This is a rather important week for Virginia Tech, as one might imagine. I get to spend the anniversary of April 16 very far away from home, and most of those that I really want to be with at this time. We’ll be marking the anniversary in our own way over here; I’m not sure how just yet, but we’ll be remembering and thinking it over.
That said, I had a moment today where I recalled something I wanted to discuss.
The great difficulty with Europe is that absolutely everything was important at one time or another. You can’t go very far before tripping over a UNESCO World Heritage Site, or some local icon, or anything. When we took our Italy trip some months ago, this was obvious; Rome is littered with all the “Roman” stuff, which basically amounts to what Eddie Izzard refers to as “a series of small walls.” Of course, these small walls are the remnant of one of the greatest civilizations, but that’s all there is. At the time, we marveled at the realization that we were standing in the Roman Forum, where all sorts of marvelous figures had walked, lived, bartered, and set off to conquer lesser civilizations. I couldn’t quite feel the same sense of wonder at the time. A few too many tourists were in my way to feel the wonders of walking with Augustus….some 2000 years late.
Germany was different; it’s harder to find areas left as they were centuries ago, or the streets that you’re fairly certain some emperor or other was one.
And then we got to Nuremberg. On our way out of the city the group paused at the old Nazi Parade grounds. It’s not half so impressive today as it looks on the History Channel, filled with crowds and troops. Now it’s empty, and overlooks a high school soccer field, with a more impressive professional soccer league stadium just beyond. All around the stands there are fences and warning signs, with crews attempting to bolster the structure. There’s nothing to prevent the casual visitor from climbing all over the stands, and eventually you find yourself standing just where Hitler did as he inspected the troops and made his speeches.
This was the time I got chills; there’s nothing I found creepier than standing in the exact spot, on a virtually unchanged structure, and knowing exactly what happened on that spot. In Rome everything is a bit broken down, so seeing the grand glories are more easily achieved for me through film. Nothing looks like it does in the movies. Nuremberg has been left unchanged, except for emptying out.
I’m planning on spending the weekend in Venice, and as I plan for that trip, I have a newspaper clipping of author Geraldine Brooks explaining which fictional character she would spend a week as. I’m not too interested in Ms. Brooks, but she matches my answer perfectly. She describes the week Charles Ryder spent in Venice with Sebastian in “Brideshead Revisited”. I reread this passage just before leaving for Riva, and was surprised when I realized that the story of the fortnight in Venice is barely more than 3 pages in a 300 page book. And yet, it’s one of the most beautiful scenes of the book, and the BBC adaptation.
I, however, will not be 19, in love, and working towards my destiny as an artist on this trip. I’ll be 21, and trying to forget just how much work I have to do in order to enjoy a city I’ve seen and heard about in so many books and movies. This is the other side of travel; finding the places I’ve read about in fiction, trying to find out if those marvelous cities that inspired so many writers could have a similar effect on me.
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