Exquisite Memoir

The Snows of Yesteryear 

by Gregor von Rezzori

“To recognize what is absurd and to accept it need not dim the eye for the tragic side of existence; quite on the contrary, in the end it may perhaps help in gaining a more tolerant view of the world.”― Gregor von Rezzori, The Snows of Yesteryear

This is one of the most exquisite and profound memoirs I have ever read. Gregor Von Rezzori has a remarkable talent for crafting exquisite metaphors that evoke a feeling of location and history. This is what distinguishes his memoir from others. A subtitle for the memoir reads, "Portraits for an Autobiography." As a result, Von Rezzori organizes his memoir around his family, dedicating chapters to "The Mother," "The Father," and "The Sister." These are his portraits, and he only gave them the names "Cassandra" and "Bunchy," which were their childhood nicknames, when he wrote two chapters about people who were close to him but not related. This arrangement by family portrait creates a chronological mosaic composed of short stories that are connected by his recollections.

When the Second World War broke out, his cherished homeland vanished, marking the end of the memoir. Originating in the years following World War I, this gives his personal narrative a historical backdrop. As a result, the memoir's themes are based on the idea of a world that has been destroyed, collapsed, and faded into what is now his "yesteryear." In "The Mother"'s opening, von Rezzori uses a metaphor to explain them: "The mermaid is blind; her world has turned to rubbish." The tinsel from a long-forgotten carnival is inside the chest. Additionally, the mermaid is decaying.(p 55)

The "golden mists" of the past are the expectations that were so bold and vivid when he was younger. Nevertheless, there is a lot of humor and beautiful detail in this tale of decline because the author captured the Rabelaisian joy of spending time with his father, the pride he took in learning to hunt, and the rare but sweet times when his mother lavished him with all the love she had kept hidden from him due to her habitual neglect of her family. "I envied her for being our father's favorite; she despised the blind infatuation my mother showed me, suffered maternal injustices with mute pride, and devalued her mother's preference in my own eyes," he says, describing his sister and himself sharing intimate moments. When I was a little oaf, she was a graceful girl; when I was still a lout, she was an exceptionally good young woman." (p 204)

The memoir ends with a short epilogue where, among other things, the adult Gregor Von Rezzori (who became an accomplished journalist, media personality, and author) shares his personal return to his birthplace of Czernowitz and found that "it wasn't the Czernowitz whose vision I had carried in me for half a century." He found, like so many who grow up and leave their home of birth, that you literally cannot go home again, for the place you left is different than the myth your mind has created and hidden by the mists of time. The story told in this memoir is ultimately one of dissolution of both an idea and an ideal. It is memorable for the beauty and love that was experienced by this often lonely man. It is this that shines through and creates a glowing memoir of a yesterday that will remain forever impressed upon all who read it.

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