Раймонд Детрез

During the National Revival period, Bulgarians came into contact with the West and created for themselves an image of the Occident mainly through the intermediation of the Greek economic, social and intellectual elite. Although criticism was as a rule embedded in general benevolence and even enthusiasm for the West-which was perceived as an alternative to Ottoman autocracy-, it appears that obviously as a result of the increasing reluctance with regard to Greek language and cultural influence, some Bulgarians were inclined to reject Europeanness together with Greekness. There is evidence of such an attitude in, for example, Dobri Voynikov's well-known comedy Krivorazbranata civilizacija (The Phoney Civilization, 1871), in which the Greek Margaridi, representing Western lifestyle and moral values, is the object of vicious satire. In our contribution, we will go deeper into this embarrassing relationship between Hellenization (as an aspect of urbanisation) and Europeanization (in the sense of adopting the moral values of Enlightenment), paying attention also to the question to what extent Hellenization was rejected because of the incompatibility of Enlightenment with the traditional moral values imposed by religion and the patriarchal society.

The normal criteria for an author to be included in a national literary canon are that s/he should belong to the nation to which the canon is related, that s/he must write in the nation's (standard) language, and that her/his work is of reasonable size and aesthetic value. A criterion of secondary importance, valid in societies marked by nationalism, may also contribute to an author's canonization: the "national" character of her/his work in the sense that it deals with national themes, displays the national identity, or attests to the author's devotion to the national cause - a devotion preferably supported by her/his real-life heroism or martyrdom. Parlichev's canonization has proven to be problematic in all respects. To which nation did he actually belong? In his youth he had no well-defined sense of national identity and probably considered himself a "Greek" in the sense of being an Orthodox Christian. As an adult he explicitly identified himself with the Greek and later with the Bulgarian nation. In the later decades of his life, he seemed to have been inclined to adhere to some form of vague Ohrid or Macedonian particularism, though apparently continuing to perceive himself as a Bulgarian. Given this evolution, it is understandable that Parlichev's national identity grew into a sensitive issue in the framework of discussions about the existence of a Macedonian nation between Bulgarian and Macedonian (literary) historians. Much has been done by Bulgarian and Macedonian post-war scholars to promote Parlichev as one of the pivotal figures in their respective 19thcentury histories. This article explores some of the strategies applied by Bulgarian and Macedonian literary historians in order to include Parlichev in their respective national canons and to give him a more prominent place on the ranking list of national writers. The motivation for canonizing Parlichev proves to have always been political. He served Greek national ambitions when he was given the first prize at the Athenian Poetry Contest in 1860; he served Bulgarian national ambitions, especially after World War II when Bulgarian scholars promoted him as a top class Bulgarian author from Ohrid; and in post-war Yugoslav Macedonia he was out of the blue and unreservedly proclaimed the most important 19thcentury Macedonian author, as if his Macedonian national identity was unequivocal.

In 1860, Grigor Părličev, a Bulgarian from Ohrid in Macedonia, won the prestigious yearly Athenian poetry contest with the romantic epic poem in archaic Greek O Armatolos (An armatole is a kind of Ottoman policeman recruited among the Christian population of the empire.) The poem describes the exploits of an Albanian armatole and a number of Albanian robbers, who are all represented in a remarkably flattering way. However, in an endnote Părličev explicitly states that all Albanians are actually Greeks. Two years later, he again participated in the Athenian poetry contest ― this time unsuccessfully ― with another epic poem, Skenderbe's, dealing with an episode in the life of the Albanian national hero Skander beg and his resistance to the Ottomans. One may wonder why a Bulgarian pays tribute to Albanian heroes in Greek poems. One explanation is that Părličev during his stay in Athens in the 1850s and the early 1860s had adopted to a large extent the Greek national ambitions, which implied that all Orthodox Christians with some knowledge of Greek were actually Greeks. Precisely at the time of Părlicev's participation in the poetry contest, Albanian intellectuals like Thimi Mitko, Anastas Byku, Jani Vreto and others argued that Albanians and Greeks had common ancestors and actually constituted one single people. Părličev obviously supported their ideas. However, as a closer reading of both poems indicates, Părličev was in fact more interested in the religious aspect of the conflicts he described. Actually, he displayed a pre-national (or pre-nationalist), religious Balkan identity rather than identifying himself completely with a particular ethnic or national community.

Among the many Bulgarian autobiographies written in the national revival period, that by Grigor Parlichev one occupies a particular place due to its highly fictional nature. On the one hand, the author provides very little factual information on the historical developments he participated in; on the other hand, he widely elaborates on events with little documentary relevance, inserting dramatic dialogues that cannot possibly be authentic. These particularities of Parlichev"s Autobiography can be explained assuming that Parlichev used the medieval zhitiye (hagiography, vita) as a model for his own biography. Strikingly, nearly all the topoi of the zhitiye as described by Th. Pratsch in his exhaustive Der hagiographische Topos. Griechische Heiligenviten in mittelbyzantinischer Zeit (Berlin, New York, 2005) also feature in Parlichev"s work, moreover in roughly the same order. The most elaborate episodes in Parlichev"s Autobiography ― his victory at the Athenian poetry contest on 1860, which made him a Greek celebrity, and the weeks he spent in prison in Ohrid and Debar in 1868 ― transpire to be secularized versions (in the spirit of national revival) of the main topoi in most hagiographies: the temptation of the saint and his or her suffering for the sake of Christ. As a result, Parlichev succeeds in similarly representing himself in his Autobiography as a "martyr" for the Bulgarian national cause. Happily for the reader, this whole operation is accompanied by a refreshing dose of (unconscious?) self-irony that sometimes makes Parlichev"s Autobiography remind of Sofroniy"s Life and sufferings.

The 18th century in the Balkans is generally considered as a transitional stage from the late Middle Ages to the Enlightenment or the National Revival period. Research apparently focuses mainly on the “progressive” features of historical personalities – those features that announce the future. This appears to be the case also with Partenij Pavlovič, a cleric of Bulgarian origin in the service of the Serbian churches of Peć and Karlovci: many scholars characterize him as an early exponent of Enlightenment and National Revival in the Balkans. However, a close and critical reading of his autobiography and the autobiographical marginalia he used to add to some medieval manuscripts reveal that he was, in fact, a rather bigoted advocate of a conservative brand of Orthodox Christianity. His worldview was far remote from rationalism, secularism and religious tolerance typical of Enlightenment thinking. Partenij repeatedly triggered quarrels with representatives of the Catholic church about the notorious question of the filioque, which according to him is to blame entirely on the Rome. He thinks – as did, by the way, also the Patriarchate of Constantinople – that Ottoman rule is imposed by God to punish the Orthodox Christians for their sins, most likely for their preparedness to accept a reconciliation between the Churches of Rome and Constantinople and their reunification under the authority of the Pope. He strongly believes in the miraculous healing forces of icons and relics. He also seems to be convinced that earthquakes and other natural calamities are deliberately caused by God to punish Catholics who want to turn Orthodox churches into Catholic ones. Partenij looks forward to Peter the Great liberating the Balkan Orthodox Christians from Muslim dominance, but there is no trace of any Bulgarian or Slavic ethnic, let alone national awareness. Cyrillus and Methodius are venerated by him as Christian proselytizers and wonder-workers; there is hardly any attention for their role as the creators of the first Slavic alphabet and the Slavic literary language. Bulgarian and Serbian kings and tsars are referred to solely as protectors of Orthodox Christianity. There is no interest whatsoever in Peter as a reformer; he is perceived exclusively as a tool in the hands of God in order to fight Swedish and Turkish heretics. This might be disillusioning to those who prefer (as I do) Enlightenment to medieval religious obscurantism, but one has to accept the prevalence of the latter in the 18th-century Balkans if he or she wants to grasp how Partenij – and evidently most of his contemporaries – perceived the world around them and responded to it.

In Western literature, the Balkans are most often represented in an unfavourable way. A remarkable exception seems to be the Dutch writer A. den Doolaard (1901-1994). He wrote three novels rendering the Balkans in a positive way. The inn with the horseshoe (1933) describes the braveness of an Albanian boy avenging the besmirched honour of his brother. Orient-Express (1934) deplores the decline of the Macedonian liberation movement due to internecine terrorism. The wedding of the seven Gypsies (1939) extols the dissolute lifestyle, associated with Gypsy music. However, the positive qualities the reader is supposed to admire differ essentially from the norms valued in daily life. Taking pleasure in the Balkans seems to be a form of escapism, limited to leisure time