A TV viewing companion who constantly says that some actress or other “looks like” another actress, or like some politician or member of the royal family, or somebody, would soon become tiresome. Such resemblances in overall “look” are commonplace, and have been exploited for many years by “Private Eye”, illustrated by pairs of faces with the names mischievously transposed. When apparent similarities transcend factors such as age, gender, ethnicity, historical era or even species they can be startling – as with the well known instance from some years back of Golda Meir and LBJ – but otherwise such subjective observations are pointless. Mayor Boris and swimmer Becky. Yes, but so what ?
A related phenomenon attaches to places. Apart from obvious similarities concerning architectural style, predominant function, and so on, we may remark on the way that Wisbech “looks like” Leiden, that the Sarphati Park area of Amsterdam enjoys an ambience somewhat like that of parts of the Upper West Side, that the relationship of Oakland to San Francisco is as Brooklyn to Manhattan, Gateshead to Newcastle, and Birkenhead to Liverpool; one might detect similarities in villagey feel between Belsize Park in north London and the Butte aux Cailles district in the 13th arrondissement of Paris. But to insist upon them would be absurd, an easy technique for name-dropping, and as with our TV viewer – rapidly annoying. Topographical similarities are only interesting when improbable and unobvious, for example when they straddle national frontiers, architectural periods, or primary roles.
The other afternoon, therefore, I was intrigued to find myself - on the bleak hillside that is the site of the Crystal Palace - reminded irresistibly of the vestigial ruins of the frontage of Berlin’s Anhalter Bahnhof. It was something to do with yellowy brickwork and a repeated arch motif. Maybe my cogitations were influenced also by thoughts of fiery destruction from two thirds of a century or so ago, the collapse of once great (or infamous) empires, and a reflection on the unsatisfactory and shallow state of the world today. However, for all the rationalisations, it was an arbitrary and random association – I didn’t, for instance, note the rather more obvious similarity between the Crystal Palace TV transmitter and the analogous structure named for Monsieur Eiffel.
The specifics of such ruminations are unimportant, subjective and perhaps tedious. But what may be more valuable to note is that musings of this sort indicate that one is observing and thinking about one’s surroundings, that one’s imagination and memory are alert. Alas, so many people, gloomily thumbing their e-gadgets as they stumble along, are not alive to the here and now. Mentally they are somewhere else, and it isn’t Berlin. Not usually, anyway. Therefore it is with pleasure that I dedicate this blog posting to the father and his young son, on the southbound platform at Brockley station on Saturday afternoon, who were both so excited at watching the passing trains, and who unknowingly made my day. “Look, there’s another one coming”, said dad. Then the little boy would point at one coming from the opposite direction, thrilled to bits. That child was being taught to see, and to enjoy what he saw, an ability that will stay with him, and enhance him, for life.
4 March 2013
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