Chapter 46 45

【Jeweler】 As I passed the hotel counter one morning, the waiter waved me over. Your package has finally arrived. He puts a FedEx envelope on the counter.Sitting on a couch in the lobby, I unsealed the envelope and shook out the contents.The brooch fell into my lap along with the pages of a folded notebook. □□□ Dear Choi, Now you are the most beautifully dressed person in all of Europe.Hope you still come back. adam I turned the brooch in my hand, running my fingers over the tarnished silver threads that made up the dragon's body.Although the metal is scuffed and scratched, it is similar to the one I saw in a nightclub.On the reverse side is engraved a line of very small characters: CVG.There is a strange circular logo behind the letters.

I first saw the brooch when I found it in the garage before leaving for London.Or have you seen it before?I thought back to being by the sea with my grandmother, and tried to imagine the brooch, the twisted body of a dragon gleaming in the afternoon sun.But I can't be sure. I went to one of the computers in the lobby and connected to the Internet, looking for an expert on Scandinavian jewelry who might recognize the brooch.I searched with every word I could think of, but the operators I found were all outside Germany.Today is the 24th of September and I can't waste time sending out the brooch.I added the word Berlin to the search and found the website of a jewelry designer with a very Scandinavian-sounding name.I went to a page called Replicas and scrolled through pictures of Viking jewelry.

Inside was the brooch.The fighting creatures entangled each other, and the curved dragon's head showed a labored expression.It was the same brooch, but in a different style, with thicker silver thread and a more realistically defined dragon.The caption to the picture reads the advertisement: Urnes stylized brooch, legal fine silver.I click the contact button.The address is Oranienburg Street 54︱56a, Taheles Art Center, just a short walk from the hostel. I grabbed my backpack and headed south across the intersection. The building was huge, five stories high and a full block long.I checked the address several times and it was correct.Graffiti-painted half-destroyed surfaces; large holes cracked between ornate moldings and statues whose heads and limbs have been pried off

The foyer was a mess of beer bottles and cigarette butts.I climbed a dirty staircase to the second floor, leading to a labyrinth of corridors with closed doors.A young man walked past dragging a smashed TV on a rickety cart.I asked him where the jeweler's workshop was.He replied with an Australian accent: Go up to the third floor and turn right.Go straight to the end. I followed him to a hallway where the white bricks were glazed and there was graffiti everywhere.At the end of the corridor was a thick metal door, and the arched part above it was written in black paint in large letters: HIER SIND SIE SICHER.Looks like an abandoned bomb shelter entrance.A business card was taped to the door.

l.Kwala︱Jewelry Design Although the door was open, I knocked anyway.A woman's voice told me to come in. The studio is large and deep.A long row of workstations was propped against one wall; on the other wall was an old desktop computer and a whole cabinet of library-style sorting drawers.There are tools everywhere.There was a shelf with hammers arranged by size; jigs, files, and pliers hung on pegboards; a table full of soldering irons; a forging anvil; and an electric buff. The jeweler turned to face me.She speaks first in German and then in English. Is there a problem? She had short gray hair, a canvas work apron and gold-rimmed glasses hung on a chain around her neck.She was eating something from a plastic lunch box with a pair of chopsticks.

Excuse me.Lunch is late today I told her I wanted to authenticate a piece of my grandmother's jewelry.She looked at me a little curiously, and wiped her hands on her work skirt.I took the brooch out of the bag and gave it to her.She checks, then looks up at me. This is from your grandmother?Where are you from California. The jeweler frowned. But your grandma isn't from California. right.She is British.In fact, there are some Swedish ancestry. The jeweler sat down at his workbench.She turned on a bright halogen lamp and looked under a rotating magnifying glass.Although she has an accent, she speaks English fluently and clearly.

Generally speaking, this can be regarded as Urnes style.Some Late Viking Urnes brooches can now be found.This is a modern replica.but not recent products The jeweler turned the brooch back.She gritted her teeth and took a light breath. engraved words.Do you know what these letters mean? Abbreviation of my grandmother's name.But I don't know what that flag is. The jeweler went to the bookshelf, pulled out a large paperback book from the shelf, and slowly flipped through it.She mumbled something and handed me the book.It was an auction catalog in some Scandinavian language.There's a picture of a brooch on it, exactly like this one.The jeweler smiled triumphantly.

I knew I'd seen that sign! The jeweler believes the brooch to be an early twentieth-century Icelandic silversmith, Islavier.Semensen's work.The logo engraved after my grandmother's initials is his signature.The jeweler said Islawell's pieces were so rare she hadn't seen them anywhere except in a handful of museums in Scandinavia.I look at the catalog and she pokes her head from behind me. It's Danish.Want me to translate? The jeweler retrieves the catalog and puts on his glasses.She hesitated to translate the content, thinking about how to express it.I write down notes as fast as I can.

Isleville.Semensen's Urnes style brooch.Made around 1928.The original forgery was found in an abandoned farm in Djrajögur, Iceland, and is believed to be from the eleventh century.It is said that the Drashgul Brooch originally belonged to a heroine in the Njals Saga.Isleville was a talented silversmith who brought the Urnes style back into fashion in the 1920s.The jewelry he made was inspired by medieval pieces, but only a few survive.A fine piece of his can be worth up to nine thousand crowns. The jeweler smiled. This is a very beautiful brooch.And it's rare.Might be worth a fortune.

Do these carvings indicate that something was commissioned in Iceland? The jeweler sighed.She put the brooch under the magnifying glass again. Abbreviation probably by Islawell.Well carved and fits his signature style too She turned to look at me. But there's no way to be absolutely sure.Any good silversmith can do it. Could it be that someone bought it outside of Iceland?Then engrave locally? The jeweler frowned.I am not an expert.But I don't think this Isleville was that famous at the time.And Iceland is very far away.I also doubt that he will sell his works to other countries.

So someone must have bought the brooch in Iceland. The jeweler took off his glasses and shrugged. I guess so.But does it matter?You're not going to sell the brooch, are you? No. She nodded.One day you will give it to someone.But not for the money. I thanked the jeweler and asked her if she wanted anything in return. Do you mind if I take a few pictures with this brooch?Use it as a reference.This is very helpful for my work. The jeweler put the brooch under a lamp and took a few pictures with a digital camera.Finally she turned the brooch in her hand again, looked at me, and gave it back to me.I hang the bag over my shoulder. can i ask you somethingWhat's the story behind this building?Many places are damaged. The jeweler smiled.Although I only came to Berlin in 1987, I know some background stories. She told me that the house was built a hundred years ago and is one of the largest promenade malls in Europe, stretching from Friedrichstraße to Oranienburger Strasse.There used to be an ornate coffered vault and a system of pneumatic tubes for the swift delivery of paper messages in small containers.Later, the building became a department store, and then became a display area for modern products. It was the first place in Germany to broadcast TV.Then the Nazis took over the building: they filled the skylights with bricks and locked French prisoners of war on the top floor.It was bombed during the Battle of Berlin and fell into disrepair after the war.The vault was pulled down in 1980.Ten years later, the building was supposed to be razed, but a group of artists saved the place from being destroyed. I think we should save this old place.Not just because I need a place to work. I nod.I was thinking that the damage might have been caused by the war.But what about those words on your door? Hier sind sie sicher?That's not what I drew.I went to Copenhagen a few weeks ago and got it when I came back But what does that mean? She shrugged.You are safe here. The jeweler came to the door and opened it for me. to remember.She said: Put that brooch away. I stepped out of the building trying to figure out what I had just learned.The brooch came from Iceland, and I never heard my grandmother had anything to do with that country.I cross Oranienburger Strasse, sit on a bench, and read again the jeweler's translation in my notebook.Halfway through, I closed my notebook and started jogging towards the hostel. When I passed Rosenthal Square, I was already sprinting with all my strength.I entered the hostel, took two steps of the stairs and ran up the first step.Yin Mozhen's letter is in my backpack.It took me a while to find that page. □□□ October 17, 1916 Honey Eleanor & I went to the London library today.I chose a tall stack of books, but fell asleep within ten pages after sitting down.I dreamed wonderful things I told you about the stave church of Urnes, but the famous front door hadn't been carved yet, so you took out your knife & we carved together You carved a creature & I carved one too, Their bodies are tightly knit.You cut off a small piece of the door as a souvenir for me to keep, because we are now two joined souls.Then the glockenspiel sounded to remind us to go into church, but when you put your hand on the door I woke up. I took out the brooch and turned it over in my hand.This silver jewelry is very cold.I stroked the dragon's hard, flat eyes, no wider than the tip of a blade of grass. (What if I never saw it,) I thought. (What if I never asked someone to send it.) I went downstairs to the computer and connected to the search engine.I hesitated, then typed Urnes. In the middle of the night, lying awake in my hostel bed, I heard the trams stop and start below me, laughter and talking from sidewalk sidewalk cafés.Others in my room came and went, drinking beer and clinking bottles, rummaging through their backpacks and changing clothes under the half-bright bedside light, getting ready to go out for the night. The brooch is under my pillow.Its secret is half unlocked.I've spent four hours reading about the art of the ancient Scandinavians. The Urnes style of the eleventh and twelfth centuries was one of the last animal-related artistic styles of the Viking Age.The style takes its name from the stave church in Urnes, which sits on a plateau overlooking the blue Rusdjöfjord, the inner waterway of Norway's longest fjord.On the north door of the church there is intricate carving depicting a four-legged creature biting a writhing snake.Here we see the most aesthetically fluid and stylistic representation of animals flailing in desperate battle, their distorted limbs implying the dynamic and immutable fate of nature. I knew I could go back to England or I could go back to France or even go home.But I know I won't do any of these.Ever since I stepped off the plane at Heathrow, I've entered a world almost unrecognizable.I sense a new set of natural laws at work, but I don't understand what the forces are behind it. The later Urnes style survives in objects created throughout the Scandinavian world: runes from eastern Sweden, bronze ornaments from Denmark, silver brooches from southern Iceland.Some scholars believe that the meaning of those creatures is like the confrontation between good and evil in Christianity.Others believe they represent ancient Scandinavian Ragnarok legends: that a cataclysm and a great war will wipe out both gods and humans, causing the end of the world, leaving only two human survivors to start the world over.Whatever the source of inspiration for Urnes' sculpture, the viewer can tell there is a deliberate irony in it: each creature that fights an opponent becomes more and more like an enemy until the two become entangled , almost inseparable Although struggling hard, they can't get rid of the common fate. What is it that guides me to them?And what caused Ashley and Yin Mozhen to meet but then torn them apart?Is it also because of this power that millions of Europeans are driven to great upheavals, fighting for years against an enemy they have no reason to hate?Against that background, Ashley and Yin Mozhen are just white waves on the sea, just fragments of a huge shipwreck. Among the promoters of the modern revival style, there is a silversmith from the remote fjords in eastern Iceland: Islavier.Semensen.Isleville is quite far from the art centers of the Continent, and he is famous for mixing modernist influences and Viking age themes.During his short artistic career (1925︱1937), Islewell produced a wide range of works, ranging from stylish Art Deco jewelry to fairly faithful interpretations of the Ringerik and Urnes museums. I have no intention of digging into other people's past.And after eighty years, there is nothing I can do about two lovers who are long dead and long forgotten.Maybe it's better to forget like this, and let everything return to ashes.Perhaps this is the world's way of undoing cruelty, like Ypres, which looks like Regent's Park eighty years after it was buried in Falderland's soil. I lifted the quilt and took out my notebook. □□□ Things I'm sure of: 1. Inmogene wrote to Ashley in 1916, mentioning the sculpture of Urnes. Apparently they had discussed the matter. 2. Sometime in the 1920s and 1930s, a man named IslewellSemensen's Icelandic silversmith made a Urnes pattern brooch. 3. Charlotte's initials are engraved on the brooch. 4. Someone gave Charlotte a brooch. 5. Today is September 24th.I only have two weeks left. I dressed in the dark, took my wallet out of my backpack, went downstairs to use my computer, and bought a one-way ticket to Reykjavik.