Under the Chunnel

My latest translation job is currently translating an array of biographies for Northern and Southern Netherlandish painters such as Peter Paul Rubens, Sir Anthony van Dyck, Jacob Jordeans, and François Duquensoy, who despite being Flemish, was most active in Rome and was even called the greatest sculptor in Rome after Bernini. That distinction is quite impressive, along the lines of the French Surrealist poets naming Edgar Allan Poe as “one of them.” One of the recurring themes is that these were very international men, highly competent in a number of languages, something that is still very much a regional pride amongst the Flemish.

But, what is most striking is the concept of travel as opposed to today. Though many of them did “travel” to Rome, Venice or even, in the case of Sir (because he was knighted by King Charles I) Anthony van Dyck, London, it was a completely different experience. One of the things I love about living in Antwerp is that it is so accessible to all of these places. In three hours, on the train, I went from Berchem Station to St. Pancras, London, via Brussels. That doesn’t make most people here blink nowadays. I could have flown from Duerne to London in a fraction of the time, much less Brussels. But, with the Chunnel train route, it is incredibly easy and rather inexpensive, and three hours!!

However, translating these pieces I read about their travels and it could not be a more different world. When they would take a trip to Rome or whatnot, it would be for YEARS, not a couple of days. And, how they would get there would be through a series of city trips and stops, usually taking MONTHS to get there, not hours. Van Dyck ultimately did immigrate to England, where he died at his home in Blackfriars and having become the court painter of the King of England.

Another aspect of travel that is so different is the concept of the hotel these days. Now, because it is such a short trip for us in the modern world, and because of prohibitive costs and such, a hotel is a place you sleep, shower (if you are lucky to have good water pressure in Europe), go to the bathroom (if you are lucky enough to figure out how to flush an English toilet, kind of like jump-starting a Model T-Ford, you are risking your arm), and then you leave. Housekeeping comes a-knocking at 8:30 because you should already be out! You should be on the streets of Cambridge (which is where I am currently) and not in your hotel room, frittering away the hours in the English way (that was for the Pink Floyd fans…).

No, the modern world is to come over quickly, check in, walk the streets, take the photos, buy the postcard and coffee mug that says “Cambridge University” on it, and go home. In a weekend.

Antwerp at the time of Rubens, and largely BECAUSE of Rubens as I am learning more and more, was THE city. Sixteenth-century and Seventeenth-century Antwerp was a destination, and many of these painters and sculptors, if they were not born in Antwerp, came to it, and usually died there. Brussels, though close, was a major trip, and only a few went from Antwerp to Brussels, whereas today, a larger majority of people from Antwerp commute to Brussels, due to its seat as the capital of the EU. However, Antwerp is again becoming such a destination, despite its highly provincial politics.

But, every time I travel under the Chunnel, I am amazed at the ease, and it is such a jolt to hear English again all around me. I usually stutter for the first few times I speak here because I am always not sure if people will “understand” me. I am always surprised when they then answer me in English, not because of being smug to show that they know English, but because it is their mother tongue. This is not the first time I have written about this, and it won’t be the last, because it is something that jars my consciousness, and I feel the need to write about it. It is fresher on my mind because of what I am actually working on.

Although the streets of Cambridge are brimming with tourists, (something I just heard two locals complaining about at the table next to me, in fact), none of them, via London (only 45 minutes away), would take more than 36 hours to get anywhere in the world to get home if they needed to. This is not to say one is better than the other, but indeed, it is a different world. Likewise, I have met people from all around the world in Antwerp over the past few years, and we still have our differences, sometimes that are endearing, at other times hindering for getting to know people, but the awareness of the world is rather more mundane than the eccentric nature it seems to have had when travel was only for a select few. For better or for worse, I cannot say, but it does give me pause each time.