Chatting with Mnemosyne The “Memoirs” of the worthy of remembrance Bartolomeu Anania remain even today, almost a dec- ade after their publication, an opportunity and a privilege to have their author close, author which, in the meantime, moved into eternal life. No other writing of his vigorous work has the professing strength of the times that this giant personality has gone through. For those who didn’t know him, Anania’s writings can arouse the curiosity of the encounter with a character from a novel, rebel- lious, adventurous and free, kind of a local Papillon, but feeding not on bank robberies, but on the gathering of acquaintances around ideals that today seem to be rather extinct. For those who knew him, like the author of these lines, they are “only” a lesson of longing. For the one who was my mod- el that I couldn’t follow, for he one who has given me strength day by day, through his very breath, even when our ideas were not a perfect fit. Bartolomeu Anania longed for freedom. And learned that this freedom, in the true sense of the word, only God can give you. Today, when Christianity seems to be moving again toward the catacombs, the “Memoirs” of Metropolitan Bartolomeu make you melancholy. But I’m certain that someday, someone or perhaps another generation, will find, in the depths of their being, the possibility of rebirth. For now, our comfort comes from the goddess of memory and the longing for a father and a friend that we loved immensely. RĂZVAN IONESCU |
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