LEARNING SILESIA
The world is very small and those who even once committed a faux pas and then met the witnesses of it in situations that were least expected, know that. When a poor fellow was walking with his "new" girlfriend, such witnesses suddenly emerged from around the corners, or from the shops, and on spotting him greeted effusively and, while talking, alluded to an event he would like to forget about. This smallness – or sometimes even tininess – of the world may have some pleasant consequences. I hasten to give an example. A friend of mine, B., called me a couple of days ago. She said that one of her acquaintances (M.) had came to Cracow on business from a very far end of the world, he’s short on time and so on, and so forth, in short: I was to change my clothes and put on my shoes, because I was setting off with her to familiarize that friend-foreigner with our city`s nightlife. After half an hour we reached the agreed place. To our surprise, not only M. but also our good friend K. was on the spot. She explained her unexpected presence with the fact that M. turned out to be her husband`s (T., also a foreigner) childhood friend and M. knowing that T. lives in Poland decided to find him and renew the ties of friendship. You probably wonder how does such an after-years-meeting look like? What do people drink on that kind of occasion – juice or vodka – and what do they talk about? Do they talk about families – whether or not there is a newborn and who is the father? Or maybe some anecdotes concerning studies or work are being told during such a gathering? Or maybe the matters of a country are the main topic of the discussion – should it be supplied with nuclear weapons, join one or the other union or sign a pact? Reality has shown that people drink wine and chat about Silesia. Indeed, at that time in Cracow, those two gentlemen from a country exotic and distant more than one could imagine kept talking about Silesia itself and its sights. And while they were unwinding in the course of the conversation, B. suddenly raised her derisive nark`s finger above her head, pointed it at me and accusingly said: "She is Silesian!". I felt the eyes of the other three fixed on me – an alien, a monster from a slag heap having sulphur and coal tar in its lungs. "So, what is Silesia like?" T. asked. "I don`t know," I replied truthfully, "I`ve never thought about it".
What Is Silesia Like?
In my search for the answer to this question, a few days later, I stopped by at Empik where, from the shelf with cultural and art magazines, I picked out the June issue of "Silesia" (6/2008) – a socio-cultural magazine. Being under a delusion that I would find something characteristic for the region thanks to the headlines and the graphic layout only, I browsed through the whole issue. Nothing. Not until I reached the back cover did I get, let`s say, fragmentary satisfaction. It was because of a moustachioed, smiling (a bit passionately) man in his forties dressed in something like a uniform gracing the page. In all those parts of his face where it should have been smooth – it was smooth as a baby`s bottom. Where it should have been rough – one was able to see his five o`clock shadow, which even Bruce Willis, in the times of his greatest popularity, would not be ashamed of. There was a caption underneath: "Let`s meet on the bus" and an explanation that the guy on the cover is one of the Silesian agglomeration`s ticket controllers. On page 3, an article Occupation: Ticket Controller (Zawód kontroler) by Katarzyna Migdoł-Rogóż, supplemented and explained the idea behind the picture. The article (as well as the picture) has the task of promoting "choppers" (in order we would eventually stop calling them so). It is a part of a large-scale info – promotional campaign, which might make passengers aware of the fact that paying the amount due for a ride on public transport is their sacrosanct duty and, at the same time, checking whether or not the charge was paid is, after all, an unalienable right of the public transport company`s representatives (namely, “choppers”). I must admit, that it is quite a bizarre point of view in a country where a ticket controller is perceived as a public enemy number two, who, in the top ten of the most hated people, is classified high – just behind the president of the Polish Football Association and right ahead of a health inspector. Despite that, or maybe precisely because of that, I have been convinced by the author. I am convinced to so considerable a degree that I resolve never to use the word “chopper” again in this essay. What I am plagued by is only one doubt: is there in this whole country another magazine or newspaper containing the word “cultural” in its title, which would include a ticket-controller-promoting content?
High Time to Think It Over
Further in, the issue becomes more cultural and less social. Despite the fact that the monthly resembles a kind of a pre – war Jewish shop offering its reader literally everything from soup to nuts, it owes its coherence to one simple feature – it discusses issues concerning the region only. That is to say, both soup and nuts mentioned above, are made in Silesia, with Silesian components or, at least, by the Silesians. The magazine`s editor probably assumed – quite appropriately, as a matter of fact, taking into consideration my own example – that if someone reaches for “Silesia” it means that consciously or not, they want to learn something about this region, or to have a look at Poland – at least during those few moments of reading – from the angle of the Silesian region. The magazine is open to all non – Silesian readers. It is written entirely in beautiful Polish (the purity of the language is guarded by Jan Miodek himself, remnants of whose presence can be found on page 56.), there are no unexplained to a layperson historical or cultural Silesian references that would stick out ostentatiously.
Already at the first browsing through the magazine the reader`s attention is drawn to the fact that the floor is often given to some outstanding individuals. Here we find a sketch portrait of Gwidon Miklaszewski – departed nine years ago, a well-known illustrator, and above all a satirical graphic designer (Mr. Gwidon, Please…oh, Please… / Panie Gwidonie, proszę… no proszę by Grzegorz Sztoler). From this article we can find out how did his, being reprinted up until now, Please… (Proszę…) series for “Dziennik Zachodni” come into being, we will be acquainted with a few anecdotes from the artist`s life gathered from his past statements, even a note of mysticism can be discerned. The entirety is kept in a warm, in some places even a bit exaggerated but pleasant to read tone.
Another figure to take the floor in the June issue of “Silesia” is a parish priest from the church of Peter and Paul the Apostles in Katowice – Father Paweł Buchta. In a conversation with Stanisław Warmbrand (entitled There Was No Ghetto Here / Tu nie było getta) Father Buchta says a few extremely important things. The interview begins with a statement that Katowice one hundred years ago was a European “centre of tolerance, where a rabbi subbed for an ill priest and held religious classes, where the foundations of Israel were laid, where a Nobel Prize winner – Maria Geppert-Mayer was born and the fates of the Polish, German and Jewish people were interweaving”. The text repeatedly speaks about “Silesians of Jewish faith”, “Silesian Jews”, but not simply about Jews, which implies that, originally, sharing one place on Earth was the most important common feature for all Silesians, a feature more significant than faith. Apparently, something of that sense remained until now, as the citizens of Katowice, under Father Buchta`s command, have just started making efforts at renovating a Jewish cemetery situated in the area belonging to the parish of Peter and Paul the Apostles. Father Buchta tells about the Silesians having been on the horns of a dilemma during the times of Hitler (whether to save other people`s lives and risk one`s own neck?), about living in the vicinity of death camps, in the smoke from the crematoria. It is a prominent comment in the ongoing discussion on the Holocaust, in which the term of “Polish death camps” appears more and more frequently.
Also another article from the June issue of “Silesia” becomes an inherent part in the thread of a the need for commemoration. From the Depths of Hell (Z dna piekła) are the recollections of Henryk Mandelbaum – a body burner at Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp. It is a highly valuable look at the tragedy of the slaughtered, all the more so because seen by an eyewitness – a story about hopelessness of waiting for help, about resentment towards the world which did not raise alarm when looking at the Nazi crimes, but first and foremost – it is about admitting to problems with religion, which in camp conditions becomes something very distant.
The Returns
Silesia likes is to remember. It likes reminiscing, living partially in the past (an evidence in favour of that is the fact that the local dialect did not become a relic of the past, but it lives, develops and is generally doing well). “Silesia” also does not shun remembering. This time, the magazine reminisced, among other things, Gustaw Holoubek`s years of activity in Katowice. Hardly anyone remembers that such did exist. Totally erroneously, as Gustaw Holoubek spent as many as seven years in Katowice and worked there very hard and actively, encouraged by the Silesian work ethic and – maybe even better – by an extremely demanding assignment plan of Państwowe Teatry Śląsko – Dąbrowskie1, a part of which was at that time, dedicated to Stefan Wyspiański, Silesian Theatre in Katowice (after Stalin`s death, in honour of him, the city was renamed as Stalinogrod). How did Holoubek spend his seven years in Katowice, were they lean or of plenty, and why did he eventually move to Warsaw? – the answers to all these questions are found in a thorough seven-page article Gustaw Holoubek`s Years in Katowice – and his Returns to Silesia (Lata katowickie – i śląskie powroty Gustawa Holoubka) by Tadeusz Kijonka.
However, from the entire issue I was enchanted most by another, among those looking back in a melancholy manner, text – My Garden Autobiography (Moja ogródkowa autobiografia) by Bogdan Widera. The author had chosen a stylistic mix of feature and autobiography – a very funny one, strewn with anecdotes taken from his life. The subheadings were named with references to Mickiewicz`s poetical curriculum vitae: “Childhood Idyllic, Angelic” (“Dzieciństwo sielskie, anielskie”), “Youth Pompous and Surly” (“Młodość górna i chmurna”), “The Masculine Age, The Age of Defeat” (“Wiek męski, wiek klęski”). Fruit and vegetables from Mr. Widera`s allotment have, for his story`s characters, the aftertaste of zinc and lead (“nobody heard about the ecology issue at that time in Poland”), the reader, without a shadow of doubt, has an opportunity to smell the odour of the epoch gone by. What really fascinated me were the descriptions of community debates, rallies and training courses, participation in which was compulsory if people wanted to even dream of having, so called, “działki pracownicze” (allotments rented from their own employers). Or the accounts of the evening gatherings in “lauby”, that is to say – garden houses, where they sat over currant wine and mandolin music… However, when writing his “garden autobiography”, Mr. Widera had also another goal in mind, apart from providing the audience with entertainment. Namely, to raise our awareness of the disastrous legal state of the land, on which those allotments are situated. To avoid boring the reader dry facts, were smuggled throughout the text in the form of small tables. It was a very clever move showing how politics (tables) forces its way into the bucolic life of garden allotments (standard text) to eventually start threatening this life (a table is, obviously, more conspicuous than a regular text).
A Wide Range of Possibilities
In my favourite scene from Andrzej Kondratiuk`s Dziewczyny do wzięcia (Eligible Girls), country girls ask just-met men from Warsaw (Engineer and Master Degree Holder) about their suggestions on how to spend time together. “There is a wide range of possibilities” – says the Engineer. “What are they?” – the girls delve further. “A very wide range” – comes the answer.
The nature of “Silesia” is quite similar. When a reader reaches the point of becoming familiar with it, when he or she feels safe and comfortable while holding the magazine in their laps because they already know what they might expect of it, just then comes the element of surprise, something least expected – an “alien” text. In the June issue it is an excerpt from a novel by Marta Fox – Kate the Coquette (Kasia podrywaczka), tale of adventures and reflections of a lass in the age when you call your parents “old foggies” and when an outing to the disco is such an exciting experience! The text, placed between an interview with associate professor Andrzej Romanowicz PhD. and, described above, Henryk Mandelbaum`s concentration camp memories, really catches the readers unaware. Is this a place appropriate for a piece of literature full of expressions like “Macs rulezzzz!” or “I`m in deep shit”? In my humble opinion – it is not. I am not saying that the literary output of Fox should be given no space in the magazine but I think that in a good-quality periodical everything should have its own place. Problematical issues should not be interwoven with trivial ones just with the aim of gaining diversity. If in a special “Literature” section, the latter would be unquestionably acceptable, as obviously literature is governed by rules much different than those of a non-literary style. Therefore, I appeal to the editorial office of “Silesia” for laying the texts out more carefully so as none of them would suffer. Let the readership be taken from one style to another smoothly.
However, despite my criticism towards it, the chaotic nature of “Silesia” possibly proves, something significant, namely – being sought after by me – the real nature of Silesia. Maybe there is no longer only one Silesia (has never been?) with a homogenous and coherent nature? Nowadays, its character is the sum of the characters of all Silesians, who in spite of being different still have something in common. In order to find out what this feature is and whether or not I am right, it is necessary to look through not only the June issue of “Silesia” but the upcoming ones as well.
Anna Ryguła
Translated by Magdalena Kazimierska
Discussed journals: Śląsk