Professor Karalis 鈥 or Vras, as he usually prefers 鈥 came to Australia 鈥渁ccidentally鈥 in 1989 as a university lecturer. He now holds the Chair of Sir Nicholas Laurantus in Modern Greek and Byzantine Studies, established in 1968 with a donation from a Kythera-born businessman who valued the contributions of 鈥渢he immortal Greek language鈥 and Greek thought to present-day life.
鈥淲e have a fight with the Classics, where do they end?鈥 Karalis said in an interview with the Sydney Social Sciences and Humanities Advanced Research Centre (SSSHARC).
He dates the transition from Ancient to Modern Greek to the 4th century when the New Testament used the simplified language of non-native speakers. Others argue for the 6th century or the 10th century, 鈥渨hen someone living in Constantinople would understand immediately someone from modern Greece鈥.
Professor Vrasidas Karalis
Much of his work is focused on bringing Greek culture to the English-speaking world. He edits the Greek Studies journal in Australia, and has translated modern Greek poetry into English. One of his most successful books is A History of Greek Cinema (Continuum, 2012), which has sold 150,000 copies in English and, like most of his books, has been translated into Greek. 鈥淕reeks love translations,鈥 he said, with about 12,000 translated books published every year in Greece.
Equally important is his interest in Australians of Greek heritage. He has translated, taught and written on writers including the poet Antigone Kefala, novelist Christos Tsiolkas, and is working on a book about filmmaker George Miller and his Mad Max movies.
鈥淢iller has such an interesting cultural imaginary, he鈥檚 created this incredible character. My question to him is 鈥榃hy isn鈥檛 your Greek background appearing anywhere?鈥 He was born here in Chinchilla in Queensland. But his name is Miliotis from Kythera, and I met his brother, who has a thicker accent than mine in English.鈥
Karalis dislikes contemporary identity politics, which 鈥渇ragments collective movements of emancipation鈥. Multiculturalism transformed Australia in the 1970s and 鈥80s, he said, 鈥渂ut it presupposes that there are definite essential identities. I don鈥檛 like Zorba, I don鈥檛 like souvlaki and I don鈥檛 eat feta; I like French cheeses. There鈥檚 a more dynamic perception, but we intellectuals have failed to conceptualise it yet.鈥
Osmosis 鈥 鈥渋f I may use a Greek word鈥 鈥 is a two-way process, as Karalis defines it, of foreigners arriving in a new country and changing both the place and themselves. This certainly describes his own life and career.
Born to middle-class parents in Olympia, he grew up playing on the site of the ancient Olympic Games. After studying in Athens and at Cambridge and the Sorbonne, he joined a monastery in Russia to become a monk. 鈥淏ut I failed, I discovered God doesn鈥檛 really exist.鈥 He took a job teaching in the Netherlands until the depressing weather pushed him to apply to universities in Chile and Australia. Chile was his first choice but when he reacted badly to vaccinations he accepted instead the offer from Sydney.
鈥淚 fell in love with Australia, the incredible weather, the incredible people, the landscape, the egalitarian spirit,鈥 he said. He travelled widely and became a member of the Arrernte community in Central Australia. 鈥淎s Patrick White says, your country is of the subtlest beauty.鈥
As a child Karalis heard about whole villages of Greek people moving to Australia, 鈥渟o for us Australia was always a mythical land鈥. In 1975 he read White鈥檚 novel The Tree of Man in Greek translation and read it aloud to his grandmother, who complained that nothing happened in the book. One rainy night in Utrecht he found The Eye of the Storm in the American bookshop and he was 鈥渉ooked鈥.
With six languages, Karalis鈥檚 first position at Sydney University was lecturer in modern languages. He has taught Greek history, European studies, Classics, ranging across the arts, politics and globalisation. Seated in his office among overflowing bookshelves and outcrops of books sent to him, it is clear that literature is a passion.聽
For years he taught classes in Australian literature and in translation: 鈥渘ot simply linguistic translation but cultural translation as well, translation of ideas, behaviour, mentalities; the way cultures communicate and have these fusions and osmosis, the process of hybridisation in cultures, which I love.鈥
Among his many translations into Greek have been White鈥檚 novels Voss, The Vivisector and Riders in the Chariot and his play The Cheery Soul, which ran for months in Athens during the 2000 Sydney Olympics. Voss is one of the greatest and most underestimated novels of the 20th century in Karalis鈥檚 opinion.
鈥淧atrick White dislocated the English language from the point of view of a new community of speakers, the Australians,鈥 he said. 鈥淗e鈥檚 the first one who understood the poetry of the language of the lower classes, and the incredible metaphors and the dry sense of humour and semantics of displacement. Australians never say directly what they mean, you have to infer it, so the tension between what they try to say and don鈥檛 want to say is an amazing element in Australian literature.鈥
Patrick White. Credit: Dutch National Archives, The Hague, Fotocollectie Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau (ANEFO), 1945-1989
In 2018 Karalis organised a SSSHARC Retreat and Huddle on 鈥淪ocial and Political Impact of Translation鈥, which ran in conjunction with another led by Dr Avril Alba, Senior Lecturer in Holocaust Studies and Jewish Civilisation, on 鈥淢ultilingual Australia: Past and Present鈥.
With a grant from SSSHARC and a large donation from the Greek community, the groups spent four days in discussions at the Hydro Majestic hotel in the Blue Mountains. They brought in Roderick Beaton, Professor of Modern Greek at King鈥檚 College London, and Professor Michael Tsianikas from Flinders University. The 25 participants included Aboriginal students from the Koori Centre and other scholars from several languages, Gender Studies, Fine Arts and Political Economy. State Library of NSW archivists spoke about using documents in other languages.
Karalis hosted a concluding Sydney Ideas public event at the university with Adrian Vickers, Yixu Lu, Joshua Stenberg from the University of Sydney, and Chris Andrews from the University of Western Sydney talking about the art, value and difficulties of translation.
鈥淚t was a very important thing,鈥 Karalis said. 鈥淚 believe translation is cultural cohesion, unifying the cultural language in a multicultural society. What SSSHARC has done is very good because suddenly you internationalise the place and make it a place of confluence. You need support, which is not only financial.鈥
After the SSSHARC gatherings Karalis, Alba and others planned a two-year cultural program, which was interrupted in 2020 by the coronavirus. During the successful first year there were conferences, workshops, reading groups and lectures. The National Film Archive showed films made by migrants in the 1950s and 鈥60s on how to behave like Australians. They studied the history of objects with cultural significance in different communities, including a presentation by Karalis on Patrick White鈥檚 Greek recipes.
Karalis was interested in White long before he knew about his connection with Greece through his partner Manoly Lascaris. After White鈥檚 death in 1990, he began visiting the house at Centennial Park and later interviewing Lascaris. Their conversations were published as a book, Recollections of Mr Manoly Lascaris (Brandl & Schlesinger, 2008).
Manoly Lascaris, 'Kitchen, Martin Road, 1990'. Credit: William Yang
鈥淢r Lascaris鈥, as he insisted on being called, was an enigmatic character and only 鈥渁 shadow鈥 in David Marr鈥檚 biography of the Nobel Prize winner. Born in Constantinople into Greek aristocracy, he met White in Alexandria and moved to Australia with him in 1948. Karalis believes he was an intellectual influence on White, and was the first reader of his novels.
鈥淧eople used to call him the butler of Patrick White but this was the most educated, the most sensitive, the most meditative individual I鈥檝e ever met.鈥 He was also a snob who spoke in old-fashioned formal Greek and told his interviewer he sounded 鈥減rimitive鈥, Karalis recalled with a laugh.
Doing their interviews in Greek gave Lascaris an opportunity to express himself fully. 鈥淗e used to say 鈥楨nglish is only half of my face鈥,鈥 said Karalis, who agrees there are some things he can only say in English and others he can only say in Greek. Although he had not written in Greek for 30 years, Karalis was asked to write about quarantine in Sydney for a Greek journal and found that 鈥渟uddenly this incredible explosion of Greek master prose came out鈥.
A fascination with hidden stories led to Karalis鈥檚 latest book, The Glebe Point Road Blues (Brandl & Schlesinger, 2020). As a resident of Glebe for 30 years until recently, he collected narrative fragments about local 鈥渙utcasts, radicals and outsiders鈥 in semi-fictionalised prose and poetry. There are shopkeepers, academics, artists, beggars, thieves, bohemians and prophets, Indigenous and migrants, mostly pushed out when the suburb was gentrified in the 1990s before the Olympics.
鈥淢ainstream Australia doesn鈥檛 want to pay attention to these micro-stories, and on the other hand fetishises migrant stories as secluded ghetto communities,鈥 Karalis said. He believes oral history should be valued by academia and would like to see an oral history of Sydney University, where staff hold a trove of knowledge about the buildings and their occupants.
Karalis worries about the future of Humanities in today鈥檚 universities, but less for the future of Modern Greek Studies, which has about 150 enrolments a year. Languages are exempt from the latest fee rises and most students are Greek-Australian rather than international; in recent years they include children of mixed marriages with backgrounds from Aboriginal to Asian.
Karalis sees his role as a conduit to those who will continue his work and create something of their own. One of his students, for example, did a new Greek translation of White鈥檚 The Tree of Man, which he edited. The earlier translation was done from the French 鈥 鈥渘ot very good, that鈥檚 why my grandmother didn鈥檛 like it鈥. Many graduates have taken up academic positions overseas. But when students visit Greece, they feel very Australian, as Karalis does.
鈥淵ou understand how the civil culture of a place becomes internalised,鈥 he said. 鈥淭hey go for a month and they love the beautiful landscapes, but I tell them Jervis Bay is much better than Mykonos.鈥
The SSSHARC Retreat and Huddles on translation were held in February 2018. The Sydney Ideas event 鈥淭ranslating culture and talking with translators鈥 was on February 5, 2018.