A Place for Us, by Nicholas Gage, is a wonderful history of Greeks in America

A Place for Us, by Nicholas Gage (1989)

As I read this fast-reading and absorbing autobiography, I felt as if Gage was writing about my own family and Greek relatives and friends that I had grown up with in Buffalo. So many patterns that we all followed: the village roots, early poverty, endless work, tight all-consuming family bonds, bringing relatives over from Greece, the adherence to family honor (especially through the behavior of women), the loyalty to family and fellow patrioti.

Gage depicts how the traditional Greek character (at least, the village-rooted character) works, and does a wonderful and funny job showing its conflict with modern American life. His conflicts as a young man with his father (a man who had lived and worked in America for decades before Nicholas and his sisters came over) are carefully detailed and not sentimentalized -- his father is a real man. He took pains to detail the relationship with his difficult, irascible grandfather, when he made a lengthy trip back to Lia, Greece, in the 1960s. He showed, for example, how the old man preened and exalted in the cleverness of his grandson outwitting the other village men at cards -- Nicholas was one smart mangas.

I was impressed by Gage's focus on what he wanted to do with his life. He discovered in high school that he wanted to be a journalist, and he stuck with that, going on to study journalism in college, to work for the Wall Street Journal, and the New York Times. He juggled his journalism and writing career with his commitment to his family life (he lived and stayed close to his father, sisters, and Greek relatives throughout his career). He kept going, despite setbacks, and a lack of money. He always had the burning need to resolve the murder of his mother Eleni by Communist andartes in the Greek Civil War, and that tied in with his work as a journalist, and led him to a lifelong relationship with Greece and Greeks. I could have used some of his determination!

I was a little put off by Gage's somewhat boastful descriptions of his early sexual experiences. Yet, one of the hottest areas of conflict between young Greeks and their conservative, village-born parents, there in 1950s and 1960s Worcester, Massachusetts, was over sex. It was the same for all Greek boys and girls growing up in America during the emerging sexual revolution of that time. Greek boys were naturally exhorted to get all the sex they could get, while girls were strictly repressed. By describing Gage's own experiences rather explicitly, he draws a contrast to the proscribed life of his sisters, who could not even speak to boys, Greek or American, without harming the family honor. If he is gleeful in his descriptions, Gage at least shows some self-deprecating humor on the subject as well.

I was pleased to read Gage's mention of Arthur Kanaracus, another immigrant, who was then a Greek School teacher in Worcester. The young Gage did not know that the "tall, sad-eyed dark man with glasses, who limped as a result of losing a foot under a train in childhood..." was also a serious composer. In our church choir, we often sing some of Kanaracus's compositions during the divine liturgy, and they are some of my favorite hymns.

There is so much about Greek life in this book, I wish that all Greek Americans could read it.

Health insurance, and The Elephant Man at the New Repertory Theater

The Elephant Man, a play by Bernard Pomerance, at the New Rep Theatre in Watertown. Directed by Jim Petosa.

Haven't had a chance to write in this blog for a while. We saw The Elephant Man several weeks ago, and at this distance, I remember that the first half was absorbing. John Merrick's terrible disfiguring disease (I don't recall the exact name of it), and his awful attempts live a somewhat normal life in late 19th century England, made for good drama. Tim Spears, who plays Merrick, was terrific, as was Michael Kaye, who played the doctor Frederick Treves, who sheltered Merrick in London Hospital. It's a good story in itself, how Merrick permitted himself to be shown in a freak show, his ambiguous relationship with the freak show manager, his pathetic flight to London and to the care of Treves, where he becomes a favorite object of pity and support by London socialites and philanthropists.

The second act...I don't remember much (except for the Victorian-clothed actress Mrs. Kendal giving Merrick a thrill by displaying her breasts to him while on a picnic, her back to the audience). There was a lot of talk about motives. I think the overall question was about who should care for patients like Merrick, and who should pay for it. The playbill implied that this was related to our current debate about health care reform, and I see that. Must Merrick be an object of pity in order to receive donations from wealthy Londoners, and thus maintain a decent life? It's a long stretch from there to the current debate about requiring universal coverage by insurance companies, but I can see the connection, since the Health Care Reform Act (Obamacare) removes the necessity of anyone having to ask for help -- everyone has help in the form of health insurance.