As my butterfly mind flutters between Britain and Greece, I
find minor pleasures in strange places creating a bonne bouche, comprising a few tasty mezes mixed with a handful of toothsome hors d’oeuvres. Please share them with me.
Yesterday was the Feast of the Assumption (the Orthodox call
it the Dormition “falling asleep”, of the Virgin) when the more devout
Catholics and Orthodox celebrate the assumption of Mary, Mother of God, into
paradise. The exact details are hard to pin down; many believe Mary died a
natural death and then miraculously resurrected to heaven; others cut through
such questions and maintain that Mary was gathered up by the heavenly host and
physically deposited beside her Son. Here in Samos, after days of monotonous
chanting of the liturgy amplified by microphones, a lavish silver icon of the
Virgin was processed through the streets, the local brass band, girls and boys
in exemplary white uniforms, played the Dead March and later a more cheerful
repertoire. At various points the bells clanged rather tunelessly (England’s
dulcet bell-tones are unknown) and the procession was headed by the bishop,
archimandrites, priests and their acolytes, soldiers and a good turn-out of the
faithful. Inevitably many of them were old and female – the younger generation
is slowly moving away from this ghostly world.
The Assumption by Rubens, Antwerp Cathedral 1626 |
Families gather for barbecue feasts and some convivial
drinking. The great day is also a Name-Day for everyone called Mary or any
variant of it like Mario, Marigo, or Marianna so there are endless phone calls
of good wishes and congratulation to complete. My dear wife Betty was
christened Panayota, which derives from the Greek title for the BVM, the
“Panayia”, so it is her name-day too. In the Orthodox world the expression “St
Mary” is not used – Mary’s place in their hierarchy is rather higher than mere
sainthood! In honour of my excellent wife I took her to our favourite seaside
restaurant and we lazed luxuriantly by the crashing waves in the glorious heat.
--------------------------
Talking of saints naturally moves me on to Jacob Rees-Mogg,
the amusing Tory traditionalist (or reactionary, if you prefer) who certainly
heads an admiring cult. A “silly season” story has gone the rounds that Jacob
has designs on the leadership of the Tory party, strenuously denied by Jacob
himself. He has the fatal handicaps of being clever, rich, conscientious,
polite and an Old Etonian. His debating skills are well-honed but his political
views are firmly embedded in the late 19th or early 20th
century, he is an old-school Catholic and his Fogeyish manner would not go down
too well in proletarian England. But he is a fine fellow and his talents should
be mobilised perhaps as the next Commons Speaker or Chairman of the BBC.
Talented Jacob Rees-Mogg |
I was critical of the clanging noise of Greek church bells
but at least they play. I find it astounding that the chimes of Big Ben will be
silent for all of 4 years while the clock and its tower are repaired. This is
much too long and I ascribe it to “Elf & Safety” and inadequate oversight
of contractors. Apparently only one face of the clock itself will be
functioning, so at least half Londoners will not even be able to see the time.
Big Ben is a symbol of London and symbols matter.
Towering Big Ben |
As if Greece did not have enough problems, this year there
have been more than the usual crop of wildfires, devastating forested land. The
Greeks accuse the Turks and conservative New Democracy blames the radical
SYRIZA government. The truth is more banal. In Zakinthos fires started in 13
quite separate locations, which was no co-incidence. There are sick pyromaniacs
in every country – a 63-year-old was arrested this morning in Parnes, near
Athens carrying fire-raising gear, and here in Samos a member of the public
found a timed incendiary device near a beach. What damage these sickos can
cause!
Deadly Wildfires in Zakinthos |
Greek summer TV is pretty dire, but yesterday we were
greatly cheered to catch a re-run of the perennial classic Top Hat (1935) with Fred and Ginger in wonderful form. “Isn’t this
a lovely day to be caught in the rain?” and “Dancing Cheek to Cheek” are immortal
numbers – why does nobody dance these days? The Golden Oldies are the best –
and so say all of us!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOYzFKizikU Cheek to Cheek
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dl6FLfHTC68 Caught in the Rain
SMD
16.08.17
Text Copyright ©Sidney Donald 2017
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