Tom Foran Clark



Chapter Thirteen



September 4, 2001. From the Rodopos Peninsula and Diktina, Frida and Emery traveled south and west toward Chania in the region of Sfakia in the Lefka Ori, also known as the Madares, the largest mountain range on Crete. In Chania, one of the oldest cities of Crete, site of the ancient Minoan settlement of Kydonia, was the International Institute for Christian-Islam Studies, bringing together university students from around the world. Frida and Emery arrived there in time to attend a lecture of Professor J. Jared Sealander of the J. P. Morgan Private Bank, who illuminated the collapse of the Minoan palace culture as Kydonia had grown into one of the island's most important cities, through to 1971 A.D., when the capital of Crete was transferred from Chania to Heraklion.

The Romans had conquered Chania in 69 B.C. Chania -- Hania -- had originally been called "Alhania," named for the God "Valhanos" -- Vulcan. The Roman god Vulcan had been called, in Greek Mythology, Hephaestus. In Egypt he'd been known as Ptah. When the Arabs conquered Crete in 826 A.D., even as the seaport city of Chania became an important export center, principally for soap, oil, leather, and agricultural products, the Chanians were subjected to a long and horrible period of slavery. When, in 961 A.D., it was reconquered by the Byzantines, all traces of the Arab occupation were abolished. After the 4th Crusade and the dismantling of the Byzantine empire in 1204 A.D., Crete was given to Bonifacio, the Marquis de Monfera, who sold it to the Venicians, who variusly kept it and lost it through to 1263, when the Genoese seized the city from the Venetians, holding on to it until 1285. When the Venetians finally got it back, they renamed it "La Canea" -- Candy.

After 1453 -- and the fall of Constantinople -- Crete had seen a spectacular cultural renaissance, as a stream of refugees arrived from the east. Venetian Candy had become the center of Byzantine art and scholarship. Candy was also famous for a particular candy produced there, made from honey mixed with gelatine, beaten egg white, almond, and nuts. The German word kandizucker stemmed from the candy sugar of Chania.

In 1638, the Venetians, chasing Barbary pirates, had bombarded the Albanian coast. In 1644, a raid was made on a Turkish merchant fleet. A two-month Turkish siege of Chania followed. Despite the the loss of over 40,000 Turks, Chania fell to the the Ottoman Turks on August 2, 1645. The new Turkish island capital was pronounced Seat of the Pasha. Churches were adapted to become mosques. The church of St. Nicholas of the Dominicans now was the "Houghiar Tzamissi" -- the Central Mosque. On the harborfront, the Turks built aa new mosque, the "the Kioutsouk Hassan Tzamissi," surounded by new public baths and arrays of splendid fountains.

The corruption of the Ottoman Sultans worsened even as the Venetian Republic prospered. Candy again came under the rule of the Venetians. In 1669, all of Crete again came into the hands of the Turks. Again, the Venetians took back the island. Three wars between the Venetians and the Turks followed. When Turkey again regained control, a Catholic Holy League was formed against the Turks. Austria, Venice, Poland, Russia, and the Knights of Malta banded together in 1684, battling to reconquer Crete for Venice. By turns, Candy came under Venetian control, then Turkish. From 1830 on, until the end of Turkish occupation, the Turks ruled over the island of Crete to the benefit of ten percent of its population -- Muslims. In 1896, after Christians riots in Chania, war was declared -- the Greco-Turkish war of 1897. Crete now passed into the hands of the Greeks. After1898, with the establishment of the Cretan State, its capital city, Chania, again flourished.

In World War II, the Germans pounded Chania with bombs. A huge fire wiped out all but Chania's inner harbor. "In the post-war period," Professor J. Jared Sealander of the J. P. Morgan Private Bank, speaking in Chania at the International Institute for Christian-Islam Studies, closed his lecture, "the town was rebuilt. Chania again emerged from utter destruction to become -- just look around you -- indeed very beautiful once more."

Modern Chania's waterfront was framed by the Venetian harbor walls. The outer harbor had a broad promenade of countless restaurants and bars fronted with colorfully decorated awnings. Picturesque tiny alleyways led to some of the finest Venetian houses in Chania. In the Ovriaki, the Jewish quarter, was the Venetian church of Saint Francis, which had belonged to the Franciscan monks, but now housed the Chania Archaeological Museum. The Turks had turned the church into a mosque -- the "Yiousouf Pasha Djami." To the south of the Jewish quarter were further segments of the town walls. The Sandrivani quarter, at the heart of old Chania, dated from the Venetian period but owed its name to a Turkish fountain, a "syndrivani," which had stood in the middle of the square -- Eleftherios Venizelos square.

Further north was the Hassan Pacha mosque, the thirteenth century underground church of Agia Irene, and the Well of the Turk restaurant. well away from the tourist tumult of the harbor in the back streets of the former Turkish district of Splantzia, at Rouga Square. The restauarant specialized in spicy laxma bi azeen, a pita-style bread.

After eating, the two went up the hill of Kasteli, one of the most significant parts of the city. In 961 A.D., after Crete had been reconquered by the Byzantines, the Chanians abolished everything having anything to do with the Arab occupation. The hill of Kasteli was fortified with a wall built from stones taken from the ancient city. Though little had survived the heavy German bombardment during World War II, excavations had brought to light remains dating from the first Minoan period (2800-2000 B.C.).

Walking up Kanevaro street, Frida and Emery passed, at the corner of Lithinon, a fenced-off site where a Minoan house was being excavated. Further up Lithinon, toward the top of the rise, were various Venetian doorways and inscriptions and, at the end of the street, a fine old archway. At the next corner, at Kandanoleon, was a larger area of excavation identified as "Minoan Kydonia." Neither of the two digs was open to the public, though you could see much, peering through the fence. Swedish archeologists excavating here had traced the outline of a building engulfed by a violent fire about 1450 B.C. -- similar to that which had destroyed Knossos.

Between 1700 and 1400 B.C. (post-King Minos) Minoan civilization had peaked. New palaces had been built on the ruins of the old -- more magnificent than ever. The social hierarchy had been headed by priest-kings, under the authority of the ruler of Knossos. However, the king of each palace center probably had been the supreme local religious leader. Chanian villas had become extremely popular -- the residences of local governors with extensive powers. Continuous peace - the "Pax Minoica" -- had prevailed across the island, bringing increased cultural development, a charming and refined way of life, and the Minoan empire -- the Cretan thalassocracy ("thalassa" meant "sea"; "kratos" was "rule," or "government"). Palaces had been complex and many storied, with great courtyards, imposing and picturesque porticoes, wide staircases, and monumental entrances. White and veined blocks of gypsum had covered the walls and floors. Dazzling fresco paintings had decorated the walls with lively scenes. There had been rows and rows of sacred quarters, crypts, and banquet halls. There had been an elaborate water-supply and drainage system. Kydonia, one of the most important cities of the Minoan period, had been destroyed around 1200 B.C. -- as all of the cities throughout the eastern Mediterranean had been.

If you drew a line from Chania southeast to Sfakia, then another line north andwest to Diktyna, and then a line back to Chania again, you'd find you'd made a triangle -- a chalice, a cup, the triangular symbol of woman -- and at Chania was the entry to the womb. There, of course, was the center of the mystical shrine. The deities had been worshipped in sanctuaries in the palaces, houses, or surrounding underground caves. The main deity had been the Mother Goddess, portrayed as the goddess with the snakes, the Mistress of the Animals with her lions and chamois, or the goddess of the heavens with her birds and stars.

At Ayias Ekaterinis Square, at the site dubbed Minoan Kydonia, four houses of the Minoan period had been found, as well as a ceramics studio -- the so-called Kydonia Workshop. It was there that Dennis McLaren had claimed he'd discovered his twin goddesses -- later judged to be forgeries. The two chryselephantine statuettes had been placed in acid to eat away at the soft parts of the ivory in order to make the statuettes appear to have been buried for centuries. Wishful thinking had led McLaren to conclude he'd had, in his possession, the real thing. He was not the first student, archaeologist, curator, looter, smuggler, dealer, art patron, museum-goer, feminist, or spiritualist to cover the real real thing with his or her preconception, preoccupation, or delusion. Still, there was real evidence there, at Minoan Kydonia, that there had been many and elaborate ancient artistic and religious activities.

Frida took Emery's arm, and steered him into a labyrinth of narrowing alleyways. They came to a door, on which Frida knocked twice, sharply. The door opened, revealing a dimly lighted room having a chaotic interior. It was a strange, forbidding scene (echoing the Piranesian world of labyrinths and punishments). "Maenads," Frida explained. "Women who hold rituals for Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and wild abandonment -- ceremonies."

The women were burning incense. They were pouring libations. Wine flowed freely. Their hair disheveled, they played instruments, danced, and sang dirges ["nenia"]. Some of them held blazing torches. Many wore a wreath of ivy or flowering smilax, a type of oak. Some of the Maenads had artificial snakes wound around their heads (or two snakes intercoiled around their bodies). Frida explained that the initiates had been given animal names reflecting their inner animal natures. They'd renounced their dull, materialistic lifestyles, and had undergone a ritual death and rebirth into their life as Maenads.

The little party rose quickly into a frenzy of drinking, dancing, and singing -- then higher still, into ecstasy. The excitement of the music, dancing, and wine brought them to a pitch of frenzy -- apparently the object of the rite. Rhythmic bending and swaying grew more extreme. Some of the women made music with flutes and timbrels. A few played cymbals. Others spread honey on their breasts and open thighs. "Euhai, euhoi!" they cried.

Frida, reveling among the revelers, stirred things up further. Speaking rapidly, rhythmically, she seemed to give the women still more energy. The music grew louder. The revelers were propelled into a state of ecstasy -- which, Emery knew, meant "outside the body" -- aspiring to carry their souls to a condition of enthousiasmos -- "inside the god."

The maenads now began to act entirely as animals, fierce and bloodthirsty, roaring and leaping about. In their trance, Frida's devotees performed amazing acts. They inflicted horrible wounds upon themselves. They walked on fire and chewed broken glass. There was blood everywhere. The maenads seemed impervious to pain. The women encircled Emery. They lowered their heads to charge. Emery's hair stood on end. To the root and core of him, he was amazed -- astonished. He was pulled down to the floor by the horde of women. They began tearing at his shirt and pants.

Throwing their heads back violently, the women cried out wildly, "Evohe!" There was wine and blood everywhere. Scraps of rags smeared with blood hung from pole lamps and the ceiling chandeliers. Half a dozen of the Maenads now lifted Emery and took him to a nicely decorated room where there was a big, soft bed. They told him to get into it. They pulled off his shoes and socks, then his shirt and pants. "For these ceremonies," the Maenads insisted, "you will have to be completely naked." Emery obeyed. Initially, the celebrants were wonderful. Nothing was forbidden. Emery quickly succumbed to bodily convulsions.

Then the women took him by the feet and arms and poured hot water on his head and ice cold water on his penis. When he tried to protest or shout out they sat on him. "The best is yet to come!" one cried. "You will have the kandizucker of Chania that you've been desiring." Emery tried to tell them that he had no more appetite, but they weren't listening. One of the Maenads brought out a low-flame welder's torch. "Hold him down," she commanded.

It was enough. Scorched Emery, screaming, scrammed out of there.



Previous Next



Riding in Italy
Derailed in North Africa
Rambling in Spain
Roving in Minoa



Roving in Minoa © 2005, Ameribilia.
Not for Resale or Redistribution of any kind.


To contact the author, e-mail Tom Clark at tomforanclark@verizon.net.