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Simos Panopoulos - Look at that
211
teach, to get out of line and challenge public opinion – now turns into his annoying trademark. He exhibits an unforgivable negligence in the editing of his texts, disregarding the duds that are right under his nose. It is only to be expected since the rule is no longer the since, the because, the provided that or the on account of this, but the why not, the come now, the who cares, the see you later, the oh brother. He does not weed out with an herbicide the eternal enemies of every writer, the this, the that, the which, the and, the said, the did, the put, the had, resulting in them spreading all over the place like noxious weeds. He underestimates his readers’ intelligence by inexcusably laying out after a word all of its synonyms as well, or attaching in front of a noun a truckload of adjectives. He overestimates their patience, extending his sentences or smother-ing them in metaphors. In interviews of that period on YouTube, Alexandratou ascertains, he completely makes a mess of it all, vanity practically coming out of his ears. In vain, he struggles to discard it. It has now become second nature to him.
The last word of his last novel whose last paragraph, for history’s sake, is:
“…it never crosses anyone’s mind that the swim in the sea he goes for, the kiss he gives, the film at the
I did all that without even realizing it?
If you are referring to ex-nobelists you should speak it boldly.
Simos Panopoulos - Look at that
212
cinema he watches, the goal he scores, the sunset he gazes out toward, the kokoretsi62 he eats, might possi-bly be the last ones in his entire life. But Kalambakas, if there’s anything he realises with cast-iron certainty, it’s that he’s writing the last word of the last phrase of his last novel. It’s on the day when, out of the blue, he asks for a divorce from his style. Shouting, screaming, crying, a whole uproar ensues. They have become, he says, one of those couples that are at each other’s throats but who won’t get a divorce for the sake of the children. They first met on a blind date when he was attempting to write his first lines. That same night, they had a roll in the hay, something both tacitly de-scribed as a one-night stand. Which would end up in a forced, due to procreation, marriage. Nowadays he could not even stand to look at it. It was time for them to go their separate ways. Get it through your head, he says, when it asks him for
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