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A review by xterminal
Farewell Anatolia by Dido Sotiriou
3.0
Dido Sotiriou, Farewell Anatolia (Kedros, 1962)
According to my spreadsheet, it took me eight hundred twenty-six days to finish Farewell, Anatolia. I started it on October 5, 2007, and finished it on January 8, 2010. That sets a record for the longest amount of time it has taken me to finish a book. Usually, when I've put something down for over a year at a stretch, I'll pick it up, give it one more try, and then send it out the window into the nearest burning bush. But the last time I picked up Farewell, Anatolia, I just kept reading, and eventually I finished it. This comes after at least two periods where I didn't pick it up for six months, and one year-plus period. I'd remember I was reading it, pull it off the pile, read another chapter, decide I didn't want to feed it to the dustbunnies, put it down, and forget about it for another huge stretch of time. And yet I did finish it, which has to count for something in my estimation.
The book revolves around Manolis Axiotis, a witness to—and participant in—the events surrounding the Turkish attack on Greeks living in Anatolia, the Greek counterattack, and the final crushing of non-Turks that drove them out of the area altogether in 1922. (The beginning of the book takes place some years previous to that; Axiotis does a lot of growing up in these pages.) As things begin, relations between Turks and Greeks in Anatolia are a bit strained nationally, but cordial between the actual people of Kirkica, Axiotis' home village. Turkish nationalism is being whipped up, however, and soon the Turks are trying to drive the Greeks out of the country. Axiotis' brothers, and then Axiotis himself, are called up to serve, and for the bulk of the book, Axiotis fights in various skirmishes between Turks and Greeks, as well as working in labor camps, being held prisoner, and the like. Then comes the final disaster.
It is only recently that the Armenian Massacre of 1915 has become a popular subject again (though “popular” isn't the term I'm looking for; I hope you know what I mean) in literature, leading to the prosecution of a number of Turkish writers for a crime that, translated, means “insulting Turkishness.” Even mentioning the Armenian Massacre in Turkey is considered insulting Turkishness, and even Turks on foreign soil have been charged (Elif Shafak being the most notable recent case). Sotiriou's book reminds us that Turkish antipathy towards the Armenians didn't end with the Massacre; there was a second in 1922, on the same night the Greeks were driven out (and, he notes with a great deal of bitterness, British and French warships floated just off the coast, bearing silent witness). If for no other reason, Farewell, Anatolia is important because I know of no other piece of fiction that deals with the Armenian Massacre of 1922, let alone the one and a half million Greeks displaced by Kemal Ataturk during the same offensive (a number equalled by the number of Greeks killed on Turkish soil by this hostilities between World War I and 1922). In the same way the world cannot be allowed to forget the Armenian Massacre of 1915, the world cannot be allowed to forget this.
And yet it seems to me that another writer could do this material the justice it so gravely deserves. It may well have been a conscious decision on Sotiriou's part to make Axiotis a character with no personality; he is a sponge, and he soaks up what is around him, transforming himself again and again into a different person based on the events in his immediate vicinity. It is obvious how such a character would be very attractive to a writer who is more interested in detailing events rather than an actual, three-dimensional main character. But it is exactly this which causes so much message fiction to fail; we never get a sense of Manolis Axiotis. He is more a ghost flitting through battle scenes than an actual character, and if you consider him thus, it explains a lot of the episodic nature of the book (for example, Manolis never has a friend for more than a few chapters, save a few characters in Kirkica). Sotiriou had this incredible, horrifying palette of events, but never gave any thought to the kind of character who could tie them together. As a result, Axiotis is more a pastiche than a person. This is the reason I went so long between chapters on such a regular basis; I couldn't get a handle on Axiotis in my head. He isn't interesting enough to keep me going. And yet there is so much in this book that needs to be said. ** ½
According to my spreadsheet, it took me eight hundred twenty-six days to finish Farewell, Anatolia. I started it on October 5, 2007, and finished it on January 8, 2010. That sets a record for the longest amount of time it has taken me to finish a book. Usually, when I've put something down for over a year at a stretch, I'll pick it up, give it one more try, and then send it out the window into the nearest burning bush. But the last time I picked up Farewell, Anatolia, I just kept reading, and eventually I finished it. This comes after at least two periods where I didn't pick it up for six months, and one year-plus period. I'd remember I was reading it, pull it off the pile, read another chapter, decide I didn't want to feed it to the dustbunnies, put it down, and forget about it for another huge stretch of time. And yet I did finish it, which has to count for something in my estimation.
The book revolves around Manolis Axiotis, a witness to—and participant in—the events surrounding the Turkish attack on Greeks living in Anatolia, the Greek counterattack, and the final crushing of non-Turks that drove them out of the area altogether in 1922. (The beginning of the book takes place some years previous to that; Axiotis does a lot of growing up in these pages.) As things begin, relations between Turks and Greeks in Anatolia are a bit strained nationally, but cordial between the actual people of Kirkica, Axiotis' home village. Turkish nationalism is being whipped up, however, and soon the Turks are trying to drive the Greeks out of the country. Axiotis' brothers, and then Axiotis himself, are called up to serve, and for the bulk of the book, Axiotis fights in various skirmishes between Turks and Greeks, as well as working in labor camps, being held prisoner, and the like. Then comes the final disaster.
It is only recently that the Armenian Massacre of 1915 has become a popular subject again (though “popular” isn't the term I'm looking for; I hope you know what I mean) in literature, leading to the prosecution of a number of Turkish writers for a crime that, translated, means “insulting Turkishness.” Even mentioning the Armenian Massacre in Turkey is considered insulting Turkishness, and even Turks on foreign soil have been charged (Elif Shafak being the most notable recent case). Sotiriou's book reminds us that Turkish antipathy towards the Armenians didn't end with the Massacre; there was a second in 1922, on the same night the Greeks were driven out (and, he notes with a great deal of bitterness, British and French warships floated just off the coast, bearing silent witness). If for no other reason, Farewell, Anatolia is important because I know of no other piece of fiction that deals with the Armenian Massacre of 1922, let alone the one and a half million Greeks displaced by Kemal Ataturk during the same offensive (a number equalled by the number of Greeks killed on Turkish soil by this hostilities between World War I and 1922). In the same way the world cannot be allowed to forget the Armenian Massacre of 1915, the world cannot be allowed to forget this.
And yet it seems to me that another writer could do this material the justice it so gravely deserves. It may well have been a conscious decision on Sotiriou's part to make Axiotis a character with no personality; he is a sponge, and he soaks up what is around him, transforming himself again and again into a different person based on the events in his immediate vicinity. It is obvious how such a character would be very attractive to a writer who is more interested in detailing events rather than an actual, three-dimensional main character. But it is exactly this which causes so much message fiction to fail; we never get a sense of Manolis Axiotis. He is more a ghost flitting through battle scenes than an actual character, and if you consider him thus, it explains a lot of the episodic nature of the book (for example, Manolis never has a friend for more than a few chapters, save a few characters in Kirkica). Sotiriou had this incredible, horrifying palette of events, but never gave any thought to the kind of character who could tie them together. As a result, Axiotis is more a pastiche than a person. This is the reason I went so long between chapters on such a regular basis; I couldn't get a handle on Axiotis in my head. He isn't interesting enough to keep me going. And yet there is so much in this book that needs to be said. ** ½