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    THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY
    THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY
    THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY
    Ebook85 pages1 hour

    THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY

    By Alena Goldberg and Gabriel Goldberg

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    About this ebook

    The book is a work of fiction, a memory revisited, reconstructed, rethought and rewritten. The inspiration for writing the book was the life under totalitarian regime of former Czechoslovakia filled with emotional and existential difficulties. Not surprisingly, the characters find themselves in on-going conflicts with the excessive, often violent powers if sexual or political. Under the dominating powers, they struggle to achieve their political, sexual or personal freedom, often at high cost.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAlena Goldberg
    Release dateMar 14, 2021
    ISBN9781735362441
    THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY

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      Book preview

      THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY - Alena Goldberg

      THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY

      TALES OF PRAGUE

      ALENA GOLDBERG

      This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are used either fictitiously or are products of the author’s imagination.

      THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MEMORY

      TALES OF PRAGUE

      © 2021 Alena Goldberg

      All rights reserved 

      Cover design Gabriel Goldberg

      © 2021 Alena Goldberg

      ISBN 9781735362441

      For the Velvet Revolution and President Vaclav Havel

      INTRODUCTION

      The inspiration for writing the book was my own life under the totalitarian regime of former Czechoslovakia filled with emotional and existential difficulties. It is a memory revisited, reconstructed, rethought and rewritten. The characters of the novel search in their memories for something or somebody; their lives merge together and fall apart. Some of them look desperately for the truth, often deeply buried in the society’s injustice or the lies of individuals. Not surprisingly, they find themselves in on-going conflicts between their own emotions and reasoning while resisting the pressures of excessive powers, if sexual or political. They struggle to define and achieve their personal or political freedom, often at high costs.

      PROLOGUE

      I am crying for the loss of my love, for the loss of my freedom, for the loss of the past that is still not forgotten. Where are our loves and the freedom we had fought for? Walking against the current, against contentment, against ourselves is what we do now. What are we doing walking away from our own reality? On the other hand, just think about it, a twitch in the corner of his lips and you are falling in love again. It is like a single leaf on the tree you just happen to look at. An ordinary leaf and then a light breeze blows on it, making it move slightly and beautifully in the way you always remember. It is the feeling of freedom you get, walking through your dark cave of ignorance when suddenly a bright stripe of sunlight begins to lighten your path. You always remember that. Like a mystical force of nature, it transcends your understanding to the higher realms of knowledge. It opens your mind and fills your heart with that strong desire to go and get what you have always wanted: love, freedom, the meaning of your life and the understanding of how to live. You will strive for it, you will search for it or even fight for it and you will find it.

      PART ONE

      Vera 1978

      RED OCTOBER IN PRAGUE

      Karl turns his head towards me: Here, here is the place. They call it White Mountain. Decaying yellow patches of grass below the old pear trees are partially covered by the red and gold leaves of October. Today, everything reminds me of something else. October, falling leaves, golden yellow on blood red; it feels like an image from a history lesson: Petersburg’s Golden Winter Palace in 1917 during the Russian Revolution, shooting and stabbing with the blood red flags above. Thinking about violence often brings to my mind the only type of love making I have remembered. It is the push and shove, the struggle between a master and a slave. I keep asking myself why I am here with Karl who keeps persuading me for almost a year to have sex with him. He is my friend from the past. We grew up on the same street of a poor working class neighborhood, too close to each other to ever date or marry. Eventually, we drifted apart and married our dates, but later became closed colleagues at work. Karl was ambitious and quickly climbed to a high position. He often boasted how he had cheated on his wife with his female boss to be promoted. He has managed to have sex with many women outside his marriage without any commitment. Just for the freedom of it, as he says. Anyway, I think cheating is like treachery and is wrong and disgusting. Not that I care about it much, not any more. My husband is barely here. His job and his slutty behavior have taken him away from me. Still, I do not want to be a traitor like him or Karl. It is not my choice, though one should be free to choose if not harming the other. I took this existentialist belief for mine own, in order to at least sense some freedom since in the reality it does not exist. Let’s free ourselves, Karl suddenly proclaims loudly with his propagandist style of shouting messages to the masses, Let’s be free from our obligations! Sex is an act of freedom! I resent this talk of banal persuasion, it is embarrassing. Besides that, I believe that actual freedom could be achieved only through an active resistance.

      I am deep in my thoughts, walking along and ignoring Karl when all of a sudden he oversteps me, stopping on the front of me. He grabs my shoulder with his right hand, his left squeezes my waist. Slowly, he forces my body to the ground. My knees begin to tremble. I cannot handle this unexpected feeling of fatigue that overwhelms my body stiffening under his physical pressure. My mind switches off and I am out my reality. Are you a party member? I ask him instead of fighting against his force. I love you, he whispers into my ear. Stop it! Are you involved with the communist party? I shout now. There is no reply. His redden eyes look into mine, his whole face is laughing at me. I am trapped in a loveless embrace. I cannot run away; I cannot move anymore. Karl is on top of me, his legs are now between mine and his eyes stare blindly into my frightened face. He yells at me: What’s wrong with you? What for all those questions? Let it go! You know that I have obligations to my family. We want to travel abroad and I want to finish my engineering degree. We will need a bigger apartment. Yes, yes, yes, I need the party; I have to be a member! I am a member! We all are party members one way or another. Remember Vera, you live in this shit too, you must try to adapt. I do not dictate the politics, I am not the master. He takes a deep breath and continues to intimidate me with his loud voice: Forget your stupid dreams of freedom and remember that you are here a slave for life. Return to your reality, everybody in this country is a communist with or without the party membership. There is no difference between us. Come on now, sweetie, he controls his anger for a while, Why so many questions? Do not make me to force you. I want to give you this freedom now. We may not be here tomorrow.

      My mind is busy with recollections; my thoughts just wonder, leaving my body unguarded. This garden on White Mountain had once belonged to somebody.

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