Manos Hatzidakis
exceRpts from ‘A few things about Tradition'
Sunday, May 20th 1979
What a fine thing tradition is…
…the national, folk traditions and any that come from the depths of Time.
[…]
Tradition is the sum of the ego of the departed and the guilt, the compromise of the living. The spiritual and psychic slavery that hinders and finally mutilates our natural functions. Tradition forces us to submit to the dead and thus renders us incapable of change, revolution and release.
[…]
As I found Crete inside me again, I was impressed that its youth danced Cretan dances all night, not foreign ones […] I found this a bright example for the rest of the country. But the more I looked on, the more pensive I became and I began to see a potential danger. The danger of the quaint. That which presents us with ease, provocatively, but without us having learned to live comfortably with our past.
Because tradition is only worthwhile when it isn’t limited to mere portrayal, but rooted in our everyday and unpretentious life. That is, when the heritage is assumed naturally, without need for further explanations. That is the only time when it should exist. Otherwise, it will be good for it to disappear in Time, even replaced by lesser habits and customs. Because the quality of legacy is dictated by the living material we possess, not the ethos or style of other times.
That’s why there’s no use crying over spilled milk. And that is why we should choose whatever coexists and lives with us in our time rather than what has passed. And through the infinite diverse choices, maybe we can find our own mold, that will offer our offspring clarity, moderation and contemplation. This is the ultimate and age-old duty. Only that it isn’t revealed by any scriptures, just the occasional lunatic and the truly lofty-minded.
Kazantzakis writes in his “Askitiki – Salvatores Dei”:
Beyond the mind, at the sacred precipice of the heart,
I trace the edge trembling. One foot grabs
the sturdy earth, the other paws at the darkness
above the abyss.
I sense beyond these phenomena
a potent substance. I want to be one with it.
I sense that the potent substance fights
behind the phenomena to join my heart,
but the body stands between us.
The Askitiki may not be a gospel of youth today, but nobody can deny that, with his brave Cretan passion, Kazantzakis touched upon poignant visions and had closely approached a more evolved phase of humanity.
[…]
Today […] where Poetry has become the instrument of a dramatic clown in a Fellini-esque circus, one could shout:
Gentlemen,
Kill the memory. Start afresh.
Only thus can we hope to
enter bravely
Some future world that will laugh at us
For being moved by the dead, music
And the stars