How can an article that is almost a confession, written in a melancholy tone of voice, in which sorrow and joy are intertwined, an article in which there exists remorse for harm done to the other, in which the author sees herself not as someone who proclaims the “last truth”, nor as someone who considers her “interpretation of the truth” to be “the only possible, genuine and just” one, but demands only that the truth be found, that the truth be faced, believing only in its sobering effect, as she once believed, despite the personal consequences, when telling the incontestable truth about “her environment” – how can such an article provoke that amount of fury, that amount of cynicism, such a torrent of sickly sweet pathos, all trying to “defend our cause”. I see reasons for such reactions in our perception of the “others”, who are not allowed to see us as we are, but only as we want to be. And we are, according to the tiny mirror in which we look at ourselves, “a dignified and creative nation, proud of its history” (the last two decades are part of that history too, whether we like it or not, ergo we should be proud of them too), we are blessed with (blessed by God of course) “great sensibility for the arts”.
more of the debate at Eurozine here.