I recently visited the Bellu Cemetery, where since last year—carved in bronze in a manner inspired by the hand of master Virgil Skripkaru—the profile of Neagu Juvara has guarded the entrance to his family’s vault. I began to wonder why the story continues to remain alive in the minds of ordinary people, with all the troubles that write our existence. Perhaps because the mystery of life for such a person as him was not at all a marginal reality? “The secret is to fight with yourself all your life,” said Neagu Juvara. “This is the only way to overcome yourself and turn weaknesses into virtues.” What made the famous writer not succumb to the weeds of human inconsistency and not lose decency or measure? Is it not a fact that the human vanity of self-care and reinvention of our idols often threatens the bitter taste of fatality to our existence?

During this sweltering summer, we’ve had shameless gentry celebrations (with coats of arms!) for great spellcasters, or the forays of some feathered countrymen thrashing about on the plains, showing their nostalgia for the sinister characters of the past, justifying their complicity in the past on the grounds that they were ” gentlemen”. Not to mention the general indifference to the news about the tragedies of innocent people or, in another context, about the fatal procession of sympathy for the imperialism of our East. Grotesquely disguised – until the new orders under the guise of an apology for the Christian order, even after the invasion of a neighboring country – this last audacity has meanwhile become an emblem of meanness.

In this world where we wait and beg for the attention of others, we feel alive only because we are noticed. Rather, we perceive success as an exclusive triumph of power or financial control over existence, coming to feel that nothing will happen unless we value our skill as a consumer product. If we can no longer accumulate merits or successes, under the burden of failures and wounds that pride accumulates on us, we become demoralized and think that there is nothing more to be done. However, inspired by the humility that Neagu Juvara holds sacred, his generation has always distinguished heaven from earth. Memoirs of a historian (Memories from travels) shows him happily surprised in the face of his calling to overcome his mediocrity, inviting us to accept life as it is and persevere in the face of our sadness.

“In general, I’m not a cheerful person,” Nyagu Juvara honestly admits. “I am quite melancholic. But in society I am unstable and I like to tell stories.” Perhaps that is why, even after his departure from us, his personal charm continues to prompt us to reconsider his moral guidelines, to re-read his books and, of course, to pray for his decent soul. Bored at the end of this hot summer (which took care of a good mood!), you should allow yourself to be encouraged by Neagu Juvara – born on August 31, according to the new style. – Read the entire article and comment on Contributors.ro