Dinner With Persephone: Travels In Greece (1997) - Plot & Excerpts
I would like to begin this review with a compliment. Patricia Storace is unbelievably smart. Like, Mensa smart. A genius.I would like to follow that compliment with a complaint. Patricia Storace is excruciatingly boring. At times, pathologically so.If I could play Author Matchmaker, I would demand that Storace marry Matthew Battles, author of the terrifically dull Library: An Unquiet History. Theirs would be the perfect union, a constant stream of one-upping in their compendious knowledge.Readers should know that, although marketed as such, Dinner with Persephone is not a travelogue about Greece. Sure, Storace spends a year in Greece and writes about her travels, but she doesn't have adventures. She has no time for such nonsense. There is too much thinking to do. We'll get to that in a minute.There is a uniformity to this memoir that is unmatched by any I have previously read. The forty-one essays that comprise Dinner with Persephone follow a disarmingly unwavering formula.1. A (Generally) Enticing Chapter Title. Who wouldn't want to read missives titled I See Elvis and A Dream of a Bodiless One? A tale about running into an Elvis lookalike on the busy streets of Athens? That's a potential comedic goldmine. Sadly, it is not so.2. A Clever Introductory Paragraph. Storace has mastered the art of an engaging hook. Nearly every initial paragraph is tantalizing and promising of things to come. Things that, in fact, never come. In some ways these paragraphs are like heeding a siren's call: you will be lured in only to be dashed upon sharp rocks, your limbs forcibly torn from your torso by wave after wave of sheer boredom.3. Digression Into a Dull Historical or Cultural Fact. Storace wastes no time in quickly abandoning a potentially engaging statement or hook and instead leads the reader down the path of a tiresome history lesson. These digressions serve one purpose only: to illustrate to the reader how much she knows. And she knows a lot. She knows more than any human being should possibly know about Greece. She knows more about Greece than Greece knows about Greece. 4. Additional Digression.5. Another Digression.6. Anticlimactic Ending. Storace ends her essays like a Civil War surgeon. She amputates ruthlessly and without anesthesia, mostly because the story wasn't going anywhere anyway, so what purpose would a sensical ending bring? Prior to writing Persephone, Storace was a poet, and her relish for engaging in purple prose is paraded out with little regard to sense or propriety. ...I find a waterfall hidden in the hills behind Mystras, its waters curling in marryings and divorcings like the destinies or lovers; some of its currents meet inevitably, others are inexorably divided, others separated and reunited, all with a common destiny awaiting them in the pool below. (page 282)*blinks* What? WHAT? Patricia, there is nothing special about your little Grecian waterfall. In fact, it is like every other waterfall, and certainly not worthy of an extended and terrible metaphor rendered in language that would make most English professors cough up a hairball. Even amateur Creative Non-fiction workshoppers would know better... and they aren't published authors. Who was your editor? I hope he doesn't have a job anymore.Worse still is that much of the memoir is spent in Storace's head, as she is constantly reminded of something dull she has learned. Her expansively catalogued memory is incessantly triggered by daily minutia, giving the reader the impression that it must be exhausting being Storace. Based solely on Persephone, we can infer that her brain works under the auspices of the following model:"This [uninteresting and convoluted historical, social, or cultural fact] reminds me of [vaguely related but equally boring and intricate historical, social, or cultural fact] which makes me think of..."The number of times she employs the phrases "I am reminded of..." or "I think about..." or "I remember..." is astonishing. Storace's brain is packed with so much trivial information that even the most fervent Jeopardy! fan would be instantly wearied by her ruminations. Hell, most scholars would be embarrassed to be held in her company.Perhaps her biggest failure is making Greece seem like an interesting place to visit. In fact, it sounds downright awful, particularly because of the men, who come across as hedonistic sexists who spend much of their time trying to kiss Storace or fondle her boobs. Furthermore, the citizens are painted as jingoists, participating in a blind, automaton-like love for their country, and denouncing every other country, particularly Bulgaria and Turkey, with a nearly jihadist passion. Additionally, whenever Storace engages a native Greek in conversation, she is treated to a tedious history lesson that delights her, but serves no purpose other than to give the impression that every Greek person alive is a Walking, Talking Encyclopedia of All Things Greece. Press a button on their back and every Pre-and-Post-Hellenic Tidbit that exists comes pouring out like ouzo. No, thanks.Still, Storace has one good essay in her, the truly remarkable The Dream of Love After the Dance, a biographical sketch of the Greek children's author Penelope Benaki. This well-crafted, supremely riveting story abandons the aforementioned formula, instead following a straightforward method that reveals Storace as a legitimately good writer who has the capability of not falling victim to her own affectations. Benaki is presented as a tragic hero, the victim of familial circumstance and repression who attempts (and fails) to rise above her position in life. I highly recommend reading it, but don't become its fool. Nothing else in the book is nearly as absorbing. Trust me. I spent three months of my life forcing myself to read every goddamned last word of it.
I haven't finished the book yet, but so far I find it a worthwhile read. It is comforting to know that the author is well versed in the whole of Greek history, not just the standard classics. Her references to all historic periods as well as to recent Greek literature and religion provide a more comprehensive view of the Greek temperament than most books about modern Greece (eg, the disappointing Eurydice Street by Sofka Zinovieff). It's a pity that the author doesn't provide adequate autobiographical information about herself at the beginning, I would have liked to know more about her. Her criticism of the way Greek men sometimes behave towards Greek women can be misconstrued. Personally I agree with her on this point, even though I am not discouraged by it (as some other readers were, from what I see in the comments below). And yet... There are some glaring errors of translation or transliteration which I fail to understand how they got past the editing process. Eg, Protonekrotafeio (as one word when in actuality it is two), "Everyday" (the Kathimerini newspaper, which is a "Daily"), mikraki (instead of the common diminuitive mikrouli/a), Mignon (the department store known as Minion), or even the (pseudonymous?) "kyrios Angellopaidi" (Angelopoulos is a better option - a common enough name, while Angellopaidis is nonexistent, at least in the phone book), to name a few.
What do You think about Dinner With Persephone: Travels In Greece (1997)?
Well what can I say, I thought I would read this book to get an idea of what it would be like to travel in Greece in anticipation of my own travels, and am not impressed. It seems that no matter where the author went she was being asked for sexual favors or the honor of cleaning the houses and having sex with old men. She seems to portray the Greek populace as misogynistic men and subserviant women who think that being slapped around is an honor; a country confused by their place in history holding on for dear life to the greatness of Alexander the Great and the symbolism of the Greek Orthodox church. A book which simply portrays a country and culture uncomfortably straddling the east and west and never finding its own unique identity.
—Ting
Ms. Srorace manages to get into the Greek head without being, herself, Greek. What puzzled me was, although she went to many of the places Lawrence Durrell did, and this is a quite literary-name-dropping sort of book, with lots of literary references, historical notes, etc; she never once mentions Mr. Durrell. One might have thought it could come in her chapter on Alexandria (nope) or on Corfu (nope, again.) Perhaps she barely knows, the Durrell I know, for myself at least, the vision of Greece has come to me most clearly and most attractively through his writing. But... I suppose she has, for one thing, a latter-day American (and latter day American feminist) perspective. Maybe stuffy fuddy-duddy end-of-empire Brits like Durrell never caught her attention. Pity, since I would have liked to see how she related him to the landscape the describes, and the people she meets there. I kept seeking any reference to old Larry, but never did spot one. Nonetheless, it's worth a read, as she seems, like many, to have fallen in love with the place (if not the people!) and it's a rather modern piece.
—Mark
Not done yet--it's rather slow going. But I like it. The author makes interesting and sometimes disturbing observations about everyday life in Greece, such as the frequency of violence against women on TV, even in sitcoms. Slapping a woman isn't seen as a big deal, even seen as a funny punch line in some cases. That tells me a LOT about Greece and Greeks right there. Most of us not-well-schooled-in-history Americans think of Greece as something that happened in the time of Pericles and know doodley-squat about what happened since then. The book has a lot of information, anecdotes, and conversations with modern Greeks about that history--and how it has affected them, their country, their view of the world and of life. We have it so easy in America--we whites came in, slaughtered the resident natives, took over all their land, brought in millions of Africans to work to death building our cities and making our fortunes in cotton and textiles and finance--and prospered. We haven't been conquered, bullied, starved, robbed, raped, pillaged, slaughtered, or in any other way unwillingly dominated by outsiders. Peoples who have been through those traumas time and time again have a totally different view of things than we do.But I digress--Read this book, especially if you're planning a trip to Greece.
—Sjancourtz
