Reading Greece: A Day Dedicated to Poet Manolis Anagnostakis at the University of Geneva

On the occasion of the centenary of the birth of Manolis Anagnostakis, a symposium organized by the Department of Modern Greek Studies of the University of Geneva, in cooperation with the Circle of Friends of the Poet Manolis Anagnostakis, with the support of the Consulate General of Greece in Geneva, aims to shed light to the multi-faceted work of the great Greek poet.

Reading Greece spoke to the symposium’s organizers, Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni (University of Geneva) and Thalia Ieronymaki (Circle of Friends of the Poet Manolis Anagnostakis)*, about the scope of the symposium, the various lectures that aim to contribute to a renewed understanding of Anagnostakis’s poetic vision, also discussing the way his moral and intellectual stance may speak to our present-day cultural and political realities, and the role that such events play in recontextualizing modern Greek poetry within global literary studies.

On the occasion of the centenary of the birth of Manolis Anagnostakis, you have organized a day dedicated to the poet, including, among others lectures and poetic readings by keynote speakers. Tell us few things about the conference.

Thalia Ieronymaki: The year 2025 marks multiple anniversaries related to Anagnostakis: one hundred years since his birth, twenty years since his death, and eighty years since the publication of his first poetry collection, Epohes [Seasons]. Several institutions, either in collaboration with the Circle of Friends of the Poet Manolis Anagnostakis or independently, have organized in Greece a series of events honoring and commemorating the poet. Abroad, however, no comparable systematic initiatives have been undertaken. We therefore regarded the organization of this symposium in Geneva—by the Department of Modern Greek Studies, with the support of the Hellenic Ministry of Foreign Affairs through the Consulate General of Greece in Geneva, and in cooperation with the Circle of Friends of the poet—as both an opportunity and a challenge: an opportunity to present in Switzerland the work of a poet who does not belong to the group of Greek writers widely known beyond the country’s borders (such as Cavafy, Kazantzakis, Seferis, and Elytis).

For many years now, his work has been translated into French in its entirety, a fact that enables us to engage with it before a Francophone audience. It was a challenge to address as many aspects as possible of his oeuvre and personality – his poetic, critical, satirical, and essayistic dimensions – while maintaining a scholarly approach and at the same time opening it up to a wider public. Our aim is to find ways to speak to a mixed audience: Greek- and French-speaking, academic and non-academic, young students and older participants alike. For this reason, we have chosen, both our invited speakers and ourselves, to present the various aspects of Anagnostakis’s work rather than confine ourselves to a single one (for example, his poetry).

Another dimension of his work, the setting of his poetry to music, will also be represented through our choice to include performances of his poems that have been set to music, primarily by Mikis Theodorakis, since 2025 has also been officially designated as the “Year of Theodorakis”. In this way, we broaden the scope of the symposium, also through readings of poems in both Greek and French, with the participation of members of the Théâtre des Grecs à Genève. We further familiarize the audience with Anagnostakis’s own voice (“Anagnostakis reads Anagnostakis”) and present photographic and audio material from his life and work. As the title of the symposium suggests, we will speak, adapting one of the poet’s own verses, of his work “with sounds and words.” Finally, another challenge lay in the collaboration itself, both at the institutional level (between the University and the Circle of Friends) and on a personal level, a collaboration that gives us great joy, for our shared language is the love of poetry – and of Anagnostakis.

Could you elaborate on the decision to conduct the sessions in both French and Greek? How does this multilingual approach influence the exchange of ideas?

Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni: This decision was made after considerable reflection. For better or worse, this dilemma often arises with regard to the various scholarly events organized within our department. The reason is that our audience is a mixed one: on the one hand, young students enrolled in our Bachelor’s program, who do not yet possess the level of Greek required to comfortably follow lectures delivered entirely in the language; and on the other hand, individuals with extensive experience in understanding and using Greek more broadly, as well as members of the Greek community living in Geneva and in Switzerland more generally. These circumstances compel us, each time, to reconsider which audience we wish to address and whether the idea of bringing together such a diverse public is indeed feasible.

To be honest, as a Department of Modern Greek Studies within a University abroad, I consider it our duty to address ourselves first and foremost to those who are learning our language. I feel that the opposite choice would, in effect, distance us from our principal goal: to share with a broader, not-yet-Greek-speaking audience the curiosity to explore the various factors that shape the cultural, intellectual, and scholarly dimensions of Greek identity. In the present case – the symposium devoted to the poetic work of Manolis Anagnostakis – I was, of course, fully aware that most members of our non-Greek-speaking audience were unfamiliar with the poet. Most Greeks, however, know him, at least to some extent. Our aim, therefore, was not simply to organize an event that would expand the knowledge of Greek speakers living abroad, but rather to introduce to a wider public this remarkable poet of the postwar generation, whose work we consider profoundly relevant to many of the pressing concerns of contemporary Europe and the wider world: the lingering echoes of war, the notion of personal and collective freedom, the individual’s place within the global fabric, the significance of silence, the multilayered nature of time, the re-examination of the past, and the role of memory, among others.

Thus, we decided that the three morning presentations would be delivered in French—this being the time zone usually attended by students, colleagues, and regular participants in our courses. At a second stage, in the early afternoon, we scheduled two presentations in Greek by our invited speakers, Angela Gioti and Eleni Katsaveli, who would also introduce the next part of the program: a series of readings of Anagnostakis’s poems by Dimitris Dimitriadis and Ioanna Berthoud-Papandropoulou. These readings, presented in both Greek and French, were planned for the afternoon, when a larger audience would be available to attend such an event.

At that point, we move slightly away from the strictly scholarly dimension and wish to “play” with the impressions produced on an audience that is currently learning Greek – or that does not yet know the language – when listening to a series of poems in Greek, while simultaneously experiencing the ease of comprehension afforded by their translation into French. As for the fully Greek-speaking members of the audience attending this part of the event, they are able, on the one hand, to engage directly with Anagnostakis’s poetic language in its original form and, on the other, to sense the poetic effect that emerges when these verses are transposed into another language, in this case, French.

Concepts such as silence, time, and night appear recurrently in the conference. What do these motifs reveal about his poetic ontology or aesthetics? And, in turn, how may the various lectures may contribute to a renewed understanding of Anagnostakis’s poetic vision?

Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni: Silence, time, and night are three motifs that do not function in exactly the same way within Anagnostakis’s poetic work. One could think of them as elements belonging to the same equation – related, yet neither equivalent nor identical. Silence and night resemble each other more closely, in that each, in its own manner, represents the condition within which time is activated, unfolds, or diffuses. The poetic subject cherishes silence, seeks it, respects it, without conceiving of it as something negative. It knows that silence is sometimes what most powerfully reveals the depth of an emotion, precisely at the point where words may fail to reach. In Anagnostakis’s poetry, silence and night often interact: many times, when there is silence, it is night. At other times, night, with its slow hours, creates the ideal setting for the poet to fall silent: a fertile silence, one that is “not only” a repository of static memory but, above all, a space of reflection, of active memory that touches the past in order to enchant it.

It is at this point that time enters the equation; time which already exists within the poet’s experience, thought, and sensibility. It is a time that seeks to evolve into something ever more qualitative, carrying with it knowledge and understanding of the human condition: of errors, losses, but also of great moments. In Anagnostakis’s work, time does not function as a locus of historical memory. The poet employs each historical moment as a point of departure. What truly interests him, in essence, is the way in which the time of memory will process the historical form or pretext so as to yield a healthier present and future, both for the individual and for society as a whole.

Τhalia Ieronymaki: Therefore, although Anagnostakis’s work has been studied extensively, each new approach has the potential to reveal previously overlooked aspects or to shed new light on issues that are already familiar. Many themes and motifs, such as silence and the notion of time, have been examined, yet more systematic approaches are still lacking, particularly those employing new theoretical tools that can illuminate additional dimensions of his work beyond, or in conjunction with, the political aspects of these motifs.

Anagnostakis is often seen as both a poet and a critic of his times. How do you balance these two dimensions in the conference? More generally, in what ways does Anagnostakis’ work lend itself to interdisciplinary study—between literature, philosophy, and cultural criticism?

Thalia Ieronymaki: As mentioned earlier, at the symposium we ensured that the presentations would cover multiple facets of Anagnostakis’s poetic work and intellectual presence. This criterion guided the selection of our invited speakers, all of whom have engaged with his work -both specific aspects of it and the broader context within which it is situated. The decision to highlight his poetry and criticism, his philosophical reflection and satire, his political and cultural activity, as well as fundamental thematic motifs such as the notions of time and silence, was inevitable, determined by the work itself and by his multifaceted personality.

Even before emerging as a poet, he had begun publishing critical texts in the student magazine Xekínima. His engagement with literary criticism continued until the final years of his life. His public interventions, political positions, and involvement in civic life, along with his writings on the role and place of literature and art within the historical realities of his time and place, and his critical assessments of numerous texts and figures of the twentieth century, constitute the complementary dimension of his poetry. In his poetry, on the other hand, alongside existential reflection, a political stance is also expressed, not in a party-aligned, propagandistic sense, but in a fundamentally political sense: a refusal of defeat, individual and collective resistance, and a direct critique of prevailing social attitudes, political practices, and even of poetry itself, including its role and reception.

In fact, long before the era of interdisciplinary approaches, Anagnostakis himself had already fulfilled this interdisciplinarity within his work, where his critical reflections illuminate his poetry, and his poetry, in turn, renders his critical positions more eloquent. It should not be forgotten that he was a multifaceted figure who expressed himself not only poetically and critically, but also through essays, aphoristic statements embodying condensed philosophical positions, satire, cultural interventions (particularly through his journalism in the newspaper Avgi), and even the art of collage. His is, therefore, a body of work open to diverse approaches.

What is that makes Anagnostakis’ poetry both timeless and timely? In this respect, how might Anagnostakis’s moral and intellectual stance speak to our present-day cultural and political realities?

Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni: I believe that even the mere echo of the political and social conditions characterizing Anagnostakis’s contemporary era resonates remarkably with a set of circumstances that pertain not only to Greece or Europe, but also to the global sphere. Anagnostakis disliked concepts such as “the poetry of defeat.” He considered that such notions function as slogans, whose purpose is more superficial impressiveness than a call for deeper reflection on contemporary issues. In this regard, I believe he is closely aligned with the interwar poets, who remain poets of an era without a fixed label, or rather, of an era to which various labels have been applied over time, none of which have fully persuaded the broader reading public. They are known as “post-symbolists,” as “poets of decline”, as the “interwar generation”, or as the “generation of the 1920s”, and in the end they are all of these and much more. This fact demonstrates the remarkable skill with which they, through their work and criticism, managed to distance themselves from any single literary movement label.

Similarly, Anagnostakis’s poetry is situated, of course, within specific chronological frameworks that could easily have earned it a variety of partisan or otherwise labeled titles. Yet the poet himself refuses to play this game, a wise and profoundly thoughtful choice that distances him from the trap of the ephemeral and connects his work to a more timeless perspective on the world. This does not mean that Anagnostakis disowns his era; on the contrary, he constructs an entire poetic universe within which he expresses the echoes of a series of political and social conditions that shape it, fully aware, however, that these conditions constitute merely the canvas of an era. He is concerned with how individuals, and by extension collectives, can engage retrospectively (in their present) with their recent or more distant pasts not to glorify or condemn them, nor, of course, to deny their present, but to study, to gain the capacity to reflect repeatedly on the conditions – internal or external, collective or individual – that shaped it as it actually was.

Within this framework, Anagnostakis invents a concept of silence whose nature does not concern the superficial absence of speech, but rather establishes a perfect environment for reflection; a fertile space for revisiting and re-experiencing emotions, experiences, and moments that confronted him and his contemporaries with difficult truths, betrayals, and, at times, approvals. What mattered to Anagnostakis was what renders memory an active agent in the redefinition of individual and collective identity. He was never a man to place himself behind any label. Consequently, his ethical and intellectual stance at any given moment does not concern the specific cultural and political realities of our time through what allows us to recognize, in both his era and ours, the features of a crisis. Rather, in the broader context of a crisis of social and political identity – which pertains to any era, certainly including our own – Anagnostakis reminds us that what truly matters is not merely the surface difficulty of experience, but having the courage to confront each demanding experience that arises (as individuals and as a collective), to study how we arrived there, how each circumstance came about, where we misstepped, and, to put it plainly, what we failed to consider, and so forth.

In this way, we maintain memory as an essentially active force and succeed in assuming a more engaged role in the writing of our individual and collective history (and of History itself). This courage may be the most significant element that Anagnostakis’s poetic work conveys to today’s generation: the understanding that stepping outside the norm is not necessarily a problem. It is an element of change and development. Within this framework, it is not the moral or emotional charge of experience that endures in History, but the manner in which the individual retrospectively engages with that experience, thereby creating a healthier present and future.

What are the major challenges in interpreting Anagnostakis’ poetry for non-Greek audiences while preserving its philosophical and emotional depth

Thalia Ieronymaki: In the poem “When I Said Farewell…” he writes: “How can I explain more simply what Elias was / Claire, Raoul, Egypt Street / May 3rd, tram number 8, the ‘Alkinoi’ / George’s house, the sanitarium”. It is not easy to explain names and toponyms to a non-Greek-speaking audience; they are “things that are not said—cannot be explained” (YG. [P.S.]). A similar difficulty exists, however, for a contemporary Greek-speaking audience, which is now more than half a century removed from the period when the poems were written. Such obstacles, however, do not prevent either audience from entering into the meaning and understanding Anagnostakis’s poetry. The reason is that it is immediate poetry. Its simplicity and sincerity seize the reader from the outset. Subsequent readings reveal its multiple layers of meaning. Moreover, both the themes of his poetry – struggle and resistance, refusal of defeat, human depth and existential anxiety, silence, and above all, love (he stated in an interview, “Personally, I don’t think I am a political poet. I am both erotic and political”) – and the way he treats them, with lyricism and irony, as well as the communicative structure of his poetry (conversational tone, dialogue and direct addresses, orality), form the basis for understanding and love by readers, regardless of the language they speak. Of course, there will always remain “so many other things hidden deep down…” and these constitute the enduring charm of his poetry.

What role do you believe events like this play in recontextualizing modern Greek poetry within global literary studies?

Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni: Even before reaching contemporary Greek poetry – more broadly, contemporary poetry in general – I would say that today the position of literature, and of philosophy departments more broadly, is often questioned in discussions concerning important decisions, frequently at the level of university budgets worldwide. To put it simply: in the contemporary context of rapid technological development, philosophy departments are often snubbed, considered passé, or viewed as spaces that cannot guarantee immediate, future employment; or, worse, as spaces that are incompatible with the speed demanded by the dominance of the modern technological lifestyle. At this point, I believe something fundamental has escaped attention. Literature, and poetry in particular, provides a canvas that knows very well how to slow down the pace of things; not, of course, to halt progress, but to deepen it. A book, a story, a novel, or a poem offers us the absolute opportunity to immerse ourselves in an imaginative framework, external to our present reality, in the depths of which we encounter details, factors, and key elements through which we can rework the conditions that pertain to our own reality. Contemporary or not, poetry serves as an antidote to the manic tendency of modern humans to chase the staggering achievements of technology, an antidote more in the sense of a counterbalance. The discussion should not concern who or what will ultimately prevail, but how each future development of humanity can exist in balance.

If we add the term “Greek” to the equation – that is, contemporary Greek poetry – we automatically create a channel of communication with a set of historical and literary conditions that frame the identity of a work. And if, in such an encounter, we are able to distance ourselves, even minimally, from various slogans and labels, as Anagnostakis himself would have advised, we can achieve a favorable outcome in which elements of contemporary Greek poetry deepen consciousness, sensibilities, perceptions, and critical faculties. They contribute to a more to-the-point engagement with the everyday events that shape both contemporary individual and collective identity. At this point, we can also note that societies such as the Swiss, which have historically maintained a position of neutrality, through a corresponding exposure to contemporary Greek poetry, have the opportunity to engage more deeply with conditions that are not part of their own cultural identity. In doing so, they generate a new emotional resonance and render the entire experience of this engagement both unprecedented and profoundly fruitful.

Recently, in one of the Greek literature courses I am teaching this year focused on Mythistorema by Giorgos Seferis, a student enrolled in the comparative literature program at the university repeatedly emphasized how impressed she was by the course, and to what extent its content distinguished it from all others, which she found, in her eyes, irritably repetitive and conventional. Beyond the teaching approach itself, I found it particularly interesting that this student also commented on the content of the poem, which seems to offer a literary landscape distinct from others. This observation is, of course, not nationalistic in character. However, it empirically demonstrates how contemporary Greek poetry, especially poetry from the interwar period onward, traverses the present, guiding lived experience by the hand, transforming experience into art, and consistently reminding us that literature does not represent an identity separate from the human condition and identity. Literature provides a field within which one can find a range of tools for the (re)invention of individual and collective identities. All of this is achieved through storytelling, narration, imagination, experience, description, and the self-directed organization of the elements that render each story active.

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Valia Tsaita-Tsilimeni was born in Thessaloniki. She is a Chargée des cours and teaches literature, language, and translation at the University of Geneva, where she also completed her doctoral dissertation. She obtained her Master’s degree (Master II) from the Sorbonne University in Paris (Paris-Sorbonne IV) and her undergraduate degree from the Department of Philology (Modern and Medieval Greek Studies) at the School of Philosophy of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. Beyond her academic work, she is involved in poetry, translation, and photography. Her first poetry collection, titled Wild Grass, was published by Kichli Editions in July 2017.

Τhalia Ieronymaki studied Philology at the University of Crete and continued her postgraduate studies in Modern Greek and Comparative Literature at the Department of Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies of the University of Cyprus, where she also obtained her PhD in Modern Greek Literature. She has taught in secondary education and at the University of Bucharest. She is currently a member of the Laboratory Teaching Staff (E.DI.P.) in Modern Greek Literature at the University of Patras.

*Interview by Athina Rossoglou

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