. . . Not to say Meeting Gorbachev was a good documentary. It was a love song, Werner Herzog to Gorbachev.
Herzog--not a critical thinker, I think.
Still, I'm glad I saw it because it revived my memories of the time around the end of the Soviet Union––my late twenties.
It was the best of times and the worst of times. The Berlin Wall had fallen, and soon(ish) Bill Clinton would be ushering out the Reagan/Bush era.
But the [first] Gulf War (Iraq/Kuwait, 1990-91) was a nadir for me, personally––a philosophical turning point, after which I never had such high hopes for us humans again.
I was twenty-nine, working evenings alone at the art-college library.
bink and I had put up posters against the war in the weeks leading up to US bombing, and when the bombing began one January night, I was at work.
Even though I'd known it was going to happen, when it did, I was so upset, I called my boss, crying, to say I couldn't stay at work. She didn't want to come in, so I closed the library.
Walking home through the dark cold, with televisions glowing through windows along the way, I had an insight:
I realized I'd been waiting, without knowing it, for the dream of peace from my sixties childhood to become solid and real––as if peace were our natural, inevitable inheritance––and on that night, the last wisp of steam of that dream-view disappeared.
That naively tender-hearted girl is remote from me now. Have I wept at human cruelty and stupidity in the almost-thirty years since?
I have, but I haven't also been crying for my own lost dream.
I wouldn't say I've become cynical:
it's not that I think we couldn't engineer peace.
We could! In places and times, we have.
But it does take conscious engineering, it's not easy for us, and I'm not expecting us to rise to the challenge.
I mean, we might!
But I'm not surprised when we don't.
Still, we, I, should try.
That was the best part of the Gorbachev interview. Herzog asks Gorbachev what he will have on his gravestone.
Gorbachev says the inscription on a friend's grave has stayed with him:
"We tried."
But what does that trying consist of?
Watching the movie, I thought of how I've backed off from the politics of the thrift store. I seem to be wired all wrong for politics. When I get involved in it, I start to hate people, our stupid, short-sighted natures, which is not an effective position from which to try to help. Kudos to people who can work in politics and maintain their love of humanity.
Any efforts I make to help will continue to be personal and, on the scale of world events, small.
I might say, doll sized.
Herzog--not a critical thinker, I think.
Still, I'm glad I saw it because it revived my memories of the time around the end of the Soviet Union––my late twenties.
It was the best of times and the worst of times. The Berlin Wall had fallen, and soon(ish) Bill Clinton would be ushering out the Reagan/Bush era.
But the [first] Gulf War (Iraq/Kuwait, 1990-91) was a nadir for me, personally––a philosophical turning point, after which I never had such high hopes for us humans again.
I was twenty-nine, working evenings alone at the art-college library.
bink and I had put up posters against the war in the weeks leading up to US bombing, and when the bombing began one January night, I was at work.
Even though I'd known it was going to happen, when it did, I was so upset, I called my boss, crying, to say I couldn't stay at work. She didn't want to come in, so I closed the library.
Walking home through the dark cold, with televisions glowing through windows along the way, I had an insight:
I realized I'd been waiting, without knowing it, for the dream of peace from my sixties childhood to become solid and real––as if peace were our natural, inevitable inheritance––and on that night, the last wisp of steam of that dream-view disappeared.
That naively tender-hearted girl is remote from me now. Have I wept at human cruelty and stupidity in the almost-thirty years since?
I have, but I haven't also been crying for my own lost dream.
I wouldn't say I've become cynical:
it's not that I think we couldn't engineer peace.
We could! In places and times, we have.
But it does take conscious engineering, it's not easy for us, and I'm not expecting us to rise to the challenge.
I mean, we might!
But I'm not surprised when we don't.
Still, we, I, should try.
That was the best part of the Gorbachev interview. Herzog asks Gorbachev what he will have on his gravestone.
Gorbachev says the inscription on a friend's grave has stayed with him:
"We tried."
But what does that trying consist of?
Watching the movie, I thought of how I've backed off from the politics of the thrift store. I seem to be wired all wrong for politics. When I get involved in it, I start to hate people, our stupid, short-sighted natures, which is not an effective position from which to try to help. Kudos to people who can work in politics and maintain their love of humanity.
Any efforts I make to help will continue to be personal and, on the scale of world events, small.
I might say, doll sized.
I like to hope that I still have some thought of peace occurring. The first Gulf War began during my second semester in law school and one of my classmates insisted on going to one of the local bars to watch it on TV. Looking back now that was so strange and not me. I found it rather morbid that one would do so. Oddly my law school was founded in the 70's by someone who thought there was a better way to make lawyers. Unfortunately they are now part of the Establishment.
ReplyDeleteI like to think that there are still some of us sixties childhood humans that do dream of peace and that wisp of steam has not totally disappeared.
Should we look back and wonder where our lost dreams have gone? Yes, because that person is still inside of us -- we just lost sight of them.
Kirsten
A weighty topic--thanks for weighing in, Kirsten!!!
ReplyDeleteI didn't express myself fully or well--
I don't mean so much that I lost the dream of peace,
but that I revised my belief in how we might make it real.
As a child growing up in an idealistic 60s setting, I thought Peace was our natural birthright.
That night in January 1991, I thought, No, it's not someplace we are going to arrive at, or inherit,
it's not a switch that's going to flip;
it is something we have to create, if we can, though effort and engineering,
working against the forces of entropy and inertia... [of our own egos, fear, etc].
I believe we can do that, but I'm also not holding my breath... :)