Details, Details (aka City of Peace and Writers of Argument, Part II)
The conference is mostly over (just one more reception tonight and recitation of poetry tomorrow to attend), and here a few more impressions, plus a few more photos.
One undisputed highlight: the first evening which was devoted to the "writers in prison" and "writers in exile" programs. In past years, these evenings, despite their dramatic subjects, could drag on because of the presentation - none too good translators, for example, or not too well prepared questioners, so that not all of the writers could really get into a conversation with each other and the audience. Not to mention that not every writer can do a good job of reciting his or her own work. So this year, there was a change of format, and an inspired one it was. This year's emphasis was on Iran, China and Turkey, with a writer from each country who was in Germany due to PEN's "writers in exile" program and had been persecuted in their own countries because of their writings. Each of these writers got to pick three texts - poetry or prose, their choice - from their country's current literature (didn't have to include their own work, but could). These texts were recited in German translations by two actors; afterwards the writers were introduced (via a short biography) and interviewed by the head of the German "writers in exile" program, with a (good) translator at their side. They had been given the gist of the questions ahead of time so they could prepare.
The result was an immensely moving evening with Khalil Rostamkhani from Iran (being in Germany the longest, he actually didn't need a translator), Zhou Qing from China and Pinar Selek from Turkey. Along with depressing news (twelve more executions of journalists & writers reported from Iran, for example) and very practical calls for action (Khalil Rostamkhani pointed out that Germany accepted only twenty refugees in the aftermath of last year's crashdown of the opposition, and that's something one can lobby against, plus Nokia is making a lot of profit supplying Iran with surveillance equipment). One of the stories Zhou Qing - who was crucial in discovering and making public the food scandal, if you remember, and otherwise specializes in writing about the workers without steady jobs - told was about one of the farmers coming to the city - or rather, one who tries and ends up six kilometres away from actual Bejing in a miserably paid job at horrible conditions; one day he snaps, steals a taxi, drives towards the city centre and after getting 40 people killed in his amok drive is killed himself. The awful punchline is this: of the 40 people killed, many were former farmers like himself. Others were city people. Everyone's family got some financial compensation, but the ones of the former farmers were paid 20.000, whereas the ones of the city folk were paid 400.000 per person. The reason for this gap in financial value placed on a human life is due to the difference of status and the disdain in which the "floating people" (don't know whether I translated a term which in German is itself a translation correctly into English) are held. Mind you, here some of the comparisons Zhou Qing used made me balk inwardly, because he said in his opinion it was not only worse than apartheid in South Africa but the Nuremberg Laws in the Third Reich. I have no claim to any kind of knowledge about current day China beyond newspaper reading, but generally, Third Reich comparisons accomplish nothing and should be avoided; every evil is evil enough on its own without this. Otoh, one of the things he said was something all three exiled writers agreed on, re: being here in temporary safety but away from home and their own language: "I have gained heaven but I have lost the earth."
They all came across as scarred, literally and metaphorically: Pinar Selek, who has an ongoing trial in Turkey, despite being cleared of the charge once already, compared it to a room she visited in the Jewish museum in Berlin where everying is slightly out of focus. Khalil Rostamkhani said he still is afraid when a car or a motor bike drives slower in a street he's walking on. One of the texts read was about his prison experience, and how the other prisoners got younger and younger, especially those executed. Asked about his biggest fear, he said that the world forgets the very much alive Persian opposition because of the attention on the "nuclear issue", and that the later is what defines Iran in the public eye.
Faced with these writers, all of whom had experienced prison, torture, and had been in fear of their lives, one felt one's privileged existence more keenly than ever. Speaking of privilege, one of the big debates yesterday and today was about a declaration re: Afghanistan. This had been brewing for a while, but yesterday our president made headlines via an interview quote where, in reply to a question re: German soldiers in Afghanistan he said, among other things, that securing one's trade routes did legitimize even use of military force. Cue a lot of indignation from every corner, including his own party, hasty retraction and declaration his reply was referring not to Afghanistan but the use of force against the pirates at the Somalia coast. The debate was, among other things, about whether or not the declaration should address Köhler's (i.e. the president's) quote or not, given that he retracted the statement (not that anyone believed the retraction, but still, a retracted statement can't be treated the same way) or be a general statement against the war in Afghanistan. One participant wanted a statement written in an ironic way, congratulating the president to his honesty, whereupon another wearily pointed out that ironic statements should be avoided at all costs because they usually end up making awful quotes in the media and never accomplish anything with potential readers. Then there was a debate about whether or not the war - which now is called "war", a new event, because until a few weeks our politicians painfully avoided the term - was unconstitutional (since our constitution forbids any war of aggression or participation or preparation of same), and a lot of sarcasm back and forth, until the final result was a declaration that basically said that because of the assymetric nature of the war in Afghanistan, even if one assumes the best of intentions, only more war, more dead civilians and general hatred among the population will follow, so we protest its continuation. Honestly, I don't think it will accomplish anything, but the general idea was that an orgination of writers which is explicitly political and argues for writers in other countries can't be silent about a crucial policy in its own country and had to say something.
...something also included the phrases "in this ciy of peace" and "if after thirty years of a devastating war the Westphalian peace could be achieved, then...". Nobody mentioned that the negotiations for the Westphalian peace after the Thirty-Years-War took five years.
That's the room without a bunch of writers in it, the Friedenssaal:
The porraits on the wall show the negotiators, plus there are also portraits of the rulers they represented, among others Christina of Sweden and the child Louis XIV (Mazarin was governing for him at the time):
The chandelier is marvellous:
One local tradition to celebrate the end of the Thirty-Years-War is that the children (formerly only the boys, these days the girls as well) on a day in October get out costumes and get on playhorses to the city hall, where they get a bretzel by the lord mayor. Which is why there are little sculptures like this around:
Also, the location of the battle between Varus and Arminius the Cheruscian in the Teutoburg Forest isn't far, so the Roman mask found there is used for sculpture as well:
But the Osnabrück people weren't always peacefully minded. In 1816 they got it into their heads to build their own arc de triomphe claiming they were instrumental in beating Napoleon at Waterloo (Wellington, pfff):
After the WWII bombings, only two of the old houses in the city centre were still standing. This is one of the two, with a detail, Adam and Eve, that is there because originally it was part of a rich citizen's daughter's dowery:
Then there is a modern fountain celebrating the history of Osnabrück. The detail below symbolizes the plague and the witch craze:
They have quite accomplished metal workers here. Observe this door in the cathedral:
I already posted a picture of the cathedral from outside, so here is one of the garden inside, where the deans are buried:
And now some more looks at the city hall and St. Mary's as a goodbye:
One undisputed highlight: the first evening which was devoted to the "writers in prison" and "writers in exile" programs. In past years, these evenings, despite their dramatic subjects, could drag on because of the presentation - none too good translators, for example, or not too well prepared questioners, so that not all of the writers could really get into a conversation with each other and the audience. Not to mention that not every writer can do a good job of reciting his or her own work. So this year, there was a change of format, and an inspired one it was. This year's emphasis was on Iran, China and Turkey, with a writer from each country who was in Germany due to PEN's "writers in exile" program and had been persecuted in their own countries because of their writings. Each of these writers got to pick three texts - poetry or prose, their choice - from their country's current literature (didn't have to include their own work, but could). These texts were recited in German translations by two actors; afterwards the writers were introduced (via a short biography) and interviewed by the head of the German "writers in exile" program, with a (good) translator at their side. They had been given the gist of the questions ahead of time so they could prepare.
The result was an immensely moving evening with Khalil Rostamkhani from Iran (being in Germany the longest, he actually didn't need a translator), Zhou Qing from China and Pinar Selek from Turkey. Along with depressing news (twelve more executions of journalists & writers reported from Iran, for example) and very practical calls for action (Khalil Rostamkhani pointed out that Germany accepted only twenty refugees in the aftermath of last year's crashdown of the opposition, and that's something one can lobby against, plus Nokia is making a lot of profit supplying Iran with surveillance equipment). One of the stories Zhou Qing - who was crucial in discovering and making public the food scandal, if you remember, and otherwise specializes in writing about the workers without steady jobs - told was about one of the farmers coming to the city - or rather, one who tries and ends up six kilometres away from actual Bejing in a miserably paid job at horrible conditions; one day he snaps, steals a taxi, drives towards the city centre and after getting 40 people killed in his amok drive is killed himself. The awful punchline is this: of the 40 people killed, many were former farmers like himself. Others were city people. Everyone's family got some financial compensation, but the ones of the former farmers were paid 20.000, whereas the ones of the city folk were paid 400.000 per person. The reason for this gap in financial value placed on a human life is due to the difference of status and the disdain in which the "floating people" (don't know whether I translated a term which in German is itself a translation correctly into English) are held. Mind you, here some of the comparisons Zhou Qing used made me balk inwardly, because he said in his opinion it was not only worse than apartheid in South Africa but the Nuremberg Laws in the Third Reich. I have no claim to any kind of knowledge about current day China beyond newspaper reading, but generally, Third Reich comparisons accomplish nothing and should be avoided; every evil is evil enough on its own without this. Otoh, one of the things he said was something all three exiled writers agreed on, re: being here in temporary safety but away from home and their own language: "I have gained heaven but I have lost the earth."
They all came across as scarred, literally and metaphorically: Pinar Selek, who has an ongoing trial in Turkey, despite being cleared of the charge once already, compared it to a room she visited in the Jewish museum in Berlin where everying is slightly out of focus. Khalil Rostamkhani said he still is afraid when a car or a motor bike drives slower in a street he's walking on. One of the texts read was about his prison experience, and how the other prisoners got younger and younger, especially those executed. Asked about his biggest fear, he said that the world forgets the very much alive Persian opposition because of the attention on the "nuclear issue", and that the later is what defines Iran in the public eye.
Faced with these writers, all of whom had experienced prison, torture, and had been in fear of their lives, one felt one's privileged existence more keenly than ever. Speaking of privilege, one of the big debates yesterday and today was about a declaration re: Afghanistan. This had been brewing for a while, but yesterday our president made headlines via an interview quote where, in reply to a question re: German soldiers in Afghanistan he said, among other things, that securing one's trade routes did legitimize even use of military force. Cue a lot of indignation from every corner, including his own party, hasty retraction and declaration his reply was referring not to Afghanistan but the use of force against the pirates at the Somalia coast. The debate was, among other things, about whether or not the declaration should address Köhler's (i.e. the president's) quote or not, given that he retracted the statement (not that anyone believed the retraction, but still, a retracted statement can't be treated the same way) or be a general statement against the war in Afghanistan. One participant wanted a statement written in an ironic way, congratulating the president to his honesty, whereupon another wearily pointed out that ironic statements should be avoided at all costs because they usually end up making awful quotes in the media and never accomplish anything with potential readers. Then there was a debate about whether or not the war - which now is called "war", a new event, because until a few weeks our politicians painfully avoided the term - was unconstitutional (since our constitution forbids any war of aggression or participation or preparation of same), and a lot of sarcasm back and forth, until the final result was a declaration that basically said that because of the assymetric nature of the war in Afghanistan, even if one assumes the best of intentions, only more war, more dead civilians and general hatred among the population will follow, so we protest its continuation. Honestly, I don't think it will accomplish anything, but the general idea was that an orgination of writers which is explicitly political and argues for writers in other countries can't be silent about a crucial policy in its own country and had to say something.
...something also included the phrases "in this ciy of peace" and "if after thirty years of a devastating war the Westphalian peace could be achieved, then...". Nobody mentioned that the negotiations for the Westphalian peace after the Thirty-Years-War took five years.
That's the room without a bunch of writers in it, the Friedenssaal:
The porraits on the wall show the negotiators, plus there are also portraits of the rulers they represented, among others Christina of Sweden and the child Louis XIV (Mazarin was governing for him at the time):
The chandelier is marvellous:
One local tradition to celebrate the end of the Thirty-Years-War is that the children (formerly only the boys, these days the girls as well) on a day in October get out costumes and get on playhorses to the city hall, where they get a bretzel by the lord mayor. Which is why there are little sculptures like this around:
Also, the location of the battle between Varus and Arminius the Cheruscian in the Teutoburg Forest isn't far, so the Roman mask found there is used for sculpture as well:
But the Osnabrück people weren't always peacefully minded. In 1816 they got it into their heads to build their own arc de triomphe claiming they were instrumental in beating Napoleon at Waterloo (Wellington, pfff):
After the WWII bombings, only two of the old houses in the city centre were still standing. This is one of the two, with a detail, Adam and Eve, that is there because originally it was part of a rich citizen's daughter's dowery:
Then there is a modern fountain celebrating the history of Osnabrück. The detail below symbolizes the plague and the witch craze:
They have quite accomplished metal workers here. Observe this door in the cathedral:
I already posted a picture of the cathedral from outside, so here is one of the garden inside, where the deans are buried:
And now some more looks at the city hall and St. Mary's as a goodbye:
