And then again, between the sleeping figures, I saw the dying child, no less a symbol—but of what? Our world perhaps. For it is always the child in man which is forced to live through these repeated tragedies of the European conscience. The child is the forfeit we pay for the whole sum of our worldly errors. Only through him shall we ever salvage these lost cultures of passion and belief.
Then my thoughts turn to complete the greater arc of this small green island, touching my sleeping friends—the sightless stone woman in her cubicle, Gideon and Hoyle snoring somewhere among the mulberry trees of Trianda, Huber tacking for a late landfall at Mandraccio after a night’s fishing, E in her calm bed at the hotel feeling the first faint breath of the dawn wind from Asia Minor as it stirs the balcony curtains, the Baron Baedeker and Christ snoring under the pines at Soroni … all playing an unconscious part in my own inner life, and now, by this writing, made a part of it forever.
The light is growing fast and it has turned much colder; the strip of sky behind the pines has been drained of the violet moonlight and is slowly filling with the new color of approaching sunrise. I am suddenly beginning to feel sleepy here, alone with my thoughts. When Chloe comes to find us with whatever news the new world of sunlight has to offer she will find me dozing between the two silent figures.
* Stuck with sesame seed.
* Not for Gideon alas! He was accidentally killed in crossing an unmarked minefield on Nisyros, and left a gap in our lives which could never be filled.
Epilogue
THE SPORADES ARE lean wolves and hunt in packs; waterless, eroded by the sun. They branch off on every side as you coast along the shores of Anatolia. Then towards afternoon the shaggy green of Cos comes up; and then, slithering out of the wintry blue the moist green flanks of Rhodes.
It is good to see places where one has been happy in the past—to see them after many years and in different circumstances. The child is asleep in its rugs: that long, much-loved, much-traveled coastline breasts its way up against the liner’s deck until the town fans out—each minaret like the loved worn face of an earthly friend. I am looking, as if into a well, to recapture the faces of Hoyle, Gideon, Mills—and the dark vehement grace of E.
Ahead of us the night gathers, a different night, and Rhodes begins to fall into the unresponding sea from which only memory can rescue it. The clouds hang high over Anatolia. Other islands? Other futures?
Not, I think, after one has lived with the Marine Venus. The wound she gives one must carry to the world’s end.
Acknowledgements
I should like to express my thanks to the FERT Institute of Rhodes where, through the kindness of Professor G. Morriconi, I was able to study the history of the island, and make use of the invaluable library. I am also grateful to my friend Dr. Raymond Mills for permission to quote from an interesting paper on peasant remedies which he wrote during our stay on Rhodes and to Mrs. Anne Ridler for her help in editing an overgrown manuscript.
Appendices
A Short Calendar of
Flowers and Saints
for Rhodes*
January
IN SOME PARTS of Greece January is called “The Primer” because now the husbandman trims vines and trees. An omen is drawn from the observation of the weather at Epiphany. The following saw illustrates this:
Dry Epiphany and pouring Easter weather
Bring us happiness and plenty both together.
The woods are starred with early anemones of a delicate purple (mostly Anemone coronaria L.). Visit the lush meadows around Casa del Pini.
January 7th is the feast of St. John the Baptist and there is mumming in the streets by children in masks.
Glorious pink and white flowers of the wild almond in puffs everywhere. Flowering often begins as early as mid-December (Amygdalus communis L). Loveliest in the hill districts.
The shy winter crocus with its lavender-colored flowers appears (Crocus Sieberi Gay).
The Japanese medlar is in bloom. Its scent is strongest just after sunset. Wisteria blooms.
The weather in this month is often fine, dry and cold (the Halcyon days).
February
On the second falls the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin (our Candlemas), and the prevailing weather on this day is popularly supposed to last 40 days.
Anemones still at their best.
The large purple periwinkle (Vinca Major L.) begins to flower.
Purple-blue irises (Iris cretensis Janka) appear.
The deliciously scented narcissus (Narcissus Tazetta L.) appears, esp. in swampy places.
Wisteria still in bloom.
March
The first cuckoo and the early spring winds. (Charcoal burners dread the cuckoos note as foretelling dry weather.) Now the first cicadas begin to welcome the sunlight, and swallows start building under the house eaves. (Destroy their nests and you’ll get freckles, says popular legend.) On the Ist of the month the boys fashion a wooden swallow, adorn it with flowers and travel from house to house collecting pennies and singing a little song which varies from place to place in Greece. This custom is of the remotest antiquity.
For the first three days of March peasants think it unlucky to wash or plant vegetables. Trees planted now will wither. The March sun burns the skin; and a red and white thread on the wrist will prevent your children from getting sunburn.
Some of the orchids begin to flower, incl. the purple lax-flowered orchid (Orchis laxiflora Lam.) which grows in swampy places; and various species of pyramid, bee and fly orchids.
Other blue irises (Iris attica and Iris florentina) appear.
The bright yellow bog iris (Iris Pseudacorus L.) brightens the dykes and other swampy places with its quarantine-like flags.
Narcissi still found; anemones dying off. Periwinkle still seen. Orange and lemon trees in full bloom.
The arborescent heath (Erica arborea L.) shows its masses of white flowers. It is from the roots of this plant that “briar” (from the French bruyère) pipes are made.
Easter
Easter has been grafted on to what was probably the Lesser Eleusinia in ancient times—the return of Persephone. It is the period of red eggs and roasted lamb on the spit today and is ushered in by the great 40 days fast of Lent. The two Sundays before Lent are known respectively as Meat Sunday and Cheese Sunday. The week between them answers to our western carnival week and is so celebrated in the cities of Greece with masquerades, black dominoes etc. Scholars hint at pre-Christian survivals saying that these antics suggest the Old Cronia festivals of ancient times while Lent itself suggests a connection with the Eleusinean mysteries—commemorating Demeter’s long abstinence from food during her search for her lost daughter.
March 25th, Lady Day comes when peasants hang red-colored sashes and handkerchiefs from their balconies. Eggs are dyed red, and with the first egg the mother makes the sign of the cross on the face and neck of her child, saying “May you be as rosy as this egg and as strong as a stone.” The egg is then placed near the family ikon of the Virgin until next year.
On Good Friday do not touch vinegar. It is unlucky because on this day the Jews moistened Christ’s lips with it.
On Holy Saturday do not wash your hair or you’ll turn grey before your time.
The midnight Mass of Easter Sunday is the high post of the year’s festivals and no traveler should miss the impressive ceremony. In villages the gospel is read out in the churchyard under a tree. At the end the news that “Christ is risen” is announced to the banging of gongs and the explosion of crackers; in the dark church the priest holds up his consecrated candle and calls out to the congregation “Come and receive the light”; they light each one a taper from his can dle and pass the light back into the dark body of the church to the rest of the congregation. If you are lucky enough to get your candle home without it going out you’ll have good luck the coming year.
April
In the uplands sheep are shorn and the air is full of the plaintive crying
of lambs unable to recognize their shorn dams; about the 23rd of the month (St. George’s Day, the patron saint of Brigands and Englishmen) the shepherds return to the mountains with their flocks.
Orchids at their best. Irises still going strong. Narcissi ending.
The spring Asphodel (Asphodelus microcarpus Viv.) shows its branched spikes of white flowers in the olive woods.
Snake-wort (Dracunculus vulgaris Schott) shows its huge green, brown and purple blos soms (rather like an outsize arum lily, rare) and can often be located from a distance by its carrion-like smell.
The prickly-pear (Opuntia Ficus-indica) begins to show its pretty yellow flowers.
The yellow wallflower (Cheiranthus cheiri L.) now in flower.
Various species of cistus begin to show their pink, white and yellow flowers.
The Judas-tree (Cercis siliquastrum L.) some times begins to bloom towards the end of the month.
Gorse (Calycotome villosa) and broom (Spartium junceum L.) explode into bright yellow on the hillsides.
The golden marigold (Crysanthemum coronarium L.) decks the fields.
May
Parties are formed to go picnicking and “fetch back the May”; the young men of the village make wreaths of flowers and hang them at their sweethearts’ doors; but May is unlucky for marriages because, says the proverb, “In May the donkeys mate.”
Cistus, wallflower, periwinkle, prickly-pear, dracunculus, still in flower.
Judas-trees at their best, in great splashes of magenta all over the countryside. Gorse and broom in full wing. Bog iris still going strong.
Orchids finishing.
The climbing clematis (Clematis flammula L.) shows its white flowers. The peasants call it the swallow flower—chelidonia—probably because it appears when the swallows return.
The wild thyme (Tbymbra capitata Griseb.) begins to flower, to the delight of the bees which produce the Hymettus honey.
White acacia trees in full flower (Robinia Pseudacacia L.).
June
In some places called “The Harvester” because the harvest begins normally in this month. On the 24th June falls the Nativity of St. John the Baptist which is celebrated by a great feast with crackling bonfires.
Nigella (love-in-a-mist, alias devil-in-a-bush) shows its delicate pale blue flowers.
The seeds of the ailantus tree (Ailantus glandulosa Desf.) show great masses of orange and crimson.
The squirting cucumber (Ecballium elaterium) shows its pale yellow flowers. Within the month it is ready for action, and then mind your eye. Active until September.
Thyme in full swing; also mint and sage. Swamp iris, prickly-pear, still in flower.
The spineless caper (Capparis inermis) shows its large white flowers with their long purple stamens. In rocks by the seashore.
The leaves of the eryngium turn a metallic blue.
The bright vermilion flowers of the pomegran ate are seen; flowers also in July.
The chaste-tree (Vitex agnus-castus L.) shows its purple flowers, esp., along the coasts. The Ancient Greeks believed that the scent of its leaves and flowers was an “anti-aphrodisiac,” hence the name.
July
In some places called “The Thresher” presumably because the corn is threshed in this month. In Macedonia, farmers make a thin wafer-like cake from newly ground corn which they crumple into wells and distribute it among the passersby; this is called grasshopper cake—an offering to the favorite insect of the farmer. The cicada is the insect of this month, and his orchestra fills the long afternoons with deep humming. Often at this time a distant cousin, the locust, moves in for a week or two in the flat land about Malona and causes alarm; so far however his depredations have been successfully checked. He is blown over the sea from Africa, it is surmised. On the 30th July there is a huge open-air festival at Soroni to celebrate the arrival of St. Saul who was a fellow passenger of St. Paul during his shipwreck at Lindos. (A case of transferred names and attributes—as with ancient Gods and Goddesses, one wonders?)
The violet delphinium (Delphinium junceum DC.) in flower. Also in August.
The golden thistle (Scolymus hispanicus L.) shows its yellow flowers in all uncultivated places.
The mullein (Verbascum undulatum Lam.) shows its yellow flowers.
Some species are used by the peasants to make fish poisons. The oleander is seen in masses of pink (occasionally white).
Prickly-pear still in flower.
The agave (aloe) rockets upwards after a flying start in May and shows its spike of yellow-green flowers. Also in September.
August
The jackdaw is the bird of the month, and August begins with the Progress of the Precious and Unifying Cross. This feast prepares one for another fast which is prelude to the Feast of the Repose of the Virgin. On the 23rd the Feast of the Holy Merciful is celebrated; again on the 29th a feast for the Cutting Off of the Precious Head of St. John the Precursor heralds more abstinence.
In general however August is the great dancing month, and panagyreias are held at Maritsa on the 6th, while the big feast of the Virgin held on the 15th and 23rd at Trianda and Kremasto is the biggest event of the year, attracting islanders from Symi, Cos, Casos et alia, and highlanders from the brilliant hill villages like Siana whose costumes and dancing reminds one of the fastnesses of Crete.
The beautiful sand lily (Pancratium maritimum L.) shows its white flowers in the coastal sands.
The caper still in flower (until September).
September
On the 14th there is a festival dedicated to the Cross at Callithies. Childless women make the weary pilgrimage to the top of the razorback hill called Tsam-bika below San Benedetto—and here, in the chapel of Our Lady, they eat a small piece of the wick from one of the lamps which will make them fruitful. If the resulting infant is not named after the Virgin it dies.
The autumn asphodel (Scilla autumnalis L.) shows its unbranched spike of white flowers in all the olive woods. The peasants make a rat poison from its huge bulb.
The grapes are gathered (beginning).
October
A golden month which belongs to St. Demetrius; at his feast on the 26th wine casks are unstopped and the new wine tasted. Many weddings take place in this month, and an eagerly anticipated spell of fine weather which comes around the middle month is known as the Little Summer of St. Demetrius.
Grape gathering in full swing.
The crocus-like Sternbergia sicula Tin. shows its bright yellow blossoms after the first autumn rains.
The autumn mandrake (Mandragora autumnalis) shows its purple flowers at about the same time (rare).
The cyclamen have just started their lilac flood.
November
In many places still called “The Sower” because seed time is beginning; St. Andrew is the most popular saint of this month and his feast falls on the last day of the month. He is the bringer of the first snow (popular saying: “St. Andrew has washed his beard white”). The feast of the Virgin on the 21st is sometimes not celebrated in Rhodes. On the 18th also St. Plato the Martyr (whom popular ignorance has transformed into St. the names being very similar). The weather which prevails on the 18th will last through Advent (The Forty Days). Now the Pleiades begin to rise, and the first sea gales drive the longshore fisherman to his winter quarters. The melancholy of the dying year is hardly cast off by St. Andrew’s holiday on which everyone eats “loucumades”—a sort of doughnut-shaped waffle.
The autumn crocus (Crocus laevigatus) appears. Flowers white to mauve.
The saffron crocus (Crocus cartwrigbtianus) also appears. Purple blossoms. Stamens used to make the condiment “saffron.”
Cyclamen in full blossom.
The fruit of the orange and tangerine begin to turn golden.
December
The saint of the month is St. Nicholas, and rightly so; the seafarer needs his patron saint most at the year’s end; but there are plenty more on the index of saints.
Decemb
er 4th
St. Barbara
December 5th
St. Savvas
December 6th
St. Nicholas
December 12th
St. Spiridion
After Spiridion’s day the days grow longer by a grain—a horrible pun in Greek.
Christmas Eve—Incense is burned before supper, and those flat hot-cross buns called “Christ’s loaves” are baked in the oven. After supper the cloth is not removed from the table because it is believed that Christ will come and eat during the night. A log or an old shoe is left burning on the fire: the smoke will ward off stray “Kallikanzari” (see “Kaous” in the text).
New Year’s Day belongs to St. Basil: a cake with a silver coin in it is made and cut and luck belongs to whoever finds the coin. After supper the family plays games of divination. A slice of new year cake under a girl’s pillow will do for a Greek girl what a slice of wedding cake does for an English girl.
Twelfth Day—The curious ceremony of diving for the Cross can be seen on Rhodes harbor where a dozen shivering lads contend for the prize, and duck the winner of the reward.
Cyclamen end; anemones begin.
Almond and Japanese meddlers in flower towards end of month.
Oranges and tangerines ripe.
Snow-drops come out in bloom in some parts of the island.
* Acknowledgements are due to Dr. Theodore Stephanides for help with this calendar.
Peasant Remedies
A FEW PEASANT REMEDIES are given here, quoted by permission of the author, from a paper contributed by A. Raymond Mills to the Bulletin of the History of Medicine, Johns Hopkins University.
Abscess
1. Crushed onions with mastika are put on hot as a poultice.
2. Scoop out the center of an onion and fill with sugar, incense, powdered dried reed, olive oil, and a little soap. Cook in the oven and apply to the abscess hot.
3. Snails are gathered, taken out of their shells, ground up, and applied.
Reflections on a Marine Venus: A Companion to the Landscape of Rhodes Page 21
