A woman identifies with Greece itself. When she protests and cries, Greece protests and cries. And that’s exactly what I wanted to do - to make Greece cry, to cry Greece, to cry with Greece. But, on the other hand, I didn’t want to be limited to crying. I wanted to end on a note of optimism and affirmation, which is also very characteristic of Greeks as a race, and moreover aesthetically necessary.

Otherwise, "The Third Wreath," already quite depressing, would become a noose around the reader's neck. You see, women are bearers of life, and for that reason, by their nature, more composed and practical than men. They cry. But once they have cried well, they return to the daily routine of practically dealing with the problems that men have created with their ambition.

There are also other reasons why the narrator in "The Third Wreath" is a woman. For example, by speaking through the voice of a woman without being a woman, I automatically questioned certain "eternal" concepts - the notion of man, masculinity, etc. "The Third Wreath" achieves this in many insidious ways, which are better left for the discerning critic of the future.

[Excerpt from the text on the back cover of the edition]