by Mary Norris
I pulled on my pants and shirt at about the same time the young man did, stuffing my underwear in my hat. I nodded goodbye, fully clothed, as he left, circling behind me, and followed him out shortly after. I had been caught naked on the beach, one of the most embarrassing things that can happen to a person, short of subsequently having your clothes stolen and having to return home nude, skulking from olive tree to olive tree, as in a dream, hoping a shepherd will come by and lend you a fleece. I thought of the myths of mortals stumbling onto Artemis or Aphrodite bathing in the woods. The only nude art I resembled was a portrait by Lucian Freud. But nothing terrible had happened—my encounter left no residue of guilt or shame. Nobody cared that I sat naked on a beach in the Peloponnese. On Patrick Leigh Fermor’s beach I was allowed.
On the way back to the hotel, I kept feeling a vibration coming from the hat—which was in my hand, not on my head— and I thought it was my cell phone. But my phone was in my shoulder bag with my notebook and wallet and glasses. Before going into my room at the hotel, I set the hat upside down on a low stone wall, and as I pulled out my intimates a yellow butterfly shot into the garden.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
AS THE ROSY FINGERS of dawn touch the tops of the buildings that pass for the Acropolis in my neighborhood, I wish to express my gratitude to all earlier writers, travelers, scholars, translators, and philhellenes—behind every word of mine they stand in their legions, nearly three thousand years’ worth of language and scholarship.
Fleets of people brought this book home. Foremost among them is Matt Weiland, my editor at W. W. Norton, who surprised and delighted me by suggesting that I write about Greece and then patiently gave form to chaos, and even learned a word of Greek (ο ράφτης!).
Next comes David Kuhn, of Aevitas Creative Management, and with him Nate Muscato and Becky Sweren, who shared the excitement of creating something new out of something ancient.
Assistance arrived from all over. From Corfu came Dorothy Gregory, a teacher who gave constant encouragement and who lives on in the memory of everyone whose life she touched. Chrysanthe Filippardos, another generous teacher, welcomed me to her home in Astoria and sent me to her village in Rhodes. Kostas Christoforatos, of Kefalonia, made friendly corrections to my stumbling Greek. Peter Bien counselled me on Greek and Greeklish from his mountain home in the Adirondacks. Cynthia Cotts shared her expertise in modern Greek, along with the occasional bottle of assyrtiko.
Froma Zeitlin, of Princeton University, emerged from the past. Laura M. Slatkin and Charles Mercier came to my rescue with their abundant stores of knowledge. On the coast of Maine, Caroline Alexander did triple duty as classicist, writer, and host.
The fact checker Bobby Baird and the copy editor Elizabeth Macklin kept me from coming to grief. John McPhee offered notes on the geology of Cyprus and the Acropolis. John Bennet, Nicolas Niarchos, and Bruce Diones expressed enthusiasm at critical moments. Nick Trautwein and Dorothy Wickenden dropped names I lunged for. Gifts from Edward M. Stringham kept giving from my bookshelves. And, lest we forget, The New Yorker and Advance Publications underwrote my Greek studies for years. I hope they do not regret it.
On Rhodes, I was befriended by Eleni Skourtou and Vasilia Kazoulli, of the University of the Aegean. In Athens, Eugenia Tzirtzilaki and George Kolyvas heartened me, as did Richard Moore. Friends who have given me their companionship in Greece include Nancy Holyoke, Dwight Allen, Karl Rohr, Denise Rodino, Sam Rodino, the late Bill Gifford, Gregory Maguire, Hylary Kingham, Paula Rothstein, Cynthia Cotts (again!), and Angelika Gräwer (a.k.a. Anna of Patmos). Kevin Conley opened the way for travel in 2012 with Deborah Ziska, Cristy Meiners, James Conaway, Andreas Stamatiou, and Andreas Spyrou, a trip that led to a correspondence with Mrs. Myrto Kaouki, of the Benaki Museum, and, ultimately, the road to Kardamyli.
Inspiration came from Nashville in the form of F. Lynne Bachleda, Annie Freeman, Alan LeQuire, and Wesley Paine. Thanks to a residency with the Victoria Literary Festival on Prince Edward Island, I parleyed with Pam Price, Linda Gilbert, Emma Price, J. C. Humphreys, Mo Duffy Cobb, and Lexie and Leah Wood, who helped me reinvent the Greek alphabet. Peter Sokolowski is my man at Merriam-Webster. Andrea Roccella passed along the lore of his native Sicily; John Pope weighed in from New Orleans on Phi Beta Kappa; from Skyros and Amsterdam came books and clippings from Jaco de Groot. Back home in New York, I got a boost from Linda Angrilli, of FIT, and I found kindred spirits in Ann Patty, a late-blooming Latinist; Cindy Calder, an educator and lifelong philhellene; and Susanna Coffey, a keeper of the flame. George Gibson put me in touch with Nicholas Humez; Noreen Tomassi introduced me to Elaine Moore Hirsch; Walter Strachowsky left serendipitous books at my door; Jane Schramm sent them in the mail. And I will never forget my work with Eslee Samberg.
W. W. Norton, my publisher, has showered me with blessings. Special thanks to Julia Reidhead, Nancy Palmquist, Don Rifkin, Ingsu Liu, Anna Oler, Erin Sinesky Lovett, Dan Christiaens, Zarina Patwa, and Remy Cawley, as well as to Nick Misani for the dazzling cover.
The Tahoe Girls—Mary Grimm, Susan Grimm, Tricia Springstubb, and Kristin Olson—draw me ever upward with their perceptive readings and brilliant critiques. The Kelleys Island crew—Charles Oberndorff, Jeff Gundy, Donna Jarrell, Susan Carpenter, Laura Walter, and Jackie Cummins—give me an anchor in my natal waters of Lake Erie.
For their sustaining friendships, I thank Denise Rodino, Clancey O’Connor, Ann Goldstein, Elizabeth Pearson-Griffiths, Toby Allan Schust, Emily Nunn, Dan Kaufman, Sharon Cameron, Barrett Mandel, Alice Truax, Janet Abramowicz, Vicki Desjardins, Ladi Dell’aira, Penelope Rowlands, J. Kathleen White, Penny Lynn White, Vicky Raab, Nancy Woodruff Hamilton, and the ghost of Lindsley Cameron Miyoshi.
It was my brother Miles who appointed himself my original writing teacher and who first interpreted a word of Greek for me (“Eureka!” “You stink!”) at the Lyceum. It is my sister Dee who keeps me honest and fires me up.
APPENDIX
THE GREEK ALPHABET
Α
α
alpha
A
Β
β
beta
B
Γ
γ
gamma
G
Δ
δ
delta
D
Ε
ε
epsilon
E
Ζ
ζ
zeta
Z
Η
η
eta
E
Θ
θ
theta
Th
Ι
ι
iota
I
Κ
κ
kappa
K
Λ
λ
lambda
L
Μ
μ
mi
M
Ν
ν
ni
N
Ξ
ξ
xi
X
Ο
ο
omicron
O
Π
π
pi
P
Ρ
ρ
rho
R
Σ
σ, ς
sigma
S
Τ
τ
tau
T
ϒ
υ
upsilon
U
Φ
φ
phi
Ph, F
Χ
χ
chi
Ch
Ψ
ψ
psi
Ps
Ω
ω
omega
O
ALSO BY MARY NORRIS
Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen
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Copyright © 2019 by Mary Norris
All rights reserved
First Edition
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows:
Names: Norris, Mary 1952– author.
Title: Greek to me : adventures of the comma queen / Mary Norris.
Description: First edition. | New York : W. W. Norton & Company, 2019.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018050108 | ISBN 9781324001270 (hardcover)
Subjects: LCSH: Norris, Mary 1952– —Travel—Greece. | Periodical editors—United States—Biography. | Americans—Greece—Biography. | Greece—Description and travel. | Greek language—Social aspects.
Classification: LCC PN4874.N638 A3 2019 | DDC 306.442/81—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018050108
ISBN 9781324001287 (ebook)
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