One fall my husband and I were on the Greek island of Sifnos, one day I heard a young lady shout, "Elektra!" A little girl of five or six years answered a flimsy "yes" a little further up the road. She was squeezed up against a car. The cry made me think of the literary Elektra, that she is shaped so vividly by Sophocles in the drama that she could have stood there in a Greek everyday life. The chef in the restaurant where we ate was called Aristotle. He had goats, and perhaps there was a part of his flock that constantly crossed the road, which meandered around the island in steep slopes. Past and present, myth and everyday life, and the idea of how they lived there, then and now,. . .
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