The Czech emperor has a whole new wardrobe.

Wednesday evening I went to see Severed Head of State play a pretty good show at Klub 007, a legendary venue in Prague, situated in one of the campus-buildings up the hills. It was a chance for me to meet up with some nice people as well, Nuno and Jenny, who introduced me to some other people.
After the show we descended the Petřín hill to get to the tram stop, and the view of Prague at night was breathtaking. Of course, at moments like that I never have my camera with me. Today I went back up, and although it’s slightly less spectacular by day, it was nonetheless a nice (and sometimes extremely steep) walk.

On top of the hill is the Petřín observation tower, which looks like a miniature Eiffel Tower. Inside the tower, in the basement next to the toilets (what an ungrateful location) you can find the museum dedicated to Jará Cimrman, one of the most famous Czech people of all time.
Jará Cimrman, a playwright and inventor, was born either in 1850, 1869 or 1874 in Vienna and died in Prague in 1914. He is held (nearly) responsible for some great discoveries and was involved in a lot of important events at the turn of the 19th century. He helped Thomas Edison work on the light bulb; proposed the Panama canal to the U.S. government; taught the theory of relativity to Albert Einstein (and was never given credits for it) and advised Gustave Eiffel on the construction of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The Cimrman-museum is full of pictures, personal stuff and prototypes of his inventions, such as the ‘fire-fighting bike’.

It may seem clear by now that Jará Cimrman is not real. His character was made up in the 1960’s by a few Czech actors and was first brought up in a popular radio show called Nealkoholická vinárna U Pavouka (‘Spider's Non-alcoholic Wineroom’; I haven’t figured out this bizar name yet).
But this is not just some old, dusty practical joke: Jará Cimrman is still very popular in the Czech Republic. He doesn’t only have a museum devoted to him; there is also a Jará Cimrman Theatre in Prague that only shows plays he supposedly has written, and when a Czech television network decided to organise a contest for ‘The Greatest Czech’ a few years ago, Jará Cimrman was the designated winner, had he not been disqualified.
I was surprised by the thoroughness of the whole 'joke'; one quick glance at the museum itself is enough to understand how important this myth was and still is to the Czech. I think the explanation behind the whole fictionalization of this ‘should be hero’ (a slogan at the entrance of the museum reads “Genius, who has not become famous.”) could lie in the Czech sense of humour, which seems to be very sarcastic, and fifty years of Communism. In the Communist era, the emphasis was on bringing out all the good the (Czechoslovakian) culture had brought forth, so when someone came up with this undiscovered failed hero who was also a playwright, the government allowed his plays to be performed. And for what I know, they were (of course) full of sarcastic comments; on the Communist government itself, Czech culture and basically everything else one could comment on. A very creative concept, which obviously hasn’t outdated yet.

Typically, the only ‘image’ of Cimrman that can be found is this bust, that was of course destroyed. There are no pictures of him; the greatest Czech alive remains anonymous, despite his incredible life-story.



On a different note: a lot of people have asked me how I'm doing so far. To be honest, I have some difficulties answering this question. I'm doing well of course: I'm in a great city, I walk around a lot, discover new things every day, write, drink coffee, eat good food, buy some books or music. But I don't always realise that I am actually here, now: living here and working here, alone. Going to a show the other night and talking to some likeminded people made me very aware of the fact that I am 1500 km away from everyone and everything that is so incredibly dear to me: my friends, my parents (who live even further away, in France), my band, my house (oh, how I already miss living alone and doing whatever I want, without roommates looking over my shoulder!), Amsterdam. My life. It's like my existence has been put on hold and I am taking a 10 week time-out. Which is good, of course, and I think I really needed it right now. But it can be very hard nontheless. I find myself wondering if my friends will forget me during my absence; if my bandmembers will simply recrute another bassplayer; if my house will burn down.... I wonder if my life would cease to exist and in 10 weeks, I'd discover I have nothing to come back to. I know (well, I assume) this is nonsense, but the thought never really leaves my mind.

So: I'm doing pretty good. I'm having fun, I'm relaxed, I feel inspired and I feel good about the way I'm handling myself here. But for an insecure control-freak like me, it's a tough job.

Good night.