Report to Grego (2 page)

Charon came—curse him!—and mowed Nikos down in the first flower of his youth! Yes, dear reader, do not laugh. For this was the time for all to flower and bear fruit, all he had begun, the man you so loved and who so loved you, your Nikos Kazantzakis.

—H.N.K.

Geneva, June 15,1961.

T
HE READER
will soon discover that I have retained many Greek terms in this translation. I have done this whenever there is no real English equivalent, especially in cases of food and clothing. Sometimes, even when a reasonable equivalent exists, I retain the Greek original out of respect for the increasing number of English-speaking people who know a little of modern Greek life at first hand. These modern philhellenes would wince if they encountered hors d'oeuvres, for instance, as a rendering of mezédhes. For their sake, I ask other readers to endure temporary mystification with forbearance.

All the modern Greek terms, as well as certain historical allusions, are explained below. They are listed alphabetically for easy reference. In one or two places I have also added explanatory material to the text, but always in square brackets. My transliterations are deliberately inconsistent. Most often I try to approximate the present-day pronunciation, but in certain cases I give precedence to etymology. As a possible aid to pronunciation I include accents where I think they will be of use. These indicate stress only; they do not change the vowel. Pronounce a as in father, e as in bed, i as in machine.

acrite
. During the Byzantine era the acrites guarded the frontiers against inroads by the barbarians. They became symbols of heroism and devotion to country, and their deeds, often magnified to supernatural proportions, were immortalized in epic and song.

amané, pl. amanédhes
. Passionate songs, usually about love, so called because the expression
amán
(“alas”) occurs frequently.

antídoro
. Bits of consecrated bread distributed to the entire congregation at the end of the service in Orthodox churches. This is instead of communion, literally “instead of the [Lord's] gift.”

Boule
. The Greek legislature, a term used in both ancient and modern times. The modern pronunciation is Voulí.

briki.
The special pot used for making Turkish coffee.

Christos anéstakas
. This requires some explanation. Greek is rich in expressive suffixes. Adding
áki
to the word
pódhi
, for example, we
get
podháki,
or “small foot,” Similarly, we can add a suffix to indicate a large foot:
podhára.
Then, if we have a friend with large feet, we can call him a podharás. If our friend is a big drunkard, he will be known as a merhýstakas. On analogy to this last example, the priest in
Chapter 28
who says
Christos
anéstakas instead of
Christos anesti
(Christ is risen) is simply trying to say that Christ is so tremendous that He did not simply “rise,” He rose in a tremendous way, suitable to His giant stature. He breaks all grammatical rules because he adds the suffix to a verb instead of to a noun.

epitáphios.
This is the canopy-like structure, made of flowers, which represents Christ lying in the tomb. It is placed in the church on Good Friday.

foufoúla, pl. foufoúles.
The loose, hanging part of the Cretan vraka (q.v.).

Friendly Society.
A secret society founded in Odessa in 1816 with the purpose of organizing the Greek War of Independence.

“Hold fast, poor Missolonghi.”
A well-known phrase referring to the heroic resistance of Missolonghi while under siege during the Greek War of Independence (1821 ff.).

kalýmmafko
. A covering of black material placed over the hat of Orthodox monks and falling down the back as far as the waist. Sometimes it is gathered into a pyramid over the head. It is similar in purpose to the wimple: it prevents the monk from seeing “the world.”

Karaïskakis, Georgios
. Important general in the Greek War of Independence. Killed in action, 1827.

katharévousa
. The official language of Greece. It is an artificial language constructed by nationalists in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries as a compromise between ancient Greek and the so-called “demotic,” the spoken language which evolved naturally during the Hellenistic and Byzantine periods, and the 400 years of Turkish rule. The linguistic nationalists attempted to “purify” demotic of foreign words and to return as far as possible to the vocabulary, syntax, and grammar of the ancient Attic dialect. Though katharévousa is employed today for all official documents, scholarly books, university lectures, etc., demotic survives with undiminished vitality. Since katharévousa has to be learned at the gymnasium, it can be used in an affected way as a sign that one is educated, i.e., superior. This is the basis of the Tityros anecdote in
Chapter 5
.

Kifissiá.
A suburb of Athens, now very fashionable.

koulouri, pl. koulouria
. Doughnut-shaped rolls sprinkled with sesame seeds. They are sold in the street by men or boys and are a Greek institution.

kourabiédhes
. These are little cookie-like sweets made of flour, sugar, eggs, and mastic. They are baked and then covered with powdered sugar.

kulah
. The high round felt hat of the dervishes.

mantinádha, pl. mantinádhes
. From Italian mattinata. Originally a lover's serenade sung beneath a girl's window. In Crete the mantinadha always takes the form of a rhymed couplet. It is often improvised and is no longer restricted in subject matter.

Megalo Kastro
. This is Iraklion, Kazantzakis' birthplace and the chief city of Crete. Megalo Kastro means “great fortress.” Iraklion is famous for its walls, built over the period 1462–1570 by the Venetian conquerers.

mezé, pl. mezédhes.
Food eaten with wine or raki to prevent intoxication. Usually appetizers such as sardines, olives, cheese, stuffed vine leaves, fish roe, etc.

myzíthra
. A soft white cheese somewhat like cottage cheese. “Over
the
years,
in
time,
she'll be ours once more.
” Slogan during the Greek War of Independence, attributed to the archbishop Germanós (Palaion Patron Germanos).

pallikári
. A true man, i.e., brave and strong, able to resist pain, etc. The term was originally applied to the foot soldiers accompanying mounted knights, later to any soldier, now to any young man who has soldier-like qualities. In Greece today it is an unqualified term of praise.

papadhiá
. Wife of a priest.

Paramythía, Ktetórissa, Bematárissa, Antiphonétria, Esphagméne, Elaiobrótida.
Each of these celebrated icons has a legend associated with it. The Esphagméne (“slaughtered one”), for example, is represented with blood flowing from her cheek. The story goes that a certain deacon was so zealous in his desire to tidy the church that he missed his dinner. When he went after hours to the refectory, he was refused even a slice of bread, whereupon he returned to the church and knifed the Virgin in his rage. Blood flowed and the deacon was immediately struck blind, but the Virgin eventually forgave him and restored his sight. The transgressing hand, however, was condemned to be sent to hell at the Second Coming. When the deacon's bones were disinterred, this hand was discovered still intact. A certain pilgrim, assuming that the hand's preservation indicated its holiness, bit off a piece in order to profit therefrom, and straightway fell down dead. The other icons are equally wonderworking.

passatempo.
Salted, lightly roasted pumpkin seeds, munched for the purpose indicated in the name.

Prodromos
. Theodore Prodromos, called “Prodromos the Poor,” was a Byzantine poet (died 1160). The Comneni patronized him for a time, but then their support was withdrawn, and Prodromos died as a monk in great poverty.

Psiloríti.
Mountain not far from Iraklion. The ancient Mount Ida.

Stournaras, Nikólaos
. Military leader in the Greek War of Independence. He fell at Missolonghi in 1826.

vrakes
. Jodhpur-like trousers worn until recently by Cretan men. They are extremely baggy above the knees, being made from an immense amount of material which hangs down loosely.

Zálongon
. A cliff in Epirus, famous in Greek history. It was here, on Dec. 18, 1803, that 57 Greek women chose death rather than capture by the Turks. After hurling their babies over the cliff, they formed a circle and danced until each had leaped to her doom.

This translation is in many ways a collaboration, and I wish to record here my indebtedness and sincere thanks to my many fellow workers. Above all to my wife, who with her accustomed patience and good humor answered my endless queries. I am also indebted to Helen Kazantzakis, the author's widow; Nikos Saklambanis of Iraklion, the author's nephew; Pandelis Prevelakis, who carefully checked my rendering of the Terzina in the Epilogue; Emmanuel Kasdaglis, who with infinite care and dedication prepared Kazantzakis' original manuscript for publication; Stephen Mavroyiannis, icon painter; Boule Prousali; Lola Sphairopoulou, and various waiters, fishermen and vineyard- keepers of the village of Aghia Triadha. Lastly, I would like to record my thanks here to Professor Kakridís, Kimon Friar, George Sabbides, Mrs. Chatzidakis of the Benaki Museum, Theodora Koumvakali, Alexander Segkopoulos, Evro Lay ton, Dr. and Mrs. Atlas, the Yian- nakoses, Katherine Kakouri, Michael Antonakis, and Jeff Amory, all of whom in one way or another made my stay in Greece more enjoyable than it otherwise would have been.—P.A.B.

August 28, 1964

Aghia Triadha, Macedonia

M
Y
Report to Greco
is not an autobiography. My personal life has some value, extremely relative, for myself and no one else. The sole value I acknowledge in it was its effort to mount from one step to the next and reach the highest point to which its strength and doggedness could bring it: the summit I arbitrarily named the Cretan Glance.

Therefore, reader, in these pages you will find the red track made by drops of my blood, the track which marks my journey among men, passions, and ideas. Every man worthy of being called a son of man bears his cross and mounts his Golgotha. Many, indeed most, reach the first or second step, collapse pantingly in the middle of the journey, and do not attain the summit of Golgotha, in other words the summit of their duty: to be crucified, resurrected, and to save their souls. Afraid of crucifixion, they grow fainthearted; they do not know that the cross is the only path to resurrection. There is no other path.

The decisive steps in my ascent were four, and each bears a sacred name: Christ, Buddha, Lenin, Odysseus. This bloody journey from each of these great souls to the next is what I shall struggle to mark out in this Itinerary, now that the sun has begun to set—the journey of a man with his heart in his mouth, ascending the rough, unaccommodating mountain of his destiny. My entire soul is a cry, and all my work the commentary on that cry.

During my entire life one word always tormented and scourged me, the word
ascent.
Here, mixing truth with fancy, I should like to represent this ascent, together with the red footprints I left as I mounted. I am anxious to finish quickly, before I don the “black helmet” and return to dust, because this bloody track will be the only trace left by my passage on earth. Whatever I wrote or did was written or performed upon water, and has perished.

I call upon my memory to remember, I assemble my life from the air, place myself soldier-like before the general, and make my Report to Greco. For Greco is kneaded from the same Cretan soil as I, and is able to understand me better than all the strivers of past or present. Did he not leave the same red track upon the stones?

THREE KINDS OF SOULS, THREE PRAYERS:

1] I AM A BOW IN YOUR HANDS, LORD. DRAW ME, LEST I ROT.

2] DO NOT OVERDRAW ME, LORD. I SHALL BREAK.

3] OVERDRAW ME, LORD, AND WHO CARES IF I BREAK!

I
COLLECT MY TOOLS:
sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing, intellect. Night has fallen, the day's work is done. I return like a mole to my home, the ground. Not because I am tired and cannot work. I am not tired. But the sun has set.

The sun has set, the hills are dim. The mountain ranges of my mind still retain a little light at their summits, but the sacred night is bearing down; it is rising from the earth, descending from the heavens. The light has vowed not to surrender, but it knows there is no salvation. It will not surrender, but it will expire.

I cast a final glance around me. To whom should I say farewell? To what should I say farewell? Mountains, the sea, the grape-laden trellis over my balcony? Virtue, sin? Refreshing water? . . . Futile, futile! All these will descend with me to the grave.

To whom should I confide my joys and sorrows—youth's quixotic, mystic yearnings, the harsh clash later with God and men, and finally the savage pride of old age, which burns but refuses until the death to turn to ashes? To whom should I relate how many times I slipped and fell as I clambered on all fours up God's rough, unaccommodating ascent, how many times I rose, covered with blood, and began once more to ascend? Where can I find an unyielding soul of myriad wounds like my own, a soul to hear my confession?

Compassionately, tranquilly, I squeeze a clod of Cretan soil in my palm. I have kept this soil with me always, during all my wanderings, pressing it in my palm at times of great anguish and receiving strength, great strength, as though from pressing the hand of a dearly loved friend. But now that the sun has set and the day's work is done, what can I do with strength? I need it no longer. I hold this Cretan soil and squeeze it with ineffable joy, tenderness, and gratitude, as though in my hand I were squeezing
the breast of a woman I loved and bidding it farewell. This soil I was everlastingly; this soil I shall be everlastingly. O fierce clay of Crete, the moment when you were twirled and fashioned into a man of struggle has slipped by as though in a single flash.