One day, the famous French writer, Georges Bernanos, in his book France against robots (1946) talked about modernity with these words:

‘We understand absolutely nothing of modern civilization if we do not at first admit that it is a universal conspiracy against any kind of inner life’. 

When I read this quote, it first sounded strange to me, maybe a bit conspiracist. But trying to meditate it, I finally understood, especially through my experience in Derby. Depending on where I was in the city, I was indeed more or less able to ponder, to breathe intellectually. I used to walk through the city from my house at Stanley Street to the post office of Kedleston Road, always on the same way. Because I always did this trip mechanically, I didn’t measure its emotional impact. But thinking about how to redact this blog I suddenly became aware of how emotional this little stroll was. As mentioned by ‘the city archaeologist’, Walter Benjamin, I will try now to go to the post office anew as if a child.   

Leaving my house, I walk on Stanley Street until Cecil Street on the left. Houses are all the same; little, adjoining, red bricks, an outdoor satellite antenna to have the best Wi-Fi flow. It is monotonous, repetitive, rather depressing. There is almost nobody. Unconsciously, I feel lonely. I seek a human presence, a sort of means to leave this loneliness. Sometimes a smile, sometimes nothing. At the end of Cecil Street, I pass by the New Zealand Arms pub. I scarcely notice it, it doesn’t cast a shadow. I reach on the corner of Surrey Street where there is the Cocco hair Salon. Immediately, I have a great feeling of freshness. Of course, I can’t help looking inside, to people who get their hair cut. It puts some change in the monotony of my stroll. Then I can see the fireworks shop in Ashbourne Road. My stroll becomes now a much bustled one. I have to be careful about cars and people. I walk quicker because it’s noisy and air is much more polluted. It wouldn’t be a lie if I said that I feel alienated. I hardly look to the shops around me (The Co-operative Food, E Liquid Paradise), all I want is to turn left on Mackworth Road and leave this place where I feel overwhelmed. Then, my trip gets a new side…

Passing by Britannia Mills, I meet a few students. My stroll becomes warmer and I feel better. Arrived in the path between West End Park and Markeaton Recreation Ground, it is as if all was born again. In this little green space in the middle of the urban ones, I feel free. My imagination, which was previously stifled, is now running. Now I can breathe, I can dream, I can live. I hear the sweet song of birds and I look at children who play on my left. I walk more slowly but it feels like I walk harmoniously with the place where I am. I appreciate this moment because I know that I will soon have to leave. Indeed after Cowley Street, I will have to overcome Kedleston Road aggressiveness if I want to post my letter…    

Having lived this experience I understand better Deborah Stevenson’s theories about ‘The Emotional City’. But more deeply, what I realise now, after having thought about all the emotional impacts of this mere trip, is how city isn’t a place for meditation or reflexion. Indeed, I was absolutely unable to think or to develop any kind of inwardness through urban spaces of Derby, so loud were the hustle and bustle. I really appreciated the green space of Mackworth Road. These spaces are essential to preserve an inner-peace. They are a kind of break in the city buzzing and pressure, a vital break for the wit.

MOITRY Benjamin

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