OLD TUNES, NEW TONES:
(RE-)DEFINING THE “PHANARIOT VERSES” OF THE GREEK ENLIGHTENMENT[*]
Julia Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister
ABSTRACT: Phanariot verses – poems and songs – of the eighteenth century and the first decades of the nineteenth comprise perhaps the largest segment of Modern Greek literature of the Age of the Enlightenment. This article calls into question the widely held view that Phanariot verses make up a homogenized body of texts. Based on extratextual and intratextual criteria and comparing texts from different periods of time, it proposes a distinction between two groups, an earlier one that relates to the Phanariot milieu and a more recent one that provided an outlet for expression for the fledgling Greek bourgeoisie.
In 1818, Karl Marx’s year of birth, france acceded to the Holy Alliance and went on to sign a solidarity agreement with the Hapsburg monarchy, Great Britain, Russia and Prussia at the Congress of Aachen with the aim of safeguarding peace, faith and moral customs in europe. in 1818, the year of death of the great enlightened pedagogue Joachim Heinrich Campe, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus was published. during that same year, 1818, within the historical context of the early nineteenth century, which was replete with “asynchronous synchronicities”, two greatly divergent Greek books appeared in Vienna: Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος [New Erotokritos] by Dionysios Photeinos, an adaptation of the work of Vincenzo Cornaro enriched with a plethora of anonymous “verses and songs”;[1] and Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα [Various moral and humorous verses], the first anthology of Modern Greek poetry, a corpus of 64 anonymous verses compiled by Zissis Daoutis.[2] These two publications will be our starting point in an endeavor to investigate and redefine the term “Phanariot verses”. Even though the timing of the publication of the two works has favored the impression that both are representative samples of “Phanariot poetry”[3] of the Age of the Enlightenment, and that the anonymous verses they contain are en masse Phanariot, thorough examination brings out a deeply rooted divergence between the two.
By browsing through the two volumes of Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος, one will find that the richly illustrated edition is oddly luxurious by the Greek standards of the early nineteenth century: the quality of printing and paper surpasses the average of the time; the illustrations were the work of important painters and engravers;[4] and the print run was remarkably high (1500 copies). According to a surviving letter of Photeinos, he himself gave specific instructions for the paper and illustration of his work, expressly asking that 500 copies of “semi-french binding”[5] be prepared in Vienna, together with 50 “gilded and comely” copies destined for “great subjects”.[6] At the time, expenditures of this level were dared only by the few.
As opposed to Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος, by browsing through the rather short anthology of Daoutis, one may discern by means of the cheap paper and its coarse types the publisher’s effort to keep production cost low. The selling price is also telling: Photeinos’ work was sold for 9 Viennese florins whereas Daoutis’ for merely 1.24.[7]
These external, bibliological differences suggest two distinct socioeconomic settings both in terms of the contributors to the publications and their buying/reading public. The same is suggested by the long list of subscribers to Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος and the title page of Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα – albeit to the extent that the social origins of the sponsors of a given publication allows us to draw conclusions about its reading public. Many among the 205 subscribers to the work of the composer, cantor and historian Photeinos[8] were Greek and Romanian dignitaries from the Phanariot milieu of Constantinople, Wallachia and Moldavia.[9] Conversely, the title page of the anthology of Daoutis, an intellectual merchant and Freemason, on which the names of the publication’s sponsors appear – Parisis Pamphyllos and Dimitrios Malkotzoglou, avowed “friends”[10] of Daoutis, brings to the fore a different audience, merchants who were players in the economic centers of the Ottoman Balkans and the communities of the diaspora.
The aforementioned findings show that even though the two publications were not intended for an entirely different public (which at any rate would be unlikely considering the small market of literary books, such was the Greek-speaking market of the time), they diverge in terms of those groups of the reading public which formed their primary receiver. The distinctiveness suggested by the typographical appearance, the contributors and the public of the two publications is evidenced by the content of the anonymous verses they include. Regardless of how much the old may coexist with the new, one thing is certain: not only do the neoteric collective consciousnesses emerging through the verses of Daoutis’ anthology not identify with the traditional consciousnesses expressed through the interspersed verses of Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος, they often are opposite to them. however, these contrasts have fallen through the cracks, as our tendency to use the generic term “Phanariot verses” has hindered us from picking out the differences, the “asynchronous synchronities”, and proceed to a more diversified review of Modern Greek poetry from the Age of the Enlightenment.
Acknowledging the restrictions imposed by the fact that a very large part of Enlightenment poetry remains virtually unknown, because the manuscripts through which it is delivered have not been systematically investigated,[11] I will attempt, after first summarizing the major conclusions of research conducted so far, to examine the term “Phanariot verses”, describe and possibly redefine the objects of research.
The term “Phanariot verses” appears to have been employed for the first time in 1959 by Ariadna Camariano in her article “Λαϊκά τραγούδια και φαναριώτικα στιχουργήματα Ελλήνων και Ρουμάνων του 18ου και 19ου αιώνος” [Popular songs and Phanariot verses of Greeks and Romanians of the eighteenth and nineteenth century].[12] Ever since, the term has come to be used in the context of research on the enlightenment to describe the work of poets and verse writers from the Phanariot milieu of Constantinople, Bucharest and Jassy who wrote during the eighteenth century and the first two decades of the nineteenth. At the same time, “Phanariot verses” were silently considered part of “Phanariot poetry”, namely a wider corpus of works, the content and determinants of which were never systematically defined. “Phanariot poetry” became a philological umbrella term encompassing various divergent texts such as the Βοσπορομαχία [Bosporomachia] of Caspar Ludwig Momarz,[13] the Ἠθική στιχουργία [Moral versification] of Alexandros Kalphoglou, the verses of Georgios Soutzos (alias Dragoumanakis) or those of Michailos Perdikaris, Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος, the anthology of Daoutis and many more.[14] It is a large topic inviting specialized investigation. here we will delve into the finding that “Phanariot poetry”, the generic term under which fall the “Phanariot verses” examined here, has not been clarified and is therefore not used with precision and consistency.
If we were to sum up the basic conclusions of the research hitherto conducted,[15] we would define “Phanariot verses” as metrical texts usually of a short length (approximately 12-32 lines) handed down to us through manuscripts and printed matter of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Their authors, even though in most cases no names have been preserved, were nevertheless well known among their contemporaries; in fact, quite a few of them were very highly regarded. in some cases, the manuscripts deliver names such as those of Georgios Soutsos, Giorgakis (the son of Iakovakis Rizos), Jannakitsa and alecu Vacarescu, mariora Tyaniti, giagos karatzas or matei Cara. for some of them we have acquired information from other sources too. They were Greek-speaking men and women from the highest social strata, initially of Constantinople, and later from other urban centers of the Empire, mostly Bucharest and Jassy.
The setting of the verses to music – for they are often urban songs –[16] is in many cases the work of musicians, who had risen to prominence as cantors or church musicians, mostly at the Ecumenical Patriarchate,[17] for example, the Lampadarios Petros Peloponnisios (c. 1730-1778)[18] or the Protopsaltis Iakovos Peloponnisios (c. 1740-1800).[19] Most of them were well-versed not only in the Byzantine but also in the Eastern music tradition, mainly its Persian and Arabic branches, while from the late eighteenth century onwards some of them would also become familiar with the Western European tradition.[20] In fact, some belong to a line of Greek musicians who, headed by Angelis in the mid-seventeenth century, had been linked to the court of the sultans.[21] In the eighteenth century, Petros Peloponnisios incarnated in an exemplary manner the type of musician who combined musical traditions with secular and church music while relating to the muslim musicians of the sultan’s court and the order of the Dervishes.[22] He set to music (and probably authored) many Phanariot verses.
A typical characteristic of Phanariot verses is the considerable percentage of foreign linguistic elements they contain. These elements originate either from eastern languages (Turkish, arabic, Persian) or – in a smaller number of texts – from the Romanian.
Phanariot verses usually delve into the trials and tribulations of love, the feebleness of fortune and the impossibility of true friendship, by employing a stereotypical repertoire of motifs and verse schemes. Their content reflects perceptions and attitudes of the Phanariot milieu. Literary treatment of the topics sometimes attests to influences from foreign literatures,[23] whereas in a few cases it has been proven that they are in fact translations from the French,[24] the Italian[25] or the Ancient Greek.[26]
The writing, reception and function of the Phanariot verses are, on the one hand, directly connected to the social and cultural processes that came to bear within Greek society during the eighteenth century (with the rise of literacy and the availability of free time to the economically privileged groups) and, on the other hand, to the forging of new forms of social interaction in the urban centers of the Ottoman Empire during that same period (strolls, lunches/dinners with friends, encounters in coffee shops, etc.).[27] The origins of the forging of such new forms of sociability, an integral part of which was the singing of verses set to music, are traced in the socalled “Tulip Era” (1717-1730) and are linked to the great plan to reshape the urban landscape of Constantinople inaugurated by Sultan Ahmed III and the Grand Vizier Nevsehirli Damad Ibrahim Pasha. Therefore, it is possible that the appearance of the first Phanariot verses dates to that particular period.[28] At any rate, in the 1760s, as evidenced by surviving manuscripts, the verses were already popular in Constantinople, Bucharest and Jassy,[29] from where they were to spread to other areas of the Greek-speaking sphere.
An interesting testimony that brings out the role of Constantinople comes from Jean-Baptiste-Gaspard d’Ansse de Villoison. The well-known French Hellenist, who travelled in the Ottoman Empire from 1784 to 1786, while in the Cyclades noted in his journal that, “Les Insulaires du bon ton sont ceux qui ont eu le bonneur d’aller à Constantinople, ils ne parlent que des nouvelles chansons, des modes du fanal, comme les provinciaux de celles de Paris.”[30] From the second half of the eighteenth century Constantinople began to take a dominating role across the diverse cultural spectrum of the greek-speaking world. The aesthetic tastes of the capital set the tone: fashion, both in clothing and in song lyrics, came from Constantinople. One tried to be in tune with the tones of the capital. In the early nineteenth century Phanariot verses can be found in the ionian islands, concurrent with the local tradition of urban songs.[31]
One effect of the relation between Phanariot verses and forms of urban sociability is the very practice of collecting them. It is unknown when it began, but it had definitely been established by the end of the 1760s, since the earliest known collection began to be compiled in 1769 and includes a significant number of verses.[32] The practice of compiling handwritten collections was preserved at least into the mid-nineteenth century.
The handwritten collections, known as mismagia[33] and backed by the oral tradition, served as the means par excellence of disseminating the verses. From 1790 onwards they begin appearing in printed matter too. These are initially literary narratives in prose, either originals or translations, into which the authors or translators incorporated their own and/or others’ verses. The verses were interspersed in the narration either as songs performed by the protagonists of the narratives or as letters in verse. The first example of one such work is the Σχολεῖον τῶν ντελικάτων ἐραστῶν [School of sentimental lovers] (Vienna 1790) of Rhigas Velestinlis, and the most representative one Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα [The effects of love] (Vienna 1792) by Ioannis Karatzas and Athanasios Psalidas.[34] In the 1790s, with the emergence of a Greek periodical press, the verses also appeared in the Ἐφημερίδα [newspaper] of the Pouliou brothers.[35] To the evolutionary line of this handwritten and printed tradition Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος and the Daoutis anthology were to be added in 1818, together with the celebrated Μελπομένη [Melpomene], the handwritten collection of Phanariot verses compiled by Nikiphoros Kantouniaris. The timing of these three important sources underlines the close symbiosis and engagement of the two traditions, printed and handwritten.
The aforementioned conclusions drawn from research, albeit allowing us to form a general picture, are not yet sufficiently specific as to exclude vagueness, unfortunate classifications and hence wrong interpretations. The term “Phanariot verses” is often used in excess, without first examining whether the texts under review are indeed related to the Phanariot milieu. Consequently, disparate texts are placed within the same group, those of the Phanariot verses, for which an erroneous impression has come to be formed, namely that it is a homogenized corpus of texts linked to the social and cultural context of the Phanariot milieu. The indiscriminate use of the terms “Phanariot verses” and “Phanariot poetry”, in spite of the linguistic, morphological and semantic differences of the texts, hinders the tracking down of different ideological trends and literary currents within the poetic output of the years 1700 to 1821.
Having examined approximately 500 verses from handwritten and printed sources alike, Ι will now lay down a few thoughts on the Phanariot verses. Given that research into the sources is still at a primary stage, the following observations are not to serve as conclusions but rather as suggestions of an instrumental character.
One functional criterion for proceeding to differentiations and categorizations which respect the texts’ historicity is the separation of the verses depending on whether they are delivered by means of manuscripts or prints. The manner in which the texts have been handed down is closely linked to important issues, such as their dating, the geographical and social origins of their creators, as well as the operation and genre character of their sources. By comparing the manuscripts and prints that deliver Phanariot verses in terms of these three points, we may conjecture the following:
The handwritten collections, namely the mismagia, constitute the oldest axis of tradition. They appeared at the latest in the 1760s, in other words at least three decades before the prints. In terms of its geographical and social context, the handwritten tradition is linked to the Phanariot milieu of Constantinople, Wallachia and Moldavia and to the milieu of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The names of verse writers and composers appearing on the manuscripts, but also proprietary and other notes, attest to this connection.
As regards their function, the handwritten mismagia are essentially notebooks, “καταστιχάκια” in the word of Daoutis,[36] on which their owners either wrote or transcribed usually over a longer period of time anything considered memorable or useful in their daily life: brief references to events, songs, their melody in the Byzantine notation, literary works, excerpts from readings, recipes, remedies, dream interpretations, observations on the zodiacs, but also rough calculations for economic transactions. The practice of collecting verses is directly linked to the entertaining function they acquired as leisure became available to the Greek-speaking, economically powerful urban strata during the eighteenth century. The mismagia, compiled over a longer period of time and at random in terms of the selection of texts, fall under the genre of collections and are not, as often considered, anthologies.
Printed sources, for their part, differ from the manuscripts firstly in terms of their geographical origins and social context. save for very few exceptions, they were published in Vienna, the printing bastion of the Modern Greek Enlightenment. The individuals connected to these publications were almost exclusively merchants and intellectuals of the diaspora, members of the fledgling Greek bourgeoisie and, by and large, advocates of the Enlightenment. In terms of the function of the verses, the prints differ greatly from the manuscripts. in those cases where prints are publications of literary narratives in prose, the primary function of the interspersed verses is intratextual: they tend to the narration, undertaking to express the heroes’ emotions, and contribute to the organization of the text’s dialogicity.[37] However, also in cases where prints contain verses only, for example the poems and songs in Daoutis’ Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα, they are decisively different than the handwritten mismagia. In terms of genre, Daoutis’ publication is not a collection, like the mismagia, but an anthology; it is a corpus compiled on the basis of a conscious selection from a wide set of texts. after all, the aim of the anthology was different as evidenced by the appearance in its title of the adjectives ηθικός (moral) and αστείος (humorous/entertaining). Daoutis, a merchant and an intellectual, did not aim solely to entertain; rather, he used it to forge values and identities.
The aforementioned differences suggest that those verses that have come down to us in handwritten form and those we have received in print do not make up a homogenized body of texts, as hitherto treated by researchers,[38] but comprise at least two separate if overlapping totals. in fact, the more recent printed tradition included a large number of verses previously delivered in handwritten mismagia. however, next to those, other, newer verses appear in print. still, how do we define the old and the new? Is the difference merely temporal? To be able to answer, we need to compare the handwritten and printed traditions in terms of their linguistic, morphological and semantic characteristics.
The linguistic comparison demonstrates that, in terms of their vocabulary, the verses in the manuscripts bear much more frequent influences from Eastern languages, usually Turkish. Sometimes, though rarely, the manuscripts contain entire verses in Turkish or Persian transcribed in Greek characters.[39] To the extent that language provides an indication of collective identities, the more pronounced presence of foreign, mostly Turkish linguistic elements in the handwritten tradition denotes the inclusion of the Phanariot world within the Ottoman status quo. At the same time, the presence across the manuscripts of verses in foreign languages (transcribed in Greek characters) invokes the multicultural demographic composition of the Empire’s urban centers and the – largely – intercultural character of daily contacts and influences. Indicative of such contacts and influences is the following reference on the languages of the songs from the description of a dinner at the house of stepan aga, a wealthy armenian, from the work Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα: “and then they began, out of abundant merriment, to sing, others in Turkish and others in armenian and others still in greek.”[40]
Contrary to what is the case in the handwritten tradition, the verses appearing in the printed tradition are linguistically purer. These prints seem to aim consciously for a “clearer” Greek language, and this aim seems to be aligned with the crystallization of a Greek national identity. However, despite the unquestionable tendency to limit foreign linguistic elements, we have not yet systematically investigated the manner in which this target was achieved. Did the editors choose to publish linguistically purer verses or did they subject the texts to linguistic editing, namely to extract certain foreign linguistic elements before publication? Or were both practices performed?[41]
Moving on to the morphological characteristics of the verses, we find that manuscripts and prints create the impression of a constant – at times boring – repetition of the same rhyme schemes and meters. In fact, the impression of homomorphy is so pronounced that it may easily mislead the reader and prevent him from noticing the divergences in form and, alongside those, divergences of content. However, from as far back as the 1930s research has pointed out the diversity in the verses of the Phanariot texts,[42] while there are indications (for instance the rhyme scheme aabccb, which appears frequently in Daoutis’ anthology, but seems to be rare in manuscripts) that underline the need for a more thorough investigation of the morphological characteristics of the verses, by means of comparing the handwritten with the printed tradition, both between themselves and to their contemporary poetic output in other languages.
The systematic study of the verses’ meter pattern could lead us to significant conclusions as to the origin of the rhyme schemes and possibly the models for the verses. Various influences, Eastern and Western ones, on the level of both versification and content, have been the object of observation, but also critique, from as far back as the eighteenth century. Dimitrios Katartzis alluded to the influence of Eastern literatures, reproving their popularity in the reading preferences of the higher strata of Greek society:
But as the Turks hold poetics as their most favorite occupation, our splendid young man fills his room with Persian and Turkish divans, and with Arabian kaside; and either with the Persians he assumes he is on the banks of rivers Seyhun and Nuzeyhun [?], surrounded by roses, jessamine and jasmine, sitting at the table under the shade of the trees, eating and drinking from the hand of a Ganymede; or together with the Arabs he thinks he rides a dromedary in the company of a Lais, brandishing his cane and singing, and he flies and passes through the graceful and odorous lands of Arabia; such remarkable literature![43]
Katartzis’ pupils, Grigorios Konstantas and Daniel Philippidis, would a few years later express their disdain over Western influences (but what’s more, Ancient Greek):
Our language, next to the other merits it possesses, is also greatly harmonious and poetic, and while each foreign nation admits to that, we alone do not know it […] we don’t look upon what is close by in order to understand the kind of treasure we have, but rather we look afar in search of verses that are Greek [= Ancient Greek], Italian, French, and we do not realize that italian, and indeed French versification, is nothing compared to ours. The most curious of all is that some of our lot craft wondrous verses, but due to a lack of esthetic potency they admire some miserable verses, foreign, indeed French.[44]
Finally, the systematic study of the meter pattern of Phanariot verses may contribute to the understanding of the association between texts and music. This association was underlined in 1819 by Charisios Megdanis, who noted that: “And those among the Poets who are also Musicians, have the facility and other numerous [meters] to create, driven by the different Music arrangements.”[45]
In terms of their choice of themes, the handwritten and printed traditions are found to converge greatly. Both delve into the topics of eros, friendship, fleeting fortune and xenitia. Yet, they diverge too. Praises for the princes provide a typical topic of the handwritten tradition, which underlines its relation to the Phanariot milieu,[46] reminding us in fact that part of the Phanariot verses is court poetry. No praises for princes appear in the printed tradition.[47] Nonetheless, the topic of patriotism (as love for the homeland and benefactions for the community) is absent from the handwritten collections. This particular topic, which is directly linked to ideological controversies in the context of the formulation of the Greek bourgeoisie and its claim for a leading role in Greek society,[48] is a standard in the printed tradition.
However, much more than the general choice of themes, the manner in which such themes are treated best exposes the differences between handwritten and printed traditions. By comparing same-themed verses from manuscripts and prints, we find that despite the common theme and their possible morphological similarities, the texts often express radically different viewpoints. By way of example, we may compare here four sets of verses themed after love (see Appendix, 1-4) each treated in a starkly different manner. For a brief overview of their particularities:
The first was written prior to 1778 and is representative of a large number of earlier verses. It proposes the traditional understanding of eros as a passion in the sense of illness,[49] without laying claims to literary originality. It is restricted to commonplaces and metaphors (slave to love, heartless beloved, ensnared bird), familiar through Greek folk songs and Petrarchism – in part through Persian, Arabic or Ottoman poetry.[50] This set of verse is, in my opinion, a typical example of the texts to which the term “Phanariot verses” should be restricted.
The second set of verses comes from Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα, in other words it was written before 1792, its year of publication. On the one hand, there are traditional elements of that segment of Greek folk poetry which is centered around love: rhymed couplets in iambic fifteen-syllable meter or symbols such as lemons (for the female breasts) and the nightingale (for eros). On the other hand, we perceive an impressive renewal of content and literary means. The text is detached from the traditional view of eros as passion in the sense of illness and approaches eros as something natural. At the same time, it lays claims to literary originality, inasmuch as it exploits the allegory of the female body as garden. This particular allegory, known to the Greek-speaking audience from the Song of Songs, functions here as a parody of the biblical text, adding to the verses an anticlerical dimension. The description of the garden as a locus amoenus, the reference to mythological figures and the affectedly light tone of the verses forebode the appearance of Anacreontics in Modern Greek literature.[51]
The third set of verses is also derived from Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα. This too invests in traditional rhymed couplets in iambic fifteen-syllable meter and a renewed content. It clearly expresses the outlook upheld by the enlightenment on eros, namely the view that eros is a “natural” passion in the sense of impulse, placed within Nature’s teleology. To lay out this view, the verse invokes the knowledge offered by natural sciences at the time: the description of how a human being falls in love is merely a metrical rendering of the views formulated by medicine on the operation of nerves and vision, under the influence of Newton’s physics. These views, widely disseminated during the eighteenth century, were known to Karatzas by means of the treatise Anatomische Tabellen of the German physician Johann Adam Kulmus (1689-1745).[52]
The fourth and last set of verses is taken from Daoutis’ anthology. With this we draw away from our first example, the type of verses that may be characterized as “Phanariot”. The form of the text (six-line stanzas rhymed after an aabccb pattern) is anything but traditional; so too its content. Eros, albeit central to the theme of the verses, is pushed aside by the themes of patriotism and concord. We have gone through the love-stricken, enamored Petrarchan man of the Phanariot verses (example 1), through the merry lover of Anacreontics (example 2) and the disciplined husband of the Enlightenment (example 3), to the patriotic bourgeois whose object of love is no longer a woman but the homeland (example 4). This different take on eros and the emergence of new concepts such as “homeland” and “patriotism” demonstrate that Daoutis’ anthology developed a social and ideological discourse which is greatly different to the discourse of the Phanariot world.
The same conclusion is reached upon examining the topic of friendship and fortune across the verses of Daoutis’ anthology. In the texts under review one may discern a turn away from the Weltanschauung determined by Christian morality and the socio-political landscape of Ottoman absolutism, towards new attitudes and perceptions linked to the ideas of the Enlightenment and serving the socio-political needs of the fledgling bourgeoisie.[53] The perpetual reversal of fortune which in the Phanariot verses demonstrates the vanity of worldly life is treated in Daoutis’ anthology as consolation in adversity, as a promise for better times. Friendship, an unattainable ideal in the court world of the Phanariots, is elevated to a sacred bond between Daoutis’ like-minded bourgeois and supports the new perspectives on philanthropy and concord.[54]
To recapitulate, I would propose the following pattern as a model tool for the study of the “Phanariot verses” of the Enlightenment: during the first half of the eighteenth century, a corpus of verses began to take shape in Constantinople, characterized mainly by its close connection to traditional views and attitudes and the limited extent of individualized expression. The principal means of dissemination for these verses were handwritten collections. To these collections the use of their contemporaneous term mismagia should be exclusively restricted. The language of the verses attests to the influence of Eastern languages, mostly Turkish, while their themes and motifs often evoke the Greek folk song tradition, Petrarchism and Eastern literatures. The relation of these verses to the Phanariot milieu allows us to term them “Phanariot”. The leading role of the Phanariot élite in the context of eighteenth-century greek society and the regulatory role undertaken by Constantinople within the cultural polymorphy of the Greek-speaking area are reflected in the dissemination of the Phanariot verses from the capital across the rest of the Greek-speaking world. Photeinos’ Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος with its anonymous interspersed verses, and being a regulatory endeavor to have the Cretan text submitted to Phanariot esthetics, is in fact the edge of the poetical tradition of the “Phanariot verses”.
Around 1790, a new trend began to take shape which would henceforth coexist with the older one, described above. The verses expressing the new trend employ a neoteric discourse based on the philosophical ideas of the Enlightenment and on contemporary scientific achievements. They were disseminated mostly through prints, books and periodicals published in the diaspora and avoided foreign loans in their language. These verses often reverberated European literary currents of the time, such as Anacreontics[55] and Sentimentalism.[56] Their literary archetypes must be sought in Greek folk songs and the poetry of Western and Central europe, not only in French, but also in Italian and German. The ideological discourse they developed places them within the cultural environment of the fledgling Greek bourgeoisie and the proponents of the Enlightenment. This new trend terminated in 1818, lucidly expressed across the anthology of Daoutis. Even though the anthology includes several older verses (Phanariot poems or songs and folk songs), its specific character is defined by verses that are not delivered by any other source and which are neoteric in terms of both content and form.
In 1818, when women’s fashion in Europe drew inspiration from Greek antiquity, an anonymous artist in the city of Siatista painted a mural of a rich lady in local attire together with her husband, the merchant Chatzimichail, dressed à l’européenne – namely, in trousers. In 1818, two pronouncedly divergent Greek works were published in Vienna: Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος of Dionysios Photeinos and Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα of Zissis Daoutis. The synchronicity of their publication disguises the asynchronous trends they express: the asynchronicity of a rapidly changing world, the asynchronicity of Greek society three years before the Revolution of 1821.
Translated from Greek by Despina Pirketti
University of Cyprus
[*] A considerable part of the research intended for this study was conducted during my three-month stay at Princeton University in 2009, as Visiting Research Fellow in the Program of Hellenic Studies. I hereby extend my thanks to the University for the Stanley J. Seeger scholarship which made this research possible. Thanks are also due to Tudor Dinu, professor of Modern Greek Studies; his invitation to deliver a speech on Phanariot poetry at the University of Bucharest afforded me the opportunity to go through some of the numerous manuscript collections of Phanariot verses kept in the Romanian Academy of Sciences. note that “Phanariot verses” renders in english the greek term “φαναριώτικα στιχουργήματα”. “Phanariot poetry” renders the term “φαναριώτικη ποίηση”.
[1] Dionysios Photeinos, Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος [New Erotokritos], 2 vols, Vienna: Hirschfeld, 1818, here Vol. i, p. iv: “στιχουργήματα και τραγώδια”. List of the interspersed “foreign” verses in Anteia Frantzi (ed.), Μισμαγιά. Ανθολόγιο φαναριώτικης ποίησης κατά την έκδοση Ζήση Δαούτη (1818) [Mismagia: anthology of Phanariot poetry as per the publication of Zissis Daoutis (1818)], Athens: Estia, 1993, pp. 274-279. A detailed comparison of the work to Ἐρωτόκριτος [Erotokritos] of Vincenzo Cornaro is provided by Natalia Deligiannaki, “Το gran finale της φαναριώτικης στιχουργίας” [The grand finale of Phanariot poetry], Κονδυλοφόρος 6 (2007), pp. 11-36.
[2] Zissis Daoutis (ed.), Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα, […] τυπωθέντα διὰ δαπάνης τῶν εἰλικρινεστάτων […] φίλων του, […] Παρίση Δημητρίου Παμφύλου […] καὶ Δημητρίου Χ. Σωτὴρ Μαλκότζογλου […] [Various moral and humorous verses (…) printed at the expense of his sincerest (…) friends, (…) Parisis dimitrios Pamphyllos (…) and dimitrios h. soter malkotzogou (…)], Vienna: Johann Zweck, 1818.
[3] See, for example, Cornelia Papacostea-Danielopolu, “‘Eros’ dans la littérature phanariote des Principautés”, Cahiers roumains d’études littéraires 3 (1988), pp. 32-42, here p. 32; and id., Convergences culturelles gréco-roumaines (1774-1859), Thessaloniki: Institute for Balkan Studies, 1998, p. 197. Cf. note 14 below.
[4] The engravings of Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος are listed by Philippos Iliou (Ελληνική βιβλιογραφία του 19ου αιώνα [Greek bibliography of the nineteenth century], Vol. I, Athens: ELIA, 1997, pp. 556-557, nos 1818.60 and 1818.61) and Deligiannaki (“Το gran finale”, pp. 19-20). They do, nevertheless, invite more than a simple listing. The vignette with the three Graces and Eros that decorates the engraved titled pages of volumes i and ii was drawn by the well-known swiss painter Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807). Kauffmann may well have become famous owing to the portraits she had painted, but she also contributed to the illustrations of books of famous litterateurs, such as Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock. The vignette with the three Graces on the title pages of Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος originated perhaps from one of the books Kauffmann had illustrated. The full-page engravings adorning the edition appear to have been specifically ordered. They depict scenes that are central to the plot of Ἐρωτόκριτος. They are signed by designers “Τ. Μανδάς” and “Λεοπ. Λειπ”, and engravers “Ιωαν. Β. Πφίτζερ” and “Ιωσ. Ιουγγκ”. Engraver Johann Baptist Pfitzer (b 1789) was quite well known in his time; until 1829 he worked in Vienna and Paris. Still, the best known of the four artists was Viennese Leopold Lieb (1771-1836), who had a notable career as a painter of historical and mythological themes. his compositions were widely used in porcelain decorations.
[5] The letter is published by m. Caratasu, “Dionysios Photinos de Patras et son ‘Histoire de l’ancienne Dacie’”, Πρακτικά του Α΄ Συνεδρίου Πελοποννησιακών Σπουδών [Proceedings of the 1st conference of Peloponnesian studies], Vol. II, Athens 1976, pp. 103-112, here pp. 110-111. Photeinos asked that “500 πεντακόσια σώματα [ἀπό τά 1500] νά τυπωθοῦν σέ χαρτί ἀπαράλλακτον τοῦ Λογίου Ἑρμοῦ […] καί μέ δέσιμον ἡμιγαλλικόν” [500 copies (of 1500) be printed on paper identical to that of Ἑρμής ὁ Λόγιος (…) and of semi-french binding].
[6] Ibid., pp. 110-111: “χρυσοδεμένα καὶ εὔμορφα”, “διὰ μεγάλα ὑποκείμενα”.
[7] See Iliou, Ελληνική βιβλιογραφία του 19ου αιώνα, p. 538, no. 1818.20, and p. 556, no. 1818.61.
[8] For the musical studies and general biography of Photeinos, see Dimitrios Oikonomidis, “Διονυσίου Φωτεινού βίος και έργον” [Life and works of Dionysios Photeinos], Μνημοσύνη 11 (1988-1990), pp. 83-173; Giorgos P. Savvidis, “Διονύσιος Φωτεινός (1777-1821)” [Dionysios Photeinos (1777-1821)], Κονδυλοφόρος 4 (2005), pp. 9-18; and Nicolae Georghita, “Πρόλογος” [Preface], in Dionysios Photeinos, Αναστασιματάριον νέον [Anastasimatarion neon], ed. N. Georghita, Mount Athos: Iera Kalyvi Evangelismos tis Theotokou, 2009, pp. i-xxxii.
[9] The large subscribers list of Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος is usually bound to the beginning of Vol. II.
[10] For the significance of the reference to “friends” within the historical and ideological context of Daoutis’ anthology, see Julia Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister, Ο τεκτονισμός στην ελληνική κοινωνία και γραμματεία του 18ου αιώνα [Freemasonry in Greek society and literature of the eighteenth century], Athens: Periplous, 2010, pp. 123-126.
[11] At least 12 and 35 manuscripts of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (mostly its first half), encompassing verses, are kept in Greek and Romanian libraries respectively. This estimate, offhand and conservative, draws its information from the bibliography of Nestor Camariano, Catalogul manuscriselor greceşti, Vol. II, Bucharest: imprimeria nationala, 1940; the bibliography of Constantin Litzica, Bibliotheca Academiei Române. Catalogul manuscriptelor greceşti, Bucharest: Carol göbl, 1909; and from everything pointed out by Frantzi, “Εισαγωγή” [introduction], in id. (ed.), Μισμαγιά, pp. 19-23. Only for a minimum of these manuscripts do we obtain analytic descriptions, while as few as two of them have been published: see Anastasia Tsakiridou (ed.), “‘Μελπομένη’. Έκδοση της χειρόγραφης μισμαγιάς του Νικηφόρου Καντουνιάρη ‘Μελπομένη’ (1818)”, [“Melpomene”: an edition of the handwritten mismagia of Nikiphoros Kantouniaris’ “melpomene” (1818)], Ph.D. thesis, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Department of Philology, Thessaloniki 2007; and Dimitrios Ζ. Sophianos (ed.), Η ανέκδοτη φαναριώτικη ποιητική συλλογή του κώδικα 666 Μονής Μεγάλου Μετεώρου (ΙΗ΄ αιώνας) [The unpublished Phanariot poetry collection Ms. 666 of the Megalo Meteoro monastery (eighteenth century)], Athens: Research Centre for Medieval and Modern Hellenism, 2011. Philologist Marianna Routzaki is now working on a publication of Ms. 725 of the Gennadius Library, Athens.
[12] Α. Camariano, “Λαϊκά τραγούδια και φαναριώτικα στιχουργήματα Ελλήνων και Ρουμάνων του 18ου και 19ου αιώνος” [Popular songs and Phanariot verses of Greeks and Romanians of the eighteenth and nineteenth century], Λαογραφία 18 (1959), pp. 94-112. It would be especially useful for the terms appearing in the eighteenth- and early-nineteenthcentury sources to be gathered together. in the subtitle of Ἔρωτος ἀποτέλεσματα [The effects of love, 1792], the work’s verses are en masse termed as “songs”. In his preface to the translation of Galatée (Vienna: markides Pouliou, 1796, pp. i-x) of Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian, Antonios Koronios employed the term “songs” for the verses he had incorporated in the translation, even though they do include verses which do not appear to have been set to music (e.g. the “Αδώνιον” [Adonion], ibid., pp. 144-147). Therefore, the term “song” (τραγούδι) is used in both works in a generalized sense. The tendency of the term “song” in the late eighteenth century to include verses that are not sung is probably derived from the fact that the process of transition from sung poetry to read poetry was yet to be completed. Also of note is that apart from the word “song” (τραγούδι), Koronios used in his preface the words “poet” (ποιητής), “poem” (ποίημα) and “writer of verses” (στιχουργός) and in fact in such a manner that shows that the intellectual from Chios believed that the terms “verse” (στιχούργημα), “song” and “poem” denoted different grades of the text’s literary quality. In 1818, in the title and preface to his anthology, Daoutis characterized the texts contained in his work as “verses”. Obviously, the term does not preclude songs, seeing that the anthology includes a multitude of them. During the same year, Photeinos – let us recall here that he was a musician – distinguished between texts intended for reading and texts intended for singing; he talks of “pronounced and blooming verses and […] songs” (ἔντονα καὶ ἀνθηρὰ στιχουργήματα καὶ […] τραγώδια; Νέος Ἐρωτόκριτος, Vol. I, pp. iii-iv).
[13] For identification, see Albrecht Berger, “Die Bosporomachia des Senior Momars”, Zwischen Polis, Provinz und Peripherie, Wiesbaden 2005, pp. 749-775.
[14] See, for instance, Leandros Vranoussis (ed.), Οι πρόδρομοι [The forerunners], Athens: Aetos, [1956], Vassiki Bibliothiki, 11, pp. xi-xii, 61, 65-66, 73-74. The example is especially representative because it originates from the propagated “Basic Library”, which, as a series of anthologies of texts representative of literary genres or periods of Modern Greek letters, aspired to (and probably played) a regulatory role. Also see note 3 above.
[15] Here I mainly sum up the findings of the studies of Ariadna Camariano, Panagiotis Pistas, C. Th. Dimaras, Mario Vitti, Anteia Frantzi and G. P. Savvidis, referenced across different footnotes in the present study.
[16] Alexis Politis, Το δημοτικό τραγούδι [The folk song], Heraklion: University of Crete Press, 2010, pp. 121-123; and id., “Το δημοτικό τραγούδι” [The folk song], in Ιστορία του Ελληνικού Έθνους [History of the Greek nation], Vol. XI, Athens: Ekdotiki Athinon, pp. 284-299, esp. p. 291. Politis was the first to point out the significance of the “Phanariot verses” and urban songs in general for the transition from the oral to the written and respectively from unauthored to authored output.
[17] Some of the writers of verses were musicians too. For the relation between church and secular music, see samuel Baud-Bovy, Δοκίμιο για το ελληνικό δημοτικό τραγούδι [essay on the greek folk song], Nafplio: Peloponnesian Folklore Foundation, 1984, pp. 15-23, 55-58; and Markos Dragoumis, “Το φαναριώτικο τραγούδι” [The Phanariot song], in Frantzi (ed.), Μισμαγιά, pp. 285-289. In general for the Greek musicians of the time, see the study of Giannis Plemmenos, Το μουσικό πορτρέτο του νεοελληνικού Διαφωτισμού [Musical portrait of the Modern Greek Enlightenment], Athens: Psiphida, 2003; and id., “‘Έρωτος αποτελέσματα’, έργο φαντασίας ή εθνογραφία της φαναριώτικης μουσικής;” [“The effects of love”, a work of fiction or an ethnography of Phanariot music?], Αριάδνη 9 (2003), pp. 167-179. The studies of Plemmenos were the first to point out the need for an interdisciplinary collaboration between philological and musicological research on the Phanariot verses. Reference must be made, even though i have not been able to read it, to the thesis of Kyriakos Kalaitzidis, Post-Byzantine Music Manuscripts as a Source for Oriental Secular Music (15th to Early 19th Century), Würzburg: Ergon, 2012.
[18] Grigorios T. Stathis, “Η σύγχυση των τριών Πέτρων” [The confusion of the three Peters], Βυζαντινά 3 (1971), pp. [213]-251, esp. pp. 228-229; and Christos G. Patrinelis: “Συμβολαί εις την ιστορίαν του Οικουμενικού Πατριαρχείου. Α΄ Πρωτοψάλται, λαμπαδάριοι και δομέστικοι της Μεγάλης Εκκλησίας (1453-1821)” [Contributions to the history of the ecumenical Patriarchate: protopsaltai, lampadarioi and domestikoi of the Ecumenical Patriarchate (1453-1821)], Μνημοσύνη 2 (1968-1969), pp. 64-93, here pp. 85-86. The lampadarios is the leader of the left choir in the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
[19] Ibid., pp. 79-80. The protopsaltis is the leader of the right choir in the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
[20] For eastern traditions, see Baud-Bovy, Δοκίμιο για το ελληνικό δημοτικό τραγούδι, pp. 55-58. Examples of musicians versed in different traditions or those who composed both secular and church music abound in the biographical entries offered by Georgios Ι. Papadopoulos, Συμβολαὶ εἰς τὴν Ἱστορίαν τῆς παρ’ ἡμῖν ἐκκλησιαστικῆς μουσικῆς [Contributions to the history of our liturgical music], Athens: Koussoulinos, 1890, pp. 308-369.
[21] Christos Tsiamoulis and Pavlos Ereunidis, Ρωμηοί συνθέτες της Πόλης (17ος-20ός αι.) [Greek composers in Constantinople (seventeenth-twentieth century)], Athens: Domos, 1998, pp. 15-30; and Matthias Kappler, Türkischsprachige Liebeslyrik in griechisch-osmanischen Liederanthologien des 19. Jahrhunderts, Berlin: Klaus Schwarz, 2002, pp. 57-63, 64.
[22] Giannis Plemmenos, “Νέο αυτόγραφο του Πέτρου Πελοποννησίου” [a new autograph of Petros Peloponnisios], Πελοποννησιακά 28 (2005-2006), pp. 220-241, esp. pp. 220-221.
[23] Frantzi, “Εισαγωγή”, pp. 13-14 and 40.
[24] A very interesting case of translation from French was presented by C. Th. Dimaras, “Φευγαλέα ποίηση” [Elusive poetry], Ο Ερανιστής 13 (1976), pp. 49-60. In this article, Dimaras traced the original of a greek verse from Ms. 668 of the Romanian Academy of Sciences and pointed out that along the line of reception of the French text lies the poem of Christopoulos sometimes entitled “Σύντροφοι” [Companions] and Cavafy’s prose piece “Το βουνό” [The mountain]. More recent editions of these two texts: Athanasios Christopoulos, Ποιήματα [Poems], ed. Giorgos Andriomenos, Athens: Kostas and Eleni Ourani Foundation, 2001, pp. 157-158; and Constantin P. Cavafy, Τα πεζά (1882;-1931) [Works in prose (1882?-1931)], ed. Michalis Pieris, Athens: Ikaros, 2003, pp. 164-166.
[25] For example, the verse “Ζέφυρε γλυκέ αν εύρης, την καρδιά που αγαπώ” [Sweet Zephyr, should you find the heart that I love] is the translation of an excerpt from the cantata “amor timido” of Pietro Metastasio. See Dimitris Spathis, Ο Διαφωτισμός και το νεοελληνικό θέατρο [The Enlightenment and Modern Greek Theater], Thessaloniki: University Studio Press, 1986, pp. 124-125.
[26] For example, the verse “Η Αφροδίτη έξαφνα έχασε το παιδί της” [Aphrodite swiftly lost her child], which was attributed to Nikolaos Mavrokordatos (1744-1818), is the translation of a poem by Ancient poet Moschos (c. 150 BC). see Vranoussis (ed.), Πρόδρομοι, pp. 56-57.
[27] C. Th. Dimaras, Ιστορία της νεοελληνικής λογοτεχνίας [History of Modern Greek literature], Athens: Ikaros, 61975, p. 163; and Julia Chatzipanagioti-sangmeister, “Το Σχολείον των ντελικάτων εραστών και το Έρωτος αποτελέσματα. Νέα στοιχεία για τα στιχουργήματά τους” [The School of sentimental lovers and the Effects of love: new evidence about their verses], Ο Ερανιστής 23 (2001), p. 161.
[28] This hypothesis and relative arguments are developed in my article “‘Εις το θέατρο του κόσμου’. Απηχήσεις του Μπαρόκ στα φαναριώτικα στιχουργήματα;” [“On the world stage”: Baroque reverberations in the Phanariot verses?], in id. et al. (eds), Φαναριώτικα στιχουργήματα [Phanariot verses], Athens: Academy of Athens, 2013 (forthcoming).
[29] I refer to Ms. 725 of the Gennadius Library, about which a more analytical reference is made further below.
[30] Villoison in Grecia. Note di viaggio (1784-1786), ed. Renata Lavagnini, Quaderni, 9, Palermo: Istituto Siciliano di Studi Bizantini e Neoellenici, 1974, p. 55. A significant role in disseminating the songs was played, as is known, by the movement of both individuals and professional groups, but also of nomadic populations, gypsies especially. For the role of the latter in the spread of urban songs, see Baud-Bovy, Δοκίμιο για το ελληνικό δημοτικό τραγούδι, pp. 61-65.
[31] An indicative example would be the Phanariot verses contained in Code Ms. Berol. Graec. Fol. 24 of the Jagiellonian library in Krakow. The Code is composed of various manuscripts which record verses from seven different scribes. The manuscripts were brought by the German nobleman Sebastian Albert von Sack from his journey to the Eastern Mediterranean, and most of them, if not all, come from the Ionian Islands. The manuscript was published by Ioanna Mavrogeorgi (ed.), Neugriechische Lieder. Gesammelt vom Grafen Sack, Cologne: Romiosini, 2006. The Phanariot verses can be found on pp. 70-73.
[32] Ms. 725 kept in the Gennadius Library in Athens. See Julia Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister,
“Στιχουργήματα και συνταγές από τον 18ο αιώνα. Ο κώδικας 725 της Γενναδείου Βιβλιοθήκης” [Verses and recipes from the eighteenth century: Ms. 725 of the Gennadius Library], Göttinger Beiträge zur Byzantinischen und Neugriechischen Philologie 2 (2002), pp. 23-37.
[33] For the term mismagia, which stems from the Ottoman (mecmua: collection) and adopted from the Greek through the Romanian but also for the collections in general, see Mario Vitti, “Εισαγωγή” [introduction], in Ι. Κ., Έρωτος αποτελέσματα [The effects of love], ed. by M. Vitti, Athens: Odysseas, 1993, pp. 7-41, here p. 20; Dimaras, Ιστορία της νεοελληνικής λογοτεχνίας, p. 169; Frantzi, “Εισαγωγή”, p. 11; Kappler, Türkischsprachige Liebeslyrik, p. 26; and Mario Vitti, Ιστορία της νεοελληνικής λογοτεχνίας [History of Mmodern Greek literature], Athens: Odysseas, 2003, p. 153.
[34] Owing to the significant number of verses it contains, it is worth mentioning here the translation of Galatée of Claris de Florian made by Koronios and published in 1796 (see note 12 above). For these verses, see Stessi Athini, “Οι πρώτες ελληνικές μεταφράσεις του Florian” [The earliest Greek translations of Florian], Ελληνικά 45 (1995), pp. 317-323, here pp. 318-320.
[35] Phanariot verses may be found in the 1797 issues of Ἐφημερίδα [newspaper]. See Leandros Vranoussis, Εφημερίς. Προλεγόμενα [Newspaper: foreword], Athens: Research Centre for Medieval and Modern Hellenism, 1995, pp. 278-304. It should be pointed out that the issues of the years 1795-1796 could not be located so far.
[36] Daoutis, Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα, p. [5]: “ Ἐσύναξα ἀπὸ διάφορα καταστιχάκια (κοινῶς Μισμαγιὰ λεγόμενα) τῶν φίλων μου διάφορα στιχουργήματα.” [I have collected from various journals (commonly known as Mismagia) various verses of my friends.].
[37] For the function of verses vis-à-vis the narration, see Vitti, “Εισαγωγή”, pp. 7-41, here p. 22; for their function vis-à-vis the dialogicity of the text, see Chatzipanagiotisangmeister, “Το Σχολείον των ντελικάτων εραστών και το Έρωτος αποτελέσματα”, pp. 143-165, here pp. 162-163, and id., “Ιωάννης Καρατζάς ο Κύπριος και Αθανάσιος Ψαλίδας, ή ο έρωτας και τα αποτελέσματά του στη νεοελληνική λογοτεχνία του Διαφωτισμού” [Ioannis Karatzas of Cyprus and Athanasios Psalidas, or love and its effects on the Modern Greek literature of the enlightenment], Επετηρίδα Κέντρου Επιστημονικών Ερευνών 31 (2005), pp. 249-284, here esp. pp. 256-257 and p. 266.
[38] Cf. Frantzi, “Εισαγωγή”, p. 38.
[39] See Julia Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister and Matthias Kappler, “Thoughts on the Turkish Verses in Phanariot Poetry Collections (1750-1821)”, in Evangelia Balta and Matthias Kappler (eds), Cries and Whispers in Karamanlidika Books, Proceedings of the First International Conference on Karamanlidika Studies, Nicosia, 11-13 September 2008, Turcologica, 83, Wiesbaden: Harrasowitz Verlag, 2010, pp. 219-240, esp. pp. 232-227 and (samples of texts) pp. 229-240. Verses written in a Romanian language with Greek characters are found in Greek manuscripts that come from the area of current-day Romania, while some manuscripts, such as Μελπομένη, contain French verses transliterated in Greek characters. A comparative approach of the foreign-language verses recorded in the mismagia in Greek characters would lead to interesting conclusions on the social, political and cultural function of each of the languages used within Ottoman society.
[40] [Ioannis Karatzas the Cypriot and Athanasios Psalidas], Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα [The effects of love], Vienna: Vendotis, 1792, p. 59. Definitely of interest here is the conspicuousness of the Turkish language, as there is no reference whatsoever to the presence of any Turks; the host is Armenian, his guests being armenian relatives of his and a Greek.
[41] Daoutis himself touched on the question of language in the preface to his anthology, declaring his preference for a purer Greek language: “Πλὴν πάλι τοὺς παρακαλῶ νὰ μοὶ τὰ στέλλωσιν, ὅσον τὸ δυνατόν, καθαρὰ ἀπὸ ξένας λέξεις.” [Again I beseech that they send them as cleansed from foreign languages as possible.]. see frantzi, “Εισαγωγή”, p. 39, and Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister and Kappler, “Thoughts on the Turkish Verses”, pp. 221-222.
[42] In 1933, Ilias Voutieridis referred to the “fine versification” of the Phanariot texts, indicating its features to be the elaboration of verses, rhyming variety and metrical innovations: “The verse is often worked-on; rhymes are difficult and technical; there are not many hiatuses; some of the meters appear for the first time in Modern Greek poetry, e.g. the nine-syllable paroxytone, the fourteen-syllable paroxytone, the eight-syllable oxytone. Through variations of rhyme for a more technical interweaving of the verses, these poems may be divided into stanzas.”; see I. Voutieridis, Σύντομη ιστορία της νεοελληνικής λογοτεχνίας [Brief history of modern greek literature], Athens: Zikakis, 1933, p. 244 and p. 250. see also id., Νεοελληνική στιχουργική [Modern Greek versification], Athens: Kolaros, 1929, pp. 95, 97, 104, 106-107.
[43] “Ἔχωντας ὅμως οἱ Τούρκοι τήν πλιό ἀγαπημένη τους σπουδή τά ποιητικά, γεμίζει κι ὁ σπουδαῖος μας νέος τόν ὀντά του ντιβάνια, πέρσικα, τούρκικα, καί κασιντέδες ἀραβικούς· καί ή μέ τούς Πέρσαις θαρρεῖ νά βρίσκεται στής ὄχθαις τοῦ Σεϊχούν καί Νουζεϊχούν, νά εἶναι περιτριγυρισμένος ἀπό τριαντάφυλλα, φούλια καί γιασουμιά, νά κάθετ’ ἀπουκάτ’ ἀπτά δέντρα εἰς τό τραπέζι, νά τρώγη καί νά πίν’ ἀπό τό χέρ’ ἑνοῦ Γανυμήδη· ἤ μέ τούς Ἄραβες τόν φαίνεται πώς εἶναι καβαλάρης σέ μιά δρομάδα ἀπάνου, μέ μία Λαΐδα τή συνοδιά του, καί περιστρέφωντας στό χέρι του τό καλαμένιο κοντάρι καί τραβουδώντας, πετᾶ καί διέρχεται σάν ἀστραπή τούς χαριτωμένους κι εὐωδέστατους τόπους τῆς Ἀραβίας· τί φιλολογία ἀξιόλογη!” Dimitrios Katartzis, “Συμβουλή στους νέους” [advice for the young], in id., Τα ευρισκόμενα [Oeuvres], ed. C. Th. Dimaras, Athens: Ermis, 1999, pp. 42-71, here pp. 50-51.
[44] “ Ἡ γλώσσα μας κοντά εἰς ἄλλα προτερήματα ὁποῦ ἔχει, εἶναι καί πολλά ἀρμονική καί ποιητική, καί ὅλα τά ξένη ἔθνη τό ὁμολογοῦν, ἡμεῖς μόνο δέν τό ἠξεύρομεν […] δέν βλέπομεν ἀπό κοντά, νά καταλάβωμε τί θησαυρόν ἔχομεν, ἀμή κοιτάζομεν μακρυά νά ἰδοῦμεν τίποτες στίχους Ἑλληνικούς [= ἀρχαίους ἑλληνικούς], Ἰταλικούς, Φραντζέζικους, καί δέν στοχαζόμαστε πώς ἡ στιχουργία ἡ Ἰταλική, μάλιστα ἡ Φραντζέζικη δέν εἶναι τίποτες συγκρινόμενη μέ τήν ἐδική μας. Τό πλέον κουριόζικο εἶναι ὁποῦ μερικοί ἐδικοί μας κάμνουν στίχους θαυμαστούς, ὡς τόσο στερημένοι τρόπον τινά ἀπό αἰσθητική δύναμι, θαυμάζουν κάποιαις κακορρίζικαις στιχουργίαις ξέναις καί μάλιστα Φραντζέζικες.” grigorios konstantas and Daniel Philippidis, Γεωγραφία νεωτερική [New geography], ed. A. Koumarianou, Nea Elliniki Bibliothiki, 45, Athens 1988, p. 114.
[45] “Καὶ ὅσοι τῶν Ποιητῶν εἶναι ἅμα καὶ Μουσικοί, ἔχουσι τὴν εὐκολίαν καὶ ἄλλα πλεῖστα [μέτρα] νὰ διαπλάττωσιν, ἐκ τῶν διαφόρων Μουσικῶν θέσεων ὁδηγούμενοι.” Charisios Megdanis, Καλλιόπη παλινοστοῦσα, ἤ περὶ ποιητικῆς μεθόδου [Reappearing Calliope, or the poetical method], Vienna: Johann Schnierer, 1819, p. 81.
[46] A pertinent example is the praise for a prince in Ms. 725 of the Gennadius Library. Ms. 83 of the Romanian Academy of Sciences includes a mirror for princes in verses.
[47] I do not mean prints in general, but only those which contain verses and make up what has further above been defined as the printed tradition of verses.
[48] Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister, Ο τεκτονισμός, pp. 112-122.
[49] Thoroughly analyzed in id., “‘Εκ του οράν το εράν’. Der Eros und seine Wirkungen in der phanariotischen Lyrik der Aufklärung”, in Maria A. Stassinopoulou and Ioannis Zelepos (eds), Griechische Kultur in Südosteuropa in der Neuzeit, Byzantina et Neograeca Vindobonensia, 26, Vienna: Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2008, pp. 91-112; and id., “Ιωάννης Καρατζάς ο Κύπριος και Αθανάσιος Ψαλίδας”, pp. 249-284. Similar findings as to the sense of passion were set forth by Giannis Xourias, even though he reached a different interpretation. See G. Xourias, “Τα δικαιώματα του πάθους. Τα ‘Έρωτος αποτελέσματα’ στο φαναριώτικο τραγούδι” [The rights of passion: the “Effects of love” on Phanariot songs], Σύναψις 6 (2007), pp. 70-83.
[50] The relationship of the Phanariot verses to Eastern literatures remains an open topic. Testimonies like that of Katartzis show that the Greek and in general the Greek-speaking élites were familiar with the cultural tradition of the Muslim élites that prevailed in Ottoman society, yet this topic has not been systematically looked into. An offhand comparison between Phanariot love poetry and Ottoman court poetry reveals similarities across employed images, symbols and metaphors, e.g. the pomegranate, the nightingale, weeping love. (For the Ottoman texts, see Ottoman Lyric Poetry: An Anthology, expanded edition, ed. and transl. Walter G. Andrews, Najaat Black and Mehmet Kalpakli, Seattle: University of Washington, 2006, pp. 201, 202, 207.) At the same time, the comparison reveals a much more important difference: the Phanariot verses lack the metaphysical dimension which is evident in Ottoman poetry. In the former ones, the object of erotic love is almost always a woman and is never identified with something ideal, e.g. the divine. On the contrary, in Ottoman poetry, the object of adoration is often masculine and may be identified – on a second level – with the divine. Further, as opposed to Ottoman poetry, eros as a theme in the Phanariot verses cannot – in my opinion – be placed within the context of an authoritative discourse. The pattern of the enamored man as a slave of his beloved or of eros cannot be interpreted as a metaphor of the relation between subject and sultan as is the case in Ottoman poetry. Besides, it is encountered both in Greek folk songs and in Petrarchism (though without any references to an idea or a higher reality which are on occasion found in the context of Petrarchan poetry). For the metaphysical dimension of Ottoman court poetry, see walter andrews, Poetry’s Voice, Society’s Song: Ottoman Lyric Poetry, Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1985, esp. pp. 62 onwards. The view that the relationship between lover-beloved is equivalent to that between subject-sultan is attributed to the same researcher. Speculations over the relationships between Phanariot love verses and Eastern literatures must take account of the fact that the iconology of erotic love and of the beloveds in Turkish folk songs share many similarities with that of Greek folk songs in terms of symbols (pomegranate, bird, apple, etc.) and metaphors (hawk/hunter – gazelle/partridge, etc.). See Ali Osman Öztürk, Das türkische Volkslied als sprachliches Kunstwerk, Studien zur Volksliedforschung, 15, Bern: Peter Lang, 1994, pp. 79-80, 92, 95-97.
[51] For an analytical account, see Chatzipanagioti-sangmeister, “Ιωάννης Καρατζάς ο Κύπριος και Αθανάσιος Ψαλίδας”, pp. 269-271.
[52] Ibid., pp. 272-277.
[53] For an analytical account, see Chatzipanagioti-Sangmeister, Ο τεκτονισμός, pp. 123-126.
[54] Ibid., p. 112 ff.
[55] It should be pointed out that Anacreontics, albeit a much older current, flourished again and gained much popularity during the second half of the eighteenth century, especially so in the German-speaking realm.
[56] The influences of Sentimentalism are evident in Daoutis’ anthology. however the Ποιημάτια [Poems] (1817) of Georgios Sakellarios, the work par excellence of Sentimentalism in Modern Greek literature, preceded it by a year. It is worth noting here that the up to then unusual theme of the death of a loved one, indicative of the presence of Sentimentalism, appears in both works.
APPENDIX
1. Verses by an unknown creator, written prior to 1778. It is found in Ms. 725 (f. 35v-36r.) of the Gennadius Library, Athens, the first proprietors of which were in the service of Phanariot princes.
I have realized, O my light, that you care nothing for me
and you have stubbornly decided to torture me.
I have found out, I know, that you want me to perish,
you consent that I die and unjustly be killed.
Your eyes that I leave and walk into the grave 5
and, poor me, unjustly descend into Hades?
Wouldn’t it be a waste, O noble bird,
that I die unjustly from excessive crying?
Don’t you pity, don’t you have mercy, O fair bird,
for a guileless slave of yours, who dearly loves you? 10
Be sure beyond a doubt of the faithful love
that I have for you from my heart, guileless and special.
And that I have an extreme yearning, yearning that is excessive,
to the depths of my heart, passion that’s all-encompassing.
Have mercy, have pity, do not seek that I perish, 15
and please come, so that I be set free.
2. Verses by an unknown creator, found in Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα (Vienna: Vendotis, 1792, pp. 155-157) of Ioannis Karatzas and Athanasios Psalidas. The publication of the work stands as terminus ante quem for the verses.
Into a fair garden I stepped to take a stroll,
to smell its blossoms and reap its fruit.
Blossoms and roses fresh and fragrant,
and small, tender lemons that do tempt me.
As soon as I laid eyes on them I screamed, my heart was torn asunder, 5
O that i had them in my hands, O that they were mine.
Amidst so much beauty, a sweet-voiced nightingale
I heard cheeping and scolding me.
And with amorous anger harshly it threatens me,
that I do not touch them for it shall ruin me. 10
And whilst it hindered me I could hear it speaking,
with such a fervent voice, that it scorched my heart.
And I began to beg and flatter it,
for pity and mercy and a favor as I was seeking from it
that it would let me smell them just once, 15
that I merely touch and then let go of them again.
So it pitied me and gave me license,
allowing me to become the utter host of all of these.
Immediately with dare and joy I stepped inside the lemon garden,
and everything I yearned for there I found. 20
Even further from where I had stood in awe,
the things I saw enticed me.
I saw a lowland, spherical, covered in snow,
that seemed as if it had been made of wax.
And on the lap of the lowland two hills joined together, 25
from afar they looked as if the two were one.
But they were two, separate, fittingly joined,
covered in tender grass.
And in between the mountains I saw spouting,
on two comely columns a fair spring. 30
No sooner had I drawn near than my limbs were shattered,
it seemed to me that they bewitched me and snatched my heart away.
I felt my blood stirring and burning,
so much so that I thought it meant to burn me alive.
There immediately I wanted to stop, 35
and put out the fire that was consuming me.
And between the columns by the spring,
from my ardent longing I passed out.
Immediately then I did fall over the blossoms and smell with yearning,
the sweet lemons I kiss and suckle. 40
I thought I was dead and gone,
but rather I was living hidden amidst the mountains.
On those renowned mountains of aphrodite,
on which she lives with her child,
that mischievous and cunning one, 45
she had raised in lands so fair.
and because of that an adept hunter it has become,
and from his arrows no one may ever escape.
3. Verses found in Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα (Vienna: Vendotis, 1792, pp. 187-188). It may have been written by Karatzas and/or Psalidas. Their terminus ante quem is the publication of Ἔρωτος ἀποτελέσματα.
When lovers happen to leave
their former amore and take another,
the light [a] is to be blamed, where it gazes
and by reflection [b] illuminates love [c].
With this return [d] the light takes from the other 5
the same attraction and inclination reveals.
And after this the spirits do move and flow back,
upon the brain their traces [e] marking.
And so these spirits must replace
the first traces [f] made there and be done with them 10
when the yearning first appeared,
in the first subject and was loved by it.
Around is the second one [g] printed upon the trace,
shaped by the sympathetic matter.
And as they often move about the spirits so they take 15
the type of her face [h] and do replace it.
Therefore this is the movement of the spirits that causes
an internal pleasure placed within man.
And then by attaching that pleasure
where his spirit imagines [i] and inclines towards, 20
he loves it so passionately as though he doesn’t err [j],
neither does he recall a past amore of former beauty.
[a] The light gazing from the eyes.
[b] Reflection of the light, projected to the second light and upon returning received love.
[c] The same applies to reflection.
[d] The female part receives the same passion upon the reflection of light from her beloved’s eyes.
[e] Traces left behind by dragging.
[f] The first traces of the first subject one loved and abandoned.
[g] The second subject, which he receives in the place of the former.
[h] The type of the second, shaped by the sympathetic matter.
[i] To the second subject.
[j] So much he loves it that it seems to him he is not misled, neither does he remember if he had ever loved before.
4. Verses published in Zissis Daoutis’ anthology, Διάφορα ἠθικὰ καὶ ἀστεῖα στιχουργήματα. The anthology’s year of publication, 1818, stands as their terminus ante quem. They are not found in any other source; therefore they may well be a work of Daoutis himself.
Where is the Greece of legend
which for one Helen,
as a whole
and with zeal takes on weapons,
and runs, and sheds for a friend 5
rivers of blood?
Where are the patriots of the time,
those that as one
want to take revenge?
Against Paris they march, 10
stealing they cannot stand,
they consent to their death.
For myself neither friend,
nor blood or zeal,
or revenge. 15
If it differs, the way
of stealing, what’s it to me?
The wound is unchanged.
Oh! My homeland, oh! my friends, now
is the time of patriotism, 20
now is friendship put to the test.
Do not endure this Paris,
who has come to take from me
abruptly and all of sudden
the woman, who for years now 25
has been placed on a throne
by the heavens of my heart,
and she weaved wreaths for me
sacred and proud,
as was prescribed by common law. 30
Do not bear that instead of marrying,
I will be faced with Hades,
with the earth instead of a nuptial chamber.
Heal if you may do so,
in any way you can, 35
this bitter wound.
And you, O Aphrodite,
against this Trojan man
you don’t move! How can you bear it?
How can eros withstand it, 40
that it should be turned to grave
the nuptial chamber?
And perennially be put out,
the lit taper
he wanted to hold 45
on the wedding day,
until its very evening,
before the couple.
Oh! dear homeland,
is there no hope, 50
land, stars and heavens?
Either you heal a passion,
from the depths of the heart,
which cruelly tortures me.
Or the new Menelaus 55
you should make braver still
with weapons of revenge,
against the enemy so he may run
and with his blood dampen
the earth he lives on. 60
The new Trojan man,
the enemy of aphrodite,
Paris the very tough,
[…].
But what do I say? What do I scream?
What wars do i prepare?
What revenge do i desire?
The enemy is a (com)patriot, 70
therefore without bravery
how would i take arms against him?
And Troy is the homeland.
So there is no hope
of revenge. 75
Fortune is my enemy,
against it I aim
to take arms.
I can see no other way
greater from it 80
to take revenge,
than to hone my weapons,
and turn them against her,
and line up.
Ergo I want knowledge as a sword 85
belted to my waist,
as well as prudence.
Patience as a spear,
so it is wished by the terms
of my proper reasoning. 90
And indifference,
I shall hold as my guard
henceforth perennial.
And across my chest as shield
I shall hold a golden hope, 95
that there’s another one like her.