Edith Kurzweil
THE CASTLE
If there is such a thing as a postmodernist revolution, it happened
in Prague where, as President Vaclav Havel might say, the absurd became
meaningful and the meaningful absurd. Guided by theater people, the contin–
uation of the Prague Spring was bound to turn into an ongoing theatrical
performance that aims to push the original miracle to its utmost, to convert
the exploited Czech population to democracy, and to privatize its economy.
I went to Prague to find out how postmodernist theater translates itself
into practical politics, how actors, directors and playwrights manage a country
the Communists made unmanageable. "President Havel likes performance,"
said Peter Oslzly, playwright and dramaturgist of the experimental "theater
on a string" and a member of the Advisory Board of the President. The
performance, however, I soon realized, is reflective and serious: it's a theater
of reality set in a surreal city full of mysteries and relics of its past. Every
actor knows that even the slightest move is bound to have immense
repercussions on all Czechs - who are expected to join as participating audi–
ence.
We know, of course, that this is the condition of
all
democracies and we
have read about the similarities and differences of the many problems facing
everyone of the countries that recently threw off its former yoke. But be–
fore I spoke to three people who work in The Castle, the erstwhile residence
of Czech kings, Hapsburg emperors, and subsequently of the leaders of the
Czechoslovak Republic, the Nazis, the postwar Republic, and then the Com–
munists, I had not realized that the Czechs alone expect to superimpose cul–
tural imperatives on economic ones, rather than have the economy deter–
mine the future of their culture.
Although Eda Kriseova, writer and official Literary Advisor to the
President, had spoken of the decay of this formerly rich country when she
was in New York, her words became reality only after my train crossed the
Austrian border: it slowed to a crawl in order not to derail on the defective
roadbed. The disrepair of houses, the antiquated farm equipment, and the
general poverty were blatantly observable. However, when Arita Huck–
ova, Kriseova's assistant, met me at Prague's Central Station I forgot the
drabness. She showed me around and even managed to get me the room of
a "no-show" at the Intercontinental Hotel- on the banks of the Vltava and
with a fabulous view of the Castle. (With few exceptions, Prague hotels are
as dismal as the roadbeds.) And she arranged an interview with Milan Uhde,
the brand new Minister ofCulture, for that evening.
"My ministry covers the realms of literature, theater, art, sculpture,
