Jung in Mannheim
There are many things to see in Mannheim, and many ghosts to chase. There is a sometimes terminal case of hipness that comes through at certain times of year, where everyone moves like a ghost. It’s also one of the great moments in the city, and really, any month is terribly interesting. Summers are always the season when the city takes a collective breath, but Fall can be broody enough to warrant staying a few extra nights in the hotel in Mannheim . An extra day should be allowed, always, to try to chase any loose threads of a journey, although the ends are impossible to find.
It can at times be like an archetype of itself, the perfect postmodern place to chase all kinds of techno-electro dreams. Cafe life is of the moment, but it’s also frozen in time, and often feels like walking into the past. Perhaps, on a particularly good afternoon when the wind is just right, one can catch a glimpse of Carl Jung’s grandfather and namesake.
The stories go that he was the lovechild of Goethe, and more than 200 years later, it doesn’t matter all that much. Anyone who’s been pulled into the mystery of Goethe’s plays understands that there are things that happen out of time, and sometimes a daydream is just as true as anything else. He was also a surgeon in Mannheim, and a member of the Freemasons, and so colorful a character that the grandson would see himself reflected, and find roots of a mystic hero here.
It would be nice to have one of those great legendary dinners with famous people and have the grandfather and Jung himself there to tell stories. Nothing would be cleared up by the end of the evening, just more loose threads, and conversations with people who were so good at inventing themselves as they went along.