The “Cibulský” seminar travelled to the eternal city and returned with eternal memories

In human life, once in a while, there are moments when things unexpectedly fall into place. When we are at the right place at the right time, an opportunity presents itself and might not present itself again for a long time. For example, we go into a rose garden by chance and for that brief moment it offers you the beauty of its flowers and fills your nostrils with a sweet fragrance that penetrates deep into your mind. If you come into a good group and in a good mood, your inner rose can also bloom. We and the “Cibulský” seminar were lucky, and we were in the right place at the right time and the right mood.

This seminar has been at the Faculty of Humanities for six years. Under professor Martin Putna a small collective of the home seminar goes through the great works of the European cultural tradition and tries to establish a dialogue with them. At least recently, it was a particularly successful dialogue, resulting in a new book translation of Rabelais's Gargantua, which was published last year and still decorates the display of the Academia publishing house.

However, this semester professor Putna uses his sabbatical and works in Rome on his work. Hence, we would not be able to continue our book dialogue this semester. That is unless we start to think beyond the boundaries of normal teaching.

Thanks to the support our students received from the faculty, we were able to move the seminar to the Eternal City and merge it into eight intense days. We made an exception and left the idea of a dialogue with a book for an attempt at a dialogue with a city in the context of European cultural history.

Photo: Ondřej Trojan

You might ask, how did it end? How do you have a dialogue with a city that is known not only for its beauty but also for its crowds of tourists who complicate any type of dialogue? It is hard to describe. Let's say that we were taking a walk through time. We removed the veils that cover the city. We stepped on the ancient stones of the Via Appia, sacrificed to the ancient deities in the mithraeum. We saw Peter walking back to Rome and sitting in chains. We visited the services of the first Christians, held secretly in the patricians' houses. We have seen the power of Popes rise and fall. We admired Michelangelo's frescoes and Bernini's bodies solidified in stone. With Garibaldi, we defended the Roman Republic and endured the blows of the heavy boots of men in black shirts. We loudly sang resistance songs and watched Rome, which no longer exists with Pasolini. As if the goddess of Rome herself was our guide.

I can continue with naming places we have visited. I can describe what we saw and did. I could even write a whole travel book, but you would never know more than before about the dialogue with a city. Who will dare to reveal the last veil that covers the goddess?

The photos might give you a little hint. However not the photos made every day, quick snaps of a mobile camera. But the real photos, those where the author thought and awaited an emotion or a special moment. A faculty photographer Ondřej Trojan is a part of this seminar. In addition to reporting for FHS, he also engages in artistic photography. Thanks to this our journey gained unusual luxury- we have a few pictures that will hopefully bring you a little closer to the words and sentences with which Rome answered our questions. Can photos and pictures frozen in time and space capture words and sentences? Check them out and judge for yourself.

If it seems like they are silent, try to listen closer. If they are still mute, the only option left is to go to Rome yourself. Then you will find out that what seems at first sight to be mute, without a voice, can still articulate and pronounce well. Whether it is a photo or the city itself.

It seems that we really were at the right time, in the right mood, in great company in a wonderful place. Similarly, like the rose garden we mentioned, even we were capable of seeing a rose bloom and it left a trace of knowledge in us that we will carry with us for a long time (or maybe forever?).

David Plass, translation Melanie S. Terry