Advertisement
Published: July 23rd 2009
Edit Blog Post
Once upon a time, there was a beauty and a beast...
I. Beauty
Beauty did not seem concerned by the kids sporting mohawks and wearing ripped fishnet stockings. Beauty didn't even seem concerned with the pet rat. Beauty knew that they wouldn't detract from her beauty.
***
I am told Leipzig looked a little worn around the edges during the GDR era, with the heavy industry that dominated the region and with lack of official concern for historical preservation. Hard to believe now.
This city once was a prosperous center of trade (it boosts one of the oldest remaining trade fairs, one with origins in the Middle Ages), which allowed it to support a major intellectual and cultural scene. The likes of Liebniz and Goethe attended the University of Leipzig; Johann Sebastian Bach served as cantor at the St. Thomas Church, and Wagner was born here. The wealthy patrons of Leipzig poured lots of money into creating an urban fabric appropriate to the financial, intellectual, and cultural standing of the city. Ornate passageways lead into elegant shopping arcades; apartment buildings are graced with whimiscal gargoyle-esque creatures.
I have no reference point for what the city
must have looked like in the early nineties, as it became part of unified Germany. But I can tell that there is almost a frenetic effort to reclaim its former glory. Most of the town center has been polished up and restored (or is in process). You can even eat in the Auerbachs Keller where Goethe used to quaff a beer or two, and where he set part of Faust, or you can drink a coffee at the Coffe Baum, one of the oldest cafes in Europe. When you focus on these "traditional" aspect of the city, it is easier to sense the centuries that make up the city's past. Berlin, for all its history, feels much more a product of the twentieth-century - because that's mostly what remains.
But apparently Leipzig's urban planners and developers are not shying away from inserting some dramatically modern additions to the picture. Witness the flaring sides of the Panaroma Tower on the edge of the ultra-functional looking university campus. Or the glass cube of an art museum.
Somehow it all works, adding to the city's beauty. Even when you see some punk kids bathing in the fountain outside of the Nikolai
Church. Watering their pet rat. Even then...
II. The Beast
It appears above the treeline, like an ancient Mayan pyramid or South-East Asian wat appearing out of the jungle. A massive grey pile rising above a muddy reflection pool. A menacing hulk.
What the heck?
Now, I have never claimed to know everything (despite what my students might say). But how did I miss the fact that Leipzig is home to the "largest monument in Europe"? How is it possible I never come across a reference to this wonderfully monstrous example of Wilhelmine pomposity? WHAT exactly was this place with the fantastic name: The Völkerschlachtdenkmal ("The Monument of the Battle of Nations")?
The basic stuff came easily. It was designed to commemorate the centennial anniversary of the 1813 Battle of Leipzig, or Battle of Nations, a battle that Napoleon lost rather decisively; it was built on the battlefield, honoring all who had died, not just the Germans. The rest remained rather fuzzy as a friend and I climbed, and climbed, and climbed - and climbed - up through the craziness to the top of the platform.
When we were at the base, standing beneath
the rather menacing knight (King Arthur anyone?...but supposedly it's the Archangel Michael), we couldn't quite believe the claim that the Völkerschlachtdenkmal was taller than Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, and the Statue of Liberty. At the top we were converts. The sheer squatness of the granite and concrete structure belies its size. There's absolutely nothing delicate about it. Moreover, the statues and friezes inside and out were designed with Wagnerian drama, representing the idealized heroism of the German "nation". It's all so hideous, it's fantastic.
Still, I was left asking a lot of whys. Why commemorate the Battle of Leipzig in this way? Why design it to dwarf and intimidate? Why spend so much money on a monument? What were the uppity-ups thinking? More research to be done on my part!
Lastly, there was something more than vaguely creepy coming to the realization that the Völkerschlachtdenkmal was finished in 1913, just a year from the outset of the Great War. What a confluence of events!
What a beast...
Advertisement
Tot: 0.099s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 10; qc: 30; dbt: 0.0663s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb