Faint Glimmers: Finding Light In A Dark World.
My dispatch from Budapest
“There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity.” Monsieur Gustav, The Grand Budapest Hotel
I’m living in Budapest for a few months while my husband works here. I wander her streets, thinking about this primitive tribalism we’re witnessing and wonder if it’s a descent or re-entrenchment — a return to humanity’s natural state — as if so-called evolution was (is) just an exoskeleton concealing our true abysmal nature. It’s all so heartbreaking, these wars and what-aboutism devoid of empathy and compassion.
Most days I walk for miles, ingesting history: the imposing 13th century castle, ancient Roman ruins — crumbling stone walls of the OG bloodlusters — lying beside decaying medieval arches. 18th century Baroque churches, the 1944 Jewish ghetto, bleak Communist era block buildings, statues of long dead revolutionaries, antisemitic advertisements of the current Christo-fascist regime. It’s a lot. No wonder Hungarians carry dour faces. They’ve seen some shit.
And yet, this city is achingly beautiful.
But people on the street don’t smile and rarely make eye contact — not in a New York aggressive mind your own fucking business way. It’s more an exhausted…
