Demons and the Devil: Moral Imagination in Modern Greek Culture 9781400884391

In present-day Greece many people still speak of exotikNB--mermaids, dog-form creatures, and other monstrous beings simi

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Table of contents :
Contents
List of Figures and Illustrations
A Note on Transliteration
Abbreviations
Preface
Introduction
PART ONE: Local Cosmology
CHAPTER ONE. Naxos: History, Demography, and Identity
CHAPTER Two. Traditions and Values in Apeiranthos
CHAPTER THREE. Cosmology and Morality
CHAPTER FOUR. Modernization and Rationality
PART Two: The Composition of the Exotika
CHAPTER FIVE. From Devil to Exotikd: Orthodox Tradition and Beyond
CHAPTER SIX. The Symbolism of the Exotikd
PART THREE: Rituals and the Demonic
CHAPTER SEVEN. Baptism: Of Holy Spirit and Evil Spirits
CHAPTER EIGHT. Exorcism: The Power of Names
CHAPTER NINE. Spells: On the Boundary between Church Practice and Sorcery
Conclusion
APPENDIX 1. A Glossary of ExotilaJ
APPENDIX 2. Xiropotamou 98
Notes
Bibliography
Index
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Demons and the Devil

PRINCETON MODERN GREEK STUDIES This series is sponsored by the Princeton University Program in Hellenic Studies under the auspices of the Stanley J. Seeger Hellenic Fund . . Firewalking and Religious Healing: The Anastenaria of Greece and the American Firewalking Movement by Loring M. Danforth Kazantzakis: Politics of the Spirit by Peter Bien George Seferis: Complete Poems translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard Dance and the Body Politic in Northern Greece by Jane K. Cowan Yannis Ritsos: Repetitions, Testimonies, Parentheses translated by Edmund Keeley Contested Identities: Gender and Kinship in Modern Greece edited by Peter Loizos and Evthytnios Papataxiarchis A Place in History: Social and Monumental Time in a Cretan Town by Michael Herzfeld Demons and the Devil: Mora/Imagination in Modem Greek Culture by Charles Stewart

Demons and the Devil MORAL IMAGINATION IN MODERN GREEK CULTURE

Charles Stewart

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS PRINCE TON, NEW JERSEY

Copyright© 1991 by Princeton University Press Published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street, Princeton, New Jersey 08540 In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, Oxford All Rights Reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Stewart, Charles, 1956Demons and the Devil : moral imagination in modern Greek culture I Charles Stewart. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Demonology--Greece. 2. Demonology--Greece--Naxos. 3. Orthodox Eastern Church--Greece--Doctrines. 4. Greece--Religious life and customs. 5. Naxos (Greece)--Religious life and customs. I. Title. BT98l.S74 1991 306.6'91216'09499-dc20 91-6543 ISBN 0-691-09446-2 (alk. paper) ISBN 0-691-02848-6 (pbk. : alk. paper) Publication of this book has been aided by the Princeton University Program in Hellenic Studies under the auspices of the Stanley I. Seeger Hellenic Fund This book has been composed in Linotron Times Roman Princeton University Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources Printed in the United States of America by Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey 10 9 10 9 (Pbk.)

8 8

7 7

6 6

5 4 3 2 5

4

3

2

1

TO HELEN

EAENH:

Oux fjl..8ov £s yijv TQq>M', ill' Etbwl..ov fiv.

AITEAO~:

HELEN:

TL ns; NEEA'IJS aQ' al..l..ws ELX.OIJ.EV ~6vous ~EQL;

I never went to Troy; it was a simulacrum.

MESSENGER: What are you saying? Did we come to such grief just for a cloud? -Euripides, apud Seferis

Contents

List of Figures and Illustrations

ix

A Note on Transliteration

xi xiii

Abbreviations Preface

XV

3

Introduction PART ONE:

Local Cosmology

CHAPTER ONE

Naxos: History, Demography, and Identity

19

Two Traditions and Values in Apeiranthos

43

CHAPTER

CHAPTER THREE

Cosmology and Morality

76

CHAPTER FOUR

Modernization and Rationality PART

116

Two: The Composition of the Exotika

CHAPTER FIVE

From Devil to Exotikd: Orthodox Tradition and Beyond

137

CHAPTER SIX

The Symbolism of the Exotikd PART THREE:

162

Rituals and the Demonic

CHAPTER SEVEN

Baptism: Of Holy Spirit and Evil Spirits

195

CHAPTER EIGHT

Exorcism: The Power of Names

211

CHAPTER NINE

Spells: On the Boundary between Church Practice and Sorcery

222

Conclusion

244

viii

Contents

APPENDIX 1 A Glossary of ExotilaJ

251

2 Xiropotamou 98

255

Notes

261

Bibliography

295

Index

323

APPENDIX

List of Figures and Illustrations

Photographs are by Charles Stewart unless otherwise noted.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29.

MapofNaxos The division of Naxos into communal districts Villages on either side of the mountains/plains divide The chapel of St. Pakh6mios near Tsikalari6 The best scarecrow proves to be a dead crow Apefranthos against the backdrop of Mt. Phamiri The drama of carnival in Apefranthos A village grave Making "female cheese" Only males may ring the church bells "Jehovah's Witnesses Out!" A typical roadside shrine An elaborate marble shrine Devotions suspended beneath an icon of St. Nektarios Cosmological drawing (on a cigarette box) by a young man from Apefranthos A cosmopolitan artist's depiction of the "Picasso-nosed female kallikdntzaros'' Christ exorcising the Gerasene demoniacs The heavenly ladder of St. John Climacos Fresco by Pag6nis, "The Wily Confessions of Christians" St. Christopher, the Dog-Headed A gorgona on the wall of a seaside restaurant Icon of the Panagia Gorg6na Mediatory supernatural powers viewed from the perspective of the microcosm The spatial distribution of the exotikd The table of the Beauty of the Mountains from an eighteenthor nineteenth-century manuscript The exotikd and the lifecycle Daoutis, the shadowy one, an exotiko that attacks animals The goat-footed kallikdntzaros urinating on a tray of Christmas sweets Fresco by Pag6nis, "It is the Devil who adorns those who love diabolical metamorphosis''

20 21 23 33 39 43 44 54 67 72

79 85 86 94 114 133 142 145 147 155 158 159 161 165 171 174 184 185 186

x

30. 31. 32. 33.

· List of Figures and Illustrations

Divining by bowl (lekanomandefa) from an eighteenth- or nineteenth-century manuscript 242 247 Jumping over bonfires on the feast day of St. John Fresco. Kynops the Sorcerer commands demons to attack St. John 254 The Hebraic structure and the Hellenistic Greek content of Orthodox Christian cosmology 275

A Note on Transliteration

of transliteration used in this book represents a compromise between the phonology and orthography of modern Greek suited to the present analysis that treats both written and spoken forms of the language. With the exception of the digraph oi, pronunciation following conventions of standard English will yield a reasonable approximation of the sound of modern Greek. Stress accents are noted on all transliterated words, including personal names. Standard anglicized forms are used for certain well-known personal and placenames (i.e., Athens not Athfna). Only passages longer than a few words are cited in the Greek alphabet in the text, whereas in the notes I have made more extensive use of the Greek script. Post-1821 sources are presented in the monotonic accent system, while the polytonic system is retained for earlier sources, including scriptural and liturgical texts.

THE SYSTEM

Aa

a

Bf3

V

ry

A~ EE

z~

HTJ

ee

IL

Kx AA M!J.

g d e z i th i k m

Nv

s;

au, eu EL OL

ou

X

Oo

0

lln PQ l:o Tt

p r s t

Yu

ct>cp

y

'1''\jl

ph kh ps

Qw

0

xx

DIGRAPHS QL

n

ai (pronounced as in "raid") af, ef (before unvoiced consonants) av, ev (before voiced phonemes) ei (pronounced as in "receive") oi (pronounced [i] as in "machine") ou (pronounced as in "soup")

Transliteration CONSONANT CLUSTERS

Note on

xii ·

g (initial), ng (medial) b (initial), rob (medial) d (initial), nd (medial)

Abbreviations

Andri6tis

Chantraine Du Cange

EvkholOgion Mega GerondikO

KL

MPG MPL NM NO

OED Peristatika{ Pidalion

Profas

EwtwA.oytx6 A.E!;tx6 'tTJ~ xot""~ EU11vtxt1~ (Greek Etymological Dictionary), N. ll. AvbQtcO'tTJ~, Thessaloniki, 1983. Dictionnaire etymologique de la langue grecque, ed. Pierre Chantraine, Paris, 1968--77.

Glossarium ad scriptores mediae et infimae Graecitatis, eds. C. Du Fresne and D. Du Cange, Lugduni, 1688 (repr. Graz, 1958). EuxoA.6ywv 'to Mtya (The Large Prayerbook), Athens: Astir, 1980 (based on 2d ed., Venice, 1862). rEQOV'ttX6 'tOU Ay(ou 'OQOU~ (Monk's Almanac), by Movax6~ AytOQEL'tTJ~ AvbQEa~ (with XaQt'U..aJ.1.3to~ 8Eo..L xat j.LOU 1:6 ':rt7JQE the evil bird, and took them. And no person was found Kat 6£V £UQE67Jv av6Q001COS baptized, fla:rt'tLOj.LEvOS, Dependable chrisrnated surrendered over to God, 'tOU 9£01i :rtaQaOOfl.Evo,;, VU j.LOU XCtj.L7J X6XXLVO g)..rlJvo, to make me a red thread :rcou 6£ 600Q£( ecu..aooa. which does not see the ocean. I bind, I bind and I unbind .'tl]c; l'tEQUCJE CJ'tl]V cj>uAaxt] 1:ov llfJaAav, ME'(aAoc; xMcj>'tT]c; l'tEQUCJE l'tOMa 'XUl'tEAU 'tOll tfJyaAUV.

A goat rustler passed by; they threw him in jail. A big thief passed by; everyone doffed their caps. -Village proverb

PHYSICAL ISOLATION AND SOCIAL DIFFERENCE

The village of Apeiranthos nestles on an eastern foothill of Mt. Phamiri, two thousand feet above sea level. A high ridge rises behind the village to the west, blocking out the sun surprisingly early in the afternoon so that Apefranthos wears a dark, somber aspect much of the time. This is especially true in winter when the chill northeastern winds, to which it is fully exposed, blow down the

6. Apeiranthos against the backdrop of Mt. Phamrri. In the foreground stands the church and to its left the elementary school.

44

• Chapter Two

flagstone alleyways and howl in the vaulted passages. Sounds were the first thing I noticed when I approached the village at the beginning of Lent to begin my stay there-the sound of the wind and the sound of sheep bells being sounded by men who had strapped them around their waists for the carnival celebration. In the winter period such of the population as have remained (approximately 850) spend as much time as possible indoors, either at one of the four coffee houses or at home, as near to a hearth fire or wood-burning stove as possible. Many of the four or five thousand Aperathites who reside in Athens or elsewhere are hardly familiar with the winter character of the village. They only know it in summer. This is a much more pleasant season that effectively begins at Easter-when families come from Athens to celebrate-and continues until late September. Summer is punctuated by numerous feast days, notably the Assumption of the Virgin (August 15) and the Beheading of John the Baptist (August 29), the main village celebration. During this time the winter population may be increased three- or even fourfold, not only by Athenian Aperathites, but by others who have returned from as far away as Canada. My own interest in Apeiranthos began some years before field research when I stayed in the neighboring village of Phil6ti. In response to my questions about certain customs or linguistic features, the people of Phil6ti often mentioned that Apeiranthos was the place to visit in order to grasp Naxiote

7 . The drama of carnival at the beginning of Lent in the main square of Apeiranthos.

Apefranthos

• 45

tradition in its purest form. I was told of a remarkable dialect with peculiar words and grammatical forms bearing no resemblance to any other dialect on the island. When I prepared to make my first visit there, people further advised that I carefully count my change after any transactions and that I not enter into any deals with the Aperathites because they were a pack of wily thieves. Eventually I came to see that this was not just a local prejudice on the part of the Philotftes, but an impression shared over the whole island. This conception of Apeiranthos is strikingly similar to the one heard and recorded by the English traveler, Theodore Bent, on his arrival at Kh6ra in the 1880s: Everywhere in Naxos, they have a bad word for the people of Apeiranthos; a village of robbers, we were told it was, away in the mountains: It was to be our next halting place after leaving Philoti, so we were concerned at all the evil reports we had heard; for, say they, a man of Apeiranthos is clever enough to steal the sole off your boot, or the hat off your head, without your knowing it; and the facetious Naxiotes tell an ill-natured legend about these people with great gusto, namely, that Apeiranthos was a Cretan colony; that Barabbas was a Cretan; and that after his delivery from prison he returned home, where he behaved so badly that the Cretans drove him away: so he came to Naxos and founded the colony of Apeiranthos. (1885: 353)

During the period I was resident in Apeiranthos, the inhabitants of Kh6ra and other distant villages often expressed astonishment that I should want to spend any length of time in such a God-forsaken, difficult village. They would look me up and down and ask, with a mixture of amazement and concern, "What did you get mixed up in?" The Aperathites do not in the least contest their image as an exclusive community; indeed they consider their social uniqueness to be part of their heritage. A settlement called Aperato is first mentioned in an account of the island by Buondelmonti who visited around 1410 (Buondelmonti 1897), but several Byzantine churches in the area suggest there may have been a settlement hundreds of years earlier near the present village site. Much speculation revolves around the etymology of the name ''Apeiranthos'' and villagers are familiar with several foundation legends. The most popular version relates that the village was originally located along the eastern coast of the island where the hamlet of Moutso6na stands today. To escape persistent pirate raids the people gathered their belongings and moved to the foot of Mt. Phanari, where they founded the village. As they were no longer disturbed (peirazo, "molest, bother") by pirates, they named the village Apeirakhtos (lit. "undisturbed") and this changed over time to Apeiranthos. An alternative derivation flatters the beauty of the village, deriving the name from the profusion of flowers in the area (apeira anthi, "infinite flowers"). There are also other more prosaic legends, such as the one that derives the village's name from the name of an early mayor (Katsour6s 1984). None of these hypotheses may be finally proved on linguistic or historical grounds, but the predilection for the first

46

• Chapter Two

alternative already says much about the ideology of isolation that remains important among the inhabitants of the village today. According to an anonymous historical manuscript dated to the early nineteenth century, the first inhabitants of Apei'ranthos came from the village of pYranthos in the region of Gortyn in western Crete. They were expelled for thieving. Upon their arrival at Kh6ra the locals were so afraid of being robbed that they settled them in ''a very remote part of the island'' and posted sentries in the mountains around this valley to keep them in their place (Kephallinhidis 1985: 18). While it is true that Cretan refugees did settle on Naxos from the seventeenth century onward, a period of strife and repeated rebellion on Crete, it is not at all certain that they came in large enough numbers to influence local culture in Naxiote villages like Apei'ranthos, which were already settled. The assertion of a Cretan origin is at best putative, yet it is one of the first statements one is likely to hear from the Aperathftes themselves as a reason for their linguistic and cultural differences from the other villages on Naxos. Specifically, the Aperathftes claim to be from An6gia and Sphakhi, two villages famed throughout Greece as centers of heroic revolt during the period of Turkish dominion on Crete. An6gia is also renowned for its role in the resistance against the German occupying force during the Second World War. The Germans burned down the village as retribution for this heroic activity. It is slightly suspect then, that these two-and only these two-places should be mentioned by the Aperathftes when they speak of their Cretan heritage. The principle at work seems to be that a people of such honor as theirs must have outstandingly heroic origins. In direct conversation, the Aperathftes substantiate their own claims to valor by reference to this Cretan heritage. This tradition then bifurcates. While their courage and strong sense of liberty stem from a relation to Cretan resistance fighters, their developed sense of cunning and their competence in thievery derive from Cretan ancestors who were themselves thieves and who fled their native island to escape punishment. These different stories emphasize the fact of difference, both for the Aperathftes themselves as well as for the other inhabitants of Naxos. The insistence on this separateness into the present reflects a communal will, a shared conviction of superiority and difference. The Aperathftes say that you have to be intelligent to speak their dialect, Aperathftika, and this claim irritates Naxiotes from other villages. 1 Apefranthos is also more rigorously endogamous than any other community on the island. At the time of my stay, there were only five women and one man from other villages who had married into Apei'ranthos and who actually resided there. 2 It is always remembered that these spouses who marry in are not native Aperathftes, but they are treated and considered for all practical purposes as members of the community, not as strangers (xenoi). The only real outsider living in the village was the doctor, who

Apeiranthos

· 47

came from northern Greece. He was later replaced by a doctor from Kh6ra. In former times there were government officials resident in the village to oversee the emery mines, and until recently there was a police detachment (now relocated in Phil6ti). Schoolteachers used to come from outside the community, but in recent years the teaching has been done by local teachers either from the village or from the nearby villages of Phil6ti and K6ronos. The community of Apeiranthos thus has a firm conception of itself in contradistinction to an outside world inhabited by ''strangers.'' There is no hotel in the village and it is virtually impossible to secure a room even for one night. There are three or four small restaurants that serve food but they do this mainly in the evening-which means solely for those resident in the village. Foreigners who pass through in the afternoon may find nothing to eat or drink. At times the opinion has been voiced that this situation is an embarrassment for the village, which should offer some services and facilities, but this is countered by an even stronger voice that opposes the presence of foreigners in the village altogether. Individuals who have proposed opening small hotels or restaurants that would cater to foreigners have been blocked and discouraged from doing so. The prevailing opinion is that the village never had foreigners and does not want them now. The village should stay the way it has always been. To serve foreigners and to give them lodging is to give them free rein in the village. People feel that eventually they would be exploited and the situation would amount to servitude (sklavia). These opinions are all held at a time when there is less and less work in the village and the population is dwindling. The government is prepared to grant loans on favorable terms for the development of hotels and tourist facilities, but the Aperathites have yet to take advantage of the offer. Many young men and women complain bitterly about the conservatism of the village. In spite of the lack of hotels and notwithstanding the reputation of its inhabitants as thieves, Apeiranthos is conceded, by Naxiotes in general, to be an extremely hospitable village. This defeats common sense, especially when one considers the regularly held opinion, found throughout Greece, that one's own village is the only hospitable village and that no other settlement, no matter how similar or near, can possibly measure up. The case of Apeiranthos reveals an important principle underlying hospitality. In order for someone to be granted hospitality, they must first be recognized as a stranger. The more deeply they are felt to be foreign-a designation that hinges on how isolated a community is and how sharply it conceives its boundaries--the more necessary it is to offer hospitality. Xenophobia and hospitality (xenophovia and philoxenia) are two sides of the same coin (Herzfeld 1987b). To treat a person elaborately and lavishly as a guest is to deny a relationship of equality and to draw attention to this person's constrained dependence on the community. These two aspects are juxtaposed in the history of the Greek word xenos,

48

• Chapter Two

which once meant "guest" (most modem Greek dictionaries still give this definition) but now means primarily "stranger, foreigner." The need to offer hospitality diminishes only as the distinctions between self and other dissolve. Apefranthos is an outstandingly hospitable village precisely because it is an especially closed community. On my first visit to Apefranthos, some years before I began field research there, I entered the coffee house completely unknown, drank two glasses of raki (a local distillation of the grape skins and stems left after the wine pressing, similar to grappa), talked a little with the old men who were there, and got up to pay. Without my noticing, a man in the corner whom I had not even addressed had already paid for me. The Aperathites continued to treat me long into my stay, and when I demanded to treat them in return they replied that this would have to wait until I married into the village. As far as I could observe, foreigners were rarely allowed to pay for themselves in the coffee house. Whenever a group from the village went for a meal in a tavema, it was tacitly understood that all men in this group would share the cost of whatever any outsiders in their company consumed. The only exceptions were nonGreek foreigners who came in the summer, and this was mainly because the villagers knew that several would pass through every day and that it was alright to let them spend some money. They had an idea of what tourism was about. There exists no defined etiquette in the village for introducing people. This is because everyone who belongs to the community is known from the moment of his or her birth. Only foreigners need to be introduced, but the contact with such strangers is so sporadic that no ritual of introduction has come into existence. When a foreigner appears in the company of a eo-villager, people will approach the eo-villager, often in the presence of the foreigner, and demand to know who that person is. If the foreigner is alone, each villager will compare notes with others who have had the slightest interchange with the visitor. Strangers thus very rapidly have oral traditions-often very inaccurate ones based on suspicions and local expectations or prejudices-spun around them. When it became clear that I was actually residing in the village and not leaving, people assumed that I was either working for the CIA or else engaged in antique smuggling. Why else would someone stay in Apefranthos? Such perceptions are related to the fear that foreigners will try to exploit the village in some way. Even today, tourism is viewed by some as analogous to a (military) occupation (katokh(). The villagers' uirrelenting goal is autonomy: political, economic, and cultural. This is threatened by all outsiders, even by the central Greek government that, through its agencies such as the police and the tax collector, attempts to regulate activities in the village. There is an established procedure by which the local government may request funds or other support from the departmental administration on Syros. Petitions are made through the provin-

Apeiranthos

• 49

cial representatives on Naxos who process and forward the requests of the various communities. Quite often the mayor will circumvent this route and enlist eo-villagers who hold high political positions in Athens to propose certain issues and apply pressure directly on the prefect. No one has any illusions as to fair procedure. The village must depend on its own resources. Mayors of Apefranthos always attempt to raise funds on their own from those in the village as well as those in Athens. One past mayor even traveled to the United States and Canada to raise funds among emigre Aperathites for projects in the village. On a cultural level the village asserts its autonomous identity through a quasi-political "association" (sfllogos) that sponsors dances, athletic events, outings, and generally attempts to preserve, if not glorify, village traditions. Amid growing complaints that the village's musical tradition was being pilfered and commercially exploited by major pop artists who recorded Apefranthos songs without acknowledging their provenance, the association issued its own LP played by musicians from the village. According to one spokesperson, ''We had to do it to show that these songs belong to Apefranthos. That way they won't be able to steal any more." In this statement, as in so many others referring to actions that preempt exploitation from without, the pronoun "we" (emefs) resounds emphatically. WOMEN AND HOUSES

Belonging to a house is a prerequisite of membership in the community. Houses also furnish a great incentive to marry endogamously. The bride almost invariably provides one as part of her dowry. Without a house to offer it would be difficult for a woman to contract a marriage. For men who plan to reside in the village, a house is viewed as an indispensible basis for a stable married life. Unless he is wealthy or an only child and thus heir to a house himself, he can ill-afford the expense of rent as he starts married life. One young man, who was actually divorced from his wife, recited the following piece of wisdom: "The woman is like a cornerstone. If the stone is good it will support a castle. If it is not, do not even build a shack because you will soon be rootless. " 3 Women are houses. This is where females spend the majority of their time--cleaning, cooking, looking after children, and in former times more so than today, weaving, knitting, and embroidering the linens, curtains, and tablecloths that form the rest of their dowry. Besides the furnishings for the house a bride may contribute some cash (on the order of $750 for village marriages) as well as a few animals (goats, sheep, and hens) that are considered as domestic (oikOsita) rather than as part of the herd (kopadiarika). This parallels the woman's designation, for in village records reporting more than two hundred marriages, the women in all but five cases were classed as housewives (oikiakon, "concerned with domestic affairs"). The five exceptions were all

50

• Chapter Two

either teachers or students. Generally it could be said that the woman provides a secure containing space that the groom then enters and sustains with his labor beyond the confines of the home. The following excerpt from a ten-year-old schoolgirl's essay well expresses this sense of safe enclosure: For me, the dearest corner of the world is our house. I was born there and there I grew up. There I heard the first beautiful fairy tales told by my grandmother. In its courtyard I played my first games. For all those reasons, I love our house very much and when I leave it I long for it and I hurry to return to its warm embrace. (Eirini Bardani, age 10, T'Ap, March 1986)

Even the roughest of men, the shepherds who reside for most of the year in small stone houses several hours' walk from the village, display a sensitivity to the shelter and comfort that marriage can bring. The following distich (katsaki) was sung by a husband to his wife at a sentimental moment, recalling the time when the couple was betrothed and the man stayed the night at his fiancee's house: Do you remember when I slept on your sofa, And you pulled out and covered me with your woven blankets? Elu~taoat :n:ou xm!t6140uva a:n:avw O'to ooa aa,;

Km tf3ya~E>; xm !4E ; 14'6A.a 'ta :n:aTIJ'ta oa,;;

The woven dowry blankets withdrawn from an inner space are, for the man, a taste of what he will enjoy in marriage. The husband's only obligation, as far as home furnishings are concerned, is to supply the marriage bed. He chiefly brings productive potential to the union and he should not attempt marriage until he has established a profession or is in a position to inherit a sufficient flock or piece of land to sustain his wife and future children. 4 Women continue to own houses after marriage, for dowry wealth, especially property, is inalienable. Ideally the first daughter inherits her mother's house, but in cases where there are many siblings there may be no space for a first daughter and her husband. It would be too much trouble for the larger family to vacate the house in their favor. An extension may be added or, as is often the rule nowadays, a new house is built on land that may or may not be near the bride's natal home. Houses are in any case strongly associated with the mother's kindred. If there are no daughters to inherit a house, it will go to a son who is named after the mother's father. After marriage the bride's family enjoys a closer association with the new household than the groom's. In particular it is the bride's mother's responsibility to help arrange and organize the kitchen and it is now that she will teach her daughter how to cook if she has not already done so. The preparation of food is the point at which households divide (Hirschon 1983b; 1989: 64), but

Apeiranthos · 51 members of the bride's natal family will often be present for meals. The bride is responsible for the daily running of the household. Her written consent is required before her house can be sold. Women also see to the purity and sanctity of the house. They are responsible for keeping track of the numerous feast days and fasting periods in the Orthodox calendar and for preparing the proper foods at these times. Through such actions the house mistress (noikokyra; see Salamone and Stanton 1986; Salamone 1987) cares for and founds the ritual purity of all family members. The household icons are also the woman's domain. Some of these she may inherit from her mother while others are purchased, usually in Athens or while on pilgrimage. One woman told of a cheap icon she bought from a vendor. When she put it in her icon stand at home it began to shake. This went on for two days, at the end of which she found the icon beneath a bed. According to her, the other icons (which had come from Mt. Athos) had expelled the unchurched (asarandistl) icon. She had forgotten to take it to the village church and leave it for forty days behind the icon screen. Icons are a focus of the family's spiritual life; they mystically join the family together. A man who lost three sisters related that when each one died he heard the icons in his house knock and fall to the ground. When I remarked how low attendance was at the village church and expressed some doubt as to the general level of religiosity in the village, one woman responded, motioning toward the icon stand in her sitting room, that people may not frequent the church but they have religion at home. "We light candles, cense the house, and venerate the icons. Also we celebrate weddings and festivals." On Epiphany every year (January 6) the priest makes a round of all the houses in the village and sprinkles each one three times with holy water. The women wait for his visit and make a contribution for this service (this used to be one of the priests' chief means of support before they were given a state salary in the late 1960s). This sprinkling with holy water (agiasmos) is said to bless and purify the house and its members and specifically to chase away demons such as the kallikdntzaroi that cause pollution during the twelve days of Christmas. It may be understood as a form of exorcism. Thereafter the woman may take holy water from the church on the first of every month and sprinkle the icons in her house with it as well as drink from it three times, wishing those present "good month." This complements her washing and cleaning that establish the physical purity of the space in which the family lives and the clothes that family members wear. When a man is widowed both his appearance and the condition of his house visibly deteriorate unless he has a daughter or daughter-in-law to care for him. Male spaces such as the coffee house or shepherds' dwellings in the countryside are characteristically filthy. Men simply are not domestic and it is not expected that they should be. The only occasion on which men cook food is if

52 · Chapter Two they are grilling meat out of doors on an open fire. They have nothing to do with cooking that involves oils and sauces and the use of large pots. Men are associated with the outside of the house, women with the inside. I once heard young men teasing a newly married friend who seemed to be spending too much time at home; they said that his wife had "closed him in the saucepan" (ton ekleise stin katsarola).

In spite of the manifestly feminine associations of houses, people refer to the structure where they were born and reared as their paternal home (patrikO spftl). Similarly, depending on the context, they refer both to the island of Naxos and Greece generally as their fatherland (patrfda). One's village is sometimes called the "small fatherland" (mikrf patrfda). Such designations point up the tendency to favor the father's ascendants over the mother's, men over women. Many houses are entered through strong iron gates on which the father's initials are figured. He is the undisputed head of the family, an idea expressed in the Orthodox wedding ceremony. He is frequently referrred to, both by his wife and children, as the aphendis, "master." A close cognate of this word, aphendikO, means "owner" or "boss" in commercial contexts. Emigres who have spent long periods abroad set about renovating their houses in the village the moment they have earned enough money-even though they may only visit the village for a few weeks a year. In so doing they restate their claim to full membership in the community. There are close to seven hundred houses in the village, more than fifty of which are derelict. Six hundred pay taxes to the community office, but only half of these are occupied year round. This surplus of houses is typical of Greece generally. In the case of Apefranthos, this excess is due both to emigration and to the custom of dowry. Underlying the practice of furnishing a dowry house is the conviction that every nuclear family should begin by occupying its own house. This is the couple's own domain over which they preside as master and mistress and within which they may begin to carry out their duties of creation and procreation unmolested. This house is furthermore a stake in the community. People are loath to sell houses or even to rent them out. Because of the deep personal associations with houses as places where one was born, or where various relatives died, people are very reluctant to allow strangers to live in them, and this includes unrelated villagers. I was very fortunate to find lodging during my stay in a carpenter's workshop. Houses embody spirit; they connect the living with the dead. Nowhere is this clearer than at the circulation (gyro) of the icons on Easter Sunday. This ceremony is the obverse of the rites performed at Epiphany; it blesses the deceased instead of the living. The community's icons are lifted from their position on the church iconostasis and transported around the village in a circular, counterclockwise motion. It is said that this practice, which is performed at one or two other times during the year, sanctifies (agiazei) the village. People line the route of the procession, standing before their houses with

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incense burning and small denomination banknotes ready to give as a donation to the church. Some, usually older women, stop the priest and ask him to recite a prayer for their family deceased. The priest is handed a slip of paper with just the Christian names written upon it and he reads these off and says a brief prayer. At the end of the procession the icons are returned to the church and those of the congregation who so wish proceed to the graveyard and stand beside the grave where their own deceased are buried. The priest then "circulates" among the family tombs just as he made the round of the houses in the village. It is fitting on Easter Sunday, the moment of Christ's conquest of death, a victory that paved the way for the eventual salvation of Christian humanity, that the village dead should be commemorated and prayed for on their passage to heaven. There are certain correspondences between family houses and family tombs. Beds are arranged at home so that people sleep with their head to the east, the same orientation as that of the corpse in the grave. Many graves bear the ancient word for "house" (OIKOl:), and the graveyard could be said to represent the village in microcosm. Immediately after someone dies, their soul is thought to wander the earth for a period of forty days, frequenting the places and people that it loved in its lifetime. This means particularly the house, and many people report visions of their recently deceased returning in dreams or visions. On the night when a young man died in a motorcycle accident in Athens, even before the news reached his parents in Phi16ti, they had a vision of him standing on the roof of their house. A woman for whom he had repaired some cabinets heard them opening and closing in the night. In the room where a person has died, an oil lamp is left burning constantly for three days to illuminate the soul's path, and doors and shutters are left open as much as possible so that it may enter and depart as it pleases. It is not until the fortieth day that the soul comes to rest. The grave becomes the home of the deceased and in Apefranthos, where exhumation is not a prominent practice, it is called the eternal house (pandotin6 spitz). Women come here to care for the grave, to water it and light the oil candle that stands before an icon or picture of the deceased, much as she cleans the house and lights the candles before the family icons. Photographs and pictures have come to possess a peculiar force, close to that of icons. When a person suffers for a protracted period of time before dying, it is said that this may be caused by the absence of a close relative, which impedes the soul's leaving. In such cases a picture of this absent relative is placed on the chest of the person to bring easy death. Photographs of the deceased mounted behind glass cases on graves are reminiscent of the family sitting room, where portraits of deceased family members are also on display. One lives as part of a family and continues after death to belong to this family (Danforth 1982: 13033).

8. A village grave. Censers and oil lamps create sanctity, while cleaning fluids preserve the purity of the eternal home. The plaque reads: "All our love always with you. Your wife, your children, your grandchildren.''

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NAMES, INDIVIDUATION, AND ESCHATOLOGY

Names, like houses, link an individual with a nuclear family, a larger lineage, and the community. All these associations are not conferred at once but become explicit in the course of time as the individual matures. In the period between birth and baptism a child bears no proper name; it is inauspicious to call it by its eventual Christian name, even though this is usually known. Babies in this state may be called drdkoi, "dragons, snakes," a designation that associates them with animals, the supernatural, or even the Devil instead of with humanity (Alexak:is 1985). This apotropaic expression is said to promote the strength and good health of the baby, but it also draws attention to the marginal and not fully human status that such infants possess. If a child dies before baptism its soul may be claimed by the Devil or undergo a long, wandering journey during which it may reappear on earth to close relatives or even to the priest who neglected to baptize it. Other expressions for unbaptized infants are moro, ''baby,'' a neuter noun, or else bebis in the case of males and beba in the case of females. Terms for newborn children thus present them as barely incorporated into humanity, as neuter beings or else distinguished only by gender-male-being or femalebeing. From this undifferentiated state the child is subsequently individualized and given a specific Christian and personal identity. Baptism is the portal through which humanity is entered. At this rite the child is forcibly separated from the realm of the demonic by means of a series of exorcisms that expel any malevolent spirits lingering in or around its person. It is further purified by immersion in water and then "sealed" like an inviolable container filled with the Holy Spirit (see Chapter 7). The child is now given a Christian name that, in most cases, is shared with one of the saints recognized in the Orthodox tradition. With the exception of a few who are given illustrious classical names (i.e., Periklfs = Pericles), people receive the names of those whose images may be depicted on icons. Just as the ineffable formlessness of divinity makes God an unsuitable subject for iconographic representation, so no human names can be based on his. To be sure, the Bible states that humans were created "in the image of God" (kat' eikona Theou), but this iconicity is generally understood as only a partial and refracted resemblance. In names, the light of heaven filters down to the human community through the prism of mediatory saints. It is prayed that this name will be inscribed in the Book of Life; it founds the possibility of salvation. In Apeiranthos the first son ideally receives the name of the paternal grandfather, the second son that of the maternal grandfather. The first daughter is named after the maternal grandmother, and the second after the paternal grandmother. This pattern correlates with certain dowry and inheritance practice as well as with notions of spirit and character transmission to be consid-

56 · Chapter Two ered below. Subsequent children may be given the name of a grandparent's sibling or that of a selected saint. All children bear the genitive form of their father's Christian name as their middle name. The father's surname is also their own-although for boys this family name is written in the nominative case, while for girls it is expressed in the genitive case. The implication is that females are ''of'' a particular family while males ''are'' the family. The naming pattern correlates with a number of principles and sentiments that are also discernible in practice. Kinship is reckoned bilaterally but with a slight bias toward the father's side (note the naming of the first son). Second cousins with different last names (i.e., with a uterine link) are allowed to marry much more easily than if they share the same surname. When asked to define the term soi", people agreed that this referred to one's (ascending) relatives, both through the father and through the mother-one's cognatic kindred. In common usage, however, the term soi" refers mainly to the father's side. If one wishes to refer to the mother's side one says specifically, "the mother's kindred" (to soi"tis mtinas). The father's kindred is-in terms coined by the Prague School of linguistics-unmarked and generalized while the mother's kindred is marked and must be referred to explicitly. At times soi" may refer to all those sharing the same surname. As it excludes the mother's side, this is a narrower definition, but it may be a much wider designation if a great many villagers happen to share a certain surname. In some moments villagers seemed to imply that all those sharing a given family name were related, or at least shared certain characteristics (such as political party preference). In other contexts, when asked if all people named Glezos (a common family name) were related to each other, villagers answered flatly no. No one can remember back far enough to establish an apical ancestor and in some cases they seem to be quite certain that there never was one. Generally speaking people know very little about ancestors more than two generations ascendant. The availability of cameras and thus snapshots of relatives is beginning to change that. Personal names that are shared with a saint and an ancestor are held to account for certain of the qualities and characteristics of the individual. No one denies that children inherit much from their parents, but this is little remarked. In the discussion of personality traits and family resemblances the primary point of comparison is with the homonymous grandparent. Explaining that children differ from their parents while taking after their grandparents, a woman from Phil6ti cited the proverb, "From the thorn comes the rose and from the rose the thorn" (Apo angathi rodo vgainei, kai apo rodo angathi vgainel). Successive generations differ, while alternating generations are similar. Even if there is no great physical similarity with a grandparent, subtle traits such as posture or gait are singled out as particular inheritances. Other features may be general to the soi" such as, in one case, the aversion to eating liver. Once two particular women were pointed out, an aunt and her

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niece (ZD) who were claimed to share a loud-mouthed, boisterous character that was rooted in their soi". When a strange illness or genetic defect cannot be accounted for by relation to any known relative, people might say ''fourteen generations'' (genies dekatesseres). They mean basically to say that this ill is somehow inherited, evidently from far-removed ancestors. I was assured that the number fourteen simply indicates remoteness as it does in the Gospel genealogies of Christ (e.g., Matt. 1:17). Names are essential for administrative purposes; a certificate of baptism is as good as a birth certificate in northern European countries. 5 Legal and ecclesiastical names both operate indexically (Herzfeld 1982b: 290). They align a person with groups and classes of beings determined by government and cosmic orders well beyond the village. Such names say little about the qualities of individual persons; they are low on connotative content. At the village level, formal names are hardly ever used for the indirect referential purposes for which bureaucracies seem to have designed them. Asking for someone by their proper name (Christian + family name) only baffles villagers because a number of people may share this name. They know and refer to each other by distinctive diminutive forms of the Christian name (there was only one Giorgadas, from the Christian name "Gi6rgos") or else by a variety of nicknames. Formal names do not have the referential force and accuracy of informal names. Knowledge of the wide variety of nicknames, indeed the possession of one or more such sobriquets oneself, forms a part of village identity. Nicknaming exhibits the same principle already revealed in the examination of how outsiders rapidly become the subject of gossip. In both cases, identity is apportioned according to collective opinion and may be considered a statement of village control (Kenny 1966: 88; Pina-Cabral1984). Many villagers assert that nicknames exist for ease of reference in a society with a limited pool of personal and family names. · Where baptismal names work according to a principle of indexicality, nicknames (paratsouklia) 6 metaphorically convey a greater degree of descriptive information about their bearers; they are "individualizing rather than classificatory" (McDowell 1981: 16). Usually these names are ironic, if not insulting, and people are not meant to be aware of their own nicknames. Use of the nickname in direct address is a form of affront. Nicknames are used mainly to refer to a person not present. Exceptions to this rule are those nicknames that simply append the surname to the Christian name: Phl6rios Glezos becomes Glezophl6rios and Iannis Galanis, Galanoiannis. The more insulting nicknames may exploit personality or physical peculiarities in an ironic fashion. One man with a megalomaniacal bent was called Onassis, while a young man who wore stylish clothes was called Markas (Brand). The carpenter with whom I lived drank a lot and tended to quarrel vehemently. He was called Agiakis (Little Saint). A tall, thin man was given the name Diphrangos (Two-Drachma Piece) because he switched from the

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traditional costume to wearing European-style clothing (called phrangika, "Frankish"). He was so tall that he did not just amount to a Frank (phrangos), but to a double Frank (di-phrangos). The conviction that more characteristics are present in the second generation descending brings joy to grandparents who know that when they go to the grave their name and something of their personality will continue to exist. The naming pattern, and the assertion of shared characteristics that accompany it, are often cited as a justification for the inheritance of objects or properties that belonged to the homonymous ancestor. People say that they work hard in order to establish or expand businesses or landholdings for their children. This is a felt necessity but an even greater satisfaction derives from knowing that they will later pass into the possession of grandchildren, who resemble and carry on the occupation after grandparents are dead. It is an idea that verges on metempsychosis. 7 The father of a young man who died while in the army bitterly lamented the fact that his son had not married; he had left nothing. He motioned to a photograph and to the son's uniform that was hanging in his coffee house and said, "If you don't leave anything, you don't count" (den ypolog(zesai). This is another reason why houses and landholdings are so infrequently sold. It is not thought to be the right of any one person to dispose of such objects that are suspended between past and future generations. Those holding them at any given moment are, in a sense, only tending them. A grandchild is said to "hear" a particular grandparent's name. Mari~ hears Maria1 's name all her life, even after Maria1 has gone to the grave, which assuredly will be before Maria3 (her granddaughter's granddaughter) is born. Maria3 will then be said to "hear" Maria2 's name and the original bearer of the name, Mariato will have been forgotten. The same naming system that resurrects one also, in time, consigns one to oblivion (Herzfeld 1982b: 292). It is true that names may be used to remember a person after death and even to assist the soul on its journey to heaven (Danforth 1982). On a number of Saturdays during the year, called "Soul Saturdays," relatives may ask the priest to read a prayer for their deceased by the family tomb, but they usually concentrate only on those who have died fairly recently; the others are considered ''gone.'' They have come to rest in a place near to God. Among the living they are no longer referred to by name, just as ''the forgiven.'' Each person is constituted at the intersection of inheritance and experience, a proposition summarized in the village proverb, "Everyone has what is his as well as what is ancestral'' (0 kathaenas ekhei to dikO dou kai to patroonikO dou; Zevg6li-Glezou 1963: 98). Christian names and surnames state the connection to a soi" while nicknames bestowed later in life are a recognition of uniqueness and a connection to the surrounding community of unrelated villagers. It is said that everyone has their own tastes (gousta), their own good humor (kephi), and their own idiosyncratic character (khoui). These are gained

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and demonstrated in the course of maturation and, according to some, they color a person even more strongly than inherited traits. This opinion points up the strong sense of individualism present in village thinking. When a person dies it is said that the soul departs with the first exhalation but the khour not until the third and final gasp. LABOR, POLITICS, AND THE VALUES OF MEN

Agropastoralism continues to play an important role in the life of the village even though the economy no longer depends on local production. If anything the community relies on infusions of cash sent by emigres working in Athens or abroad as well as pensions and government/EEC subventions. At Easter 1986 the total of pension payments and holiday bonuses delivered to the village amounted to close to $15,000 and in 1984 more than $30,000 in EEC funds were distributed to ninety-seven farmers, ostensibly to assist with improvements to their landholdings. The requirements for this disbursement were that the applicant be under sixty-five years of age and occupied full-time with the cultivation of at least twenty stremmata of land. The distribution was then made proportionately according to the amount of land and how productive a particular farmer was. The highest grant was for just over 100,000 drachmas (approximately $900) while the lowest was for 1,000 drachmas ($9). This gap indicates the disparity between serious farmers who work to produce a surplus to support themselves, and others who dabble in farming as a sort of hobby and whose production is merely a supplement to the family table (Zakhopoulou 1988a: 128). No doubt many who applied do not cultivate more than 20 stremmata but own this much in their own name and so managed by deception to secure a grant, even if a small one. It should be noted that the 97 farmers eventually funded were selected from 150 applicants. In other words, a lot of people were trying it on. The village secretary estimates that there are only 60 to 70 serious farmers in the village. On the village register the most commonly listed (male) occupation is "laborer" (ergatis, 188), a suitably vague designation adopted by those who engage in a number of activities, chief among which are farming, construction, and emery mining. Next in number were pensioners (141), then civil servants (85), and then shepherds (47). In addition there were a host of other professions practiced by a few men each: lorry drivers, bus drivers, shoemakers, shop/restaurant owners, and so on. 8 Today young men aspire to be educated and to join the civil service, if not to practice a profession such as civil engineer, lawyer, or teacher. Except to squeeze money out of the government or EEC, hardly anyone stresses their identity as a farmer or expresses any desire to continue working the land as a full-time occupation. Since the demise of emery mining, there exists no in-

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dustrial base in the village that can provide large-scale employment. Building projects, especially the renovation or construction of houses for returning emigrants, provide some work but this is mainly seasonal and unreliable. Some villagers own hotels or restaurants in Kh6ra or along the western coast of the island but the village and the eastern coast that belongs to it have yet to develop a significant tourist industry. The desire for education and salaried positions is shared by most parents even though this means that sons will not follow in their fathers' footsteps as agriculturalists. The important point about civil service posts is that they are permanent and the salary is guaranteed along with automatic pay rises. Beyond this, a large element of prestige is involved, and civil servants make desirable marriage partners. This situation implies that values held regarding employment are inconsistent with remaining in the village. Granted that it does not offer satisfactory prospects for work, the village is simply being abandoned. From a peak of 2,343 in 1940 the population has shrunk to less than 900 today. Surprisingly, statistics show that levels of agricultural production and the numbers of animals held in the area of the village have steadily risen over the past twenty years. This is attributable to intensive efforts on the part of a handful of agriculturalists. Still it must be said that almost every household, even those of civil servants, continues to keep a few chickens, goats, and sheep as well as to farm a small amount of land for its own consumption. In this respect, as in others, old values of autonomy and self-sufficiency are retained. The domestic mode of production has been superseded as a reality but some vestige of it remains as a value. It is not my intention to propose that agropastoralism is a more vital endeavor in the present than it actually is. Emery, education, and emigration have wrought deep changes in the village economy and way of life, yet much that is new, change itself, is seen and measured against older standards and ideals that are bound up with agricultural pursuits. It becomes important to understand agropastoralism and its attendant values. Chief among these ideals is autarky. A shepherd or farmer (agrotis, as they prefer to call themselves; the term for "shepherd," voskos, is considered too hick) must be independent (anexartitos). He may work his land and animals in cooperation with family members, and they may even rent most of their land from others, but it is essential that he not work directly for anyone else. He must be his own boss. These values are borne out by the small number of agrotes who belong to the cooperative run by the Agricultural Bank. The bank gives short-term loans at a 12 percent interest rate compared to the usual 13 percent. Only 34 agrotes took loans through the cooperative, while 169 preferred to remain independent. Apefranthos has the second largest communal district on the island (68,000 stremmata; see Figure 2), but the largest amount of privately owned land (52.1 percent; Matsuki 1979: 33). This value of autonomy surfaces in many other spheres of life, even among civil servants for

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whom autonomy is practically a contradiction in terms. Each man must be his own master, prepared to weather difficult situations by relying on his own resources. Another rule of existence is never to give out more information than is absolutely necessary, especially not to officials such as the field warden or representatives of the village office. A local historian from a nearby village related that once he was looking for a particular outlying chapel in the region of Apeiranthos. He asked a shepherd in the vicinity where it was. The shepherd merely shrugged his shoulders, claiming he had no idea. Eventually, after much coaxing, the shepherd was persuaded of the local scholar's benign intentions and gave the directions. The exact amount of land a man has under cultivation and the number of animals he pastures are his own business. He must be free to fabricate numbers up or down, depending on his interests. Most of the land worked by Aperathites and used for grazing lies more than an hour's walk, sometimes as much as five hours' walk, from the village. On this land most agrotes own rudimentary stone houses (mitata) in which they sometimes sleep and where they make and store cheese as well as equipment. These unpretentious structures, built by one's father or grandfather, as well as the plots of land, animals, and equipment, are an agriculturalist's inheritance and they contrast with the suburban-looking cement holiday homes that eovillagers have begun to build in the coastal area. Recently a dirt road has been opened from Moutsouna to the far end of the district at Panermos. This makes it easier for some to return to the village in the evening, but there are many who are not served by this road. In any event those engaged in serious animal husbandry are not free to leave their animals alone for more than a few hours. The countryside is a difficult area, impossible for the authorities to patrol or control. Furthermore, it is a male domain. In the countryside anything goes, and an agrotis must always be observant and have his wits about him. He must beware of his fellow man who might steal from him directly or by tricking him into a bad exchange. In situations of confrontation or danger he firmly stands his ground (den paei passo; an image from card playing, which emphasizes his "Devil may care" attitude) and is calm (psykhros), evincing no fear. The agrotis is also sensitive to the signs of nature. For the south wind alone he may know as many as six designations: levandes (E,SE), sorokos (SE), ostria (SE,S), notias (S), garbis (SW), and ponendes (SW,W). This detailed knowledge may help to predict the weather. For example, it is said that if a garbis or ponendes is blowing and the high clouds are moving to the east, that the levandes is pulling them and the next day a levandes will blow. If he wants to cut wood for building he should do this on or just after the full moon so that ''the moon will see the wood during the day.'' This prevents its rotting through infestation with woodworm. If he slaughters an animal and needs to store the meat, this should be left, preferably hanging, with a knife in it because that way it will not attract

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flies. Most of all he must be attentive to his flocks to know which sheep or goats are about to give birth in the lambing season and which lambs are worth keeping as part of the flock. Not unlike the village mayor, a serious agriculturalist must also have mesa-a homonym that felicitously covers two different words: "inside" and "means," that is, "contacts on the inside." 9 If he can find out in advance that the Agricultural Bank will take a high percentage of a certain type of yellow potato, then he must be sure to acquire the proper seeds so that he will not be laden with a surplus of white potatoes come harvest time. For all these reasons, an agrotis who prospers is said to be clever (exypnos); his mind is sharp (tou to kovel). It must be thus if he is capable of profiting in the face of nature and an outside world that are conceived to be over and against him. This image of the indefatigable and clever shepherd who is able to cover great distances both on foot and in his mind is a model and explanation for success in other spheres. Apefranthos has the highest acceptance rate to university and higher schools of any village in the Cyclades. At present there are no fewer than six native sons of the village serving as full professors at Greek universities and more than two hundred hold university degrees. People, including some of these very students and professors, attribute this success to an intelligence that they acquired from their humble parents and that was a general prerequisite for life in the village. Beyond cleverness, cunning (poniria) is another very strong requirement. There is only a shade of difference between cleverness and cunning, and in many cases the two labels may be applied interchangeably. A person who is cunning is able to size up a situation where his own interests are at stake and anticipate the reactions of others involved so as to achieve his ends. A story was related to me of shepherds who stole some cattle in the lowlands and walked them backwards up to the mountains so that anyone tracking them would be misled. This example of cunning greatly resembles Hermes' theft of the cattle of the Sun (The Homeric Hymn to Hermes; Herzfeld 1985: 31). It is entirely possible that this account was fabricated on the basis of that myth, but the attraction to the theme of cunning is nonetheless significant. Cunning is inculcated at an early age in children, who take an avid interest in Karangi6zis, the popular protagonist in Greek shadow theater and now a television cartoon character. Karangi6zis is portrayed as always hungry and solely concerned with satisfying his stomach. He accomplishes this by the manipulation of authority figures, often portrayed as Turks or officials. Karangi6zis represents the Greek underdog who found such conniving necessary in the period when the Orthodox Christian millet was under Turkish domination (Danforth 1976). Someone who is very clever and always successful may be called diaolemenos, "devilish," or diaolou kdltsa, "the Devil's sock." This association with the Devil is fundamental rather than fortuitous. In the New Testament

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ponirfa was a prime attribute of the Devil. The difference in accentuation between ponirfa and poniria already signals the presence of two distinct perceptions of the same phenomenon. One form is instrumental in expressing an ethical proscription of the Church while the other articulates a workaday value in a society with a history of weak or unreliable civil agencies. This divide between universal rule and empirical strategy exemplifies the varying forms which a common element of knowledge may assume in textual as opposed to oral, contextual formulations. Whereas poniria means ''cunning'' in everyday use on Naxos, ponirfa should be glossed in the New Testament as "evil" in an unequivocal sense (Matt. 12:33ff.; Luke 6:43ff.). Standing on its own with the definite article, o poniros could mean the Devil himself, the source and prime worker of evil (Matt. 6: 13; Eph. 6: 16). When I drew this to the attention of people in the village, they acknowledged a degree of contradiction between their religious tenets and daily practice. They said that, in principle, they deplore cunning, yet it is an inevitable feature of a world that is fallen and imperfect. The best thing, they said, was to attend church regularly and try to heed Scripture. In this way one would draw closer to God and so be invulnerable to the Devil. Guile is such an expected component of local action that one learns to suspect appearances strongly, even when going along with them, and assume that there is a hidden, unexpressed motivation. Someone easily taken in is a koroiao. 10 The premium on trickery has created a situation where virtually no plan, even if it may be realized by perfectly straightforward means, is aesthetically pleasing unless it has a hidden trick to it. A business deal is more attractive, more invigorating, if it involves a bribed official or profits that may be concealed from the tax collector. In certain situations people complain vociferously about poniria. For example, if a villager is told of the success of another villager in securing a civil service position or in gaining admission to the university, his first reaction is to remark that they ''must have known someone on the inside," not necessarily to acknowledge the eo-villager's individual merit. Indeed, it might even be suggested that there were other more qualified, more deserving candidates for the given position. Of course this same villager will not hesitate to resort to his own connections when his children apply for civil service posts. In spite of occasional strategic disclaimers such as the above, it seems that cunning is encouraged by the patronage system and ultimately constitutes a social value. Politics is the classic arena for cunning. During my stay villagers often applauded the actions of the Greek prime minister in his negotiations with the Americans or EEC as being real triumphs of cunning. Local politics are a combination of patronage and cunning. Elected officials are in the best position to grant favors to those in the party ranks and they make obvious patrons. In the village, votes are lured by promises of personal favors such as a bank loan or the improvement of public utilities (roads, phones, electricity, plumb-

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ing) that affect one's holdings. The village is split into two main political factions, the right and the left. These two parties well know who they may count on, and in advance of an election know almost exactly how many votes they will poll. If there is a new supporter to whom they have promised a favor, they may make certain that he votes for the party by supplying him with a ballot that has already been marked for their candidate. This ballot may also bear a small, almost invisible marking, such as a pin prick in a certain place, which identifies it as this particular person's ballot. Many people thus enter the polling station with their ballot already marked and in their pocket. When all the votes are counted, if the party has done worse than expected, the party representative present at the tallying of ballots may check the cast ballots by holding them up to the light to see if one of the new supporters has betrayed them. There are constant accusations of electoral fraud in the village, most notably around the mayoral elections of 1982 when the left defeated the right by only a few votes. In anticipation of their victory the leader of the right of center political party, who was also the incumbent mayor of the village, had already slaughtered a calf for the victory celebration. A re-count only further verified the defeat, but as an ongoing protest 160 families have not paid their taxes to the community since the new mayor assumed office in 1983. This is not an example of poniria since everyone can see who is doing what and why. It is a case of sambotaz (sabotage). The following is a paradigm case of political cunning in the village. The former mayor was a vigorous fund raiser and used these funds to build structures that he, and others along with him, thought useful for the village: a slaughterhouse, a village office, and a room for women to exhibit their weavings to tourists. His most controversial building was a circular structure less than a mile from the village that was meant to be a cafe and perhaps hold a permanent exhibition of village crafts. Reportedly this was built without the planning permission essential for the erection of any structure on the island. There is also a steep tax that goes along with this permission. It is charged by the square meter and according to whether the structure houses commercial or domestic space. So that those who were opposed to his plan would not stop him or report him to higher authorities, he made as if he were going to dig a well where he wanted the cafe to be. Thus he dug a circular foundation trench. When all was in readiness he called a number of supporters and workers who then threw the round structure up in a matter of a few days. Before he could be halted the "rotonda" was a fait accompli. Once a building is roofed it may not be tom down; only a fine may be levied. It is said that the sole reason for the building's circular structure was the ruse of the well. Yet when people asked the mayor why he had built a circular instead of a rectangular building he claimed that it was ''traditional'' (paradosiakO). At about the same time the whole village of Apeiranthos was declared "traditional," which meant that all

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new buildings had to follow certain regulations (level roofs, wooden window and door frames, etc.). Most people thought that this label was a distinction and a recognition of the village's worth, yet most had no precise idea as to what restrictions and advantages this designation conferred. The mayor's claim of traditionality cleverly exploited these vague notions of authenticity and value. Besides a few windmills there is no precedent for circular structures in the village. This mayor also put his name on many of the structures that he built, inlaying it on a marble plaque in a conspicuous place such as above the doorway. The succeeding mayor and his followers denounced all of these structures as illegal (along with some 120 other buildings that had been built in the village under the previous mayor). It was an obvious favor to supporters to allow them to put up houses on their property without reporting them. Allegedly he helped his own party members to secure loans that are given at a favorable rate for "traditional" villages. After taking office, the new mayor decided that the building housing the community office was not traditional because of its raw stone exterior and thus would have to be plastered over and whitewashed. This he set about doing, again without any planning permission. The community office is located in a very prominent part of the village, just as one enters from the bus stop and heads either to the main square or else up into the village. In this little square there is a plaque in memory of Petros Protopapadilis, the former prime minister, who was a native son of Apeiranthos. This plaque is situated in front of the church and across from the community office above the door of which is a plaque proclaiming that the office was built during the leadership of the former mayor. In such a position, across from the monument to the former prime minister, this plaque lays claim to a permanent place in village memory. Sensitive as everyone is to acts of ponirid, there was general certainty that the ulterior motive behind the new mayor's plan to plaster the village office was to plaster over and obscure this plaque. When workmen came one August day, supporters and relatives of the former mayor drove a lorry up so close to the office that the new mayor was trapped inside and the workers could not get anywhere near the walls. For a few moments intracommunal violence looked likely. In the end the police came from Phil6ti and defused the situation. To this day the building remains unplastered. It should be noted that raw stone exteriors have a long and perfectly historical precedent in local construction and the new mayor's attempt to describe this as "untraditional" was every bit as misleading as the former mayor's claim that the "rotonda" was traditional.

Values such as cleverness, autarky, and cunning were, and still remain, important components in the worldview of agriculturalists. They are also central in the ideology of those politicians, civil servants, and students who are systematically abandoning agriculture and the village altogether. I have suggested that changes in profession and economy have not effaced these perennial values and the best evidence for this are the direct statements of those

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villagers most closely involved. They say their cleverness or cunning is a natural consequence of being from Apefranthos, even if they have never lived in the village. The high success rate of villagers in all modem spheres of life, academics, politics (2 MPs and various other high-ranking officials come from the village), and commerce are, in their eyes, the continued expression of village superiority. This was formerly established in strictly local terms-brave shepherds, great music, and fine craftsmanship (weaving, architecture, carpentry). GENDER: OPPOSITION, COMPLEMENTARITY, AND MARRIAGE

Up to now several points of difference between the ideals and activities of males and females have been noted. Women rarely herd sheep and only occasionally help in the fields. They are instead associated with the house and with domestic activity; they are seen as weaker than men and subordinate to them. Whereas women preserve and preside over the purity and resources of the (domestic) household, men produce-but they may also be said to consume. More precisely, they eat. The semantic field of the verb ''to eat'' (trogo) illustrates a range of quintessentially male activities. Sexual intercourse, the expenditure of money, threats of violence, and invitations to participate in a thieving expedition are all expressible by means of this single verb (Herzfeld 1985: 45). When I first arrived in Apefranthos the carpenter with whom I was living took me aside and hyperbolically explained, "Here, Karolos, every man will eat [at a sitting] no less than five kilos of meat, drink five kilos of wine, and go heavy on the cigarettes ... at least two packs." Differences between the sexes are further represented in unusual physiological terms. Some male villagers espoused the view that men are more intelligent than women because their brains are physically larger. Men thus need to be trusted with decision making because of their greater rational capacity. One priest from a nearby village suggested that men were superior in the eyes of God and as evidence he noted that the male genital organs form a Trinity. When shepherds make cheese they pour all of their sheep and goats' milk into a large cauldron and add rennet. The congealed milk sinks to the bottom whence it is gathered by hand and packed into wicker cheese baskets. This first cheese is called male cheese (arseniko tyr(). It is dense, rich, and forms a hard external crust aided by numerous rubbings with salt. It keeps easily for a year or more. After making this cheese the shepherds pour a little more fresh milk into the cauldron and light a fire beneath it. Shortly before it comes to a boil the milk congeals once again and floats to the top. It is skimmed off and packed into wicker baskets with a slotted spoon. This second cheese is lighter and sweeter than the first. Furthermore it has a lower market price and does not keep as well. Known as myzfthra throughout Greece, it is called "female

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9. Making "female cheese" inside a stone storage shed (mitato).

cheese" (thilykO tyrl} by Naxiote shepherds. Hardness and saltiness are associated with the male cheese, softness and sweetness with female cheese. Besides the house, particularly the kitchen where visitors (mainly female neighbors) are received, women have no forum in the village. They are consequently much less visible than men, a fact that mitigates their exhibiting pride and vanity in the same way that men do. There is no record of women holding political office in the village. Men are considered the heads of households and almost always represent the family in financial and legal dealings with the world beyond (Friedl 1962: 90; 1986). Evidence of this is the infrequency with which women appear, either as plaintiffs, defendants, or even as witnesses, at the circuit court that convenes every few months in Tragea. When a woman's personal property is at stake, say in the case of trespass, a husband or other close male relative often represents her interests in court. The position of women in Greek society, particularly their relation to power, has recently drawn the attention of numerous anthropologists (Macrakis and Alien 1983; Dubisch 1986) and certain interpretations have become more or less accepted. First, the social role of women in Greece places them in a position where they are not necessarily "profane"; rather, as we have seen, they often take responsibility for the family's physical and spiritual purity. They may not themselves be "sacred" but they do mediate and facilitate their family's contact with the sacred (Dubisch 1983; Hirschon 1983a). Sec-

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ond, while women do not ordinarily wield social or political "power" outright, they may exercise an informal power through their ability to sway husbands and especially sons (Dubisch 1986: 24). Evidence from Naxos suggests yet another interpretation that integrates much of this research into a new perspective. Drawing on the ideas of Louis Dumont, especially as expressed in his more recent writings (1983; cf. Barnes 1985), I think that we may view Greek ideology as exhibiting two levels: one of religious authority and one of political and martial power. In India these two levels, which are complementary and combine to form a total ideology, characterize the respective functions of the priestly Brahmin caste and the warrior Rajput caste (Dumont 1980). These two distinctive levels are also apparent in Christian societies, as Dumont himself has noted (1983), and they surface in the vexed historical relation between Church and state. It is not my concern here to examine the historical reasons for the presence of this twotiered ideological configuration on Naxos. I wish only to draw attention to what I see as the evidence that such an ideological configuration is indeed operative, and then proceed to consider how this affects our understanding of the position of women. Thus far we have seen that the social worlds of men and women are fairly separate and often opposed, at least symbolically. Many anthropologists have observed that the very different spheres of male and female activity should properly be viewed as complements, especially at the level of the household (Campbe111964: 150; Hirschon 1983a; 1989: 219ff.). The household may be taken as a single unit, the spiritual requirements of which are the concern of women while its economic and political needs concern men. The gender-determined division of labor in Greece thus correlates with the two levels in the ideology. Interestingly, women are linked to the higher level in the overall ideology, the level of religion that concerns final, universal questions of eschatology and salvation. It is furthermore represented as superior (heaven), Religion can thus be seen to encompass the temporal, political level on which all of society, not just men, operate most of the time. From the perspective of mundane power the Church is scorned on Naxos and called a "conspiracy" (komb(na) or a mafia. 11 Great care must be taken when considering such statements. If they are accepted at face value as representative of the whole ideology, then, as analysts, we participate in the same limited vision as some of the actors we are attempting to understand. Marriage constitutes an inversion of everyday life in which segregation between the sexes is the status quo. In this ceremony men and women are yoked together (an image present in the word for "spouse," sjzygos) through an elaborate ceremony. Marriage unites husband and wife in a mystical bond. In the course of the ceremony the priest prays: ''Unite them in one mind; Crown them into one flesh" (l:u~eul;ov airtoiu; ELs O!WQOcrUvrt· Ev'tt] !J.OU, 'to IIDxatQL. X 'tLO£ 't1JV lj>avaQLOnLooa xaL 1111 !J.OU l)w01J~ :n:Qai'IID M' ax61W l)ev lj>aV1JXE mov x6o11o 'tE'toto Elal'l'a.

The Phanari6tissa laid on her right hand And the knife, father, didn't go deep. Build the Phanari6tissa and don't give me anything; Such a miracle has not yet been shown to the world. (Kephalliniadis 1985: 145)

The several versions of this miracle attest to its constant reworking in village tradition. Miracles are not always isolated interactions between an individual and a saint; they obviously reflect on the community as a whole. Certainly the pilgrimage to the top of Mt. Phanan to celebrate the festival of the Panagia on the Friday after Easter is now participated in by the village at large. The translation of historical events into distich form expresses village pride at the same time as it provides a mnemonic form. Distichs may also be composed to describe historical events such as the struggle with the Venizelist army in 1917. 5 The precise date of the Phanari6tissa miracle is not known, but may roughly be situated in the latter half of the nineteenth century (Kephallinilidis 1985: 145). Today the cost of building chapels or churches as devotions is prohibi-

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tive and people are more inclined to construct modest shrines (proskynitaria) at the point where a miracle occurred. 6 On the main road leading to Apeiranthos there is such a shrine recently built as an offering to the Panagfa for saving a young boy who strayed into a blasting area and was seriously injured. This small shrine amounts to a glass case containing an inexpensive icon of the Panagfa and an oil lamp that is lit most evenings-without fail on Saturday (lll. 12). The most impressive of such shrines is an elaborate polished marble structure in the shape of a miniature church near the village ofMyloi (lll. 13). On this spot two separate accidents occurred. In one case a man transporting quicklime was badly scarred when one of the bags burst; in the other, a man preparing for the priesthood was blinded when a splinter from the switch he was using to drive his donkey flew into his eye. This injury prevented his taking the cloth, and was final proof of the presence of demonic forces at this tr(strato (a place where three roads meet; considered, in any case, a dangerous point for contact with the demonic). The building of the proskynitari here served finally to safeguard a demonstrably dangerous place (Emmanuell986). ISLANDS OF SACRALITY

Divine intervention, directly or via the saints, may account for the construction of numerous larger village churches. Such events belong to past history, but are well known and reinforce the sense that one's village--in which such churches stand spiritually and often spatially at the center-is divinely mandated. Members of the community accordingly feel that the occupation of the village on its current site is both valid and necessary. The founding of the church of the Panagfa in Apefranthos (inaugurated 1819) is said to have involved several miracles. The story is told of a shepherd pasturing his sheep along the coast near Moutsouna. He noticed a light shining out at sea. The glowing object drew closer and he went to the shore to see what it was. An icon of the Panagia then emerged from the water and settled on his shoulder. He was frightened and set off walking toward Apeiranthos. Along the way he stopped to rest at two places, Pithadari and Stavr6 tis Rakhis. In each spot the icon indicated that a church should be built. Some say that the Panagia spoke to the shepherd, others that the icon made the sign of the cross. Today chapels stand in both locations, both dedicated to the holy cross. When the shepherd finally arrived at the village he took the icon to a small church dedicated to the Panagfa Prot6thronos. There is some dispute as to whether this church was already standing or was first built for this icon. The name "Prot6thronos" (First Throne) suggests the latter interpretation. The icon, however, would not stay in this church. Every night it would leave and come to rest in a bush where it was found the following morning. This was taken as a sign that the church of the Panagia, which was to become the main

12. A typical shrine along the road leading to Apeiranthos. The chapels in the background represent more elaborate versions of the same principle of sacralizing and taming the countryside.

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13. An exceptionally elaborate marble shrine (proskynitari) at a dangerous intersection of three paths (trfstrato) near Myloi.

church of Apefranthos (I Panagia i Aperathitissa), should be built on this spot. The position of the Panagia' s icon on the icon screen within the present church is said to be at precisely the spot where this bush once was. As indicated, there is some discrepancy as to whether the small chapel, Prot6thronos, was built to hold the icon as the church of the Panagia (subsequently) was. In any case, similar oral traditions exist relating the difficulty of constructing both edifices. These stories dramatically elaborate the overall theme of theophany and cosmogony under consideration here. According to some accounts , the supporting columns of the Prot6thronos church could not be erected by human hands. Old women in the village who narrated these events claimed to ''remember'' them, as if they had been present. Someone who knew how to read the Solomoniki (a magical text that enables one to assemble and command demons) came forward and ordered everyone inside their houses. He proceeded to the church where he read the Solomoniki, thus summoning the demons (oi oxo ap' edo) who erected the marble columns (Kephallinilidis 1985: 97). Similar problems were encountered in attempting to make the larger church stand. The workers would labor on the exterior wall during the day , but at night their efforts were reduced to rubble by a mysterious force. The master builder, a man named Boselanos, dreamt that he would have to build the shadow of his wife into the structure in order for it to stand. The following day he told her to stand so as to cast her shadow

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over the foundation stone while the workers built the wall. At last it stood, but the master builder's wife died three days later (Kephallinilidis 1985: 96). Archival materials and inscriptions on the church of the Panagia Aperathitissa indicate that the church was built in fits and starts between 1760 and 1819, when it was finally inaugurated (Sphyr6eras 1959: 4). The wonderworking icon of the Panagia was framed in silver in 1795 and on grounds of style and technique may be dated to the eighteenth century-and possibly even attributed to the icon painter Nik6laos Span6s, who lived and worked on Naxos in the mid-eighteenth century (Sphyr6eras 1959:6). The elaborations spun around what appear to be historical facts may reflect the impression of this long and protracted piece of work, which necessitated collective labor and financial commitment on a unique scale, as a miracle. Or it may be taken, as I think it should, as a cosmogonic myth in which supernatural forces are accorded a role in establishing the social and spiritual order that the parish church founds within the community. Both the icon of the Panagia, the spiritual and devotional basis of village cult, as well as the walls of the church, its physical basis, are connected with the activity of supernatural forces. This sense of transcendent intervention into human affairs emphasizes the sacrality of both the church and the cult of a particular Pangia who manifested herself uniquely and directly to the community. The community, dependent solely on its members, discovers the sources of its own local cult. Through these stories the people assert that their village is not just a conglomeration of human beings arbitrarily settled together. They are rather a unique community ordained by higher powers, a fact that is symbolized in their church, the product of divinely directed communal effort. MIRACLE AS NARRATIVE GENRE

While appearing to entail only private interaction between an individual and a saint, miracles actually affect larger groups. The individuals in miracle accounts may be taken as standing metonymically for the surrounding community; and even the most private miracles become public knowledge, recounted by people at several removes from the actual events. In cases such as the foundation of churches, social institutions par excellence, it is all the more apparent that miracles bear on the community at large. Accounts of miracles thus comprise a category of oral narrative and share a number of themes or formal characteristics with other types of narrative such as oral histories, ballads, and songs. In cases where the events stand at a considerable spatial or historical remove, this tendency is intelligible as a structuring effect entailed by transmission; there is ample opportunity for collective reinterpretation and recasting in terms of popular themes and forms. But when a miracle is recounted by the very person who recently experienced it and this account strongly exhibits common themes and images, then it must also be considered a possibility that

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collective forms may be internalized to the point where they influence the very experience of miraculous events. The story of the inexhaustible oil container provides one such example of a recent, apparently personal miracle experienced in terms of standard motifs. There are many well known traditions on Naxos telling of self-replenishing food supplies contained in large jars. Most villagers do use such jars for the storage of wine, oil, olives, and grains. According to one account, the church at Glinado (a lowland village) was constructed on its present location because an icon of the Metamorphosis was discovered there by a man shown where to dig in a dream. Next to the icon were two jars, one full of wine, the other full of oil. "From the moment construction work was begun on the church, they ate oil and drank wine and the two jars were never emptied, but remained full. As soon as they finished the church the jars were lost" (imellos 1974: 9). A similar tradition exists regarding the construction of the church of the Panagfa at Agia on the northern coast. The workers discovered an enormous jar full of wine from which they drank and that lasted until they finished the church. The jar is still kept at an old Venetian tower near the church where visitors may see it. Whereas the food or drink supplies in these stories cease when the church is completed and divine assistance is no longer required, the lady in Phil6ti lost her continuous supply of olive oil by speaking inadvertently. This motif also appears in traditional forerunners. Numerous people told of dreams in which they were shown where a treasure, usually a hoard of gold florins, was buried. In all cases the only condition for claiming possession of this treasure was to find the exact spot and excavate it without telling anyone. If even a word should be spoken regarding these treasures they immediately turn to ash. That no such treasures have ever been recovered may be testament in itself to the rapidity with which even only potential miracles become public knowledge. In encounters with the exotika, speech also brings disastrous consequences, for these demons may then control people or steal their voice. One must proceed in silence when demons are present, paying them no heed and perhaps inwardly reciting a prayer or the first part of the Creed. Demonstration of the collective basis of the symbols and motifs involved in personal experiences of miracles should not be thought to detract from their truth value for the people. On the contrary, these miracles inspire even greater faith (in those who already believe) and it is quite possible that-like Naxiote cuisine, which offers a small variety of distinct and well-known dishes--if the accounts did not assume a familiar and recognizable form, they would be unacceptable. If it is conceded that seemingly isolated and personal miracles are a bricolage of available motifs, then it would be superfluous to demonstrate this again in the case of church-building miracles that affect the whole community fundamentally. The task instead becomes one of gauging just how broadly and tenaciously these motifs hold. The theme of the icon that washed

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up from the sea and moved mysteriously to the spot where a church was to be founded is so common on Naxos that it has even achieved a status in ritualat the celebration of the Entry of the Mother of God (November 21 ). 7 According to those in attendance at the celebration of this service in the Khrysopolitissa church in Kh6ra, they do not gather only to commemorate the discovery of the main icon of the Khrysopolitissa church said to have been washed ashore nearby after being cast into the sea at Khrys6polis, a town at the mouth of the Bosphorous (Kephalliniadis 1980: 117). Along with this particular icon of the Panagia they honor all icons that washed ashore on Naxos, either during the Iconoclast controversy (ninth century) or after the destruction of Constantinople (fifteenth century). The motif of the building that will not stand without human sacrifice is widely found in Greece and throughout the Balkans in ballads such as the Bridge of Arta (Megas 1971; Oikonomidis 1981). imellos (1986) has even devoted a special study to the construction of the Apeiranthos church, linking it with this larger tradition. Motifs appealed to in the expression of miracles appear to belong to a large pool of motifs and imagery common in folk song generally (Beaton 1980). Following Beaton it may be agreed that the search for the origins of most of these narratives is an arid endeavor (1980: 120ff.). Still, the mechanism of diffusion needs to be considered, for while certain motifs are general enough to have been products of independent invention, others are of a complexity and consistency (with far-flung variants) that strongly imply they were passed across geographical regions. Needham's ( 1980: 33) suggestion that certain motifs are/were ''intrinsically attractive'' to the human imagination may account for both the possibility of isolated creation and diffusion. Motifs would not have been embraced and adopted by listeners, diffusion would have failed, and creation would never have occurred, if not for a preexisting cognitive bias that identified certain themes as attractive. Needham's is a very general picture of intellectual proclivities that is meant to apply on a global comparative level. Given the concern here with a single linguistic area and primarily with a small island community, it may be expected that common cultural factors greatly supplement human cognitive predispositions in establishing the attractiveness of motifs. The existence of belief in elemental spirits (stoikheia) on Naxos, and throughout Greece, must certainly have supported and encouraged the spread of the "sacrifice at building foundation" motif. The foregoing considerations serve to establish no more than a minimal baseline for the recurrence of certain themes. Cognition is certainly an important consideration but to treat it as the sole impetus behind the creation and/or diffusion of oral traditions is to deny that these traditions communicate socially. A strictly cognitive approach treats them wholly as instances of art for art's sake or, more precisely, as thought for thought's sake. Full appraisal of

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the social dynamics behind the diffusion of miracle narratives would be a large undertaking but one proposition may profitably be examined here. If miracle accounts assert a community's close relation to God, then the absence of similar accounts in adjacent communities must present a relation of spiritual disparity. The second community may accept a position that is inferior from a Christian viewpoint or else it may create its own miracle traditions, drawing on those of the first community but reworking the details, perhaps in a fashion so as to go one up, thus staking a claim to spiritual superiority. This model, whereby miracle narratives index the sacrality of a local community, may possibly account for the number of very similar miracles on Naxos involving the discovery of icons and the foundation of churches. In most cases, however, these events belong to a distant past and it would be difficult to trace the exact sequence of events. The church of the Panagia at Argokoili founded in the nineteenth century offers one exceptional test case. From current traditions circulating in K6ronos,8 as well as from the 1836 account of a local priest (Korres 1962, Kephallinh1dis 1990: 86ff.), we may reconstruct a fairly detailed picture of events surrounding the discovery of the icon that led to the founding of the church. A man called Doumbrogiannis had a recurrent dream in which he was visited by the Panagia who showed him where to dig in order to find her icon. He dug until he opened a small cavern at Argokoili and several times, thinking that he was on the verge of discovering the icon, he called the village to come and witness the event. Finally, on March 25, the day of the Annunciation of the Panagia as well as the date that now commemorates the outbreak of the Greek war of independence, the icon was found. After the church service in V6throi (a village now abandoned) the congregation, led by some seven officiating priests, went in procession with the village icons to the place where Doumbrogiannis had opened his cavern. He descended into it wearing only a robe so there could be no question of his planting a facsimile, and resurfaced with a small icon, said on Naxos to be one of only three executed by St. Luke. It was immediately hailed as a wonder-working icon of the greatest efficacy and became the focus of pilgrimage; ''people came to visit this icon and be healed as at the fount of Siloam.'' Some years later, the icon was stolen and only returned in 1931. Although the evidence is mainly circumstantial I would suggest that this miracle was created in competitive response to the miraculous founding of the church and monastery of the Panagfa on Tinos (Dubisch 1988, 1990). In creating a tradition that could usurp the sanctity, authority, and thus the pilgrims that Tinos claimed, the Naxiotes borrowed many of the same motifs. An icon depicting the Annunciation of the Panagia, said to be a work of St. Luke, was found in 1823 on Tinos, while the events on Naxos date to between 1831 and 1835 (Kephallinilidis 1971: 144). The Tinos discovery was also foretold by a series of dreams in which the Panagia appeared, the first of which occurred to an eighty-year-old man shortly before the Annunciation in 1821-just prior to

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the outbreak of the war for liberation from the Turks. The subsequent dreams of a nun led to its discovery nearly two years later (Gudas 1988). The Tinos icon was stolen shortly thereafter, but returned within days when the thief was apprehended before escaping from the island. The events on Tinos all prefigure and predate those on Naxos, but the events at Argokofli follow closely enough (within a decade) that a degree of imitation, even if unconscious, may be asserted. Note that the first Greek monarch, King Otho, traveled to Tinos in 1833 to pay his respects at the shrine (Dubisch 1988: 122). The good fortune of Tinos was surely known on Naxos and quite possibly envied. Foreign travelers around this time expressed deep skepticism at the events both on Tinos and subsequently on Naxos. 9 Each narrative involves the following sequence: (1) dream visitation of the Panagfa; (2) unearthing of the icon of the Panagfa attributed to St. Luke 10 ; (3) events set around the celebration of the Annunciation; (4) establishment of church/monastery that becomes a focus for pilgrimage; and (5) theft and return of the icon. There is one final detail that strengthens the assertion that the Naxiotes were attempting to establish a spiritual and symbolic dominance. The third icon of St. Luke has yet to be discovered. According to informants in K6ronos, it still lies buried in the ground just beyond the eastern wall of the church at Argokofli. When builders tried to construct a semicircular apse that would have covered this spot, the wall would not stand. There are a number of prophecies in circulation today that this icon will be uncovered and the modest complex of holy buildings at Argokofli will be transformed into a large and proper monastery that will be famous throughout Greece. When this happens "forty treasures from around Naxos will be unearthed and brought to Argokofli.'' Such a prophecy enables the Naxiotes to accept that although the Panagfa of Tinos enjoys a greater following at present, the cult at Argokofli has potential yet to be realized. Thus far, accounts of miracles may be treated as a sort of discourse figuring positive interaction between the human and suprahuman worlds. In opposition to miracles stand accounts of the exotikii that concern negative and catastrophic interactions with the transcendent realm. The two discourses are similar in many respects, including the motifs drawn upon, and may be seen to contemplate a single moral and cosmological problematic: the precarious position of the human world between God and the Devil. While miracles efface the distance between society and Divinity and represent moments of protection, encounters with demons destroy the possibility of permanent union with God and emphasize that the human world is in fact fallen. THE NEED FOR MIRACLES: ILLNESS

As miracles rectify misfortune and alleviate suffering, their study may reveal much about the social perception of weakness and vulnerability. The themes

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of miracle accounts may be relatively constant, but the actual features and details of the stories alter as the necessities of life change. Miracles, such as the case where the Panagfa appeared to a girl in her dreams and told her exactly which questions would be asked on an exam, were not, in all likelihood, so prominent in the last century before there was a secondary school on Naxos and before the national concern with higher education had begun to affect the villagers. Certainly there could not have been any miracles involving tractors before the Second World War. In these, men who overturn their tractors (or, in one case, collide with a well) are saved by the intervention of the Panagfa, much as the shepherd on Mt. Phanari was protected from injury when he fell over the cliff. Certain concerns, such as health, are perennial and have remained a constant context for miraculous intervention. lll health is also one of the primary misfortunes caused by the exotika, and so divine intervention in restoration of health often happens to counter demonic attacks (Oikonomfdis 1983: 375). When people speak of cancer and other fatal diseases they often add the phrase "far and away from here" (exo kai makria ap' edo), meaning "May this disease stay away from us." On occasion the disease itself is apotropaically called ''away from here'' without any further specification or denomination. This is significant, for demons may also be called "the away from heres" (oi ox' ap' edo). Verification of the overwhelming popular concern with health may be had at any major saint's day celebration. Representations of the human body, or parts thereof, were the most common sort of devotion hung beneath the icon of the Panagfa during her festival at Argokofli. Some of these express the wish that a woman conceive, but the majority appeal for restoration to health of an ailing part of the anatomy. People on Naxos do not consider the resort to saints through prayers and devotions to exclude the necessity for medical care. Mikhalis Khadzis from Agersani told of his recent prostate troubles. After numerous consultations doctors advised him to undergo surgery in Athens if his ailment did not improve within six months. Mikhalis dreaded this solution and redoubled his prayers to the Panagfa, hoping she would heal his condition. As a devotion he promised to chant in church every Sunday for one year free of charge (as a cantor he was entitled to a small fee). In the intervening period, while waiting to go to Athens, he met a German tourist who had some medicine sent from Germany that could help his condition. He took this medicine and his symptoms disappeared. Looking at the medicine bottle (still bearing its German label) that he was using to fill with wine to accompany lunches when working in the fields, Mikhalis said, "I took this [medicine] and got better." Then he immediately crossed himself and uttered a short prayer to Christ and the Panagfa. The medicine would not have worked without the Panagia, and he was in the process of fulfilling his vow by chanting for free on Sundays.

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Medical and scientific achievements are accommodated within the framework of divine intervention. One often notices crosses or icons in doctors' waiting rooms. In a world where good health and success are the gifts of God, doctors and surgeons can only be agents operating within the limits of supernatural constraints. For the festival of St. John Chrysostom held in a monastery dedicated to the saint just outside Kh6ra, a couple from Santorini (a Cycladic island two hours away) brought thirty kilos each of wine, yellow peas, and bread for the pilgrims. They had come because the woman was having trouble with her eyes and had already been to several ophthalmologists with no success. They were smartly dressed and gave the impression of prosperity. One of the pilgrims remarked that their devotion was an act of "sacrifice" (thys£a). "Look what a sacrifice they made in bringing so much food." The provision of food was a sacrifice, not because it was given directly to the saint, but insofar as it constituted an act of self-denial. It is commonly said, for example, that a mother "sacrifices" on behalf of and for the benefit of her children (Alexiou 1989: 19; 1990). At this same festival an old woman from nearby Kh6ra told of a man from Naxos who went to America for open heart surgery. The doctors had him on the operating table but the voice of St. John Chrysostom stopped them and the man recovered without undergoing surgery. She pointed out that he was wearing a medallion of the saint around his neck at the time. Two recently canonized saints, St. Eirini Khryssovol!indou and St. Nektarios, are deemed to have preeminent wonder-working power in questions of health. Near Kourounokh6ri the sight of a blind girl was restored by the saint as she was walking along a path. A church was built to St. Nektarios on this site and beneath it, along the path, a plaque was erected in 1965 proclaiming in puristic Greek: "Here I was cured. I saw my vision through a miracle of St. Nektarios" (EA!J E9EPAllEY9HN 11 EIAA THN OP.Al:IN MOY //AlA 9AYMATOl: 11 Ar NEKTAPIOY). A woman from K6ronos described how St. Nektarios once healed her: What a good thing it is to pray to a saint for something and for the saint to perform a miracle for you, and for you to see it with your own eyes. Many years ago, when I was still young, I had a sore on my palate. It distressed and irritated me constantly. At night it was so painful that I would sit upright in my sleep. It was a bad thing; it irritated me continuously. I prayed every day to the Panagia and to St. Nektarios. I said, "Please, if it is something serious, leave me now while I have small children to raise because they are helpless. Let them mature and grow stronger. Then you can do to me what you like." I fasted continuously. I fasted for ten days. If anyone asked I just said, ''I ate earlier.'' Sometimes I would eat food with oil for two or three days but then I fasted again. Seven, eight, five, or six days-as long as I could stand it. Q: Why did you fast? A: In order to beseech (na parakaleso), so to say. Haven't you ever heard how people fast and pray? ... I prayed and prayed continuously. Prayers and tears. Then

14. Devotions suspended beneath an icon of St. Nektanos in a chapel dedicated to him.

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I saw in my dreams that I was in a place, so to say, a wide open space. How should I say it ... in a plain. As I was standing in that place I saw a mass of people far away from me, more people than I'd ever seen in one place. I asked, "What are they doing over there?" A person replied, "It's a doctor who, they say, saves people." A doctor they told me, not a saint, who heals people. I say to myself, "Should I go?" I was aware that I was sick and I said, "Should I go too, so that he'll save me?" When I went up close I heard people shouting. They had formed a circle around him. They didn't approach him as one would a doctor at his practice, to be given some medicine. But they approached him in a different fashion. One paralytic went up to him and said, •'I beg you doctor, save me too.'' Everyone did it in this manner: "Please doctor, save me too." One by one. Then it was my turn. I went and stood near to him and said, "Please doctor, save me too as I have small children." As soon as I went and stood close to him I recognized that he was St. Nektarios. I saw the staff he had. He took me by the hand and looked at me and put his hand in my mouth and pulled a nail out of my palate. A nail just as you have [gesturing to my fingernails], growing. He pulled this nail out of my palate and threw it down in front of me covered in blood. If you looked at the back part of it, it was all bloody. At this point I awoke. I reached back there with my tongue and couldn't find it. I tried with my hand, couldn't find it. I said to myself, "Is something real happening or is this a dream?'' I realized I had been dreaming. But thanks to God, the saint, and the Panagia, it disappeared from my palate. When he pulled the nail out the sore disappeared. Do you understand? I myself saw this with my own eyes. Can you possibly not believe it? . . . Is it possible not to believe that the saint exists and works wonders? It is enough if you just have faith (p(stis). I've seen many similar things in my dreams. I am completely convinced that saints exist and work wonders. I see it in practice. If I beseech them to do something with prayer and fasting ....

Although for analytic purposes we class God and the Christian holies together as supernatural powers, and in general conversation informants as well may refer to them as higher (anoteres) or supernatural (yperphysikes) powers, this does not, as the above account demonstrates, mean that they have no reality. On the contrary, the above informant insisted that these were events and effects felt in practice (prdxz), in reality (pragmatik6tita). The important point is that supernatural powers are experienced as real if one believes. The faculty of belief renders the otherwise distant supernatural real in specific moments. Faith places one under divine protection and makes one a Christian. It also predisposes one to viewing fortunate events post facto as miracles, not as consequences of natural cause and effect. The woman's sore went away because of St. Nekatarios's intervention, not through a process of natural healing. In these questions people enter into a circularity of mutually reinforcing beliefs. The general assumption that there exist positive supernatural forces is

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proved by reference to specific miracles. Yet specific miracles would not be seen to occur unless one first believed generally (Geertz 1968: 39). THE CONSEQUENCES OF FAITH

Nonbelievers are prime targets for saintly retribution, an idea that further reinforces the conviction that faith in the sacra is just and proper. The following tale is taken from the school exercise book of a young Aperathftis: Many years ago, according to tradition, Lazonik6las and Tsountanoi6rgis were going to Moutsouna. I6rgis was carrying a tin of oil. On the road they were discussing saints and the Cross. Tsountanoi6rgis said he didn't believe any of that. At exactly that moment his tin sprang a leak and his oil began to leak out. In despair I6rgis said, "My true Cross, don't allow the oil to flow out. I believe that you [saints] exist and that you are fully alive, all of you.'' Upon saying this his tin sealed up immediately.

This tale has a humorous aspect that makes it appealing to children while at the same time it inculcates very specific values regarding faith. The effectiveness of this lesson may be gauged from an incident told to me by the mother of a young teenage boy. On his way to an outlying pasture her son was frightened by strange sounds in the vicinity of a small chapel dedicated to the holy cross-actually the very same chapel where Tsountanoi6rgis ran into trouble-and he vowed a tin of oil to the chapel if he could only pass along his way unharmed. That night he saw a cross hovering in the air in his dreams, demanding the payment of oil. His mother says that he fulfilled his vow as soon thereafter as possible. In other accounts the punishment for lack of faith may be more severe. It is widely held, for example, that one should not work on the feast day of St. Spyndon. Gi6rgos Krassas, from Phil6ti, once decided to work on that day because he urgently needed to finish building a wall on his property. That afternoon he did not return. Gi6rgos's father went to the field and found him sprawled on the ground unconscious. He brought him back to Phil6ti, but Gi6rgos did not recover his voice; he remained mute. Some time later he happened to visit the church of St. Spyndon in Tragea. When he saw the icon of the saint he recognized him as the one who had struck him down. He began to revere the saint and his voice retuined. People said that St. Spyndon had struck Gi6rgos down as a reminder that his day should be respected. Very different consequences ensue when a faithful person encounters a saint. A woman from K6ronos was gathering porikhi (a wild grass used for cooking) and noticed an old man who was also gatheringporikhi. He motioned for her to come closer to him and said, "I'm human" (eimai anthropos), so she would not be afraid. When she got close to him he said, "I'm a saint, St. Spyndon, and from now on I shall illuminate you" (tha se photiso). She possessed an icon of St. Spyridon, and when she summoned him it would rattle

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and the glass would perspire. She would wipe away this perspiration with a piece of cotton and then be able to see clearly into the nature of things as well as into the future. People would come to ask the saint, through this woman's mediumship, about things they had lost or about the outcome of future events. She called St. Spyndon her "old man" (o geros mou; this is the common way of referring to one's father or grandfather) and she would ask people to wait while she called him to come. She predicted that one day "winged monsters" would appear in the sky. Years later, when airplanes came into service, people understood what she had meant. She also predicted that a bell would be built at Argokoili that would resound throughout the whole world. Some years later a very tall bell tower was constructed on a hill just beyond Argokofli. Was this the fulfillment of her prophecy? No, people said, it was only an expression of one man's vanity (egoism6s). "Have you ever heard that bell ring?" asked one man. He was right, the bell was broken. The real answer to her prophecy, he indicated, was the radar dish that the Navy had installed at their station just above the church at Argokofli. CHRISTIAN SACRA AND THE EXOTIKA

Standing in the church square after the Sunday liturgy, an elderly woman explained that the exotika do not appear very often nowadays. "Earlier, when people were virtuous and had faith, they were often attacked by exotika. Now people no longer believe [in God]; they perform all sorts of horrible acts. They have gone to the Devil. There is no need for the Devil to come in search of them.'' This view reflects the standard Christian position as embodied in the life of Christ and in the saints' lives. The expression of true faith and the path toward union with God are threatened by temptings of the Devil that must be fended against. Consequently, the exotika most often attack people of exemplary Christian virtue, above all priests and monks, while those who show no interest in the faith escape any special attention from the demons. One man told of an affine, a monk on the island of Syros, who came to Naxos for a visit. On his way to Argokoili, near a certain well, he heard music and beautiful singing. He wanted to listen to the singing so he took out his cross from inside his robe and sat down. The singing drew closer and closer until a beautiful nerai'da dressed in white passed by him and disappeared down the gorge below into an abandoned emery mine. The power of Christian symbols, backed by evident faith, protected the priest. One student of Naxiote traditions, Sophia Emmanuel, was recently told about the priest of Kato Sangri who met the Devil in the form of a young child as he was passing through a remote part of the interior of the island. He offered the child a ride on the back of his mule but soon began to notice that the child's feet were growing longer, to the point where they almost touched the ground. Alerted by this sign, the priest took out his cross and squeezed it tightly in the child's hand, "with the

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result that he imprisoned the devil. And instead of the devil harming the priest, it was the priest who enslaved the devil." After that he kept the devil in his cellar where he knitted and wove for him. It is said that the priest still has him there working to this day (Emmanuel 1986). In what must be considered a variation of this same motif, the story is told in Apefranthos of a priest who offered a woman a ride on his donkey but also discovered her feet growing longer. He enslaved this female devil (diaola), not through the use of sacred symbols, but by seizing her headscarf, a theme common in encounters with nereids. If the demon successfully traps or dominates the priest, the sanctity of the whole community is threatened. The story is told of a priest who was seduced on a Saturday night by the Devil, who assumed the form of his wife. God stopped him from performing the liturgy the following morning and sent an angel in his place. 11 The exotika hate and struggle against priests and the religious community. At times they may enter the church and stand next to people but when the priest says "the doors, the doors" (tas thyras, tas thyras) 12 then they must leave the church. They do not have the right to remain inside so they stand just outside. According to one woman this is why they are called the exotika (lit. "things outside"). People say that years ago the Devil, in the guise of a monk, tried to infiltrate the Phaneromeni Monastery on the north coast of the island. His evil design (zervovoulisi) was to cause the abbot of the monastery to marry. One of the workers in the monastery, an innocent shepherd, saw this monk consorting with battalions of horrific homed demons and informed the abbot. The latter then ordered crosses to be placed at all the entrances to the chapel, including cracks and holes, and commanded all monks in the monastery to be present at the evening service. When he reached the point in the service where he called out, "the doors, the doors," the Devil looked around for an escape, but all the exits were sealed and he "exploded" (eskase). These accounts all reveal an essential complementarity between the exotika and the Christian sacra. The immanence of one force implies the absence of the other. Taken together these two types of supernatural powers provide an image ofNaxiote worldview; they are a symbolic expression of how the world is perceived, organized, and evaluated. When positive ideals are not achieved, or in situations of suffering and ill health, misfortune may be attributable to the intervention of the exotika, who strive to corrupt humans by weakening the bonds of their faith in God. The Devil and the exotika, which are his projections and metamorphoses, are encompassed within the same cosmology as God and the Christian holies. In most cases the action of the exotika requires people to take countermeasures that actually deepen their sense of what is right and proper, thus emphasizing the supremacy of Christian ideals. There is no question of multiple cosmologies and alternative worldviews as one might be led to think by Orthodox theology, which expressly excludes demons. Greek

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religion, in the broad sense in which it is understood here, spans and brings into relation all supernatural powers. When asked his opinion of the exotika an uneducated farmer replied, "There must be opposition (antipolitefsi, lit. "political opposition") to God, to the higher power. Without a higher power nothing exists. Nothing stands if there isn't a power superior to everything. Isn't that so?" An elderly woman from Phil6ti also appealed to the analogy of political opposition in describing the exotika: These demons, satanddes, as they are called, were once up in the heavens. They were angels but they wanted to form a political party (komma) in order to surpass God. Then God, who saw this, hurled them down, here, so to say. They became as they are out of obstinacy toward God and they perform evil deeds as we were saying. They enter into people and incite them; they cause married couples to quarrel. Those who kill each other are all demons. Q: What about those who are able to control demons for their own benefit? A: Yes, if you are on his side he does good. Do you understand? They are like parties just like PASOK or Nea Dimokratfa for example.

Implicit in this comparison is the idea that God's party is the incumbent and stronger party while the Devil's is the opposition party. A political system, like a worldview, is predicated on the existence of at least two opposing sides.

THE DEVIL AND THE EXOTIKA

Just as the abstract notion of God is mediated by Christ and the saints, so the abstract concept of evil represented by the Devil is mediated by the plethora of anthropomorphic or zoomorphic exotika. Humans encounter these lesser demons considerably more often than they do the Devil. Sometimes the exotika are referred to as devils (diavoloi) or satanic beings (satanades), thus specifying their status as emissaries of the Devil. According to the Orthodox Church the exotika are nonstandard beliefs, constitutive of superstitiousness. Yet such a proscription does not make sense at the village level, where the exotika are perceived to be manifestations of the Devil, a force that is certainly accepted in Orthodox theology (Campbell1964: 331ff.; Machin 1983: 112). In the abstract, villagers might concede the exotika to be a nonstandard body of belief, but if asked about their idea of the standard Devil they will begin to recount experiences with the exotika. One elderly woman from the lowland village of Tripodes stated flatly that the exotika do not exist. "Nobody believes in them anymore." She agreed that miracles occur, so I asked why nymphs and demons could not also exist. She said that there was a Devil and told me about one experience that she had with him:

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I was unchurched (asardndisti, a period of impurity lasting forty days after parturition) and I got up one night to pee in the courtyard of our house. It was around midnight. The Devil followed me back into the house. I caught sight of him. He had a huge head and lots of black hair. His power was so great, however, that I couldn't speak to warn my husband who was sleeping in the bed with the child. He tried to get me to come to an outlying area of the village. "Come see the children," he said. [The woman telling the story had no idea what this meant except that possibly the Devil had a number of children he had stolen with him.] To show his power over me he ordered me to tear up a sheet, which I did, ripping it into three pieces. But his power was not absolute and I was able to spring to the cabinet and pick up a small bottle of holy water. When he saw what I had in my hand he tried to hide himself under the bed. I threw some of the water under there and then out came a cloud of black smoke that blew out the door. That was an experience of fifty years ago, but I'll never forget it.

This story was associated in the woman's mind with the Devil, but on other parts of the island it is an exotik6 named gell6 or strfngla (Appendix 1) that attacks unchurched mothers and their newborn children. In Apefranthos, as in most villages, the clothes of unbaptized children are not left outside to dry overnight because evil spirits cling to them and then enter the house to harm the child (Sivignon 1978: 32). According to people in Apefranthos, these child-harming demons no longer attack children as they used to. Nonetheless mothers still take precautions not to leave their clothes out overnight. It is worth recording the traditional conception of these female demons in spite of present-day reservations as to their existence. The yalou (local spelling) was a demon that trailed behind people to find an open door after midnight at houses where there were unbaptized children. The yalou followed the person who was entering the house and went and killed the child. To protect her child a mother had to keep a cross made from cane and a piece of bread (on which she had traced the sign of the cross) beneath the child's pillow (Bardam n.d.). Reed crosses were also mounted above all windows and doors of the house during this period of pollution. The unchurched mother was not even supposed to leave her baby for a moment because, it was said, mice might eat it. A recently delivered mother was not supposed to be left alone at all; in the evenings no one besides her husband and close kin were supposed to enter the house. A breach of any of these interdictions, or contact with a corpse, meant loss of her milk. It is also said that two unchurched mothers should not encounter one another, even by chance, for one of them would die as a consequence. Some old women in Apefranthos recall that they used to read the yalou prayer (khart£ tsi yalous) so that the exotikd would not come to strangle their children at night. The yalou prayer is partly a saints' legend and partly an

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exorcism directed at the yalou who is forced, in the story itself, to reveal her many names to SS. Sisinios and lsidoros (or the Archangel Michael) who then vanquish her. Below are some excerpts from an Apeiranthos yalou prayer dating from the last century (published in Oikonomidis 1940: 65ff.). It tells of a woman named Melitini who bore six children, all of whom were killed by the yalou. She then gave birth to a seventh child, a boy named Avgo6zis, whom she sought to protect by building a tower. Soon thereafter her brothers, SS. Sisinios and Isidoros, returned from battle and went to visit their sister. Arriving at midnight at the tower they called the woman to let them in. But she did not agree and she called out, "I am not going to open for you, brothers, because I am afraid of the strfngla the yalou." They responded, "Sister, have no fear." And so straightaway she descended and opened to them. But as they entered the most filthy yalou arrived and entered and as they slept she killed lovely Avgolizis. In the morning the mother awoke and found her dead child and began to lament inconsolably and with tears she said, '' Ach. My brothers what did you do to me? The stringla the yalou has strangled my child." (p. 67)

The brothers then set off to track down the yalou. When they closed in on her she attempted to fly away but the saints turned into hawks and captured her. They beat and tortured her until she told them her twenty names that then served as a phylactery to safeguard all innocents from her attacks. 13 The Archangel Michael arrived as they were releasing her and said: "Where are you headed filthy one (miard)?" And she responds, "Saint Angel, do not make me suffer and I shall tell you the whole truth. I inhabit the seventy-twoand-a-half parts of a person and I enter into houses as a snake, and as a serpent and as a winged lizard and I drink women's milk. I claw at the eyes of small children, and I strangle infants. I hurl fruit down from trees and I dive into the sea and pull many under so that they drown." Then the Archangel Michael says to her, "Say your names, unclean one." Then the filthy one says, "St. Angel, the saints wrote them all down." Then the Archangel said to her, "I exorcise you in the name of God, the maker of the heaven and earth and all things, [He] whom all saints, angels and archangels, thrones, dominions, powers, the many-eyed Cherubim and the seven-winged Seraphim (standing around Him in fear, terror and triumph), the Holy Apostles, and the choruses of all saints praise. May you disappear from this servant of God, always, now and forever unto the ages of ages. Amen." (p. 70)

In all these accounts of demonic attacks on infants and their mothers, the lines of conflict are clearly drawn between the forces of good (represented by holy water, cane crosses, crossed bread, or the saints) and the forces of evil (the yalou or Devil). In the exorcism contained in the yalou prayer the supernatural forces on the side of God are enumerated in what amounts to an image of the universe. These forces are invoked against the solitary demon yalou in this case, but the implication is that this demon belongs to a large opposing

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force of evil that also has a cosmological basis. Indeed, the conflict between good and evil is played out on all levels: from that of the individual whose noble soul (or spirit) strives against the weaker flesh (Rom. 7:14, 18; Gal. 5:16ff.), through the values of Christianity that are contested in daily life by the forces of the Devil, up to the cosmic struggle between good and evil hemispheres. A well-known passage from Paul's letter to the Ephesians supports this view: Because the struggle for us is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness (kosmokrdtoras tou skOtous) of this world against spirits of wickedness in the heavens (epouranfois). (Eph 6:12ff.)

Admittedly these are concisely expressed theological ideas. The world is not always and only perceived animistically as swarming with good and evil spirits engaged in combat. Consciously most Naxiotes would disavow and attempt to disassociate themselves from any such view on the grounds that it is too religious and too incompatible with certain common-sense natural science ideas. These New Testament formulations do, nonetheless, inform-if only semiconsciously-the villagers' understanding of the world. Tales of miracles and the exotika provide ample evidence that the struggle between good and evil is indeed conceived in cosmological terms. THE SPIRITS OF PLACE

Numerous accounts express the conception that evil spirits dwell in matter or in nature. Iannis Detsis told of a well that he and his brothers dug years ago in the village of Apefranthos. Every day their mother brought them lunch at their workplace. One day she fell ill. Her jaws simply locked and she could not open her mouth to speak or eat. After a couple of weeks they had to take her to hospital in Athens because her life was in danger. There she was fed intravenously until six months later she was able to open her mouth a little and take some food. They brought her back to Naxos but she remained a skeleton of herself. She spent most of the next two years in bed, refusing all company. One night, when all were sleeping, she went out and threw herself into the well. Some people heard shouts and called her family, who pulled her out with great difficulty. They put her to bed and the next day she recovered her voice and full use of her jaw. She said that she jumped into the well because she had seen two bearded men in a dream who told her to do so. She herself thought that her shadow (skid) had been trapped in the well at the time of its construction. By diving into the well she had reunited with her shadow. Who were the two men in the dream? Iannis did not know for sure. They may have been saints; one may have been Christ. This event bears a resemblance to the account of the construction of the main church in Apefranthos that required the shadow of the master builder's

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wife. Both cases apparently rest on the common assumption that there is an elemental spirit of the place that requires a human spirit as a sacrifice in recompense for allowing construction. 14 Houses are thought to have spirits (called lambidonia in Apefranthos), but these are not as frightening as the empty Venetian towers such as the pYrgos tis Paramanas that is positively haunted (stoikheiomeno). Crossroads and vaulted passageways within the village are also possessed by spirits, and one should make the sign of the cross with one's fingers if danger is anticipated. One outlying region of the village, reported to contain precious metals, is called Kalf Stoikheili. Here the two senses of stoike(o/stoikheio converge, for not only is this area rich in mineral deposits but it also teems with spirits. 15 It is said that these spirits mine the metals (chiefly gold) and transport them from the mountains to the eastern coast, where they ship them off the island. Black men (arapides; Appendix 1) act as servants and do most of the work. Their port is at a place called Peter's Jump. Some say that this port is named after Petros, a man who fell over the cliff there in his curiosity to get a glimpse of the black men loading cargo. A different version goes as follows: Zapetros was working in his fields with his daughter near Kleid6 [a region along the eastern coast south ofMoutso6na]. They finished toward evening and began to head back to Apeiranthos by donkey. Between Kanaki and Moutsouna, Petros and his daughter crossed over a bridge. He heard some bells below the bridge and told his daughter to carry on along the road, that he would catch up with her. So he went to see if maybe he couldn't find a goat to steal. He spotted a billy goat and followed it. It led him down the riverbed toward the sea. Here there were some cliffs. Petros followed, drew closer, and saw the goat disappear below him into a cave. He went to enter the cave, but the goat was waiting for him and butted him, and Petros fell over the cliff onto the rocks below. His head was split open on the rocks and there his brains poured out. Meanwhile his daughter, on donkey, approached the village. She arrived around sunrise, but no Petros. By evening his wife called Petros's brothers and sent them out in search of her husband. They took directions from their niece and began searching for Petros where he had left the road. Eventually they found him, washed up on the shore. They took the body and buried it right there on the spot, heaping up stones as a monument around it. They then returned to the village and told the news to their sister-in-law. Not having received a proper burial, Petros became a revenant (vourkolakkos). One day the shadow (skid) of Zapetros went to the farm hut of his friend Khatzoiannis. Now Khatzoiannis was not young but he was a really brave man and he didn't flinch on seeing Zapetros but just invited him in (even though he knew he was a revenant). 16 After sitting and chatting for a while Khatzoiannis invited Zapetros to accompany him to the village. They went along and drew close to the village, but at the last minute Zapetros turned around and fled.

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Khatzoiannis knew what he had to do. He called the priest and forced him to accompany him to Petros's grave. The priest was reluctant to come but was finally prevailed upon and went. At the grave the priest read the prayers for the deceased. With the first words (the invocation of the Holy Trinity) they heard a growling from within the grave. Then they heard an explosion. Petros's soul had burst.

The similarity between human spirits (skies, psykhes, pnevmata) and natural spirits (stoikheia) connects the tale of Peter's Jump with the story of Kall Stoikheia. The place spirits (stoikheia) turned Petros into one of their number, at least until the priest came and prayed for his soul. People understood the difference between the two types of spirits but were not always precise in their usage. They sometimes referred to human spirits as stoikheia. 11 THE DEVIL AND THE EXOTIKA: ANIMALS

The goat that pushed Petros over the cliff in an act of premeditated evil was said, by the man telling the story, to be a metamorphosis of the Devil. Whereas most events in the narrative were witnessed by other persons, the nature of the animal-indeed, the very suggestion that Petros did encounter an animal-is only a postulation. The Devil is introduced as a conspiratorial force in order to explain how a sane and healthy eo-villager could meet such a sudden, unfortunate end. Diabolical agency extends and animates these notions, just as the force of witchcraft is appealed to among the Azande to account for specific instances of misfortune (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 70). When things go awry it is said that "the Devil stuck in his tail" (0 diavolos evale tin oura tou) while cases of illness or bad death may receive, as we have seen, more elaborate explanations in terms of the Devil or his demonic metamorphoses. Such a perspective situates blame or fault beyond the individual whose honor and integrity may be preserved relatively intact, if not positively enhanced. Petros, for example, met his end engaged in the most masculine of pursuits, animal theft. Short of death at war, one can scarcely imagine a more honorable, if unfortunate, end. Billy goats may not be usual targets for theft, but they are one of the classic forms assumed by the Devil. This representation is supported in the New Testament (Matt. 25:32ff.) as well as by the iconographic convention of representing the Devil with goat features (Provatakis 1980: 240). As above, goats are not always seen; sometimes only a bell is heard as in the case of a young man serving in the army in northern Greece. One very dark night he heard a sheep/goat's bell and saw a light in the distance. He went closer, tracking the light and the sound of the bell. At a certain point he felt something was amiss and halted his steps. He looked carefully and found he was standing on the edge of a precipice. One step more and he would have plunged to his death. There was no doubt in his mind that this elusive light and bell were illusions sent by the Devil.

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Sophfa Kalogerou, from the village of K6ronos, told of a strange encounter her grandfather had on the way to Kh6ra. This was in the days before cars and he was traveling by donkey to buy provisions: My blessed grandfather would leave very early while it was still dark. [This particular incident happened around Christmas time.] Near Melanes a squealing sow was standing on the path blocking the way. He gave the pig a good whack across the snout with his cane in order to clear her out of the way and then carried on to Kh6ra where he spent most of the day. Returning toward evening by the same route he saw a veiled lady on the pathway. Let me say this was all in reality. This veiled lady then spoke to him. She said to my grandfather, "You killed me." But my grandfather couldn't understand. He didn't recognize her. She explained that she was a kallikdntzaros (Appendix 1). "I become a pig and go around. Don't you remember this morning when you came by and beat me with your stick?'' In the end the woman did not harm grandfather because he did not know she was a person.

Accounts of the exotikd assuming animal forms merge with perceptions of the Devil, who may also appear as a variety of animals. In some cases it is never made clear whether an evil supernatural force manifesting itself as an animal is the Devil or an exotikO. A young man from Phil6ti was thrown from his mule as he was crossing a stream at midnight. When he came to his senses he found a donkey wandering nearby and rode it back to the village. The next day he died, never recovering his voice. The donkey, which later vanished, was said to have caused his death. Formal convergence and a general lack of concern (on the villagers' part) with establishing the exact name and provenance of an attacking force furnish strong grounds for considering the exotikd and the Devil together as one fluid category, not as two (or more) discrete entities. Once an attack has occurred people do not resort to different treatments or therapies that would indicate a distinction between the Devil and the exotikd. True, the Devil is more likely to be diagnosed by Church officials or in specifically Christian contexts (i.e., during a feast or fast period such as Easter or the Metamorphosis of Christ) while the exotikd are referred to in secular situations. The very same event may be interpreted variously by clerics and laypeople. A woman in Kh6ra said to be possessed by demons (daimonismeni) was taken both to a priest to be exorcised and to a doctor. The Church, in fact, encourages such a dual course of action. MORALITY AND THE EXOTIKA

Attacks attributed to the exotikd sometimes occur unprovoked by any evident moral misdeed. The fault of the young man thrown from his donkey seems

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only to have been his folly in trying to cross a stream around the hour of midnight. In numerous other cases, the exotikd simply strike those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. True, this may in itself be construed as a general warning to people to stay within certain socially accepted temporal and spatial boundaries. In other cases immoral action may be figured in the account itself as in the stories told by Kyria Sophfa examined earlier. In both of these the wife lives to tell the story of her husband's adultery and how this leads to his death. The punishment for excessive erotic interest and sexual practice is painful impotence and death; the offending sexual organs are precisely the part afflicted. These stories are a warning to men who deny a normal family life and sexual relationship to their wives in favor of long periods of time away at their huts tending sheep. These stories tell of the physical ruin such a choice may bring. Another story related by the same informant, Kyria Sophfa, emphasizes material ruin. There was a neighbor who had so many sheep and goats-some five hundred head-that everyone wondered how he could tend them alone. He made the mistake oftelling Kyria Sophia that he kept company with nerai'des. As in the other stories, such an admission spells downfall. One must keep such matters secret. Kyria Sophfa went and told the man's wife. He was married but he didn't have any children. On important holidays such as Easter or the beginning of Lent he wouldn't bother to go to the village to be with his wife. She complained, "I married a husband. Why should I always be so filled with yearning?" After I told her she decided to straighten out matters and pay him a visit at midday up on the high mountains where he was shepherding. When the nerai'da saw the wife coming she muttered to the shepherd, "I'm going to ruin you" (tha se kdpso). Even before the wife could reach the hut the nereid had disappeared. When she arrived he cursed her, "Woman you shouldn't have come. Now I'm ruined.'' Whereas before the nerai'da had taken care of his animals, now she let them all go free. The man was ruined within three days. All of his animals were dead and he died as well.

Nerai'des at once oppose and support the position of women in Naxiote society. They may compete with mortal women by seducing their men, but the fear that nereid accounts inspire could conceivably discourage men from seeking adulterous company or otherwise neglecting their families. These two aspects are separated in time. At the moment of a nereid attack the position of women is threatened, while in retrospect, when the attack is recounted, the example of the nereid reinforces the proper social domain of women. By definition every account is post hoc and one is free to question whether any of the

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events ever did take place. Certainly the authenticity of these attacks is secondary to their framing in an interpretive, moral framework. Yet this moral framework does not solely serve the interests of women by frightening men into proper and obedient action. It allows men to assert that their failings were prompted by an exterior demonic force rather than by their own internal moral weakness. A strong religious and ethical constitution does ideally protect one from demonic attack, but the fact of an attack is not an automatic sign of irreligiosity or immorality. This is a point that the surrounding community assesses. When immoral social action and illness are said to be the work of demons, this may exonerate the individuals involved, removing any doubt that their condition is their own personal and moral responsibility. Private guilt is also less likely to arise, and although one may be shamed before the community, it may still be possible to retain a respectable social standing. This much said, the exotika may be viewed as a set of moral themes upheld by the society at large and historically devolving within particular communities. They are not the property of any delimited interest group such as men, women, or the Church. The very same story may simultaneously support the position and viewpoint of each of these groups (Stewart 1985a: 233, for males; Skouteri-Didaskalou 1988, for females). The story of Andreas potentially fits with the Church's view by showing the dire consequences of transgressing a moral directive. It might also confirm the male view of experience (which accommodates adultery) by excusing Andreas: he did not know it was not his wife and besides he was overcome by an irresistible superhuman force. It is not his fault that he gave in; his honor is preserved if not enhanced. Finally, the tale of Andreas could be seen to safeguard the position of Naxiote women by serving as an admonitory example to men who would forsake their wives. It must be stressed that all of these interpretations are possible simultaneously among the various members of an audience hearing such a story. Men may be a more powerful social group than women, yet it should not be thought that this dominance in the realm of social relations entails a corresponding monopoly on the production and interpretation of symbols. E. Ardener (1975: 5) has suggested that the study of symbolism uncovers certain valuations of women-some of which make more sense if women, not men, had made them (they conflict with the social models of men) .... I here contend that much of this symbolism enacts that female model which has been lacking, and which is different from the models of men in a particular dimension: the placing of the boundary between society and nature.

One must only be careful not to overstate this position and conclude that symbols such as the nereids belong only to females and exclusively express female models. Certainly there exist contexts-say a kitchen in which only women are gathered-where these stories might call forth female-oriented sorts of interpretation to the exclusion of all others. For the most part, however, nereid

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or exotika accounts may be told in any context to mixed or even wholly male audiences. The interpretation of these symbols, their provisional meaning, is not determined in advance by the gender of the listener, but rather by considerations of context and audience composition. The exotika are a form of knowledge that is the common possession of the society at large. The views of socially subordinate groups, called "muted" groups by some anthropologists (S. Ardener 1975: xi), coexist with the views of superordinate groups. The question becomes to what extent, if at all, women are capable of disengaging and asserting their interpretation as distinct from the models of other, perhaps superordinate groups (du Boulay 1986: 153). Since all groups may hold the same or different perceptions of a representation such as the nereids, there is no a priori reason to presume that either a dominant or subordinate group has actually created the symbol, still less that it monopolizes it. An image such as the nereid is perhaps most of all an image that enables the expression and negotiation of sensitive issues of gender and sexuality; it is a medium for the community's dialogue with itself (Taggart 1990: 222). THE EcLIPSE OF THE EXOTIKA

Today it is difficult to collect accounts of the exotika. Public interest in these demons appears to be on the wane, although one may speculate that Church proscriptions have always caused people to exercise restraint in discussing them. Certainly rapid technological progress since the Second World War has complicated matters. The villagers aspire to modernity (eksyngkhronism6s) and accordingly show a reverence for rational, scientific explanation. This is not so much a result of their own grasp of logic-still less of scientific empiricism itself-as it is a question of social groups and their interrelations. The villagers are acutely aware that beliefs in the exotika are seen by the educated sector of society, which is primarily middle class and urban, as laughable signs of backwardness. One assimilates such a view from eo-villagers who have lived in Athens or from television and radio where uncouth rural folk often serve as the butt of jokes. Tales about the exotika are thus repressed, especially in the presence of educated outsiders (e.g., the anthropologist), so that one does not appear a laughing-stock. A number of potential informants denied any knowledge of the exotika in my presence as they thought the object of my enquiries was to expose their ignorance. Frequently the information that I did manage to collect was accompanied by disclaimers: "Some people say ... "; "I don't know how much of this is true, but since you 're interested. . . .'' These were common rhetorical devices in the transmission of accounts of the supernatural that may reflect the uncertainty the people themselves harbor as to the veracity of the tales, but that also served to distance and thus protect the teller from too close an association with the events (Bennett 1987: 213; Favret-Saada 1980: 15ff.). The villagers in this

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case (not the anthropologist) denied their own coevalness (Hastrup 1987: 103). Others expressed the opinion that such stories were simply "lies." It is worth noting that the word for "fairy tale" in modem Greek, paramythi, may also mean "lie." Many accounts analyzed above reported events that occurred forty or more years earlier. This may have been one more device for dissociating oneself from those events. The span of forty to fifty years may, however, be of particular significance. This is roughly the period of time separating two generations. I was often told to seek out old folks or a grandfather if I wished to learn anything about the exotikil. The willingness to entertain these demons seemed to define a generational divide: the old folks likely to believe, the middle-age set very unlikely to believe, and the young age set (15-35) sometimes interested but unlikely to express the unreserved conviction of the oldest age set. 18 The oldest age set was also the group most involved with Orthodoxy (Hirschon 1989: 226), suggesting that firm belief in God implies a willingness to consider the exotikil as a serious threat. This situation reinforces my general contention that the exotikil do indeed form part of a moral and cosmological structure. Apparently the passing of the oldest generation will mark the end of the exotikil. Yet such an unreserved assumption possibly neglects consideration of the nature of generational time, which is cyclical rather than linear. 19 Certain beliefs are appropriate only to the older age set. Still, it remains to be seen if and how the present middle generation will adopt the exotikil when in ten or twenty years they join this oldest age set. There is a strong possibility that, even if generational time does provide an accurate model of how the exotikil have been carried on over the past century or longer, certain irreversible changes have recently occurred that will inhibit the repetition of the cycle yet another time. Again the period of forty to fifty years may be significant, this time in a historical rather than generational respect. Such a span takes us back to the eve of the Second World War and marks a watershed, an epistemological coupure, in the experience of life on the island. Emigration, education, integration into the national monetary economy, and the corresponding breakdown of the relatively self-sufficient peasant economy on the island had begun in the two decades before the war. In the two decades following the war it became clear that these trends were irreversible. Advances in technology and medicine radically transformed life on the island and throughout the country. Whereas the average life expectancy for someone born in Greece in 1870 was thirty-six years, in 1960 it was sixtynine years (Kolodny 1974 2: 611). Many of the diseases that had been conceptualized in terms of supernatural agency by earlier generations (Kephalliniadis 1978b; cf. Abbott 1903: 236) no longer posed a threat. In 1936, 33 percent of all deaths in Greece were caused by infectious or parasitic diseases; in 1969 this was down to 4 percent (Ko-

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lodny 1974 2: 615). In the 1920s the introduction of vaccinations virtually wiped out diphtheria and tetanus, while malaria was eradicated with the help of DDT (last reported case in Greece, 1959). Tuberculosis, which accounted for nearly 8 percent of all deaths in the islands before the war, was brought under control by streptomycin (introduced in 1948), lowering its percentage of deaths to less than one percent by 1969. Furthermore, by 1970 there was one doctor for every 878 inhabitants in the Aegean islands and one hospital bed for every 104 (Kolodny 1974 2: 622). New technology and the effects of the restructured island economy mediated against the production of exotiktl tales in other ways. Nowadays milled flour is imported. The windmills, water mills, and threshing floors that were once prime points of contact with the neraiaes now stand abandoned. Formerly, it had been necessary for people to thresh and then mill their grain at odd hours, and sometimes to spend the night at the mill or threshing floor. Stories such as that of the miller who witnessed the nereids dancing at a threshing floor until they disappeared at cockcrow seem anachronistic today. In their own fashion, the people themselves invoke technological change to account for the demise of the exotiktl. A man from Tsikalari6 contended that people often used to see the demons up until the main island road was built. Now the lights of the cars scare them away. 20 A woman from Phil6ti pointed out that in days gone by there were no street lamps. Once the coffee shops closed at night the main square was dark and ''you were afraid to go there.'' In Apeiranthos the last well-remembered incident involving an exotikO centered around a dark figure that roamed the alleyways at night. People thought it was a strfngla until one evening a brave man challenged her and found that she was just a senile old black-clad woman who had taken to wandering around late at night. Doubt was similarly cast on the woman who claimed to have seen the Panagia walking in the village at night. Both this and the incident with the black-clad woman were attributed to the bad lighting on village roads. It seems that the exotiktl are on the way to being rationalized out of existence. Yet once-commanding figures of thought do not just vanish without a trace and many people still weighed all evidence carefully. !armis Detsis, age seventy-five, who gave the earlier account of his mother's possession by the spirit of the well, exemplifies this wavering between acceptance and rejection of the exotiktl. He told of a friend of his grandmother's who was beaten up and hurled to the ground by demonic forces (diaoliktl) when she went to mill some grain. She returned in a state of shock and died three days later. He then continued, describing a time he went to Psili Ammos (on the coast south of Moutsouna) to collect a load of hay. Although it was a clear night, a lightning bolt suddenly struck very close to him, frightening his donkey away. Simultaneously he heard a loud shrieking (stringlia) and understood that it was an exotikO or some demonic force. He drew out his black-handled knife and held

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it in his left hand. He said that when one holds a black-handled knife thus, it wards off the demons. He took the donkey's tail in his right hand and finished walking to the village. 21 On arriving at his house he left the donkey at the door and went straight to bed. His brothers guessed what had happened and unloaded the hay. The next day he did not utter a word until after midday. One should not speak, he said, because the demons might steal one's voice. He then followed these accounts with another that expressed his reservations. His damascene plum tree was coming into fruit and he went to sleep beneath it so that no one would steal the fruit. He saw a few children who might have been up to no good and scared them away with the toss of a stone. Later he saw some strange movements. He feared that they might be exotika but in fact it was only some branches swaying. He slept there for several nights without further incident. In recounting these events Iannis's tone was one of caution, as were his actions at the time. He admitted that he himself had never seen an exotiko. His final verdict was, "I don't know if these things exist; nobody knows for sure." Many people, both young and old, find themselves in the same quandary. They take an agnostic view of the exotika, which (as it is essentially a passive stance) accounts for why these beings are infrequent topics of discussion. They do not surface in everyday conversation. When asked directly, many of those who have grave doubts do not deny the existence of the exotika outright. To do so would inauspiciously invite direct attack. "Just believe and don't investigate" (pfsteve kai min erevna), goes the well-known proverb. And this seems to hold as much for the Christian holies as for the exotika. To do otherwise may provoke catastrophe. The story is told, and sworn to be true, of a man who, on a wager, agreed to drive a nail into a grave. He and his companions had been discussing the village belief that to do so is to invite attack from the spirit of the deceased (stoikheio, an unusual usage of this term that, as we have seen, usually refers to elemental spirits). Well on in their drinking, they trooped directly down to the graveyard. The man drove the nail in but as his breeches were very loose and long he inadvertently sent the nail through the material, thus pinning himself to the grave. He tried to stand up to move away but could not. Thinking the spirit had grabbed hold of him by the leg, he panicked and died immediately of a heart attack. Both the rational testing of the existence of the exotika and the increasing appeal to logicoempirical models to explain events formerly accounted for in terms of the supernatural at once deepen and depend on the perception of these accounts as ''lies.'' Yet among certain segments of the population a degree of receptivity toward these tales persists. And it should be noted that throughout Greece, in all layers of society, people seem to cling to a very large number of small apotropaic practices (prolipseis). 22 Granted the ethos of cunning deception in a place like Apeiranthos, it is not

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surprising that the exotikd have been appropriated at the local level as a manipulative discourse, making them "lies" in the common sense of the word. They are used by a cunning operator to sway credulous people and convince them of certain opinions that are advantageous to the teller. The Greek government seems to recognize this state of affairs and in the national advertising code (articles 3.1-2) it is declared that "advertisements must not, without reason, exploit public fears. Advertisements must not exploit the (apotropaic) superstitions (proUpseis) and the (religious, spiritual) superstitions (deisidaimonfes) of people." 23 Note that Greek has two separate words that can only fairly be translated into English as ''superstition.'' Such a split between those convinced of the efficacy of the exotikd and cynics who exploit them seems also to have existed in the past (Pashley 1837 2: 255-56), as an eighteenth-century account from Kh6ra reveals. The author of this chronicle, a certain Dragoumis, writes: I remember the daughters of a certain miller living next door to me. These two beauties, either through their own machinations or to protect their lovers, used to come to the window in the morning and, pretending to be frightened, exclaim how "two terrifying vampires had entered into the house causing a great disturbance, thrashing around left and right and they grunted and . . . they discovered and abducted and tormented us unfortunates all night long.'' The poor miller, their father, believed in vampires and would lock himself in his room while the daughters did their own thing, not, of course, with skeletons and smallpox vampires 24 but with the two young men "the two night crows," their lovers. It seems that someone, somehow instilled a little courage in the miller who one evening decided to shoot the ... vampires at the moment when they were leaving. But the miller was not successful except at effecting a breathless stillness. It was the one evening on which the simple miller's two daughters were really afraid lest the "dirty old man"-as they probably referred to him deep downshould kill their ... vampires. (Kephalliniadis 1978b)

In the present day, elaborate exotikd accounts are always weighed for what they might be concealing. 25 Shepherds at Agios The6s in the district of Phil6ti said that thieves tell the most stories about exotikd for two reasons: (1) people will be afraid to venture out at night and will thus be unlikely to catch them stealing; (2) if people do see them they will think they are exotikd and not attempt to identify them and bring charges of theft. In Komiaki once, a group of cunning operators (mdnges) took advantage of a shepherd who had recently lost his brother and father. They went and hid near his fold and in the evening they called out to him in numinous-sounding voices, "Bring the sheep so we can clip them." In fright, the shepherd, who thought they were revenants, fled. The mdnges then divided his sheep among themselves. In Ape{trulthos a young man explained the origins of his nickname, Gav-

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rilis. It originally belonged to his grandfather on whom it was bestowed during the Italian occupation in the early 1940s. Everyone in the village was starving and the grandfather, along with a friend, went late one night to steal grapes from the courtyard of a house in the village. He climbed on top of the trellis above the door of the house just in case the owner should come out. The partner was down below cutting grapes and trying to be as quiet as possible. At a certain point, however, the owner awoke and emerged to find out what was going on. He could not see very well as he had just woken up, so swift action was called for before they were recognized. The one cutting grapes called out, "Throw down red-hot ash Gabriel and burn him to a crisp" (Rfxe, Gavriil, pyrini stakhti kai katekaps' ton). The grandfather made a rustling in the trellis above the owner's head and the latter did not linger to find out more. He fled and they finished their thieving unmolested. From then on the grandfather was called Gavn1is. Although in this example the thief pretended to be an angel rather than a demon, the principle is the same. The supernatural serves as an idiom for deceiving the credulous. The exotika have shifted from a category of knowledge and explanation of the world to a less fearsome, pragmatic means of manipulating people and getting about in the world. At this point the question may be asked, "If the exotika are no longer actively believed in, nor even seriously discussed or entertained, what status could they possibly have as indicators of the contemporary Greek worldview?'' The technological advances of the past fifty years have largely removed the exotika from the surface level of daily discourse, and these same innovations have also effected radical changes in the fabric of Greek society. But it seems unlikely that the ideological space that the exotika have occupied for so long should suddenly cease to exist. Illustration 15 testifies very directly to this issue. It is a drawing done by a young man whom I came upon at two o'clock in the morning in the village bar. He and I were well acquainted and I knew that he was not exceptionally religious nor did such things as exotika loom very large in his life. Indeed, as an unmarried male he belonged to the group I have identified as the least likely to take an interest in religion. He had just been released from the army and stood at a very uncertain point in his life. Could he find work in the village, or should he move to Athens? These depressing thoughts coupled with the effects of alcohol to spontaneously produce a cosmological sketch of his predicament. Naxos remains an Orthodox island community-as Greece remains an Orthodox state-and the exotika continue to occupy a space in Greek cosmology even if contemporary society is largely mute on this point. Yet just because certain words are not often voiced does not mean that the concepts to which they refer are nonexistent. 26 The problem of evil and the experience of random misfortune are perennial.

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15. Drawing (on a cigarette box) by a young man from Apefranthos. On the left is a horizontal person (whom he claimed to be himself or any other living person) beneath whom is written, ''I am sleeping.'' Above is the route to paradise through a number of lit candles across which he has written, "closed." At the top of all this stand the words "Will of God." To the right is a chute leading to helllabeled "always open." At the far right it reads, "everything to the Devil."

Pocock (1985: 42ff.) has made precisely this point in relation to the English word "evil" used adjectivally (especially of persons). According to the OED (s. v. evil), this usage is obsolete, having been replaced by the more moderate term, ''bad.'' Pocock traces this development to a general relativizing of values running parallel with the development of capitalism (cf. Schneider 1990). In the modem era people have become less and less confident that any individual controls and sufficiently represents the spectrum of morality to pronounce the acts or the nature of another ''evil.'' The general public outcry at President Reagan's labeling of the Soviet Union as an "evil empire" substantiates this contention perfectly, much to the ire of those such as Allan Bloom who still find nothing wrong with moral absolutism (Bloom 1987: 141f.). Pocock contends that "evil" may not be voiced, but it nonetheless remains a vital pole of moral judgment. People have ideas as to what it is and still measure by it. It may be that the exotikti are referred to most in moments of crisisY Consider, for example, the following funeral lament (moirol6i) that I heard in

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1983. It was sung by the widow of a beloved cafe owner who was killed when the car in which he was a passenger went off the road just outside the village. The word mavromoira is a double entendre in the poem. It refers both to the supernatural being mo(ra (fate; Appendix 1) and to an area of the village called Mavromoires (Black Fates). The driver of the car in which the cafe owner was killed came from this part of the village. It was also the scene of another accident, years earlier, where both of the widow's parents were killed. M£ 'cjn'JxEV TJ MatJQO!WLQU AQij>avT) xm 'tcOQU XTJQU.

Mavromoira has left me An orphan and now a widow.

The moral task that such ideas perform, that of reconciling failure and misfortune with human honor and dignity in a world deemed fundamentally to be under the guidance of a beneficent God, will in all probability persist, at least as long as the society remains Christian. Even after that they will probably be conserved in some new configuration, just as they were carried over from pagan antiquity into the Christian period more than a millennium and a half ago. Indeed the notion of demons (daimones) as well as various of the named exotikd (nerai'des, stringles, etc.) were categories in ancient Greek thought even before Christianity rearranged the structure of Greek ideology, setting them in the distinctive position that they now occupy.

CHAPTER FOUR

Modernization and Rationality In the first place we are not honest with ourselves. Few like to admit

that they adopt new ways because they want to rise to a higher social status or fear to drop to a lower one--in short that they are snobs. -"Snobbery," A. M. Hocart

IN THE PRECEDING chapter we saw how medical and technological innovation has contributed to the displacement of the demonic as a model for explaining natural phenomena. 1 Many of the diseases once conceived as demonic attacks have been eradicated, and various daily practices involving points in the physical environment formerly thought to attract demonic interference are no longer performed. Technology has thoroughly modified existence, leaving the exotikd few open questions to answer and virtually no space in which to manifest themselves. On a cognitive level, it appears that knowledge of natural scientific paradigms has replaced reference to the exotikd. If, for example, one is capable of grasping the idea that on clear nights lightning may be caused by static electricity, then there is no need to explain it in terms of teloneia (Appendix 1) as Naxiote fishermen once did, nor in terms of diaolikd as Iannis Detsis was seen to do earlier. To assert that modernization in general has supplanted the exotikd probably does not arouse any immediate objections. But what does such a statement really mean? By what specific mechanisms is this process effected? Does a rationalist, cognitive model that, to be perfectly consistent, would have to be an individualist model, explain everything? Is it the case that people weigh and balance the respective merits of various models, scientific and demonic, before dispensing with one and adopting the other? In my view it seems unlikely that this should be the sole mechanism, or even the most important one. On a daily basis ridicule and affectivity are more apparent and probably more immediately felt forces prompting the suppression of the exotikd as a vital body of thought. In practice, the exotikd are vanishing amidst sounds of mockery; they are being blotted out by emotions such as embarrassment, not by the action of silent contemplation leading to enlightenment. To remove emphasis from scientific knowledge alone and in itself as the primary force behind conceptual change is not to banish it from the picture

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altogether. The social pressure that I am elevating above it in this account arises in especially impinging ways precisely as a concomitant of industrial and technological advance. This whole complex of interrelated phenomena, including urbanization, industrialization, mass production, capitalism, social stratification according to classes, and formation of nation states can loosely be termed modernity; the process of implementing it, modernization. 2 This does not mean that before modernization Greece could be characterized as strictly traditional; certainly the country was not primitive. In some respects it may already have been modem. It was just not as fully modem as it would become through a process of development that is still continuing. It should be noted that several European countries, foremost of all England, had begun to modernize well in advance of Greece. These nations stood as models for, as well as direct contributors to, Greek development, which subsequently followed its own unique course. 3 That both technology and the whole condition of modernity (eksyngkhronism6s) are believed to exist in more refined forms elsewhere exemplifies a principle that is replicated at many levels-from the international to the interpersonal. Modernity is always beyond the borders, whether these be of Athens, a provincial town, a village, or a particular household. More precisely, since the possession of modernity is usually entwined with prosperity and material advantage, its acquisition, insofar as the Greek experience is concerned, has always been about a subordinate group attempting to assimilate to the standards of a superordinate group. THE MYTH OF RATIONALITY

Consider the belief, widely attested in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Greece, that strong gusts of wind or whirlwinds were caused by nera.i"des or other exotika that generated such phenomena through dancing. 4 Nowadays one rarely hears meteorological events explained in terms of supernatural agency. There are weather stations all over the country, including one on Naxos. Greek meteorologists have access to information from satellites as well as from these outlying stations that allows them to predict weather conditions. The average villager possesses only a vague understanding of the principles of meteorology, but it is known that this science is based on natural principles and not on an understanding of exotika. That meteorology is upheld by respected members of the society and given space on television and radio creates a predisposition to accept its validity. This authority usurps most effort on the part of the villagers to formulate their own predictions. Only a few shepherds and farmers retain the sensitive and elaborate classification of winds and other phenomena mentioned in Chapter 2. Instead, the acceptance of meteorology-medicine and psychology, as technological discourses, do not constitute radically different cases-has substituted for a commitment to the empirical observation of nature.

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It could be argued that there is nothing irrational in this procedure. If weather forecasts are indeed correct people may be expected to notice, verify, and trust in them. There would thus be an aspect of empirical testing and rational consideration underlying the conviction in the efficacy of meteorological science. But are weather forecasts in fact that accurate? Lacking statistics on Greek weather reports I will cite figures from a study of recent British forecasts. I think it fair to assume that British forecasting is not significantly more or less accurate than Greek forecasting. Over the past four years British forecasts of the next day's weather were correct only 38 percent of the time, while in almost one-quarter of the sample the weather conditions on the following day were entirely different from the prediction. Two-day outlooks were correct only 22 percent of the time and erroneous or completely wrong 60 percent of the time. 5 In light of these figures, it is hard to believe that meteorology constitutes much of an improvement over traditional, indigenous means of forecasting. This is not to say that meteorology and the communications network that enables it are not immensely advantageous in maritime contexts such as fishing and shipping. On an everyday basis in a mountain village, however, meteorology is embraced as part of a larger modem package. Significantly weather forecasts appeal foremost to those not engaged in agricultural pursuits, particularly to those who have office jobs. The inclination toward meteorology is not only determined by changes brought about through technological advance (modernization, decreased contact with nature) but it also becomes an indicator of a rational, modem lifestyle. The shift in favor of the meteorologist is, at best, an example of secondorder rationality; it proceeds on the assumption that meteorological forecasting is valid .. First-order rationality would demand that each individual master and apply the principles of meteorology or some other empirical science, and be able to explain exactly how and why it works and why this mechanism excludes the possibility of the operation of animate supernatural forces. The concept of pure or first-order rationality presupposes an individual in direct confrontation with nature. This actor, like all other individuals, is able to interpret experience and derive knowledge on the basis of a capacity to reason. Every member of society should be able to perform such operations; all are equal. This model of rationality is consistent with the tenets of liberty and progress so vital to the notion of democratic government. It supports Western social and political ideals so completely that it may be likened to a "myth" (B. Barnes 1985: 86). But this myth has come under attack, notably in the area of the hard sciences long thought to be the inviolable preserve of reason. The research of Thomas Kuhn (1970) and subsequent studies suggest that scientists do not operate as perfectly rational individuals, but rather as a highly cohesive group, socialized to pursue certain research programs before others in a way that biases the direct observation of nature. If the strict notion

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of rationality fails in the sciences, surely it must fail in the social sciences as well. At the risk of oversimplifying, I present the main point in broad outline. Let us say that there is a continuum spanning from knowledge based on empirical, individual observation to collectively inculcated opinion. The individual pole is the perspective associated with rationality, the collective pole that of custom (irrationality, emotion, prejudice when described by those idealizing rationality). Along with Kuhn (1970: 210) I would view the empirical pole as an ideal that is never realized in practice. First-order rationality is a chimera. This is not to advocate total relativism. Knowledge of nature is still possible, and certain observations are demonstrably more accurate than others. Just because ideal rationality does not exist does not mean that there is no such thing as critical thought. Yet all knowledge is to some degree tinged by collective values and predispositions. All rationality is at best second-order rationality. The situation may be represented as follows: A

B---------------------~c

+

+

1st order

2nd order

+ collective

As all knowledge is colored by communally shared conceptions (preconceptions in some views), it is formulated somewhere between points Band Con the continuum. At the far end of the scale, as we approach point C, knowledge shades into belief, custom, forms of thought that are inculcated by a society or a smaller group and are not subjected to critical examination. Assent to the ideal of pure rationality gives rise to the conviction that there is an opposed and defining sphere of knowledge and procedure that is irrational. Thought that is not rational is irrational-influenced by social pressures, prejudice, and emotion. For the reasons outlined above I do not think we are bound to this dualist view. All knowledge is to some degree affected by collective as well as individual (psychological) predispositions. There is no fully rational as opposed to irrational knowledge; there is just knowledge, some forms of which derive from a more critical testing of propositions than others. The general critique of rationality sketched above suggests that we may not simply gloss over the eclipse of the exotilai with the blithe assertion that (superior) models from natural science, when rudimentarily grasped, necessarily and automatically supplant all credence in the operation of supernatural powers. Granted that all knowledge is to some degree social, we must in the first instance look to social factors, at least as much as to logical processes, in order to comprehend change. The adaptation of new forms of knowledge, especially

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where they seem directly to replace old forms, must be accounted for in social terms (Overing 1985: 3). Y~Ol:: THE HEGEMONY OF STYLE

Let us turn now to the contention that the exotika have served, and continue to serve, as a marker distinguishing social groups and consequently should be examined as an element of style. Formulation of the problematic in these terms reflects the influence of Bourdieu (1986), who has provided a masterly, if prolix, account of Parisian society in terms of taste and distinction, the former of which he defines as follows: Taste is a practical mastery of distributions which makes it possible to sense or intuit what is likely (or unlikely) to befall-and therefore to befit-an individual occupying a given position in social space. It functions as a sort of social orientation, a "sense of one's place," guiding the occupants of a given place in social space towards the social positions adjusted to their properties, and towards the practices or goods which befit the occupants of that position. It implies a practical anticipation of what the social meaning and value of the chosen practice or thing will probably be, given their distribution in social space and the practical knowledge the other agents have of the correspondence between goods and groups. ( 1986: 466--67)

In his account, Bourdieu attends mainly to the operation of taste and preference in distinguishing one's position in the social field. This position is expressed through the production and appropriation (by which he means the adoption of what is "appropriate") of cultural capital (valuable symbols). This model is proposed on the basis of the two places where Bourdieu has conducted research-late capitalist France and the relatively traditional Algeria of the 1960s, both of which, although for different reasons, exhibit a degree of stability conducive to a synchronic analysis. While aware of factors such as social mobility (pp. 132ff.) and social change (pp. 156ff.), he plays these down, preferring to emphasize the perennial reproduction of an overall structure of relations (p. 156). What matters is the fact of "distinction" (p. 479), the maintenance of disjunctions, set spaces between respective tastes, not so much the particular tastes, although these must be described carefully in order to establish the disjunctions. Diachronically a society will inevitably change in appearance and the markers of differing tastes will vary, but this occurs proportionally, reproducing the overall structure. Below I shall present a diachronic perspective on a single marker of distinction (the exotika) in a country that has undergone radical changes over the past century. In a developing country such as Greece, there is a great deal of traffic and transaction among styles. This is so because of the exceptional mobility and fluidity of social groups. Greece effectively falls in between Bourdieu's rural Algeria or other ''traditional'' societies on the one hand, where social

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status exhibits a ranked fixity, and Paris on the other, where the developmental process has already divided the society into prominent and recognizable classes and groups that reproduce themselves with almost sclerotic invariance. Greece has gone from being a 62 percent rural society in 1920 to a 30 percent rural society in 1980. These figures, when considered in conjunction with the numbers of those temporarily emigrating to places like West Germany (roughly 60,000/year between 1960 and 1980), and those pursuing higher education in Greece and abroad (approximately 150,000 at present), suggest that a significant percentage of the population has not reproduced itself in class terms over the past two generations. In fact, there has been a massive movement from the laboring agricultural class into the ranks of the urban proletariat, the middle class, and especially the petit bourgeoisie. Social replication in Greece does not therefore evince all the regularities to which Bourdieu' s model is suited. As a sign of this divergence, "appropriation" in the Greek context should be viewed as more in line with its standard semantic acceptation in English-as ''taking something over'' regardless of whether this thing is indeed immediately appropriate. Gramsci's (1971: 12) notion of hegemony illuminates the process by which subordinate groups absorb the values of dominant groups and may serve as a useful auxiliary concept in comprehending the nature of appropriation in general, and the dynamic that the exotika have exhibited over the past hundred years in particular. Hegemony applies not only to relations among groups within Greece, but to relations between Greece and developed Western countries such as the United States and Britain. This arrangement is easy even for the average Naxiote to see; it is a part of folk wisdom. One statement heard repeatedly from a range of people was, "The great evil of the Greek is that he only copies .... He knows how to mimic." In their eyes, this explains why Greece as a country has declined to its present state of dependence on the West · from a golden antiquity when their own creations were emulated by other countries. Now Greece lags behind (efnai kathysterimeni). This formulation also says something, as my interlocutors pointed out, about the tension and envy endemic to contemporary local society. People are absolutely certain that any innovative idea they evolve will immediately be emulated by others. Indeed, the most uncomfortable moment I lived through on Naxos was when an irate taverna owner accused me of scheming to open a competing-and wholly imitative-restaurant next door to his after having thoroughly studied his own operation. The word for "style" or "manner" in Greek is yphos. It connotes a total impression or Gestalt, a composite of features that one is able to appraise in a person after a brief meeting. Yphos displays a broad semantic field that suggests certain interrogatives. According to Proias (s.v. ucj>o13) the word originally meant a woven item, and the relation to the current word for ''to weave," yphafno, is still plain to see. From this meaning, it extended to refer

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to "the way of weaving words and phrases"; "mannner of expression in speech and writing"; and further to "style," the manner of expression in any art form. Today it is current in the sense of "external appearance," such as "an impertinent 'manner' " or "the 'style' of a conqueror." Throughout, there is an attention to the manner in which something forms a whole and a sense that this may not be wholly convincing; something else lies behind it. The very idea ofyphos, as its semantic field urges, demands to be unraveled. 6 This field of meaning combines verbal and material media of expression, and the history of the word shows a progression from construction (weaving) to visual assessment of the finished product. This alignment encourages the theoretical step of combining Bourdieu' s idea of taste with its expression in symbolic capital to form a single composite notion, that of yphos or style. Yphos combines what one thinks and says with what one does and the way one is (or is perceived to be). As the Nobel-laureate poet George Seferis put it, "style is the difficulty which a person encounters in trying to express something; style is this human effort; 'style is the very person,' as the proverb goes" (Seferis 1984 1: 260). The synthetic approach taken here allows us to treat modes of thought such as the exotikd, which are occasionally but not always verbally or materially expressed and evident, as full-fledged elements of style. 7 Technically every individual has his or her own yphos; but here I wish to pursue yphos as a "group style" that is formed and recognized in relation to the styles of other groups. This concept may be applied to the study of the exotikd as follows. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries urban intellectuals, and the rising bougeoisie whom they represented, associated the exotikd exclusively with the peasantry. They were components of a subordinate yphos. By the mid-twentieth century the peasantry, through processes such as emigration and education, had sufficiently assimilated to the dominant yphos as to disown their own knowledge of the demonic supernatural. In a recent and ongoing trend the elite has begun to show a renewed interest in the supernatural, particularly in imported occult practices and Eastern forms of mysticism, as a way of maintaining a distinct yphos. The vigorous collection of exotikd tales was begun in the early nineteenth century by foreigners such as Fauriel (1824) who saw them as evidence of continuity from ancient Greece. 8 After independence (1832) Greek scholars also participated increasingly in the collection of folklore data. Both groups had a vested interest in aligning the newly freed Greek state with ancient Greece diachronically and with Europe synchronically. Through folklore studies an image of Hellenism was constructed for both national and international consumption. After all, Greece was deemed to be the fons et origo of Western civilization generally-a matter of pride and pedigree for the Greeks, one of cultural historical importance for the Europeans (Herzfeld 1982a: 15). Here

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one may discern the beginnings of the long period of European influence in Greek politics and an even more pervasive ideological sway over Greek cultural assumptions. Significantly, the very first words of Politis's landmark study, Neoelliniki Mythologia (Modern Greek Mythology, 1871), are actually those of the German Kurt Wachsmuth, whom he quotes: "The hope that the great figures of classical antiquity should not forever remain just empty shadows, but that they may be transformed into life, into a body with flesh and blood, this is the one truly interesting and truly enticing issue: to search out in modern Greece-and find-antiquity" (1871: 3). Coextensive with this romantic, nationalist perspective was the assumption that survivals were best found in rural areas among simple farmers and fishermen. Although Kambo6roglou's (1883) study of Athenian folklore suggested that this was not exclusively true, the focus of Greek folklore studies remained decidedly rural. Such an approach entailed a differentiation of Greek society into at least two groups: an illiterate, primarily rural sector among whom such survivals could be found in abundance, and an educated elite qualified to research and analyze these relics (Herzfeld 1987a: 10). By the late nineteenth century the political and nationalist motivations for folklore research were becoming less urgent-Hellas enjoyed recognition from all the European powers. Granted this, the continued rural orientation of folklore studies could be construed as an embryonic instance of what Bourdieu (1977: 195) has termed meconnaissance: the misrecognition of objective criteria such as material disparity that found differences among groups of people and that promote and support distinct tastes. These tastes are then represented as neutral preferences or justified in other terms altogether. Politis's citation of another foreign scholar, Lenormant, exposes the divide in education (and presumably wealth and privilege) separating the researchers from the researched: For the ancient tales which for centuries the folk had retained passing them on in their ignorance, narrating them at their village festivals or around shepherds' hearths are now disappearing with the advance of education. Twenty years ago one could collect five or six times what one is capable of gathering of these same tales today. If another ten years are allowed to pass, and no one concentrates on this matter, then none of these tales will be saved. In this respect they are worthy of the complete attention of those who are educated. (1871: 5-6, emphasis added)

In later writings, having emerged somewhat from his earlier classicizing predilection, Politis (1909) identified "traditions" (paradoseis) as the main object of folklore studies. He considered these to be "manifestations of the psychic and social life of the people . . . the first origins of which are unknown. They do not stem from the influence of any exemplary person, furthermore they are not the product of breeding or education" (1909: 7). Such traditions were to be found among all people. Politis insisted there was no separating the masses from the superior classes and cited Laskaratos to make

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his point: ''It is not a question of who wears a cap and who a top hat, but who, beneath the cap or top hat hides few brains and a lot of superstitions" (1909: 8; see also Kyriakidou-Nestoros 1983: 251). This approach emphasized the unity of all layers of Greek society in a common bond of Hellenic identity and it converged with the assumptions of demoticism, a primarily linguistic movement. The demoticists were in the process of reacting against the proponents of purified Greek (katharevousa), an artificial language modeled on ancient Greek. This language was created by purging the common spoken language of Turkish lexical items and reintroducing grammatical forms, such as the dative case, which had long since disappeared. The demoticists looked instead toward the villages and the language spoken there as the basis for Hellenism. For them, the Greek soul was somehow rooted in these simple people and their customs, a contention to which intellectuals would often return (Dragoumis 1927: 191 et passim; Tziovas 1986: 58ff.). Hellenism remained the label for Greek identity after the turn of the century, even though the ancient Greeks were no longer considered its sole forerunners (Kyriakidou-Nestoros 1978: 155). Most demoticists and folklorists continued to ignore the social, demographic, and material disparities between the folk and the middle class to which they themselves belonged. As evidenced in the quote from Laskaratos above, folklorists sought to dismiss the possibility that rural dwellers necessarily clung to any more "superstitions" than urban dwellers. Yet the rural focus of folklore studies and consequently the rural provenance of most "traditions" strongly contradicted this theoretical position. PoHtis's disciple, Stflpon Kyriakidis, likened folklore analysis to early Greek philosophy, which the ancients saw as the repository of true knowledge (tis alithow gnoseos; 1953: 20-21; see also Kyriakidou-Nestoros 1978: 164, 17-18). When applied by the few (oi olfgm), namely the philosophers (read folklorists), philosophy (read folklore) constituted the proper analytical tool for studying the irrational and arbitrary beliefs (dOxa) of the masses (oi polio(). The divide between two groups, those who are educated and those who are not, remains a glaring one. Basing himself partly on Freud's conception of the unconscious, Kyriakidis maintained that all people possess both irrational and rational tendencies and thus the category "folk" included everyone to some degree. The refusal to grasp the category of the folk from the perspective of class analysis remained steadfast. Such a move would have forced the realization that lack of material resources among the poorer segments of society often meant absence of the means or opportunity for education. 9 This handicap must surely have contributed to the higher incidence of traditional or apparently irrational forms of knowledge among these people--the very stuff of folklore. Even late into his career Kyriakidis (1953: 26; see also KyriakidouNestoros 1978: 177) held to the following demoticist vision offolklore:

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In folklore studies it is impossible to divide the folk into classes or layers; it is a unity. Elements of folklore are diffused amongst all those constituting a single folk-rich and poor, villagers and city dwellers, those educated and those uneducated-varying only in proportion. What needs to be differentiated is not the folk, but rather culture. In fact, among every people we have two distinct cultures, the superior or modern and the inferior or traditional, which we call folk culture.

Kyriakidis's pronouncement practically defies logic as his daughter Alki Kyriakidou-Nestoros (1978: 177) unhesitatingly pointed out. Does it make sense to speak of an indivisible folk united by a common folk culture and of a division whereby this same folk culture is subordinate to a modem culture? The contentions of folklore studies and demoticism came to touch and influence the society at large; they were not just subjects for austere academic debate. Which language should be used for instruction in schools? Which forms of knowledge were valid and which constituted folklore? These were questions affecting everyone. Indeed the very idea of education was promoted and recommended to the society at large as a quintessentially Hellenic pursuit. Demoticists such as Delmouzos actively campaigned for the adoption of the demotic language as the medium for education even if ''limiting it to the linguistic form of folk songs'' (1971: 70). Overall he urged that children should be taught in a language reflecting living, contemporary reality (1971: 34) and he strove to create national unity by fulfilling what he considered a universal need for national education (1971: 109). In 1917, under Prime Minister Venizelos, the demotic language was instituted as the language of primary education. The image of Hellenism proposed by linguists and folklorists constituted a prime example of Gramsci's hegemony, 10 a situation whereby dominance is achieved through consent and effected through noncoercive institutions such as schools, the arts, and particularly the activity of the intellectuals (i.e., books, magazines, newspapers; Gramsci 1947: 137). Despite their differences, both demoticists and purists were offering equally hegemonic visions, which, when implemented in education and language, would create a unified nation.U "Every relationship of 'hegemony' is a pedagogic relationship," wrote Gramsci (cited in Joll1977: 101). Hegemony mitigates class differences that normally arise from unequal access to wealth and power and it diffuses the ideas of the dominant group in such a way that they appeal to subordinate groups that do not perceive themselves to be oppressed but rather in solidarity with a system that is not their own. 12 Although the low degree of interclass tension and aggression (both then as now) may be the natural consequence of Greece's still low level of industrialization, it would appear that the unifying bond of Hellenism has also played a guiding integrative role. The apparatus of hegemony inculcates a sense of participation and belonging among subordinate classes that is reinforced by the impression that there is

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social mobility. In Greece, education is both a means and a marker of this social ascent. Beginning in the late nineteenth century, learning, especially higher education, took hold as a value for the society at large (Tsoucalas 1976). The respect shown for those intellectually cultivated (morphomenoi) reflected the absorption of ideals embodied by dominant groups. At school one studied, among other things, ancient Greek literature and philosophy, which reinforced the sense that the quest for knowledge was a fundamentally Hellenic preoccupation. Although embraced as a neutral aesthetic preference, education amounted to a movement toward incorporation into the middle class. On present-day Naxos, for example, it is the commonly expressed wish of parents who have made their living from the land that their children should have a better life than themselves. They phrase this in minimalist terms, not as a planned course of action involving entry into the middle class or even the acquisition of wealth. They simply do not want their children to be forced to exhaust themselves through manual labor the same way they did. For the young people themselves, education is, most immediately, a way out of the village and they actively seek to leave. As the program of "national education" proceeded, the margin of difference between the bourgeoisie and peasantry narrowed in certain respects. But it was not until after World War 11, with rapidly increasing urbanization and the expansion of educational facilities, including the opening of three new universities (and now a fourth, the University of the Aegean), that the gap began to close rapidly and the boundaries, both spatially and symbolically, of the two groups began to blur. It is perhaps the case now that this earlier contrast between the peasantry and the bourgeoisie has been transformed more into a struggle for identity that is mainly internal to the middle class. Failing the chance of education, or perhaps in addition to it, there are other means, namely patterns of consumption, which may claim higher status. For example, the rise in the quantity of whiskey imported into Greece--from 124,000 liters in 1971 to more than 4 million liters in 1982---could not possibly be interpreted as an indication of increased consumption by the elite with whom such a drink is associated, but rather the adoption of the drink by people everywhere, evidence of the degree to which this element of elite style had been embraced by the society at large. Consumption in rural areas was, in proportion to population, practically what it was in Athens. Over the same period the sale of local Greek wines and retsina decreased in real terms. 13 Claims to modernity or middle class-ness are, it seems, often stated at the expense of objects, in this case ouzo and retsina, which have historically been prominent elements of Greek culture. Such changes in lifestyle in turn elicit responses from the elite who may alter their own yphos in ord~r to retain a distinct identity. One elderly Athenian woman, whose fluency in several European languages indicated her high level of cultivation, took evident glee in parodying the pronunciation of the masses

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clamoring for whiskey, ''What do they want with gou('ski?'' she mocked. What drink does the elite now prefer? Perhaps other kinds of imported spirits or perhaps certain brands of whiskey that are prohibitively expensive or only available abroad. It may even be the case that they have turned back to ouzo, as the increasing number of chic, tastefully decorated ouzer£ (a word formed from a Greek root and a French suffix [as in patisserie]) seem to indicate. The same question may be asked of education. Now that there are so many universities in Greece, can a university degree possibly constitute a serious status distinction? While serving as assistant minister of industry, Vaso Papandreou offered the following commentary in an interview concerning problematic small businesses and the lack of corporate managers who would enable them to expand and become more viable: Education is generally a means of effecting the reduction if not the elimination of class differences. The diploma provides a way for one to break the barrier of privilege of the higher paid classes. If, however, we continue as we are going, I fear that the diploma will become a means of reinforcing class differences. Today people with both multiple and specialist knowledge are required. When an educational system fails to produce these people, then those who have the economic facility will acquire this knowledge at some foreign university. These people will subsequently be utilized by the society. Thus, those who have the economic facility to study abroad will be those who, tomorrow, occupy the most remunerative posts; the key positions, if you like, in a developing process. In the grips of our present view-which makes the acquisition of degrees that much easier-it is as if we were creating a new elite which springs from foreign universities. It is, furthermore, as if we assisted in the reproduction of class differentiation among degree holders. (Vfma [August 10, 1986]).

It should be noted that wealth is necessary to acquire symbols of distinction and that in a competitive social marketplace the cost of forging new symbols is forced higher and higher. 14 In the example of education, the diploma is both a symbol and a crucial qualification instrumental to the acquisition of more wealth. Emblems of status are not, however, always directly determined by actual wealth. There is considerable room for emulation and deception where cultural capital is involved. And groups are defined as much through being perceived as through being, that is to say, occupying a specific position in the relation of production (Bourdieu 1986: 483). The specific qualities and characteristics of elite and subordinate group styles are not immutably fixed but rather change according to circumstances. They coexist in a relation of reciprocal definition (Bourdieu 1986: 246-47). In the nineteenth century the educated sector of Greek society labeled the peasantry ''ignorant,'' a condition that explained their preservation of and constant traffic in ''traditions'' regarding supernatural powers among other things. But

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categories such as the "supernatural" or "superstition" could never have been conceptualized, let alone defined, except by another group possessing distinct notions of the "natural" and the religiously proper. Education founds such a difference; it establishes (constructs) standard as opposed to substandard types of knowledge. The recognition and subsequent imputation of "supernatural beliefs'' are thus part of the process of education itself; through education distinctive social groups with differing access to wealth and power are founded. In this regard the will to knowledge reveals an aggressive and even violent aspect precisely because it raises one to a dominant position over those who remain ignorant (Foucault 1977: 162). Before the spread of education and foreign travel there was probably no developed characterization of the "supernatural" in Greece nor of "folklore" at all for that matter. At least the lines were drawn differently: it was in contrast to the Church that beliefs were defined as ''superstitious'' and in contrast to the clergy that there was a "folk" (Iaos, lit. "laity"; Alexiou 1985: 13ff.). In the last century a secular model (based on natural science) was substituted for this religious model and the recognition of the supernatural came to hinge on the difference between privileged/educated and underprivileged/uneducated social groups. EDUCATION AND 0BJECTIFICATION

Gramsci noted that part of the course of training for school teachers in Italy (as in Greece) were lessons in folklore. Knowledge of this subject meant a better ability to identify and extirpate the mistaken concepts that might otherwise have held sway over young children. The very study of folklore was thus a step toward its eradication. As Gramsci wrote, it was "as if folklore killed itself" (come se ilfolclore uccidesse se stesso; 1977: 269-70). In the course of education a child was taught the laws of nature and equally that there are civil laws: The scientific ideas the children learnt conflicted with the magical conception of the world and nature which they absorbed from an environment steeped in folklore; while the idea of civic rights and duties conflicted with tendencies toward individualistic and localistic barbarism-another dimension of folklore. The school combated folklore, indeed every residue of traditional conceptions of the world. It taught a more modem outlook based essentially on an awareness of the simple and fundamental fact that there exist objective, intractable natural laws to which man must adapt himself if he is to master them in turn-and that there exist social and state laws which are the product of human activity, which are established by men and can be altered by men in the interests of their collective development. (1971: 34)

This natural and social positivism that education founds is fundamental to the concept of work: on the one hand nature is understood so as to be dominated, on the other civil responsibilities that facilitate cooperation are learned.

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Schooling prepares the child to assume a productive role in society. It should be noted that although Greece has not always provided sufficient industrial possibilities for work, six years of post primary education constitute the minimum requirement for a civil service post (Friedl1964: 572-73). Beginning in the 1920s on Naxos the steady ebb of the laborforce away from the island spelled the end of its relatively self-sufficient agricultural economy, and marked the beginning of its integration into the national money economy (see Chaper 1). One figure whose work reflects the Zeitgeist of preWorld War 11 Naxos is Dialekhtf Zevg6li-Glezou, a poet and folklorist. Between writing verses lamenting the absence of her two brothers who had joined the merchant navy, she collected folklore and linguistic material as a correspondent of the Lexicographical Archives in Athens (Litsas 1986: 47). Eventually she moved to the capital, at first to attend Athens University. Increasing contact with national institutions alerted the Naxiotes to the uniqueness of their island customs and perhaps also to the fact that this way of life was perceived by outsiders to be backward. One well-known story tells of a man who went to Athens. He could not find a public lavatory and so relieved himself in a vacant lot in the middle of the city. A distich was coined describing this event: ''Wretched Naxiote, I wherever you find a place there you shit" (Q xaTJ~tEvE Asa I 'O:n:ou "t6:n:ou [sic] 'xE( :X.Eata). The force of these lines extended beyond description of an isolated event and was sorely felt by all Naxiotes to exemplify the Athenian derision of their collective uncouthness. On the island many customs began to disappear in the face of contact with the national culture. In the mountain villages, for example, many still wore the traditional costume featuring a waistcoat and breeches (vrakes) and would ridicule their eo-villagers who returned from sojourns abroad or in Athens wearing European-style suits, which they labeled Frankish (phrangika). But Frankish dress eventually caught on and at the time of my field research there were only a few old men in their nineties wearing breeches; now even they have passed away. Numerous other traditions, such as the singing of ballads and "akritic" songs (Zevg6lis 1915; Oikonomidis 1962) and divination by water, mirrors, or lead (Oikonomidis 1940: 29), which once attracted the attention of folklorists, have all now vanished. A symptom of the current distance from former customs and rituals in the local tendency to objectify these phenomena as "folklore." It is also an indication of increased sophistication brought about through education. A number of Naxiote emigres have studied folklore at university and the current professor of folklore at Athens University is a Naxiote. As part of the undergraduate degree in folklore, students are expected to present a substantial collection of folklore data usually from their native village. The activity of students collecting this material in villages on Naxos has heightened everyone's sensitivity as to which practices and forms of knowledge are, and which are not, of folkloric interest. In Apeiranthos as in other villages, emigres who have become politicians

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or university professors are periodically invited to address local groups on some aspect of history or folklore. 15 Village cultural organizations (sjllogoi), which are usually dominated by local intellectuals and aspiring politicians, often enlist the advice of these Athenian savants in recreating and staging rituals that have either disappeared or are about to vanish through lack of interest. As an example, several years ago the cultural organization of Apefranthos injected new life into the flagging celebration of carnival by raising money for the purchase of new bells and other paraphernalia. Recently the Apeiranthos newspaper (T'Ap, January 1987) reported that the new mayor, a former MP and a man of formidable learning, had requested a grant of 300,000 drachmas ($2,500) from the Ministry of Culture for the purchase of goat hair costumes to be worn in the same carnival celebration. 16 A parallel case is the effort of the cultural organization of Phil6ti to resuscitate the kUdonas, a formerly widespread divining rite that has not been practiced anywhere on Naxos for some years. In this ritual the participants, who should be unmarried youths, each place a token (a ring, key, etc.) in a large vase of water. A child, usually a girl, then pulls these items out and, as she does so, one of the assembled improvises a rhyming couplet that applies to whomever is then identified by the token. These distichs may praise or mock the person. Formerly, as in other parts of Greece, they were meant to predict one's marriage partner. In preparation for the celebration in Phil6ti the head of the cultural organization (since elected mayor of the village) gathered examples of such distichs from oldtimers who could remember them. He also requested that I give a summary of the kUdonas ceremony to the assembled, which I did, discussing its similarity to divinatory practices in ancient and medieval Greece. Then, as each token was held up, one of these distichs was read. The rite was thus reenacted, provoking much laughter and eventually the spontaneous participation of the audience in composing distichs. If the cultural organization continues to support the rite for a few more years, it is possible that it may become self-perpetuating once again. However, it seems most probable that, like the carnival in Apeiranthos and most other folk rituals, it will remain linked to the cultural organization if it continues to exist at all. Such·a relationship demonstrates the community's control over these rites as "folklore" and serves to establish the community's unique identity in relation to other villages (which do not celebrate such rites). This also obviates any possible criticism that the rites are signs of backwardness or ignorance. On the contrary they are indicators of an intelligent identity that the community has been able to establish through its own members who have received university training. Not all forms of folklore have been resuscitated in Naxos. Although the kUdonas may once have involved the agency of supernatural forces such as the nera.i'des, which were said to bewitch the water in the vase while it is left out beneath the stars before the ritual, reference to any exotikd was absent from the reenactrnent and met with amused laughter when I mentioned it in

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my talk before the rite began. Rituals, because of their visible, performative aspect, lend themselves much more easily and enjoyably to objectification than do bodies of knowledge/belief that must necessarily inhere in the individual. Indeed, the very process of objectification involves stripping away the interior dimension of conviction from outward practice. Thus the exotika have been particularly vulnerable and are no longer required-even in rituals that once appealed to them. I was therefore surprised when a young man, born and raised in Athens although of Naxiote parentage, approached me in the village and asked if I knew anything about the mandrake plant. That was the sort of question I had set out to ask the villagers. I thought of referring him to Anna Papamikhael's excellent book (1975), but this had been published only in English. 17 The young man went on to say that certain people in Athens had told him that this plant was bound up with his astrological sign and that he would like to find out more. One young woman, a classics student at Athens University, consulted me about island traditions regarding a certain bird, the koui'dedes, said to be a man transformed into a bird as punishment for denying Christ. This was part of her general concern with the use of birds in divinatory practice. These sorts of interest in astrology, meditation, symbolism, and parapsychology were typical in young people from the village who had grown up in Athens. THE NEW SUPERNATURAL

I subsequently observed in Athens, particularly among young people as well as among the educated and professional sectors of society, that practices and speculations relating to the non-Orthodox supernatural were more vital and apparent than in the village. Indeed all one need do is pick up the Yellow Pages in Athens to see that there is a wide variety of mediums, palmists, and astrologers offering services (Jackson n.d.). One may also observe the popularity of books dealing with mysticism and the supernatural. The success of the esoteric bookstore pYrinos Kosmos (Fiery World), located almost directly across the street from the Humanities Faculty (Philosophikf Skhol() of the University of Athens, is a good case in point. The exotika continue to be discussed in the city, but the real phenomenon is this fascination with astrology, mediums, tarot, and Eastern systems of meditation and mysticism. Of course this imported and commercialized supernatural is different from the stories of exotika. They are not the result of a long historical development within Greece. It may be objected that these bear no relation to the supernatural lore of the nineteenth-century peasantry. This is true but there is a functional similarity between these two types of supernatural that suggests that the one may be replacing the other. 18 Malinowski (1954: 30-31), in his work conducted on the Trobriand islands, discovered that when fishing in the inner lagoon the Trobrianders did not resort

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to magic, but when fishing in open seas they made copious use of magic in order to secure safe passage and a reasonable catch. The principle revealed by this example is that if there is uncertainty or danger, recourse to supernatural assistance becomes a felt necessity. When one may be relatively sure of successfully achieving an end, there is no need to appeal to magic. While many of the uncertainties and dangers of rural life in Greece have been overcome (with the introduction of drugs, fertilizers, etc.), there are now numerous perils inherent in urban life. Violent crime, drug addiction, and dark streets have all been imbued with demonic overtones and associations. Most of all, there is socioeconomic uncertainty. If one examines the number of students attending university in relation to GNP, it is clear that even in the industrial sector or in professions such as law, degree holders are likely to face difficulty in landing a satisfactory job. 19 This contributes to a large and underproductive tertiary sector (Tsoucalas 1976: 425) and the vagaries of the patronage system only aggravate the situation. 20 It is quite possible that education itself has led to a preoccupation with the supernatural, for educated people are most embroiled in this struggle for success (the outcome of which is beyond their control). In addition to predictive practices such as astrology, the educated elite (or would-be elite) have also become involved with forms of mysticism that question the very bases of worldly knowledge in favor of a more abstract and mystical "consciousness." Granted that knowledge of science, mathematics, or philology does not easily gain one a job these days, this move toward mysticism, which continues one's position as an intellectual while granting less importance to the outside world, could be seen as a form of adaptation or selfjustification. That practices such as astrology have been imported into Greece should not escape notice. This is no doubt connected to the international trend of interest in the occult in developed countries (Eliade 1976: 59ff.; Luhrmann 1989), a phenomenon that in itself rules against any postulated decrease in supernatural beliefs correlate with an increase in education. This interest in foreign ideas parallels the general importation of culture into Greece--music, cars, and whiskey, to name but a few items. In this light the cachet of the new supernatural, like that of these other diacritical status markers, is traceable to a larger international framework. Although at some level the progressive elite value their Byzantine heritage, the romiosfni aspect of Greek identity is precisely the part disparaged in the construction of (Hellenic) middle-class identity (Herzfeld 1987a: 102 et passim). For the progressive middle class Greece does not in any serious sense belong to the East. It belongs to the West. Even though much of the mysticism currently in fashion originates in the East (Zen, tantra, meditation), it is associated with the West and is mainly available through English-language publications. The old exotikd, although possessed of a long history in Greece,

16. This cosmopolitan depiction of the " Picasso-nosed female kallikantzaros" is indicative of the irony with which the urban elite view the exotika. (Picture by P. Tetsis, courtesy ofT. Velloudios.)

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an aspect which potentially defines them as Western, are said to belong to the East. Similarly, many of the real traditions and handicrafts of Greece are also viewed as signs of backwardness, at least until foreign tourists begin to buy them up. 21 The paradox of the supernatural in Greece is that the rural and relatively uneducated sector has dispensed with their own traditional supernatural lore in the process of adapting this part of their yphos to the dominant standard. One of their most immediate concerns in this process was not to appear ridiculous before the educated sector of the society. Yet this educated middle class has now begun to demonstrate a strong interest in new and imported types of supernatural practice. Preoccupation with the supernatural is pointed to as a sign of awareness, of heightened consciousness. It is fast becoming an element of the dominant yphos. A simplistic model based on rationalism would call for education alone to erase supernatural beliefs, superior scientific explanation replacing inferior traditional wisdom. This is not the case. Social forces, particularly hegemony, may better account for shifts that are usually analyzed within the framework of an individualist rationality. It is not a question of what one learns in the classroom but rather what class one comes to belong to by virtue of education. The middle class, in any case, always manages to stay one step ahead of subordinate groups. This state of affairs, which Friedl (1964) termed ''lagging emulation," may be cast in terms ofZeno's paradox. Just as Achilles is never able to overtake the tortoise, so the emerging peasantry is never quite able to catch the middle class. They are only successful in mastering positions that the middle class has just left behind. In the nineteenth century supernatural beliefs among the peasantry were a sign of ignorance; among the twentiethcentury bourgeoisie they are a sign of consciousness. A distinction between dominant and subordinate groups remains. Only the markers that claim superiority seem to have altered, and these in a way that has reversed their prior associations.

PART TWO

The Composition of the Exotika

CHAPTER FIVE

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Throughout Greece local traditions, such as those described in Chapter 3, exist recounting the foundation of an important church. As on Naxos, these accounts reinforce the notion that the village is divinely protected and qualitatively distinct from the area outside it, where people struggle against the elements and their own fatigue in the attempt to cultivate a living. The custom of building small chapels in outlying areas may be seen as a continuous attempt to domesticate the wilderness. These chapels form ideal points of ref-

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erence when giving directions. When not named after a saint, outlying areas are often named after an exotik6, as if the ordinary precivilized, presacralized nature of the wilderness were demonic. Throughout Greece the names of saints alternate with those of exotika, as in Apeiranthos where the area called Mavromo{res bordered on Agios Kynkos which bordered in turn on Agios Pakh6mios. This theme of sanctifying land and thus wresting it away from the otherwise immanent grip of the exotika is evident not only at the founding of villages or churches. It is also replicated in the construction of an ordinary house. A special ceremony accompanies the laying of a house's foundation and a cockerel is customarily sacrificed. The prayers read at this ceremony literally equate the founding of the house with the creation of the universe: The almighty God who made firm the heavens in prudence and founded the earth in its security; He who built the Church by means of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and positioned it steadfast upon the rock of faith; the great architect and builder, 0 Lord, the provider and preserver of the entire world; oversee us and bless the works of our hands. We lay this foundation stone and beseech Thy power that it be steadfast. (Peristatikaf, p. 45)1

Yet even though the house is so blessed and under the constant guard of the icons displayed within it, there is still the threat of demonic incursion, and the Large Prayerbook contains a prayer for a household troubled by evil spirits (Eu:x.iJ bd otx(a~ :rtEQLEQyal;,oJ.tEVTJ~ u:rto :rtOVTJQci'>v :rtVEUJ.t{mov). It reads in part: [E]xpel all diabolical power, all satanic incursion, every connivance of the opposed power from this household and from those dwelling within it; those wearing the sign of Thy cross, frightful emblem against demons and those beseeching Thy holy name. Yes, Lord, who expelled the legion of demons and commanded the final departure of the deaf, mute and unclean spirit from the person possessed by it; who destroyed the whole phalanx of our invisible enemies. He judged the faithful and said, "Behold, I give you the power to tread over snakes and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy." Master, protect those before us in this house from all harm and evil influence; from being overcome by night-time fear; from arrows shot by day; from the thing which moves in the night; and from the midday demon. (Evkhol6gion Mega, pp. 493--94)

The conflict between God and the demons is not one that is resolved the moment one embraces Christianity, lives in a Christian community, and consecrates one's house. It is a continuous struggle. In many parts of Greece, the village is perceived by its inhabitants to be a divinely protected enclosure or circle. 8 In the Greek-speaking South Italian village of Rochudi, the gate facing the areas known as Agriddea and Plache was kept closed so the nereids would not enter the village. 9 Nereids were

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thought to go around by night riding on elder branches. An account from the Peloponnese correlates the protected status of the village with a sacralizing act: The koukoUdi (bubonic plague) could not come to Panorio because the people had drawn a circle around the village using a plough pulled by twin calves. They chose calves because calves licked Christ when he was born and consequently calves are on good terms with Christianity. They buried those calves alive after they ploughed that circle and koukoUdi didn't come here. In Spathi, St. George and St. Athanassios killed it and in their churches there where you see a monster being cut down under their swords, that monster is the koukoUdi. (Blum and Blum 1970: 104-5)

The association of diseases with the space outside the village is made still more pointedly in the following Thracian account: Kastanies [name of village) was hemmed by seven tall trees. Around the village, beyond the houses were seven tall trees. They were old, ancient; the one far from the other. There were walnut trees, two chestnut trees, one askamfa [?] and one oak tree. If they heard of disease in the neighboring villages, they would hold an allnight service so that it would not enter Kastanies. The next morning they would read the liturgy. Afterwards, they brought out the large icons from the church, the sfkhna (Lat. signa), and chanting, they made a circuit around the outskirts of the village. While making this circuit (gyro) they would stop at each tree, and the priest would carve out a round piece from the body of the tree using a small knife. He would then afix this to the tree a little bit higher up using wax. Then they would proceed back to the church where the people would disperse. In this fashion the village would close shut (ekleine); by the grace and strength of God, as well as by their own faith. The disease would not go [to them). 10

In both accounts the indigenous conception of the human settlement as ringed or encircled by a protective force must not pass unnoticed. As a conceptual device, the image of the circle (kjklos) is evidently very deeply rooted in Greek culture (du Boulay 1982; 1984: 543ff.) and widely attested. The above accounts do not specify the exact manner in which the circles were formed (i.e., whether they were closed by a clockwise or counterclockwise movement). According to du Boulay the latter is auspicious (moving to one's right when facing into the circle) and the former inauspicious. All circular dances in Greece call for right-handed, counterclockwise motion. The procession described in the second account above would almost certainly have been counterclockwise, as this is the direction in which icons are carried throughout Greece at the litaneies on Easter Sunday or on other religious occasions. The apotropaic power of the circle arguably derives from the manner in which it creates two distinct spaces. The interior corresponds to inhabited space, the sanctified oikoumeni, while the area beyond is conceded to the disease- and misfortune-bearing demons. On Naxos, if one is attacked by exotikti

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beyond the confines of the village, a wise course of action is to take a blackhandled knife and etch a circle into the ground around oneself. Inside this circle one should then carve the sign of the cross. This action effectively creates a miniature replica of the ringed village with its central church. If one remains inside this circle the demons may not penetrate and harm one." A Cretan account compactly expresses this principle: "You may sleep at the threshing floor and you needn't fear bewitchment (vistiria)--the evil which someone suffers from demons-because the demons are afraid of the circle'' (oi daim6noi phovoundai ton kjklo; Phrangaki 1949: 43). The effectiveness of circles is not limited to magical practice but is also discernible in a number of Orthodox rituals; it permeates both doctrinal and local religion in Greece. In the Little Entrance of the standard liturgy, for example, the book of the Gospels is carried counterclockwise through the body of the church. Circular symbolism is especially conspicuous at life-cycle rituals such as marriage. Here the engagement/wedding rings, the crowns placed on the heads of tlie newlyweds, the circular dance of Isaiah led by the priest around a table set in the nave of the church, and the larger circular dance involving the whole village after the wedding all draw on this common image (Vogiatzfdis 1956: 65-73). In these cases it may be argued that the symbolism of the circle indicates completion or fulfillment, an image also present in the standard term for ritual itself, telet{ (cf. telos, "end"). 12 Even our own expression "lifecycle" seems to draw on this pervasive image. Roadside shrines (proskynitaria) furnish another device for marking the difference between sacred and profane space. They are mostly found along roads or paths leading to churches, monasteries, or villages. They mark the perimeters of the sacred, and in the case of a village, the perimeters of habitation (Kyriakfdou-Nestoros 1975: 30). In cases where a village is surrounded by four or more of these shrines, Kyriakfdou-Nestoros has observed that the first four correspond to the cardinal points. Subsequent shrines usually fill in the circle.

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Villages with shrines at all four cardinal points are called ''crossed villages'' and like Kastanies above, these villages were thought to be invulnerable to epidemics such as cholera, which was widespread during the Ottoman period (Kyriakidou-Nestoros 1975: 31). The power of broad spatial representations of the cross is also evident in the district of Pelli in Macedonia. Here it is held that to sleep on the edges of a field is to risk attack from the samoviles. 13 By contrast, the interior of the field is thought to be safe because it is ''crossed'' by successive ploughings. The tension and opposition between inhabited and deserted places may also be viewed through shepherds' accounts of healing disease among their flocks. Such diseases are often attributed to the exotika. In Attica, the strfnglos was thought to be a personification of anthrax: "In the old days people said it was the Stringlos who rode on the sheep and caused their death. Today we know it is anthrax that causes it and vaccination which saves us" (Blum and Blum 1970: 98; see Codellas 1945: 242f.). There are many variants throughout Greece. The Sarakatsanoi refer to the creatures that bring disease to their animals as daoutides, although the "lucky ones" may also attack sheep (Khatzimikbali 1957: QJ.I.--QJ.ta). In other parts it is the smerdaki (Codellas 1945) or the devil (Politis 1904 1: 314ff.). When his flocks are afflicted with such a disease, a shepherd does well to take them--in some cases after having muted or removed their bells-to a small secluded chapel and to lead them around it three times (Politis 1904 1: 347, in the Peloponnese). This practice appeals to the power of the particular church and the circle without involving the human inhabitants of the village. Another account elaborates: Sometimes the smerdaki descends upon the sheepfolds and brings a great calamity. On occasion they see him as a hound and at other times as a harrier. He mounts the sheep and all those he mounts die. In order to save their sheep from the smerdaki the shepherds must pass their flocks, by night, through the center of a village. There they will1eave the disease. They stop up the bells so the villagers will not hear anything. They would kill if they found out. Yet humans come to no harm if the smerddki should stay. Sometimes, however, he attacks the cattle and other animals of the village. When they are unable to pass through a village they take the priests with the Sacraments and circle around the boundaries of the grazing land. Whenever they stop they make a cross. In this manner the evil is crossed (stavronetai, "crucified"). (Polftis 1904 1: 316)

Whether the animals are brought to a "sacred" space or a sacred space is created around the animals, the principle remains the same. Circumscribed or crossed spaces separate the holy (and the human) from the demonic and create a protective area. The preceding conceptions of physical space direct us to notions of social space and it is important to include these latter in our consideration of demonic

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symbolism. Beyond the divinely protected circle of the village lurk more than just the exotika and the immediate fields where people work. Farther on there are other villages whose inhabitants, although known to some degree, are not entirely trusted. It has been noted by virtually all anthropologists who have studied Greece that the world is divided into people who are "one's own" (dikoi mas) and those who are "strangers" (xenoi; Campbell1964: 316; Herzfeld 1980a). As in the case of spatial interiority/exteriority, we may point to this distinction between social insiders/outsiders as a cognitive ordering principle that influences the representation of the exotika. Just as a variety of spatial locations may convey the concept of exteriority (mills, threshing floors, rivers, etc.), so the identity of social outsiders is also variable. Just who is a xenos is a matter decided according to context. Janet Hart (1989: 11) reports the story of a Greek woman who left her local community in the late 1940s to fight in the ranks of the resistance forces (EAM). When she returned after this combat absence and a lengthy prison confinement, people in her village, most of whom had sympathized with the government, treated her as a bogey (baboulas) and were afraid to speak to her for fear of being labeled communist sympathizers. In the following account from Attica, even brides brought from neighboring villages are considered strangers: I know there have been strangers who have tried to hann the village; there are many stories about it. My grandmother has told me since our village began-which was back about 490 B.c.-no evil has been able to invade the village; that is, nothing contagious has been able to get in because Panorio is fenced with an invisible fence which was built by magic; it is this fence which has kept the illness out. Many times they (the men) have brought brides from other villages, brought them there on horseback; it has happened that a new bride who was being brought here by her groom dropped dead the moment she arrived where the St. Demetrios church is. She was bringing a disease into the village but the unseen fence would not let her enter. I don't know what the disease was; in those days there were often epidemics of one sort or another, as for example, the pest. (Blum and Blum 1970: 40-41)

Foreigners (i.e., other nationalities) and members of other religious groups are strangers par excellence. In the Dodecanese (Kos and Kalyrnnos), Jews were said to worship the head of an ass and to wander about between Christmas and Epiphany in search of Moses. They were regularly confused with the kallikantzaroi, who also appear at this time, although the former were tellingly labeledsavvatianoi, "Saturday beings" (Rouse 1899: 176). On Cyprus, "The Beauty of the Jews" (/ Kali ton Ovkon) was a separate demon, similar to the ''Beauty of the Mountains'' (/ Kali ton Oreon) who is the leader of the nereids in other places (Polftis 1904 1: 394; Alexiou 1974: 76). The Jew who appeared to a Messenian man and offered to make him rich if he would stay away from church for three years was said to be a metamorphosis of the Devil (Karavit6s

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25. Representation from an eighteenth- or nineteenth-century manuscript (Delatte 1927: 600) where it bears the title, "This is the table of the Beauty of the Mountains." In the accompanying text one is instructed to make offerings of honey and sweets to the Beauty on the first of August. She will be pleased and grant one's wish.

1885: 132), while in the vicinity of Leonidi, Jews are said to guard treasures like arapides (Kostakis 1984: 85ff.) . The arapis is a good example of a foreigner directly informing the image of an exotik6. Apparently from the word for "Arab," this character is imaged as a black man who smokes a long pipe (Lee 1951: 307). In a similar vein the armenides, who sometimes appear as flashes of light or else snatch people at rivers where they celebrate weddings, clearly derive from Armenians. According to the Chian folklorist, Vios (1921 : 446), the Armenians were especially hated because they served the Turks, and on some parts of the island armenis is not an exotik6 but just a nasty name to call someone. This section has opened the discussion of demonic symbolism by drawing attention to various Greek figures of thought related to space in both the physical and social senses. It should be emphasized that the very principles found in the composition of the exotika are discernible in other ideas and practices across the breadth of Greek culture. If, for example, we call attention to the relation among magic circles, dancing, and circling as part of Orthodox ritual, this is not done in order to assert that one or another instance of circling is primary and in some way determines the others. The three should rather be viewed as homologues, all equally the result of fundamental Greek conceptions of space and motion brought to bear on separate issues. By gathering these various reflexes together we not only approach a more detailed under-

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standing of Greek ideology itself, but we also come to grasp the degree to which the exotikd are its product. TIME

From the perspective of Western science, time is a continuum. Yet, at the local level, it is regularly viewed as a series of successive increments, steps, or cycles. It is with breaks in the flow of time that the demonic is most associated in Greece. For Hans Peter Duerr (1985: 123) these temporal interstices are cracks through which people may slip beyond normal time. They are analogous to physical spaces such as crossroads, bridges, and caves, which are "betwixt and between" spatially. The exotikd appear most commonly either at midday or midnight, designations that in Greece do not mean literally 12 A.M. and 12 P.M. but broadly the middle of the day or late at night. 14 At these times people should be inside sleeping or resting. In Apefranthos, parents seem to have introduced a special bogey, o mesimer{s (the midday thing), who expressly attacks little children who do not nap in the afternoon. Around Kor6ni, in the southern Peloponnese, one should not swim at midday because the lcfmia, a beautiful creature, halfwoman, half-fish, will appear and drown one. 15 In Aidonokh6ri in the vicinity of Karditsa, women used not to go near the well at noon because that was when a beautiful white-clad woman would sit there washing and combing her long hair. 16 Adults who roam about in the afternoon or late at night are sometimes said to be keeping appointments with the exotikd. Or they may be casting magical spells that require contacting the demons at midnight at a crossroads. A Cretan taxi-driver working in Athens once told me that his brother loosed a binding spell that had rendered him impotent by going to a crossroads at midnight. He carried with him seven skulls taken from the local ossuary and drew a circle around himself with a black-handled knife. The army of the demons came by, leaving him unharmed but restoring his potency (he went on to have six children). Since people are not generally about during hot summer afternoons or late at night, these present excellent opportunities for clandestine love affairs or thieving. The exotikd are thus at once a sanction against such moral breaches and, as was seen earlier, a cover for those who nonetheless perpetrate them. The very representations of the exotikd as beautiful abductors/abductresses give form to the issues at stake. 17 It is also possible that in many instances these images are arrived at and experienced wholly through dreams or reveries, which are also likely to occur at night or during an afternoon nap. Events seen in dreams are often treated as reality, as we saw earlier in the examination of miracles on Naxos. The appearance of the exotikd at liminal temporal points is also evident if one considers the cycle of the year. The exotikd are mainly associated with

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three times in the calendar year: the first days of March, the first days of August, and the twelve days after Christmas. In Greece, March is notionally the beginning of summer and August the beginning of winter (Megas 1963: 79, 145; Herzfeld 1977). At each of these times one is subject to attacks from the drymes, a sort of fairy. In many parts, in fact, the first few days of these months are themselves called drymes. One should not swim, wash clothes or one's hair, or cut wood during these times. 18 The end of the calendar year is perhaps the most important break in the annual cycle. In any case, the greatest number and variety of demonic beings manifest themselves at this time. Children born in the forty-day period leading up to Christmas, but foremost on Christmas Day, are said to become kalliktlntzaroi, nerai'des, strfngles, or gelloUdes, depending on which part of Greece you are in. 19 During the twelve days of Christmas, the kalliktlntzaroi or pagand (pagan beings), as they are sometimes called, emerge to plague people. They pollute food that is left out and extinguish the hearth fire by urinating on it. Like many of the exotiktl, they are not wholly evil, but ambiguous. When the priest comes to sprinkle the houses with holy water on Epiphany they are expelled, along with any other exotiktl in their company. An epiphany song from Kephallinia goes: 'HI..6ave m cj>oo"ta xat o cj>orna!J.!)s, x'11 xaga 11 ~t£YciATJ xat o aytaa!J.!)s. mee 0 KUQtOS !'US Et\; "tf]V mJYI'IV, Dependable 'Kat "tOV a"L rtaVVT] nagaxW..eL Dependable Mtya IJ.O'U a"L rtciVVTJ xat BaJt"tunfr, 'EM1 va flamiJOTJS 6eou 1tatliLTou"to noos va xa1100 liev £111tOQW Na flaJt"tfraoo eatva ox 1:ov ovgav6v nov fr)..6es va OVV"tQL\j.ITJS m etboo)..a Na xa"taJta"tfrOTJS "tOV ~at110va.

Epiphany has come and illumination; and great joy and the blessing of water. Our Lord has come to the spring, and he beseeches St. John. "My great St. John the Baptist, come and baptize the child of God." "I don't know how to do that; to baptize you from heaven; who has come to crush the idols and to conquer the demon." (Tommaseo 1842 3: 401).

The clustering of the exotiktl around liminal moments of the annual calendar suggests an involvement with transition. Yet it would be difficult to argue, as we have done for the times of day, that such moments by themselves arouse a sense of danger or otherwise call for any specific type of social (or antisocial) relations. Perhaps the demons principally mark time. They serve a chronometric function by calling attention to its passage (Leach 1971). LIFECYCLE AND GENDER

Moments of transition in the lifecycle render one vulnerable to attack from the exotiktl. Most attacks occur between birth and marriage, during which period

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there are several transitions: birth, churching, baptism, puberty, and marriage. Not all of these (e.g., puberty) are accompanied by set rituals. Yet clearly the number of transitions in youth far exceed those in middle and old age. This is not to say that middle-aged people never encounter the exotika, only that demonic attacks against them are usually motivated by reasons other than lifecycle transitions. Young people, on the other hand, may be attacked precisely on account of their youth and beauty. The actual physical vulnerability of infants and young children would no doubt have called forth explanations in terms of supernatural attack, especially in pre-World War II Greece when the general population was not familiar with biomedical models of illness. Miscarriages, infant mortality, and devastating childhood illnesses were all frequently blamed on the exotika, especially the gello. It is worth noting that many diseases are grammatically feminine in Greek (e.g., kholera, panoukla, vlogid, thermi, and gastera) and sometimes imaged as independent, animate female exotika (Skouteri-Didasklilou 1988: 55). Both gelloudes and nereids also attacked the mother, sometimes drying up her milk. Such attacks on the mother also impede her transition into full womanhood, since the successful birth of children sets the final seal on marriage. The transition from unmarried to married status is socially the most important rite of passage in Greek culture, and it is around this time that exotika

,-ytoj3rJ6iJxa!J.E xa( :n:(ow €atgacj>iJxa!J.E :ltTJYULVE'tE :ltUQ'tE 'tU ;ugucj>ta oa~ :ltUQ'tE 'tU €gyai..Eta oa~ :n:t'xQ'tE 'tU cj>t'xQ!J.UXa xa( av ~j3QE'tE UO:ItQO j3i..a'til x6cj>'tE UO:ItQO j3i..a'tu av ~j3QE'tE O:ltLOW j3i..a'tiJ x6cj>'tE O:ltLOW j3i..a'tiJ UV ~j3QE'tE X6XLVO j3i..a'tiJ XUL 1:6 O'tUUQWvEL !J.E 1:6 x6XLVO :n:av( FOR ERYSIPELAS

In the great country where we went there befell a great evil, most deathly. There befell erysipelas (anemopyroma, lit. "wind burn"), vounopyroma (lit. "mountain burn"), kokinopyroma (lit. "red burn"). We saw, we were afraid, we turned back. On the road Christ encountered them and asks them, ''What did you see that you were afraid and turned back?" And they say to him, "There befell an evil, most deathly. We saw, we were afraid, and we turned back." Go, take your razors, take your implements, take your medicine and if you find a white flower cut the white flower. If you find a reversed flower cut the reversed flower. If you find a red flower and he crosses it with a red cloth. COMMENTS

No instructions as to ritual action accompany this prayer. The last line, "he crosses it with a red cloth," is enigmatic but may refer to the laying of a red cloth on the patient. imellos (1962: 183) records several Naxiote spells against erysipelas, one with the following informant's comment: "We place a red cloth like a fez on [the victim]. Above it we make nine crosses from cotton and we light them with one match. Afterwards we place on a skull." In Phthi6tis, the charm against erysipelas involves spreading a red cloth over the person (specifically the part afflicted) and then five pieces of cotton are arranged in the form of a cross and lit with pieces of wood broken from a broom. Then the pieces of wood are flung away and the company says: ''As the wind goes, so may the erysipelas go." The victim is also rubbed with honey (P6mbos 1910: 464). The use of red cloths and cotton (or wool) candles has historical depth as is evident from a spell against erysipelas from a sixteenth-centwy Dodecanese manuscript published by Rouse (1899: 167). Erysipelas is treated on Cyprus by reading a spell (which in this case is very much like a standard prayer, involving sections from the Book of Matthew)

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over a glass of wine vinegar. The victim is then rubbed with the vinegar. This should be repeated three days running (from Cyprus; Khatziioannos 1984: 158--59). The main symptoms of erysipelas are a reddening of the face. The victim may break out in a rash and the skin will sometimes feel warm to the sufferer. Nowadays the illness is easily treated with sulfa tablets. The items used in the various accompanying practices (as well as their focus on the head) are all either red or conceptually red (honey, wine, vinegar). The flame of the candles in particular is both reddish in color and gives off heat, which identify it with the fever itself. In a spell from Gjtheion the whole world is colored red. 5 On Naxos it was sometimes a practice to go behind the church sanctum (ier6), urinate in the dirt, and rub this on a person (Imellos 1962: 184). Exactly who is speaking in the spell is not clear. In the closest variant from Naxos, it is the Agioi Anargyroi (Kosmas and Damian6s, The Penniless Saints; imellos 1962: 183; also Rouse 1899: 167), while a version from Cyprus refers to the twelve disciples of Christ who visit the "land" infected by erysipelas (Khatziioannos 1984: 159). The Agioi Anargyroi were traditionally said to have practiced medicine without charging a fee and they are the patron saints of doctors. "Razors, implements and medicine" were evidently the tools of the medical profession. The razor also appears in a Naxos variant (imellos 1962: 184) and might allude to the practice of bleeding, which was common in the Cyclades particularly at the beginning of March. 6 Razors may equally refer to another practice called vendouzes, which is usually performed in case of a severe cold, but is also reported as a treatment for bruises. For colds, the area of the back around and between the shoulders is rubbed. If it reddens, this is determined to be the place where the cold (kryoma) entered the body. The skin at this point is slit open with a razor and a warm glass (heated over a candle for a moment) is clamped over the area and kept on for several minutes. This draws out the blood and with it the source of the cold. The victim must then remain inside for at least twenty-four hours. For bruises, the cup is placed over the discoloration, the effect being to draw the blood out from the bruised area. Sometimes vendouzes are done without cutting the skin in hopes that the disease will simply pass through the skin. Such operations are called "empty vendouzes" (kouphies vendouzes). This possible allusion to blood letting reinforces the general red imagery of the spell. The meaning of the word vlatf is far from clear. My informant insisted that it was a type of flower. The expression k6phte opfso might mean "to trim back" as one would a flower. In a variant we find vlatt( [sic?] which imellos (1962: 184) glosses as a "Byzantine purple fabric," a reading that seems unlikely, considering that it is modified as "red," "white," and "sweet" in his own version. There is another word, vlat{s, meaning a sort of pimple or swelling of the

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skin (not containing pus) that is characteristically red in color. Perhaps we should consider vlatj to mean a flower, but also to draw homonymically on this sense of "pimple," which may call to mind one of the symptoms of the disease. Jaundice

This spell begins with an invocation to the Holy Trinity. At the bottom of the page was written "Prayer for jaundice" (Prosevkhf lkterou) and the date 1947. Ei.s 'to ovo11a Toii Ila'tgos xm 'toii uwii x.m 'toii aylou IlveuJ.la'tos. 'O'taV av£f3mve "" Ilavayla ei.s tO OQOS 'tci>v 'EA.mrov lxltiJVtTJOE 'tOV Nlx.'tOUQU x.al. 'tOU AEYI'J, Ilou :n:iis a:n:ero NtX.'tOUQa, A.tvftX.'tOUQa IIQelotV£ X.aL Khgtve, l:uvaywy£ 'toii )(.elQou x.m lxb£A.t 'toii 8avel'tou x.m tTJS A.Eyet :n:elyro vel eugro 'tov ('telbe, x.m M11e 'to ovo11a 'tOii lxgcbatou) Na 11:7tci> !1ES 'to oro11a 'tou J.lEOa OtO X.OUelQt 'tOU J.lEOa OtelS X.AT)bcboets 'tOU Vel 'tOU :n:tro 'tO ULJ.lU 'tOU va J.lUQelV(l) n;v x.ag{)tel 'tOU va tOV cj>EQffi on;v tEAEU'tata :n:voi) 'tOU 8aveltOU Kal. 'toii A.Eyet t1 Ilavayla Ntx.'touga Atvi)x.'tOUQa :rtQelotV£ x.m x.hgtve ouvaA.aye 'tOU )(.elQOU x.al. {x()£1..t 'tOU 8avel'tOU :rtotOS ooii bcboe 'tO btx.atroJ.la va J1:1tULV£tS oE :X.Qtattavtx.o a'LJ.la. l:£ t;ogx.l~ro, ei.s 'tO OvOJ.la 'toii uloii J.lOU x.m 8eoii J.lOU 'toii Kuglou TJJ.lWV 'IT)ooii Xgtatoii vlx £f3YYJS lx:n:o tov boiiA.ov (bei:va Vel :rtiiS va :ltEOTJS eLS 'tCx f3a8unga VEQCx Tijs 8al..elOOTJS x.al :n:loro va 11t1v yuglOTJs.) ail'to 'to M11e 'tQei:s og£s ato 'tEI..os 'toii x.el8e AEJ.lE 3 cj>oges 'tO avro els 'tO OvOJ.lU 'tOii Ila'tQOS x.. al... bTJ. 3 'tO :rtEQt£)(.. ov x.m 9 'tO chs avro J1E 'tO X.EQL 'tOU E:n:t'tacj>lou, OtO X.el8£ 'tEAOS 8a 'tO of3uvro va 'tO ;avavelf3ro t'hav Oel M11e £Ls voJ.lU x.'tl... x.a'to:n:tv 8el f3el~ro o£ eva :n:ott;gt x.gaowii 3 belx.'tul..a ge'tolva n;v f3£ga 'tou x.al 8el t:n:aval..aJ1f3elvro 'tel i.bta lxx.gtf3ros !1E 'toii agcbatou Ei.s 'to x.gaol lxv'tl. J1E 'to x.egl J1E 'to bax.'tul..lbt x.al 'to f3el~TJ ei.s 'tel aatga 3 f3gabutES :n:lVTJ x.el8e f3gMu lx:n:o A.lyo, n;v 3'1V f3gabmel Vel:X.TJ 'tel..etcbOTJ x.m t1 f3£ga J1EVTJ J1Eoa ato X.Qelot.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. When the Panagia was ascending the Mount of Olives she met the nfktoura Gaundice) and addressed him: "Where are you going nfktoura, linfktoura, green and yellow comrade of Charos and brother of Death?" And he replies, ''I'm going to find (so-and-so and we say the name of the ill person) in order to enter into his body, into his joints to wither his heart and bring him to the last gasp of Death." And the Panagia tells him, "Ntktoura, linfktoura, green and yellow comrade of Charos and sibling of Death, who gave you the right

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to enter into Christian blood? I exorcise you in the name of my son and my God, Our Lord Jesus Christ, that you shall come out of the servant (so-andso) and that you shall go and plunge into the deepest waters of the sea and never return.'' This prayer was accompanied by enigmatic instructions. The translation of these directions below incorporates explanatory remarks made by Kambanellis. We say this [prayer] three times. At the end of each [recital] we say, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" three times. That makes a total of nine times. At the end of each exorcism I extinguish a candle from the epitaphios (Christ's Easter bier) and relight it when we say "In the name of the Father.'' Then I put three fingers of retsina (resinated wine) in a wine glass along with the wedding ring of the ill person or another gold ornament and I repeat the same exorcism with the ring of the ill person in the wine instead of with the candle. Then I place the glass of wine with the ring under the stars for three nights and each evening (morning according to Kambanellis) the patient drinks a little. By the third evening they should finish and the ring should remain in the glass. COMMENTS

Like the prayer for erysipelas, spells against jaundice are well distributed in Greece and historically attested. The text of one spell from an eighteenthcentury Cretan manuscript instructs the practitioner to take seven chickpeas and put them in a cup with some gold (perhaps a gold ring, khrysaphz), fill this with water, and leave it out overnight under the stars (na astronomithousin; Mylonas and KoUkas 1978: 34). There seems to be an astrological component to many of the spells. Particularly important are the moon (which should either be full or new), and the stars, which are consistently referred to, especially in spells against warts (Blum and Blum 1970: 136, 155; imellos 1962: 185-86). The significance of astrological and meteorological phenomena in the spells, as well as in other rituals such as the kUdonas, is enormous and lies beyond the scope of this study. 7 A comparable spell against jaundice from Naxos is accompanied by the following ritual. Wine is put in a glass (quantity according to the age of the victim). An object of pure gold is placed inside, such as a wedding ring or any other ring without a stone. On top of the glass a pair of scissors is placed in the form of a cross. 8 This is put out at night under the stars and brought in before the sun comes up for three days in a row, the scissors always resting on the glass (lmellos 1962: 182). In the village of Komiaki on Naxos the female exorcist (xorkfstra) would take the afflicted person to the well and then return

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by another route at midnight. Again, a glass of water with a piece of gold in it is filled at the well (Imellos 1962: 183). The act of going to the well, drawing water, and not speaking to anyone is reminiscent of the klfdonas, a divining ritual in which rings and other identifying objects are placed in silent water (amflito ner6). This water is brought from the well by a young child, both of whose parents are still living. The child must not speak to anyone while bringing back the water. The jug with the silent water and the identifying objects is left out overnight and supposedly bewitched by the exotikd. 9 This imbues the objects with a mystical power. When they are pulled out, the couplets sung at that moment will come true for whomever the token identifies. A spell from northern Greece (originally in Vlach) for a nereid-possessed person (probably suffering from fever) makes it clear that it is the nereids themselves who must come and "mark" the glass of water that is left out overnight in order for the afflicted person to recover (Stewart 1985a: 239). In variants, the jaundice is said to go into the liver of the victim (Kyriazfs 1926: 84), a correct diagnosis of the organ affected in jaundice. In other versions the niktoura boasts that it will "eat" the "meat" of the victim without cooking it and drink its blood without a glass (Mylonas and Kollkas 1978: 34; Imellos 1962: 182). In this regard the disease is like an animal. In other versions niktoura is driven off into the hills to eat animal carcasses or else to disappear on to Mt. Ararat "where no plant sprouts and the cock doesn't crow" (imellos 1962: 182). 10 The idea of the nfktoura dropping into the depths of the ocean associates her with a whole class of female demons said to spring from or dwell in the deep (rythos; Barb 1966 passim). In the New Testament Jesus swears the demon out of the Gerasene (or Gadarene) demoniac (Matt. 8:28f.; Mark 5:1f.; Luke 8:26f.) into a herd of swine, which then plunge into the sea. Exorcisms of the female demon, gell6, share a narrative similarity with the spell against niktoura. In one, the gell6 encounters the Panagfa (Spyridakis: 1951), in others, the Archangel Michael or St. Sisfnnios (Greenfield n.d.), and it boasts how it will attack people. In some versions, the gell6 is chased and jumps into the ocean (imellos 1965: 44).U Jaundice often afflicts newborn infants, especially those born prematurely. Without medical care and proper facilities it must often have been the cause of death for infants in rural Greece. This feature of attacking infants may be a particular link with the gell6, which mainly harms children. Just as red was the color associated with erysipelas, so yellow (and green) are associated with jaundice, a condition in which the sufferer's skin actually does turn yellow or even pale green. The specification that a glass be filled with retsina may be because of its yellow color. The same would hold for the chickpeas or the use of gold (note that the disease itself is, in places, known

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as khrys(, gold). In a version from the Peloponnese the prayer is meant to be said while holding the yellow feet of a bird (Manolakos 1915: 611). Sunstroke

The following prayer was written on a small (4" any title or date.

X

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Down at the waterfront, down at the strand, there sit three maidens and they vomit and weep and pray to God. Then the Master, Christ, came by and said, "What's the matter, girls, that you vomit and weep and pray to God so?" "Master Christ of mine, aren't you able to tell the hidden from the evident? We have sun[stroke] and we vomit and weep and pray to God. And no fivefingered, five-nailed person has come to lay on three elbow lengths of scarf and a glass of water and say three times, 'In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.' And to remove the sun from a person's head.'' They do these things three times. Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. COMMENTS

This spell was accompanied by an involved practice, which Kambanellis and others described. The sick person was made to stand in the sun without a hat and the exorcist (usually an old woman, referred to as a gerondissa, and possibly related to the patient) would take a white cloth or scarf (mandfli) and measure from the tip of the victim's fingers to the elbow, making a knot each time to mark the length. She would measure three lengths, and tie three knots. She would then wet the edge of the cloth-just beyond the first knot-in a glass of water and make the sign of the cross on the forehead of the victim while reciting the above spell. This would be repeated three times in the same day: morning, midday, and evening. After wetting the whole scarf and allowing it to dry, the exorcist then remeasured the victim. If the cloth had visibly

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shrunk after the completion of the ritual, it was verification that the person had been cured. Rouse (1899) has published a sunstroke spell from a late eighteenth-century Coan manuscript and variants are known from Cephallonia (Pag6nis 1910: 468) and Cyprus (Kyriazfs 1926: 69). A comparable spell from Naxos includes the same ritual instructions, the only difference being that the girls lament on a mountain rather than at the seashore (imellos 1962: 185). 12 The theme of the three maidens lamenting to God is found in various spells other than those strictly for sunstroke. A prayer for erysipelas from Naxos begins, ''Down at the Jordan River sit three maidens and they lament their mother" (Imellos 1962: 183). Another prayer for erysipelas from Apefranthos (Oikonomfdis 1938) begins with three girls who also sit and lament their mother at the Jordan River. She died of erysipelas because ''no (female) Christian who has confessed on Ash Wednesday and communicated on Maundy Thursday could be found to exorcise her." Just as the theme of three maidens lamenting is not unique to sunstroke prayers, neither is the accompanying ritual practice. In a spell against jaundice from Cyprus (Khatziioannos 1984: 147), the victim is measured by a red thread (height), which is then left outside all night in a glass of water. The following day the victim drinks from this. The thread seems to stand for the whole person, its color for the flush of fever. The immersion in water symbolically cools the thread. The victim drinks, cooling the fever by "persuasive analogy" (Tambiah 1973). In this ritual the knotting of the cloth may be seen, essentially, as a binding of the disease. Binding (desimo) is one of the most basic concepts in Greek sorcery, and it is often conveyed by the action of knotting. 13 When something is bound it is constricted and unable to follow its proper and natural course. A groom who is bound (often by a spell cast at the wedding itself) will be unable to consummate the marriage. He usually carries a pair of scissors on his person during the ceremony to prevent any such spells from taking effect. 14 When a body is laid out for burial in Apefranthos there should not be any knots tied on the clothing and a man's jacket should be unbuttoned. Knotting is the opposite of unloosing (lyo), which is the desired effect at death. The soul should be unfettered to ascend toward heaven and the body should not be stopped from dissolving (Danforth 1982: 52). The theme of binding is ancient and seems to have been perennially present in Greek tradition (Petropoulos 1989; Moke 1975), especially in the context of casting erotic spells. A sixteenth-century Church canon bans "those resorting to binding spells (apodemata) and those plaiting ropes and calling on beneficent demons to aid and help either humans or animals to recover, and those practicing binding spells on married couples" (Rouse 1899: 153). The practice of using a thread to measure the victim and then checking for shrinkage is also found in north central Italy where the woman who performs

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it is called a misuratrice (measurer). One such misuratrice considered the practice to derive completely from the Catholic religion. She had learned the art on Christmas Eve (di Nola 1979: 31). On Crete measuring with a cloth is used in treatment for the evil eye (Wachsmuth 1864: 60). Herzfeld (1986) reports that it is still a current practice on that island. One difference from other parts of Greece is that the practitioner measures her (his) own arm rather than that of the victim. According to Herzfeld the cloth appears shorter because the arm of the practitioner expands during the performance of the spell. The people themselves contend that it is the disease, the evil eye, which eats the cloth. This cloth is a beneficent substance and it destroys the evil eye. On Cephallonia people say that the cloth appears shorter because the measurement is made first and then the knots are tied (Kosnuitos 1910: 188). On Naxos, contemporary informants attribute this difference to shrinkage. The Evil Eye

Spells for the evil eye are perhaps the only truly current and widespread form of spell on Naxos. Such prayers are recited if a person feels listless (adiathetos), exhausted (kommenos), or has a persistent headache or fever. The specific symptoms of the evil eye vary from person to person. In babies it may be manifested in their continual crying. The first criterion above, that of lacking diathesi (mood, motivation), is the classic general definition of evil-eye suffering. Kalf diathesi,joie de vivre, is highly valued on Naxos, as indeed it is throughout Greece. To lack diathesi is to be inactive, to sit at home and to take no joy in anything. In our own terminology adiathesi could be labeled a form of depression. Depression, of course, manifests itself in varied forms, and the plethora of symptoms corresponding to an attack of the evil eye (to mati) are similarly various. That the evil eye strikes people as a force from outside is assumed by everyone. It is particularly thought to be a projectile form of envy. If someone looks upon a person (or an object or animal) with envy then it is liable to be taken ill, or in the case of a mechanical item, to cease functioning. An electrician in Athens told me that in the early days of television there were no electricians based on the smaller Cyclades and he was sent television sets for repair in Athens. Upon uncrating the sets, he frequently found that they were packed with garlic and dead lizards to protect against the evil eye. Given the assumption that the evil eye attacks from without and typically is projected by someone, there are different means of protecting against it (Georges 1962: 70). The garlic in the above instance is just one such means; blue or red beads or strings are another popular apotropaic attached to the object in need of protection. The more prestigious the object, the more need it has of protection.

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Children remain the most valued and prestigious asset, and they are consequently protected in their infancy by various amulets, crosses, or blue eyes made of glass or plastic called matitistres (Hauschild 1980: 84). I often noticed these pinned to their clothes or to the inside of their carriages. If one encounters a mother and a newborn child, one must be careful not to compliment the baby; or if one does, one must either spit in the direction of the child, or make the sound of spitting, "phtou," or utter one or another apotropaic formulas such as "garlic" (sk6rdo), or "May the evil eye not catch him/her" (mtiti na min t6neltine pitisel). People whose eyebrows join or who have light blue or green eyes, and women who are menstruating may all give the evil eye, even if unintentionally. Another way to cast the evil eye is to take earth from the graveyard, curse the holies, and then cast the spell. Babies are not the only ones subject to the "eye." An old woman told me how she met two men on the road who greeted her and complimented her and even said, ''May the evil eye not catch you.'' The next day she was seized by terrible pains in her back, which she knew were the result of the evil eye cast by the men. A common word for the evil eye on Naxos is glossophagiti (lit. "tongue eating"), which was defined variously either as gossiping uncharitably about others (thus "eating them with one's tongue") or complimenting them directly and then biting one's tongue. The evil eye is cast in the voicing of unfelt praise or compliments ("tongue in cheek," as we would say). A young boy around the age of ten and his older sister told me that hardly a month goes by that their mother does not remove the evil eye from one of them. Obviously it happened frequently because they recited the following spell from memory: ~UO J.tcl'tLU OE J.tU'tLclOUVE

'tQLU OE ~EJ.t{l'tLaoav, Ila't'I'JQ, xm YL6~ xm 'AyLo IlvEuJ.ta, TQLa6a oJ.tOouoa xm axroQLO't'IJ. 'AyLm AvaQYUQOL 6auJ.tU'tOUQYOL O'I!.OQJtLOE'tE 6'tL xax6 x' av EXEL.

Two eyes bewitched you, Three un-bewitched you, Father and Son and Holy Spirit, Trinity, one-in-essence and indivisible. Penniless Saints, wonder workers Dispatch whatever ill he/she may have.

After the recitation of this spell a small cross is dropped into a glass of water. If it bubbles then one is bewitched, but the spell is bound to make it pass, especially when one yawns. It is, however, extremely important that once the evil eye has been diagnosed that it be treated, whether in the above fashion or with other techniques using silent words or candles and flowers saved from the epittiphios. Babies who are allowed to sleep without first undergoing a spell to unbewitch them are in danger of dying in their sleep. The act of yawning is often found in conjunction with evil-eye or other spells (Wachsmuth 1864: 60f.). It is excoriated in the canon law (Pidtilion, p. 274) as a practice of sorceresses. In some accounts it is the victim who yawns,

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in others the healer. Herzfeld (1986) reports that in evil-eye ceremonies on Crete the practitioner takes on the symptoms of the evil-eye sufferer. In so doing the healer demonstrates the power to "hold" the evil eye. In the case of the elderly woman cited above, when she dropped the cross into the water to unbewitch herself, a large bubble adhered to it. Even after she had pulled the cross out of the water the bubble was still clinging to it. She then sprinkled herself with the water from this cross and knew both that she had been given the eye and that she was on her way to recovery. Another practice on Naxos is to pour a little oil from an oil lamp (kandfli, usually found in churches) into a glass of water. If the oil mixes with the water, then one is bewitched. In the Dodecanese three drops of oil are dripped into the water and a prayer is said as each drop falls. The victim is then sprinkled with this water and oil mixture forty-one times (Rouse 1899: 164). There is, apparently, a basic principle of separation at work in evil-eye practices. In the case of bubbles it is the separation of air from water that indicates bewitchment, in the other it is the mixture of oil and water, which means that the victim is indeed suffering from the evil eye. The two practices appear to contradict one another. In the case of bubbles separation is bad, while in the case of oil separation is good. Perhaps the example of the bubble on the cross should be viewed as a case of mixture: the bubble adheres to the cross in the water. Separation occurs later, when the bubble is shaken off the cross. Understood in this way, it could be said that both rituals replicate the wish that any evil mixed up in the body of the sufferer should be separated. Some curing spells are also accompanied by a curse on the person alleged to have cast the evil eye. The following circulated widely on Naxos (cf. Herzfeld 1986): Av E(v' a:rc6 yuva(xa va :rtQTI8aA.J.&&v (3aoxav(av 'tWv KUK0:7tOLOOV :K.a( :7tOVTJQWv av8gc.lmoov alto 'tOU 6ouA.ou 00\J . . . xa( i\ im6 WQat&n]'toV, XUQLO"tfJ"tWV, clQ:l(OOV buVUf.1EWV,E;ouoLOOV,"tWV :rtOAUOflflU"tO>V XEQOUfilfl x(al) "tWV e;a:rt"tEQUYWV OE gatw tva flOL e'L:rtet~

Instructions for those possessed by demons: How to ask so that the demon will tell you its name. At this point seek to find out the name of the evil spirit. Seek to make him tell you: how many are with him, and to which class he belongs, and what the name of his leader is; under which power and authority he is; in which place he dwells; to whom he is subordinate; when he comes out; and what sign does he make when he comes out of the person? Be mindful when you are enquiring. Say, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; see and give." If it does [not] respond, take a piece of coal2 that is alight with fire and burn his tongue and face, or say this prayer: "I exorcise you, evil Devil, enemy of truth, by the awful and holy name of All-Powerful God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost to tell me immediately how your name is called. I adjure you by the holy angels, thrones, dominions, principalities, powers, and

256



Appendix 2

xW.Ei:'tm 'to 6 vo!W oou. ogxll;ro oE bta 134b. Tij~ u:n:Egayvou 8EO'tOXO\J ~taQta~. bta 'tOOV aylrov a :n:oO't61..rov 'tci>v ()6()Exa xal. 'tci>v Eubo~tlxrov'ta· bta Tij~ of3Ega~ x(al.) MtxaO'totJ XQLOEro~ x(al.) bta 'tOU ayto\J ai.~ta'to~ 'toii ~xx.u8Evt:o~ ~x Tij; :n:AEllQa; 'tOii xu f!~t( rov) t'I]OOU ')(.ii, bta 'tOOV etXOot 'tEOOUQWV :7tQEOf3\J'tEQWV 'tci>v bta :n:av'to~ :n:aQEO't6 'tWV 'tOV 8g6vov 'tOv a6ga'tOV 'toii 8wii xal. 'ljlaU6v'trov ail'tci>v 135. 'tOV axa'ta:n:atJO'tOV U~tVOV xal. bta :n:av'trov 'tci>v 8au~ta O'tOOV £gyov 'toii :n:av'tObtJ Vcl!I-0\J 8EOU 'tOOv ~ 0\JQa vv :n:go v6~tou xal. !1-E'ta VOII-OV bta 'tOOV aylrov bE Xa'tEOOUQWV ')(.tAtabrov V'l]:rttrov, 'tOOV u:n:o 'ljg6J()ou aVEQE8EV'tWV x( al.) bta :n:aV'trov, x(al.) :n:aoci>v 135b. 'tOOv ay(rov av()gci)v 'tE X( at) Yll VatXOOV. 'tOOv 'ta~ m:acj>uA.L, llQE'1tEL va'EvEL~ ~-t'6AoL cj>LAOL [sic].

If you want to eat grapes You have to be friends with everyone.

17. In proposing that certain emotional states might call forth other emotional states I have drawn on Greek monastic writers such as Gregory of Sinai and Scholarios, who considered certain root passions (pdthl) to be preconditions for the expression of other, subordinate passions (cf. Greenfield 1988: appendix). Needham (1972: 43) draws attention to the etymological connection between the words "love" and "belief" in English. 18. The similar efficacy of godparenthood (koumbarid) suggests that it is a contact

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with the sacred generally that is necessary for cycles of temporal violence to be conclude~vidence of the relative superiority of the religious in overall Greek ideology. Oaths sworn in secular contexts, such as in court on Naxos, are not nearly as efficacious as those sworn in church (Herzfeld 1985: 201). This situation is similar to that reported for the Moroccan Rif by Jamous (1981). There vendettas are only closed properly by resort to the mediation of holy men (choifa). CHAPTER THREE COSMOLOGY AND MORALITY

1. Failure to confess does not impede participation in communion. In fact, none of the priests on Naxos are legitimate confessors (xemolOgoi). This capacity requires the permission of the metropolitan ofParonaxfa (Paros and Naxos). 2. Fustel de Coulanges (n.d.: 151) states this point forcefully and with the insensitivity to modem Greece sometimes displayed by nineteenth-century classicists: As to the god of the human race, a few philosophers had an idea of him; the mysteries of Eleusis might have afforded a glimpse of him to the most intelligent of the initiated; but the vulgar never believed in any such god. For ages men understood the divine being only as a force which protected him personally, and every man, or every group of men, desired to have a god. Even to-day, among the descendants of those Greeks, we see rude peasants pray to the saints with fervor, while it is doubtful if they have the idea of a god. That God became man in the form of Christ is cited by John of Damascus as a founding precedent for icon painting (in Ware 1976: 4). 3. Cyril Mango (1980: 151) writes: Most importantly and quite naturally, the Byzantines imagined God and the Heavenly Kingdom as a vastly enlarged replica of the imperial court at Constantinople. If questioned on this point, they would probably have expressed the relation in the reverse order by saying that the emperor's court was a diminished reflection of the heavenly court. Whichever of the two was the '• archetype'' and whichever the copy, their mutual resemblance was taken for granted and it explains many manifestations of Byzantine religiosity. 4. Pina-Cabral (1986: 163) makes the valuable point that devotions should be examined in the light of culturally specific notions of exchange, not just on analogy with patron-client relations. Patron-client relations are informed by these same culturally specific notions but often, for political or historical reasons, assume unusual forms. 5. Defending their royalist convictions, the people of Apefranthos refused to acknowledge the government headed by Eleftherios Venizelos that had unseated King Constantine in 1917. When one of the villagers was wounded by the gunshot of the government troops, he reportedly cried out: 'Haa flUX Z'I'J"tw "tou ~ami..ux 'Haa XL c'tUTJ ZTJ"tW "tOU )CQL :rtcli..L.

I've taken one hit; Long live the King. I've taken another; Long live the King again.

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• 267

6. During my stay one chapel was built in the lowlands by the parents of a young man who was killed when the tractor he was driving turned over. Recently more churches have been built in the lowlands, reflecting the relative prosperity of this zone in relation to the mountains. On a recent visit to Naxos (July 1989) I saw a chapel being built in the lowlands in honor of St. Eirini Khryssovolandou. An infant had fallen and was seriously injured. On the ferryboat conveying it to hospital in Athens the mother promised to build a church if the child could be saved. 7. Two well-known examples are the construction of the Photod6tis Monastery near Danak6s (Kephalliniadis 1971: 92; 1968) and the church of the Panagia Drossiani near Moni (Kephallinilidis 1971: 124). 8. One of my informants was Markos Legilis, a descendant of Doumbrogiannis, discoverer of the icon. 9. Bent (1885: 233) was very skeptical of the Tinos icon and pilgrimage, calling the arrangement ''a cleverly conceived plan.'' The French priest Pegues, resident on Santorini at about this time, cynically tells of a fraudulent attempt to "discover" an icon on Naxos. His suspicions support my contention that icons were found as competitive responses to other discoveries: C'est par une supercherie de ce genre qu'a l'ile de Tinos les Grecs ont bati une des plus belles eglises qu'ils aient dans l'Archipel. La ruse a ete si bien couverte, les miracles et les visions si extraordinaires, le peuple si simple et si credule, qu'aujourd'hui cette eglise est devenue un lieu celebre de pelerinage des plus trequentes de toute la Grece. On y arrive de partout pour aller accomplir les voeux qu' on a faits a la Sainte-Vierge, ou y chercher des guerisons miraculeuses. Un pretre de Naxie, ayant voulou demierement faire aussi entendre le voix du ciel a travers la fente ou dans le creux d'un rocher, derriere lequel il se tenait cache, a fait d' abord crier toutes les iles au miracle. Deja on pensait a batir une eglise a grands frais, pour y recevoir les pelerins, les voeux et les offrandes de tousles devots de 1' Archipel; mais le maladroit ne sut pas jouer parfaitement son role, ni bien couvrir sonjeu; il fut decouvert, denonce au gouvemement, pris, garotte et conduit, dit-on, a Athenes, pour s'y repentir d'avoir mal reussi; et il subit la peine de sa supercherie et de sa maladresse. (1842: 548-49) 10. It seems that a number of communities possess valued icons that they consider to be the work of St. Luke ( Hirschon 1989: 223; cf. Litsas 1983). 11. Sophia Emmanuel, personal communication, November 26, 1986. 12. These lines are spoken near the end of the liturgy, just before the recitation of the Creed and the administration of holy communion. Historically (in the development of the liturgy) this was the moment when all non-Christians, even catechumens, were made to leave the church and the doors were bolted to preserve the essential mystery of Christianity (Schmeman 1974). 13. The yalou herself said, "whoever has them [the names] at home or on a phylactery I am not able to harm, but must always keep three miles distance, unto the ages" (6:n:ow~ "ta EXEt et~ "tov o(xov "tou TJ Et~ cpuA.axn'JQtov ou ltTJ abtxt'Joro au"t6v, aAA.a va A.E(:n:ro Et~ ~tlA.ta "tQLa Et~ "tou~ mwva~; Oikonomidis 1940: 69). For other versions of Gello exorcisms, see Perdrizet 1922: 16; Pradel 1907: 23, 28; Delatte 1927: 618. Greenfield (n.d.) edits a manuscript held in the Bodleian library (d'Orville 110). 14. Nowadays the word stoikhefo means "element, component," and the word

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• Notes to Chapter Three

stoilcheio, "ghost, spirit." Both concepts developed together, which is why these spirits are still so closely associated with places or with the planets that were also referred to by this name. On stoikhefalstoikheia, see Blum and Blum 1970: 303; Blum 1946; Burkert 1959; Greenfield 1988; Du Cange s.v.; and Chantraine s.v. At Gal. 4:3, Paul declares that before the coming of Christ "even we, when we were infants, were in bondage to the spirits of the world" (oil,;wr; xat ili'Eir;, 61:E ~I'EV vfpnm, im:o ,;a o-tOL)(Eia ,;oii x6aJWU fti'E6a 6E6o\lwl'£vm). The sense of stoikhefa as "spirits" was beginning to be felt. 15. According to Bardanis (1971), the name of the area was first KWJxl:-w;oL)(Eia (Good Elements), later KaA.a l:-w;oL)(ELa (Good Spirits), and then underwent grammatical transformation to reach its present form Ka/..1] l:"tOL)(ELa "in order to hide the truth" (of the precious deposits?). I was told that families who owned land in this region received nicknames referring to these metals: Tsfngos (tin), Khalk6s (brass), Pangalos (precious). 16. Revenants are not shadowy, translucent apparitions like ghosts in English and American representations. The chief indication that people have become revenants is when their bodies are found to be undecayed at exhumation. There are numerous causes for this condition (see Lawson 1910: 375; du Boulay 1982), among which figure lack of proper burial, violent death, or an unrescinded curse. The preoccupation with the condition of the corpse at exhumation figures in the image of the revenant itself. Revenants have swollen and distended bodies replete with hair and nails, horribile visu, and may emit noxious gas or even flames. This feature of bloatedness earned them the name tymbaniafoi (drums, tympanies) in various seventeenth-century accounts (Allatius 1645; Angelus 1679: 50-52, Du Cange s.v. 1:\l!IJtav(TIJr;). According to Angelus, if one struck their bodies they resounded like drums. Consistent with this fixation on the state of the corpse, the way to destroy a revenant was to destroy the corpse that it animated, either by hacking it to bits, cremation, or both. This should preferably be done on a Saturday when the revenant spirit rests in the corpse (see Tournefort 1718 1: 103; Allatius 1645: 142). There are conflicting views of revenants as real in themselves or as fantasies sent by the Devil (see Appendix 2, last part; Pidalion, p. 623; Syn Kan 5: 234). Lawson discusses these two tendencies as well as the view of the Church (1910: 396ff.). Part of the confusion is no doubt caused by the broad semantic field of the verb, lyollyono (Proias s.v. AELOOvw, A.uw; cf. Danforth 1982: 52), which contains the notion of bodily "dissolution" as well as spiritual "absolution" (cf. Matt. 18:18; Lawson 1910: 401). A person who was alytos was potentially both unforgiven and undissolved. Mouzakis (1989) presents a full collection of materials for the study of Greek vampires, while Barber (1988) examines traditions from throughout the Balkans. 17. The following quotation from Abbott (1903: 250) is relevant, although one may take exception to his wholehearted espousal of Tylor's theory of animism, which he apparently considers to be a verifiable human instinct rather than a model to describe the religious practices of various societies:

Nowadays it [the word stoikheia] is applied both to demons and to human souls or ghosts, in fact to spiritual beings of all denominations. This confusion is evidently due to the universal animistic doctrine, according to which, ''Souls of dead men are

Notes to Chapter Three

• 269

considered as actually forming one of the most important classes of demons or deities." (Citation from E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture, 2: 111) 18. The youngest age set was vaguely interested in the traditional sorts of supernatural powers such as the exotilca, but much more curious about new forms of Eastern mysticism such as Zen, Tantra, and Yoga that come from outside Greece (Stewart 1989). 19. On generational time, see Lis6n-Tolosana (1966: 200ff.) and the remarks of Davis on the importance of this idea for Mediterranean anthropology generally (Davis 1977: 257ff.). Hirschon (1983a) examines generational time in a specifically Greek context. Another example comes from my own research among speakers of Greek in South Italy (Stewart 1978). In 1820 the German philologist Witte visited Calabria and discovered the Greek language still being spoken, but only by the elderly. Thus he reckoned it would vanish within twenty or thirty years, when these old people passed away. At the time of my research in the late 1970s, Greek was still spoken in this area, again only by the elderly. Apparently people live until old age with a passive knowledge of the language, which is then transformed into an active ability. 20. Nikos Kephalliniadis, personal communication. 21. For a Cretan parallel, see Llewellyn Smith 1965: 130ff. 22. The research of Greek folklorists who have pursued prolfpseis and deisidaimonfes as categories of research provides ample documentation. In the 1962 index to the first twenty volumes of the Greek journal of folklore, Laographfa, there are seventyone entries under the rubric "6£LOL6mJWvlm xm 6eLm6alJWV£\; O'Uvf]8£Lm" (superstitions and superstitious customs). Some examples of individual studies are Stamollli-Sarandi 1951, 1952; Megas 1943, 1951; Asvesti 1962. In my own field notes I have more than seventy items that would be classed as prolipseis (by Greek folklorists' standards). Examples: If you catch a bat, you will make a good marriage. If you nail a piece of net behind your door, it will catch evil. Soap must never be handed directly to anyone, but set down first. When an owl cries at night, or a dog barks, it means that someone will die. When a cat licks itself on the north side this means the weather will come from that direction. 23. Cited from the magazine To Pondfki (November 17, 1983): 3.1--0L 6La---------------4---+---~~~ --~---r--~-------------
ats) or binding rites (l>eot~ta'ta), but stand bravely and endure will triumph over suffering like the martyrs" (cited in Pidalion, p. 274). In the fifteenth century Joseph Bryennios wrote, in his tract entitled "What are the causes of our present misery?" (Ttves ahtes 'trov xa!l' 1J!liXS AU:7t1]Qiirv;), that "for every illness, charms are our crutch" (cited in Koukoules 1948: 241). 3. Another example of a tenacious "superstition" would be the klidonas, a rite that involves jumping over fires on the eve of the feast of St. John the Forerunner (celebrated on June 24) and prophesying by means of "silent water." Jumping over fires was expressly forbidden under the strictures of Canon 65 ratified at the Council in Trullo (Pidalion, p. 278). This ruling clearly did not eradicate the custom, for the Patriarch Michael Anchialos ( 1169-77) found the klfdonas widely practiced in the city of Constantinople. He instructed parish priests to ensure that it was discontinued in their districts. This was done, and according·to Balsamon, it did indeed cease for a while (MPG 137-38, c741; cf. Oeconomos 1918: 226). In all probability it did not desist for long. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when folk practices began to be reported throughout Greece, the klfdonas was found to exist almost everywhere. Bartholdy (1807 2: 145) reported it for Naxos. The wide distribution of this rite and the local variations in its performance suggest a long historical development (Lawson 1910: 304ff.; Thumb 1892). It may not therefore be assumed that Church proscriptions do, or ever did, successfully eliminate those rites that it labels "superstitious." As pointed out in Chapter 4, the klfdonas is today being revived on Naxos. 4. I thank Kambanellis for his permission to make these spells public.

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• 287

5. The text of the spell (Manolakos 1915: 610) is as follows: o 't001tcl'VTI\;, O'tU X6XXLVQ V'tllJ.LEvO\;, J.LE 't'I]V x6xxL'VTl 'tOU Qc'xf}llo, J.LE\;' O'tU X6XXLVQ 'tU QOUJ(U 'tO\l. IlaEL yLa m 1tQ6f}a'ta 'tou. 'Asacj>va 'tov EJ.L1tollt~EL o XQLO't6\; x' TJ Ilavay(a J.LE 'tO 6au).o 't'l]\; cj>OYtLcl\;, jl.E 'tO x6XXLVO J.L1tUXLQL. IlclVO\l O'tOL\; XEV'tLE\; 'tO aUQEL, XL an' 'tOV 't61tO 'tO\l 't6vE flya~EL, UU't6v 'tOV X6XXLVO 't001tclVE, XUL J.LE 't1] cj>OO'tLcl 'tOVE XU(EL, xm xa86>..ou liEV 'tO AEEL. T6'tE afl{JvEL 't' 6voJ.LU 'tOU XUL Y\JQEUEL 't1] llouAELcl 'tO\l. Avacj>OQt~EL jl.E\;'

The shepherd ascends, dressed in bright red, with his red crook, in his red clothes, he goes to tend his sheep. Suddenly Christ and the Panagia block his way with the fiery brand, with the red copper. Over his sores he draws it and he dislodges it from its place that red shepherd, and he bums him with fire, and he doesn't say anything. And his name is extinguished and he returns to his work.

A nineteenth-century manuscript held in the Khozovi6tissa Monastery on neighboring Amorgos recommends that people be bled every March to rid themselves of bad humors that build up over the winter (Kostis Prassinos, court secretary, Naxos, personal communication). 7. A practice known as lekanomande(a (divining by bowl) is described in numerous manuscripts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (Delatte 1927, 1932, 1959; see Ill. 30). In one of these, the bowl filled with water and various objects (a sheep's bone and a sprig of laurel) is left out overnight under the stars (va llmQovo,W.'tm; Delatte 1959: 306). These earlier manuscripts discuss lekanomandefa in the context of zodiac symbolism and astrology in general. See also Halliday 1913: 147ff. 8. Although the scissors here represent the cross, it should be noted that cutting the labial frenum is, in some parts, said to cure jaundice (Blum and Blum 1970: 155). 9. According to one account, water is left on the roof overnight "so that the nereids may come down and bless it" (va ayLaaouv 'tO vEQ6; Vo11rnas and Garfdi 1979: 182). 10. Legrand (1881 2: 17) presents a spell against migraine (imfkranon) that swears it out, "to go to Mt. Ararat, where the s(mandron [wooden instrument sounded to call people to prayer] is not heard, where the cockerel's voice is not heard; there you should eat, there you should drink, there you should come to terms with your temper" (EXEt 'tOV 8uf.L6v aou va liLaj:}c'xOTJ\;). Compare Pradel 1907: 16. On the antiquity of this sort of curse, see Versnell985: 253ff.; Lawson 1910: 15. 11. In Legrand's spell against migraine, the disease is said to come "from the depths of the ocean" (an6 'ta f}a!lTJ 't'l]\; 8c'xAaaaa\;; 1881 2: 17; cf. Barb 1966). Interesting comparative material may be found in the Muslim traditions of Salomo and Karina. Salomo seems to be Solomon and Karina a female demon similar to the gell6. In one spell Salomo throws her into the sea (Winkler 1931: 32; cf. Kriss and Kriss-Heinrich 2: 1962). 12. Joseph Munitiz informs me that sunstroke spells are still performed on Syros and was kind enough to provide the following examples that he collected:

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Notes to Chapter Nine

'HJ..LE :ltMUJIDQcpE, XaL UX'tLVOjX>AL!livE, !lE 'tLc; ax'tlvec; oov m£Qaoec; ~Jioa O'tO xecpCU..L 'toube ('tabe) xm 11'fiyec; lliXQL 'ta x6xoA.a 'tTJc; xecpaA.iJc; 't01J. cpuye, o'tsoQXL~W ( +) O'taXOO'tEOOEQ« 001J YQCt!!!!«'ta sOQXL~W. Ptse 'tLc; ax'tlvec; oov O't'I'Jv eaA.aooa va :nLeic; veQ6, va :nac; O'ta 6QTI, O'ta 6a011, O'ta fJovva, O'tLc; ALI'Vec;, O'ta :ltO'tCti!L«, exet :nov bev xa'tmxouv 'ta ~wa ou'te av6Q!.O:nm. Na V£Q6 va mete; O'tTJV eaA.aooa XQL a:n6 'tOV bouA.o 001J ('tabe) v'esoQXlo&rJc;.

Sun, most beautiful and radiant, You have entered with your rays into the head of (so and so) and you went right into the bones of his head. Leave, I exorcise you (make sign of cross); I exorcise you down to your twenty-four letters. Cast your rays into the ocean to drink water; may you go to the mountains, to the woods, to the lakes, to the rivers, there where neither animals nor people dwell. May you drink water from the ocean and be exorcised from your servant (so and so). Ka'tw O'to yLaA.6, xa'tw O'to :neQLyLaA.L, 'tQELc; I!LAL xa60V'taV Kat XLAL6V'taV Kat sLAL6V'tav XUL 'tOV 8£6v :ltUQ«XUAoUOaV. Kat o 8e6c; :ltEQaoe, Kat 'tovc; A.£yeL, "TL EJCE'tll av'tou xaL xLA.L60'te xat f;EQVL60'te xaL 'tOV 6e6v :naQaxaA.an;" '' An:6 iJA.Lo EJCOI!£, xaL ~.LA.Lol!l'tl!£ xat !;eQVL6!WJ.Lil xat 'tOV 6e6v 11«Q«XaAoUj.LE." Kat o 8e6c; e(:ne, "cpuye o iJA.Loc; a:n6 'tOV xecpCU..L 'toube ('tabe) xaL aV'tL O'ta 6Q11 xat O'ta fJovva.''

Down at the shore, down at the strand, three thousand [?] sit and writhe and vomit and they beseech God. And God passed by and said to them, "From what do you suffer that you writhe and vomit and beseech God?" "We have sun[stroke] and writhe and vomit and beseech God." And God said, "Depart, sun, from the head of (so and so) and go off to the mountains and to the hills." This spell is accompanied by a measuring procedure except that here, if the cloth is longer on second measurement, then the person has sunstroke. I include one more unpublished variant from Milos: Ka'tw O'to yLaA.6, xa'tw O'to :neQLYLCU..L JtLALOL !!UAOL xaA.6y£QOL xa!JOV'tat Kat f;EQVCtV£

Down at the shore, down at the strand one thousand monks sit and vomit

Notes to Chapter Nine x.at 'tOLQAclVE. To Xgun:6 avE!;TJ'taVE XQta-t£ !J.OU, 'ta xgucpa !;£QEt~ 'tU aVEQcl liEV stQEL~ 'ID..to £xo~tEV xm !;EQVall£ x.m 'tatQAclllE xm 'tO XQta-t6 ava~TJ'tclll£. T6'tE A£Et 0 XQta-t6c;· TiclQE XOQ«xetov 1:67--69. Delmm1zos, D. P. (.1EA.jW'(J~os, .1. II.) 1971 .dfiiJOTtxta,.W~ xat 1ratf>ela. Athens: Rallis. Detienne, Marcel 1978 "Demoni." In Enciclopedia N: Costituzione-Divinazione, 559-71. Torino: Einaudi. Diadokhos of Photikf (.1tMoxos 't"IJS cjiW'ttx'I'Js) 1966 Keljlti}..ata rvroO'ttxa Q. Ed. E. des Places. Paris: Editions du Cerf (Sources cbretiennes). Dialektos, D6ris (.1taA.txTos, NT6Q11s) 1979 Nepatf>e~. xaUtxaVT~apot, fJpvx6)..axe~ O'tt~ )..ea{Jtaxt~ 1rapaf>6uet~. Athens: n.p. Diehl, Charles 1930 "De quelques croyances byzantines sur la fin de Constantinople." Byzantinische Zeitschrift 30:192-96. Dieterich, K. 1925 "Hellenistische Volksreligion und byzantinisch-neugriechischen Volksglaube." Angelos 1:2-23. Dimen, Muriel, and Ernestine Friedl (eds.) 1976 Regional Variation in Modern Greece and Cyprus: Toward a Perspective on the Ethnography of Greece. New York: Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 268. Dimitriou, N. (ai/Jtxa Tfl~ IaiJOv. Athens: n.p. di Nola, Alfonso M. 1979 lnchiesta sul Diavolo. Bari: Laterza. Dionisopoulos-Mass, Regina 1976 "The Evil Eye and Bewitchment in a Peasant Village." In C. Maloney, ed., The Evil Eye, 42--62. New York: Columbia University Press.

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Index

Abbott, G. F., 215, 268n.17 Abrahmse, Dorothy, 276n.26 Adam and Eve, 82, 141, 143, 177, 178,209 aerika, 220, 251, 274n.9 Alexiou, Margaret, 7, 16, 93, 128, 160, 170 Allatius, Leo, 268n.16 ancient Greece: attitudes toward, 5-7, 9, 25 Androutsos, Khrfstos, 141, 144, 273n.4 angels, 141, 144, 215, 274n.10, 276n.27; fallen, 141, 144, 292n.3 Angelus, Christophorus, 268n.16 Antony, Saint, 154 Apeiranthos, 44-49, 263n.2; Cretan origins of, 45-46; dialect of, 45, 46; employment in, 59; farming and herding in, 59-63, 7273; politics in, 63-66 apotropaics, 151 , 207; circles as, 167; against the Devil, 144, 151, 237; against evil eye, 232-33, 237; against exotika, 5, 111, 151, 207, 208; names as, 55 Appel, Willa, 291n.25 ardpides, 103, 171, 251 Ardener, Edwin, 107 Ardener, Shirley, 108 Armenians, 171, 251 armenides, 171, 251 Amaud, Louis, 224, 235,240, 289n.l5, 290nn. 20 and 21, 29ln.25 astrology, 131, 149, 241, 272-73n.21 Athens: emigration to, 2&-30, 59; and new occultism, 131-34 Augustine, Saint, 3 Austin, J. L., 213, 284n.3, 291n.27 Babcock, Barbara, 180 baboulas, 170, 251 Badone, Ellen, 10-11, 264n.11 Bakhtin, M., 249 Balsamon, 274n.l4, 286n.3, 293n.11 baptism, 55, 177-78, 195-210, 244-45, 28182n.l; dangers prior to, 55, 100, 195-97, 205; effective against exotika, 151; as exorcistic, 55, 154, 198-99, 207-10, 237, 283n.l8; structure of, 20~; symbolism of, 204-7

Barb, A. A., 229, 277n.30, 284n.6 Bames, Barry, 118 Basil, Saint, 212; exorcism of, 213, 214, 216, 217,220,221,259,290n.l6 Beaton, Roderick, 89, 163, 277n.5 Beidelman, T. 0., 180, 189 belief, 12, 16, 74, 76, 78, 82, 95, 9&-97, Ill, 131;andlove, 74,144 bells, 71-72 Bendix, Reinhard, 270nn. 2 and 3 Bennett, Gillian, 108 Bent, Theodore, 45, 267n.9 Benveniste, Emile, 248, 264n. 7 Bemard, H. Russell, 264n.6 Bialor, Perry, 264n.6 Blok, Anton, 183 Bloom, Allan, 114 Blum, C., 268n.l4 Blum,EvaandRichard,9, 167,169,170, 177, 182,217, 224, 228, 268n.14, 270n.27, 290-9ln.22 B&her, Otto, 283n.18 body, 92, 143, 180-83, 202, 273n.7; Christian conceptions of, 77, 143; deformations of, 180-82; and the demonic, 218-19; sealing of, 208-10, 237 Boedeker, Deborah, 278n.8, 279n.l7 Bogomilism, 148, 274n.ll Bourdieu, Pierre, 81, 120, 122, 123, 127, 271n.7, 272n.l4 Bourdillon, M. F. C., 261n.3 Brandes,Stanley,264n.11 Brown, Peter, 154 Bryennios, Joseph, 286n.2 Buondelmonti, 45 Burkert, Waiter, 268n.14 Campbell, J. K., 9, 68, 80, 99, 160, 165, 170, 181, 183, 198, 277n.8, 290n.17 carnival,44, 71,130 Chadwick, Henry, 154 Charos, 7, 8, 16, 160,227, 251 cheesemaking, 6&-67 chrism, 78, 201, 210, 211 chrismation, 201-2

324



Index

Christ, 11, 12, 53, 74, 80, 102, 142-43, 144, 147,167,178,179,201,208-9,225,230, 236,241 Christian, William, 10--11 Christopher of Tilos, Saint, 154-56, 276n.28 churches: foundation of, 24, 32-34, 83-87, 90--91, 165-66, 267n.6. See also Orthodox Church churching, 100, 151, 282n.7 circles: and dance, 177; protect against demons, 166-69, 172, 242. See also apotropaics Clement of Alexandria, 275n.l7 Codellas, P., 169 cognition, xv; cultural figures in, 12-14, 164; and images of exotikd, 16; and morality, 15; and narrative motifs, 89-90; and rationality, 116-20. See also imagination; moral imagination Columbus, Christopher, xv-xvi communion, 74, 76-77, 266n.1, 267n.12 cosmology, xvi, 5, 7-12, 102, 216, 221, 246-47; debatable plurality of, 5-6, 8, 98; political metaphors and, 98-99, 248, 266n.3; religious, 7-12; structure of, 11, 146,153,161,248, 275n.l7. See also ideology; religion; worldview Cowan, Jane, 70, 272n.16 Creed, 76, 267n.12 Cregg, R., 154 Crick, Malcolm, 15 crosses, 144, 225, 228, 230, 274n.9; at baptism, 200, 201, 208-9, 283-84n.21; ward off exotikd, 5, 100, 101, 144, 169, 256, 278n.11. See also apotropaics crossroads, 39, 152, 172, 263n.11 cunning (poniria), 62-66, 111-13; as attribute of Devil, 62-63; and gender, 73 cupping (vendm4zes), 226 curses, 38-39, 229, 238-39, 287n.l0 Cyprian, Saint, 195, 197 Cyril of Jerusalem, Saint, 280n.25, 282n.IO, 283n.l7 dance, 117, 177 Danfortb,Loring,6, 12, 74,137,139,231, 240 daoutis, 169,184,251 Davis, John, 269n.19 death: and Charos, 16; and salvation, 52-53, 58,201,205,208-9

Delatte, Armand, 150, 244, 267n.l3 Delatte, Louis, 214,215,216, 217, 219,220 Delmo6zos, A., 125, 27ln.9 demons, xv-xvi, 3, 137, 145, 148, 180, 216, 255-59; as ambiguous, xvi; and fallen angels, 141, 144, 220; metamorphoses of, 144, 151, 156, 276n.28; in Orthodox tradition, 141, 144; secret names of, 215; as translation of exotikd, xv, 247. See also exotikd demoticism, 124-25, 27lnn. 9, 11, and 12 Detienne, Marcel, 215 Devil, xvi, 7, 10, 55,99-100, 147, 170, 177, 186,206-7,212, 236, 251; in animal form, 104-5, 144, 156; at baptism, 199; and cunning, 62-63; at exorcism, 213; and exotikd, 8, 104, 105, 149-53; in iconography, 144; and nondoctrinal devil, 152-53, 275n.22; opposed to God, 91, 97, 141-42, 146, 153, 191, 206-7,221, 274n.11; origins of, 141, 149, 274n.16; in Orthodox tradition, 14153, 217, 276n.25; and social difference, 38-42, 170--71, 188. See also demons; exotikd Diadokbos of Photild, 183 didvoloi(devils), 99,176, 177,181, 251; conftated with exotikd, 151-52 Dimitriou, N., 241 Dimftris, Saint, 81 di Nola, A., 232 Dionisopoulos-Mass, Regina, 289n.14 diseases: blocked by saints or sacra, 24-25, 167, 169-70; brought on by exotikd, 102, 169, 174, 219-20; cured by exotikd, 160; cured by saints, 24-25, 91-96; cured by spells, 224-37. See also illness divination, 149, 243. See also klidonas; lekanomandefa doctrinal and local traditions, xvi, 8-14, 14849,150--53,168,216-17,222-23,235, 243,244-48 Dodds, E. R., 149 dogs: exotikd as, 187-88; Turks as, 187-88 Dolger, F. J., 283nn. 3 and 21 dowry,49-50 Dragoumis,fon, 124,271n.9 drakoi (ogres), 55, 189-90, 251 dreams, 172, 179, 183; and death, 53; and miracles, 3, 86, 88, 90--91, 92, 93-95 Drettas, Georges, 281n.34 drymes (seasonal spirit), 173, 279n.18

Index Dubisch, Jill, 68, 90, 91, 137 du Boulay, Juliet, 80, 108, 167, 177, 178, 224, 264n.4, 268n.l5 Duerr, Hans Peter, 150, 172 Dum~zil, Georges, 273n.l Dumont, Louis, xvi, 14, 68, 138, 191, 235, 247, 248, 269n.26, 273n.l Dundes, Alan, 164 Durkheim, Emile, 34, 26ln.5, 273n.1 Easter, 52-53,59,77,105,142,167,198, 205, 283n.l1 education, 28, 31, 60, 121; and changing view of exotikd, 28-29, 128-29; and emigration,28;andidentity, l26-27,272n.l4 Eirini Khryssovol6ndou, Saint, 93, 267n.6 Eitrem, S., 283n.20 Eliade, Mircea, 132, 277n. 7 Elworthy, F. T., 234 emigration, 26-30, 121; from Naxos, 24, 52 Emmanuel, Sophia, 40, 84, 263n.l3, 267n.l1 emotions, 61, 73-74, 265n.17 Epiphany, 51, 52, 173, 252 etymology, 32, 47-48, 121-22, 149, 182, 216, 26l-62n.l0, 262n.8, 264nn. 6, 7, and 10, 270n.6, 279nn. 12 and 13, 207-8; folk, 29, 45; in the study of ideology, 167-68, 278n.8; and survivalism, 4 European Economic Community (EEC), 22, 59,63 Evans, Ernest, 197 Evans-Pritchard, E. E., 104, 138 evil, 15, 102, 113-15, 139, 141, 143, 146, 177, 221, 236, 274n.l1; and ambiguity, xvi, 173; metamorphosis as, 104, 151, 183, 186-89; plurality as, 215, 220 evil eye, 232-33; spells against, 196, 224, 232-37,241,243 exorcism, 151, 211-21, 255-59; at baptism, 207-10; and parts of the body, 218-19; and sealing, 209, 219 exotikd, xv, 3-4, 15, 88, 115, 117, 189,216, 237, 251-53; as animals, 104-5, 156, 169, 183, 187, 220, 276n.28, 281n.32; as antiaesthetic, 182; Beauty of the Mountains, 171, 215; conftated with Devil, 8, 99-100, 104, 105, 149-53, 197, 216; considered "superstitions," 8, 99, 148, 151; definitions of, xv, 247, 249, 261-62n.10, 274n.14; different kinds of, 15-16, 100, 162, 183-87, 251-53; and disease/illness,

·

325

92,102,167,169,174,219-20,221,229, 237, 269n.24; interdependent with Christianity, 5, 8, 76, 91, 98-99, 154, 161, 244, 246-48;asinversions, 180-83,189-91, 249; and lifecycle, 173-75, 279n.20; as mediators, 99, 153; and modernization, 29, 108-11, 116-34; as morally opposed to Christianity, 91, 97-99, 101, 154, 161; and music, 152; and space, 164-71, 217-18; and symbolic similarities to Christian saints, 8, 154, 156-59, 161, 244; and time, 172-73, 216-17. See also demons; Devil fairy tales (paramjthia), 50, 164; as lies, 112 Farriss, Nancy, 12, 261n.3 Fauriel, Claude, 122, 271n.8 Favret-Saada, Jeanne, 108 Femandez, James, 261n.3 folklore, 5, 122-25, 128; and objectification, 129-30, 246; taxonomic tendencies of, 163-64, 277n.3 folklorists, 5--6, 9, 123-25, 129; and cultural continuity, 6, 26ln.2 Forsyth, Neil, 141 Foucault, Michel, 128 Frazer, J. G., 270n.5 Freedman, Maurice, xvi, 13-14 Friedl, Ernestine, 129, 134 funeral laments, 115 Fustel de Coulanges, 33-34, 266n.2 Geertz, Clifford, 96, 273n.1 gello (child-stealing demon), 100-101, 151, 162,173,196,214,215,229,251, 267n.13 gender: and complementarity, 66-75; and exotikd, 73, 106-8, 175-77; and individuation, 55; and marriage, 68-69, 175; metaphorical associations with, 66; and naming, 55-56; and power, 68; and role opposition, 66, 71, 73; and sanctity, 67-68 Georges, Robert, 232, 278n.1l Ginzburg, Carlo, xvi, 150 goats, 39-41, 60, 181, 187, 280n.30; as form of the demonic, 104, 184, 185, 280n.30; as opposed to sheep, 182-83 God, 12,55, 78,82,95, 141,179,241, 276n.25; and belief, 74, 77; as model for family and state, 80; names of, 214; opposed to Devil, 7, 91, 97, 146, 153, 191, 221,236,249,255-59,274n.11

326 · Index 178,197-98,201,205,242, 265n.18, 291n.25 Goody, Jack, 8, 10, 261n.5 gorgona (mermaid), 5, 148, 151, 156, 251; and Panagia, 157-59 government, 48-49; and bureaucracy, 25-26; civil service posts in, 25-26, 29, 59; levels of, 30--31; and social security, 25-26, 27 Gramsci, Antonio, 121, 124, 128, 27ln.10 graves, 54, 58, 103-4, 142; and houses, 53, 54 great and little traditions, xvi, 10--12, 147-53, 222-24,241-43,244-48 Greenfield, Richard, 143, 229, 265n.l7, 267n.13, 268n.l4, 273n.8, 274nn. 10 and 12, 276n.26 Gregory of Nazianzus, 28ln.l Gudas, Rom, 91 Gurevich, Aron, xvi, 29ln.28 godp~nm,

Hahn, G. von, 190 Halliday, W. K., 244, 245 Hamilton, Mary, 6 Hart, Janet, 170 Hastrup, Kirsten, 109 Hauschild, Thomas, 233 hegemony, 121, 124-25, 134 hell, 217, 258, 293n.IO Hellenism, 35, 124, 126, 132, 137, 196 Henningsen, Gustav, 150 Hertz, Robert, 269n.26 Herzfeld, Michael, 5, 9, 57, 73, 74, 122, 132, 138, 163, 170, 173, 232,233,237, 264-65n.l2, 269n.25 Hippolytus, 244-45 Hirschon, Renee, 67, 73, 109, 189, 263n.4, 267n.IO, 269n.l9 Hocart, A. M., 34, 116, 195, 26ln.IO, 280n.25 Hodgen, Marg~t, xv Holy Spirit, 55, 154,201,207, 208 holy water (agiasmos), 4, 51, 100, 173, 235, 241,242,243,259,291n.28,293n.ll.See also apotropaics; water homologies, 13, 171, 241, 244, 247 honor, 46, 69, 138; and marriage, 69--70, 175, 265n.l3 Horton, Robin, 26ln.3 hospitality, 29, 47,48 houses, 49--53; and gender, 52, 67, 138; and

graves, 53; and spirit(s), 53, 103, 156, 218 Hunt, Eva, 26ln.3 icons, 32, 35, 78, 179, 262n.9; in domestic life, 51, 52-53; as focus of pilgrimage, 32, 35; miraculous discovery of, 36, 84-87, 89, 90--91, 267n.9; wonderworking, 3537,90 ideology, xvi, 139, 164, 191; and civil life, 65; and culture, 171-72, 178--79, 188--91; definition of, 273n.l; and the exotik4, 164, 171-72; and gender, 68, 74; religious, 80, 139 illness: and exorcism, 211, 220; and healing by saints, 92-95, 102; spells against, 22437. See also disease imagination, xv-xvi, 14, 161, 171, 191,249. See also cognition; moral imagination fmellos, Stephanos, 88, 89, 224, 225, 226, 228,229,231,237,239,240 lngham, John, 26ln.3 inheritance, 50, 58, 61, 71. See also dowry insiders (dikofmas), 49, 170--71. See also strangers Jackson, A. H., 131, 190 Jamous, Raymond, 266n.l8 Jehovah's Witnesses, 78--79 Joannou, P., 276n.26 Job, 146 John the Baptist, Saint, 44, 173 John Chrysostom, Saint, 93, 245; exorcism of,213,217-18,219,286n.2 John Climacos, Saint, 143-44, 145, 273n.8 John the Theologian, Saint, 254, 258, 293n.9 Johnston, Sarah lies, 153 Just, Roger, 264n.ll Kakridfs, J., 152, 181, 187 Kalaisilis, G. I., 182, 187, 196 kallik4ntzaroi (goblins), 51, 105, 148, 152, 170, 173, 181-82, 183, 185, 251 Kambanellis, Iakovos, 225, 228, 230 Kamboliroglou, D., 277n.3 Kamboliroglou, M., 123, 277n.3 Kantakouzen6s, John, 143 Kapferer, Bruce, 272n.20 Karangi6zis, 62 Karavit6s, S., 170 Kavadias, G. B., 180 Kelly, H. A., 244,245

Index Kenna, Margaret, 34, 42, 264n.7, 272n.l8 Kenny, Michael, 57 Kephalliniadis, Nikos, 41, 46, 83,86-87,89, 90, ll2, 263n.l3, 269nn. 19 and 24 khamotsaroukhos (goat-form demon), 183, 251 Khatziioannos, Kyrilik:os, 231 KhatzimikMli, A., 163, 169, 196 Khouliarlik:is, M., 262n.1 Khounnouzis, Mikhafl, 187 kinship, 138, 265n.l4; and gender, 56-57; and naming, 55-57 klfdonas (divining ceremony), 130, 228, 229, 286n.3 Kolodny, Emile, 109, llO, 262n.1 Korres, Ge6rgios, 90 Kosm's and Darnian6s, Saints (Agioi AnMgyroi), 226, 233, 241 Kosm,tos, S., 240 Koukoules, Ph., 149 Krikos-Davis, Katerina, 160 Kuhn, Thomas, 118 Kynops the Sorcerer, 254, 258, 293n.9 Kyriakfdis, Stflpon, 124-25, 162, 27ln.12 Kyriakfdou-Nestoros, Alki, 124, 125, 156, 168-69 Kyrla Sophfa, 4-5, 8, 73, 106 Kyriazfs, N., 229, 231, 239 Ladurie, Emmanuel Le Roy, xvi, 150 Laiou-Thomadakis, A., 154 ldmia (female demon), 152, 172, 180-81, 183, 251, 270n.4 Lawson, J. C., 6, 162, 175, 176, 268n.16 Leach, Edmund, 173 Le Goff, Jacques, xvi Legrand, Emile, 238 lela:momandefa (divination by bowl), 242, 245, 287n.7 Uvi-Strauss, Claude, 286n.21 Lidderdale, Hal, 280n.26 Lienhardt, Godfrey, 12-13, 26ln.3 Lis6n-Tolosana, Carmelo, 269n.l9 Utsas, Ph6tios, 267n.10 Lloyd, G. E. R., 28ln.35 Lossky, Vladimir, 140 Loukatos, Dimftrios, 9, 277n.6, 29ln.28 Louk6poulos, Dimftris, 238 Luhrmann, T. M., 132 Luke, Saint, 35, 90-91

· 327

McDowell, John, 57 Machin, Barrie, 99, 215 maissades (female demons), 162, 180, 277n.l Mackridge, Peter, 277n.6 Makris, Julie, 281n.33 Makrygiannis, 179, 289n.13 Malinowski, B., 131 MMfias, Saint, 39-42 Mango, Cyril, 154, 266n.3, 274n.l5, 276n.26 Manollik:os, G., 230,239 Mark6polis, M. 1., 239-40 marriage, 46,49-50, 68-70, 74, 263-64n.2, 265n.l2, 279n.20, 289n.l4; and abduction, 72 Marriott, McKim, 151, 244,247,248 Mazower, Mark, 262n.6 Megas, Ge6rgios, 89, 173 men: and bells, 71-72; competition between, 71; as heads offamily, 53; and labor, 5960; nondomesticity of, 50-52, 61; values of, 60-75 mesimeris (midday demon), 172 Meyer, Birgit, 261n.3 Michael (Archangel), 7, 101, 229 Miller, J. Hillis, 270n.6 millet, 62, 264n.5 Mink, Louis, 238 miracles, 78-84; and cosmogenesis, 87; defined, 82; and illness, 92-97; and narrative, 87-91 mofra (fate), ll5, 160, 252 Moke, D. F., 231 mon6vyza (one-breasted demon), 181, 252 moral imagination, 139, 189-91, 221,249. See also cosmology; ideology; imagination Mouzelis, Nikos, 270n.3 Munitiz, Joseph, 287n.l2 Mylonas, P., 214, 219, 221, 228, 229, 239 Myrivflis, Stratfs, 157-59 myron. See chrism names, 55-59, 284n.5; at exorcism, 214, 220, 255-59, 267n.l2, 284n.5; and individuation, 55-56; and kinship, 55-57; and nicknames, 57-58; power of, 213-16; and salvation,58-59;andspells,239-40 narrative, 87-90, 238; about illness, 91-97; and lies, ll2-13; and miracles, 78-91; and social competition, 14, 90-91

328

• Index

nationalism, 35; on Naxos, 27; and religion, 196, 264n.5 Naxos, xvii, 19-26; agriculture on, 22-24; Athenian stereotypes of, 29-30; cooperatives on, 24, 25-26, 30, 60; emery mining on, 25-26; government on, 30-31; history of, 19; identity of residents on, 29, 30-42; religion on, 32-37; reputation of inhabitants of, 29-30 Needham, Rodney, 14-15, 76, 89, 191, 265n.17, 273n.1, 280n.27 Nektarios, Saint, 93-95 nerai"da (female demon), 4-5, 73, 97' 106, 110, 117, 130, 148, 152, 162-63, 173, 175, 180, 181, 183, 218, 229, 253, 271n.8, 275n.18, 277n.3; and mortal women, 4-5, 106-8, 157, 175-77, 190; and Panagfa, 156, 271n.8, 276n.29 Nik61aos, Saint, 157 Nilsson, Martin, 149 Nutini, Hugo, 261n.3 Obeyesekere, Gananath, 7, 12, 272n.20 Obolenski, D., 274n.11 Oikonomfdis, Dimftris, 40, 41, 89, 92, 101, 129, 163,223,231, 267n.12, 289n.14 oil, 14,201, 209,211,244-45 Onians, R. B., 279n.12 orality and literacy, 10-11, 139, 150, 23536,238,244,291-92n.28 Orthodox Church, 11, 113, 139-53, 273n.2; accommodation of exotikd by, 151; opposition to exotikd by, 8-12,99, 107, 148, 222-23, 235, 246; opposition to spells by, 41-42, 222-23, 243, 286nn. 2 and 3. See also doctrinal and local traditions Overing,Joanna, 120 Padel, Ruth, 73 Pakh6mios, Saint, 32-35 Panagfa (All Holy Mother of God), 74, 80, 81, 92, 227, 241, 277n.32; of Argokofli, 35-37, 90-91; cults/epithets of, 34-35, 83, 84-87, 88, 89, 90-91; and symbolic convergences with female exotikd, 156-58, 229, 276-77nn. 29 and 30 Papadili, Eirfni, 240 Papamikhael,Anna, 131 Papandreou, Vaso, 127 Pareto, V., 270n.5 Parkin, David, 15

Pashley, Robert, 112 Paul, Saint, 102 Pegues, M. L' Abbe, 267n.9 performative utterances, 213, 243, 284n.3 Peristiany,John, 138 Petrides,Ted,280n.24 Petropoulos, Giovanni, 231 Pfister, G., 291n.26 phanddsmata (ghosts), 183, 216, 253 Phrangaki, Evangella, 168 phylactery, 5, 209, 267n.12 pilgrimage, 12, 32, 35, 82, 154 Pina-Cabral, Joiio, 57, 80, 266n.4 Plutarch, 274n.15 Pocock, David, xvi, 14, 114, 235,247, 248 Polftis, Nik6laos, 6, 123, 150, 152, 153, 156, 160, 162, 169, 170, 175, 181, 182, 183, 196,215,216, 261-62n.10, 277n.3 Pollis, Adamantia, 164 Porphyry, 183, 274n.15 possession, 105 Pradel, Fritz, 220, 267n.13 Prier, A., 28ln.35 priests, 54, 212, 243, 267n.9; education of, 276n.24; and exotikd, 5, 97-98, 275n.22; and gender, 74 Protopapadakis, Petros, 27, 65 proverbs, xv, 19, 43, 56, 58, 81, 104, 160, 165, 180, 265n.13, 277n.6 Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, 162 Pseudo-Psell6s, 8, 183, 186-87, 286n.15 rationality, 117-20 Redfie1d, Robert, 10 religion, 7-12, 246, 261n.5; ancient Greek, 6-7, 9, 275n.17, 282n.10; local, 10-12; as opposed to cult, 34-35, 266n.2; and syncretism, 6-7, 11, 12, 275n.17. See also cosmology; Orthodox Church revenants. See vrykOlakes right and left, 177-80 Rouse, W. H. D., 170, 225, 231, 234, 239 Rousfas, G., 238, 239, 240 Rushton, Lucy, 262n.9 Russell, J. B., 141, 144, 149, 273n.4 Sacks, Oliver, 238 saints, 77, 80, 154; and demons, 154-61, 276n.26; and devotions, 82-84, 85, 86; festivals of, 37; and illumination, 97; as

Index mediators, 80--81, 153; and miracles, 82. See also individual saints Salvanos, G., 242 salvation, 53, 55,74-75,77,195,201-2 Sangren, P. Steven, 10, 12, 14 Satan. See Devil Sauger, Robert, 32-33 Saunier, Guy, 160 Schmeman, Alexander, 282n.10, 283n.15, 284n.2 Schmidt, Bemhard, 6, 152, 281n.34 Schmitt, Riidiger, 270n.6 Schneider, Jane, 114 Schnepel, Burkhard, 34 Scripture, 140--41 Seferis,George, 122 sheep, 39-41, 60, 169; and bells, 71; as opposed to goats, 182-83, 280n.30 shrines (proskynitaria), 84-86, 168-69 SimonMagus, 293n.9 sin, 143-45, 201-2, 220, 273n.8 Sisfnios and lsfdoros, Saints, 101, 229 Sivignon, Miche1, 100, 262n.6 Sk:lir6s, Ge6rgios, 27lnn. 9 and 12 Skout6ri-Didask&lou, N6ra, 73, 107, 174, 176 smerkAki (livestock demon), 169, 253 social historians, xvi, 150 soi"(kindred), 56 sorcerers, 212, 223, 233, 243 soul (psykh£), 53, 59, 77, 273n.7, 282n.2 spells, 80, 222-42; and binding, 40--41, 23132, 263n.13, 289n.14; against birds of prey, 40--41, 263n.13; confused with prayers, 41, 222-23, 243, 291n.26; against erysipelas, 222, 225-27; against evil eye, 222, 232-37; against the gello, 100--101, 223, 238; against jaundice, 222, 227-30; Solomonik£, 86; against sunstroke, 222, 230--32,288-89n.12 Sperber, Dan, 16, 261n.8 Sphyr6eras, Nfkos, 87 Sphyr6eras, Vassflis, 262n.5 spirit (pnevma), 14, 154, 208, 283n.20; inheritance of, 55, 58; and model of the person, 143, 273n.7. See also Holy Spirit Spyndon, Saint, 9fr97 Stewart, Charles, 107, 163, 190,229, 269n.l9 stoikheia (elemental spirits), 89, 102-4, 111, 209, 220, 253, 267--68nn. 14 and 15

·

329

strangers (xenm), 42,46-48, 78-79, 170--71, 190. See also insiders strfngla (female demon), 73, 100--101, 110, 156, 173, 180, 253; male counterpart of (strfnglos), 169 Strittmatter, Dom Anselm, 216, 218, 221 Strong, Frederick, 262n.1 style: in consumption, 12fr27, 272n.13; definition of, 121-22, 27ln. 7; in thought and being, 120--22, 126, 133-34 supernatural, the, 16, 95, 128; modem interest in, 131-34; new forms of, 131-34, 189-90 superstition, 8, 112-13, 128, 148, 237, 269nn. 22 and 23; exotikA as, 8-9, 151, 246; and religion, 11-12, 13, 243, 246-48; spells as, 41-42, 223, 243 survivalism, 5-8 svrakhnaslvrakhnas (child demon), 152, 216, 253 syncretism, 6-7, 11, 13 Szemerenyi, 0., 264n.7 Taggart, James, 108 Tambiah, Stanley, xvi, 213, 231, 286n.20 telonefa (air demons), 116, 196,253, 282n.2 Tertullian,204,245 thieving, 44-45, 265nn. 13 and 15; and exotikA stories, 112-13; and marriage, 69-71, 265nn. 13 and 15; as sport, 73 Thomas, Keith, xvi Thompson, Donald, 26ln.3 Todorov, Tzvetan, xv Tommaseo, N., 173 Topping, Eva, 273n.5 tourism, 22, 47, 60 Toumefort, M., 268n.16 tradition, 139-41; Orthodox, 140--53 traditions (paradoseis), 164, 277nn. 3 and 4; defined, 123; and the peasantry, 127 Trembelas, P. N., 142, 273n.4 Tryphon the Martyr, Saint, 290n.20 Tsoucalas, Constantine, 24, 127, 132 Turks, 187-88, 251, 28ln.34 Turner, Victor, 179 tjkhi (luck), 160, 253 Tylor, E. B., 261n.5, 268-69n.15 Tziovas, Dimitris, 124 Vardilis, S., 238, 239, 240 Vassiliev, A. A., 217,221

330

· Index

Vemant, Jean-Pierre, 249 Vidal, Denis, 265n.12 Vfos, Stylian6s, 175, 178 Vogiatzfdis, I. K., 157, 168, 245 vrakhnds. See svrakhnds vryk.Olakes (vampires, revenants), 103-4, 177, 188, 190, 253, 258-59, 268n.l6, 269n.24, 274n.l4, 28ln.34 Wachsmuth, Kurt, 123, 232, 233, 240 Ware, Bishop Kallistos, 139, 140, 143, 195, 262n.9, 270n.l, 274n.13, 276n.24, 283n.13, 284n.l Watanabe, John, 261n.3 water, 14, 173, 244-45; at baptism, 200, 204, 205,209-10,241,243,284n.23;curative power of, 157, 205; in evil spells, 234, 240-43, 244-45, 277n.30; and exotikd, 102, 157, 173, 209-10, 217-18; in lekanomandeia, 242; and Panagfa, 156-57. See also holy water

weather forecasting, 61, 117-18 Weitzman, Kurt, 144 Winter, E. H., 261n.7 witchcraft, 14--15, 261n.7 women: and emotions, 73-74; and exotikd, 73, 106-8, 156-60, 175-77; and houses, 49-53; and sanctity, 51; spiritual authority of, 74 worldview, xvi, 15, 98, 113, 139, 140; exotikd as entry into, xv-xvi, 15, 139, 248-49 xenophobia, 47, 48, 190 Yamold, Edward, 197 yphos. See style ~os, E., 272n.2l Zambelios, Spyndon, 9 Zevg6li, Gl~zou, Dialekhtf, 81, 129, 263n.l Zevg6lis, Gi6rgos, 69, 129