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Back The Black Earth Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. THE BLACK EARTH
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. BOOK I
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. BOOK II
  14. CHAPTER EIGHT
  15. CHAPTER NINE
  16. CHAPTER TEN
  17. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  18. CHAPTER TWELVE
  19. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  21. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  23. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  24. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  25. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY
  27. BOOK III
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  42. BOOK IV
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  54. About the Author
  55. By Philip Kazan
  56. Copyright

‘There are ways of dealing with pain,’ she says, and he catches a sourness in her voice. ‘But that is not the whole band. We have many musicians in the Cordelio tonight. The man with the violin is Semsis. We are very honoured: he is Director of Arts at HMV. The man with the big gap between his teeth is Batis. Stellakis will play the guitar. All very famous.’

‘All these famous people, here in this little place?’

‘You know, we call a place like this teké. There are not so many of them any more. These days we mostly play in the big cafes up in Athens. Men like Stellakis have made many, many records. They play them on the radio and then the songs become famous. Rich people like the music from the slums. But now the cafes will be full of Germans. So you know, this is like the old days for us.’ She looks over. ‘OK. They are calling me.’

‘What will you be singing?’

‘You’ll see.’ She grins, but he notices that as she stands up and turns away from him, her face changes. It is as though she has put on a mask. Every emotion has been smoothed away, leaving nothing but detachment and the smallest hint of disdain. Her back is straight; she is stalking between the tables like a statue come to life. And the men, who really do all look like race-track gangsters, watch her adoringly. She is an actress, he thinks, amazed. She glides through the cramped space and takes her place at the centre of a line of chairs that have been set up along the back wall. There is a tambourine on the chair and she sets it carefully on her lap. Apostoli is on her left with his bouzouki, Pavlo on her right with another bouzouki, a much more delicate instrument inlaid all over with mother of pearl. The man called Batis settles next to Pavlo. He leans and whispers something in Pavlo’s ear and Pavlo giggles. The man with the guitar, thickset with a heavy, oblong face and sparse hair, sits down next to Batis and shares the joke. Semsis, the recording mogul, takes his place beside Apostoli, and beside him, a plump but funereal man is tuning an instrument that looks like a Renaissance lute.