Read The Messenger of Athens: A Novel for Free Online Page A

back. His self-promotion as seer fed his voyeurism, and his appetite for gossip; by this means, his harvest of all the island’s troubles was always fresh. But over time his vicarious habit, his close attention to the nocturnal adventures of his neighbors, his long experience of life and his knowledge of what became of his dreamers had given him a certain insight. Twice, he had understood that the dreamers had foretold their own approachingdeaths. He had kept silence; time had proved him right. And he knew the symbols of betrayal and infidelity: kisses and thieves, abandonment and foreboding. His observations were rarely direct. Not everyone wants to hear the truth. But he might, sometimes, pour a little poison in an ear as he refilled a glass of ouzo, or drop a dark hint as he removed an ashtray. A word to the wise is sufficient. The willfully blind could choose to remain so.
    “I dreamed,” she began, “that I was sitting in a wonderfully comfortable armchair. It was the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat in. It was as if it was made for me; I felt happy sitting there.” She shifted on her wooden, cane-bottomed chair. “You know, Uncle, these chairs are not very comfortable. They’re too hard to sit on for long. You should buy some new ones.”
    “But that,” he cried, pointing a triumphant finger towards the sky, “is my masterstroke! Over the years, I have given this a lot of thought, a
lot
of thought.” He banged a fist on the rain-spattered table. “Think! Consider, my dear, the people who live here, the people who visit my makeshift café. They are, by nature, amongst the laziest people in the world. They are not like other people, not even like other Greeks, and certainly not like other nationalities, Germans, say, or Japanese. Here, they sit for hours and hours over a single cup of coffee, telling you how hard they’ve been working and how tired they are. When it rains, they won’t go to work; even the children don’t go to school if it’s raining. To do a job which would occupy a German for ten minutes would take one of these people a day and a half.
    “Now, I want you to imagine what would happen if the chair you’re sitting on were comfortable. You have nothing else to do today. You would settle into your chair—and perhaps never leave! I would be bringing you coffee all day long! Later on, you would ask me for blankets and a pillow, and sleep where you sit! When George the bus driver came in to drink his beer, he would sit down, make himself comfortable—and decide not to drive the bus anymore today! Beyond all doubt, Athimos the plumber would do the same! There would be no more public transport on this island: our drains would remain forever blocked! So I, in a moment of genius, had this idea. I sought out and installed in my café the most uncomfortable chairs I could find. It was not difficult; we Greeks are very good at producing uncomfortable chairs. And you’ll find none of these hand-picked chairs has four legs the same length. They throw you slightly off balance, so you can never quite relax. Always, within half an hour, your backside is numb. You stand up to relieve it, and while you’re standing up, you might as well go about your business. It is a carefully thought-out strategy which has so far never failed me. It is perfect for ousting both bores and drunks alike. It is a strategy so brilliant that I wrote to the government suggesting a national ban on comfortable chairs in any form. Imagine the improvements in productivity! Greek manufacturing would lead the world! But I must be honest: they haven’t yet replied. Probably some ambitious politician has stolen my idea and is furthering his career by selling it as his own.”
    There was a short silence.
    She smiled at him. “And who could blame him?”
    He grinned, and lit another cigarette.
    “Anyway,” she said. “I was sitting in my comfortable chair, somewhere I knew, perhaps our kitchen. But it was without any other