Tony Judt: An Elder Brother in Thinking

Summary

Washington Square, October 13, 2010

Straight from JFK Airport, I head for Tony Judt's New York “village” whose center is Washington Square. The plane from Warsaw was late, and so I would not manage to be in time for lunch with the circle of friends of “Remarqueistan,” as we jokingly referred to the little république des lettres founded by Tony Judt. I would meet Teresa Fernandez from New Mexico, Constanza Stelzenmueller from Berlin, and Eyal Press from New York only in the evening. About 4 p.m., then, I am in the Square and I have one hour only for myself. I sit on a bench near a jazz band whose leader walks in circles, one hand on his trumpet, one on the hat collecting the money. I throw in some dollars; the music is excellent, just as it should be in Washington Square. A black garbage collector, a tall guy wearing a hat, dances to the bebop rhythm waving his brush and plastic bag, scaring the squirrels in the sun-warmed alley. A bit further, toward Tony's house, sits some epigone of the beat generation, for whom the only thing that seems to survive from the crazy excesses of the 1950s and 1960s are pigeons. He takes out some crumbs from the pocket of his jean jacket and the birds perch all over his head and shoulders, giving the scene just a bit of madness. Behind us stands the Triumphal Arch, newly renovated and looking too white and odd, from whose top, in 1917, Duchamp proclaimed the foundation of the “Free and Independent Republic of Greenwich Village.”

A gift of a day, full of light and joy. Just like the one that spring when last I visited Tony in his apartment. It was the first day after the lengthy sorrow of winter. People headed toward the Square from all directions; they came carrying drums on their heads, violins under their arms, guitars on their backs, some with mic stands and folding chairs. Around the fountain half-naked hip-hop dancers performed their acrobatics, others recited poetry at an open mic, another group sang Joan Baez, a group of jazz musicians were looking for a place to play so as not to drown out the musicians playing Vivaldi.