Maroussi is situated 13 km northeast of Athens city centre.
The whole Greek world, past, present and future, rises before me. I see again the soft, low mounds in which the illustrious dead were hidden away; I see the violet light in which the stiff scrub, the worn rocks, the huge boulders of the dry river beds gleam like mica; I see the miniature islands floating above the surface of the sea, ringed with dazzling white bands; I see the eagles swooping out from the dizzy crags of inaccessible mountain tops, their sombre shadows slowly staining the bright carpet of earth below; I see the figures of solitary men trailing their flocks over the naked spine of the hills and the fleece of their beasts all golden fuzz as in the days of legend; I see the women gathered at the wells amidst the olive groves, their dress, their manners, their talk no different now than in Biblical times; I see the grand patriarchal figure of the priest, the perfect blend of male and female, his countenance serene, frank, full of peace and dignity; I see the geometrical pattern of nature expounded by the earth itself in a silence which is deafening. The Greek earth opens before me like the Book of Revelation. I never knew that the earth contains so much; I had walked blindfolded, with faltering, hesitant steps; I was proud and arrogant, content to live the false, restricted life of the city man. The light of Greece opened my eyes, penetrated my pores, expanded my whole being. I came home to the world, having found the true center and the real meaning of revolution. No warring conflicts between the nations of the earth can disturb this equilibrium. Greece herself may become embroiled, but I refuse categorically to become anything less than the citizen of the world which I silently declared myself to be when I stood in Agamemnon's tomb. From that day forth my life was dedicated to the recovery of the divinity of man. Peace to all men, I say, and life more abundant!" [From Henry Miller's "The Colossus Of Maroussi"]
After ten years in Paris, Henry Miller is almost fifty, and it's time for him to take a rest. In 1939 he takes off a year and goes to Greece. He went to visit Lawrence Durrell in Corfu. He did not know it, but the months in Greece would soon become the best period of his life. There is no doubt Greece performed a miracle on Henry Miller, a miracle which resulted in "The Colossus of Maroussi", a lovely and charming book, and by reputation one of the best, perhaps the best, travel book ever written.
I wish I had read it when I still lived in Greece. It would have made my time there even more memorable. I love this book. It's all Greece to me.
