German-born American writer Kurt Vonnegut was in Dresden when the city was bombed. He was saved by a miracle. But the image of destruction marked him deeply; and when he spoke of the city of Dresden before the catastrophe he evoked his “peaceful aspect” of him. Hospitals, breweries, musical instrument factories, food companies. The wide streets lined with trees. Monuments, public gardens. Libraries, museums, theaters, art galleries, the university, the zoo. I am struck by the simple adjective that Vonnegut associates with the appearance of Dresden. The adjective “peaceful”.
And as I look at this photograph taken today in Toretsk, eastern Ukraine, I tell myself that it has a paradoxical – and heartbreaking – “peaceful” aspect. The Russian attack killed eight people who were at the bus stop. The rubble in front of which the residents pass, walking their dogs on this summer day, is an unreal and frightening setting. But life continues for those who survive, and flows “peacefully” even among the ruins.