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- Verified Buyer
I don't know what I was expecting when I purchased the book, but I was eager to read it as I had just returned home from an 8-day holiday on the island of Sifnos. It was my first trip to Greece, and Sifnos overwhelmed my senses the entire time I was there and it continues to haunt my dreams. Much more than a travelogue or memoir, Christian Brechneff's "The Greek House" is more a coming-of-age story. I was immediately hooked in the first few pages, when Christian's goal of going to the island of Sími was shattered by a travel agent in Athens. She poured ice water on his dream of going to remote Sími and insisted that Sifnos was the island for him. Thus a door opened to a world that Christian did not then know existed, and upon passing through that door it would forever change his life.Back in the early 70s there were really no tourists visiting Sifnos, only a small number of adventurous travelers like himself as tourism hadn't yet reached the island's shores. I loved reading about his early impressions of the island, for back then Sifnos was far more remote than it is today. It is obvious that Christian is an artist as his writing captures the colors, the light, the sexuality, and the primitivism of Sifnos that I got a brief taste of in the days that I spent there. With an artist's eye, he paints a beautiful image of his first view of a mysterious island on a moonless night: "The night was black, no moon, the sea the darkest ink blue possible, the sky full of stars. The island, much bigger than I expected and even blacker than the sea, rose up over the water like an animal above us and seemed threatening. Our ship, impossibly white at night, luminous against all the darkness, slipped quietly between the mountains and over the still water as if on a slick black mirror." So begins the first chapter as he entered the small port of Kamares, which is also how I entered the island.For me there is a big difference between being a tourist and being a traveler, and if all you are looking for is a travelogue this is not the book for you. But if you want to understand how travel can impact a person, often in deeply profound and unpredictable ways, then you will want to seek out this book, for Christian is definitely a traveler par excellence, and for me it was fascinating to read how he integrated himself with the natives and their unfamiliar culture and way of life. He was soon christened Christo by the villagers, which he loved, and he developed a new persona there under that name. During these early years on the island Christian/Christo was looking for inner peace and inspiration for his art while simultaneously struggling with his sexuality. It was fascinating to me to see the contrast between "Christian" off the island and "Christo" on the island and how he managed to balance the two, and ultimately how he evolved over the decades on the island.The house, of course, is a big part of his story, as when one buys a house, one becomes (for real) a part of a community, and that is even more pronounced on a small, isolated island in the Aegean Sea. This is when Christo feels that he is truly a part of the island and village of Exambela--as much as it is humanly possible to be a part of a place without having been born and raised there. I cherish his description of the colorful villagers and village life. as well as the difficulty in buying the house and then making it into a home--Christos' home. For much of this time, Sifnos was a paradise for Christian, one that offered an escape from the outside world. Although he doesn't actually say it, I think that unclouded image of his island home changed following the death of Popi, a colorful, warm-hearted woman in his village. It is quite clear that between them there existed a strong mutual affection and love. Her death marks a sudden change, and following it he sees the island through a different and more critical lens. He still loves Sifnos, to be sure, but he looks at the rapid modernization taking place--a modernization which was making the island far more accessible to tourists (and their money) with ambivalence and melancholy. The island that he first fell in love with is changing, but of course Christian is changing as well. Neither one is the same as when their love affair first started in 1972 and in fact the early 70s feel like a time from the most distant past.I am just touching the surface of this insightful book, which covers over three decades of Christian's life. I am grateful that Christian chose to give us a glimpse into his personal life and journey as a young artist starting out on a remote Greek island. Like any meaningful journey, there are twists and turns, frustrations and delights, all peppered with some funny, touching, and sad moments, too. There is a beautiful and haunting melancholy that permeates the final pages of the book, which might surprise some readers, but I could sense it coming with the death of Popi. The prose is vivid and stimulating to the senses, in the same manner as Christian's paintings if you are familiar with them. He is able to capture the essence of that dreamy island, and if you have never had the good fortune to visit Sifnos, Christian's writing, with his acute artistic eye, will bring it alive for all of your senses. Indeed, it is the next best thing to being there.
