The legacy bestowed upon us
I recently watched a virtual tour of the “Viking” exhibition hosted in the British Museum. The Vikings represent an enthralling chapter in European and global history, though we frequently tend to limit their influence on the Nordic countries and their surroundings. In fact, during the two centuries (9th and 10th) of their expansion, they roamed the world, from the eastern coasts of modern Canada to Baghdad, looting, raiding and, above all, trading, settling down, and assimilating with the local populations. They are often portrayed as brutal and uncivilised – a partially accurate description when compared to the highly sophisticated structures of Byzantine societies. Nevertheless, and although they never formed an empire, their passage left indelible marks that last to our days, from the names of countries, towns, or the days of the week in the English language, to art, trading centres, new-found lands, and their famous longship. After all, the Vikings were stunning navigators, with excellent carpentry and engineering skills, and their ingenuity deserves more credit than what it often receives.
The tour included many interesting details on the Norse culture; still, I was mostly impressed by a remark at the end of the documentary that seemed to have broader implications. One of the presenters commented that all creations aside, the Vikings also caused much destruction, which cannot be overlooked. To this, the curator replied that in an exhibition, one cannot show what has been destroyed; instead, one can focus mainly on what was created and endured the test of time.
The comment may seem trivial, and yet, I found it fascinating. Suddenly, it dawned upon me that our destructive nature, appalling and formidable as it might be, is preserved only in our stories and short-term memory. As centuries pass by and the stories we tell either fade away or evolve, the tangible remnants that survive – those expressions that we tend to collect – recount only the story of our creativity.
As a species, we have not managed yet to tame our barbarian side; still, by necessity or design, we rarely create memorials that speak of what we destroyed. Instead, we use our architectural ingenuity to construct grand, often opulent homes for the surviving samples of our creativity that, over time, have acquired additional meaning for us. Ultimately, visiting a museum is not merely an educational or aesthetic experience. With our presence, we subconsciously pay homage to the auspicious and benevolent side of our species, perpetually directing our attention to the magnificence inherent in our genes. Indeed, despite our fragile nature, we are capable of great things.
