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sethsb's review against another edition
adventurous
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.5
Fermor sketches out a rustic image of life in the Mani, Greece’s southern peninsula along the Taygetus mountains, where hardscrabble people give strangers hospitality beyond the rocky hillsides covered in prickly pair cactus. Maniots are thought to be descended from Spartan warriors who found refuge after Greece fell to the Turks. The author is a Brit who found his second home among the Greeks before the Second World War and was involved in the resistance on Crete. His travel diaries after the war with his wife, Joan, formed both this book and Roumeli, about northern Greece.
The Mani is a place not corrupted by tourism because of its inaccessible nature, except by ferry boats. Fermor arrived down the coast and set off up a sun-baked mountain pass. Villages along the way reveal strange architecture of high marble towers. The author describes how tower-building arms races between families in blood fueds led to higher and higher vantage points, where they would fire cannons to break rooftops.
Not much artwork exists in this barren landscape, but one example stands out, the mournful funeral songs sung by
The Mani is a place not corrupted by tourism because of its inaccessible nature, except by ferry boats. Fermor arrived down the coast and set off up a sun-baked mountain pass. Villages along the way reveal strange architecture of high marble towers. The author describes how tower-building arms races between families in blood fueds led to higher and higher vantage points, where they would fire cannons to break rooftops.
Not much artwork exists in this barren landscape, but one example stands out, the mournful funeral songs sung by
periklis's review against another edition
4.0
A romantic trip to Greece, its countryside and its people. A look back to Greece as it used to be just before the time of our childhood, and the villages that have contributed so much to forming the stereotype for Greeks as a hospitable and friendly people.
The book sagged a little bit (for my taste) in the middle chapters which digressed to discuss Byzantine iconography as well as aspects of Greek folklore, but one may easily omit these chapters without losing much of the flow of the description. The quality of the prose is exceptional.
It has been written with such a fanaticism about anything Greek, that no Greek would even dare (or wish?) to express unless risking to be characterised as an one-sided patriot.
It makes me think - what is it about Greece that draws out of certain people this feeling of extreme partisanship and support that we have come to call philhellenism? It is evident throughout the book that Leigh Fermor is not just enchanted by anything Greek, but also a fervent opponent of anything that has constituted to the decline of a Greek civilisation over the years. Reading the book has been as allowing someone to peer into our country, filter out its daily demons, and present it as a pure paradise. And this blended with the sense of adventure, and a certain bon-viveur-ism that is typical of the images of post-WWII Europe.
The book sagged a little bit (for my taste) in the middle chapters which digressed to discuss Byzantine iconography as well as aspects of Greek folklore, but one may easily omit these chapters without losing much of the flow of the description. The quality of the prose is exceptional.
It has been written with such a fanaticism about anything Greek, that no Greek would even dare (or wish?) to express unless risking to be characterised as an one-sided patriot.
It makes me think - what is it about Greece that draws out of certain people this feeling of extreme partisanship and support that we have come to call philhellenism? It is evident throughout the book that Leigh Fermor is not just enchanted by anything Greek, but also a fervent opponent of anything that has constituted to the decline of a Greek civilisation over the years. Reading the book has been as allowing someone to peer into our country, filter out its daily demons, and present it as a pure paradise. And this blended with the sense of adventure, and a certain bon-viveur-ism that is typical of the images of post-WWII Europe.
didireadthat's review against another edition
3.5
My knowledge of actual Greek history (not just mythology) is lacking and I did not recognize many of the names or areas discussed in the book. I would have liked to hear a lot more about the individuals the author met and who he travelled with. A lot of the book is his commentary on different aspects of the culture, art, stories, and work of the Mani and I like hearing about the other individuals and the architecture and history of each town instead of his wondering thoughts. Overall though I learned a lot and have a sparked interest in Greece and the Mani in particular.
fourtriplezed's review against another edition
5.0
The chapter on ikons is some of the most wonderful writings I have ever read and stirred a memory. Many years ago I went to a church in the Troodos Mountains in Cyprus called St Nicholas of the Roof. There was a curator who was keen to explain, in very broken English, the significance of the painting and the ikons that were like nothing I had ever seen prior. Though not part of the Mani this superb book reminded me of that great big adventure on my first and only island of any Greek significance. The fact Patrick Leigh Fermor could refresh my distant memory of that visit to Cyprus has me hankering to visit mainland Greece and the Mani and all other places in that ancient land. Will there be old Greek curators with only broken English when I go? I hope so.
phouweling's review against another edition
3.0
Mostly a report of the author’s travels through the Mani peninsula on Peloponnesos, but also partly a history book and a guide to Greek mythology, art, people, and culture - this book is a bit of everything. Some of the digressions (ikons - really?!) were too much for me, as was the flowery language. Thus: 3 stars
sadie_slater's review against another edition
4.0
Mani: Travels in the Southern Peloponnese is Patrick Leigh Fermor's account of a trip he and his wife Joan made to the Mani peninsula in the mid-1950s. The Mani is the rocky, isolated southern tip of Greece, where a handful of villages are squeezed between the sea and the heights of the Taygetus mountains which form the backbone of the peninsula. No doubt it's very different these days, but in the 1950s there were hardly any roads, and Leigh Fermor found a peasant society in many ways untouched by the twentieth century. Originally intended to form a chapter in a more general book on Greece, his account of the trip (with many of his typical digressions into the history and culture of the region, or even into pure flights of fancy such as his imaginative response to meeting a fisherman who may have been a direct descendent of the last Byzantine Emperor) exanded into a whole book.
I picked the book up because as the days approached their shortest at the end of a particularly wet and gloomy autumn I was longing to escape to Mediterranean warmth and sunshine, even if only via a book (I don't actually ever expect to be able to get as far as Greece physically, especially given the impending loss of my freedom of movement). Leigh Fermor has an incredible ability to paint a picture in words and I really felt that I could see the sunbaked rocky hills, the blue bays and the villages full of half-ruined towers. While I love his erudition and the way his travel writing encompasses more than just the here and now of the places he visits, I did feel that some of the digressions in Mani (particularly the one on ikon-painting) perhaps went on a little too long, and I missed the forward momentum of his account of his walk across Europe, but it's a fascinating and beautifully-written book and I very much enjoyed it.
I picked the book up because as the days approached their shortest at the end of a particularly wet and gloomy autumn I was longing to escape to Mediterranean warmth and sunshine, even if only via a book (I don't actually ever expect to be able to get as far as Greece physically, especially given the impending loss of my freedom of movement). Leigh Fermor has an incredible ability to paint a picture in words and I really felt that I could see the sunbaked rocky hills, the blue bays and the villages full of half-ruined towers. While I love his erudition and the way his travel writing encompasses more than just the here and now of the places he visits, I did feel that some of the digressions in Mani (particularly the one on ikon-painting) perhaps went on a little too long, and I missed the forward momentum of his account of his walk across Europe, but it's a fascinating and beautifully-written book and I very much enjoyed it.
halfmanhalfbook's review against another edition
3.0
Mani is the very southern part of Greece, an isolated peninsular surrounded by the Aegean and Ionian seas, and made more remote by the Taygettus mountain range. It is a harsh environment too; precious little grows here because of its rugged and barren landscape.
This isolation also means that the region has maintained much stronger links to its ancient past too. The myths and legends of history feel so much more alive here than in other parts of Greece. The language harks back to old dialects, and even thought the orthodox church has a strong influence, pagan and old habits still exist.
Mixed in with Fermor’s travels around Mani are several chapters on the history of the land and the people. Some of it is fascinating, in particular the reason that the towns are peppered with towers. These are the remanats of the long battles that used to take place between the various families and people of the region, who all seemed to have a long term running vendettas . That is until the Turks turned up and suddenly they were all fighting the common enemy.
The travel part is beautifully written, Fermor has a way with words that make what he is seeing so evocative and appealing. Overall 3.5 stars, as the history parts were a little tedious occasionally.
halfmanhalfbook's review against another edition
3.0
Mani is the very southern part of Greece, an isolated peninsular surrounded by the Aegean and Ionian seas, and made more remote by the Taygettus mountain range. It is a harsh environment too; precious little grows here because of its rugged and barren landscape.
This isolation also means that the region has maintained much stronger links to its ancient past too. The myths and legends of history feel so much more alive here than in other parts of Greece. The language harks back to old dialects, and even thought the orthodox church has a strong influence, pagan and old habits still exist.
Mixed in with Fermor’s travels around Mani are several chapters on the history of the land and the people. Some of it is fascinating, in particular the reason that the towns are peppered with towers. These are the remanats of the long battles that used to take place between the various families and people of the region, who all seemed to have a long term running vendettas . That is until the Turks turned up and suddenly they were all fighting the common enemy.
The travel part is beautifully written, Fermor has a way with words that make what he is seeing so evocative and appealing. Overall 3.5 stars, as the history parts were a little tedious occasionally.
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