Cities and Memory. 5.

In Maurilia, the traveler is invited to visit and at the same time view several old postcards that represent how the city was before: the same identical piazza with a hen instead of the bus station, a concert gazebo instead of the railway bridge, two young girls with a white parasol instead of the explosives factory. To make sure the inhabitants are not offended, the traveler must praise the city in the postcards and remark that he prefers it to the present city, taking care to restrict any criticism of its changes to within certain parameters. For he must recognize that the magnificence and prosperity of Maurilia, a thriving metropolis compared to the old, provincial Maurilia, does not make up for a certain lost charm, which can be enjoyed now only in the old postcards; while before, with provincial Maurilia alive and well, this charm could not be observed in the least, nor indeed could it be noticed today if Maurilia had remained as it once was. In any case the metropolis has only increased its charm, which means that, through what it has become, one can reflect on what it once was.

Take care not to tell the inhabitants that sometimes different cities succeed one another on the same soil, under the same name, being born and dying without notice, unable to communicate with one another. At times even the names of the inhabitants remain the same, along with the accents of their voices and the outlines of their faces. But the gods that dwell beneath their names and over their places have gone without saying a thing, and strangers have settled in their stead. It is idle to ask oneself if these gods are better or worse than those from former times, given that no relationship exists between the two, just as the old postcards do not represent Maurilia as it was, but another city that happened to be called Maurilia, like this one.