in broad terms, Europe (read: countries west of the Baltics, because famously we leave out everything both surrounding and below them when discussing Europe) is a profoundly touched-upon talking point here in my college environment (heavy emphasis on my — I’ve noted that most people seem to view honors as a personal hell or form of punishment). I admit, I too am guilty of referencing a broad geographic area of which I have very little concrete understanding of — having never visited a single (other) country, being locked into the USA entirely, and having only a passing understanding of the history of most European countries. though I find it worth mentioning I feel I know a bit more about the Mediterranean as a whole than most, but I digress.
in my honors course, aptly titled “Ways of Knowing”, I was met with what I am going to call a “standard college experience that I feel awful even mentioning but itself is worth mentioning”. a girl, blessed be her heart or whatever, said (in response to dialogue concerning man’s brutal overtaking of the natural world and desire to conquer the horizon before them) that it is such an “American” concept — that is, the conquering of a landscape. she then went on the reference Europe in various ways (citing no specific countries, locations, timelines, etc. (but again, who can blame her, this is the American way)) as if to regard the Old World as devoid of a proverbial raping of the Earth.
here I find myself, awestruck. what is the current forest cover in the British Isles? 10%? perhaps even less than that? what of large mammal populations (sans humans) across Europe as a whole? any mind paid for elk or bears (of which even North America sees no abundance of now) that once roamed both sweeping Irish forests and Germanic plaines alike? of course not, because somehow it’s neglected to the American mind that there are no more elk, no more bears, hell — nearly no large mammals at all in Europe. it is, of-course, worth mentioning that Europe as a whole (continent) has seen grand rewilding efforts come to fruition, but it changes little my overall point. loss of megafauna and centuries of deforestation are only two points of contact for which to find annoyance in this classmates way of thinking. but, again, I should state that I have no personal problem with her. I’m easily 10 years older than her, it should be my job to have some more information squirreled away in my head about nearly everything. but it is still worth mentioning this.
an epitaph, when thought of in its classic definition, is an inscription upon a tombstone. a poem, a commemorative line, something of a finale (that is, a final HOORAY of sorts) to the person or thing whose tombstone is scrawled upon. Europe is neither a tombstone, nor in a state of finality. this, to me, is something to remember when we compare our young American (truly still British-American) soil to the soil of the fathers before our fathers. several hundred years may seem quite a distance when just decades seem like eons to most of us, but it is not quite enough time to distance ourselves from the humanity and society that shaped the foundation of our lives today. we may not act like, read like, eat like, build like — any other manner of doing something “like” our foundational American humans. but we think much the same. not in exact thought process, no, but in that we think at all. we are not so far removed, kilometers or miles not withstanding.
this may seem like a curveball ending to my rambling, but I would ask that anyone reading this, myself included, remember something from this.
one thing, one person, a thing yet still existing here living, which all manner of things sentient and not do, cannot be an epitaph, nor have one. we are not final until we have been removed from a mortal bond. neither then, can a thing be final until it has been removed from a mortal bond (yet quite a thought, because both things and people continue to exist far beyond their own lifespan or viable time of use on this Earth). perhaps, do not think of my final thought so plainly as “nothing is final until it is dead or buried”, but more as — the past bears not finality. ancient Rome is gone in the sense that you cannot visit it in its entirety, yes — but you cannot compare the modern world to Rome (nor modern Rome to Rome) as if the history of ancient Rome is completely and totally finalized with a wonderful granite slab atop it and some roses leftover for memory. Rome today, still exists, it is still present and changing, much like the rest of us.
Europe is not an epitaph. at least, not an epitaph made whole.
and hey, for fun, here is a picture of me from Halloween of last year as we quickly approach Halloween of THIS year — I’ll be a sexy cowboy this year.
Leave a Reply