Hello, Blogonauts,

Today was my first full day in Germany's restored capital city.

I ventured out after arriving last night. But I was a bit discombobulated by what I saw: The monumental architecture looked a bit shabby; boring communist block buildings ranged from graffiti-clad to pristine; modern buildings that rival the world's finest were present but widely spaced; and there were more holes than a prairie dog town, each awaiting a new building. Tired and befuddled, I ultimately just plopped beneath an enormous umbrella at a sidewalk cafe in Hackescher Markt so that I could escape the showers and sample several Berlin specialties for dinner.

So this morning I was determined to find a context for this city. I joined about 30 other Berlin newbies on a "free" English walking tour operated by New Europe Tours. Our guide, an ex-pat Brit from Bath bewilderingly named Paulo, works only for tips. Since he has been performing these 3½-hour traveling talks for more than two years, I imagine the tips keep him well fed and watered.

We began, as would all English-language morning adventures, at the Starbucks adjacent to the Brandenburg Gate. Don't be too surprised, for across the street is the imposing United States Embassy. But more importantly, next to the Starbucks on the western side of the plaza, sits the French Embassy.

As you can see from the photo, the Brandenburg Gate is topped with a magnificent statue. Called the Quadriga, it was conceived as a statue of Irene (pronounced in German, ee-RAY-nah), the Greek goddess of peace, guiding a team of four horses. (Many of Berlin's grander, older buildings mimic classical Greek architecture ... a symbolic attempt to build legitimacy alongside the long-time European superpowers.) The Gate, one of 14 in the wall that surrounded the old Prussian capital city, was completed in 1791 and was meant to symbolize the peace that the Prussian royal family sought to achieve.

However, only 16 years after its installation, Napoleon trampled the Prussian Army, and as part of his plunder, he snatched the Quadriga off to Paris, where he planned to humiliate the Prussians by placing it on public display.

But as you see, it returned to Berlin. Despite his elevated self-opinion, Napoleon proved not to be invincible. After his defeat at Waterloo, the Prussians "liberated" their beloved statue and restored it to its former position. However, because it had been through two wars, they decided to give the statue a new name. She was no longer Irene (for peace), but instead Victoria (for victory). And to inflict their own humiliation on the French, they gave the renamed statue a new head turned slightly to the west, so that now the German god of Victory always looks toward the French Embassy. And in keeping with the same sentiment, they renamed the square into which Victoria is marching, "Pariser Platz," or Paris Plaza.* (See correction below.)

This story began to give me context for the city of Berlin. Berlin's leaders and people pay almost obsessive attention to symbolism, and they turn to symbols to impart both dignity and degradation upon themselves and others.

Here are some examples: When the Kaiser was dethroned after World War I, they began to remove all the trappings of royalty by destroying the palaces and royal buildings. When Nazis took power in 1933, they instituted a new kind of architecture that they considered more "German." Plus they used the trumped-up burning of the Reichstag by a mad man as the symbol that the German society was under a treacherous threat. One lunatic cannot topple a stable country, but propagandized as a symbol, that same lunatic can change the country's direction.

Following World War II, many German cities were rebuilt exactly as they had previously looked. Berlin, in contrast, was entirely reshaped. The Soviets wanted to remove most of the symbols of both royalty and of the Nazis. Hitler's palace was leveled and his bunker flooded and covered over. I saw the site today. It has become a nondescript apartment complex and parking lot ... symbolically forgotten.

These controversies of symbolism continue to this day. The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is emotionally moving, in part because it is confusing. But because there is no introductory sign, some accuse the German government of hiding its purpose. (The memorial's architect wanted no sign so that visitors would have to ask someone what these stones were, and thereby enhance the memory process.)

Ironically, this intense search for symbolism has left Berlin lacking the cohesion present in most of the other capitals of Europe. Berliners seem to treat each element as open to individual interpretation. This leaves open the (often realized) possibility of offending those who expect to be offended. Berlin's terrain contains so many holes because there remains so little consensus over how to proceed.

Great paintings focus the eye. Great novels work toward their climaxes. With such vigorous attention to the details, Berlin has perhaps paid too little attention to its own big picture.

And here's the odd thing: By recognizing how such an architectural tossed salad came to be, I found myself enjoying the disarray quite a bit more.

Tomorrow: Museuming!

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* (Correction, 26.May.2011) A reader emailed me asking about the Quadriga story, and some Internet research revealed that the narrative conveyed by Paulo wasn't fully accurate:

According to several sources, when the Quadriga was returned to Berlin from Paris, the Prussian King ordered it renamed from Irene to Victoria (... so that part is true). He also ordered that the German Iron Cross be added to the laurel wreath that sits atop her spear. And the square was, in fact, renamed Pariser Platz to mark the defeat of Napoleon in 1814.

However, I found no reference to the reported exchange of heads, or the inclination toward the French embassy. I doubt that such a drastic transformation would go unmentioned among the historic trivia.

All that said, the original Quadriga statue was almost entirely demolished by allied bombs during World War II. The original plaster molds still existed, however, so a new statue was cast in the 1950s to restore it to the top of the gate, but without the Iron Cross. Following German reunification in 1990, the Iron Cross was returned to the statue.