Black Greek Coffee
Konstantina Sozou-Kyrkou
Author Bio
I was born in a small Greek village in 1968. I went to Athens for studies in 1985 and have been staying here with my husband and two kids since then. I studied Literature and hold an MA in Creative Writing from Lancaster University. My short stories have appeared in print and online in several literary magazines.
Description
The collection of short stories in ‘Black Greek Coffee’ deals with the darker side of life in Greece. Full of domestic violence, male domination, superstition and ignorance, the strong influence of religion and suffocating traditions, Black Greek Coffee portrays life in rural 20th century Greece.Culture, landscape and traditions are a backdrop to the divisions, gaps and barriers that lie between people and their relationships. There is a prejudice and unjustified animosity that hangs in the air around them, dividing and troubling them. The series of short stories touches on themes of self-righteousness, religion, migration, chauvinism, illness, loss, death, war, superstition, honour and gender issues. Stories of the domestic, and occasionally reaching into the supernatural, they surprise, educate and challenge the reader’s intellect. Written from the author’s own experiences, whether she has witnessed events or met people who have faced the misunderstandings that take place in the book, Black Greek Coffee is an exciting read for any fans of powerful fiction with a sting in the tail.
Book excerpt
There would be two words to write: Eleftheria and Democratia. Freedom and Democracy were values that had caused massive blood-shed to us the Greeks in the past. We fought for them many times and now it was high time we fought again, Thodoris said. The fascist swine, the dictators, had gone too far this time. We heard it on the pirated radio station. Tanks treading on the university students at the Polytechnics last night. Soldiers against unarmed students. Thodoris cried with anger after the end of the news. The government TV channel YENEΔ had just showed a few well selected scenes with no victims present and mentioned the leading dictator’s, Papadopoulos’s statement that read, ‘that miasma the communism has spread its deleterious tentacles to the students corrupting their minds,’ and that ‘the wild beasts’ efforts to overturn the healthy system have successfully been smothered.’ Thodoris explained that the communists were the good ones, the ones who fought against those bastards. He could get really hot-blooded when he talked about the dictators. He clenched his fists and frothed at the edges of his mouth, his eyes round and red. I could hardly recognize his distorted face at such moments.
We’d write Eleftheria against the front wall of the gym and Democratia and Eleftheria on the main building, between the three dark green iron doors. Thodoris rolled up his sleeves, snapped the lid of the tin open with a clack and dipped the brush in. He spelt the word Eleftheria first, in big, round letters and then moved to the other building and wrote the same word again. Andreas was keeping watch near the gate.
‘Can I do it?’ I told Thodoris before he started off with the second word.
‘No, of course not. I want it straight and correctly spelt,’ he said.
‘You’ll tell me how. Please! Just this once.’
‘Oh, ok, ok,’ he said and gave me the brush. ‘Democratia with an e after D, ok?’ he said. I tried my best not to smudge the letters with the brush though the D was more like a half moon rather than a letter. The rest of the letters were clearer but the word tilted upwards a bit. ‘Alright, alright, let’s pack now,’ Thodoris said.
There they were. Red, big, round letters against the white front of the school, like blood drips against young skin. We looked around for any unwanted presences and grabbed the tin and brush ready to leave.
‘Oh, my God!’ I said, biting at my knuckles.
‘What’s wrong?’ Thodoris started.
‘What have we done?’
‘What? What?’ he goggled at me.
‘We used small letters. Not capital ones.’
‘So, what?’
‘They’ll recognize our handwriting.’
‘Who?’
‘The teachers, of course!’
‘No, they won’t. We’ll trick them.’
‘We can’t. Look at the e and the c. They’re so very yours. And only I can do the r like this.
‘I’m sure many more pupils do them the same way.’
‘I do the c the same way,’ Andreas said.
‘See?’ Thodoris said.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m scared to death. There’ll be a massive fuss tomorrow.’ I shivered at the thought. We stared at each other in silence, the whites of our eyes glinting in the moonlight. The air suddenly picked up and we heard the elm leaves rustle and the twigs yowl as the wind passed through.
‘Thodori, what did they do to the students in the Polytechnics, in Athens?’ Andreas said.
‘Tortured them I suppose. Don’t think about it. No one will ever catch us,’ Thodoris offered his knees again to help me jump over the gate.
Author Website
http://www.troubador.co.uk/book_info.asp?bookid=2915