A richly rewarding narrative about a young painter's love affair with the Greek island of Sifnos
When Christian Brechneff first set foot on the Greek island of Sifnos, it was the spring of 1972 and he was a twenty-one-year-old painter searching for artistic inspiration and a quiet place to work. There, this Swiss child of Russian émigrés, adrift and confused about his sexuality, found something extraordinary. In Sifnos, he found a muse, a subject he was to paint for years, and a sanctuary. In The Greek House, Brechneff tells a funny, touching narrative about his relationship to Sifnos, writing with warmth about its unforgettable residents and the house he bought in a hilltop farm village. This is the story of how he fell in love with Greece, and how it became a haven from the complexities of his life in Western Europe and New York. It is the story of his village and of the island during the thirty-odd years he owned the house—from a time when there were barely any roads, to the arrival of the modern world with its tourists and high-speed boats and the euro. And it is the story of the end of the love affair—how the island changed and he changed, how he discovered he had outgrown Sifnos, or couldn't grow there anymore. The Greek House is a celebration of place and an honest narrative of self-discovery. In its pages, a naïve and inexperienced young man comes into his own. Weaving himself into the life of the island, painting it year after year, he finds a place he can call home.
This is two stories: One of the author's coming of age, producing art, and learning to be comfortable in his own skin. The other, of an out-of-the-way Cycladic island. To me, the latter story was the more central, although the author might well differ with me.
When the author first arrived on Sifnos, in the early '70s, there was one barely-passable road, and few outside visitors. If one wished to get anywhere, one would walk, often for hours, or ride a mule. Between then and now, change came to the island--roads, busses, then motorbikes, then cars. Electricity, plumbing, high-speed ferries, tourism, and eventually the Eurozone followed, finally dragging the isolated residents into the modern age.
I had the pleasure of reading this book while on Sifnos--my second visit in 15 years. And while I have seen the rapid change on the Island with my own eyes, it has lagged enough behind the other, more developed islands in the Cyclades that it offers a visitor a glimpse of the past, while the services are developed enough that it's no hardship to experience.
Sifnos has a well-marked system of walking trails, that in many cases link towns more directly than the roads (if you ignore the changes in elevation). I spent six hours one day trekking on trails described by the author--getting a glimpse the author's experience. This enhanced my enjoyment of the book (and vice versa).
I found this book because of my attachment to Sifnos, but I expect it would appeal to anyone with a love for travel off the beaten path (whether requited or un), those interested in the tension between simple living and modern life, and those curious about the price and rewards of pursuing one's artistic muses to the point where they inform one's very lifestyle.
Artist and author Christian Brechneff, writing with Tim Lovejoy, chronicles his 30-year courtship with the Aegean isle of Sifnos, recalling his passages of self-discovery, development as a painter and ambivalence over his island identity. Engrossing, if occasionally self-absorbed.
A touching book for those of us who love the island and remember it in old times, marred by egregious, repeated Greek errors that are an embarrassment from a publisher of this quality.
This books falls into the standard travel literature genre with a health dose of romanticism and othering. If it had been written about the Middle East, I would have rolled my eyes and tossed it across the room. That being said, I was on vacation in Sifnos and got to indulge my escapism. Who doesn’t dream of buying a house in the Mediterranean? In that context, it was enjoyable and I learned a bit about the Island.
This isn't a book so much on Sifnos, Greece, as it is about his discovery, and coming to accept, his homosexuality. While I thought I was going to read a great book about the island, instead it delivered lots of F bombs, tales of lovers, and talk about his c*ck. Not at all what I expected. Furthermore, the writing rather bored me. Even when he was talking about the island and the people, it never held my interest.