On Decay

Our visit to ancient Byzantium and Greece provided us with a view of many antiquities in various stages of decay, and I’ve already noted the controversy associated with their reconstruction or renovation. None of these structures has escaped unscathed from centuries of weather, including earthquakes, sun and rain, coupled with destructive human actions such as war and fire. Some of these ruins, Hagia Sophia is an example, are still magnificent. Some are merely a collection of rocks which our imaginations must reshape into stately columns. Why did I want to see them anyway? Do they provide me with some sense of holiness missing from the relics of everyday life which surround me? Do they provide some connection with an ancient past that still lingers in my DNA?

The reconstructions of Sir Arthur Evans at Knossos are much decried by archeologists, and much appreciated by tourists. The government of Greece is in the process of restoring and renewing some of the great monuments of the Acropolis. Maybe the reconstructions are untrue to the originals, but somehow the prospect of rebuilding and renewing adds a sense of continuance and hope to the past, a sense that life has a chance to learn and continue a journey midst the decay while honoring what went before.

I’ve had my own encounter with decay since my return. One of my teeth has finally decayed past saving and I will have it pulled this afternoon. As it turns out, the tooth is dead, but everything in the mouth around it has been inflamed and very painful…sympathy pains the dentist said. I’ve spent most of the past few days in bed. After it is pulled, I will have the choice of whether to reconstruct it or not. I think not. Some ruins are not worth reconstructing. Dealing with the decay of one’s own body is not fun. What’s worse is dealing with the decay of the mind. I entitled this blog Age and Antiquity for a reason. My own aging provides sympathy pains for the antiquities, or maybe vice versa.