Right now I am just so darn busy with preparing for the 25th anniversary celebration (Sep 9) of the organization whose local branch I cofounded. It has special meaning because last year we narrowly averted being disbanded--- members unwilling to assume leadership positions. But I consider the branch my baby and was not willing to fold up the tent. We ARE going forward - after a resounding vote of confidence. I assure you that I will be with you in the forthcoming discussion.

Though I would like to (and should perhaps) explain why this is so important to me, I could not possibly use this forum to do so. After all, we are about (Captain) Corelli's Mandolin, not about me. But thank you for asking.

Lorrie, I had not heard of Louis de Bernieres (wish I could add the appropriate accent) until C.M. and have read nothing else by him since. Yet I continue to wonder about the author's background - beyond what has been available from the publisher.

Lorrie: the humor is inescapable as we learn that Cephalonian water, as well as their wine, light and sailors are  the best!  What a proud heritage.  Velisarios exclaims in a rebutall to Velsaris:  "May you have female children and male sheep for saying ...."  That cracked me up!  How about this one?  "Aleko so unacdcostomed to human company that he was short of words even in his inner speech."   LOL

Meg, your #43 and 54 are great. Specifically re # 43, please elaborate on the question of Italian names (first names, I take it).

Indeed, Corelli does not make his physical appearance in the book until chapter 24. Everything else is a very long prologue of sorts, but necessary.

In an earlier post, Jonathan had mentioned the author's style . While and as we read, could we please pause once in a while to ponder the style, and the different voices in which the tale is told, admirably, all of them, of course, the author's own. I believe we also should not lose sight of the irony, the sarcasm, the bitterness.

While I am not the nosy type, I really would like to know where the author's own loyalties lie, and how he came by them. He is too young (born in 1954) to have personal experience of WWII or anything that preceded it. His name is French, but we read in the sparse introductory write-up that "After four disastrous months in the British army, he left for a village in Colombia --- etc." What if anything could be inferred from those few words ?

deB has created a vast tableau : the novel can be read on several levels, and while it IS difficult to penetrate initially, its richness unfolds rather spectacularly before the patient reader's eyes. Just consider the author's medical/pharmacological and musical knowledge, not to mention the historical data given (a bit subjectively on occasion), and THEN let's speculate what metaphorical meaning the author may have intended.

I have said from the outset that this is an important book, one that has touched me because I lived in Europe in the time deB describes. However, I have never said that I LOVED the book -- that is something I don't do, certainly not at the beginning of a discussion, when everything is in flux and nothing has had a chance to "gel" yet.

And while we consider the question of style, as we go on reading, could we also ponder what the author's theme might be ? The senselessness of war, perhaps ? Human weakness and quiet triumphs ? Survival in extreme conditions ? Extending a hand to a perceived enemy and finding grace ?

I am referring to the scenes on the square where the Italian occupier and the German lieutenant, representing the second occupying contingent (they were axis parnters, remember), were assembled on one side, and hesitant but curious female island villagers on the other. Those who saw he movie may remember that, before the dancing slowly got underway, the occupying soldiers stood at attention while a military march was played. The Greeks looked puzzled.

That march was in fact, as I realized with a jolt, the 'second' Italian anthem, added to the original national anthem under the fascists; it became a ritual and the obligatory opener at each and every conceivable opportunity. The first words were "Giovinezza, giovinezza, primavera di bellezza" (youth, youth, springtime of beauty). As the moviegoers may recall, the hesitant fraternization efforts in the movie did not begin until AFTER the "Giovinezza" ritual had been performed !

Thank you, Lorrie

Jonathan, I agree with you wholeheartedly on the need to just plow on; and not look up each and every word right then and there. It is too distracting and time-consuming; one might get lost in the process. As for prelapsarian, the word is not in my trusted big Random House (1966) either. But the eminent Canadian novelist and playwright Robertson Davies was very fond of it. I encountered it first in Fifth Business, , the first volume of The Deptford Trilogy , and in susequent books by him. I made it my business to find out what it means, and it is quite simple : pre = before and lapsarian from lapse, something dating back to times immemorial. deB writes on pag 6 of the "colors in their original prelapsarian state", and that explains it. BTW, have you noticed that deB is fond of the word "pellucid" ?

I had no idea that de Bernieres is a pseudonym. Thank you, Jonathan, for this valuable information.

Oh my God I have to dash.

Yes indeed, Ginny, lapse is derived from the Latin lapsus.

To get back to the beginning : chapter 1 is straight narrative. Chapter 2 is a very cleverly imagined, sardonic half monologue, half dialogue between Mussolini and others, whose utterances are not heard but conveyed in il Duce's (the Duce's) continued rambling. "Duce" is derived from he Latin dux, ducis.

Chapters 1 and 2 are important because they set the scene, point to the existing conflicts and presage the coming horror; every word counts. I find it rather surprising that the author throws out first and/or last names so casually, expecting the reader to know instantly who that person is and what role he/she plays. After 5 decades, how can he be so sure of that ???

In historical novels it is always a bit difficult to distinguish between what can be considered as fact and what is the author's addition/embellishment. And, as we well know, even the facts can be subject to "spin", depending on which side is relating any given story or event. May I further identify some of the names which Meg has compiled into a list, and thank you for that, Meg !

Mussolini had 5 children with the long-suffering Donna Rachele ("Donna" being a sign of distinction, not a name). The eldest daughter, Edda, wed Count Galeazzo Ciano, a dashing nobleman, who was Minister of Foreign Affairs for a time but unwilling to make Italy totally subservient to Germany. He was relieved of his post and made ambassador to the Vatican. In January of 1944 he was captured by the Germans and executed by Italian partisans.

Clara Petacci (known as Claretta by the people) was the Duce's mistress. He had a coin minted with her profile (can't remember the denomination). In April of 1945 (when the game was up), Mussolini and Clara tried to escape to Switzerland but were captured not far from the frontier, near Lake Como, by Italian partisans, executed, and hung upside down. The shocking picture was printed in the newspapers, and I saw it.

to be continued

Running throughout the novel is a Homeric theme. Cephalus, after whom the island was named, was a forebear of Odysseus (with some dispute over whether Odysseus's home was the nearby isle of Ithaca or Cephallonia). Certainly the wanderings of Mandras in his first flight from home resemble the voyages of Odysseus. He's even seduced by an old hag called Circe in a poetic narration that seems to be a little bit too literary to have come from such an illiterate man, but we can forgive Bernieres for writing too well. It is very possible that Mandras could have had such a literary education even if he cannot read: no doubt his dreams are inspired by half forgotten tales from Cephallonia's oral culture. Mandras even has a Penelope waiting for him in the form of Pelagia, and Mandras's boss in ELAS takes the pseudonym of 'Hector' from Homer. But Bernieres is never completely true to the fabled myths, for he has own torturous trail to weave. Father Arsenios is a joy to behold as he turns from being a drunk and the worst priest Cephallonia has ever had, into a prophet who startles the occupying forces by quoting the psalms at them. Even if you think you know your history, the events on Cephallonia will still come as a big shock to you too.

Mal, it is good to have you with us here. Welcome Nellie. Indeed, Pelagia's unraveling of the bedspread-to-be is eerily reminiscent of Penelope's handiwork, done for different reasons. I doubt Pelagia is conscious of WHY she is doing it; but Penelope did her unraveling on purpose, to keep the suitors at bay.

The homeric allusions are unmistakeable, but we ought to be prepared for perceptual shifts; deB applies his own twists to the legendary Greek figures.

Mal, your musical heart will be delighted by Corelli's Mandolin feats ! This is not remotely anything like "O sole mio" or "Funicoli funicola".

Lorrie, I quite agree with you. Metaxas was a well-intentioned man who loved Greece and was not out for his own interest, totally unlike the megalomaniacal Mussolini; Metaxas is ultimately a tragic figure.

Not unlike Grazzi, the Italian Ambassador in Athens, who was duped, lied to, kept in the dark, and then forced to deliver that fatal ultimatum to Prime Minister Metaxas. The latter, to his infinite credit, turned it down; and thus began the Greco-Italian war and the Italian invasion. I hope to be permitted to say here what has already been pictorially shown in the links : that the effort failed miserably and rather quickly; the Italians were driven back into Albania.

Chapter 14 represents, I think, a rueful soliloquy by Grazzi, not addressed to anyone in particular, but rather an attempt to reconstruct how it all happened, how he was forced by the vainglorious Duce to play the role of the villain, as laid out in the body of chapter 14. He had reassured his anxious Greek friends, in good faith and with a clear conscience, not knowing himself what treachery was planned in Rome--- until the evening of the late-night reception and party, when the telegraphic orders began arriving from Rome and he, the highest diplomatic representative of his country, Italy, went in person to the home of the dying Metaxas to hand-deliver the fatal ultimatum (quoted in he novel), which was, in practical terms, a declaration of war. It is hardly surprising that he felt "diminished and ashamed", ashamed for himself and his country, personally embarrassed, mentally and emotionally drained, in short - exhausted. And that's why and how the chapter ended. There was simply nothing left to say.

As I see it, each and every chapter is a story in itself, and such is the skill of deB that he carries the plot forward, events mesh and are paralleled, reflected in the eyes of different characters and protagonists, which produces a multi-faceted picture of increasing sharpness. And it is all the creation of a single mind ! Imagine it !

Meg, I will have to get back to your questions about Italian names and their translations, and I am in the process of doing so now. Patience, or pazienza, as they say in Italian.

BTW Mal, I thought everybody knew what 'basta basta' means, what with all those Italians in this country !! Remember the North End of Boston ?

Back later

On translating names : not all names are translatable, or traceable to a recognizable etymological root. And that applies to both first and last names. The last name "Rivolta" is fairly easy, but I have to go into Italian grammar to explain. The first name "Gaetano" has no English equivalent.

Let me get to Curzio Malaparte, that may be of interest. First we need to know that the appellation of "idiotic snob with the ironic and twisted sense of humour" is Grazzi's in chapter 14. Malaparte was an Italian writer born in 1898. Curzio Malaparte was his pen name and is easy to translate. Curzio = Curt; Malaparte as you suggested. The writer contrasted his name with that of Napoleon; the latter was born in 1769 as Napoleone Buonaparte in Ajaccio on the island of Corsica. He later dropped the "e" of his first and the "u" of his last name and became Napoleon Bonaparte.

I don't know whether Malaparte was a snob or not, or what sort of a man he was, other than that he effectively cast his lot alternately with the forces of fascism and democracy. He was an articulate writer. He wrote Kaputt (1944), which is an account of his experiences wih Hitler's army during the Russian campaign, and La Pelle (The Skin) in 1949 : It is a description of his activity as a liaison officer with the U.S. Fifth Army in post-war Naples with some quite horrendous scenes.

More to come.

"Thus the Greek fascismo was born. Metaxas, declared admiring of Nazi Germany, created in just a short time a Greek version of the Third Reich. The Greek fascismo - rather we would say nacionalsocialismo, because the regime of Metaxas looked more like the Hitler Germany than to Italy mussoliniana-had the endorsement of ultranationalist groups like the anti-semite Ethniki Enosis. (EEE, Greek National Union), the Greek Nazi Party of George Merkouri or the Sidera Irini."

Weeks ago I pointed out that this book requires patience, that it is clearly not to everyone's taste, and that some of the scatological references did not sit too well with me. But that does not deter from the intrinsic value of this book as a whole.

I realize I haven't taken up some points raised by Jonathan. I am sorry. Without giving anything away, I agree with him that there is Rabalaisian humor in this book, and also satire and irony. Also I agree with him that we should go on reading without stopping at each word to puzzle over meaning. There is so much more to come ! Corelli does not appear until chapter 24, after all. This is just a very long preparation for his arrival.

Pelagia was headstrong and wilful. She had unusual intelligence, was brought up by a single father in a way, one surmises, he would have brought up a son, and she certainly was temperamental.

As for Mandras, I have no idea whether the author intended him to be modern day Odysseus. We might read the whole story and THEN decide.

(An aside, Marilyn, I have lived in Massachusetts since 1974 and am quite familar with the Boston accent. Interesting to hear from you that there was a prejudice against Italians as you were growing up; akin perhaps to the infamous "No Irish Need Apply" ?? To them, Boston was not exactly a welcoming place. I still have trouble fully grasping the notion of, the reason for the continued existence, and the intense racial tension between the tight separate ethnic communities within the city of Boston. But I digress, this is not what are here to discuss.)

Lorrie, please, I don't mean to usurp any leadership here. I just wanted to contribute what I know from personal experience, my limited and subjective perspective at the time and in retrospect to the best of my ability.

And yes, Lorrie, only men were allowed in the coffeehouse. And the women abided by the unwritten rule without question -- I say, more power to Pelagia for ignoring the taboo to enter the men's inner sanctum in a moment of crisis. That took guts.

More later.

Corelli makes his actual appearance on the "stage" of the book in chapter 24.

As for the question of the dowry, I think it bothered Mandras less than it did Pelagia, at least in the beginning, because it went so totally against the expected custom and she feared she would be derided by everyone.

They were just kids, attracted to each other. I believe Mandras did not feel, at first, in the beginning of the courtship, that he was "inferior" to Pelagia - that realization came later. He liked what he was doing, fishing and frolicking with the dolphins, bringing Pelagia fish fresh from the ocean and generally clowning around.

Her letters to him at the front (Chapter 16) are eloquent and reveal quite a few things.

Re "puttees" : a puttee is a long strip of cloth, wrapped spirally around the leg from ankle to knee; puttees were once worn by soldiers, ostensibly as protection. On page 101, Carlo says that he hates them, has difficulty putting them on just so, and has never understood their purpose.

Greek myth The book is a huge success, now there's to be a film. But in Cephalonia, where Captain Corelli's Mandolin is set, veterans feel their campaign against the Nazis has been defamed. None more so than the real Captain Corelli.

dcdevine@yahoo.com from GLASGOW UK , 9 June, 2001

This book seeks to investigate human nature, and mainly platonic forms of love: love for a place, a homeland, an ideal, a polictical ideal, for a daughter, for commonplace animals, for the enemy, homosexual love, love of fellow man, love for an object (a mandolin), love between fathers and daughters, adopted children, mothers and sons, love between enemies and between old men of differing beliefs in a Greek Cafe. Nothing lasts really - earthquakes and wars may come, what survives is like a tune passed on in the memory. All platonic, all unfulfilling, all unrequited - ungrabbable, fleeting and personal ... like music ... ephemeral, emotional, and then gone. For me THAT's what the novel's about - and why the author chose Corelli and the mandolin to be included in the title. This is what strings together all the facets, and if this is not realised, then this book will appear a disjointed and clumsy collection of styles and tales.

Back to Corelli's Mandolin, Welcome to our new readers; it is good to have you here !

Mal, you had asked earlier how the movie people "pulled" the story together. Well, they didn't, not really, for the film deals only with the captain's relatively brief stay on the island and the events at that time, in other words, covering just a few months' time.

As for the Yahoo review from a Glasgow reader, which you reprinted, I am not sure I concur with the poster's opinion, lyrical as it sounds. Not all of the types of love the correspondent describes are necessarily platonic within the meaning of the term.

"Setting up a community and seeing what happens to it when the megalomaniacs get busy: that's my main preoccupation."

When the declining Morning Star (a communist newspaper) panned Corelli's Mandolin for it portrayal of Greek communities, the authhor responded vigorously on the letter page: "How long are you people going to sit in the dark in an air-pocket, working each other off?"

"It's a shame," he had said, "that he was not actually wounded. It would have given him something concrete to concern himself with." (page 149)

What is wrong with Mandras? What has caused his stupor? What has his return meant to him and to Pelagia?

Father Arsenios knelt in his church, attemptinmg to find words to a prayer, preplexed by a novel sensation of having been let down by God. He had become so accustomed to the idea that he was condemned forever to be the one who let down God, that he found himself lost for a formula that was not full of reproaches, and even insults. (Page 146)

Did you find this quote atartling? Insults in prayer? How does the conclusion of this episode mark a turning point in his life?

Is this a turning point in the story?

---

Meg, I can't seem to find the books either but think they were in the section about the trap door, can't find them.

---

The section on the "tapping" concert on the mandolin on page 187 is a hoot, a real delight to read and enjoy.

---

More tomorrow on Death the Perfectionist and Mandras.

ginny

It's an epic, a journal of each ones history as our author records the history of this horrible war thru the eyes of each individual personality.

though I like to keep abreast of questions and comments in this folder as best I can, I now find myself woefully behind, but I would like to take this (sorrowful) time to contribute some thoughts and comments.

Ginny, when Mandras goes off the FIRST time, he takes up arms against the Italians, whose invasion was unsuccessful, at least until the Germans came to their aid, invading Greece from Bulgaria.

And yes, I think a good look at a map of Eastern Europe would make things clearer, at least from the geographical point of view; precisely because this very area, which includes Turkey and the former Yugoslavia, has been contested, fought over in bloody wars for centuries, and remains a tinderbox to this day. Just think of present-day Macedonia. And check again chapter 18 where deB says in the voice of Dr. Iannis :

Greece lies on both a geographical and cultural faultline that separates east from west; we are simultaneously a battleground and a site of cataclysmic earthquakes. ~~~~~~ The Balkans have always been the instruments of the foreign policy of the Great Powers, and have failed since ancient times to reach even a resemblance to advanced civilization because of the natural indolence, fractiousness and brutality of their peoples. It is true to say that Greece has fewer of the Balkan vices than other nations to the north and east, however, and it is also undoubtedly the case that, of all the Greeks, Cephalonians have the greatest reputations as wits and eggheads. ~~~~~ There are occasional deaths due to disputes over property, but we possess little of the bloodlust that is the characeristic defect of neighoring slavic peoples.

And yes, deB tells that story in bits and pieces in a way we may not be used to. Of course antiquity is a HUGE part of it; after all, Greece is the cradle of civilization, and few would quibble with that. Why would the modern reader resent that ?

Personally I think that it is impossible to read, digest and fully appreciate/judge this particular book within a few days . My personal preference is to withhold any kind of summation until the very end, and then allowing additional time for all my impressions to "gel". I believe that is reasonable and only fair when reading and discussing specific assigned segments in a group such as ours.

Regarding an earlier comment re the islanders' trying to avoid thoughts of war : They DID respond to the Italians' invasion (that's when Mandras leaves for the first time); but who can blame anyone for being wary of repeated invasions and subjugation by outsiders who rape the countryside and then leave, only to have this process repeated over and over again ? Who can be blamed for wanting peace at last, serenity, and a normal life (however "normal" is defined), a better life for one's children ?

As for Mandras, he is not the first idealist and patriot to return from whatever engagement scarred and disillusioned. When he left, he was "beautiful, luminous, and young; as exquisite as Apollo" (chapter 13). On his return he was but a shadow of his former self. Yes, Pelagia had become disappointed when he did not answer even one of her eloquent letters (which are another wonderful source of information on what was happening !), became convinced he didn't love her, allowed herself to consider the thought that he might never return ------ was then shocked beyond words when Mandras DID return, and appalled by his dreadful physical condition and even more so when he confessed to having carried her letters over his heart, but was unable to read them. The tragedy of this is palpable.

And no, I don't think the comparison with the mythical legend applies : Penelope waited years on end for the return of Odysseus; Pelagia became distanced from Madras emotionally much sooner.

It bears repeating that this is NOT a nonfiction book reporting historical facts; this is a historical NOVEL. The author's interpretation and reporting of 'facts' are subjective--in other words modulated by HIS opinion. That is, after all, what brought about the recent Greek protests over the author's representation of ELAS in the book. Well, we aren't there yet and perhaps this is all impenetrable for outsiders and proverbially "Greek" to us.

Ginny, I have never questioned deB.'s knowledge of history, but wondered all along where his own loyalties lie; in other words, does he favor any side ? Which one ? The Greeks ? The Italians ? What clues does the author give, if any ? Did you spot remarks about the Americans ?

As I have said from the outset, this novel can be read, and must be understood, on various levels (in layers, in tiers, if you will); and I would say that it must be read carefully, patiently, if we want to get to the core of things. Whether we "like" any of this is really not the point, or is it ?

Translation of names to follow.

il Duce = leader, from the Latin dux, ducis

Clara Petacci, his mistress.

Farinacci : farina = flour, farinacci are flour byproducts

Gaetano and Galeazzo are first names for which there is no English equivalent

Mario is the male form of Maria

DeVecchi : vecchio adj.(m.) sing. = old; an old woman is vecchiA. The plural is vecchi (m.) and vecchie (f.), respectively. DeVecchi = a contraction of dei vecchi = of the old.

Badoglio has no recognizable meaning or derivative, nor does Gericio

Carlo Piero = Carl Peter

Francisco is the Spanish form of Francis. The Italian Francis is FrancEsco. Frances is Francesca in Italian.

Corelli is derived from core = heart.

The Italian phrase in the Duce chapter "vogliamo la pace e non vogliamo la guerra" = 'we want peace not war'.

Galeazzo Ciano, Conte di Cortellazzo, was Minister of Foreign Affairs and the husband of Mussolini's daughter Edda. He did not get along with the Duce, was removed from his position and "pushed off" to become ambassador to the Vatican. Count Ciano was executed in 1944.

and realized that I had omitted Rivolta's name from the list. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa ! The verb is 'rivolgere' and I was going to get into Italian grammar. Never mind. The noun means 'upheaval' - a most appropriate "nomen" for the despicable man described by deB, though I am unsure whether he is in fact a historic figure or a figment of the author's imagination.

Another thought : it seems to me that Carlo's journal, if I may call it that, is revelatory in many ways and may well reflect the author's own opinions. Just look back at chapter 6 and reread the paragraph beginning with

"I am not a cynic, but I do know that history is the propaganda of the victors ------ the ultimate truth is that history ought to consist only of the anecdotes of the lttle people who are caught up in it --"

and chapter 10, "Atrocities are sometimes nothing less than the vengeance of the tormented."

The previous book discussions in which I participated here have been unhurried, thorough and, to judge from my previous experience, unique. Quite a few discussions were extended beyond the anticipated deadline -- simply because the exchanges were continuing, still lively, passionate and pertinent = vivid testimony that the participants had been engaged, touched, inspired, stimulated. We have ample reason to be humbly grateful that all of this is possible HERE.

As for C.M., at first I tried to continue posting but, as long-buried memories of my experiences in WW II Europe resurfaced - triggered by the horrible events in New York and in suburban Virginia - I was unable to go on.

I respect and support Ginny's and Lorrie's decision to SUSPEND the discussion of Corelli's Mandolin --and the use of the verb expresses my hope that at the proper time a resumption of the discussion is indeed possible.

So much remains to be expressed and shared about Corelli's Mandolin in various respects; the historical and political aspects deserve more scrutiny (to wit, it was not just "a" war the author dealt with, as Mal suggested in one post); and then there is of course the last part of the novel (yes, dear people, there IS more about Corelli AFTER Chapter 61), and specifically its ending ---- to which readers have responded with a great deal of passion.

Meg, oh good, you will finish the book. That's great. There may be yet another opportunity to get back to it. Perhaps when things are calmer. I am grateful for your candid input and insight. Our paths may cross again in this vast arena.

A question Lorrie asked here BEFORE the terrible events of Sep 11 happened deserves pondering by all of us, whether we participated in the C.M. discussion or not : To paraphrase, Lorrie wondered why we knew little or nothing of the regional European wars/civil wars events described in Corelli's Mandolin, and whether we perhaps pay attention more or only to wars in which we ourselves participate. A most pertinent question in light of what has befallen us recently.

this has been an unusually busy but a joyful day, in fact a very FULL day emotionally : my son came by with the grandchildren (5 and 2). A treat that is dispensed infrequently, alas.

Will think about your post and try to answer it.

Thank you.

By contrast, Europe has seen almost constant warfare for centuries, between nations and/or, as in Italy, between nation-states and ruling families, for religious and other reasons. Perhaps that's why WW I was called "the war to end all wars". Would that it had been !

Perhaps you saw 60 Minutes on CBS last night; there were some opinions given on why we are hated in so many parts of the world.

For me, Corelli's Mandolin is an interesting book from various points of view, as I have said before. It spoke to me, for I was there during the period described. I can understand that the book appears alien in a way to the American reader. Jonathan has defined it as a European book, and he is right. But how could it be otherwise ? The author is European and the historic events and wars he described took place on European soil. The Americans played no direct fighting role in the Balkans; in fact, they didn't enter WW II until Pearl Harbor. The war in Europe began with the German invasion of Poland on Sep 1, 1939.

Nellie, I think it is possible to have a good discussion of a book even if one does not like it. Perhaps even a more exciting one. Liking helps, of that there is no doubt.

Early on in the discussion of The House of Sand and Fog, readers took sides for and against the characters, none of whom turned out to be likable. But that may have enhanced the discussion, which was certainly lively.

To distingish between the various factions in the continuing civil wars among the Greeks is all but impossible; the edges between their political affiliations are somewhat blurred, the names a puzzlement.

Does that make any difference ? What about the years of beginning normalcy ? Are they too summarily heaped one upon the other in the telling ? What about Pelagia's adopted daughter, her son and the family's growing prosperity ? And what about the ending ?

Is it believable ? Realistic ? Are we glad or disappointed ? Would it have been better if Corelli had not returned ? Does the reader feel differently about him, see him differently ? Is the reader satisfied that all loose ends are effectively tied ?