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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