Like most writers, I get inspired by the people I observe and the stories I hear. Nothing strange there. This is what most writers do.
What spooks me is the way in which I seem to attract the people who tell me these stories.
I was at a social gathering the other day sitting next to a gentleman I had never met before. We were chatting and after a few minutes he began telling me about his childhood in post-war Vienna.
I could not believe my ears. How could he have known about my obsession with what went on in Vienna during that time?
I know this might have been nothing more than civilised pre-theatre chit-chat. But you have to admit…it is a little strange.
The gentleman kept talking and I began seeing him in my mind…I was there… following him through the streets of what looked like an endless repetition of a scene from The Third Man.
This English boy in short pants (were boys still wearing short pants in those days..?) was not afraid of the horrible destruction surrounding him… Every house in ruins contained unlimited potential for adventure (as a young girl, I was insanely drawn to deserted buildings).
The house in the centre of Vienna where the boy lived had a concierge whose husband had been badly traumatised by the war. At night, the poor man would run out and disappear into the night. The wife would run upstairs and beg the boy’s father (“the only can-do person in the building”) to help her look for him.
I could picture some of the horrible memories that were chasing the concierge’s husband though the darkness of gutted Vienna.
The gentleman sitting next to me read my mind: “Everybody had a story in those days…”.
Would I have had the courage to listen to those stories? I know from my years in Czechoslovakia just how difficult it is. You have to be able to marshal strength and compassion from the deepest corners of your character.
And would I have had the courage to write them down? For what purpose? I cannot stand war voyeurism. I would only have done it to help heal memories. But how do you heal memories?
I was back in the foyer of a London theatre…and could not wait for the performance to start….
Photo: thanks to criterioncollection.blogspot.com
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