Showing posts with label Greek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greek. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Drabble Wednesday: Monsters

Today on Drabble Wednesday, I pull back the veil to show the horrors. Today we walk with monsters…



Oh, The Web We Weave

Such things you can hide behind a smile.
Contempt, distaste, arrogance, hatred.
A flash of teeth is all it takes, perhaps a warm handshake, a chuckle.
And no one knows.
People want to believe. They want to trust.
A cheery smile is the best mask. The best way to hide.
A great smile can keep everyone at bay, keep them calm.
But you keep your secrets, those dark things behind the smile, with lies.
Carefully crafted, intricate, but an effortless deception.
So no one suspects. So no one questions you.
So no one sees the hunger.
Until they are dead.

~*~



No Mirrors

I watch them from the shadows.
The people that come to the wellspring’s pool. They laugh and chatter, collecting the water in clay jugs, idling staring at their reflection in the water.
I hate them. I envy them.
I don’t look at my reflection anymore.
I am lonely.
They don’t know I am here. I wonder if they even know of my cave. Most don’t.
But some have come. Some have stayed.
That is my consolation. My stone warriors. My beautiful collection of death.
Those fools that came to kill me.
That dared to looked upon the face of Medusa.

~*~



Sea Shanty

I sing, my voice calling from the sea.
I sing, of the dark water, and its cold, cold depths. Of the waves on the rocks, and the sweet salt breeze. Of the freedom tossed, upon the brine, and the safe harbour lost, a life less entwined.
Come sailor, I’m calling. Come sailor, I await.
Sail the strong wind, sail the swift wave. Come listen, come listen to me.
I sing the mermaid’s tune.
I sing the oldest song.
It is my lasting lullaby, my sweet gift to you.
As you die in my arms, and I feast on your bones.




© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved



Saturday, 17 December 2011

The Pages of War and Love: A Review of The Art of War: a Novel

My Book Review of The Art of War: a Novel by Angela Panayotopulos:


The Art of War: a Novel by Angela Panayotopulos is an extraordinarily compelling novel, written with an almost surreal style. It is a panoramic mosaic of vignettes erupting in shades of love, war and family

The novel is set on the small Greek island of Mythaki, over a period of years before and during WWII. We see events unfold mostly through the eyes of a brother and sister, Kalli and Gabe, first their idyllic simple island life and then the bitter and tragic transformations wrought by the war.

The author paints her canvas of words vividly, her backdrop of war palpable and stark. But it is her characters, the atmosphere and the small details that breathe a subtle and pulsating life into the book. It is a poignant, warm, amusing and sometimes brutal portrait of a piece of history frozen in time. I also like the unusual feel of the book, that the structure and ambience gives a slightly unreal touch to the story. I think it adds to both the portrayal of Greek island culture and the hollow reality of a warzone. By the end of the book I felt as if I knew both the island of Mythaki and its people personally.

I did notice that the author left a few characters dangling in oblivion, but in a way it also reflected the unpredictability of warfare, so I didn’t find it distracted excessively from the storyline. Overall I enjoyed this book immensely and highly recommend it.

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