Tag Archives: monuments

Buzludzha Monument — to Socialist and nationalist Struggle, and 50s Science Fiction Паметник на Бузлуджа

It is visible for miles, perched precipitous, high on its mountain above fields golden with sunflowers. It is an incredible absurd sciencefictional thing. A flying saucer tethered to a grounding skysoaring shard of concrete.

It sits on earth of great significance, impossible beauty. Site of the last battle of rebel Hadzhi Dimitâr against the Ottomans. He received a fatal wound here, and it was for many years known by his name.

Between 1877 and 1878 a number of battles were fought here for control of Shipka pass, Russian General Gourko facing down the Ottomans, you look down on the monument itself from here.

Then on 2nd of August, 1891 the 1st Bulgarian Socialist Congress was held here under cover of celebrations of the deeds of Hadzhi Dimitâr. There is a monument to Dimitâr Blagoev at the turn off for the monument.

Monument to Dimitâr Blagoev

Some Nazis were killed here as well in 1944, and three partisans lost their lives in the ambush (though Bulgaria’s government under Tsar Boris III officially supported the Nazis until 1944). This massive 1981 installation was designed by architect Georgi Stoilov, as Richard F. Morton writes:

He lists both the Roman Pantheon and the sci-fi films of the 1950s amongst his inspirations for Buzludzha.

It was meant to symbolise all of this history as a museum and meeting space, but after decades of varying types and degrees of Stalinist rule, the fact that it was built with not-always-so-voluntary labour and subscriptions…it is not a thing I can love wholeheartedly. After it was abandoned in 1989 looters (rumored to include government officials) stripped what they could like the copper from the ceilings, smashed the red star thinking the glass to be rubies, pulled down concrete letters to leave them scattered across the grass.

All this and also the villain’s lair in Mechanic 2.

What it looks like today:

What it looked like once (this is borrowed from the best site by far about the monument, with an extensive history and many more photos, especially of the inside which you are no longer allowed to risk life and limb to see. Have a look!):

Beneath it sit this amazing sculpture of unity, two hands holding torches.

After arriving in Veliko Tarnovo, I looked at the book I was reading and there they were again.

We had to get a special tour out here as we didn’t have a car, but well worth it and we enjoyed it immensely.

Père Lachaise Cemetery — Aux Morts de la Commune

Père Lachaise has a completely different feel to other cemeteries I have known, whether in the UK and US, or in Latin America. Cemeteries play so many different roles in cities — too often forgotten is just the sanitary infrastructure, they bury the dead and all of their contagion safely. Paris must have suffered some of the same overflow of bodies, fumes disease as London as its population grew beyond the capacity of local graveyards. They also honour the dead in the name of God, family and country: families remembering those they have lost, cities and nations remembering those who played more public roles. This perhaps is what is most visible here from family to family:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Père Lachaise Cemetery

But people like us come to Père Lachaise Cemetery because of all who are buried here. Above all for the two of us, for the role this cemetery played as public space, defensible space– the site of the last stand of the Paris Commune. Upon their defeat, 147 people were lined up against this wall and shot, then buried in a trench here:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Daudenarde -- Commune of Paris 27th May, 1871
Daudenarde — Commune of Paris 27th May, 1871

Like Marx’s grave in Highgate Cemetery, London, there is now a cluster here of those who have fought this same struggle. Including Marx’s daughter Laura and her husband Paul Lafargue, and some of the children of his daughter Jenny Longuet.

Père Lachaise Cemetery

On the opposite side, however, there are the much larger monuments to the soldiers who killed them. You learn much about a country from its monuments.

Père Lachaise Cemetery

This is why we came, this wall of the martyrs. No one else came near, they clustered instead around the graves now more famous. This gave space to mourn, but I had to mourn too that their struggle and their deaths are passing from common knowledge and wider honour.

We saw the graves of other famous names too, we bought a map at the entrance and stared in amazement at the names upon names of those we knew. Circled them, tried to find them all.

Many of the wonderful momento Mori we stumbled over by chance — like Etienne Gaspard Robertson, ‘a prominent Belgian physicist, stage magician and influential developer of phantasmagoria’:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Père Lachaise Cemetery

This sufraggette among them, Hubertine Auclert:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Some we knew to seek out, like early film-maker and purveyor of wonder, Georges Melies:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

In the vaults — I confess Ukrainian anarchist Nestor Makhno was a surprise:

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Another among them Richard Wright, who lived and died here in Paris.

The biggest surprise – Miguel Ángel Asturias Rosales (1899 – 1974), Guatemalan author who I have long admired, and never ever expected to find here until I stopped bewildered in front of this Mayan stele.

Père Lachaise Cemetery

We sought out Daumier, though, and found him after much effort.

Père Lachaise Cemetery

Gustave Dore we never did find. But here are many others that we did: Pierre Bourdieu, Oscar Wilde, Balzac, Proust, Nadar, Eluard, Gertrude Stein, Max Ernst, Georges Perec, Apollinaire, Michelet, Saint-Simon, Haussman, Abelard and Heloise and so many others that fully deserve to be in this list, but I could not manage to name them all…

Père Lachaise Cemetery

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Breath and Memory in Highgate Cemetery

Several years ago now, I went to a talk at Highgate Cemetery. A niche talk for a very niche (but rather fascinating) audience interested in Victorian grave sculptures. It may also have been just the fact of a talk at a cemetery with wine and all that drew them as it had me. But there was no chance to wander round, and somehow I had never been back. Until our latest wander through North London, along Parkland Walk — of my favourite green spaces in all of London, these two both rate high.

South London though, I’d been to a couple cemeteries in South London, those great new cemeteries springing up along the city’s outer limits to deal with the little church graveyards full to overflowing. Lambeth Cemetery in Tooting Bec, next to St George’s hospital where I had an appointment. After a lonesome visit to West Norwood Cemetery I had rather sworn off them, it was sad and grim and I wondered why I ever thought I liked them.

I realise the answer to that question is trees.

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Like Arnos Vale in Bristol, Highgate is beautiful, eerie, splendid.

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Our lives and deaths as part of a natural world so much bigger than we are, part of trees and forests primeval in their swallowing up of our memories and returning us to a natural cycle. Finally, to breath part of a natural cycle here in London. Just to fucking breathe.

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

I like to feel able to embrace that larger reality while fighting like hell to break all of our human cycles of oppression and horror, the second reason this is such a wonderful place.

Highgate Cemetery

Marx’s original grave, before his followers moved him to larger, more monumental grave of infinitely more questionable taste.

Highgate Cemetery

Yet I confess I cried — unexpected and quite embarrassing really. It was not Marx’s grave so much as the cluster of people who have chosen to be buried near him, people who have dedicated their lives to changing the world we live in for the better, and whose actions and words have all impacted my own struggle and thinking. Beginning with Eleanor Marx, who I love immensely and is buried with her father as though she were not worth her own monument. There is also Claudia Jones:

Highgate Cemetery

And so many others, from all around the world:

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Someone else who had a great impact on me when I was growing up? The incomparable Douglas Adams:

Highgate Cemetery

George Elliot:

Highgate Cemetery

Those who I have come to honour more recently through my partner’s love of film:

Highgate Cemetery

Carl Mayer, the cowriter of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari:

Highgate Cemetery

I confess, too, that I have no small enjoyment from some of the weird, wonderful and strange things to be found in places like this:

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery

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