Reading Eliade: Linden Trees, Old Songs & Romanian Soul

Do you remember the moment you realised the magic of reading ? What was the book that opened the gates ?

For the symbol of the 10th book I am presenting here, I chose to speak about the one novel, that made me fall in love with books.
I was a child who did not love children’s books or fairy tales. So every time I heard my parents rave about a new read, I was baffled, for it seemed to me a complete waste of time. Then, when I was about 13, and desperately wanted to be a grown-up, my mother found a brilliant ruse. She said “Here is a novel that you received as a present when you were a baby. It’s not for children, but I think you are old enough to understand it without getting confused. Try it for at least 50 pages before you say you don’t like it. At least, that’s how adults do it.” I opened the book, and on the first page, a hand-written note said “For when you’ll be older. Love, Uncle Gil. 1989.”
And that’s how it all began… with Mircea Eliade, and his Diary of a short-sighted adolescent. Romanul adolescentului miop.

The story in one phrase :  The daily life and emotional turmoil of a 17 year old boy, fascinated by litterature and struggling with science, who starts to question the meaning of life in an attempt to better understand who he is. An autobiographic novel, written at the age of 18, and published in 1989, 3 years after Eliade’s death.

How does it make me feel : Today, as I re read it, it makes me feel a bit nostalgic, of the time I discovered it, of the moments I felt like he did. But when I first read it, I remember feeling understood, identifying with all the questions and dilemmas he was expressing, but also aspiring to be like him, to feed a curiosity that was awakening in me.

Top 3 details

How to become an intellectual. A word very often misunderstood, or even turned into moquery, the intellectual was and still is today, the pillar of progress, the person that by understanding the past and its effects in the present, can shape a better tomorrow. And how do you become an intellectual ? By reading. A young Mircea Eliade, trying to stay afloat in a multitude of subjects imposed in highschool, was torturing his already short-sighted eyes, with Honoré de Balzac and Giovanni Papini, studies of anthropology and philosophy, not to mention the study of foreign languages, french, english and italian, but also hebrew, persian and later on sanskrit. A thrist for knowledge, fascinating to read in a diary of a 17 year old boy.

The elegance of a generation. It’s not about misplaced nostalgia, but every Romanian knows that the short period of time between the two World Wars, was the height of Romanian Society. It shows in the subjects that young Eliade and his class mates discussed, in their conversational skills, it even shows in their fashion sense. A small detail that makes the scene so charming. For instance : This evening, Robert and Dinu came over to my house, and decided we should go for a walk in the Cismigiu Gardens. Robert was wearing white trousers  and shoes with bows; Dinu’s jacket was unbuttoned: he had an antelope-skin belt and a silver cigarette case. Neither were wearing a cap or hat. I buttoned my tunic and we went out into the street. Robert sighed, Dinu offered me a cigarette. Robert sighs because he’s a genius. He told me one night that geniuses are unhappy. “Why ?”From the heights of his greater knowledge, Robert gave me a kind pat on the shoulder.”You simply wouldn’t understand…”

Bringing back the art of journaling. You probably kept a diary when you were a child, and when you read it, years later, you found it ridiculous. At least, that’s what I thought, and if I’d have to guess, I’d say that Eliade had the same feeling. Maybe that’s why he never published this first novel while he was alive. But think of what it means for us today. For a young adult that can find solace in someone else’s heartbreaks or questionning, and maybe feel encouraged to put his own thoughts into writing. Just imagine how therapeutical it could be, in the age of bullying and of digital personas. So let’s make it trendy again, to buy a beautiful notebook and write down our life. At the end of the day, it might be more interesting than we thought…

Yin/Yang : A troubling balance of the two, I would say. For if there is a very lively energy of a teenager ready to conquer the world by day, there is also an introverted and pensive soul, searching to fully comprehend every single thought or feeling that comes along. As it should be, I suppose. The yang energy of the child that discovers the world, meets the yin composure of the adult to be. Fascinating…

Favourite Quote :  Ar trebui ca la toamna sa incep sa studiez atent psihologia. Poate, daca m-as cunoaste, lucrurile s-ar petrece altfel. E foarte greu sa ma cunosc pe mine insumi. Nu ma pot analiza serios, pentru ca imi trec alte ganduri prin minte tocmai cand am nevoie de mai multa patrundere. Apoi, nu stiu de unde sa incep. E foarte usor sa spui “Cunoaste-te pe tine insuti!” Dar as vrea sa-l stiu pe acela care a priceput ceva cand a incercat sa se cunoasca pe sine. Eu nu pricep nimic. Nu pot distinge ceea ce e firesc in sufletul meu de ceea ce nu exista decat prin imaginatie. Nu ma recunosc in multe ganduri si nu pricep rostul multor sentimente. Nu pricep de ce sunt cateodata trist si de ce alta data imi place sa umplu cu fleacuri glumete si superficiale caietul acesta, care ar trebui sa fie intesat numai cu analize facute pe indelete si cu toata seriozitatea. Poate am sa pricep la toamna, cand voi studia psihologia.

This autumn, I’ll have to study psychology in earnest. If only I knew more about myself then maybe things would be different. Yet it’s so difficult to understand who I am. And I’m unable to analyse myself properly, because at the very moment when I need to look more deeply within me, my mind is suddenly filled with other things. Plus I don’t know where to begin. It’s easy to say “Above all, know yourself !” But I’d like to meet someone who has managed to discover anything while trying to do this. I can’t work it out. I can’t distinguish between what exists naturally in my soul and what only exists in my imagination. I don’t recognize myself in most of my thoughts, and can’t fathom out the meaning of many of my emotions. I can’t understand why sometimes I’m sad, and at other times I enjoy filling this notebook with common-place humour and trivia, when it should actually be overflowing with serious, in-depth analysis. But perhaps I’ll find it easier to understand in the autumn, when I start studying psychology.

Life Lesson : Ask the questions ! Keep searching for the answers. And never stop reading ! Now that I put it out there, I think I’ll go back to those children’s books, maybe I wasn’t supposed to read them as a child. Maybe my life lesson from The diary of a short-sighted adolescent is simply to read. Anything and everything. Then, at one point, the dots will connect themselves…

Why you should read it : To remember what it was like to have the time to ask yourself all these questions… To remember how you saw life at 17… To remember  the excitement of finding the answers. To remember…

The Ritual

Books have the power not only to transport you in time, but also to make everything more enticing. Maybe it’s a women’s thing, but I have a feeling I’m not the only one who said “oh how I wish I lived in that time !” while reading Jane Austen or Flaubert… And then, invariably, a somehow pragmatic mind around us, asks “really ? you would like to live in a time with no indoor plumbing ? and where you could die of a common cold ?”. And the dream falls apart… However, thanks to the many written testimonies of our ancestors, we can easily create a moment out of time, with a little imagination and maybe some research.
Born in 1907, Mircea Eliade spent his youth in that between time I spoke of in our Book episode, where people rejoiced in the peace of the after-war, and had no idea of what was to come. For Romania, the political life was tumultuous, but the cultural life had one of the most prosperous times in history. Romanian high-society spoke french and dressed in Paris, but also brough back home new styles and cultural trends, that blended with the oriental-feel of a country long influenced by the Ottoman Empire. The result was a charming mix of elegance and familiarity, a time when education and good-manners were non-negociable, but they did not make for stiff and stereotyped adults. Instead, I find a remarcable freedom of speech in the writings of that generation, and a charming blend of styles for their entertainment….

Welcoming guests

An oriental custom introduced in the Romanian culture somewhere in the 18th century, and that perdured well into the 20th century, serving preserves to your guests would have been a standard in Mircea Eliade’s youth. Constanta Vintila-Ghitulescu is a social historian that brought to light and masterfully explained many details of the Romanian society through the ages. Speaking of this very subject, her conclusions are clear : preserves are part of a ritual, an indispensable food in any type of social interaction. Therefore, collecting and exchanging recipes, testing through trial and error, preparing and stocking various types of preserves, was an important part of any woman’s life. Nowadays, seeing it is not a necessity anymore, the process of making jam or preserves, can become a meditation ritual. A moment to enjoy the contact with nature and its bountiful gifts, to carefully measure the two basic ingredients, and enjoy a moment of simple pleasures.
When it comes to serving, the sources have reached a consensus. Whether it is in novels, in diaries or love letters, the ritual was always the same. The precious concoction was kept in a special jar, made of glass or cristal, called “chisea”. At the clap of a hand, a maid would appear with a silver tray, holding a chisea full of preserves, small cristal cups for serving each guest, and glasses of cold water. Then, after the sweets were tempered by large quantities of water, little cups of coffee would appear, resembling the turkish style. Coffee and preserves open any discussion, any reception or invitation, any meal, any feast; they are omnipresent, and in the pantry of any household, you can find dozens of types of preserves.
So if you want to travel in time, nothing can be easier. Just open a jar of jam…

Romanian… tango

Bucharest in the 1920’s was rapidly transforming into a modern capital. But the recent hardships left an urgency to cherish life and enjoy every moment. European style cafés opened all over the city, replacing the oriental practices. Restaurants and most of all summer gardens, became the meeting spot for friends and family. And of course, the entertainment was a must. Musical styles of that time were influenced by North and South American music, so you would often hear jazz-like songs, and local adaptations of the tango. Many famous composers have managed to record their creations and insure their memory in time. But there is one I cherish most…
George Sbârcea was born in 1914 in the city of Toplita. Losing his father at the age of 9, he completes his studies with a sense of responsibility towards his family, and goes on completing a law degree at the University of Cluj. But deep-down, the legal circuit does not interest him. Instead, he finds great pleasure in composing music, and takes a chance by creating his own travelling orchestra, against the advice of his family. He takes the surname Claude Romano, and will becomeone of the most famous composers of the 1930’s, and a passionate promoter of the argentinian tango. In 1938, he receives the Légion d’Honneur from Charles de Gaulle, in Paris.
And in the early 1990’s, he reaches the ears of a very young girl, fascinated by the pronunciation of the singers, later on, moved by the words, and still mesmerised by the way music can transport you in time, even today. My parents had a vinyl record called The most wonderful tangos, Cele mai frumoase tangouri. It its paper covers, it still holds today, cele mai frumoase amintiri. The most wonderful memories.

The perfume of memories

In all the years I lived in Bucharest, there was one moment, one evening as a stolen glimpse from the past, that is as vivid in my mind as if it happened yesterday. It was a very hot summer, and the Cismigiu Gardens were the only place to be in the evening. Walking around the alleys, some of them lit by old-fashioned street lamps, others in almost complete darkness, I heard the distant sound of music. Getting closer and closer, passing groups of people of all ages, hearing laughter and the music getting closer, I finally arrived in front of two couples, dancing the tango under a large tree, that embalmed the air with the sweetest perfume.
Reading Eliade’s book today, many years after that evening, I recognise the same atmosphere :
Robert se culca iar pe banca, cu privirile in tei. Gandeste. Muzica a incetat. Trec perechi pe sub alei si Dinu le urmareste cu ochii. Inceput de vara, cu ispite.
And he lay down on the bench again, his gaze still fastened on the linden tree. He was thinking. By now, the music had stopped. Couples came walking past under the trees, and Dinu watched them. Ah ! the first days of summer and all their temptations !
Even today, one of the natural smells that instantly bring me back to Bucharest, is the linden tree in its most extravagant season of bloom. Nothing can compare to the instant your olfactory memory kicks in, and you are carried away, through the rabbit hole of your memory, to a very precise moment in time. The linden tree carries on its branches myths from all over the world, but what I believe to be even more precious, is the precise and unique feeling each of us has, when smelling it.
If you missed the season, or if you simply miss IT, a linden flower infusion will get you right where you need to be. I am currently on a bench in the Cismigiu Gardens, talking nonsense with Claude Romano.

I hope you will forgive my moment of nostalgia, I can assure you it was all light and joy.
Until next time, enjoy your reading, and your rituals !

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