Georgios Souris ΓΕΩΡΓΙΟΣ ΣΟΥΡΗΣ
Born February 2, 1853 Died August 26, 1919
Section 2, Number 468
While strolling in the cemetery the
other day a memorial caught my eye. It was the life-size bust of a man writing
atop a cairn of stones. He was deep in concentration, and backlit by the last
rays of the afternoon sun. I was charmed, and even more so when I saw it was Georgios Souris.
Souris was a prolific satiric poet who,
when he died in 1919, was known and dearly loved all over Greece but hardly known
at all outside of its borders. Nominated five times for the Nobel Prize, he
never came close and that is probably down to his choice of genre. Locally
focused satire has never received much credit in a literary world that traditionally
prefers ‘high seriousness’ in its Nobel winners. Greece would have to wait for another George –
George Seferis- to claim the coveted award. Still, Souris was a poetic genius and not just because of the superb control of
meter and rhyme throughout his work which made him easy to read and even easier
to recite. A written bon mot of Souris would often spread like wildfire through
Athens just by word of mouth!
Souris had a wonderful sense of the
ridiculous and a quick imagination that could whisk any topic he chose towards the
absurd, the mythic, the lurid, or the downright fantastic. His subject was Greece, Greeks, and the world
they lived in; he had a grasp of the Greek character that was so acute and
comical at the same time that you would have to go back as far as Aristophanes
to find his equal. And like Aristophanes, he could be funny and
profound at the same time. The comic mind is nothing if not a thinking mind.
Some modern critics have labelled his poetry
doggerel. If that term applies at all, I would insist on calling him the Mozart
of doggerel!
Souris satirized the everyday life of Athenians
mercilessly but he did it in such a way that almost all of his ‘victims’ remained
his fans. Nothing was sacred but he was
never nasty in the Trumpian sense. His four paged weekly newspaper Romios became so popular that he made a good
living from its weekly sales - no small accomplishment for a poet in any era.
His Life
Georgios was born in Ermopoli on the
Cycladic island of Syros. His father wanted him to become a theologian but
there was not enough money for that. He completed his education in Athens and
then headed to Tagarok in Russia to work for his uncle, a wheat merchant. That
didn’t last long. Luckily for us he then brought his critical eye and penchant
for satire back to Athens. He began writing for the theatre and never lost his
love for that. He was writing theatrical
plays well into the 1900s.
His first poem was published in 1873
when he was 21 years old.
The Greek Press During This Era
In the early 1860s, the Greek press was still
in its infancy. (1) The first serious writers on
the subject of politics, like Alexandros Soutsos, wrote their thoughts in verse
(shades of Solon) before prose became the newspaper norm. The first satiric papers appeared around 1860
and were written, for the most part, in demotic Greek. By 1879 Souris was
publishing verse along with the likes of Georgios Drosinis, Nikolaos Kambas, Costis Palamas and Emmanuel Roidis (a great writer but less read today because he
chose to write in catharevousa, the
‘pure’ language). Before branching out on his own, Souris contributed to Asmodaios and
other satirical publications of the day. Satiric drawings were also in their infancy
back then. Asmodaios and later Romios
were lucky to have the talent of the likes of Themis Aninnos on tap.(2)
Asmodaios was the brainchild of
Emmanuel Roidis and Themis Aninnos, and published from 1975 to 1885
Satire has always suited Athenian
sensibilities. Whether directed at the elite or ‘oi polloi’, pointed barbs are always
appreciated if they are witty enough! If the jab reflects back on the reader,
all the better. This is as true today as it was in Souris’ time. And because many
aspects of the Greek character, economy and politics have remained remarkably
consistent, (3) many of Souris’
poems are as fresh today as when he penned them!
Aside from the economy (never good), political
chaos (never not), his was also an era when two very different aspects of the
Greek personality were vying for supremacy: the Hellene and the Romios (the
Roman)! ‘Hellenes’ were represented by the educated intellectuals, initially
foreign born and educated, who wanted a revival of all that was great in
Greece’s illustrious past – a return to a pure language called catharevousa, and
to lofty philosophy, to greatness! In Souris’ day, to be a Roman, (the term was
the correct designation for Greeks in Byzantine times and later) had become a
derogatory term for hapless citizens who had been residents in the Kingdom
before 1830, had missed the benefits of a Europeanized education, and who spoke
demotic, a form of Greek that had evolved over time but was considered too
bastardized for serious ‘Hellenic’ thinking. What made this ongoing tug of war so
inherently comical was the fact that a Hellene and a Roman reside in the soul
of every Greek to one degree or
another. Although presented by
intellectuals as a dichotomy, the reality was much more complex and the recognition
of this fact, even by those who considered themselves ‘Hellenes’ made the subject
a satirist’s dream.
When Souris undertook his own publication
in April 7, 1883, the fact that he called it Romios says a lot.
Note the typical ‘Romios’
seated in the header of the Newspaper
Again and again he would cloak himself
in a Romios persona while at the same
time lampooning him:
Romios
Outside
the coffee shop, sprawled like a Bey,
I
bathe in the sun - just soaking up rays.
Deep
in the news – each text do I note;
I
don’t bother with others. Not one do I note!
Stretching
one leg on the seat of a chair,
A
foot on another ... while right over there
I
toss my cap then, without inhibitions,
Curse
government hacks and all politicians!
...
I
curse English, and Russians and, yes, all the while
I’m twirling my moustache to show
off my style
And
during my ranting consign them to Hell
Tho’
knowing I’m sending myself there as well!
European
allies? I give ‘em ‘the hand’
While
a fist on the table constantly lands
Spilling
my coffee – I stain all my clothes,
And
mouth every blasphemy I can compose!
I lash out at the patron; he’s really vexed
By
his upset buffet – a sorry old mess.
He
swears then I swear; He strikes, I do too,
And
then I leg it – and don’t pay a sou! (4)
Of course, the reason this poem was so popular
is because the figure was as instantly recognizable then as he is today. Patrick
Leigh Fermor was still discussing the Romios stereotype versus the Hellene in
his travelogue Roumeli published in
1966.
Souris had such a wonderful grasp of
his audience’s tastes and of current events that Romios often had a
higher circulation than the ‘serious’ newspapers of the day. He well and truly had
his finger on the pulse as well as the funny bone of Athens.
In the beginning Souris had help from Demitrios
Kokkos and Ioannis Polemis but soon Romios
was a solo effort that continued until 1918 – 36 years. His output was truly amazing (that weekly
deadline!) and included theatrical productions as well. In 1900
his translation of Aristophane’s “The Clouds” was presented with acclaim at the
Athens municipal theatre.
His Place in the Cultural Life of Greece
Souris was considered a serious poet during
his lifetime and was very much a part of the national revival of literature
that was occurring at this time. He was a member of the Parnassos Literary Society, a society founded in 1865 - and is still going strong
in a building at 8 Plateia Georgiou Karitsi Street just off Stadiou in downtown Athens.(5)
A famous painting by Roilos shows him seated
with Costis Palamas, Georgos Drosinis and other luminaries at one of their many
meetings:
Palamas is in the centre and Souris is
on his left.
He and his wife welcomed guests in
their literary salon at their home at 15 Pinakoton (Πινακώτων) Street in Exarchia (today’s Charilaos
Trikoupis Street). With the guest list
of fellow poets, satirists, and members of parliament, we can only imagine what
entertaining conversation ensued. Prime
Minister Charilaos Trikoupis was a fan and even hired him for a brief period
which ended when Trikoupis was voted out of office - yet again. The great Costis Palamas would express
admiration for Souris’ ironic dexterity.
By virtually all contemporary accounts he was a kind, witty, and
hospitable man. Although a misogynist for satirical purposes (a popular and
universal position at the time that no one seemed to find odd (6)), he was happily married to Maria Constantinidi
whom he had married in 1881. They had five
children although she would often insist that with Souris in the house, she
really had six. Oh to be a fly on the wall....
Not everyone approved of his subject
matter. The Literary Digest wrote: He publishes every week a little satirical
journal, the ‘Romios’ in which jokes, not always as decent as might be... etc
etc.
He could be naughty to the point of
being Swiftian. His poem Nothing Remains
(Τιποτε δεν απόμεινε) is the classical example of his
scatological side. It can fairly be described as a tour de force! It has defeated
my efforts to translate it for the simple reason that English does not have a rich
enough variety of words on the subject of excrement that a poem of this calibre
demands!(7)
His Legacy
His many nominations for the Nobel prize
were supported by the intellectuals of the day and in 1906 by the entire Greek
parliament - quite an accolade considering his many satiric verses about
politicians. He was awarded the King’s
medal for his contribution to the Arts in 1915.
But surely his most lasting legacy is the fact that almost every Greek today
can recite one of his poems.(8) When he died in
Athens in 1919, the country genuinely mourned his loss.
A Taste of Souris for English Readers:
Have you heard of a state of meagre girth,
One quite unique in all the earth
That for every hundred it can spend
Collects just fifty in the end?
Which feeds the idlers, every one
And has prime min’sters by the ton?
The public purse? It’s quite unsound.
But glorious statues - they abound!
...
Poor
you, Greece:
...
With such offspring on the loose
Where once mighty heroes reigned,
Today mere donkeys you produce!
Heroes
Mid the rumble of shots and cannon
balls
Soldiers in the bloom of youth - all
fall.
Gone are their bodies, their dashing graces!
Unknown, they are buried in far desert
places
...
Anonymous heroes, and unknown their
graves
With no one with letters their names
to engrave.
They enter; Earth kisses them with her
lips,
No cross set for them, and no lanterns
lit.(7)
...
To
My Shadow
Re, Shadow! You’re tracking me! I’m
asking why.
You don’t leave me in peace to run on
my own?
Hey Shadow! Why don’t you make
yourself shy?
Have I got to be stuck with a following
clone?
Sometimes you’re crooked, sometimes in
a line
Long as a skewer, - then small as a
tyke,
First leading me onward, then trailing
behind;
I find you right here! ... Then you’re
out of sight!
...
Hey shadow! Why do you follow me
still?
I wish you’d take off, just head for
the hills!
I meet you at home on the street,
everywhere
and sometimes you give me a heck of a
scare!
His
Grave
Section Two, Number 468
The bust was created in 1932 by another
fan, sculptor N. P, Georgantis
The Map
Footnotes
1.
Greece in
Transition by J.T. Koumoulides (Zeno 1977) has a
very interesting chapter on the birth of the modern Press in Greece.
2. I would love to do an entry on Aninnos, the 19th
century Arkas but, alas,
he is buried
elsewhere.
3. Greek history really does seem to repeat
itself – not exactly, but in a kind of spiral.
4. I am guilty of these translations. Translating
Souris and still conveying his tone is not for the faint-hearted!
5. The Parnassos Literary Society (Φιλολογικός Σύλλογος Παρνασσός) can
still be visited. It is an imposing mansion off Stadiou Street. It boasts a
large library and collection of Greek paintings. Opening hours are not listed on its website so
call first: 210 322 1917.
6. Kalliroi Parren was about the only
journalist who took on the ‘boys club’ of her era.
7. Heroes is a poignant
poem that reminds me of In Flanders
Fields...
8. I tried asking my Greek friends for a
bon mot of Souris and was rarely disappointed. When I told my daughter I was
considering an entry on Souris, she immediately responded with Nothing
Remains - word for word.
Thank you -- great article!
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