BR#12 – The Fratricides

The is something about literature that allows us to understand in a way our eyes cannot always. Perhaps it simply allows us to first see what is possible to understand, doing the hard work for the eyes and mind to follow. When in foreign lands I enjoy reading books by native authors or sometimes those by foreigners set in such places. The foreigners can frustrate as they show they have learnt another version of a place to you but this can be important to realise there are more versions than your own. Natives of the land you are in though will always understand their own people in a way you simply cannot. You only have a formative childhood once, an adult visitor will never be able to truly replicate such a learning experience and understand a people as their own. As I am in Greece then I shall read something Greek. While it is easy to fall for the classics, two thousand years later the Greeks are a very different people and with that comes a necessity to understand now and not then.

Nikos Kazantzakis is probably most famous for Zorba The Greek and The Last Temptation Of Christ, at least with non-Greek readers and likely because films were made of the two in English. The Fratricides deals with the Greek Civil War which took place almost directly after the Second World War between the Communists and the Fascists – the Redhoods and the Blackhoods. It follows the fighting over a small miserable village in the mountains of Epirus and revolves around the local Priest Father Yanaros stuck in the middle. He chooses to be neither red nor black and instead laments the killing of all. In his eyes we are all brothers. It is an indictment of both sides as they destroy Greece in the name of Greece and for Greece, as well as an indictment of the Greek Orthodox Church for the role they played and their heartless corruption.

Nobody is a winner in a war which is being fought for an illusion, fought for someone else’s power. It is ultimately an intense and sad story in which unsurprisingly everyone loses and everyone, including Father Yanaros, is broken and fallible in someway or another. He may be incorruptible but he too makes mistakes. Kazantzakis exposes the grim realities of war and especially civil war, the utterly pointless and divisive nature of such beasts. He deals with the real social and religious problems of the time with a deep understanding of both. Importantly while this may be set seventy years ago, if such issues are resolved through violence and hate, he makes it clear they are never resolved. Something modern generations could learn from and continue not to. It may not be from ancient times but like those it continues in what feels like another chapter in the archetype Greek story, that of the never-ending tragedy of life.

A Three Point Piece

I suspect I’m going to attempt to talk about too many things in this piece, three to be precise, but I’ll try anyway. I should probably stop wasting words telling you this though. To start with I feel it necessary to be critical of yesterdays piece. My issue is that there seems to be a certain immaturity to how I write about politics, and most likely when I talk about it too. This is evidenced I feel by an excessive amount of rhetoric and the danger with this is that not only is it, in my eyes at least, a sign of immaturity but is also a sign of a bad argument, a lack of understand an argument suitably in depth and also perhaps a sign of being a bit of an idiot. I hope I’m not an idiot but I know theres a good chance I would accuse others of such things were they to write in such a manner. Ultimately I’m not happy with it. I could have written it better, made better points and made them in a more evolved way. The problem with not publishing these yet is that I am unable to get your (constructive) feedback, but if anyone ever reads back on these I would love to know what you have to think.

The second thing and third actually were inspired by my avoiding writing this and procrastinating on facebook. Greece is burning again and having lived there for three years, give or take, on and off, I feel a connection to it and a sadness at the continuing trauma that is the Greek tragedy. I may have lived in Exarchia, the anarchist run neighbourhood in the centre of Athens, but it truth I never really integrated and always lived fairly anonymously within it. The new right-wing government has seemingly followed through on it’s threats and has spent the last six months closing down squats. Tonight is the eleventh anniversary of the murder of a 15 year old boy by a police officer, who was coincidentally let out of prison a couple of months back, so expect the streets to be a war zone once more. I love Greece but it’s run by dangerous morons, who are elected by scared morons. Nations seem to repeat events and behaviours throughout their history, Greeks have spent the last hundred years killing and suppressing each other. I said Greek tragedy, but perhaps it’s more of a black comedy. Just not for any of those involved.

And finally, a meme I quite like and thought worth mentioning. Quote ‘The deer isn’t crossing the road, the road is crossing the forest’. It is all about perspective and until we change our perspectives on how we view each other, the world around us and the natural world we are a part of we are going to continue missing the point. Missing the point of our own existence and dragging down the remnants of the harmony that we not only stopped seeing but refuse to see and seemingly have lost the ability to even comprehend anymore or ever again.

That is all.