The story continues, by the very same Catinca Manaila

Chapter 4: The journal of a hard to please girl by Jeni Acterian 

Continuing the navigation through endless materials about the 'once upon a time in Bucharest' theme, in this chapter I want to illustrate some of what I was rambling about before. The source I picked for this is a personal journal of a society lady spanning the interwar period. But it is so much more than that! It covers themes of love and life in a big city, dealing with a father that would not allow her to see three films at the cinema in one day (Shocking!) and discussing books that were popular and about which she wrote with all the candour of a teenager with strong opinions (don’t we all know about that :) ).

I came across her book as I was perusing the shelves of ‘The most beautiful bookshop in Europe’, Carturesti Carusel, in the historic centre of Bucharest, in itself a marvellous example of heritage reuse (but a story for another time).

A hefty volume of almost 1000 pages, Jeni Acterian's journal was a dream come true for the budding romantic researcher in me. She lived between 1917 and 1958 and was of Armenian origin (already an interesting detail). She made a name for herself on the theatre scene of the age, and was friend with  Mircea Eliade, Eugen Ionescu and Emil Cioran, the biggest names in Romanian intellectual circles of the 20th century. 

Chapter 5: Do we read a journal to get a glimpse of the behind the scenes of history or of a personal conscience?

As a historical source, we can look at a journal form multiple viewpoints. First of all, the very fact that keeping a journal was a thing to do back then was significant of many things. The social constraints of the time may have prevented her from publicly voicing her concerns, while the topics approached tell us about the intellectual inclinations of young women in the 1930’s. As a part of a middle class fairly wealthy family, Jeni was concerned with philosophy and literature, theatre and art and found the formal education she was enrolled in constraining, although she excelled at mathematics. She wrote in Romanian, English, French and German and often invented words for feelings she would experience but could not name. She wrote: 

"I wish to read and to write. Only to read and to write. I would renounce any diploma. A waste of time these diplomas. Until now, despite all difficulties, I was attached to my diplomas. Now, I do not want them anymore. I say this without any lack of discipline you would expect from a 16 year old. I want to show them that without schooling, learning by myself, I can pass all exams!" 

So we can already notice that at 16, the life of a young woman was significantly different than from today. 

Second of all, the content is of documentary value as a personal history. It is a vivid testimony of the objects people were surrounded with, what type of house and furnishings were used by different social categories and what the dictates of social interactions were. 

Thirdly, it gives us information about urban society at large. The fact that her friends were intellectuals, writers and journalists from many different schools of thought, which were educated in Western Europe, most in Paris, Berlin or Vienna, shows that at least the ‘high’ society was very intellectually diverse, and the very existence of poetry groups and discussion salons is insightful for imagining Bucharest. 

Coincidentally, the very day I bought the book I went on a guided tour of one of Bucharest most prominent neighbourhoods, Dorobanti, where this woman lived. The guide started with a story of the architectural style of the surrounding areas, then proceeded to immerse us in a history of some of the significant houses, one of which was the one pictured above, in which Jeni spent most of the years covered in her journal. In this house she hosted salons and literary meetings, she fell in and out of love, and sadly also died in middle age. Throughout all this, the house remains, a testimony to a significant yet ordinary life. It is now an apartment building, with no plaque or commemoration of its history whatsoever. While the situation in this case is such that it would not be applicable to my thesis focus, the point remains that there are many of such historical buildings with a rich past but an uncertain future. In a poor state of conservation, often empty and uncared for, the testimony of the past that their continued existence provides would be lost if not for a strategy of sustainable maintenance. 

Hopefully, through this example, I have illustrated the potential for education and research of such buildings. 

Follow up next month for the amazing, the abstract, the daunting, the great next instalment: 

Chapter 6: Research and Methodology