A lecture at the University of Luxembourg, founded in 2003, was the introduction and "shattering" of Luxembourg myths. It's American to be astonished by the tiny nation's enormous feat of linguistics. The most fascinating aspect is how contextuality determines language-of-use rather than regionality (e.g. Belgium and Switzerland) and how Luxembourg's historical place in the "heart" has shaped this multilingualism. I think, perhaps, that it is also American to question the burden of such a feat. Eg.: are the linguistic requirements of citizenship too difficult and thus out of reach to immigrants? (Or does the multilingualism improve the city's appeal to immigrants and comfortability to expats? In ways it is both inclusive and exclusive. But is this even a fair criticism?) And: do the many languages present a burden to the society's ability to "progress"? Is, for example, continuing the use of Luxembourgish a non-economical tradition comparable to the adoration of royalty in the democratic world? [To be "blunt," poignant and loud:] is Luxembourgish economically pointless, a relic of an age past, waiting its time to vanish like Gaelic? Will Luxembourgish, as a "symbol of resistance and social cohesion" (158), have a purpose in the future of a citizenry that sees itself as increasingly European? The "History of the Grand Duchy" offers one answer: authorities hope the language will help integrate the nation's increasing immigrant population.
It is also American to be completely charmed by the homely feel of a parliament that serves half a million people. I could brag about sitting in seat 68, that of M. Jean Asselborn, the Vice Prime Minister. Before the house of parliament was refurbished 12 years ago it was said that it was much more modest. The rest of the city is quite modest. Asphalt grey roofs - some pointy, most like folded paper - crown windowed buildings in shades of eggshell and beige, some with a touch of cobalt, mustard or rouge. There are a handful of statues, inornate ruins, parks and hedges. Most buildings, resembling violins, bear steel shapes bent into italicized f 's; across some facades they spell out letters and numbers. The region's greenery, hills and bluffs speak for the city's grandeur. The house of parliament, dressed in rose marble and gold accents, red carpets and olive walls, paintings and vases, was only a few steps beyond modest. Perhaps this is the mark of a nation recognizing its luxurious status, respected identity, and a GDP per capita that doubles America's.
Yet the Historical Museum of Luxembourg featured an exhibit all about poverty in Luxembourg and Europe. With such a wealthy image, it's easy for people to deny the reality of poverty in Luxembourg; this exhibit serviced common ignorance with artistic and factual exposure. The bottom floors of the museum showcased the history of the country. Facts and artifacts abounded, but the best feature was the large wooden models of Luxembourg throughout the centuries, allowing viewers to see how the city has developed from hardly-a-town to a fortified mecca to what it is today, and how the city has shaped itself to the landscape and the threat of its neighbors. These progressions are set into their historical contexts, e.g., how the fortifications were destroyed because the great powers declared the city neutral.
A few words on Luxembourg as the Heart of Europe: for one who's only travelled through Germany, France, the Netherlands and Belgium, it certainly feels like Luxembourg is Europa's beating heart. Through metaphor its story reflects the European experience - as both a microcosm and an ideal. The Luxembourger, it seems, is as European as he is a Luxembourger. Nationalism, however, is as European as it is universal:
Ons Heemechtsland dat mir so déifAn onsen Hierzer dron.Notr'chère et adorable patrieDont notr'âme est remplie.Die Heimat, die als teures GutIn unseren Herzen ruht.
No comments:
Post a Comment