Challenge Remember, Remember the 17th of November | A (very personal) song roulette

Remember, Remember, the 17th of November​

No, I didn’t mean the 5th of November. I mean the 17th, specifically 17 November 1973, when the tanks of the Greek Junta, i.e. the Franco/Salazar/Pinochet-style dictatorship that ruled Greece from 1967 to 1974, rolled into the foremost school of architecture and engineering, the Athens Polytechnic University, to crush the student uprising that was taking place inside. At least 24 people were killed over the three days of the uprising, many more were wounded, and scores were arrested. One of the latter was my father, who had joined the students to offer his services as a doctor. He was exiled to the prison island of Gyaros and came home when the dictatorship fell in July 1974.

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The ‘Polytechnic’, as it is known in Greece, was a seminal moment in modern Greek history, and it’s an event that I already mentioned a few times on these boards in the past. However, since 2023 is the 50-year anniversary, I thought I’d invite my fanfic friends to commemorate it with me.

I’ve put together a list of 20 songs for a roulette challenge. These are all songs that are connected to the Polytechnic one way or another. Some are songs that were banned by the Junta for their explicit political content, others are more subtle in their message, others yet are not political at all and were banned for reasons that were pretty out there (trust me, you’ll be surprised).

You know the drill – pick a number from 1 to 20, get your song (with notes and translated lyrics of course), write your story, make sure it complies with board rules and post your link in this thread. You can also ask me to pick a song for you. Bonus baklava points if you post it on the 17th of November, but there’s no deadline.

(Notes about the slideshow above: pictures from Greek and international media compiled on the website of the Ministry of Education; song: Το προσκύνημα/The Pilgrimage, music by Stavros Xarchakos, lyrics by Iakovos Kambanellis, sung by Nikos Dimitratos and choir)

 

List of songs, participants and entries

1. The Pilgrimage by @Chyntuck – song: The Pilgrimage, music by Stavros Xarchakos, lyrics by Iakovos Kambanellis, sung by Nikos Dimitratos and choir – details in this post

2.

3.

4. Friends and Brothers (music by Stavros Xarchakos, lyrics by Iakovos Kambanellis, vocals by Nikos Xylouris and choir) – details in this post – claimed by DarthIshtar

5.

6.

7. This Is Your Road Now (music by Christos Leontis, lyrics and recitation by Giannis Ritsos, vocals by Tania Tsanaklidou) – details in this post – claimed by Kahara

8. Microcosm (music by Thanos Mikroutsikos, lyrics by Nâzım Hikmet translated from Turkish by Giannis Ritsos, vocals by Maria Dimitriadi) – details in this post – claimed by Mira_Jade

9. Freedom in the Streets and Cafes by @devilinthedetails – Song:The Street (music and vocals by Manos Loizos, lyrics by Kostoula Mitropoulou) – details in this post

10.

11.

12. Swan Lake (by Tchaikovsky) – details in this post – claimed by Seldes_Katne

13.

14. The Time Is Gone (music by Manos Hadjidakis, lyrics by Nikos Gatsos, vocals by Grigoris Bithikotsis) – details in this post – claimed by Pandora

15.

16.

17. I Only Play by @Findswoman – Song: The Laughing Boy (music by Mikis Theodorakis, lyrics by Brendan Behan translated from English by Vasilis Rotas, vocals by Maria Farantouri) – details in this post

18.

19.

20. Remember, Remember by @earlybird-obi-wan – Song: A Bird Soared, music by Kostas Klavvas, lyrics by Alexis Alexopoulos, vocals by Giannis Voyatzis and Tzeni Vanou – details in this post

 

Welcome to this challenge @Mira_Jade! Your pick is Μικρόκοσμος i.e. Microcosm, music by Thanos Mikroutsikos, lyrics by Nâzım Hikmet (translated from Turkish by Giannis Ritsos), vocals by Maria Dimitriadi.

Thanos Mikroutsikos was still in his teens when he first read the poems of Nâzım Hikmet in the mid-1960s. He began to set them to music ca. 1970, but as he said himself in an interview after the fall of the Junta, there was no way his songs could be released during the dictatorship, as the poet, the translator and the composer were all communists. Mikroutsikos was one of the many artists who joined the Polytechnic Uprising; it's said that he played the piano and sang for the students. He was among those who were arrested after the uprising was crushed. The songs based on Hikmet's poems were finally released in 1975 as part of his first album.

This particular song, Microcosm, uses only a fragment of the poem of the same name. I am including the section that is not used under a spoiler tag, in case you want to draw inspiration from it as well.

Microcosm

Spoiler

When the starlight flowing into my eye like a golden drop
Pierced the darkness of space
for the first time
there wasn't one single eye on the earth
looking into the sky
The stars were old, the earth was a child.

The stars are far from us
but so very far
so very far

Our world is small among the stars
but so very small
so very small

And Asia
is one fifth of the world,

And India
is a country in Asia
Calcutta is a city in India
Banerjee is a man in Calcutta

And I am bringing you the news:
In India
In the city of Calcutta
they stopped on his way
A man who was walking
and they chained him.

And I don't bother anymore
to lift my head toward the bright skies.
If the stars are far,
if the earth is small
I don't care at all
I don't mind

I want you to know that I find
more astonishing
more powerful
more mysterious and gigantic
this man
stopped on his way
and chained.

And the song itself:

 

(Sorry for the double post. Given the nature of the prompts, I'm keeping each prompt in a separate post for ease of finding.)

@Findswoman Your pick is Το γελαστό παιδί, i.e. The Laughing Boy, music by Mikis Theodorakis, lyrics by Brendan Behan translated from English by Vasilis Rotas, vocals by Maria Farantouri.

Theodorakis is the Greek musician who can't be beat in terms of censorship, since the Junta banned his music altogether. He was (and probably still is) the most popular Greek composer at the time, so of course people still listened to his records, a little bit like people in occupied Europe listened to the BBC during World War II. This particular song is an interesting one, because while you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone in Greece who doesn't know the lyrics by rote, most people have no idea that the poem was written by Irish playwright Brendan Behan in memory of Michael Collins. You can read here a great blog post in English about the various Greek figures that are believed to have been the song's laughing boy.

Here is the English-language poem. After the Polytechnic Uprising, there were Greek versions of the song that replaced "an August morning" with "the 17th of November" and "enemies" with "fascists", but the original Greek-language lyrics are faithful to the English text.

The Laughing Boy

T’was on an August morning, all in the dawning hours,
I went to take the warming air, all in the Mouth of Flowers,
And there I saw a maiden, and mournful was her cry,
‘Ah what will mend my broken heart, I’ve lost my Laughing Boy.
So strong, so wild, and brave he was, I’ll mourn his loss too sore,
When thinking that I’ll hear the laugh or springing step no more.
Ah, curse the times and sad the loss my heart to crucify,
That an Irish son with a rebel gun shot down my Laughing Boy.
Oh had he died by Pearse’s side or in the GPO,
Killed by an English bullet from the rifle of the foe,
Or forcibly fed with Ashe lay dead in the dungeons of Mountjoy,
I’d have cried with pride for the way he died, my own dear Laughing Boy.
My princely love, can ageless love do more than tell to you,
Go raibh mile maith agat for all you tried to do,
For all you did, and would have done, my enemies to destroy,
I’ll mourn your name and praise your fame, forever, my Laughing Boy.

And the song itself:

 

Intriguing. I would like #12, please.

As you know, I work in a public library, and every year we recognize Banned Book Week in late September or early October. The reasons people and organizations have for banning books, as well as songs, are mind-boggling. My favorite is the Texas school district that banned Bill Martin, Jr.'s Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? because someone there thought it was written by another Bill Martin, the author of Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation. A case of "tell me you didn't read the book without actually telling me you didn't read the book."

 

Haha! @Seldes_Katne #12 takes us about as far into Absurdistan as the anecdote you mentioned. Your pick is Swan Lake. Yes, the one you're thinking of. Tchaikovsky was banned during the Junta, because he was Russian, and to the colonels, Russian meant soviet/communist/subversive. Other Russian composers such as Prokofiev were also banned, but they had at least the good grace to have lived through the soviet era. (Oh, and Dvořák was banned too, but I never figured that one out.) There's not much else to say, because this is such a well-known piece of music, so here's a video of the ballet for you:



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While I'm here, @Findswoman, yes, Maria Farantouri has an extraordinary voice. She's truly a grande dame of Greek music, and back in the day she was quite popular in the West as well. They used to describe her as "the Maria Callas of the people" or "the Joan Baez of Greece" (admittedly, her voice has nothing in common with Baez, but they did share that young-woman-political-activist vibe with long black hair parted in the middle).

 

Oh, excellent! Tchaikovsky is one of my favorite classical composers, along with Camille Saint-Saëns and Antonio Vivaldi.

Thank you!

 

I would like 4, please.

 

@DarthIshtar If you asked me to name my favourite Greek song of all time, it would be this one. I love the composer, I love the lyricist and I love the lead singer, and I'm really happy that you chose it because I know that you'll write something amazing from it. Your pick is Φίλοι και αδέρφια, i.e. Friends and Brothers, music by Stavros Xarchakos, lyrics by Iakovos Kambanellis, vocals by the great Nikos Xylouris and choir.

Friends and Brothers was composed as part of Our Great Circus by Xarchakos and Kambanellis, a theatre play in the style of a variety show that narrates the history of Greece from mythical times to the 20th century. The text of the play is intensely political and satirical, but Kambanellis submitted it to the censorship office as a comedy and the censors apparently didn't notice the (very) thinly veiled subtext. When the play was staged in June 1973, the performances turned into political rallies against the Junta. The authorities repeatedly shut down the theatre, arrested the actors/director/crew and detained audience members, but every time the run resumed the audience kept coming in droves. (I was there, by the way – inside my mother's belly, but hey, I can say that I saw the premiere of Our Great Circus, even if I was born a couple of weeks later ) Incidentally, the theatre where the play was staged was just across the street from the Polytechnic University.

Friends and Brothers is the musical number for the part of the play that deals with the Revolution of the 3rd of September (1843), when an uprising instigated by the leaders of the War of Independence forced the Bavarian king who had been pushed on Greece by the Great Powers to grant a constitution instead of ruling as an absolute monarch. Here's my (not very good) translation of the lyrics:

Friends and Brothers

Friends and brothers, mothers, elders and children,
look out the window and see
those who walk in the dark
and haunt the alleys,
friends and brothers, mothers, elders and children.

They write slogans, messages to the king,
instead of shouting, go out and write
so that the dogs can't hear you,
raise your voice without speaking,
slogans and messages to the king.

They were soldiers, captains and men of the people,
they took an oath on their sword
that freedom not be lost,
they took an oath on their sword,
captains, soldiers and men of the people.

And he who fears the voice of the people
occupies and rules a desert,
he guards an empty castle
and lives in constant fear
he who fears the voice of the people.

Oh land tormented with iron and fire
see who they brought you
to rule you from high above,
your sorrows are many,
land tormented with iron and fire.

The fuse is lit, they unsheathe their swords,
they hold a constituent assembly and write
their demands on paper
before a human tide,
they hold an assembly, they unsheathe their swords.

3rd of September, mothers, elders and children,
look out the window and see
what they bring to the king,
deeply etched in parchment,
3rd of September, mothers, elders and children.

Friends and brothers, mothers, elders and children,
look out the window and see
those who walk in the dark
and haunt the alleys,
friends and brothers, mothers, elders and children.

 

Okay, this is inspiring me to write a series of short stories about the war against the Empire in a kind of vein as things like Andor and Rebels. The story about the censorship office reminds me both of Jean Anouilh's anti-Nazi Antigone, which the Germans enjoyed quite a lot, and Shostakovich's Symphony #5, which was pleasing to the Soviet government, but contained a requiem for the people killed by the same government. I've got a lot to work with and this is a fantastic challenge. Thanks.

 

@devilinthedetails Welcome! Your pick is Ο δρόμος, i.e. The Street, music and vocals by Manos Loizos, lyrics by Kostoula Mitropoulou.

Manos Loizos and Kostoula Mitropoulou were among the young people who wanted to change the world when they met as budding artists. When she gave him a notebook of poetry in the early 1960s, The Street was one of the poems that he chose to set to music. It was first performed by a very young Maria Farantouri (the one from Findswoman's prompt) in bars and cafés in Athens, but it never got past the censors, even in the not-entirely-dictatorial days before the 1967 coup. The Junta, of course, banned the song altogether – interestingly, not because it was a song about freedom, but because they deemed that comparing freedom to construction materials was demeaning (that's the official reason they gave, at any rate). After the fall of the Junta, Loizos was finally able to release his first album, which includes this song that he chose to perform himself. Here's my translation of the lyrics:

The Street

The street had a story of its own,
someone painted it on the wall.
It was just one word, "Freedom",
and later they said it was written by children.

Time went by and the story
passed from memory to heart.
The wall read "exclusive opportunity,
all sorts of building materials for sale within."

Sundays started early in the cafés,
and then soccer fields, betting, spats.
The street had a story of its own,
and yet they said it was written by children.



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@DarthIshtar I'm glad you like the song! It certainly lends itself to stories of resistance against the Empire, and I can't wait to see what you'll do with it.

 

Oh wow, I really shouldn't take another prompt... but this challenge is just too intriguing to pass up! Thanks for sharing all these historical context details and even your own very personal stories too, @Chyntuck . Could I have #7?

 

Please number 7 @Chyntuck

 

@Kahara Hello there! Your pick is Τώρα είναι δικός σου αυτός ο δρόμος, i.e. This Is Your Road Now, music by Christos Leontis, lyrics and recitation by Giannis Ritsos, vocals by Tania Tsanaklidou.

The lyrics of this song were written by Ritsos ca. 1949 on the island of Limnos, where he was exiled after the Civil War. Ritsos was such a prominent leftist poet that, at dawn on 21 April 1967, as soon as he became aware of the Junta’s coup, he prepared his belongings and waited for the police to come and arrest him (which they did within hours). Composer Christos Leontis became acquainted with his poetry in early 1973 and immediately began to set the poems to music. In February 1973, one day after the short-lived uprising of the Athens Law School against the Junta, Leontis went to a night club where he was asked to play one of his pieces. He chose to perform the yet-unreleased songs he had composed for Ritsos. The album was finally recorded after the fall of the Junta with contributions from Ritsos himself. Here is my translation of the lyrics:

This Is Your Road Now

It was a long road to come here, a difficult road.
This is your road now.
You hold it like you hold a friend’s hand
and take their pulse on the mark
left by the handcuffs.
A steady pulse, a steady hand.
A steady pulse, a steady road!

It was a long road to come here! Long indeed, my brother.
The irons were heavy on our hands. At night when the little bulb
shook its head, saying “it’s late”,
we used to read the history of the world through the small names,
the dates carved with fingernails on the walls
of the prisons, the childish drawings of those sentenced to death.
A heart, a bow, a ship that tore through time,
lines of verse left unfinished for us to complete,
lines of verse that were completed so that we wouldn’t be finished.

It was a long road to come here, a difficult road.
This is your road now.
You hold it like you hold a friend’s hand
and take their pulse on the mark
left by the handcuffs.
A steady pulse, a steady hand.
A steady pulse, a steady road!



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@earlybird-obi-wan #7 was already taken by Kahara in the post just above yours. Would you like to pick a different number?

 

20 please

 

#20 it is @earlybird-obi-wan, and for this song we are travelling back to Absurdistan. Your pick is Πέταξε ένα πουλί, i.e. A Bird Soared, music by Kostas Klavvas, lyrics by Alexis Alexopoulos, vocals by Giannis Voyatzis and Tzeni Vanou.

This song was first performed in a musical romantic comedy in 1963, where it was sung by Eleni Anousaki, before being recorded by Voyatzis who even won an award for it in the Thessaloniki Song Festival. It belongs to the so-called "light repertoire" of éntekhno music and, being the story of two lovebirds, as you'll see from the lyrics it's not political at all. So there's no particular reason it should have been banned by the Junta, right?

BUT...

The thing is, the Junta had chosen a phoenix resurrecting from its ashes as the symbol of their self-proclaimed "revolution of national salvation", and they knew full well that people called the phoenix "the Junta's bird". That was enough to make any song featuring a bird suspicious, and an overzealous censor decided that A Bird Soared featured a hidden message and had to be banned.

Here are the lyrics and the song.

A Bird Soared

A bird soared and came to nestle in a heart
and it brought a kiss from the opposite shore.

Two birds soared and came to build an embrace
and in the evening twilight they spread a soft song.

And the embrace opened, and the deep blue sea,
and this coast mingled with the opposite shore.

The sun rose, the day awoke in the heart
and the bird left to take a message and a kiss.
The bird soared, flew back to the opposite shore.

And the embrace opened, and the deep blue sea,
and this coast mingled with the opposite shore.

The sun rose, the day awoke in the heart
and the bird left to take a message and a kiss.
The bird soared, flew back to the opposite shore.

The sun rose, the day awoke in the heart
and the bird left to take a message and a kiss.
The bird soared, flew back to the opposite shore.

 

#14?

 

@Pandora Welcome to this challenge! Your pick is Πάει ο καιρός, i.e. The Time Is Gone, music by Manos Hadjidakis, lyrics by Nikos Gatsos, vocals by Grigoris Bithikotsis. This song takes us pretty close to the borders of Absurdistan, but not quite over them.

The Time Is Gone was first recorded in 1965 and released as a 45 RPM record. When the Junta came around in 1967, they decided that a sad song about poverty and loss had to be suspicious, and they banned it. It was recorded again as part of a full-fledged album in 1971, sung by Manolis Mitsias, but under a different title and with different lyrics. I'm translating both sets of lyrics for you below.

The Time Is Gone (the banned version)

The time is gone, the time is gone
when the world was pleasant
and every day at dawn
a spring arose
to water the earth.

Nights came, and rains,
and winter took hold of the souls
and in the depths
of the darkness stood
a child seeking warmth.

Now a tear rolls onto the dirt
and somewhere beyond the north
a ship is still asking
where it will find the shore.

The time is gone, the time is gone
when the world was pleasant
and every day at dawn
a spring arose
to water the earth.



First of the Month (the rewritten version to avoid censorship)

First of the month, first of the month,
I took to the streets, my lady,
to see where you are going, which window you knock
now that you don't love me anymore.

First of the month, first of the month,
my tall rose bush [1],
you didn't come and find me yesterday
when my door was open.

Now my tear is still rolling
and clouding my eyes,
you were a small spark on the dirt
and you became a fire.

First of the month, first of the month,
I took to the streets, my lady,
to see where you are going, which window you knock
now that you don't love me anymore.

[1] The Greek verse literally translates to "my tall rosemary bush" but that probably wouldn't make sense in English, so I put roses instead.

 

@Chyntuck , thanks! That is a lovely song and the poetry it comes from is really fantastic. I might even have a non-Star Wars space opera bunny in one of my other fandoms, since this is eerily appropriate to that universe. And there are, of course, loads of Star Wars plots that it could inspire. Will have to see how it goes.

 

Thanks @Chyntuck I am a bird-lover and the song is great to be used in a new story featuring my characters

 

And it is the 17th of november and I have here my response for the challenge Remember, remember featuring my character Hessy Teack first introduced in the Kessel run