By Lawrence Durrell
On a Mediterranean island divided, a guy unearths peace in a time of perilous unrest during this lovely memoir
In 1953, because the British Empire relaxes its grip upon the area, the island of Cyprus dollars for independence. a few cry for union with Athens, others for an association that will cut up the island down the center, giving part to the Greeks and the remaining to the Turks. for hundreds of years, the conflict for the Mediterranean has been fought in this tiny spit of land, and now Cyprus threatens to tear itself in half.
Into this escalating clash steps Lawrence Durrell—poet, novelist, and a former British executive legit. After years serving the Crown within the Balkans, he yearns for a go back to the island way of life of his adolescence. With humor, grace, and satisfactory Greek, Durrell buys a home, secures a role, and settles in for quiet residing, satisfied to place up his toes till the natives start to reflect on wringing his neck. greater than a trip memoir, this can be a chic photograph of island existence in a altering world.
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Additional info for Bitter Lemons of Cyprus: Life on A Mediterranean Island
At many a dinner party, my uncles would recall how on the boat trip Dad wouldn’t let anyone touch the steering wheel, other than the designated drivers, and even threatened to throw people overboard if they did. But for long stretches of the voyage, he would hold me up to the wheel and let his two-year-old kid have a go. Dad’s enthusiastic, ‘You can do anything’ attitude, coupled with Mum’s caring, ‘Look after those less fortunate’ approach, sounded like incredible advice to a kid, but I had to figure out the subtleties and deeper meaning of their advice.
But there was still a chance, still a small amount of hope that the boat approaching us was benevolent. We might be rescued. We waited. As the boat got closer we realised they were also pirates, but Dad could do nothing. The vessel rammed into ours and within minutes a gang of nine men were on our boat waving guns in the air and screaming. It was too much. We stood there silent and numb, like sheep awaiting slaughter. We were forced to strip off our clothes again, and the pirates stalked up and down the rows of naked bodies, inspecting opened, trembling mouths, occasionally pulling out a gold capping.
Then you’re really in trouble, much more than if you got caught selling stuff in the first place. It is all truly frightening. A bloody and merciless war has just finished and the murky, ugly rules of a stain-covered jungle now apply. The girl knows that people sometimes disappear for no reason. The two new guards don’t take to the old man’s offerings. The girl knows she can’t just get up and walk away, as that would bring attention to her. So she sits as still as she can, drawing back a little even, behind an old woman and her chicken cages.