Goetheanum, Dornach, CH

I entered 1st grade in Arlesheim, Switzerland, a small rural town in canton Basel Land. My mother had placed me with a family there while she was working full-time in Basel (Stadt) and was unable to care for me. My stay there was cut short by an outbreak of polio - from which I fortunately suffered only minimal effects – after which my mother decided to remove me from the household. During the brief time I did spend in Arlesheim though, inquiries were made by The Anthroposophical Society, headquartered at the Goetheanum in neighboring Dornach, about the possibility of allowing me to join the organization to be sheltered there and educated in its ways.

The Anthroposophical Society goes back to 1902 when the German branch of the international Theosophical Society was founded and led by Rudolf Steiner. His group always remained quite independent of the main branch that was geographically and spiritually headquartered in Adyar (Chennai), India. The bond between Steiner and the main society was irrevocably broken in 1913, when leadership of the Indian branch declared that they had found the reincarnated Christ in a young boy named Jiddu Krishnamurti.

If you have been keeping track of my postings from South India to didyouweekend.com, you will remember an earlier article I wrote about the Theosophical Society grounds and gardens in Chennai. - It’s a small world indeed! I myself hadn’t made the connection until now.

On a recent visit to Europe, which included some of my childhood digs, I (re)visited the massive and imposing Goetheanum again. It appears as quite an anachronism set in the gentle, bucolic landscape of Basel Land. The brainchild of multi-talented Steiner himself, it represents a pioneering use of cast concrete in large-scale architecture and has now been granted protected status as a Swiss national monument. Steiner's initial thrust was to liberate the building’s structure from traditional architectural norms and constraints, especially by shunning the use of the right-angle as a basis for any building plan. Thereby, he hoped to achieve organic forms that were spiritually expressive. The result is certainly unique and has been highly praised by any number of renowned names in modern architecture, including art critic, Michael Brennan, who referred to it as a "true masterpiece of 20th-century expressionist architecture". My own impression was that it clashed unnecessarily with the surrounding scenery. I saw Steiner’s ego dramatically at odds with itself – a dangerous situation that, given the right circumstance, could result in something akin to what happened in Jonestown, New Guinea.

While there, I experienced a strange post-apocalyptic sense. Wandering randomly throughout the building of multi-colored interior walls, I encountered no one. I found myself compulsively seeking out windows and balconies to verify that the sun was still shining; the trees still blooming, and that people were still going about their business in the usual way.

Outside, on the grounds, I met random groups of young backpackers, speaking any number of different languages. They must have made the journey for quite some other reason than my own. One group asked me to snap their picture with the building in the background.

Burg Rötteln, Germany

Throughout Europe, one can find scattered piles of stones. These are not like the stones that are seemingly thrown up by New England’s cursed soil; that some bent-back farmer may have fashioned into a crooked wall, a mill or a snake condo. These are the stones that went into the construction of elaborate castles by royally anointed land barons. They were generally built on high ground from where it was easier to protect the (often burdensome white elephant) property from the thieving intent of neighboring ingrates.

In Germany there are two words for ‘castle’: “Schloss” and “Burg”. A “Schloss” is usually something even bigger than a mansion, often including elaborate, formal gardens. It might be located inside or outside a city. In either case, it was never built with an eye toward having to protect itself. Hence, it was not necessarily built on high ground; it did not have a moat, drawbridges or high walls. It was usually the seat of a ruler who was quite secure in the knowledge that his army could protect him from harm long before the enemy has had a chance to advance to his door step.

A “Burg”, on the other hand, was always in danger. It was built in parts of the country where the king and his army had only nominal control. It was built like a fortress with lookout towers, housing knights who were well trained and suited for fighting. Once the drawbridges were raised and the spiked gates slammed shut, there was virtually no way to penetrate the insular sanctum which was often self-sufficient and had access to its own source of food and water.

The remnants of “Burgs” that have been left for the land to reclaim are infinitely more numerous than “Schloesser” (pl.) many of which have often been assiduously maintained and today function primarily as museums to showcase the region or period.

For me, the “Burgs” have all the charm. As a small boy growing up in Arlesheim in Switzerland, we kids used to go up into the wooded hills surrounding the town; and, sure enough, there too were the remains of a castle that promised to provide us with endless hours of fun. Not much remained of this particular one except a few walls forming a rock strewn passageway that led into a grotto. In those days, places in danger of falling down and hurting someone were seldom officially condemned. In fact, we kids were quite unaware of the danger. We played with raw abandon among the ruins. At one point I remember falling off a wall and onto the ground below. It seemed like quite distance and I was already thinking how I would explain my broken leg to the folks back home as I fell. Nothing happened. Instinctively I had rolled myself up into a ball, protecting my vital parts from the shock. I simply got up and continued my play.

We moved quite a bit in those days. Every place we came to, there was a “Burg” – some better than others. Just outside the German border town of Loerrach, there was one dating from back in the 13th Century that was still in pretty good shape. In fact, some enterprising people had successfully halted its decay, built an open-air stage there, along with a beer garden. The whole thing was then thrown open to an enthusiastic public.

It’s called either “Burg” or “Schloss” Roetteln. It’s actually more of a “Burg” but even in Germany the terms have become blurred. It’s located on high ground, overlooking the Wiesental (the valley of the Wiese River) that skirts the south-western edges of the Black Forest. On a clear day, one can see all the way to Basel, Switzerland, the transportation hub of the region.

I visited Roetteln on a clear and beautiful fall day. There weren’t many visitors. The feel of history was palpable. The gentle breeze on my face as I absorbed the landscape from the tower seemed to beckon something eternal. There are many such castles all throughout Europe. Europeans tend to take them for granted. If you happen to be over there, do ask someone locally if there aren’t any old ruins nearby. Chances are very good that there are. Ask him or her to point you in the right direction. You won’t be sorry to have made the effort.