Lubomír Martínek

"At the time when I was there, I think there was quite an interesting constellation of Czech intellectuals. There were three viewpoints as if - one was represented by Tigrid and his (magazine) Testimony (Svědectví), that was a political matter, the second viewpoint was represented by Antonín Liehm, who edited the Lettre Internationale, a very good magazine, I did translations for him for the One Hundred and Fifty Thousand Words, so that was partly my living. Of course the closest viewpoint to me was the third one - Jiří Kolář. Each of these viewpoints had a loose community of people around them, and they all knew each other of course. Those who were more interested in art would gravitate towards Kolář more than Tigrid. Those who were more politically oriented would keep to the Testimony."

"This one enormously fat German from the neighbouring coupé would come out to smoke, and so would this girl from another coupé. When we'd been to smoke like this several times, me and the girl started making fun of the fatty. One word led to the next, or, one broken English word led to the next broken English word, and we sat down together in the coupé and the girl turned out to be a Frenchwoman, and she asked me where I was headed. I said: 'To Paris.' Of course I didn't tell her I was emigrating, I wouldn't knock myself down now. So I asked her if she knew of any cheap hotels, what they were like, what are the options. She gave me some addresses. We arrived at Gare de l'Est, she said: 'Wait, wait, I've got an idea. Sit down here, have a coffee, I'll be back in a moment.' So I bought a coffee, annoyed, as it cost three franks, that was about a twentieth of my finances. She came back in a moment and said: 'It's okay, it's sorted, come on!' So I followed her like a sheep, she introduced me to her brother. He said: 'Okay, good, so I heard, we're leaving for our holiday, here are the keys to the flat, go live there!' So after three hours in Paris I had a lovely one-room flat for myself for two weeks. I thought: 'These Frenchmen are a pretty decent sort, but this can't be possible, it must be a mistake, it can't work like this.' I was sitting on the bed, just staring in front of me, wondering what would be next, that it can't be possible, these things simply mustn't be true, that would mean one might end up an optimist. Of course, a moment later the bell rang, the brother was standing outside: 'I get it,' I said already reaching for my bag to leave. He said: 'I was thinking, it's ridiculous, it'll be New Year's Eve now, and you'll be here alone, you'd be bored - you'll come with us to Fontainebleau!' So two hours later we arrived by jeep to a villa in Fontainebleau, which was full of the golden youth."

"There's this strange idea as if an emigrant - either they simply fault him for trying for something better - I have to say, after my experiences from the 90s and in the 2000s, I don't know who has the right to fault emigrants for that. I mean, does anyone here ever do anything else than to try for something better? This argument doesn't seem very relevant to me. When they fault emigrants for not being better, then I don't see why they should be better. Emigration is just as broad a phenomenon, just as broad a group as any other group - it has its rotters, its thieves, its frauds, its careerist, its amazing people, its adventurers, its businessmen, its various generations... Why should emigrants be any better than the population they arose from?"

"It's a devilish Czech matter that it's a huge difference if in such key historical moments like in '48, '68, you're fourteen, or seventeen, or twenty years old. Suddenly, the differences between generations means nothing, and I was hit by this stupidity at the age of fourteen, which was quite dumb, because that's the kind of most aggravated, slightly historical period. Nothing much was going on yet in '68, a year later I was taking part in the intifada here behind the National Museum, throwing stones and such tomfoolery. Nonetheless there were some very unpleasant changes going on - switching from primary to secondary school, the changing of professors, changing of neighbours, and those idiots who swore that they'll never bend to anyone, and 'Boys, fight and resist! I won't shave until the Russians leave!' and a year later the same ones were pressuring me into the SSM (Union of Socialist Youth). This pressure, the beginning was quite icky. Nonetheless with hindsight I am quite glad of this lesson, because I feel that I gained a great head start in front of the others, that I realised very quickly, when about seventeen, eighteen, I had a rough but clear idea of the given balance of character in society. It took me a bit longer to find out that this is a constant, that you can't really do anything about it, that the number of shitpants and bastards are always about the same, and then later on in my life, getting along in this world, I saw that in the various contexts it was very similar everywhere."