1. M. Vitti, (Athens, 1977), p. 235.

2. Ibid., p. 335.

3. Ibid., pp. 329-30.

4. The ideas contained in this article have as their starting point my D.Phil. thesis, The Development of the Greek Novel 1923-1940, presented to Oxford in 1972. In view of the appearance in the meantime of Vitti’s book I shall attempt to avoid duplicating what he says. I refer the reader especially to his valuable section on Politis op. cit., pp. 324-42).

5. Page references to Lemonodasos and Hekate are made to the first editions. Eroica appeared in book form in 1938. It was, however, first published in instalments in III (1937). References are made both to this first publication and to the current edition (4th ed., Athens, n.d.).

6. Compare Theocritus, Idylls 2, 35-6: Venieris’ exclamation is echoed in Pavlos’ words on p. 376: ‘I want to liberate myself […] from the cone of Erebos, which is guarded by Hekate.’

7. Dogs are barking during both scenes (pp. 264 and 291-2).

8. It has been pointed out by several critics that Eroica owes much to Le Grand Meaulnes by Alain-Fournier, and both A. Sachinis (H 2nd ed. [Athens, 1971], p. 18) and Vitti (op. cit., p. 341n.) believe that it surpasses its predecessor. The similarities are in fact striking: the painful wrench from adolescent make-believe to adult reality; the schoolboys and their gang; the fête and the bal masqué, in both of which there appear pierrots and harlequins; the domaine secret and the secret garden, both of which are physically destroyed; the escape of Frantz and Meaulnes in Meaulnes and of Loizos in Eroica, etc. Even the narrators in both novels have some similarities: they are younger man the chief characters; they act as go-betweens; and each of them is secretly in love with one of the girls. It would, however, be instructive to examine further the differences which distinguish the two novels: the style of Meaulnes is too realistic for the characters and plot; there is no interior monologue; the plot is artificially extended in a paratactic manner, whereas that of Eroica develops organically widi a complexity of self-reference, moving inexorably towards its climax (the action of Meaulnes covers four years, while that of Eroica lasts seven weeks); the atmosphere of Meaulnes (especially in its later chapters) is steeped in a rather oppressive melancholy which is absent from the more exuberant Eroica; and, finally, Meaulnes lacks the irony which lends Eroica much of its excitement.

9. The echoes of the Iliad in Eroica and Politis’ view of heroism as shown in the novel have been well enough covered by the critics to allow me to ignore them in this article.

10. The time setting of the novel is fixed quite specifically throughout the novel without a date ever being explicitly mentioned. There does seem to be one discrepancy, however: there are indications that the action begins on Saturday, 2 February (see p. 8/12), which will have to be altered to 5 February to fit in with the rest. Thus the first ball takes place on 12 February, the games on 17 February ( the excursion to Defkalia on Sunday, 6 March, and the second ball on Friday, 25 March. The action does not take us up to Easter (17 April): there is no Resurrection. If we remember that the dates are given according to the Old Calendar (the action takes place about 1900), the coming of spring in the novel does not seem premature.

11. At one point, Andronikos advises Alekos: ‘ making a play on the first line of Hamlet’s famous soliloquy as it is traditionally translated into Greek. Alekos replies innocently: ‘You’re talking like the actor who was reciting at the inn.’ (p. 669/224).

12. There are many other references to the boys’ uniforms and to dressing up throughout the book (using words such as It is significant that the invitations to the second ball at the Montecuculis’ residence on the night of Alekos’ death specify ‘toilette de ville’ (p. 726/239) in contrast to the ‘bal masqué’ six weeks previously.

13. There is a certain fatalism here, as there is in Hekate. There is the precedent of the death of Alekos’ uncle during or after making love, and Gaetano’s confession to Alekos of his ‘sin’, which was to crush some ants to death as they were enjoying the lump of sugar which he had laid down as bait: as he puts it (p. 191/86). There is, more obviously, Gaetano’s passionate determination to shoot the tom-cat (which seems to bear some subconscious relation to the ‘sin’ for which he is atoning); Alekos’ unease when Gaetano first shows him the gun (pp. 189-90/83); Gaetano’s near-miss; and many odier préfigurations of Alekos’ end.

14. There are indications that Alekos believes himself to be a reincarnation of Andronikos (see his interest in metempsychosis, pp. 656/208), and Alekos seems to remind his modier of his uncle (p. 104/54).

15. In Hekate, a fisherman tells a story of a frog dying while mating; Kalanis calls this (p. 95). Later in the novel (p. 264), Kalanis recalls that Eros and Thanatos are twin brothers.

16. Reply to a questionnaire published in VI (1938), no. 1, pp. 12-13.

17. Interview published in 28 May 1939, p. 12.

18. Interview with G. P. Savidis, published in K. Politis, (Athens, 1963), p. ix.

19. Muecke, D. C., Irony (London, 1970), p. 24.Google Scholar

20. Politis’ use of irony probably owes much to André Gide. In La Porte étroite, Alissa’s journal (appended after the end of Jérôme’s narration and unknown to Jérôme at the time he was writing) provides a completely new point of view and consequendy adds a new dimension to the story which the reader has read so unsuspectingly.

21. Here, too, there is a parallel widi Gide. In La Symphonie pastorale, the pastor-narrator misjudges his own character, yet lets his reader see his true personality between the lines of the narration, so that the reader can see the implications of the situation before the narrator himself does.

22. Hera’s little son, who is the one who introduces Kalanis to the women, is called Eris: perhaps a pun on Eris, goddess of strife, or on Ares (who was Hera’s son) or an embodiment of Eros – as well as being an anagram of Ersi.

23. Politis explained to me in conversation (2 December 1971) that the Church did not allow children to be baptized with non-Christian names, and that his parents had to choose a Christian name beginning with the same letter as his ‘real’ name. It is interesting to note mat several of Politis’ heroes (those who are of a mechanical turn of mind) have names beginning with the same letters: Pavlos (in Lemonodasos and Hekate), Paraskevas (in Eroica) and Pandelis (in At Hadzifrangos’).

24. Two examples: (i) One of the middle-aged characters who accompany the children to Defkalia (which is described in such a way as to remind the reader of Nafpaktos, or Lepanto) is Mr. Lepante, who is accused of being a Don Juan by a girl he flirts with (p. 518/183). This is a further indication of Politis’ view of middle-aged men as Don Juans (compare Kalanis, Pendelitis, Joe Iraklidis-Nazis, Montecuculi and others) in contrast with the more natural (?) attitude of adolescents in love; there is also a pun here on Don John of Austria, (ii) One of Alekos’ uncles is Uncle Plato, in whose name Politis plays on the double meaning of (‘uncle’ and ‘divine’): it is an old cliché in Greek for Plato’s name to be accompanied by the epithet ‘divine’. The boys even observe Uncle Plato’s shadow on the wall (p. 530/200), which reminds one of Book X of The Republic. The influence of Plato’s thought on Politis world-view is profound.

25. One should also add musical references, for instance the Moonlight Sonata in Hekate (p. 25) and Der Wanderer in Eroica (p. 532/202, after Loizos has run away).

26. For reasons unknown to me, the second line of this quotation appears in the original version as ‘les lauries sont fanés’ (pp. 523, 526, 533). The alteration had been made by the second edition (1944, pp. 175, 180, 187).

27. In Dubliners (Penguin ed., 1968), pp. 172-210.

28. Among the similarities are: (i) The second sentence of the chapter in Eroica (p. 172 [omitted in 4th ed.]; cf. ‘The Dead’, p. 173); (ii) The hostesses peering over the banisters to see who is arriving (Eroica, p. 172/60; cf. ‘The Dead’, p. 173); (iii) A latecomer blaming his wife for the delay (Eroica, p. 174/63; cf. ‘The Dead’, p. 174); (iv) The interrupted conversations between Alekos and Monica, and between Gabriel and Miss Ivors in the middle of the lancers (Eroica, pp. 183-5/75-7; cf. ‘The Dead’, 185-6); (v) Alekos and Gabriel tapping the window-pane and wishing they were outside (Eroica, pp. 185-6/78; cf. ‘The Dead’, p. 189); (vi) The figure of a listening woman seen by one of the characters as a symbol of something indefinable (Eroica, p. 187/80, where this leads into another reference to English literature – a quotation from Arthur Symons’ poem ‘Dance of the Daughters of Herodias’; cf. ‘The Dead’, p. 207); and (vii) The repeated ‘goodnights’ at the end of the party (18 in Eroica, pp. 197-8/94; 13 in ‘The Dead’, pp. 209-10).