Homer

 

As I am very slowly going trough a bad case of the cold, I wanted to start writing something cheerful and positive - to get my mind off this never-ending curse of sneezing, coughing and wheezing around - so let's mention my figurine of Homer.

When I was a kid, there were two very elegant and sophisticated ladies in my childhood, lets say a distant relatives - they raised my stepfather and were his widowed grandmother and aunt. They were always very nice to me and if after all these years I remember anything about them is that for me they were embodiment of culture - impeccable manners, nice clothes, lots of patience with little me and always very well spoken. (Curiously, they would spoken Hungarian to each other, when they didn't want me to understand - they were not Hungarian themselves but belonged to a certain pre-WW2 generation that was educated and bilingual, probably spoke German as well.) I did not receive much affection during my childhood, so their careful treatment of me was always highly appreciated.

I still remember some beautiful black & white family photo portraits that were framed on the wall - apparently it used to be almost intimidatingly large family and everybody looked super chic, with moustachioed men with their slick hair, ladies with fashionable 1920s bobs and pearls. Sadly, I was too young to ask any questions so I have no idea who these people were, but I do remember that my stepfather's mother died in a childbirth from sepsis and it must have been heartbreaking, since the medicine for that was discovered soon afterwards. (I think her name was Margot, strange that I remember that). It was her sister and mother who took care of raising the little boy, since his father was in the army and absent. There was also an occasional mention of cousin Eugen who left behind him a beautiful collection of 1920s books and I always felt a warm connection to this gentleman who had passed long ago but must had same love for reading as me - it was a connection trough time. His inherited collection of books was carelessly stored somewhere just so it could be sold to antiquarian bookseller, there was absolutely no love or understanding what it is. 

Back to the two ladies - we would occasionally visit them on Sundays and they were always very nice to me, giving me occasional books and talking to me gently. They also had a little figurine of Homer on top of their old fashioned TV that for some reason left a big impression on me. As soon as I started reading, I was fascinated with Greek mythology and all my life I wanted to have little figurine of Homer, just like they had. When they passed away, I was very sad that I couldn't get my hands on it, it was the only thing I wanted to keep as a memory of them. Well, guess what, many years later I went on vacation in Athens and found exactly same little Homer - to my biggest surprise, I realised that it was actually nothing sophisticated or elegant at all, it was just a cheap souvenir sold in any kiosk around (and as such it was probably bought for them) so the whole idea of this being something very chic was just in my head. Strange how we keep some ideas in our heads for many years and than eventually we see it differently. However, I am still very pleased that I own it and in a way it means different things to me now - it is my own souvenir from Athens + it reminds me on them.