Travels Through the 20th Century
29 Nov
The penultimate day of the penultimate month of 2011 has been deathly cold and rainy round my way. I scuttled, beetle-like, from home to bus to office to bus to home today in that depressing, wintery, never-saw-any-sunlight way which is by all accounts a little bit sad. But given that there was very little daylight, let alone sunlight to be had anyway, no tears have been shed. Plus, I saw a rainbow out of the window this morning, so it wasn’t all bad.
Thankfully, and gratitude being the general subject of this evening’s ramblings, there has been golden lamplight, spicy miso soup, blankets, reduced price flowers and pots of tea to enjoy tonight. I’ll deliberately leave watching the news out of that cosy equation, although if you’d like a quick summary of the state of the nation as we enter December, the words DOOM, GLOOM, AUSTERITY and BANKERS seem to do a pretty fine job.
Anyway, I thought I would swoop down from my sofa nest to let you all know about a fantastic book I’m reading at the moment, and one that is helping me to think of the good that exists in the world, in spite of all I read in the paper. The book is called In Europe, by Dutch writer Geert Mak. Mak spent the whole of 1999 travelling around Europe, tracing the continent’s tumultuous passage through the 20th century as the Millennium bulldozed its way towards us. The end result is a brilliant fusion of history and travel writing: immensely readable (it requires a little more concentration that some books but it handsomely rewards any effort you put in) and by turns hilarious and truly humbling. If anyone is in need of something more ‘real’ than the tinsel, the credit cards and the John Lewis adverts this Winter I really would recommend giving this book a go. Each time I put it down I feel a little more appreciative of the world we live in now, despite the spending cuts and the Tories and the Eurozone debt crisis. I also feel a boundless sadness mixed with respect for the thousands of people throughout history who have worked and fought so hard for us to live the way we do now. I am grateful that they did. Truly so.
“Along the autoroute from Lille to Paris, the Battle of the Somme is only a tap of the accelerator. In late Summer 1916, 1.2 million people died here, between two exits. The motorway runs at a slight distance from the eastern boundary of the battlefield. Drivers are kept informed of that as well, on big brown signs along the road, LA GRANDE GUERRE, the way a famous chateau or a pleasant vintage might be pointed out elsewhere. Then they flash by, back into the serenity of present-day Picardy.
Here, the war has already entered the next phase, that of a popular tourist attraction, a mainstay of the region’s commercial infrastructure. Everywhere one finds folders promoting these centres of infernal attraction; staying at my hotel – it is 15 February, the heart of Winter – there are at least three couples touring the front lines. The museums compete by offering even more audio and visual effects. For the first time in ages I can receive Dutch channels on the TV in my room. On the news they are interviewing tourists who were stranded for a few days in a snow-bound Swiss village. ’What we’ve been through!’ one tanned woman says. ’We felt just like refugees.’ Another one cries ‘Everything, we’ve lost everything!’. She’s talking about a suitcase full of skiing outfits and make-up.”
Image above from here.
