Jul 19, 2010

The Olive Branch


photo by michelgermain/flickr


Sadly I walk'd within the field,
To see what comfort it would yield;
And as I went my private way,
An olive-branch before me lay;
And seeing it, I made a stay,
And took it up, and view'd it;
then Kissing the omen, said Amen;
Be, be it so, and let this be
A divination unto me;
That in short time my woes shall cease,
And love shall crown my end with peace.

Robert Herrick (via poemhunter)

photo shot on the island of Symi, Greece

Jul 10, 2010

What Makes a Hero Tragic?

A couple of things, according to Aristotle's Poetics:

"1. The tragic hero is a character of noble stature and has greatness. [...]The character must occupy a "high" status position but must ALSO embody nobility and virtue as part of his/her innate character.

2. Though the tragic hero is pre-eminently great, he/she is not perfect. Otherwise, the rest of us--mere mortals--would be unable to identify with the tragic hero. We should see in him or her someone who is essentially like us, although perhaps elevated to a higher position in society.

3. The hero's downfall, therefore, is partially her/his own fault, the result of free choice, not of accident or villainy or some overriding, malignant fate. In fact, the tragedy is usually triggered by some error of judgment or some character flaw that contributes to the hero's lack of perfection noted above. This error of judgment or character flaw is known as hamartia (αμαρτία) and is usually translated as "tragic flaw" (although some scholars argue that this is a mistranslation*). Often the character's hamartia involves hubris (which is defined as a sort of arrogant pride or over-confidence).

*ed.note: indeed, in ancient Greek it simply means "fault", not sin.

4. The hero's misfortunate is not wholly deserved. The punishment exceeds the crime.

5. The fall is not pure loss. There is some increase in awareness, some gain in self-knowledge, some discovery on the part of the tragic hero..."

[source]

Jul 2, 2010

Jul 1, 2010

The Intensity of Blue


photo mnadi/flickr


Door in Matsouki, on the island of Kefalonia, Greece.

Blue which almost vibrates, blue which stops the heat.

Jun 30, 2010

The Jasmine at Your Door

"The jasmine at your door, my jasmine,
oh and I came to prune it, my little bird.
And your mother thought, my Yasemin,
that I came to take you away.

The black eyes, which are sweet, my Yasemin.
Oh, the brows, which are long, my little bird.
Made me forsake ~my Yasemin~ oh, my mother's milk, my little bird."



Thus runs this Cypriot folk song which plays with the double entendre of the word jasmine: the wonderful trellis that grows upon doors and windows of course, but also the traditional Eastern Mediterranean women's name, Yasmin/Yasemin (which means of course Jasmine). So the poet is in turn speaking of the flower and of the woman, the two becoming one and the same...

Savina Yannatou and Primavera en Salonico perform the traditional Cypriot folk song The Jasmin from the album "Mediterranea: Songs Of The Mediterranean" (1998)
Translation from the Greek author's own.

Jun 27, 2010

The Wedding Musicians


photo by Robert Brun/flickr


Wedding band on the island of Alonissos: Sparse, simple, focused. Feast and make merry because by tomorrow we might be dead.