Cape Sunio enters the Aegean Sea, on the coast of Greece, and rises 60 meters above it. It is 65 kilometers from Athens, which involves a slow and winding journey along the coast of an hour and a half by bus. It is a site requested by visitors since ancient times, because its majestic height is presided over by a temple dedicated to Poseidon. Already Homer, in the Odyssey, referred to this place as “sacred.” The first construction in this privileged location dates back to the beginning of the 5th century BC, but the Persians razed the place before being able to complete it. The current temple was built on its ruins, in Doric style, with a peripteral design (surrounded by an exterior peristyle with 13 columns on its long sides and six on the short sides) and amphiprostyle (with two porches at both ends). Today only 16 of its 38 original columns remain, but these still retain their characteristic whiteness, since the marble from which they are made does not contain iron. The Parthenon in Athens, for example, is made of Pentelic marble, which causes its yellowish and golden reflections.
Precisely the relationship between the Parthenon and the temple of Sunius is very remarkable. It is well known that the architectural emblem of Athens is dedicated to the goddess Athena, and was erected during the time of Pericles (499-429 BC). According to myth, Poseidon and Athena disputed the dominion of Attica. Athena won the battle and that is why the capital of Greece is named after her, but the Greeks made amends to Poseidon by dedicating the Sunio promontory to him.
The most curious thing, however, is that the Parthenon, the temple of Sunius and the one dedicated to the goddess Aphaia (or Afea) on the island of Aegina form a so-called “sacred triangle”, because their respective locations draw an equilateral line between them. perfect. The current temple of Aphaia was also erected in the 5th century BC, and even today it has a singularly robust appearance, although its famous pediments are preserved in the Munich Glyptotheque. The island of Aegina can be reached in just over an hour by ferry from the mainland coast. Between Aegea and the continent we find the island of Salamis, which resonates powerfully in our memory for having given its name to the famous naval battle where the Greeks defeated and stopped the Persian threat, in 480 BC. The failure of the Persians was the beginning of the golden age of the Greeks.
Everything is related, then: the traveler, who circulates through these lands and these waters in wonder, witnesses an overdose of history and myth. In a few kilometers, in a few miles, centuries of history and legend contemplate it. The gods and men greet him and take pity on his insignificance.
Today Sunio and its temple are a place of dense tourist penetration. Well-timed excursions are organized to be able to witness (starting at eight in the afternoon in summer) the splendid sunsets that can be seen from the promontory. The king star, in fact, collapses over the bay like the harmless yolk of a cosmic egg, while visitors, scattered on the slope of the cape, immortalize the sunset with all kinds of technological gadgets. This ceremony must have been popular in ancient times as well. There is an important literary tradition that exalts Sunius and something else: Lord Byron, for example, not only dedicated poems to him, but also left his name engraved at the base of one of the temple’s columns. Byron’s verses are interesting (“Place me on the marble slope of Sunio…”), but the authentic universal lyrical monument dedicated to these salt columns is a famous poem in Catalan by Carles Riba, included in the volume Bierville Elegies (1942).
Carles Riba (1893-1959) is an institution of contemporary Catalan literature. He was a poet and teacher of Greek: his translation of the Odyssey Catalan is considered the best of any language. As a poet, he was faithful to noucentisme but also the author of a personal and non-transferable work. In 1938 he had to leave Catalonia due to the imminent occupation of Franco’s troops. He settled near Paris, in a town called Bierville. There he created a set of immortal poems, among which the one dedicated to Sunius (Súnionin Catalan). “Súnion! I will evoke the rain with a crit of joy / you and your golden sun, king of the sea and the wind.” (“Sunio, I will evoke you from afar with a cry of joy / you and your loyal sun, king of the sea and the wind.” I remember perfectly the first time I read the beginning of this composition: it was 35 years ago, but my spirit still dances to its tune. They are unforgettable verses, informed by a strangely perfect music. Riba here imitated the quantitative rhythm of the ancient elegy. Exiled in an occupied France, far from his country, Riba carries out a new mythologization of the temple. of Sunio, which served as a guide for sailors in the past and now stood as a symbol of an idea of Europe and freedom. The temple, mutilated and bloodless, can still inspire spirit, “ric of the one who has donated me in such a pure ruin” (“Rich in what he has given, and in his ruin so pure”).
The Bierville Elegies They were on the verge of being shipwrecked in the stormy waters of the postwar period. They had to be published clandestinely in Barcelona in 1943 simulating a Buenos Aires imprint. Only in 1951, eight years before the poet’s death, could they be disseminated without censorship, in full sunlight, in their original language. And from there, to glory.
So many years later, the tourists who photograph the sunset from the slopes of Sunio as if it were the end of the world know nothing, perhaps, of all the passions that this temple, “happy with exalted salt,” has been able to bring together. But that’s how it is and that’s how it should be stated.
Subscribe here
to The Traveler newsletter and find inspiration for your next trips in our accounts Facebook, Twitter and instagram.
#Passion #temple #Sounius #place #Lord #Byron #engraved
