Ioannides Census

1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 978-9963-2-5532-0
Verlag: Armida Publications
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 258 Seiten

A bold allegory of a contemporary nativity. The mountainous Cypriot village of Spilia, the Greek word for 'cave', provides the setting for the conception and 'birth' of a bodiless, unseen Christ spreading as miraculous energy to liberate, heal and transform anyone it touches.
Census is both a heretic allegory of the nativity and a cathartic retort to the satanic messages of Roman Polanski's renowned horror film Rosemary's Baby. Boasting repeated editions in Greece and Cyprus, this award-winning novel by Panos Ioannides, replete with magical realism, is riveting in terms of conception and execution: a sacred metaphysical thriller that redeems and purifies the reader. A masterpiece in the art of fiction and the recipient of the Cyprus National Prize for Literature, 1973.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Ioannides, Panos

Weitere Mitwirkende

Pirketti, Despina

Leseproben

2
  On Sunday she woke to a bright, white world.   And the sun that came out just for a bit, as the bells tolled for Doxology, was splintered into innumerable crystals.   After the apolysis of the divine liturgy and the commemoration of the dead, the snowfall resumed and carried on all day and until noon of the next.   The last bus arrived at Spilia on Monday afternoon, its only passengers being Miss Ioulia Michaelidou, Avgi’s replacement, three students attending the Solea High School and two workers of the Forestry Department.   One hour later, a second bus and Lefteris’ taxi, Lefteris being Father Stavros’ son-in-law, had had to drive back to Kakopetria when just a hundred meters beyond the curve to Spilia and Kourdali, they discovered that the rural gravel road had caved in, causing a serious risk of landslide.   Notified by the two fretted drivers, the police sergeant alerted Nicosia so that the relevant announcement be made on the radio. He also tried to contact the leaders of the adjacent villages, but the only available telephones, at the community offices and the forestry department, were dead.   He quickly loaded a few warning signs onto the jeep, and aided by his assistant, fitted the non-skid chains onto the car tires and drove on slowly, carefully checking the main road to Karvounas and Troodos, down to the curve to Spilia.   The road sign was totally covered in snow; they cleared it away and placed two additional signs – “X-Landslide” and “X-Risk of Subsidence” – where they could be easily seen, and a third warning sign fifty meters ahead, on the gravel road.   Within the fifteen minutes it took them to place the signs, three cars heading to Spilia had had to turn back; the first, a small two-door car driven by an intern lawyer at Serghides and Fardis Legal Office who, by his own word, was delivering an urgent message for “someone” in the village. The second, a red Lotus convertible. Its owner, a tanned young man, fittingly bundled up in his sports jacket and fur Kazakh cap, protested over the condition of the streets and, in response to the sergeant’s eager offer to help him, spat out a “thank you”, said he had a personal affair to tend to, and returned back to the main road to Nicosia, fountains of snow spurting out from behind and in front of his car tyres.   “Do you know who that was?” the lawyer smiled, not without envy. “His name is Marios Orphanos, the son of the well-known business magnate; a playboy”.   The third driver arrived just as the police jeep was setting out to return to the station. He was a bearded man in his seventies, driving a pre-war Ford, well-preserved on the outside, though its engine panted as if suffering from incurable asthma. A doctor from Nicosia, he had been summoned to Evrychou Hospital for an emergency and thought it a fine opportunity to visit a couple, friends of his, in Spilia.   “I’m afraid, as you may well see for yourself…” the sergeant explained. “Even with snow chains, I would advise against it”.   “When do you think the road will open?” the doctor asked, ominously scratching his beard.   “Who knows? It depends on the weather. We’ll make the announcement as soon as it’s been repaired”.   ***   For five days, until Friday, the snow kept piling up, with breaks of an hour or two over every 24 hour period. And the cold, during those breaks, was polar. Reparations on the street began as late as the middle of the second week.   In the meantime, no one had been able to leave the twin villages, nor had any of the Spilia residents managed to return to the village on foot, lodging instead in larger villages nearby.   The only exception was reported by three Telecommunications workers who’d been struggling for days to locate the damage to the phone line. From a distance, they saw an unknown man, wearing a fleece hood and a leather jacket, walking along the edge of the cliff. They called out to him, asked him where he was heading and if he needed any help; he waved something, probably uttered a greeting, but they heard nothing.   No, he was quite far from them, at the bottom of the valley, and they were working high up the hill, they couldn’t make out who he was.   “Was he going to the village?”   “No, he was coming down from there. Probably coming down”.   ***   “Dear members of the Committee! First of all I would like to thank you for responding to my invitation so eagerly. The reason I have convened this extraordinary meeting is that, as you very well know, God willing and weather permitting, our School is hopefully scheduled to open after the conclusion of this act of God, and a decision must be made on the matter set forth by Mr Demetriades during our previous meeting last Thursday. So, to cut a long story short, I will now read the minutes prepared by dear Kyros”.   Father Stavros put on his glasses.   “It has been suggested by the Chairman, the reverend Father Stavros Alexandrinos, that the Prayer of the Cyclamens be henceforth dedicated to the salvation of Mr and Ms Akritas. During the discussion that followed the suggestion, the following views were set forth: First, the Chairman underlined that, seeing as the principle of joint prayer has been successfully applied for years now, it must also be similarly applied to the case of the Akritases who, as the Chairman has personally observed, are in need of enlightenment and aid from above. ‘The daily prayer of the seven children squads will enfold them in a shield of faith and heal them of physical and mental pain’. The second view put forward by the Secretary, Mr Demetriades, was that if the aforementioned principle was to be applied to this particular case, then both the Committee and the institution would instigate the likely wrath of the couple in question, causing damage instead of producing a benefit, whilst exacerbating what they intended to heal”.   Father Stavros then addressed the other three members:   “So, madam and gentlemen, your views please”.   The Community President, the Church Board Officer and the recently appointed member, Avgi’s replacement, opted not to speak. They had already expressed their opinions during the first and second meetings convened to this end. The views of both the Chairman and the Secretary were equally strong and it was difficult to decide which one to adopt.   “Whatever you decide, reverend, we will sign”, the Community President replied to the Chairman’s second, more intense appeal, expressing the opinion of the other two members as well.   “If this is how you put it, then the case is closed”, Father Stavros said. “The President has the winning vote”.   “The majority of one”, Demetriades smiled, defeated, and added: “Allow me, in any case, to remind you of what I exhaustively set forth during our previous meeting, the profound discontent expressed the other day by Ms Akritas over the prayer of the cyclamens”.   “Excuse me, dear man”, Father Stavros interrupted him, “this is irrelevant and insubstantial. The reaction of our dear Maria, or of anyone else for that matter, should be of no concern to us. This is a matter of principle; it either applies to all or none. Of course, if you wish to request that the Committee Charter be changed, please feel free; provided that you submit your request in writing and well in advance”.   Kyros Demetriades did not answer. In the end, he had to confess to himself that the priest was right; it was and remained a matter of principle. And he was certainly ill prepared to raise such a question. Even if he did take the risk, the decision would only be made in a minimum of two or three weeks.   He bowed his head over his notes, sensing the priest’s pretentious hawk-like gaze...