A Tale of Illusions Lost
[TIL #45]
Folks,
A warm welcome to new subscribers, and warm greetings to all.
In a previous story, i wrote about entering a palace with almost no expectation and being enchanted by the visit. By contrast, when i took a train to Coimbra (about 170 km north of Lisbon), i probably had a too precise notion of what i would find there.
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On my way to one of the oldest universities of the continent, i entertained visions of labyrinthine libraries where volumes of mythical wisdom would adorn intricate wooden shelves, and i expected to perambulate centuries-old corridors filled with the sort of austere yet pure atmosphere that belongs equally to the tops of mountains and the relentless quest for the advancement of knowledge.
And to be sure, the old library of the University of Coimbra is a vault of treasures … However, visits are timed and short. Most inconveniently, i ended up sharing my 20-minute slot with a flock of tourists and their robotic tour guide. For my misfortune, theirs was one of the very few languages i can understand. As we were allowed in the first floor, a few of them spotted a library staff member working on an ancient volume, and started behaving with the idiotic excitement of a crowd at the zoo, speaking loudly of the employee as of an exotic creature… Later on, during the 10 minutes we were allotted to visit the final floor of the magnificent library, their ranks of bored faces colonised all the space, which made it uneasy to wander in the rooms. Without mercy, the foolish herd ruined the sense of wonder that i had planned for when i bought my ticket.
Students sport the most elegant traditional costume of an austere black cape that evoke silhouettes of a time long gone, and they play the guitar and sing in the street, and it's all very romantic. But at night time, they heed the call of heavy, grainy beats that pour out of low-quality loudspeakers and drown the town, and they hurry to the most mundane drinking sessions, all elegance abandoned.
I had not thought that the university district would be dominated by martial edifices erected in the 1950s. It was like stepping down at the wrong stop on a ride on the time train — i had bought a ticket for the Middle Ages and i found myself in a dystopian scenario, concerned almost that at every street corner i might run into alien troops on patrol.
There were brief moments during the 3-day trip when my hopes of exploring mythical places were momentarily restored. One of such was when i walked in the peace of the cloister attached to the old cathedral. Another happened when i paused in front of the entry to a law faculty, reminding me that i was once a trembling ignorant entering a similar hall of legal science, a passage that i thought would make me a worthy man. Ah! Illusions who guided my path, illusions once so bright as to blind me, what have become of you?
And so it happened that, against the rough texture of modern day Coimbra, my delusions were grated like common parmiggiano and fell into crumbs that were quickly washed away by the rain. I realised that i lived in dreams no more, awaken to reality and still anxious for a compass now that the visions that had so far guided me had fallen into obsolescence. I came to wonder if the traces left by plants, dust or rain on walls were the writings i should strive to decipher but it proved to be impossible to make any sense of them.
(All this said, it was a very pleasant 3-day trip.)
Recommendations
Here in Lisbon,
‘the movie m8ker’, a friend and a co-organiser of the Lx photo community, has launched a YouTube channel in which he tells the story of capturing the energy and light of the city as a (relatively) new resident.Here’s one where i appear just long enough to say a few silly things.
Watch, like and follow at https://www.youtube.com/@MovieM8ker
In a combination of texts and photographs, the Tales of Ink and Light are a collection of poems, short stories (fiction or documentary) or essays that explore the strange beauty of our world. From portraits of individual lives to musings on social justice, from travel diaries to an exploration of the intricacies of identity, the Tales are a cauldron of meaning-making. The newsletter is published weekly-ish, one week in English and the other in French as les Contes d’encre et de lumière.
Thank you for taking part in the Tales of Ink and Light. It’s good to have you on board.
Pierre François D.
the term "shoot" comes to mind and it doesn't refer to "taking photos" 😜