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Rober Elsie
Lufta per krijimin e nje alfabeti shqip. The Transmission of Urban SongsSurvival of the Songs and Oral TraditionThe first transcriptions of urban songs and the first notated songs by individual composers (with some rare exceptions) appeared as recently as the first half of the twentieth century, in the form of arrangements for piano, instrumental or orchestral accompaniment. The basic urban song repertory belonged to the oral tradition, in which songs were essentially passed on by word of mouth or by living example, and almost none of the songs was written down until the twentieth century. This will be discussed in more detail below, under Transmission. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Albania was still fundamentally a rural country, though with some important towns. Traditional singer–composers grew up in an environment where all music-making was part of one vast landscape; music was an important part of their everyday lives, and it rarely traveled far from its immediate area. The local traditional urban songs circulated for generations around the areas in which they originated, and sometimes further afield. When the urban songs of makam practices were introduced during the Ottoman occupation (see Chapter Five), their influence on the local traditional urban songs was obvious; however, the regions of southern Albania were inclined to retain to a larger degree the pentatonic usage (or the “diatonicized” pentatonic), i.e., the rural aspect of the music. The latter practice, which over the centuries had been well consolidated, was particularly resistant to the new Middle Eastern influences. The same might be said (to a certain degree) of the wedding songs or dances and the shtregulla songs of Shkodra, in the north, which reveal a distinctive local diatonic urban music. The Albanian urban music of Middle Eastern inclination
was progressively introduced from the seventeenth century onwards as part of the Muslim way of life at that time. From my
reading on the subject, I have come to the conclusion that the military, sacred, secular and popular Turkish music of the
time, used both at social gatherings and religious services in Albania, was practiced and disseminated in two ways
and in two phases: (1) Initially, through music “which arose in the fourteenth century and later became known as mehter.
In the West, as a result of the Turkish wars, this music became known as Janissary music because it was played mostly by the
musicians of the elite yeniēeri (‘new troops.’)”1 In Albania in particular, where the
judicial and social influence of the Ottoman Empire became stronger than in the neighboring nations,
(2) Later, through the Middle and Near Eastern professional musicians and trained singers, who, by introducing Turkish music (usually the melancholy themes “over the vanity of human things”)3 and by teaching the methods of intoning secular or sacred art music, also played the role of the cultural messengers of the Ottoman imperial dynasty in Albania. Along with its music, which in Turkey was cultivated in the saray-s of the upper classes and in religious communities, the Ottoman imperial culture introduced its literature and language, which became known as the divan culture. Albania’s remoteness from the main center of Ottoman culture meant that the Turkish elements of folk, secular and popular music introduced by the yeniēeri-s, wandering musicians and settlers gradually intermingled with the elements of Ottoman art music, introduced by the Turkish semi-classical or consummate musicians into the Albanian pa¦alık-s and religious centers. It is important to stress that two main branches of Ottoman Turkish sacred music were practiced: (a) the chanting (reciting) of the Qur’an and hymns, which “was permissible in mosques and at orthodox religious gatherings,”4 and (b) the chanting of the mystical songs and hymns (nefe-s) of the Dervishes, which were practiced as part of their tolerant religious ceremonies. Whoever introduced the Ottoman music into Albania, the later result was a product of the local, Albanian, urban singer–composer’s creation. Many foreign travelers, some of whom are mentioned in this work,5 have described in their books the Albanian wedding ceremonies, and other musical events, where both local and Ottoman music was performed. Most of the time, the urban songs were improvised spontaneously at indoor venues, but also at weddings or in the streets, where people gathered on different occasions; the “new” urban songs with a Middle Eastern flavor and local inspiration were characterized by a clear formal structure; the style of improvisation very often involved changes to parts of the unwritten songs, such as the melody itself, and also the tempo or the rhythm of the verse. The musicians were expected to be able both to sing and to compose. In some towns like Shkodra, Elbasan or Berat the style was highly individual and the people living there could recognize the styles of the love songs written, for instance, by Palokė Kurti (1860–1920) or Isuf Myzyri. But there were other songwriters who occupied a sort of no-man’s-land and whose names gradually were forgotten. It was a natural process that the authorship of only a few songs could survive.6 However, more and more composers continued to produce new songs firmly rooted in their local idioms, which gradually became absorbed into tradition and subject to the changes of the urban process. The melodic characters of Albanian urban songs in general, closely connected to their poetical content, were various (see Chapter Four): some were deeply sentimental, some suggested birds singing, others transmitted cheerful and joyous emotions, and so on. These songs were created by local composers and were intended for local people so that, before the lyric singers of the 1930s started to popularize them, it was almost impossible for an urban traditional or amateur singer from Shkodra, for instance, to know or be able to sing a Korēare urban song, or vice versa. There were many reasons for this, such as dialect, mentality, temperament and means of communication. The art singers of the 1930s were the first missionaries to break the regional barriers and begin to sing urban songs beyond their native place. They initially introduced these songs to the Western musical world and as a result, the first compilation of Albanian urban songs, the Lyra Shqiptare (Albanian Lyre), transcribed by Pjetėr Dungu for Radio Tirana, appeared in 1940.7 People living in the towns very much liked the themes and episodes of the urban songs. They knew why the composer–singer wrote a particular song, to whom it was dedicated, and who, or what, had inspired it. These stories were hardly ever conveyed directly, but were nearly always presented in the guise of flowers and birds, customs and provincial morals; hence a stranger would catch only the surface of the story.8 Although oral traditions continued in Albanian settlements, such as those in Italy, Greece, Egypt, or Turkey, the inspiration behind these traditions came from Albania itself, where the songs were born, matured and survived. The term “survival” may also be used to imply that Albanian urban songs “survived” without being totally assimilated into Middle Eastern music. However, with the growth of towns, more and more Turkish influence penetrated the texture of the indigenous tunes. The rural areas preserved their traditional local modalities for a longer time, although in the last period of Ottoman rule even there (in the villages around important towns) the Middle Eastern mode was able both to penetrate and become absorbed by the local ancestral songs. The characteristics and origins of the songs, their relationship with Levantine art and with neighboring areas in the Balkans will be discussed in more detail below (see also Chapter Five). A strong factor in the survival of the oral tradition
was Albania’s mountainous territory. During a long history of invasions, the struggles of the Albanians against invaders
taught them how to resist, how to retreat into the mountains, how to survive physically, culturally and musically. The Albanians
escaped assimilation because they had strong reasons to survive: nationhood, language, culture and music. Nevertheless, it
is understandable that one can see in Albanian songs a Middle Eastern influence, just as five centuries before the influences
of the Roman and Byzantine empires would have been apparent. Here again this research will deal with what was created in Albanian
territory by Albanian composers, singers and writers. Transmission Each song contained in this book has its notated or audio example (see Explanation of Musical Examples and Notated and Recorded Songs in Order of the Examples at the end of the book and the accompanying CD) and all of them (notated and recorded) are grouped and examined according to their geographical regions. The urban songs sung by amateur urban singers will be presented mainly in audio versions (with some exceptions), while the AULS sung by art singers, which comprise the main subject of this study, are, as a rule, presented in notated versions. The first mode of transmission of the urban songs is oral transmission. All urban songs, firmly rooted in the urban idiom, were at one time composed by someone (the anonymity factor) but, as time passed, the most prominent of the orally transmitted songs were absorbed into the tradition and subjected to the changes of the urban music process. The second mode of transmission is the elaboration and transformation (by notation) of the urban tune or urban song into an urban lyric song by the composer–arranger. The third mode of transmission is the conscious and thoughtful version of the art composer. Urban songs existed only rarely in a notated form in the first half of the twentieth century. Palokė Kurti was the first Albanian composer to write down songs based on the musical tradition of his native town.9 In fact, before and during his time the aheng urban music of his native Shkodra, which was an unwritten music, was heavily under the influence of Turkish music (see Chapters Two and Five). The urban songs composed by Kurti, such as Example 3 and Example 1, are clear illustrations of, on the one hand, his association with the aheng songs and, on the other, his strong individuality as a composer of conviction with aspirations to create a new type of song, the Shkodrane urban song. Because of the enormous popularity of Kurti’s songs, it was possible for them to reenter the repertoire of the aheng ensembles, but of course in a more refined form than that of the simple tunes which had inspired them. The elaboration and transformation of the urban tune or song into lyric song by means of the notated accompaniment, which started seriously in the 1930s and has been enormously developed since then, is the second and dominant mode of transmission in this research. Albanian composer–arrangers such as Gjoka, Dungu, Kongoli, Kono and others collected urban tunes and songs from the traditional singers, provided piano or orchestral arrangements, and then performed to the audience in collaboration with art singers. There were also foreigners, such as Manojlovič (Manoylovich), Rampi, Ettore, and one or two others, who arranged and orchestrated urban songs for different requests and occasions. The practitioners of the third mode of transmission (creation by knowledgeable and skilful composers), such as Kurti, Xhuri, Myzyri, Kono and anonymous composers,10 were more concerned with developing the genre than with creating a new one. In fact, the Albanian art composers who created urban songs in a traditional urban style did not try to claim their songs as “new versions,” separate from the conventional popular perception of the urban song. While trying to introduce new ideas, attractive patterns, well-related modal harmonies and interesting ornamentations into the traditional style of the urban song, the art composers wanted their songs to be in the mainstream of the urban song flow. However, the process was circular: these “new versions” would probably have gained more prominence by being accepted by the people as anonymous popular songs rather than as original creations of art composers. Going back to the natural process of creation of urban song, the evolution of the Shkodrane song was significant. Broadly speaking, these modes of transmission represent three separate principles of creation from completely different starting points. The first, oral transmission, came from aheng music; the second is the elaboration and transformation from a generalized music for entertainment to more personal music with emphatic local traits (with or without notation); the third is the refined intellectual version of the art composer (involving formal structure, harmony, content and ornamentation). In the third mode of transmission, the use and borrowing of new expressive devices and formal structures from outside Albania were based on the local composers’ modest knowledge of Western music. It should be added that, apart from the above creative modes of live transmission, recordings also had an important role to play. In a narrower sense, these stages represent a circular process, by which the refined song was returned to the aheng repertory. Although Kurti had the indisputable merit of creating a new type of song which gained enormous popularity, his importance and his role in the history of Albanian urban song were probably destined to remain comparatively unknown. Few musicians know or even argue about the authenticity of Kurti’s songs, while ordinary people just enjoy his songs without caring who wrote them. These songs were adopted naturally, organically and happily into the repertoires of the new generations of professional urban singers. Thus, the circular process that was, in the narrow sense, Kurti’s transformation, was transmitted to future generations with constant modification and purging of external excesses, embracing more and more local color. The aheng ensembles were obviously affected by the new messages brought in by other cultivated urban composers like Kurti. Through perpetual oral modification and alteration, the original versions of Kurti’s songs have almost been lost, but this does not obscure their authorship.11 They still play a dual role as urban traditional music and as popular music: as urban traditional music, because as is widely recognized, it “is the product of a musical tradition that has been evolved through the process of oral transmission . . . which has originated with an individual composer and has subsequently been absorbed into the unwritten living tradition of a community”;12 as popular music, because it was originally taken from aheng music, but the consciously devised elements, such as the formal structure, words and melodic skeleton, have remained unchanged. “For it is the refashioning and recreation of the music by the community that gives it its folk [popular] character.”13 However, the Kurti phenomenon does not mean that the whole of Albanian urban song developed in the same way as the Shkodrane aheng song. Even Kurti’s songs, several of which were written down, have for some reason never been circulated as examples of the written urban song. None of the composer–arrangers of the other regions would have had the opportunity to see (during Kurti’s time) written urban songs from Shkodra. In Elbasan and Berat, urban song developed by other
means. Because it is situated just north of the river Shkumbin, the population of Elbasan belongs to the northern Geg ethnic
and linguistic group. The urban songs of this region are also affected by its geographical position, and their expression
tends to show the same melodic freedom adorned with melisma, appoggiaturas and slides, which is characteristic of, for instance,
the urban songs of Shkodra. Isuf Myzyri of Elbasan played a leading role in central Albania but he came from a different background than Kurti:
he was completely illiterate. He developed his career as a traditional violinist and urban composer in the period between
the two world wars (see Chapter Three). His falsetto singing in the top register (like a light tenor) not only made him known
among his fellow citizens but together with his beloved instrument, the violin, was the means by which he could be creative.
Sulė Dedej and Alfons Balliēi quote Myzyri’s words in their book
on him: “I try hard. It takes very long. When the inspiration comes, I write, first, the poem, and I work and work it
out in my head, then I learn it from memory, and, staying day and night with it in mind, when I feel it is time, I ask a well-read
friend to write it down for me.” Dedej and Balliēi continue:
Myzyri’s songs started as a first mode of transmission (the text and music were composed without being written down) and finished as a third, because other composer–arrangers wrote them down. Myzyri created his songs in the tradition of the urban and rural songs of his area, Elbasan, which he knew perfectly well from memory. His poetry, which was strongly affected by bejtexhi versification and the Ottoman-Turkish idiom, incorporated a few Turkish words, emphatic exclamations, sentimental cries and supplications for eternal life. Some of his melodies were also influenced by a Middle Eastern kind of sentimentality. However, his inspiration and intuition, sense of proportion and simplicity, softness and pensiveness, make his songs sound on the one hand very personal and on the other, affectionate. Although the urban songs of Korēa, in southern Albania, have a character all of their own, their origin is still somewhat mysterious. The urban songs of Shkodra and Elbasan, for example, though largely anonymous, still have their well-known representatives, such as Palokė Kurti and Isuf Myzyri, who were born and brought up and composed their songs in their native towns. In Korēa it is assumed that some of these elegant songs probably came from Janina in Epirus but, whatever their exact origin, they faithfully reflect some of the most typical characteristics of the Korēa district15 such as: (a) a sort of gravity and earnestness in its songs; (b) the dialect of the town of Korēa, which is characterized by its clear articulation of syllables and vowels, particularly those with the vowel ė (as in the English urban, see Chapter Four), as in this verse: O po ēkėrkon o i mjeri plak!/ Mos do pak bukė tė tė jap?/ Zonjėn desha zonjė-nė/ Buk’ e kam plot torbė-nė (O what are you asking for, you poor old man!/ Do you want me to give you some bread?/ The Lady I wanted, the Lady/ My bag is full of bread); (c) the “musical language” and the spirit of place, which is probably their most important attribute, because of their affinity with the rural parts of the region. The last factor is almost certainly the closest point of contact between the urban and rural song in Albania. Thus the urban songs of the Korēa district represent the heart of that modal idiom which is defined in this study as the southwestern Balkan mode. There follows a whole range of urban
songs which were picked up from the urban player, then harmonized, arranged, orchestrated and even performed (as accompaniments);
the majority of urban songs developed in this way. Finally, there are the versions by cultivated composers, represented by
some excellent illustrations, although limited in number in the 1930s, such as Examples 41 and 45. The first belongs to the
diatonic local modes and the second to the “Hicaz-type” modes. The composer of the first song, Kono, was from Korēa (although the song is known as Poradecare,
from the town Pogradec, near Korēa), while the second is known only as Kėng’ e Muēos (Muēo’s song).16
Other prominent examples of the third source are the anonymous songs, Examples 33,17 25A and 25B, and, of course,
Kurti’s songs, though the author is hardly ever credited with their authorship. The fact that until the 1930s the urban
songs were mainly transmitted orally and that after this period they started to be written down does not mean that their former
existence was not documented. One cannot rely only on notated examples to draw the conclusion that only a written song could
have constituted a real historical fact. Albanian survived until almost five hundred years ago as an unwritten language; Albanian
songs, ballads or legends had the privilege of surviving and evolving without being written down, as literature or art music
had to be; urban songs were born to live, die out or survive in their own way during the course of Albanian history. Towards a Classification In the lyric category of urban songs, which is divided into two branches (see tree diagram), the second one, love songs, is the object of this research. The love songs can be classified and surveyed according to: regions, content, character and mood, musico-poetic synthesis, melodic inclination towards different modalities, styles of singing, interpretation and analysis. They can be classified by the three main regions of Albania; north, central, and south. This is a natural division, following geographical differences in mentality and temperament (see Love Songs later in this chapter, and Chapter Five). According to their content they can be classified in two groups: (a) environmental and (b) songs of address and dedication; the environmental group is divided into two smaller subgroups: ambience and bird & flower symbols. The songs of ambience, as an aspect of the environmental type, form a subgroup which includes songs describing familiar surroundings and the incidents of everyday life, or impressions of the ambience. The songs of bird & flower symbols, which also derive from the environmental theme, may be inspired directly by flowers or birds; or, as often happens, human relations are compared in an allegorical or metaphorical way with nature’s live elements and creations. The songs of address and dedication are the most commonly encountered among the Albanian urban songs and are also greater in number than any other group or subgroup. Songs such as Example 24 (A, B and C), and many others, may be addressed directly to an unnamed person. This category of songs is closely related to meditative songs, from the group of character & mood (see below). There are a few songs whose content cannot be classified as a separate group, whose peculiarity consists in their titles and texts, which are connected with coins (valuable coins, such as those made of gold), using a simile comparing a girl’s beauty to the radiance of a coin (see below, Table of AUS and AULS according to their content). The urban songs can be classified by character & mood into two main groups: cheerful and meditative. The cheerful songs are usually metric. From the metric type, the humorous songs derive. Metric songs usually have a fixed formal structure and a measured meter. The asymmetrical 7/8 meter is one of those most commonly used, and the rhythmical accentual motion and cheerful atmosphere of the song (in spite of being written in the minor key) are often emphasized by a glowing energy (see Example 10), or by a dancelike rhythm (see Example 35). The latter has lively accents on the main beats of the limping meter (7/8), making it sound “like an ordinary pretty dance-tune.”18 In the songs of cheerful character, Examples
16 and 7, the marked rhythmical accents are usually matched with the phrasal expression and organization (the slurs show the
phrasal shaping). All the metric songs discussed above are in 7/8 meter, but songs in the ordinary metric unit (2/4) also
occur, such as Example 48, or in an ordinary metric unit combined with an asymmetrical one (3/4 and 7/8), such as Example
40A. The accents in the last two cases occur on the main beats of the ordinary metric unit or on the primary beats of the
asymmetrical groupings; for the illustration of the latter combination, see bars 43–49 of Example 40A. Metric
songs are found all over Albania; sometimes they are characterized by ornamentation and agility or are in the form of bravura
pieces. A song from Shkodra in north Albania, Example 2A and 2B (see version A, bars 17–18, and version B, bars 15–18),
clearly illustrates this characteristic. Compound meters such as 6/8 and 9/8 are seldom found among the urban songs (based
on modal systems), and the rhythmical characteristics of the latter, such as the evocative and pastoral, dancing and “bursting
out” figures, are adapted to the 5/8 or 7/8 meter. Humorous songs, usually deriving from metric songs,
are those which comprise or describe humorous circumstances through the use of similes and metaphors. Such songs are closely
connected with their texts, and their music creates a favorable ground for an amusing situation. The illustrations 48 and
42 are obvious examples of a farcical and humorous text. In most of the humorous songs, it is not the whole poem which contains
the farcical element but only a phrase, a figure of speech or a simile which might create a cheerful atmosphere. The spirited
mood is often maintained by exaggerations which, apart from their occurrence in the text, may be assisted by all sorts of
gesticulations and, particularly, by dialect idioms. In looking at urban songs I have noticed that the concept of humor differs
from north to south Albania; the outgoing delivery of a cheerful Shkodrane song is also emphasized by an expressed gesticulation,
whereas a Korēare song, probably because it lacks this exuberance, relies for its effect on the farcical text. The meditative
songs (often treated in a bel canto style), which derive from the songs of address and dedication,19
have their subtypes, such as reminiscence and narration (where a story is the principal feature of the song).
This division cannot be rigidly applied because the types are frequently closely associated with or derived from each other,
so that they may overlap. An example of the reminiscence songs, which are frequently very emotional, would be Example
4; it deals with that past “which hardly can return again.”20 The meditative songs of a “bel
canto” approach are those whose style of lyricism stresses beauty of tone and the legato line. Examples of these
types of songs are numerous all over Albania, but I will quote here only three, one from each region, north (Shkodra), central
(Elbasan) and south (Korēa): Examples 4, 24 and 45. The urban songs can, according to their nature, be classified according
to their musico-poetic synthesis; in this section under Poetry and Music in AUS and AULS, the following
topics will be discussed: poetic meter, versification in the AULS texts, musical meter, musico-poetic synthesis, melody and
its imagery, harmony and its imagery, and rhythmic imagery. The urban songs can be classified according to their modal inclination
towards the Ottoman practices or towards the southwestern Balkan modes (see Chapter Five). They can also be classified according
to their styles of singing (see Chapter Three) and their interpretation (see Chapter Six). Table of AUS and AULS According to Their Content Environmental Ambience“Through that Orchard” Oh n’at’ fush’ t’mejdanit “The North Wind” Fryn veriu “A Lass Is Coming Out of the Hammam” Del nji vashė prej hamami “The Stream of Our Village” Kroj i fshatit tonė “The Night’s Gone” Iku nata “When the Girl Goes to the Market” Pėr njė ditė kur del goca nė pazar “For Many Days and Years now” Tash sa dit’e mot “At the Time of That Storm” N’at zaman t’asaj furije “The Early Dawn” O sabah i parė “The Spring Is Saying” Thotė pranvera “The Cobbles in the Street” Edhe gurėt e sokakut “When the Husband Comes Home from the Dairy” Kur mė vjen burri nga stani EnvironmentalBird “I Go and Come Back to You swiftly Like a Bird” Shkoj e vij flut’rim si zogu “O You Unhappy Nightingale” O bilbil ore i mjerė “The Kumrija is Singing” Kndon kumrija “The Nightingale Is Singing” Seē kėndon bilbili “The Partridge Locked in the Cage” Moj fėllanxė qi rri nė kafaz “Nightingale, You Poor Nightingale” Bilbil, o i mjeri bilbil “How Much You Have Grown, My Little Bird” Zogė ku mė qėnke rriturė Flower “Zare, the Flower” Zare trandafile “O You Lovely Flowering Rose” As aman-o trėndafili ēelės “O You Lovely Flower” As aman moj lule “May You Flowers Blossom” Ēelni ju moj lule “You, At the Plum-Tree, I, At the Plum-Tree” Ti nė kumbull,
un’ nė kumbull Address and Dedication “Cursed Be This Love” Kjo dashtnia kjoft mallkue “In the Middle of Your Forehead Midis ballit m’ke nji pikė You Have a Mole” “May God Save Your Beauty” Marshalla bukuris s’ate “I Am Your Lover” Dashtnuer t’u bana “That Was My Destiny” Pėr mue paska ken kismet “In Praise of Your Charming Beauty” Kenke nur’i bukurisė “Alas! What Has Happened to the World” Vaj, si kenka ba dyrnjaja “Put Your Hand on Mine” Ma ven dorėn pėrmbi dorė “O Your Beautiful Eyes” O moj sy larushe “Two Fingers Above the Eyebrow” Dy gisht pėrmbi vetull “Move Over, You Branch of Hazelnut” As u gremise moj lejthatė “I Have Been in Love with You” Un’o ty moj tė kam dasht “Looking from the Window” Dola n’penxhere “Where Are You Going, You Little Girl?” O ku po shkon moj goc’e vogėl? “Please Lift Your Headscarf” As ma ngre shaminė “Little Halit” Haliti i vogėl “What Have You Told Someone” Po ti ē’ka i
ke thanė dikuj Coin “You Are Like a Precious Coin” Si dukati i vogėl je “You Are Tiny and Beautiful Like a Gold Coin” Moj e vogėl si florini “The Coin I Gave to You” Metelikun t’a kam falė Love Songs Love songs, the predominant category of urban songs, are widespread throughout Albania. The different circumstances in which the love songs were written represent different environments, concepts and epochs. The spoken dialect or “musical dialect” plays an enormous role in defining the different musical temperaments in the south, central and northern regions. Thus, love songs represent regional musical idioms which are highly distinctive and are also guarded with a fanatical devotion by the local people. The strong question which emerges when analyzing the urban song is why the love song occupies such a predominant place. Was it because Albanians, being Mediterranean people, considered love as one of the most inspiring or exciting themes of their everyday lives? Or was it because love was a forbidden subject due to the social pressures of the provincial mentality? The second factor was probably the reason for their popularity. In the second half of the eighteenth century and at the beginning of the nineteenth, Albania was dominated, within the Ottoman Empire, by two powerful feudal pa¦alık-s, those of Bushati in the north and of Ali Tepelena in the south.21 The feudal mentality persisted down to the twentieth century, and regional musical idioms were preserved along with it. The traditional cultivators of love songs willingly collaborated with the art musicians of the 1930s by giving them information and practical support. The composer–arrangers were the mediators between the urban professional, semiprofessional, traditional or amateur musicians and the art singers, but direct contact between singers and urban instrumentalists also took place. The creation of a new genre, of a more homogeneous nature, began. It is important to stress that the newly developing genre gave no sign of attempting to overshadow the traditional urban song (the latter was established and active, and the townsmen loved it). On the contrary, the traditional urban song and its musicians were the ideal foundation on which to build the new edifice. Thus, the pioneers of the 1930s suggested that, based on the Albanian urban song (AUS), the new genre should be transformed into the Albanian urban lyric song (AULS). The gradual homogenization of the urban lyric song was helped by the advent of the radio and gramophone, and commercial music had also started to appear in Albania by this time. Middle Eastern devices, such as rhythmically free melodic lines, gradually became more regulated. In the nineteenth century and at
the beginning of the twentieth, it was quite normal in Albania for the composer to be inspired by a woman or to want to dedicate
a song to her, but he could not do so directly. The majority of these songs were dedicated to forbidden love. In Shkodra,
for instance, Palokė Kurti dedicated some of his love songs to an unnamed woman, but everybody guessed who she was. In Elbasan,
also, it was of course impossible to create love songs dedicated to female beauty, because a woman’s beauty was a taboo
subject and could not be sung about directly to her. Not only the “Western ear and mode of thought” would catch
the meaning from an Albanian description of the perils of love or the lovers’ image, but an Albanian citizen would probably
do the same. Massano, an Italian, comments: “[An Albanian woman] should remain a dove at home, a nightingale in the
cage, a stirrer of desires; should keep her face chastely covered with a headscarf, lift it only for her lover―of course―but
lift it to look at his face, which should be as beautiful as a pomegranate.”22 And again:
Because of these restrictions, the songs compensated through the music for emotions which could not be expressed in the words; there are excellent examples of real love expressed in the songs of the towns of Shkodra and Elbasan. There are also love songs which may originally have been about pedophilia (dylber); over the years their origins were forgotten (if they had ever been remembered). In Berat, distinctive results were achieved which created a prototype of the love song of this area. In Korēa, the love songs are divided into two different types: one is a type of song based on modal grounds and is a product of the southwestern Balkans. This type was conceived in a more gallant way and was delivered in a more reserved manner or a drawing-room style. Seeds of another type of song from the Korēa area, the Korēare Distinctive Song, came from outside Albania and when planted in Albanian soil produced a type of song well known all over the Albanian world: this unique type is sung at both southern and northern Albanian wedding tables, parties, tours, evening rests and so on. The love songs did not derive directly from sociological and historical contexts; that is, they did not project the political situation as did the historic and patriotic songs, but they became the center around which the urban singers and composer–arrangers orbited. They also became a part of cultural life and the focus of nationalistic feeling, ironically by allowing the people to “forget” the political situation in the pleasure of listening to Albanian urban song as it began its transformation into art song. The urban lyric songs of the 1930s in fact joined East and West in Albania; that is, they brought Western influence to a country which had been more influenced in the previous five hundred years by Turkey and other Eastern cultures. They therefore represent and reflect the most recent blending of East and West in Albania, which again became, in musical and cultural terms, the “crossroads” of East and West. The texts of the majority of urban songs are love poems.24 These texts, with rare exceptions, express desperation, sorrow or anxiety, but the music does not always match the mood of the words. In spite of the dominance in urban songs of minor keys or anguished words, their tunes convey, in the most thoughtful and inspired examples, a generous message and a pleasant atmosphere. Their principal themes refer to the disappointment of love which often resulted from the rigidity of Albanian society. The composer–singers who created the love songs were primarily men. Women did not appear in public either as creators or as singers; they sang mainly indoors, hence the allusions to “the partridge in the cage” and “the poor nightingale.” Men, however, could sing at general gatherings, for example in the traditional coffee houses or, even more importantly, at urban festivities, among which the dasma (wedding) was the most significant. The male composer–singers generally sang in falsetto, making it possible for the song to encompass a relatively wide vocal range. This range was later adopted by trained female sopranos, particularly where there were long top notes adorned with trills or blossoming and moving into free ornamental passages, usually in the first part of the song, the strophe. Usually the composer–singer also wrote the verses (Kurti, Myzyri, Muēo and others), like minstrels or canta-autori. Thus, the song was born from one single inspiration, so that the text was appropriate to the melody. This is the way that the folksingers (bards) and bejtexhi-s25 create, and they played an essential role, particularly in the development of urban songs. The best models of these types of songs are characterized by a genuine local inspiration and sentiment. However, in the central and north Albanian love songs of the aheng type, the Middle Eastern influence is obvious in the song’s linear melodic flow, curved melodic movements and mosaic-like decorations, melismas, grace notes, sequences, trills, portamenti and other ornamentation which embellish the song; the Middle Eastern impact is apparent also in the exotic features in the interpretation. Almost the whole of Albanian life, particularly in the towns, was strongly influenced by the Turkish mode of thought and activity. The foreign elements of the culture such as houses, food, dress and decorative art were Middle Eastern, and these impinged on the lives of the majority of people in the towns and also in the villages around them. The songs were inspired by and originated from this environment. Of a different local inspiration and sentiment are
the love songs from the area between the lower Shkumbin and Vjosa rivers, and there are even closer similarities between those
from Janina and Korēa. These songs differ from those which have a direct Turkish influence, and most of them have many things
in common with the Eastern element in Greek songs. However, A. L. Lloyd writes of them:
He assumes that:
These remarks require qualification: (a) These songs expressed the spirit of their communities through individual local composers, and they have survived in the urban repertory because they are old and their roots go back far into local urban traditions. (b) Albanian urban songs, whatever the origin of the mode on which they are based, are still sincere, truthful and loved by the people because they evolved, most of the time, unconsciously or through the spontaneous inspiration of urban-song composers. (c) Among the love songs, those of Shkodra take a special place. Palokė Kurti, a Roman Catholic, was one of the main representatives of the Shkodran aheng, together with his Muslim fellow-citizens, such as Kasem Xhurri (b. 1830s) “who stylized and Shkodranised 60 aheng songs,”27 Molla Hysen Dobraēi and Sait Hoxha (1863–1950), and other Roman Catholic composers, such as Mark Kranjani (b. 1840s) and Shtjefėn Jakova (b. 1860s). Kurti dedicated a great deal of his efforts to bringing new ideas to the musical life of his native town. It cannot really be said of Palokė Kurti that he wanted to please anybody “for the sake of peace and profit.”28 There were occasions when a composer dedicated a march, for example, “to the glorious and invincible Ottoman army,” but this should not be understood as a gesture of hypocrisy or profit seeking. His actions should be seen rather as a means of survival, particularly when his intellectual career was in jeopardy; this is a well-known phenomenon under the authoritarian regimes. (d) The Islamization of more than half of the country might explain Lloyd’s conclusion, but Ottoman influence was noticeable from the later nineteenth century onwards in many other countries, not just in the Balkans. When a particular Middle Eastern element was used to convey, for instance, a sensual message, this message certainly created an erotic atmosphere; these sorts of song occur in many urban parts of Albania. I have encountered some of them in the town of Berat; they do not represent the best emotional and ethical qualities of the Albanian love song. In urban love songs of real quality, Middle Eastern features do not convey a sensual or a perverse message. There are urban songs from all over Albania, especially from Berat, where Levantine expression clearly enriches the value and the quality of the song. (e) In Kurti’s town of Shkodra, the different religious climate and more advanced political thinking brought about real understanding of nationalistic objectives. Palokė Kurti was interned by the Turks because of his Albanian nationalistic activity. He and his colleagues created excellent models of urban songs and, particularly, love songs, admittedly often with a Middle Eastern flavor, but with a genuine and very personal inspiration, based on Balkan tradition and particularly on the Shkodrane urban tradition. Margaret Masson Hardie Hasluck (1885-1948) By Stocker-Hardie Hasluck Classicist, folklorist, geographer, linguist, epigrapher, and archaeologist was born June 18, 1885 in Aberdeenshire,
Scotland and died October 18, 1948 in Dublin, Ireland. Margaret Masson Hardie began her primary education at Elgin Academy in Morayshire and then attended Aberdeen
university where she received a first-class in Classical Honors (M.A. 1907). After passing entrance exams, Hardie was accepted
into Newnham College, Cambridge, in 1907. In addition to entering Cambridge with a Fullerton scholarship, she was College
Scholar in 1907 and Arthur Hugh Clough Scholar in 1910. Eleanor Sidgwick, one of the founders of Newnham College in 1871,
was principal during Hardie’s tenure. Fellow students included M. E. Holland, Ka Cox, D.Lamb, Nora Kershaw and Hope
Merrlees. The economic historian Eileen Power, of Girton College, tutored Newnham students during Hardie’s residence
at Cambridge. Also present at Newnham were the Cornfords, Frances and Francis, who were married in 1909 at the beginning of
her third year of studies. Hardie lived in Clough Hall, at that time under the supervision of Jane Ellen Harrison, who had
returned to Cambridge in 1898 when she received the First ResearchFellowship from Newnham College. Hardie was taught by Harrison,
who was resident lecturer in the primitive origins of Greek Religion and also the director of archaeological studies
in Part II of the Classical Tripos. Harrison devoted a great deal of energy to the training of her students and apparently
formed close working relationships with many of them. It is not obvious that there were close bonds between Harrison and Hardie
as there certainly were between Harrison, Jesse Stewart, and Hope Merrlees, but in a letter dated October 30, 1912, Harrison
did ask Gilbert Murray to advise her how to deal with Hardie’s difficulties at the British School at Athens: Hardie’s
request to participate in an excavation had been sidetracked because she was not officially a Cambridge graduate. In general
it is also clear that Harrison exerted considerable influence on the intellectual development of her students: for the Tripos
she recommended they familiarize themselves with Robertson Smith’s Religion of the Semites, Maine’s Ancient Law,
and Oldenberg’s Kultus and Mythus. The influence of the Cambridge “Ritualist School,” which combined archaeology,
anthropology, and ethnology, and in which Jane Ellen Harrison was a major player, can be seen in Hardie’s later work
on contemporary Albanian folklore, ritual and myth. Hardie finished her formal education at Cambridge University in 1911 with
first class honors in both parts of the Classical Tripos. She did not take a degree fromCambridge as women were not eligible
to receive them until 1948. Because of this, she also was not recognized as a member of the university, a fact which later
caused problems for her at the British School at Athens by the vice-chancellor of Cambridge University. With the aid of a
Wilson Travelling Fellowship, she proceeded to Athens and there attended the British School in 1911-12 as School Student of
the year, the first woman to receive this honor. Fellow students at the school in 1911 included the eminent student of British
literature. M. W. W. Tillyard. historian A. J. Toynbee, and archaeologists M. S. Thompson and A. J. B. Wace. In the summer
of 1911 it was Hardie’s intention to participate in excavations sponsored by the British School, at ancient Akanthos
(modern Turkish Datcha) near Knidos, but there were immediate objections in the Managing Committee of the British School that
the participation of women in excavations within the Ottoman Empire was inappropriate. In the event, however, although a permit
was received, the outbreak of warprevented excavation, and Hardie instead accompanied Sir William Ramsey to his excavations
at Pisidian Antioch. Soon after, under his supervision, she drafted a report on the shrine of Mź n Askaėnos, then recently
discovered by Ramsey, which was published in the following year as “The Shrine of Mź n Askaėnos at Pisidian Antioch,”
in the Journal of Hellenic Studies 32, 1912, 111-150. Also in 1911, Hardie made a special study of the topography and inscriptions
of Izmir, intending subsequently to examine relevant testimonia firsthand, a goal never realized because of the outbreak of
Greek revolts in Turkish islands of the Aegean. Her investigations did, however, lead to the publication of an article, “Dionysus
at Smyrna,” in the Annual of the British School at Athens 19, 1912- 13, 89-94. The following year Hardie married Frederick
William Hasluck, Assistant Director (1911-15) and Librarian (1906-15) of the British School and a fellow Cambridge student. As a wedding present, Hardie chose a visit to Konya (ancient Iconium) from the options offered her by her husband,
and the couple spent the spring of 1913 there together. (As a result of this visit, Frederick became interested in the interplay
of Christianity and Islam within the Turkish Empire, a subject which occupied him for the rest of his life and later had a
great influence on the direction of Margaret’s research.) The aslucks were based in Athens and, over the next
four years, had the opportunity to travel widely together in the southwest Balkans: it was these travels that first sparked
Hardie’s passionate nterest an and love of the Balkans.Hasluck resigned his post at the British School in 1915,
but the couple remained in Athens. After the outbreak of World War I they worked together at the British Legation and assisted
British wartime intelligence operations. But in 1916 life took a tragic turn and Frederick became seriously ill. Margaret
accompanied her husband to Switzerland where he entered a tuberculosis sanatorium, only to die four years later on February
22, 1920. After Frederick’s death Hasluck-Hardie moved to England and began the difficult and painstaking task of editing
his three uncompleted books: Athos and Its Monasteries, 1924; Letters on Religion and Folklore, 1926; a compilation of correspondence
with R. M. Dawkins; and Christianity and Islam Under the Sultans, 1929. In England she became a member of the Geographical
Society in 1924, and later wrote articles for its journal, assuming her husband’s surname and subsequently publishing
as Margaret Hasluck. The two volumes of Christianity and Islam, born of their honeymoon journey to Konya, took four years
to complete and brought about a redirection of her scholarly interests. Hasluck also traveled widely during this time (in
the 20s) and embarked on new projects of her own in western Macedonia, as a Wilson Travelling Fellow of Aberdeen University
(1921-23; 1926-28), and in Albania as a Leverhulme Research Fellow (1935-37). She became a friend and correspondent of Edith
Durham. In the process of editing her husband’s work Hasluck acquired a wealth of information about contemporary Balkan
folklore and religious practices. This legacy is evident in her future ethnographical research on topics as varied as tribal
laws, gypsy society, and Albanian vendettas and magic. In the next two decades of her life, she developed as a folklorist,
linguist and ethnographer, reveling particularly in the study of contemporary Albanian peasant life.Hasluck first crossed
the border into Albania in 1919 while doing anthropological research in Macedonia (J. Amery, Sons of the Eagle: A Study in
Guerilla War, 1948, 27).Later, after extensive traveling in the southern Balkans, she decided to set up a permanentbase in
Albania and built a substantial house in the picturesque town of Elbasan, where she lived for 13 years. Elbasan, medieval
in atmosphere and oriental in character, with its narrow cobbled streets and tall cypress trees, was Hasluck’s home
until 1939, when, because of her intelligence work during World War I, she was forced by the Italian invasion and the flight
of King Zog to depart from Albania for good. Margaret’s years in Elbasan were pleasant and fruitful. A constant stream
of visitors, bother foreign and Albanian, appear to have made their way to Margaret’s house. Travelers, like Bernard Newman (Albanian Back-Door, 1936, 209), who passed through Albania often commented on
the “English-speaking person in Elbasan whose fame has penetrated far beyond her retreat.” Newman noted that margaret
was a legend throughout Albania in addition to being the world’s foremost authority on Albanian folk-lore and theAlbanian
language; she was also a “definite personality” of great culture who wielded “ a great influence in Elbasan.”
The Albanian government was insistent that Hasluck should have a soldier as a personal bodyguard; although she repeatedly
argued to the contrary and tried to refuse their offer, she finally accepted the guard but used him as a butler: her “bodyguard,”
when Newman was present, “handled round cherry wine with the dignity of a Jeeves,” (p. 210). It is clear from
his and others’ accounts that Hasluck genuinely cared about the well-being of all classes of Albanians and women in
particular as well as thewelfare of the country as a whole.Several notable scholars who encountered Mrs. Hasluck commented
on theirexperiences with her. Patrick Lee Fermour remembers her as a stately woman of immense energy, kindness and good humor
who was wont to dress in long Victorian style skirts (personal communication). He also noted her “reckless courage”
and fierce determination that was manifested in her living alone as a single woman in an extremely foreign, masculine culture.
N. G. L. Hammond describes her as: “a very warm-hearted, compassionate person who helped many peasant families and retained
their affections.” He encountered her in a monastery in Elbasan, where she invited him to spend the night and listen
with her to a troubadour she was expecting to arrive (“Travels in Epirus and South Albania Before World War II ,”
Ancient World 8, 1983, 26-27). R. M. Dawkins notes her “unbounded energy” and her “sound and solid manner
of work” (“Obituary,” in Folk-Lore 60, 1949, 291-292). Hasluck is also fondly recalled in memoirs of SOE
British soldiers sent into Albania during World War II. One of them, D. Smiley, remembers her as “an elderly lady, the
widow of a famous archaeologist, with greying hair swept back into a bun and a pink complexion with bright blue eyes….Full
of energy and enthusiasm, she was totally dedicated to her beloved Albania” (Albanian Assignment 1984, 8). The years
in Albania were academically fruitful and the research Margaret conducted ultimately appeared in scores of professional publications.
The targets of her investigations were admirably diverse, including the evil eye; the basilopita (New Year’s Cake);
witchcraft; the Albanian vendetta; Christian influence on the religion of Moslems resident in Greece; the practice of Islamic
religion in Albania; gypsies, Vlachs, and dervish sects in Macedonia, Albanian and Serbia; ancient Greek survivals in Contemporary
Albanian society (e.g., the bride price and the Oedipus myth); and the body of Albanian tribal law known as the Canon of Lek
Dukagjin. Amidst such a flurry of productivity she managed to collect several hundred folk-tales “from school-children
in various parts of Albania” (S. E. Mann, 1950, 80), and so authored the first English- Albanian grammar and reader
(Kendine Anglisht-Shqip, 1932) which included 16 Albanian folk-stories presented in both English and Albanian and two grammars
with vocabularies. She was assisted in this last endeavor by the distinguished Albanian scholar and patriot Lef Nosi, who
also resided in Elbasan. Nosi “had taken a prominent part in the creation of an independent Albania after the First
World War” (D. Smiley, Albanian Assignment, 1984, 9)” and during her time in Albania, Hasluck developed a particularly
close friendship with him. In addition to articles published in scholarly journals, Hasluck also wrote piecesfor the general
public that were published in popular periodicals such as British Weekly,Discovery, Nature, and Everywoman. A multitude of
newspaper articles she authored appeared in The Times, Illustrated London News, and the Manchester uardian. She served from
1932-36 as the Albanian correspondent for the periodical Great Britain and the East. During her residency in Albania, Hasluck
also wrote numerous book reviews fora variety of publications that dealt with the southern Balkans. After her husband’s death and her departure from the British School, little of Hasluck’s research
was directly concerned with archaeology. Important exceptions are three articles published in The Geographical Journal, 87,
1936, 338-347,: “A HistoricalSketch of the Fluctuations of Lake Ostrovo in West Macedonia,” and “Causes
of the Fluctuation in the Level of Lake Ostrovo, West Macedonia,” 88, 1937, 446-457. What isextraordinary about these
studies of the modern Lake Vegoriti is the confidence she displays in weaving together into a convincing study of landscape
evolution diverse strands of evidence drawn from archaeological field survey and xcavation, from the accounts of earlier travelers
and ancient sources, and from on-the-spot observations of topography. World War II brought a sudden interruption to Hasluck’s studies. She left Albania in the spring of 1939
when Mussolini annexed the country. She served first in the British Embassy in Athens (1939-41) where she established, and
was then advisor for, the British Section D operatives who comprised the “Albanian office.” Her job was to make
contact with Albanians who would assist the British in resisting an Axis takeover in the Balkans. In particular, she was charged
with opening up communication with the Tosks in southern Albania. She was well qualified for work in the “Albanian office”
since few “foreigners can ever have known Albania and the Albanians as thoroughly as she did” (R. M. Dawkins,
1949, 292). In spite of her efforts, however, much of the British organization promoting revolt in Albania collapsed after
the Germans overwhelmed the Yugoslav army in the spring of 1941. In the summer of 1941, after conditions became unsafe in
Athens, Hasluck replaced Colonel Frank Stirling in Constantinople. For almost two years “the responsibilities of observing
the Albanian situation, keeping touch with the exiles and seeking to re-establish communications with Albania devolved upon
her alone” (J. Amery, Sons of the Eagle: A Study in Guerilla War, 1948, 48. Among the British, she alone remained convinced
that a revolt against the Axis invaders was being planned, and virtually single-handedly she kept interest in the country
alive by dispatching to British HQ in Cairo a continuous series of telegrams, memoranda, and reports on activities and conditions
in Albania. Hasluck then was transferred to Cairo where she served as Special Operations Executive expert on Albania (1942-45).
Among other duties, when it finally became clear towards the end of 1942 that guerilla bands had formed in the mountains,
she assisted British Military Intelligence by briefing British liaison officers dispatched to Albania to direct this resistance
against the Germans. Hasluck was in charge of the production of propaganda leaflets dropped into Albania. In addition, she
gave British infiltrators an intensive course in Albanian folklore, customs, and psychology (ibid., p. 50). She was fondly
referred to as “Fanny” by the British members of Section D, later Force 133, and the men she trained; D. Smiley
affectionately named his Albanian mule “Fanny” after her (Albanian Assignment, 1984, 8. She also wrote personal
notes of introduction in both Albanian and English for soldiers sent to Albania. One such example reads as follows: Friends
of mine in Albania Lt. Hibbert who brings you this letter is anEnglishman and my friend. As you received me well when I asked
you fora pretty folk-story or questioned you about the Bektashis or the Kanun ofLek the Great, please receive this Englishman
also, like the hospitablepeople you are. Friends that I never forget, I send you my best wishes (R. Hibbert, Albania’s National Liberation Struggle, 1991, 88). Hasluck remained behind in Cairo when Force 133 moved to Bari in April of1944, but kept close touch with the
Albanian section throughout the remainder of the war. Diagnosed with leukemia in 1945, she left Cairo for Cyprus hoping that
her health would improve in the more favorable climate. It was here that she learned of the death of her close friend, Lef
Nosi, who, for his participation in the Regency Council during the German occupation, was one of the first to be executed
by the new communist government of Enver Hoxha in February of 1945. Margaret Masson Hardie Hasluck — Bibliography 1912 “The Shrine of Men Askaenos at Pisidian Antioch,” JHS 32, 111-150. 1912-1913 “Dionysos at Smyrna,” BSA 19, 89-94. 1923 “The Significance of Greek Personal Names,” Folk-Lore 83, 149-154; 249-251. 1924 “Christian Survivals among Certain Moslem Subjects of Greece,” The Contemporary Review, 125, 225-232. 1925 “The Nonconformist Moslems of Albania,” The Contemporary Review 127, 599-606. 1926 “A Lucky Spell from a Greek Island,” Folk-Lore 37, 195-196. 1927 “The Basil-Cake of the Greek New Year,” Folk-Lore 38, 143-177. 1929 “An Unknown Turkish Shrine in Western Macedonia,” The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 289-296. 1929 “Measurements of Macedonian Men,” Biometrika 21, 322-36. 1930 “Traditional Games of the Turks,” in Jubilee Congress of the Folk-Lore Society, September 19 – September 25, 1928, Papers and Transactions. 1932 Kė ndime Englisht-Shqip or Albanian-English Reader: Sixteen Albanian Folk-Stories Collected and Translated, with Two Grammars and Vocabularies, Cambridge. 1932 “Physiological Paternity and Belated Birth in Albania,” MAN: A Monthly Record of Anthropological Science 32, 53-54. 1933 “Bride-Price in Albania: A Homeric Parallel,” MAN: A Monthly Record of Anthropological Science 33, 191-195. 1936 “A Historical Sketch of the Fluctuations of Lake Ostrovo in West Macedonia,” The Geographical Journal 87, 338-347. 1936 “The Archaeological History of Lake Ostrovo in West Macedonia,” The Geographical Journal 88, 448-456. 1937 “Causes of the Fluctuations in the Level of Lake Ostrovo, West Macedonia, The Geographical Journal 89, 446-457. 1938 “The Gypsies of Albania,” Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society 17 (3 Series), 49-61; 110-122. 1939 “Couvade in Albania,” MAN: A Monthly Record of Anthropological Science 39, 18-20. 1939 “The Sedentary Gypsies of Metzoro,” Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society 17 (3 1948 “Firman of A. H. 1013-14 (A.D. 1604-5) Regarding Gypsies in the Western Balkans,” Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society 27 (3 1949 “Oedipus Rex in Albania,” Folk-Lore, 60, 340-348. Reprinted in 1995, Oedipus: A folklore Casebook, L. Edmunds and A. Dundes (Eds.). 1954 The Unwritten Law in Albania, J. H. Hutton (Ed.) Cambridge. Books edited by Margaret M. Hasluck 1924 Athos and its Monasteries, London and New York. 1926 Letters on Religion and Folklore, London. 1929 Christianity and Islam under the Sultans, Vols. I and II, Oxford. Select Bibliography Amery, Julian, Sons of the Eagle: A Study in Guerilla War, London 1948. Davies, “Trotsky,” Illyrian Venture, London, 1952. Dawkins, R. M. “Margaret Masson Hasluck,” Folk-Lore 60, 1949, 291-292. Hibbert, Reginald, Albania’s National Liberation Struggle: The Bitter Victory, London 1991. Mann, S. E. “Margaret Masson Hasluck,” Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society 29, 1950, 80. Newman, Bernard, Albanian Back-Door, London 1936. Peacock, Sandra J., Jane Ellen Harrison: The mask and the Self, New Haven, 1988. Shils, Edward and Carmen Becker (Eds.), Cambridge Women: Twelve Portraits, Cambridge 1936. Smiley, David, Albanian Assignment, London 1964. Stewart, Jesse, Jane Ellen Harrison: A Portrait from Letters, London 1959. Waterhouse, Helen, The British School at Athens: The First Hundred Years, London 1986. i Cairo wrote an eloquent apologia for the Regency government. She wrote: The lines of the government’s policy would meet with our warm approval if we were not at war with the country whose armed forces now occupy Albania…They have further appealed to the youthful to avoid civil war and to preserve intact the Albania with which they, the elderly men in the government have done but which they, the young, are to inherit tomorrow. Indeed, these elderly men must be greatly pained as they watch the chaos into which the guerilla movement has plunged the country. They were born to the oppressions of decadent Turkish rule. They grew up to struggle for independence, many like the Butka brothers and the late Idhomen Kosturi by guerilla warfare, a few like Lef Nosi and the late Prenk Pasha of Mirditė by years of imprisonment, internment and exile. Independence achieved, they set their faces, Moslems as much as Christians, toward the west and they won for themselves and helped the younger generation to win a certain degree of western civilisation. They rejoiced to see their successive governments deprive the population of the weapons that only served to preserve their medieval barbarity. Now they see the clock put back to 1920 or earlier, arms again in every man’s land, human life counted as naught, and anarchy rampant. They would be less than human if they did not ask if the benefit to the Allied war effort which accrues from the run-away tactics of the guerillas is worth the political and economic damage to the country which they cause (R. Hibbert, Albania’s National Liberation Struggle, 1991, 64- 65). [MSJ] |
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