Mycenae! Stranger, weep... If you want to pray, there is no altar. Everything is shattered, melted beneath the unbearable sole of time. And yet... in that old and elusive time, everything stood tall. The broken hydrias were once overflowing with nectar. These columns held the sky of wisdom on their heads! Then the Greeks got fed up, intoxicated by knowledge and brilliance, and shattered everything, turned it into fragments! Yes, they were blinded by too much brightness. If you want to see Mycenae, fiery pilgrim, bow down. The city is sunken. Mycenae is an underground city. A blessing upon the soil that preserved it from its people and from the fury of their destruction.
As the ebony nights alternate with the moonlit ones, this lyrical novel urges us to follow the author in his quests in the recesses of asthmatic life. However, redemption will come much later, in his epilogue, when he concludes that your happiness is perhaps merely a way to give a little happiness to others. This fascinating work, which he himself characterizes as mythofantasy, is the culmination of an entire period for Lountemis, who then enters his second and longer period, marked by the Resistance and his subsequent sufferings.
