On the Literature of Zülfü Livaneli (Viví Georgantopoulou, Komotini)

Opening speech delivered by Viví Georgantopoulou on 7 December 2024 at the Amphitheatre of the Papanikolaou Foundation in Komotini, during the Symposium “History, Space and Time in Literature.”

Dear friends, my dear companions with whom I have travelled together through reading clubs in the boundless world of books, I warmly greet you all this evening at our 3rd Panhellenic Reading Clubs Gathering. It is with great joy that we are holding this year's gathering in Komotini. We are delighted to be here, hosted by the Komotini Reading Club and guided by the tireless energy of Rena Samara-Maina, coordinator of the Komotini Reading Club.

For three consecutive years we have raised the bar ever higher, because, beyond the realisation of such a magnificent organisation, we have with us two doyen writers who have left their mark with their works and whom we will address within a thematic framework that is extremely meaningful, challenging and bold in terms of the conditions of our age and of international interactions. This year, within the framework of our theme, from the reader's point of view and through the not-always-transparent prism of space and time in literary narration, we will explore the relationship between History and Literature and try to understand how human subjects, individually and collectively, take part in this process; for the writer, transforming them into different characters, first shapes them in a textual environment and then delivers them into the reader's hands as they are — as siblings born of the same source, of the great and continuous flow of humanity — so that the reader may find them compelling, gain knowledge, “awaken,” and perhaps even see History and Literature as they truly are.

During this two-day event, a Greek writer is with us who examines history in depth and studies with a keen eye those aspects of that history which unite the two peoples yet at times bitterly divide them: the magnificent Thomas Korovinis. Likewise, a Turkish writer who adopts a similar approach with the sweetness, depth and peace-loving understanding of his thoughtful pen is also with us: the great Zülfü Livaneli. Both, as friends of one another and fellow travellers fighting on the side of “the Good and the Beautiful,” are defenders of historical truths — their own realities and those of others — in both their words and their deeds. Through their art, they are bearers of precious insights into the peaceful and reconciled coexistence of our peoples and of all people in general. In a world shaken by a thousand troubles, what could be more beautiful and hopeful than this?

As the speakers on the first day's panel — Katerina Malakate from the Booktalks Reading Club, myself online, and Vasilis Vourloumis from the Degas / Book Travellers / Kedros Library Reading Clubs present in person — we have the joy of inviting you on a journey into the literary works of the great writer Zülfü Livaneli. You know him, of course, from his musical collaborations with Mikis Theodorakis, and you love his talent as a composer for his immense contributions to music. But this evening is a very special occasion, because this time we greet him in his capacity as a writer. The vehicle of this reading journey is his novel Kaplanın Sırtında (On the Tiger's Back), with its seemingly calm narrative tones but, in reality, a profound truth, beauty, intellectual intensity and questioning. This literary masterpiece was carefully translated into our language by Frango Karaoglan for Patakis Publications.

There is far too little I could say about Zülfü Livaneli. His biography is rich and impressive: musician, writer, poet, and at the same time a politician who did not shy away from defending democracy and freedom in dark times. He was imprisoned many times, forced to leave his country and lived in exile. Yet when he returned home, he came back with baggage full of significant artistic achievements, great collaborations and international connections. Even so, he was never content with these accomplishments. With a universal understanding, he continued to defend and keep his ideas alive through beautiful and peaceful cultural and political activity.

Dear friends, you can find comprehensive information about Zülfü Livaneli's musician and politician sides even on Wikipedia. For this reason I will not dwell on these subjects in detail and tire you. For if the information about such a great and active artist were not to be extensive, then about whom would it be?

With your permission, I would like to focus, however briefly, on Zülfü Livaneli's rich literary works and voice his mastery in this field. Among the many things I could say, I will bring especially to the fore the following virtues of his writing: the moral depth of his subjects, the intensity of his language, the clarity of his construction, and the generally high aesthetic value of his prose. Zülfü Livaneli has written 21 structurally flawless novels. Eleven of these have been published in Greek and have, quite rightly, become very popular.

Livaneli's subjects are both local and universal; they are treated with a perspective that is at once particular to the Mediterranean and broader, on a European and world scale. This universal approach coincides with the unifying meaning that Goethe gave to the term “Weltliteratur” (World literature) in 1827; it is purified of narrow nationalisms and of false patriotic slogans.

Livaneli's themes are nourished by the history of the neighbouring country (Turkey) and of a broad geography. But he does not merely treat them within a historical-political framework; he also delicately works through the sufferings and struggles of heroes and characters who are familiar to us as well. Even when these heroes deal with subjects that may not appear historical-political, Livaneli skilfully places them within a historical time frame through his deep historical research and his clear, human-focused perspective. He uses this historical/chronological time like a dense woven fabric, and upon it he successfully creates the structure, the fiction and the storytelling built above it.

The critic Vangelis Hatzivasileiou states most accurately the following about the book Kaplanın Sırtında (On the Tiger's Back), which we too will examine today: ‘This work is a historical novel based on comprehensive research, purified from the very outset of ideological distortions and of national, racial and cultural prejudices.'

In general, Livaneli — please allow me to put it simply — is a writer who does not mince his words. He is not afraid to speak about the subjects he takes up, disturbing to the centres of power, with a sharp and at the same time distinctly evident sensitivity. In his book Balıkçı ve Oğlu (The Fisherman and His Son) (translated by Frango Karaoglan, Patakis Publications), for instance, he lays bare the ecological greed that relentlessly strikes the Aegean. Meanwhile its shores are struck by the corpses and torn bodies of refugees fleeing wars and seeking a chance at a better life.

In his work Konstantiniyye Oteli (Hotel Constantinople) (in the excellent translation of Niki Stavridi), he courageously touches upon the current problems of beloved Istanbul, the queen of cities for Turks and Greeks alike. One of our invited writers, Thomas Korovinis, writes inspiringly in his review in Anagnostis magazine that Livaneli renders Istanbul's identity ‘with a plentifully ironic tone, humour, political foresight, high social sensitivity, sharp thought, an understanding that emphasises the necessity of social justice, detailed knowledge of the class structure of Turkish society, and an ideological stance that resolutely rejects and criticises prejudice, religious bigotry and intolerance.'

And in his book Serenad (Serenade) (translated by Athanasios Zaragalis), which Livaneli penned so cleverly and creatively, would we not say that he achieves the same success through a bittersweet love story that seems simple on the surface? Upon a historical canvas placed implicitly yet completely and masterfully worked into the background, choosing his words one by one and weaving them with an unbreakable thread, does he not recount the tragic sinking of the ship Struma, abandoned to its fate in the Bosphorus with its 768 Jewish passengers?

Moreover, he does this with that distinctive calm yet at the same time sharp style of his, also working through smaller-scale stories drawn rationally and boldly from that insatiable grinder of world history.

And again, in another wonderful work of Livaneli's, the highly popular Leyla'nın Evi (Leyla's House), translated by Frango Karaoglan, does he not recount — with the same courage, clarity and honesty, and with an endless devotion to the idea of the peaceful coexistence of those who, beyond cultural or other differences, respect one another, empathise, and ultimately accept their neighbour as a human being — the very things that all of us ought to embrace as our universal ideals?

Dear friends, there is much I ought to say about our esteemed guest. But I bring this opening speech to a close here; what I have said for the artist and human being Zülfü Livaneli is of course too little. For this reason I ask for your forgiveness, and above all I take refuge in his own tolerance. I would like to leave the floor to him, so that you may come to know him more closely in his own words and may converse with him about these extremely important, multifaceted works he has generously offered for years.

My most sincere thanks to you all.

• Member of the Coordination Board of the Panhellenic Reading Clubs
• Coordinator of the Athens Degas, Book Travellers and Kedros Library Reading Clubs

Viví Georgantopoulou

Questions asked at the event:

Questions:

1. In the book, we see the transformation Dr. Atıf undergoes after his contact with Abdülhamit. Do you think this transformation is justified?
2. Thanks to this book, we once again notice the West's interventionist attitude toward the Balkans and the Middle East. When you decided to engage with Abdülhamit, was this also one of your aims?
3. In one of your interviews, given your dual identity as writer and musician, you stated — contrary to what most of us think — that the universal language is not music but literature. Could you explain this in a way that we ordinary readers can understand?
4. History is often instrumentalised by the state mechanism. So, can literature be a bridge of communication between peoples?
5. You have a gift in three branches of art — music, cinema and books — and you have had the opportunity to express yourself through them. Of these three, which is closest to you, to your own truth and your soul?
6. How does a person of literature approach history, even oral history, and how does a historian evaluate literature?

In one of your interviews, you said that the West is afraid of the concept of class, and that for this reason it has set forth the fashion of identity-based thinking through sexual, cultural and national distinctions instead of class antagonisms. Especially in America, how much risk do writers such as Harper Lee or Margaret Atwood carry of being affected by extreme woke movements?