The Editor’s Letter
I was based in London during lockdown. And when it was lifted, my family and I traveled to Greece, to an island where my husband has been going since he was a boy. It’s basic here; there’s barely any hot water, certainly no air-conditioning. By day the cicadas hammer out their battery-gun drawl; at night dogs bark in the village. We wondered endlessly about how ethical it was to come at all. The Greeks have had few cases of COVID-19, and there is something distinctly unsettling about posing a threat in human form. At night I lay in bed and wondered about my place in the world, my ability to tread upon it with good conscience. The island itself, however, feels the same. It’s a place Greeks go; outsiders have always…