Old bricks
It is truly strange to see Father Christmas in a blue get-up, with an ultramarine satin cloak. That’s how I shall remember the last week but one of the year 2003 AD. It wasn’t the first time that elections had been held at the end of the year, but they had never thrown me into such a state of despair as this time. Until then, I hadn’t noticed how arrogantly and inconsiderately politicians use the people for their own ends. They’ve taken everything from us – this time even Father Christmas! They’ve taken over the whole of Belgrade, they’ve monopolized all the halls used for cultural occasions and cancelled whatever was due to take place, and they’ve taken over the newspapers and all the other media, in fact the whole of Serbia! I didn’t travel during this period, I just watched it all on television, and I did that only as long as it took me to find the remote control and change the programme – but in vain – all the TV stations covered the election. Life gave way to politics – they forgot all about us, they left us out of everything. Ever since the change of the political system, since the break-up of Yugoslavia, we’ve been witnessing the same mistakes, looking at the same people who have made the same promises without the slightest intention of carrying them out, but I’d never noticed before that they’d stolen Father Christmas from the children – in every civilization he passes by on a sleigh drawn by reindeer, dressed in a red costume, not because he’s a communist, but because centuries before us they determined what he looked like – but this time they changed the colour of his red costume and satin cloak to blue. I’d have understand it if we’d had to do without his reindeer and the sleigh full of presents, but he started handing out political pamphlets – and that was really too much. Actually, perhaps it wasn’t – perhaps he was a candidate for president. Perhaps Father Christmas was the leader of some new party that I hadn’t heard of...
The old bricks could still be seen sticking out of the Temple, although the white marble had largely covered the walls. The Holy Temple, which in 1959, the year I arrived in Belgrade, had been overgrown with weeds, with partly built walls and foundations that had been abandoned because of the occupation and the Second World War. And later, since we were living within a communist-atheist structure, we young people used to hide at the bottom of the walls and there we tasted our first kiss, and became familiar with our sensuality – we had our first contact with the opposite sex, tried out our charm, and it was there, in the delirium of my first love affair, that I showed the Moon the soles of my feet, as I experienced the pleasures of love. Today, I feel ashamed that that’s how it was, but at that time the Temple served as a garage, and we didn’t even dream that the foundations had been consecrated, that the building was intended for God. No one can do anything against the times he happens to find himself in, and at that time things were as they were and we had to live according to the rules of the time. The foundations of the Holy Temple were not intended for demolition – the communists hadn’t decided to shatter them... Perhaps I should check this – but what would be the point of that? How important is it whether building the Temple started in 1935 or somewhat earlier or later, it’s all the same – the foundations and archways were already in place when I first found myself in the vicinity of the future Temple. The Second World War got underway and the building was stopped in the same year that I came into the world, in 1941. When the Germans occupied Belgrade, they, as fascists, used it as a garage... After the war, Tito’s Partisans didn’t continue building the Temple, neither was there a monument to Karadjordje, nor a National Library, because it had been hit by a bomb and the present one was built much later, and on as misguided a spot as the Parochial Hall – too close to the Temple, as can now be seen quite clearly.
Thanks for sharing, Eva.
I'm not sure what this is about: the Temple? Politicians? Youth losing or being denied its innocence? It's a muddle.
I have problems with the writing from the start:
'the last week but one of the year 2003 AD' - penultimate week, perhaps; and why 2003 AD? It's not likely to be confused with BC.
'They’ve taken everything from us – this time even Father Christmas! They’ve taken over the whole of Belgrade, they’ve monopolized all the halls used for cultural occasions and cancelled whatever was due to take place, and they’ve taken over the newspapers and all the other media, in fact the whole of Serbia! ' Are you still referring to events in 2003? You've jumped into the present here. Then we're back in the past again: 'I didn't travel...'
'change the programme – but in vain – all the TV stations' - apart from the fact that people rarely actually say 'but in vain', you do overuse dashes throughout. For example, 'Life gave way to politics – they forgot all about us, they left us out of everything.' - try a colon or semi-colon instead.
'...since the break-up of Yugoslavia, we’ve been witnessing...' If you're talking of 2003, this should be we'd been witnessing; otherwise you're swapping times again. Also it's followed by 'I'd never noticed' - so you need to stay in the past tense.
'The old bricks could still be seen sticking out of the Temple, although the white marble had largely covered the walls.' Not 'the white marble' but 'white marble': using 'the' implies that we can see the remnants of it, but you've only mentioned bricks as being visible.
'The Holy Temple, which in 1959, the year I arrived in Belgrade, had been overgrown with weeds, with partly built walls and foundations that had been abandoned because of the occupation and the Second World War.' - this is not a complete sentence; the subject of the sentence - the Temple - needs a verb and an object.
'...at that time the Temple served as a garage...No one can do anything against the times he happens to find himself in, and at that time things were as they were and we had to live according to the rules of the time.' - that's four uses of 'time' and is too much.
'How important is it whether building the Temple started in 1935 or somewhat earlier or later, it’s all the same – the foundations and archways were already in place when I first found myself in the vicinity of the future Temple.' - the same applies: clumsy repetition of Temple. You need a question mark if you ask a question. I'd put it after 'later', with a capital at 'it's'.
'After the war, Tito’s Partisans didn’t continue building the Temple, neither was there a monument to Karadjordje, nor a National Library, because it had been hit by a bomb and the present one was built much later, and on as misguided a spot as the Parochial Hall – too close to the Temple, as can now be seen quite clearly.' Punctuation makes this read badly. Try a colon or semi-colon after Temple. There was a National Library, because you say it had been bombed, so you need to make that clearer. Why is the Parochial Hall in a misguided spot? It's the first we've heard of this building so we don't know. We can't see quite clearly; we're strangers, and have no idea what you are describing.
'Perhaps I should check this – but what would be the point of that?' Not sure what this is here for; it says you don't check your facts because there's no point. That just sows mistrust in the reader.
'I showed the Moon the soles of my feet' - a lovely image, which has nothing to do with anything else you've shown here. It's personal and fanciful in an otherwise pragmatic and political world. I'd keep this for a better moment in your narrative, as it looks odd here.
I think you are trying to paint a picture of Yugoslavia torn between past and present, between the secular and the religious; but you don't give us one clear point to jump off from, or to build upon. Politicians hi-jacking Santa for their own purposes leads us to a ruined or unfinished Temple, and I can see a link of sorts; but with your shifting of tenses and your references to teenaged sexual experimentation, you've gone off at too many tangents at once. Which present? 2003, or 2014? It's not clear.
Maybe you are trying to cram everything into too small a space. Two intense paragraphs can't cover so wide a spectrum. Break it up and spread it all out over a larger piece, bearing in mind that you are talking to people who have never been to Belgrade, and may not know who Karadjordje is, or that the Temple (what sort of Temple?) was never completed.
Hi Eva,
The initial problem with this, for me, is not the writing, but the wall of text that confronts me as I try to read through it.Coupled with some very long sentences, it does make it quite hard to read. Perhaps the narrator's voice is intended to be that way, but it gets quite difficult to follow at times. For instance, this sentence:
Ever since the change of the political system, since the break-up of Yugoslavia, we’ve been witnessing the same mistakes, looking at the same people who have made the same promises without the slightest intention of carrying them out, but I’d never noticed before that they’d stolen Father Christmas from the children – in every civilization he passes by on a sleigh drawn by reindeer, dressed in a red costume, not because he’s a communist, but because centuries before us they determined what he looked like – but this time they changed the colour of his red costume and satin cloak to blue.
Try reading it aloud, it's very long, and it contains so many different points, that the one you're trying to make has become diluted, and almost irrelevant. And having spent the first paragraph setting us up for the blue-suited Santa, it does become irrelevant, as it's never mentioned again, but the old bricks (your title) are described, and the narrative takes on an entirely different angle. I fully accept that the link between the two is politics, and the changes in a myth (santa) and reality from myth (the temple garage) but the emphasis in the first para is on Santa, rather than the politicians changing his suit. (Incidentally, Santa used to be dressed in green until Coca-cola changed it to Red for their advertising campaign). Back to that sentence. Would it lose/gain anything if it were broken up a little more, like this?
Ever since the break-up of Yugoslavia, and the change of the political system, we've been witnessing the same mistakes. We've looked at the same people who've made the same promises without the slightest intention of carrying them out. But I’d never noticed before that they’d stolen Father Christmas from the children – in every civilization he passes by on a sleigh drawn by reindeer, dressed in a red costume. Not because he’s a communist, but because centuries before us they determined what he looked like – but this time they changed the colour of his red costume and satin cloak to blue.
Better?
And although the first paragraph ends on a'political' note, there's no real relevance to the second section, is there? Is there any way you could do this, to make a better transition between two paras which don't seem to be related at all? Would you want to? An easy way would be just to begin para two with a connection to the changes that had happened to Santa, relating it to the changes that happened to the building. Something like this:
The old Santa, the one who played no part in politics, would have been shocked at the old bricks that could still be seen sticking out of the Temple, etc etc.
I have a feeling I may have missed the point, in this piece, in which case I apologise! But those sentences do need looking at...