The Weekly LitWit Challenge 2.7: Time travel edition
This week we’re giving away a pair of thrillers: Zugzwang by Ronan Bennett—murder, intrigue, psychoanalysis and romance in St. Petersburg in 1914, and The Foreign Correspondent by Alan Furst—war, espionage, resistance and romance in Paris in 1938.
You know how everyone complains that they were born in the wrong era in the wrong country, that if only they’d been a feudal lord in Japan during the Ashikaga Shogunate or jumping into the fountain at the Plaza with Scott and Zelda in 1924, they would’ve been happy? Alright, let’s assume that some great displacement has occurred, and you have been torn away from your proper time and place. When and where do you belong, and what would you be doing?
Self-delusion is most welcome. Post your answers in Comments by 11.59pm on Saturday, 17 April 2010.
The Weekly LitWit Challenge is brought to you by our friends at National Bookstore.
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April 13th, 2010 at 01:36
I would be replacing Marko Alexandrovich Ramius and live a claustrophobic life in Red October. I would be defecting from Soviets still. I like the thought of self mutilation and morbidness. Maybe that or the early 17th century in the Tokugawa Era so I could start Samurai wars again so people holding blades would not lose power, I would like to start slashing people.
April 13th, 2010 at 01:53
I would’ve been in Siberia, around the time of the Chernobyl Accident in 1986.
I would’ve been absorbing all the gamma and beta radiation that would make me an awesome tennis player.
From there, my parents would bring me to Moscow where I would be given a tennis racquet for my 4th birthday. The trainers and coaches would be amazed at my skills and wonder how I became so good at tennis.
And the rest would be freaking history as I win Grand Slams and Olympic golds in tennis. But then later I will be diagnosed with breast cancer. Boo.
April 13th, 2010 at 02:39
Essentially, traveling back in time is a man’s fantasy and no sane woman would dream of it. I’m pretty happy now, when we have the Japanese fine-nibbed fountain pens, comparatively female-friendly laws, house-trained men, less-padded and layered clothing, washing machines, flushable porcelain toilets and indoor plumbing, and Macbooks with the unibody, the more stable OS, and better value for money.
That said, I’m torn between 1510 in Mantua holding the fort, pulling strings, making beso-beso and bola-bola with Cesare Borgia and being painted by Leonardo, and 1830 in Paris hanging out with writers and musicians, writing and drawing in notebooks that were actually used by Van Gogh and co., not doing chores for men, and wearing men’s clothing. :)
April 13th, 2010 at 08:27
1943 – I am a quiet, if a bit bumbling, country doctor in Alsace, France with a normal, if not successful, private practice.
All that, however, is just a front for nighttime activities as a member of the Maquis. I have been personally responsible for the high-profile assassinations of Vichy members and German collaborators and even participated in killing visiting German officers.
With my knowledge of human anatomy and physiology, I am able to prolong the agony of those I kill and present their corpses in ways that strike those who view it with a very visceral fear.
April 13th, 2010 at 11:03
I’d time travel to Mactan, Cebu right after Lapu-lapu killed Magellan. I’d interview the chieftain on his views about the foreign invaders and his plans about driving them out.
And then I’d ask some pointers about Escrima and Kali. He may have no idea what these are, but I’ll explain to him that these martial arts helped him in his victory against the Spaniards, and that I’m from the future and that he’d better believe me.
And then, Lapu-lapu and his entire barangay will treat me like a king of some other barangay, because I was the only one who bothered to ask their opinion about the battle that killed the world-famous navigator, changing the course of history forever.
April 13th, 2010 at 15:57
France in the Belle Epoque. I’d make a smashing courtesan. Fronting as a beard to various dukes and assorted marquis-or-other, parading down the Champs in a giant hat with egret feathers (while carrying red flowers to signal to them that I’m, ahem, flying the red flag as well), and getting ropes and ropes of pearls and giant diamonds in the process? Sign me up!
Plus I’d really love to be frenemies with Nathalie Barney, Caroline Otero, Liane de Pougy and Colette.
April 13th, 2010 at 16:46
I’d be a Jew in Europe during Hitler’s time. I’d be slaved in Auschwitz while secretly plotting a cunning plan to escape and kill Hitler.
And then sometime in 1943, I would successfully escape the extermination camp and I’d build an underground army and eventually, in 1945, my army would successfully assasinate Hitler, save the remaining Jews, and put an end to Nazism. I’d be written in history books as the “Greatest Hero Of The Holocaust.” And while accepting my Nobel Peace Prize award, a remaining Nazi-supporter would shoot me in the head, and I’d be drop dead on the stage, blood flowing from my head. Jews all over the world would grieve. There would be books written about me, and films that show my life and struggle and heroism. I’m cool like that.
April 13th, 2010 at 18:18
I want to go back to March 12, 1986 with only $21 + some change in my pocket for food and some other expenses. It has nothing to do with wanting to see the events after the People Power Revolution. I want to be transported to New York City, near the office of any stock broker that would accept stock trading via fund pooling scheme.
I want to be at the door of that stock broker. I want him to buy for me just 1 share of a certain stock. It may be difficult to get but all I ask is that he buy for me 1 share and that’s it.
After he gives to me my share certificate after close of trading day the next day then I can return to the present clinging only that piece of paper. I don’t want anything else. I don’t want to know the lotto number of the day before. I don’t want to know who won what and when in any sports category.
Just four letters – MSFT . If bought in 1986, this stock would have surged past 70,000% at its peak.
I just want to buy 1 share of Microsoft.
April 13th, 2010 at 21:40
I have always wondered what it feels like to live in the late 1800s up to early 1900s. The country had just been freed from foreign oppression and gotten its independence, and I wondered how Filipinos adapted to the new, but big change.
At the same time, I would want to experience what it feels like living in the “younger days” of Manila. Obviously, it wasn’t filthy and human-congested then. I would be living in one of those big houses in Intramuros with my family and a few househelps whom I consider as my extended family. Every morning, I would join them at the market near the Pasig River (which boasts of crystal-clear water) and help them buy the freshest vegetables, fruits, fish and meat for lunch. We would grill the biggest tilapias we could ever dreamed of, cook my favorite sinigang na hipon, then drink fresh buko juice. After lunch, I would either take a very long siesta or attend some classes with my tutor (language, history, crocheting, etc), then have a hearty candlelit dinner. Afterwards, my family and I would either enjoy playing any of those early board games or read books and newspapers.
I would also try washing clothes by the river, iron clothes with the aid of hot coals, enjoy swimming at the Pasig River, visit the Luneta Hotel (if it’s already erected by that time), go dancing with my female friends (if it’s possible) and dine out at restaurants like the Manila Hotel.
These I would want to experience in order to know if the word “simple life” back in the early days is an understatement or an overstatement.
April 13th, 2010 at 22:10
I’d like to be in what was the Olympic Stadium back in October 18, 1925 in Manila. This was the day of the epic Balagtasan between the masters of this lost art – Jose Corazon de Jesus and Florentino Collantes.
General Aguinaldo and around 15,000 spectators came to watch great war of words between the two masters in a Balagtasan entitled “Ang Dalagang Filipina: Noon at Ngayon”. The crowds were jeering and both masters had barangays of fans rivaling those of John Lloyd and Papa Piolo – some even met in a brawl during an earlier balagtasan skirmish between de Jesus and Collantes. The daily papers were filled with letters from fans giving praises to their chosen “manok”. All these fuzz just to hear the impassioned debate with rhythm and rhyme!
What would I give to watch this spectacle!
April 13th, 2010 at 23:43
I’ll be in Jerusalem during the 1st century,with the disciples and followers of Jesus after he “left”. I’ll tell them that diseases, plagues, leprosy, dementia, blindness, etc. aren’t caused by “evil spirits” but by unseen organisms, by hereditary factors or by the environment. I’ll ask them why Jesus failed to return “during this generation” of first century Hebrews,as he promised, to set up the “kingdom of god”; I’ll ask Mary how come she and her husband still didn’t “understand” the words of 12-year old Jesus in the temple,in spite of the fact that an “archangel” visited her to tell her that she will bear “God’s own son”?; I’ll stand on a roofdeck to validate (or refute) the “star of Bethlehem”,which supposedly “guided” the wise men from the east to Jesus’ birthplace (can stars move or stop over a particular place?)and see for myself the “massacre of the innocents”,which could have numbered into thousands if it was true;I’ll talk to St.Paul and try to put some sense into his hysterical,masochistic yet egotistical writings. I will ask Matthew:if boss Jesus really wanted to save as many souls as he can,why did he come during this time (before 1st century),when the global population was possibly below five million people? And why,of all places, Israel, with less than a million population?Why not come to earth, say,1500 to 2000 years later (during our time)and come up with a “bumper harvest of souls”? To Mark I will ask: please tell your fellow gospel writers to write in such a way that the messages and words of Jesus would not be mis-interpreted or misunderstood in whatever way in the next hundreds of years. Oh,and since I am there,I’ll tell them that the earth is a big round ball floating in space,and not flat like a table,with “pillars” below and “firmaments” above; they need to know that it does not have “ends” and “edges” from which sailors might fall off; I’d go as far as tell them that we live in a tiny planet along with 8 other bigger ones, and that the sun cannot not “stand still” for Joshua because it is already still–it’s the earth that’s rotating. Boy,if they knew all of these then,we probably wouldn’t have a bible now-we’d be reading “Original Science”.
April 14th, 2010 at 12:32
I would be in Manila at the dawn of its civilization. I would chronicle Manila’s history, as it is happening in my time. The beauty and grandeur of the Pasig river as I describe it will be more than any could muster. I would paint a picture so vivid and a story so riveting that anyone, in any era, reading it would have a very clear understanding of how the glorious Manila became the trading capital of the world.
And when her sons read her history, they would not start it with a story about the arrival of Magellan and some findings about life before the Spaniards. They would read a comprehensive story and identify themselves as part of that history, and would no longer need to question their identity and borrowed rituals.
April 14th, 2010 at 13:21
I’d live in the Heian Period in Japan and agonize about how beautiful moonlight looks on snow.
April 14th, 2010 at 20:40
I’d be a confused writer in 90’s Japan. I live in a six-tatami mat room with a bulky laptop, an Underwood, an old Nikon which belonged to my grandfather, and a ginger cat. My neighbors are three sullen children left alone to fend for themselves because their mother ran off to join a rice-god cult. The other neighbors (which include a transvestite cable TV reporter and a chain-smoking artist) and I try to take care of the kids by cooking them meals and stuff. I spend most of the day with the kids lazing in the nearby park and at night, I write about our misadventures in a column widely followed by sappy teachers and housewives.
Sometimes I drop by the second-hand bookstore near our apartment building because the owner is cute and has great English skills. Sometimes we’d talk about Sartre and Existentialism and how the communist Germans are paranoid. But often, I wonder how to tell him that I find his eyes beautiful and how elegant he looks in his scruffy flannel shirt and corduroys. His name will be Tetsuya or something to that effect, and he finds my half-assed black-and-white photographs of the kids and the park enchanting.
April 15th, 2010 at 04:32
I always envision myself as Baptiste, a guy from Paris who’s a loser when it comes to romantic relationships and would always seek counsel of this lady friend who works as a teller at the Tour Eiffel counter. Her name is Margot, and she would give advice like she really meant it, and at one point, would allow me to bring my date to the second level of the Tower, free of charge. Apparently, I will fall in love with her, even though she’s married and is probably having extramarital affairs with the elevator guy. I don’t normally hangout at the Eiffel tower because, you know, Parisians don’t really do that, but because Margot works there, I’m compelled to. Realizing I’m gradually falling for her, Margot will set a blind date and we are to meet at the top of the tower. In the end, my blind date will not show up, and just before I decide to hit the next ride down, I would see Margot sneaking her way to the control room, and behind the door, she’s doing the Maintenance guy. Witnessing that, I would’ve probably lost my sense of hope and would’ve tried to jump off the ledge of the tower
April 15th, 2010 at 12:57
Well I happen to know my answer to this one. I think I would be supremely happy if my life went something like this. Born into a rich family in turn of the century America, I would be sent to a boarding school in Switzerland, where I would be kicked out for having an affair with the school headmaster. I’d make my way to Paris and with my inheritance, rent a luxurious apartment and run a cafe. By then it will be the 1920s, when Paris is filled with the likes of Hemingway and James Joyce and Picasso. My buddy buddies and I would hang out in my cafe, drink bourbon, and listen to jazz and talk about such lovely things as boxing. I’d return to America after a while, and have a short but fulfilling stint as a socialite. After a string of affairs with men such as Porfirio Rubirosa or (and some high-profile cat fights with the likes of Zsa Zsa Gabor and Doris Duke) I would tire of the whole see and be seen scene. With the money culled from all my lovers, I would hie off to Africa, convinced that the deeper meaning of life was to be found when one is close to nature. There I will put up a house in the Serengeti, meet my husband, and together he and I will work for the conservation of lions, cheetahs and what have yous. I may grant an interview for magazines and newspapers, but mostly I will live out the rest of my days in Africa, with my husband and our four lovely children.
April 15th, 2010 at 23:09
i’d make friend with Karl Marx and teach him how to play jackstone.
April 17th, 2010 at 10:24
I want to go back when Hitler was still young and help him pursue his dream of being a theatre actor! Who knows, he might end up as the greatest theatre actor of all time!
I would also want to go to Rizal’s time and bring a PSP with me. I’ll tell him “ito ang kinabukasan ng kabataan!” Then showing him movies of Kim and Gerald!
April 17th, 2010 at 13:32
I would be in fertile Antarctica, where lush trees and iridescent flowers still flourish and the river is a pristine pool of life. The pale moon looks down on the untouched earth as man reaches the pinnacle of evolution. I will be born when buildings have made from stones and fallen trees, when pipes out of bamboo are made, when adults still frolic in vast meadows and when people still managed to keep the tranquil balance of nature and man. Outside of our habitat, the earth is still unoccupied and unanimously feared. The contrasting ideologies have not yet emerged and men and women stand equal in governing the land. I will be one of the subordinates of the minister of arts. I, along with several others, am tasked to write the trice a week plays. Art and literature is held up to the mantle of science. I see technology burgeoning around me. The ministry of science is working to harness the power of the rivers, as it did with the sun. The ministry of health is studying the properties of various herbs and spices. Children go to school in a stately art-deco building in the center of the civilization. The different ministries meet once a week in a majestic palatial hall scented with jasmine and adorned with flowers and leaves. We discuss the recent completion of a number of houses and building made for the farmers and fisherman. I was promoted in rank. I’m now 20th in the ministry of arts. We listen to the wind and the trees and interpret the glass and gems. The earth reveals it’s secrets to us and only us. We know the impending destruction and deterioration of the universe and the few with the capabilities to alleviate it. The ice age comes and brings upon ruination to our civilization, burying us and our secrets forever
April 17th, 2010 at 22:48
I would be a charming and witty bachelor attending the soirée at which Diosdado Macapagal and Evangelina Macaraeg would meet.
I would approach Eva before Diosdado could, woo her, take her home with me, date her for a few years, then marry her.
This way Gloria Arroyo would never be born. Problem solved.
Someone give me a time machine.