I’m currently in Berlin- a city that never ceases to fascinate.
It’s the 4th time I’ve been, and being lucky enough to be well travelled, I have to admit that Berlin continues to defeat me. It’s not an easy city- sprawling, no obvious centre, requiring prior or local knowledge to really benefit. And then there’s the history……..I first came here in 1993- only 4 years after the wall came down. It may as well have still been in place- the sharp divide between east and west- Mercedes on one side of a street, Trabants on
It’s the 4th time I’ve been, and being lucky enough to be well travelled, I have to admit that Berlin continues to defeat me. It’s not an easy city- sprawling, no obvious centre, requiring prior or local knowledge to really benefit. And then there’s the history……..I first came here in 1993- only 4 years after the wall came down. It may as well have still been in place- the sharp divide between east and west- Mercedes on one side of a street, Trabants on
the other- was amazing. Every time I’ve been since its like encountering a new city- so much has changed- Berlin is a city in constant flux- is it progressing? Escaping its past?
That first time in ’93 I had an amazing encounter. I was with a friend, standing by a remaining chunk of the wall, not far from Checkpoint Charlie. Were approached by a short, fat, dark moustachioed man in his mid forties. He greeted us in clipped, Germanic English, with diction better than many Brits (not uncommon). His name was Arthur (pronounced Artoor) Braun, and he had lived in Berlin all his life. He had heard us speaking English and wondered if he might walk with us for a while- so he could practice his English, in return for giving us a native’s tour of his home city. We eagerly agreed.
The next 3 hours were incredible. We walked a lot, saw much, but more than anything we talked- incessantly, compulsively, uncontrollably. Arthur was a taxi driver, a native of Berlin who had never travelled- an unremarkable man-but one with a fierce interest in the world and in life. It is for men like Arthur that Copeland wrote ‘Fanfare for the common man’, and Joyce composed Ulysses- for they see in their every day lives beauty and meaning.
Arthur believed Berlin was indeed still a divided city. The wall would never come down. He had grown up knowing he had an aunt in East Berlin, whom one day he hoped he would see. The wall came down and he did see her…..but it was awkward: The guilt of the West Berliners….the chip on the shoulder of the East Berliners….it was never the same… the divide had driven a trench in the hearts of the people. Maybe one day it would change….. and being back here- I think it has.
Arthur was sceptical of the European Union, which was gathering pace back then. He believed that Germany would always be the pivotal country in Europe- its geographic and economic position ensured this- and that after the wall came down the French, realising this, started driving the EU as a reaction to a resurgent Germany- tying them into a confederation (many respected political commentators absolutely concur with this). The Brits however saw through this- but then the Brits and the Germans are so similar. As Arthur said, “Europe is composed of beer drinkers and wine drinkers…”
He was bitterly upset that Germany, historically the land of philosophers, poets and composers, had in the modern age become synonymous with genocide and extremism. I said that unfortunately art does not go hand-in-hand with morality- great artists can be horrendous human beings (I will devote a post to this soon- it’s a subject that fascinates me). He agreed- (he was close to tears at this point)- he said the German psyche desperately wanted to believe that the genius of engineering, music and literature were signs of a deeper good, yet the events of the 20th century had proved otherwise.
Finally, after 3 hours of discourse, we parted at my hotel on the Kurfürstendamm. Arthur’s parting comment was that England’s much-disputed 3rd goal in the 1966 world cup final against Germany was never a goal in a million years….
And that was it- a brief meeting- a wonderful few hours of shared obsessions. Fate brings people together in this way, and heaven knows who writes the scripts.
Who knows what has become of you Arthur, my dear and fleeting friend. But as I again stroll the Kurfurstendam, it will be with a distant hope of meeting you again. And I will always believe that you are still strolling through the shadows of Kreuzberg, remonstrating against the EU, shedding tears of outrage and passion, a remarkable individual upholding and embodying all that is beautiful and great in your nation…..
……and it f***ing well was a goal !!!
That first time in ’93 I had an amazing encounter. I was with a friend, standing by a remaining chunk of the wall, not far from Checkpoint Charlie. Were approached by a short, fat, dark moustachioed man in his mid forties. He greeted us in clipped, Germanic English, with diction better than many Brits (not uncommon). His name was Arthur (pronounced Artoor) Braun, and he had lived in Berlin all his life. He had heard us speaking English and wondered if he might walk with us for a while- so he could practice his English, in return for giving us a native’s tour of his home city. We eagerly agreed.
The next 3 hours were incredible. We walked a lot, saw much, but more than anything we talked- incessantly, compulsively, uncontrollably. Arthur was a taxi driver, a native of Berlin who had never travelled- an unremarkable man-but one with a fierce interest in the world and in life. It is for men like Arthur that Copeland wrote ‘Fanfare for the common man’, and Joyce composed Ulysses- for they see in their every day lives beauty and meaning.
Arthur believed Berlin was indeed still a divided city. The wall would never come down. He had grown up knowing he had an aunt in East Berlin, whom one day he hoped he would see. The wall came down and he did see her…..but it was awkward: The guilt of the West Berliners….the chip on the shoulder of the East Berliners….it was never the same… the divide had driven a trench in the hearts of the people. Maybe one day it would change….. and being back here- I think it has.
Arthur was sceptical of the European Union, which was gathering pace back then. He believed that Germany would always be the pivotal country in Europe- its geographic and economic position ensured this- and that after the wall came down the French, realising this, started driving the EU as a reaction to a resurgent Germany- tying them into a confederation (many respected political commentators absolutely concur with this). The Brits however saw through this- but then the Brits and the Germans are so similar. As Arthur said, “Europe is composed of beer drinkers and wine drinkers…”
He was bitterly upset that Germany, historically the land of philosophers, poets and composers, had in the modern age become synonymous with genocide and extremism. I said that unfortunately art does not go hand-in-hand with morality- great artists can be horrendous human beings (I will devote a post to this soon- it’s a subject that fascinates me). He agreed- (he was close to tears at this point)- he said the German psyche desperately wanted to believe that the genius of engineering, music and literature were signs of a deeper good, yet the events of the 20th century had proved otherwise.
Finally, after 3 hours of discourse, we parted at my hotel on the Kurfürstendamm. Arthur’s parting comment was that England’s much-disputed 3rd goal in the 1966 world cup final against Germany was never a goal in a million years….
And that was it- a brief meeting- a wonderful few hours of shared obsessions. Fate brings people together in this way, and heaven knows who writes the scripts.
Who knows what has become of you Arthur, my dear and fleeting friend. But as I again stroll the Kurfurstendam, it will be with a distant hope of meeting you again. And I will always believe that you are still strolling through the shadows of Kreuzberg, remonstrating against the EU, shedding tears of outrage and passion, a remarkable individual upholding and embodying all that is beautiful and great in your nation…..
……and it f***ing well was a goal !!!
3 comments:
Is this really the Hackney RFC hooker- no wonder I could never understand your line-out calls!
Hi Phil- yeah would have been a bit strange quoting Rousseau in the scrum....how's the frozen north?
Post a Comment