The (Literal and Figurative) Weight of History

I’ve just returned from a vacation in Greece. This was the trip of a lifetime, something I didn’t expect to ever happen, but I’m thrilled to have had the opportunity. I experienced so many wonderful things and had great times. I love Greek food, the beautiful country, the colorful souvenirs, and the lively culture.

The Parthenon

Undoubtedly the highlight of the trip, though, was the tour of the Acropolis, followed closely by the visit to Delphi. I’m not a historian, a classicist, or an archaeologist, but all of those fields interest me. My reaction to those places mirrors the way I felt on first viewing Stonehenge and the Colosseum in Rome. Those sites have little in common other than being old and huge building feats for people without access to the power equipment available today.

I’ve heard people say about sites like Stonehenge and Delphi that they’re nothing but a bunch of old stones, sitting in place and doing nothing. Or a group of nice columns from a ruined building. I simply don’t understand that point of view.

What remains of the temple of Apollo at Delphi

I can’t help but see more than stones and mortar when I look at structures like the Parthenon. I see enormous amounts of work from peoples of a past time. I see remarkable ingenuity to manipulate huge objects with unpowered tools. I see amazing feats of mathematics and engineering that’s just as impressive today as it was then. I see an appreciation for symmetry, grace, and beauty that’s built into the human spirit. I swear I sometimes hear echoes of the groans of workers, the yells of the overseers, the crash of blocks as they’re moved into place, discussions of the designers.

I try to feel the depth of the impact these structures must have had on the people who built them. Huge undertakings like monumental buildings require a culture’s commitment and investment so they must have been of incalculable importance to them. We may not always understand why these days, but we can still gape at what has been achieved and marvel at what it took to create them.

Perhaps it’s part of being a writer that when I look at buildings like the Parthenon, my imagination tries to bring them to life, to picture in my head the building process, the culture that spawned the expressed need, and the meaning they brought into the lives of the people of the time.

I prefer to think it’s being human, being much the same as those who actually created these structures. I wonder if any of them could have guessed we’d still be marveling at them thousands of years later?

PS: If anyone is interested in reading a more extensive write-up of my travels, I've been posting a day by day recap (with pictures) on my blog at http://kmccullough.com/kblog/