Monday, May 25, 2015

Some thoughts on Leigh Fermor’s A Time For Gifts

One of the great travel writers of the twentieth century, Patric Leigh Fermor provides an elegant and intoxicating view of Europe during the 1930s. In December 1933, just months after Hitler became chancellor of Germany, the 18-year old Leigh Fermor sets out to walk across Europe from Holland to Istanbul. Forty years later he revisits his journals, the treasured mementos of any traveler, and begins to construct a planned three-volume remembrance of that fateful journey. A Time for Gifts is the first of those three volumes and it takes us to a world lost because of time, war and practice. Each time I picked up the book, a respite in my busy schedule, I found that a smile crept across my face.
Rather than an interesting time-capsule approach to the subject, Leigh Fermor relies on his journals and memories, he contextualizes what he thought, saw and experienced. The book does so without the heavy foreshadowing one might expect. Obviously, the reader knows what is coming. Yet, there are no overburdening allusions to the tragedies or events that are about to come;  we know that bad things are going to happen to some of the people he encounters and we are free to speculate without the author telling us what happened. 
In an introductory letter to his friend Xan Fielding, Leigh Fermor sets the context for his journey. He notes, writing decades later, that the impulses and desires of youth works to keep us unfocused and in trouble. Leigh Fermor gives perspectives and can better explain some of his actions. His tendency to engage in social activities, his attention to connections with women, and the temptation of constant parties, all conspire to allow his talents to go to waste. He decides to take a radical step, to break out of a life set to be wasted.
One of the primary interests of the author in A Time for Gifts is an earlier history of Europe that most of us are aware of today. While not specifically mentioned, the gathering clouds of the First World War casts long shadows over the book. Leigh Fermor concentrates on the bloodletting that surrounded the Thirty Years’ War, but conveniently neglects the more recent devastation that was World War I. Perhaps it is all too fresh and raw. The continent convulsed during the war and the monuments, even a hundred years later, are ubiquitous; every small town has a monument or cairn commemorating those who fell during the Great War. Since the journey takes place in the interwar years, his trip, the countries he visits and the politics of the time are all shaped by the aftermath of the First World War and the impending gloom of the coming Second World War.
Nevertheless, from the perspective of the reader, there is a sense of uneasiness and concern about the fate of the people the author meets on his journey. Toward the end of one chapter I had a sense of foreboding about Baron Pips that he did not survive the war (as he was Jewish). But by the final paragraph of the chapter, we are relieved to find that Pips survives and thrives. The book does an excellent job of building tension and creating empathy for the people he meets. But the story does highlight what is lost: six million Jews, as well as several million others, die. Sure, Baron Pips is unique, but who is not?
At one point the young Briton is confronted, chastise and ridiculed by a supporter of Hitler in a beer hall; however, many other people come to his defense. It is an example of how fanatic supporters often hold individuals accountable for the actions of their group or government. It is also an example of how some people internalize the messages of their leaders or governments, while others overcome their cognitive dissonance to come to his aid. Leigh Fermor finds a tremendous amount of kindness throughout his trip. In another example, in Heidelberg, after he is taken in by an elderly couple during the middle of a snowstorm. He quite rightly asks if a German traveler would be treated the same in England. It is a question that haunts many of the students who travel to Europe with me.
The simple gift of a five-year old daughter of a German innkeeper in Bingen early on Christmas morning was very touching. I was sympathetic to his inability to think of a gift with which to reciprocate. Leigh Fermor’s description of beautiful faces of the innkeeper’s daughters, aged 5 to 15, led me to immediately consider what will happen to these young girls ten years down the road. Germany will is be pummeled by Allied planes; deprivation and devastation will be widespread. I am sure it was on Leigh Fermor’s mind as he edited his notes years later. What happened to that sweet five-year old, who would have been about seventeen, when the war ended? Her sweet and kind gesture was unlikely saved her from the deprivations suffered a dozen years later. 
Other encounters offer interesting travel insights and observations. Leigh Fermor ruminates on the importance of eggs. There one point in which he describes the delight in carefully removing the egg from the shell with a spoon and having it with buttered bread. Another incident has him riding in the back of a lorry with a fifteen-year old girl who gives him a birthday gift of a dozen eggs. For those of us who are drawn to travel by foot, Leigh Fermor offers quotable passages to explain our passion to others. When he is tempted to take a ride to go further down the Danube, he reminds himself that “all horsepower corrupts.” I have often noted that to walk provides an opportunity to observe. Walking at three miles an hour, as opposed to traveling by auto at sixty-plus or by train at 120-mph, allows for a study rather than a glance. If you see something of interest, walking affords the chance to study rather than a fleeting glimpse. Leigh Fermor concurs noting that while walking it is impossible to be out of touch.
A Time for Gifts is a difficult book to describe, yet at the end of the day it is a book about the joys of travel, walking and meeting people. I smiled knowingly when Leigh Fermor writes that he would wander the city and kept repeating to himself, “I’m in Vienna.” There are so many times when I have found myself in exotic or remote locations and have had to remind myself to take time to remember where I am – to enjoy the experience or to embrace my travel achievement. Leigh Fermor offers sage advice and valuable insight. He is a polymath who is both steeped in literature and enjoys a Laurel and Hardy film at the same time. For those of us who are interested in travel, history and thinking, A Time for Gifts is essential reading.

Patric Leigh Fermor, A Time for Gifts: On Foot to Constantinople: From the Hook of Holland to the Middle Danube (New York Review Books, 2005; originally published, London: J. Murray, 1977).


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