Cretan Canadian Poet, Author, Translator, Publisher
Author: vequinox
BIOGRAPHY
Manolis (Emmanuel Aligizakis) is a Greek-Canadian poet and author. He was recently appointed an honorary instructor and fellow of the International Arts Academy, and awarded a Master’s for the Arts in Literature. He is recognized for his ability to convey images and thoughts in a rich and evocative way that tugs at something deep within the reader. Born in the village of Kolibari on the island of Crete in 1947, he moved with his family at a young age to Thessaloniki and then to Athens, where he received his Bachelor of Arts in Political Sciences from the Panteion University of Athens. After graduation, he served in the armed forces for two years and emigrated to Vancouver in 1973, where he worked as an iron worker, train labourer, taxi driver, and stock broker, and studied English Literature at Simon Fraser University. He has written three novels and numerous collections of poetry, which are steadily being released as published works. His articles, poems and short stories in both Greek and English have appeared in various magazines and newspapers in Canada, United States, Sweden, Hungary, Slovakia, Romania, Australia, and Greece. His poetry has been translated into Spanish, Romanian, Swedish, German, Hungarian languages and has been published in book form or in magazines in various countries. He now lives in White Rock, where he spends his time writing, gardening, traveling, and heading Libros Libertad, an unorthodox and independent publishing company which he founded in 2006 with the mission of publishing literary books. His translation book “George Seferis-Collected Poems” was shortlisted for the Greek National Literary Awards the highest literary recognition of Greece.
Distinguished Awards
Winner of the Dr. Asha Bhargava Memorial Award, Writers International Network Canada, 2014
“George Seferis-Collected Poems” translated by Manolis, shortlisted for the Greek National Literary Awards, translation category.
1st International Poetry Prize for his translation of “George Seferis-Collected Poems”, 2013
Master of the Arts in Literature, International Arts Academy, 2013
1st Prize for poetry, 7th Volos poetry Competition, 2012
Honorary instructor and fellow, International Arts Academy, 2012
2nd Prize for short story, Interartia festival, 2012
2nd Prize for Poetry, Interartia Festival, 2012
2nd Prize for poetry, Interartia Festival, 2011
3rd prize for short stories, Interartia Festival, 2011
Books by Manolis
Autumn Leaves, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2014
Übermensch/Υπεράνθρωπος, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2013
Mythography, paintings and poetry, Libros Libertad, 2012
Nostos and Algos, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2012
Vortex, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2011
The Circle, novel, Libros Libertad, 2011
Vernal Equinox, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2011
Opera Bufa, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2010
Vespers, poetry by Manolis paintings by Ken Kirkby, Libros Libertad, 2010
Triptych, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2010
Nuances, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2009
Rendition, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2009
Impulses, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2009
Troglodytes, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2008
Petros Spathis, novel, Libros Libertad, 2008
El Greco, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2007
Path of Thorns, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2006
Footprints in Sandstone, poetry, Authorhouse, Bloomington, Indiana, 2006
The Orphans - an Anthology, poetry, Authorhouse, Bloomington, Indiana, 2005
Translations by Manolis
Idolaters, a novel by Joanna Frangia, Libros Libertad, 2014
Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems, Libros Libertad, 2014
Yannis Ritsos-Selected Poems, Ekstasis Editions, 2013
Cloe and Alexandra-Selected Poems, Libros Libertad, 2013
George Seferis-Collected Poems, Libros Libertad, 2012
Yannis Ritsos-Poems, Libros Libertad, 2010
Constantine P. Cafavy - Poems, Libros Libertad, 2008
Cavafy-Selected Poems, Ekstasis Editions, 2011
Books in other languages
Eszmelet, (Hungarian), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Hungarian by Karoly Csiby, AB-ART, Bratislava, Slovakia, 2014
Hierodoules, (Greek), poetry, Sexpirikon, Salonica, Greece, 2014
Yperanthropos,(Greek), poetry, ENEKEN Publications, Salonica, Greece, 2014
Übermensch (German), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into German by Eniko Thiele Csekei, WINDROSE, Austria, 2014
Nostos si Algos, (Romanian) poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Romanian by Lucia Gorea, DELLART, Cluj-Napoca, Romania, 2013
Tolmires Anatasis, (Greek) poetry, GAVRIILIDIS EDITIONS, Athens, Greece, 2013
Filloroes, (Greek ) poetry, ENEKEN PUBLICATIONS, Thessaloniki, Greece, 2013
Earini Isimeria, (Greek) poetry, ENEKEN PUBLICATIONS, Thessaloniki, Greece, 2011
Stratis o Roukounas, (Greek) novel, MAVRIDIS EDITIONS, Athens, Greece, 1981
Magazines
Canadian Fiction Magazine—Victoria, BC
Pacific Rim Review of Books—Victoria, BC
Canadian Poetry Review—Victoria, BC
Monday Poem, Leaf Press-Lantzville, BC
The Broadkill Review, Milton, Delaware
Ekeken, Thessaloniki, Greece
Envolimon, Beotia, Greece
Annual Literary Review, Athens, Greece
Stigmes, Crete, Greece
Apodimi Krites, Crete, Greece
Patris, Crete, Greece
Nyxta-Mera, Chania, Greece
Wallflowers, Thessaloniki, Greece
Diasporic Literature Spot, Melbourne, Australia
Black Sheep Dances, California, USA
Diasporic Literature Magazine, Melbourne, Australia
Spotlight on the Arts, Surrey, BC
Barnwood, International Poetry Magazine, Seattle, USA
Unrorean, University of Maine, Farmington, Maine, USA
Vakhikon, Athens, Greece
Paremvasi, Kozani, Greece
Szoros Ko, Bratislava, Slovakia
Mediterranean Poetry, Sweden
Apostaktirio, Athens, Greece
Life and Art, Athens, Greece
Logos and Images, Athens, Greece
Contemporary Writers and Thinkers, Athens, Greece
Palinodiae, Athens, Greece
Royal City Poet’s Anthology, 2013, New Westminster, BC, Canada
To parathyro, Paris, France
Ragazine C.C, New Jersey
Artenistas, Athens Greece
Deucalion the Thessalos, Greece.
Literary Lectern, Athens, Greece
Homo Universalis, Athens Greece
At first she could see only the tossing head of the Holstein cow that Morley had long ago named Jezebel for her nasty disposition. Sparky sat in the straw close to the pen, tail wagging, ears forward, almost begging to be let in to the pen to help. As Tyne walked closer to the rails she saw Morley, bare from the waist up, standing behind the cow with his right arm almost hidden inside of her. Tyne gasped and Morley glanced up. His face crimson from the effort of the struggle, he said haltingly, “Tyne … you’re up. I … I didn’t get a chance to … check on you.” Jezebel, tied by a rope to a post, tossed her head, bellowed and tried to land a kick on her perceived tormentor who deftly sidestepped to avoid the flinging hoof. Tyne raised her voice to be heard above the cow’s deafening bawl. “What on earth are you doing?” “I’m trying to … turn the calf. It … it was coming backend first.” “Oh yeah,” Tyne said, “breach delivery. I didn’t know cows did that.” She raised her voice as the big animal lashed out with its right hind leg, missing Morley’s knee by inches. “Morley, can I help? What can I do?” She started to open the pen gate, but he stopped her with a warning glance. “No, Tyne, don’t come in here, it’s too dangerous. She … she’s not the gentlest cow we have.” An understatement, Tyne thought as she stepped back. But she felt helpless. She wished Morley had someone to help him because she feared for his safety. But what could she do? She knew of only one veterinarian in the area; most of the farmers were well practiced in taking care of emergencies. But when it came to animals like Jezebel, they needed all the help they could get. Morley had talked of selling the unruly beast, but she was one of his best milk cows and produced excellent offspring. From her vantage point beside the gate, Tyne saw Morley’s face turn crimson and heard him grunt with one last effort. Then he stepped back and away from Jezebel who interpreted her sudden freedom as a signal to lie down.
Heartmelts and Heartaches If a given situation Has a romantic sensation Then a ratio determines Actual levels of its romance If you divide the strength of love By its realistic chance You’ll get something that indicates Future heart melts and heartaches Shooting Stars Shooting stars are fast Dreams come true slow Until you forget A wish long ago For many years now I kept the same wish It’s you – fate allow – I’d like to be with And now I recall A wish that came true I was wishing before That I could find you
“I’ll give it to you,” Ken said. “No,” he said. “You have to learn about artwork. You don’t give it away. If you do, it becomes worthless. Things that are given, such as works of art, tend to sit on the shelf for a while and then they go into a bedroom somewhere and before you know it they’re in the basement and they become part of the flotsam and jetsam of people’s lives. But if you pay a great sum of money for something it goes over the mantel and you hold cocktail parties to boast about your acquisition. That is one side of the art world you’re going to have to learn about. How do we attribute value to something in a world that understands very little? Everything is quantified in our world. Therefore, if it has a big number attached to it, it must be of great value.” Ken and Rui agreed on a sum of money that was not too great but that seemed like a great deal to Ken. With great pride he told his father that he had sold a drawing to Rui. “Did you offer to give it to him?” His father asked. “Yes, I did and he wouldn’t take it,” Ken said and repeated what Rui had told him. Ken Sr. smiled. “Yes, that’s probably quite wise,” he said. One day, When Francisco and Ken came out of the shack to go fishing they noticed a young woman walking on the beach. Ken had seen her from time to time walking to or from the hospital where she worked, or climbing down the cliffs to the ocean. On this day, as so often happened, the beach was empty, save for themselves and the marine life that scurried about the rocks. The young woman had not seen the old man and the boy and thinking herself utterly alone, took off her clothes and walked into the water. Ken was mesmerized; she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. “Look at that,” he whispered to Francisco. “Yes,” he said, as though reading his thoughts, “She is very beautiful. She has a limp, you know.” “What does a limp have to do with anything?” “It’s a long and complicated story – and we should not be interfering here. She thinks she’s alone so let’s let her be alone.” From that day on she became Ken’s passion. He discovered that she was a nursing student and that she had come from a village several miles away. Her family were peasants but she had studied hard because she was determined that she would not become a servant for rich people. He also became friends with Dawn Coates, a girl who was being tutored at the same small school he attended each day. Her parents were divorced – her mother, American, and her father, English. She was one of the first children he had ever admired. She was strong and direct and seemed fearless.
THE GIFT OF SLEEP All of a sudden my proud silence is teased by the thought that ants never sleep and their sad and Sisyphean wakeup call could follow me even in my slumber, and then I withdraw into the perfume of a box from the Palais Garnier, into the smooth flight between napping and music, or into the coolness from the Bedouins’ pillows and the non-shadows from a high boat, among the fjords heated and extinguished for centuries by the sun protected in silky whiteness, beyond all the pains and beyond the final repentance, in an Edemic garden where the fertility of wilderness is now lying, and keeps reminding the Inuit how non unique his soul is and how I have always dreamt of him in the destiny projected against the waves of the huge crowd in Mecca, Oh God, all these are getting petrified in Veronica’s veil, a little statue from a Bosnian village often swept by the Virgin’s hem.