Presented today, Saturday, October 12, “The Sigh of Icarus” by Panagiotis Fragos

The book “The Sigh of Icarus” by Panagiotis Fragos (published by Mov Sciuros) is presented on Saturday, October 12 (at 19:00) in the concert hall of the Philharmonic Society Odeon of Patras (Riga Feraou 7).

Agathi Varmazi, philologist and Stefanos Skarpelos, philologist-journalist will speak.

The following will read: Georgia Petropoulou, director of the French Institute of Patras, Aphrodite Skaltsa, trouper-actor-book critic.

The event will be moderated by Eleftheria Stergiopoulou, radio producer. The author of the book, Panagiotis Fragos, and Spyros Papaioannou, publisher, will speak.

A few words about the book.

Interwar. Lemonio, from Ikaria, a slave-like refugee in Athens. Is she fourteen? Is not; War of the ’40. Occupation. Unemployed. Her refuge is the return to the Red Rock. An anti-silk organization, an offshoot of EAM, helps it with its boats. Hunger, conquerors, dosiligos, new refugees in the Middle East. Hermeo of events until she finds someone to make her fortune. His name is Stavros, from Peramos. Refugee, in 1919 in Constantinople, in Kavala, in Jerusalem, in the games of the English. Who is he, where is he going and why? Even at his wedding with Lemonio in Haifa… Refugee or tired? In Beirut and Drapetsona. Innocent or guilty? “What she didn’t like was the church grounds.

The church was crammed into some small houses, before the center of Haifa. It didn’t kill her, but she didn’t like it. She had let the women adorn her as they pleased. She heard their words and their insinuations, but what can she say… The bride hears these, but she hears them together with violins and chimes, outside her window as if she were getting dressed. That’s how life brought them. Let it be so… What she wanted and what she didn’t want, she had left them since she was a child, when she was sent alone, as a slave, to Athens. Don’t be fooled, since then her exile had begun. Finally, in ’41, back to Ikaria, driven by hunger. And from there with a gold to the boatman, washed up in Turkey. With a black and rickety train in Palestine. But it doesn’t matter, that’s how you become a refugee, along with the rest you lose your soul. Now a marriage, a paradise, a little uncomfortable, was opening up to her. What would we do? She would take him for a ride. Who said angels flutter in Heaven? Miserable, begging for mercy, creeping…. And how he said it to Stavros: “I follow you, wherever you dare. A new life, take the reins but don’t kill me””. (From the presentation on the back cover of the book)