Prague: A Bohemian Rhapsody of Beauty

           Winter Prague   Photo by Ken LaRive

 Since the Communist putch in 1948, Czechoslovakia has struggled under totalitarian government. The Velvet revolution just twenty years ago finally put an end to that corrosive yoke, and today, Prague, of Czech Republic, is free to expand and grow. So beautiful, like a flower opening after a long arid isolation, Prague is now displaying its petals to millions of pilgrim tourists. What is being discovered echoes throughout Europe and the world, and what was once considered the heart of Europe, has returned in spectacular grandeur. Prague has survived by the tenacious will of a people tied to their Austro-Hungarian roots of earth and philosophy. The Berlin Wall has now crumbled in this wake, in spite of the mantras and brain washing techniques that bolstered up that folly of blind socialistic faith.

Of course, my anti-communistic tendency is said by my European friends to be typically American in nature, as some of them are Socialists. Actually, there are so many political factions to be found in such a small area in Europe, that it is rather hard to discern. Yet, I don’t believe in socialism. It’s my belief that creativity and motivation is smothered under it, but then we are also beginning to suffocate under that blanket too, here in the U.S.…

Of course most of the world I’ve seen goes the way of supply and demand. Even the Dali Lama is published. So then, Prague is no exception. Catering to the masses that come there to retrace their ancestry, or to find that elemental answer buried behind the facade of Cyberspace coffee bars, puppet shows and Mozart concerts, is all part of the spectacle. There are hawkers dressed like Wolfgang on every street corner, giving away Xerox fliers for museum, symphony and hotel. As the day’s light fades, they congregate in clusters in Old Town Square; their flamboyant feathered tricorne hats, satin breeches, and white wigs, is after all, just marketing strategies. Surely, Wolfgang Amadeus loved Prague, and spent a goodly amount of time walking these streets. He wouldn’t have produced his famous classical Prague otherwise.

Politics has always seemed a dirty business to me. Comrades in bare Spartan rooms, as the cold war raged on, played out their power struggles here. The power of information was gathered by informants and spooks, and stimulated another kind of war. It raged behind these beautiful facades for forty years, and will probably never be completely known or understood. Today, politics are played out in the open, and with dynamic verve. They attempt to embrace our liberal Democratic norms, are sometimes questionable, especially with a westernized capitalism that is new, and mostly unregulated. Along with these new ideas have come feuding economic scandals, fierce and dirty privatization, and brutal political power grabs. Ah! Capitalism! For those who have the time and inclination to monitor such things, it must be fun to watch. But for me…

I prefer to walk the ancient cobbled roads bundled warmly to the soft new snow fluttering down. In this amazing beauty I want nothing more but to hold Maddy’s hand as we explore into the night. Turning from narrow corridors across walkways built by the great Karel IV, we emerge into the dazzling space of Old Town Square. Historians agree that Karel IV was intelligent and farsighted, and his fingerprint is on St Vitus Cathedral, Charles Bridge, and countless other jewels including the first University of Central Europe. In every direction there are wonders to behold, unfolding with twilight’s play of light, and every winding turn. Prague vibrates with new life, but also with the weight of the centuries as well, and in the mist of its overwhelming beauty, one can dart into an Internet café and email a friend. For about a quid (60 US cents), a steaming cup of expresso is brought with a tray of pastries and cheese, and as Maddy’s warm kiss and cold nose touches my cheek, Prague truly reveals itself…