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Maybe the fact that Panopoulos, having an over-in-flated sense of self-importance, assumed that he had so much to say, that if he didn’t Greek Literature would be the first on the list that would miss out on it? Rubbish.
- What about the female readers who would never leave him alone?
- Don’t be obscene. I’m fighting tooth and nail to maintain a certain level here.
- Some will link this with Novartis’s case.
- I don’t give a shit.
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That with his work he would supposedly clearly re-veal the pathologies and complexes of Greekness? Balderdash.
That this way he would counterbalance, so to speak, his social inertia for which (belonging with the com-fortably complacent civil service workers) he felt guilty? Please, no more.
That he turned tail on tip toes when he realised that his target audience wasn’t the one he always dreamt of, in other words the highbrow artsy kind? That when and if they deigned to read him, they did so for the pleasure that they would get by disparaging and slat-ing him, as well as, if they were ever to start writing, having him as an example of what to avoid ? Baloney.
What then? The rejection of some working hypotheses, no matter how valuable that might be, was not enough. Stergiou was fully aware that without the submission of new ones, more or less ground-breaking and hereti-cal, he would never be in the clear. At the risk of fall-ing flat on his face, of course. But, after all, had not the very man he was discussing done the same thing his entire life? That’s exactly where Stergiou really got stuck though, where he realised, deep in character, what the anguish of the blank page means for a writer.
Now is you who judges others by his own yardsticks.
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Which is only aggravated by the constant reminders of the publisher about the text submission deadline.
That is why even decades later he would vividly re-member the when (on a Saturday at twilight), the where (he was sat comfortably on the toilet seat), what he had on at that precise moment (his stripy red pyjamas), the fact that the radio was playing the song “not a peep, thank God for the TV ” when the fol-lowing extract from Panourgia’s book (he had not yet changed it to Panopoulos) opened his eyes:
- What is this obsession with the toilet!
- Accept it. Literature and political correctness are incompatible concepts.
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