An insignificant, unarmed, ungraceful, and weak woman is offered as our jester because she does not know she is tragic.

By laughing, she mocks herself and deceives us so that we do not mock her. With her life, she defends another woman, punished, who refuses to defend herself: her mother.

In her journey (her entire life), from pre-war times to the present day, she experiences the Occupation, refuge in the capital, begging, disguises herself and her life. She will never understand that, by defending her mother, she accompanies her permanently humiliated homeland, in which she lives in exile, telling jokes. Some may even think she symbolizes her country (their country), because both have suffered similar humiliations, have a similar non-future, and make jokes.

To avoid becoming a target for shooting, she will diminish and ridicule herself. She will prepare for injuries by self-harming preventively every day. But no one will stone her. Because no one noticed her existence.

And because she has no one of her own (even the author of this book abandons her), the woman finds refuge in the reader of the book for companionship and consolation. Because no one can explain a book. Not even its author. But everyone can read it.

The Mother of the Dog was first published in 1990 and has since moved not only the Greek reading public but also lovers of good literature abroad. The much-translated masterpiece by Pavlos Matesis was praised by domestic and global critics and was included by the London publishing house Quintet Publishing in the 1001 books of world literature that one must read before they die (in the volume 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die).