For those who die twice

It was a fabulous October morning and I was quite happy, for once, to run errands. I went to the bookstore just to buy a notebook and a pen but wound up buying a couple of “vacation from myself” books as well. One was The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman. It’s another “coming of age” for the elderly books that have become popular in recent years.

Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron are pensioners living in Kent. Close friends, they’ve started the Thursday Murder Club so that they can solve murder mysteries together. It helps to keep them fresh while growing old.

The book is easy to read and flies by quickly. It’s not very realistic but it’s meant to entertain and to present the elderly in a context that is not boring and obsolete. But the purpose of this post is another. Outside the bookstore where I bought The Man Who Died Twice, there’s a stand with free book review newspapers. The first review I saw was The Woman Who Died Twice. I didn’t know dying twice was a thing.

The Woman Who Died Twice is by author and lyricist Manos Eleftheriou. It’s the story of Eleni Papadaki, a famous Greek stage actress who was executed in 1944. She’d been accused of collaborating with the Germans so now, post war, it was time for retribution. Eleni was taken to the woods with other presumed Nazi sympathizers and shot twice. Her body was then dumped in a communal grave.

Although based on a true story, in Eleftheriou’s book Eleni is only grazed by bullets and left for dead in the snow. Her brother, too grief stricken to think beyond his emotions, identifies another woman at the morgue as his sister. But Eleni, although she had fallen unconscious after being shot, was still alive. After she comes to, Eleni manages to make it to a nearby farmhouse. Here, while listening to the radio, she realizes that her friends now reject her. Ostracized, Eleni understands that, if she wants to continue living, she must hide for the rest of her life.

No doubt Eleftheriou felt the need to write this book trying to make sense of what had happened to Eleni and to offer the martyred actress some form of atonement.

War is lethal. And it kills more than just bodies. Even after the departure of Nazis from occupied Greece, the brutality continued. In December of 1944, the tension between various political factions was so extreme that shooting broke out in Athens. Around 250,000 Greeks from the political left, while demonstrating in Syntagma Square, were shot at by police hiding on the rooftops. Many people were massacred including a six-year-old boy.

Because this took place in December, these events are referred to collectively as the Dekemvriana (December = Δεκέμβριος).

Years later it came out that Katina Paxinou, a well-known actress, was responsible for the accusations against Eleni. Katina and Eleni were professional rivals. Katina couldn’t stand the competition, so she accused Eleni of having an affair with the Greek prime minister who was collaborating with the Germans. As a result, Eleni was kicked out of the Greek Actor’s Association and executed without a trial. But not much time after her death, Eleni’s accusers admitted that they’d made a mistake and shouldn’t have killed her. Even Greek partisans called her execution “an idiocy”. In fact, the truth was that Eleni had helped to save and not destroy many Greeks lives.

This malformed desire for vendetta is an accessory to war and happens all the time. Women, subjected to wars created by patriarchal needs, are often accused of “horizontal collaboration” and subsequently subjected to humiliating punishments such as with the tondeurs and tondues:

“At the end of WWII, over 20,000 French women were accused of having had “horizontal collaborations” with the Germans.  Even prostitutes, who sold their bodies to the Germans in the same way bistrot owners had sold their wines, were singled out and publicly humiliated by having their hair shaved off then paraded in public semi-naked often with swastikas painted on their foreheads.  This punishment was obviously misogynistic as it was restricted to women.  Furthermore, because of a war instigated by men, many French mothers of young children had husbands in German prisoner-of-war camps. Without pleasure, they slept with German soldiers simply to feed their children.”

War is proof that man is not as intelligent as he thinks he is. War creates a fiction that one side is right and the other side is wrong. Thus war implies that we do not consider others equals because we consider our side superior and the other side inferior. Furthermore, the side that feels itself superior also feels the right to impose itself on others and these “others” must be complacent or die.

And it doesn’t matter whether or not you consider yourself superior because you’re not—war turns us all into slaves.

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the clouds of war, it is humanity hanging on a cross of iron.”
― Dwight D. Eisenhower

There is no democracy in war.

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Related:  Coco Chanel and Tondeurs and tondues +

Eleni Papadaki (1903-1944) +  Για τη δολοφονία της ηθοποιού Ελένης ΠαπαδάκηEleni Papadaki’s tomb and info (1903–1944)  +  Dekemvriana: Ground Zero in the Greek Civil War +  Dekemvriana +   The TV series Astheneis kai odoiporoi (2002) is actually based on the last few years of her life(her name was changed to Theano Galati for it though).

The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman is being adapted into a movie by Steven Spielberg

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Reading Raisin

The heatwave this summer was crippling. I turned into a zombie and was afraid I’d stay that way forever. But one magnificent morning, the temperature dropped and rescued me.

Standing in our living room, I watched the front door netting dance with a breeze while my neighbor’s trumpet vine looked on. It was a glorious day and I felt like being glorious, too. So I sat on the sofa where I could see outside the door and began to read myself into shape.

Much of what I read is non-fiction but whenever I need a vacation from myself, I read fiction. However, it has to be fiction that flows. No more experimental novels for me or sagas where you must spend the first half of the book just trying to remember who all the characters are. The best books for this purpose are Agatha Christie’s but I’ve read them all and more than once. Using the internet to find something considered similar, I discovered the author M. C. Beaton, pseudonym of Marion Chesney. After working in a bookstore, Marion, a Scottish Gemini, became a journalist. While in the U.S. with her husband, she read some imitations of Georgette Heyer’s Regency romances that were so mediocre that Marion said to her husband “I could do better” to which her husband replied, “So do it.” And that’s how her career as a novelist began. Marion began with historical romances but branched off into “cozy mysteries” (a term she hated). Apparently, readers are more willing to buy crime than history.

Marion’s most successful protagonist is Agatha Raisin. Agatha is a self-made career woman. Her parents were unemployed drunks forcing Agatha to a DIY childhood. Via much determination and hard work, she created a successful career for herself as a PR. Now middle-aged, she is burned out and looking for a lifestyle makeover. She leaves London and moves to a village in the Cotswolds. And it is here that she discovers the Miss Marple in her and becomes a detective.

Agatha likes to drink gin and tonic, wear heels and much make up, say “bastards and snakes” and, because of her undomesticated hormones, likes to flirt with handsome men. She can be aggressive and exasperating but she has a great instinct that helps her find solutions.

The prose of the Raisin books is simple and direct with much dialogue. Of course, it can’t compete with Agatha Christie. But it can let your mind glide as if you’re on a magic carpet just cruising the skies making it very bibliotherapeutic.

There are many benefits to reading literature. Reading enhances empathy, improves communication skills, and expands the boundaries of our daily life. Reading helps us leave our own world and temporarily move into someone else’s. And this is important because focusing on something outside of our ourselves reminds us that, although we are part of the universe, we are not the universe itself. I call this weight shift literature. It’s literature that permits us to shift our focus from “me” to the “others”.

As with walking, dancing, and riding a bike, we must shift our weight from side to side in order to move. So that’s why whenever I feel stuck within, it’s time to grab a book so I can shift from me to thee and move again.

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Related: The Age of Decadence

Agatha Raisin books on Archive.org: Agatha Raisin and the curious curate; Agatha Raisin and the busy body; Dishing the dirt: an Agatha Raisin mystery; Something borrowed, someone dead: an Agatha Raisin mystery; Agatha Raisin and the blood of an Englishman;

Agatha Raisin audio books: AGATHA RAISIN Radio Series: Complete Serie 1 | BBC RADIO DRAMA

Agatha Raisin TV series

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The Door

The instinct to survive can make us do strange things.

As a result of the Great Depression, Hungary was economically desperate. The country began depending upon Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy for its survival. In 1940, Hungary became the fourth member to join the Axis. Four years later, Nazi troops invaded and subsequently occupied Hungary. At this time, 550,000 Hungarian Jews were sent to extermination camps.

At the end of World War II, Hungary became part of the Soviet sphere of influence thus allowing the Soviets to impose communism on the Hungarians. But not everyone wanted to be a communist. A group of students held a peaceful demonstration in Budapest asking for a change. But police responded by shooting at the crowd. This was the beginning of the Hungarian Revolution of 1956.

What is the difference between a Nazi and a Communist when they both try to occupy the home of another?

Magda Szabò was a Hungarian writer who had to learn how to feel at home in an occupied country. Her father, an academic, taught her English and Latin. Her husband, Tibor Szobotka, was a writer and a translator. To feel anchored, Magda needed words and began writing. Her career got off to a good start. But her words made the government uncomfortable. In 1949, when Magda was 32, she won a prestigious literary award. And, on the same day, the communist regime not only deprived her of her prize but also declared her an enemy of the state, dismissed her from her job, and prohibited her from publishing anything else. Magda had to wait until 1958 to be “rehabilitated”.

Why are politicians so afraid of books? To ban books is a manifestation of insecurity. And lack of respect for the ideas of others. To ban books is to ban one’s spirit. And, in the world of karma, this means banning your own spirit as well.

Subjected to one regime then another, Magda lived in a world of transitions. And these continual transitions made interrelating difficult. How do we learn to interrelate with the world around us if everything keeps changing forcing us to change, too. Magda’s books explore these interrelations. She also explores how to find your voice when you’ve been forced into silence.

In The Door, Magda explores these interrelations. The book describes the relationship between two women: a writer and a housekeeper. The story is narrated by the writer. And, as the story is autobiographical, here we will refer to the writer as Magda. The housekeeper’s name is Emerence.

A Dog Made of Plaster

Emerence was a junk collector with a passion for strange and mutilated objects. More than collect for herself, she collected to give to others. These gifts did not please Magda and pleased her husband even less. One day Emerence brought them a statue of a plaster dog with a chipped ear. When Emerence saw that the dog had been hidden, she wanted an explanation. Magda said she didn’t want it in her house because it was damaged and kitsch. 

Emergence gave these “kitsch” presents to express her affection. Magda, thinking more about her husband’s opinion and need for “intellectual” tastes, didn’t know at the time “that affection can’t always be expressed in calm, orderly, articulate ways; and that one cannot prescribe the form it should take for anyone else.”

Insulted, Emerence quit. Magda’s husband liked ancient artifacts that were also chipped. So why were those chipped objects ok and not the ones that she gave them?

With Emerence gone, Magda and her husband could once again place the objects in their home where they wanted to. But now they didn’t have Emerence to keep the household properly functioning.

You don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone. And once Emerence was no longer there, Magda understood how much she loved her. Since her mother’s death, Magda had not let anyone get close to her save Emerence. And now without Emerence there, Magda felt fragile and ready to crumble. And all because she hadn’t been able to accept a plaster dog with a chipped ear as a gift worthy of her house.

Magda and her husband, who preferred the radio, would sit together to watch TV. The couple could not communicate with one another and were shrouded by a silence provoked by the absence of Emerence.

Finally, the couple had to admit that they needed Emerence in their lives. Because by vanishing from their lives, she’d paralyzed everything around them. Emerence “was like a character in an epic poem who dissolves into thin air.”

There was only one thing to do—ask Emerence to come back. So Magda goes to Emerence’s home and when the latter opens the door she immediately asks “Have you come to apologize?” but without any anger in her voice. Magda responds by saying that she didn’t mean to hurt Emerence’s feelings and that the plaster dog could stay. They can’t manage without her so would she please come back.

First Emerence asks where the plaster dog will be put. “Wherever you like” responds Magda. Emerence agrees to go back and when she sees the plaster dog on the kitchen table, she turns to the couple then to the plaster dog then back to the couple again.  “…her face lit up with one of those unforgettable smiles she reserved for very special occasions. She picked up the little dog, dusted it carefully, and hurled it to the floor. Nobody spoke. No word or sound would have fit the moment. She stood there among the fragments, like a queen.”

Great humanity begins when we think of others and not just of ourselves.

The story opens with “I seldom dream. When I do, I wake with a start, bathed in sweat. Then I lie back, waiting for my frantic heart to slow, and reflect on the overwhelming power of night’s spell.”

Immediately we learn that the narrator seldom dreams and, when she does, it’s the same dream over and over. In her dream she tries to open a door. She finally gets the key to turn but still the door won’t open. She needs to open the door because the paramedics have come for her patient. The dream pushes her into despair. Afraid, she screams and her own screaming wakes her up.

No one had ever seen Emerence’s door standing open. But, having placed her faith in Magda, Emerence,  “someone who defended her solitude and impotent misery so fiercely that she would have kept that door shut though a flaming roof crackled over her head”, opened the door anyway only to regret it later.

How many doors have been opened for us that we’ve just slammed shut before even attempting to cross the Welcome mat?

Magda Szabò (1917-2007) died in her favorite armchair with an open book on her lap. She was 90 years old.

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Moonstruck

The loud music was keeping us awake. Finally, around 2 a.m., we decided to go out and search for the culprit. That’s why we were out on the streets with a flashlight. But there was no need as the moon was extraordinarily bright. It was also a bit lopsided. As an experienced moon gazer, I could detect a slice of peach colored light coming from behind one side of the moon. It was Saturn. The two celestial bodies, sharing the same longitude in the sky, were in conjunction. The moon, although in front of Saturn, is smaller and unable to completely hide Saturn’s presence. And that’s what created the distortion.

The moon’s gravitational force is modified by Saturn’s presence. And, as Hurricane Idalia is on its way, there’s the fear that this conjunction can dramatically rise the tides.

This past week I have been feeling a bit strange and waking up earlier than usual without understanding why. But seeing how Saturn was cheating the moon out of its perfect roundness, I began remembering what’s said about Saturn and its modifying capacities.

In astrology, Saturn has a reputation of being a bit domineering. In space it helps steer dangerous asteroids from Earth. But for those of us still on the ground, Saturn can cause much turbulence. In medical astronomy, Saturn rules the bones so that explains why my knees have been hurting all week especially considering that, as a Capricorn, I am governed by Saturn.

Since Saturn makes you weird, it is the planet most associated with creative people. So much so that art historians, Margot and Rudolf Wittkower, wanted to see if it were true. In Born Under Saturn, they explored the idea that artistic inspiration is a form of madness directly expressed in the artists’ unhappy and eccentric lives. The couple concluded that if an artist was wacko, it wasn’t Saturn’s fault.

Many of the stereotypes related to artists and creativity were instigated by men. Plato differentiated between clinical insanity and creative insanity. Renaissance philosopher Marsilio Ficino believed that the artist, thanks to his senses, was enraptured by divine frenzy. Whereas Proust believed that everything great in the world came from neurotics.

Lunar markings on prehistoric bone fragments indicate that women were tracking their menstrual cycles in correlation with the phases of the moon (both moon and menstrual cycles are c. 29.5 days.). The most famous such calendar is the Ishango Bone. The etchings on the bone indicate a knowledge of simple mathematics leading Claudia Zaslavsky, mathematician and civil rights activist, to believe that women were the first mathematicians.

The Moon and the Earth exert a gravitational pull one on the other. This pull affects ocean tides so when the moon is full, the tides are higher. Just as the moon affects ocean tides, it also affects the tide of our menstrual cycle. Maybe that’s why, once upon a time, women better understood that there exists a relationship between ourselves and the universe. It was this symbiosis with mother nature that elevated women to the role of goddesses. Unfortunately, that changed with patriarchal dominance.

Considering the negative effect this patriarchal dominance has had on nature, Ladies, don’t you think it’s time we go back to being goddesses once again?

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Bibliography:

Wittkower, Margot and Wittkower, Rudolf. Born Under Saturn. Random House. New York. 1963. (You can find it on archive.org HERE)

Related: See Saturn snuggle up to the Super Blue Moon in the night sky tonight + Michelangelo’s uncelebrated birthday and uncertain death + Leonardo and Michelangelo: the astrological significance  +  Metaformic Theory + Ishango bone + Claudia Zaslavsky + Were Women The First Mathematicians In Ancient Africa? Video + Lebombo bone, calendar stick with 29 notches +

Supermoon could team up with Hurricane Idalia to raise tides higher just as the storm makes landfall + How the Lunar Cycle Affects Women +

Posted in Ecofeminism, Paros, storytelling | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Hotel du Lac

I’m halfway finished reading Hotel du Lac by Anita Brookner. Yesterday I watched the film based on the book. The story is somewhat sad and unresolved. Now I’m not sure that I want to finish the book.

Hotel du Lac is the story of Edith Hope (that last name tells it all) who is having an affair with a married man, David. One day Edith shows up at a party and finds David there with his wife. Edith watches the couple who seem to be very affectionate. They’re talking about their vacation plans. Crushed, Edith decides to accept the marriage proposal of a decent but boring man. However, on the way to her wedding, she freaks out. As she’s about to pass in front of the church where everyone is waiting for her, she realizes she can’t marry the decent but boring guy so she tells the cab driver not to stop and to keep on driving. Her wanna be husband sees her drive by and is humiliated.  Her friends, scandalized by Edith’s behavior, insist that she leave town for a while. Edith, not feeling that she has much of a choice, leaves for Switzerland to stay at a fading hotel on Lake Geneva. It is off-season and the few guests there seem to be just as displaced as Edith is.

The format that Brookner generally uses in her novels is that of having the protagonist, a lonely spinster, look for a place to safely anchor. But is marriage a solution? Many of the hotel guests at Hotel du Lac are married or have been married. But the kind of relationships they’ve had with their mates makes me think of an Italian expression “meglio soli che mal accompagnati”—better alone than badly accompanied. Mrs. Pursley, now widowed, is suffocating her daughter’s independence just to keep from being alone. Mme de Bonneuil, also widowed, has been evicted from her home by her son and daughter-in-law because they can’t be bothered with an elderly woman. Monica is very beautiful but hasn’t produced an heir. Her husband tells her to become fertile or prepare to be dumped. Mr. Neville is charming and rich but that didn’t keep his wife from running off with a much younger man.

A basic insecurity shared by Anita’s protagonists is that a woman can’t be happy on her own. But marriage doesn’t necessarily protect you from solitude. A relationship is no promise of a happy life.

It wasn’t until she was 53 that she began writing novels. Anita’s prose is clean-cut and crisp. She also has the capacity to observe people with forensic accuracy. Afterall, she was an art historian and wrote about art. And to write about art, you must be good at describing.

In her novels, Anita often makes references to art. In Hotel du Lac, David is seen in his auction room selling a painting attributed to Francesco Furini, “Time Revealing Truth.” When I saw Furini’s name, I flashed back to the first time I saw one of his paintings. It was “Santa Lucia” at the Galleria Spada in Rome. The painting shows a woman with her back turned from the viewer. She is holding up a pair of eyes.

“Santa Lucia” by Francesco Furini

Lucia of Syracuse died during the Diocletianic persecution. And it was basically the fault of her beauty and of her family’s wealth. After the death of her father, Lucia’s mom, Eutychia, wanted to make sure that her daughter would be taken care of in the future so she arranged a marriage between Lucia and a young man from a wealthy pagan family. But unknown to her, Lucia had already consecrated her virginity to God and had no intentions of marrying.

When Eutychia suffered from a bleeding disorder, Lucia took her to Catania to pray at the shrine of St. Agatha. Once her mom was cured, Licia convinced her to convert and distribute their wealth among the poor. But Lucia’s suitor was afraid that all his fiancée’s patrimony would be given away with nothing left for him. So he squealed to the governor that Lucia was a Christian. The governor ordered Lucia to make an offering to the governor and, when she refused, he sentenced her to be defiled at a brothel. The guards came to take Lucia away but they were unable to move her. They even tried to set her on fire but she wouldn’t burn. Finally, they thrusted a sword into her throat and Lucia died.

Lucia is known as the saint without the eyes. It’s not known if she poked them out herself so her suitor wouldn’t want her anymore or because, before her death, she was tortured by eye gouging. But when Lucia’s body was taken to the family tomb, it was discovered that her eyes had been miraculously restored. And for this she is now considered the patron saint of the blind.

Lucia’s relics were scattered around—Venice, Sicily, Rome, etc. In 1981, thieves stole her bones from San Geremia in Venice but the relics were recovered in time for her feast day, December 13.

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Hotel du Lac, the book on Archive.org

Hotel du Lac, the film on YouTube

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