Yesterday was another holiday in Poland, but not one that causes school to be cancelled or banks to be closed. It was a "Holiday of Freedom" -- the 24th anniversary of the elections that led to the fall of the Communist system in Poland.
At the Presidential Palace, there was a fabulous transparency celebrating the events of that day. And this week at the "Dom Spotkanie z Historiem" (House of Meeting History) there are all kinds of things going on -- public meetings, documentary and feature film screenings, collecting oral histories -- in conjunction with the project Europeana 1989 (see here).
One journalist is on record that "memories of Solidarity history are fading in Poland" (see here) while in Hong Kong the streets are full of protestors who cannot forget.
I celebrated the day by attending a meeting at Warsaw University's Artes Liberales with American poet W.S. Merwin (on the left, with Adam Zagajewski).
Merwin was in Warsaw to accept the first Zbigniew Herbert Prize. The event was truly exciting: students and poetry lovers crammed into the AL conference room, and an interpreter was on hand to render the conversation into Polish for non-English speakers. Merwin recited two of his poems, and he talked at length about poetry, as well as responding to questions from Zagajewski and audience members.
Let me quote the first poem he recited, which he called a "summary poem" -- not summery, though perhaps it is that as well, but summing up:
This poem, Merwin explained, is all about "mixed feelings," which relates to poetry the same as to life. There is no such thing as a pure feeling, he said: feelings are always mixed. What you remember today with anger, you will remember next week with forgiveness.
Merwin is 86, and he says he's having trouble with his vision, but his mind is sharp and his priorities are right on.
I was thinking that for my group of Fulbright scholars and teachers -- who will meet on Friday in Warsaw for what I've been calling a "disorientation" -- "mixed feelings" really sums it up. Several Fulbrighters are going home after two years, many after 9 months, some of us after 4+ months. We are all anxious to get back home, to see family and familiar places, to be immersed once again in an English-language environment.
But we will miss our favorite walks and bus routes, cafes and libraries, parks and concert venues. I will miss my fruit man, who brings his truck on Tuesdays and Fridays -- except when the police drive him off -- with great garlic, onions, and especially twarde jabłka. I'll miss my language teacher, and my children's school principals, and the best cappuccino I've ever had.
At the Presidential Palace, there was a fabulous transparency celebrating the events of that day. And this week at the "Dom Spotkanie z Historiem" (House of Meeting History) there are all kinds of things going on -- public meetings, documentary and feature film screenings, collecting oral histories -- in conjunction with the project Europeana 1989 (see here).
Ironic, when you think about it, or maybe poignant: John Wayne strode into Poland at high noon, marking the end of a repressive state, and democracy followed in his footsteps, while on the very same day in Beijing tanks crushed the student demonstrations that called for reform and led directly to martial law and the repressions that continue today.
One journalist is on record that "memories of Solidarity history are fading in Poland" (see here) while in Hong Kong the streets are full of protestors who cannot forget.
I celebrated the day by attending a meeting at Warsaw University's Artes Liberales with American poet W.S. Merwin (on the left, with Adam Zagajewski).
 |
| Actually my photo for a change! |
Merwin was in Warsaw to accept the first Zbigniew Herbert Prize. The event was truly exciting: students and poetry lovers crammed into the AL conference room, and an interpreter was on hand to render the conversation into Polish for non-English speakers. Merwin recited two of his poems, and he talked at length about poetry, as well as responding to questions from Zagajewski and audience members.
Let me quote the first poem he recited, which he called a "summary poem" -- not summery, though perhaps it is that as well, but summing up:
Rain Light
All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the washed colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning
This poem, Merwin explained, is all about "mixed feelings," which relates to poetry the same as to life. There is no such thing as a pure feeling, he said: feelings are always mixed. What you remember today with anger, you will remember next week with forgiveness.
 |
| My fruit man certainly had mixed feelings about my taking his picture... |
Merwin is 86, and he says he's having trouble with his vision, but his mind is sharp and his priorities are right on.
I was thinking that for my group of Fulbright scholars and teachers -- who will meet on Friday in Warsaw for what I've been calling a "disorientation" -- "mixed feelings" really sums it up. Several Fulbrighters are going home after two years, many after 9 months, some of us after 4+ months. We are all anxious to get back home, to see family and familiar places, to be immersed once again in an English-language environment.
But we will miss our favorite walks and bus routes, cafes and libraries, parks and concert venues. I will miss my fruit man, who brings his truck on Tuesdays and Fridays -- except when the police drive him off -- with great garlic, onions, and especially twarde jabłka. I'll miss my language teacher, and my children's school principals, and the best cappuccino I've ever had.
I will also miss the Polish around me -- will I really be able to sustain a level of language learning once I'm back in the States? The vibrant life of Warsaw runs along at a pace that I personally have not been able to manage -- I think I've missed twice as many amazing events here as I've attended. The "great, wonderful, intransigent spirit of Poland," as Merwin put it. I will miss that too.
Mixed feelings. Talking about his life -- living in Europe and longing for the States, being in the US and then fleeing back to Europe -- Merwin felt compelled to ask himself: "Can't you ever make up your mind?"
And that's the point, he said. There are two aspects of yourself. Mixed feelings -- this is the human condition.
I'll take that back to the U.S. with me as American wisdom acquired in Poland.
Mixed feelings. Talking about his life -- living in Europe and longing for the States, being in the US and then fleeing back to Europe -- Merwin felt compelled to ask himself: "Can't you ever make up your mind?"
And that's the point, he said. There are two aspects of yourself. Mixed feelings -- this is the human condition.
I'll take that back to the U.S. with me as American wisdom acquired in Poland.
Comments
Post a Comment