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Brussels: Not Your Ordinary City
Brussels fascinates and intrigues. How is it that this city — a hodgepodge where the worst atrocities of urban planning sit side by side with architectural jewels — can be so charming and seductive, to the point of being the envy of other large European cities?
Although Brussels is landlocked within Flanders, French is by far the dominant language. The Kingdom of Belgium’s multicultural capital, whose 19 ‘communes’ range from working-class Molenbeek to upscale Uccle, has become the country’s artistic centre, an extraordinarily creative centrifugal force. Crossing Brussels today is as much to travel through time as it is to take tour of diverse dialects and world foods.
This little book is not a guide, but rather a key. It allows the reader to understand the slow transformation of an ancient bourgeois town which many thought had drifted into a deep sleep. Until it became the capital of Europe. In order to be understood, Brussels must be decoded. This is not your ordinary city. Brussels is much more than a city.
This book comprises a short travel account followed by interviews with three prominent local historian Roel Jacobs ( No one has ever been able to finish what he started here ) social activist Fatima Zibouh ( Molenbeek is no Wild West ! ) and philosopher Philippe Van Parijs ( Brussels should aim for a trilingual future ).
This insightful book will walk you through Brussels' history and cultural heritage and help you understand the wonderful kaleidoscope it is today.
EXCERPT
Is there such a thing as the Brussels spirit? Indeed there is, in the sense that it summarizes the sometimes surreal country that produced René Magritte. If there were no Brussels, Belgium would surely not exist, for Brussels is the keystone to the country’s structure. However, the capital of Belgium is weakened by institutional complexity, wedged as it is between the Flemish and Walloon regions. Furthermore the Brussels spirit is inseparable from the Brussels accent, which is indispensable for uttering expressions such as ‘Arrête une fois de zieverer, dikkenek!’1 Not to be confused with the Belgian accent, which doesn’t really exist anyway.
And then there is the city’s international status. How many cities can boast that they have an airline named after them? ‘It’s because Brussels is a strong brand name’, we are told, even stronger than Belgium’s. If that is true, it is thanks to Europe and its 12 stars, which brought the city out of provincial obscurity and placed it squarely on the world stage. The economic benefits from the presence of the European Union are obvious, even though the average Bruxellois loves to criticize Eurocrat salaries, considered outrageous by many.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A Belgian journalist who covers international affairs for the news weekly Le Vif-L’Express , François Janne d’Othée has always kept Brussels as his home base. He knows the city inside out, from its most glamorous sites to its grittier – but no less colourful – corners.
Although Brussels is landlocked within Flanders, French is by far the dominant language. The Kingdom of Belgium’s multicultural capital, whose 19 ‘communes’ range from working-class Molenbeek to upscale Uccle, has become the country’s artistic centre, an extraordinarily creative centrifugal force. Crossing Brussels today is as much to travel through time as it is to take tour of diverse dialects and world foods.
This little book is not a guide, but rather a key. It allows the reader to understand the slow transformation of an ancient bourgeois town which many thought had drifted into a deep sleep. Until it became the capital of Europe. In order to be understood, Brussels must be decoded. This is not your ordinary city. Brussels is much more than a city.
This book comprises a short travel account followed by interviews with three prominent local historian Roel Jacobs ( No one has ever been able to finish what he started here ) social activist Fatima Zibouh ( Molenbeek is no Wild West ! ) and philosopher Philippe Van Parijs ( Brussels should aim for a trilingual future ).
This insightful book will walk you through Brussels' history and cultural heritage and help you understand the wonderful kaleidoscope it is today.
EXCERPT
Is there such a thing as the Brussels spirit? Indeed there is, in the sense that it summarizes the sometimes surreal country that produced René Magritte. If there were no Brussels, Belgium would surely not exist, for Brussels is the keystone to the country’s structure. However, the capital of Belgium is weakened by institutional complexity, wedged as it is between the Flemish and Walloon regions. Furthermore the Brussels spirit is inseparable from the Brussels accent, which is indispensable for uttering expressions such as ‘Arrête une fois de zieverer, dikkenek!’1 Not to be confused with the Belgian accent, which doesn’t really exist anyway.
And then there is the city’s international status. How many cities can boast that they have an airline named after them? ‘It’s because Brussels is a strong brand name’, we are told, even stronger than Belgium’s. If that is true, it is thanks to Europe and its 12 stars, which brought the city out of provincial obscurity and placed it squarely on the world stage. The economic benefits from the presence of the European Union are obvious, even though the average Bruxellois loves to criticize Eurocrat salaries, considered outrageous by many.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A Belgian journalist who covers international affairs for the news weekly Le Vif-L’Express , François Janne d’Othée has always kept Brussels as his home base. He knows the city inside out, from its most glamorous sites to its grittier – but no less colourful – corners.
- GenresTravelNonfiction
96 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 28, 2017
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October 20, 2017
I've recently discovered this fine collection of L'âme des peuples, a series of booklets covering stories about countries and cities all over the world. Originally published in French and all sporting wonderful cover art, they comprise a general, elaborate and wide-ranging introduction by the author and a bunch of interviews with people who live there. I had already gotten my hands on the French volumes on Iran and Israel when I also spotted a small English volume on my own city of Brussels.
I say "my own" city, but by no means am I a zinneke or a Bruxellois. Hailing from Ghent and after a detour in Vienna I arrived in Brussels just a little under five years ago, looking for a post of profitable pecuniary emolument, easy access to culture and a growing circle of international friends . This search was reasonable succesful at first as I was initiated into the Eurobubble, full of young Eurocrats keen to meet "local Belgians", and was welcomed into the vibrant professional community of Flemish civil servants.
After this relatively short time, I've recently bought a place to call my own just outside of the city centre. The shine of those first experiences has worn off, but the charm is still there. When I exit my appartment, close to Gare du Midi and the bustling Sunday market, I can take a left or a right.
The right will take me to Anderlecht, one of the poorer quarters of the city. Oranges are lying near porches after having been used to sterilise heroin needles. Trash is left carelessly on the curb, old sofas, stained mattresses and bulky plastic toys. Families gather and have dinner parties on the street that last well into the evening. People don't stay inside here, they stand in front of doors, at their homes, cafés or the city hall. They stand, talk and give a sad look to the strangers passing by.
When I take a left, I end up on a quaint little square with a fountain for children to play in, a couple of terraces and a community of homeless people who regularly get into fights. Continuing behind the square is a long boulevard that seems to come directly out of the Maghreb, the street lined with Tunisian bakers, Maroccan butchers and Algerian tea-houses. To my left, at Anneessens square, there's a white tent and policemen around it. A murder was committed. A bit further down that same street is the city centre, now a pedestrian area with Belgian bars and Irish pubs, fancy shops and dozens of kebab stands. Chances are there are some music or dance sensions going on in front of the Bourse building, with a cheering crowd and some drunk stragglers.
When I take a left there I end up in St.-Gery, with more bars, and the Flemish quarter of Dansaert, with its sprawling art and fashion scene, micro-breweries and the best fish restaurants hidden amongst the worst tourist traps.
I've just described a 25 minute walk. You walk around in one version of Brussels, only to take a left or a right and find yourself in a completely different one. This can be good news, as you can stumble upon a beautiful patch of green or a hidden coffeeshop when taking one of these turns. Other turns can prove less pleasant when you suddenly find yourself surrounded by menacing looks and closed shutters.
As in every big city, the pitfalls of loneliness and frustration lurk behind corners and in stranger's eyes, but despite my dwindling circle of international friends, as many of them hastily vacate the area to start up families, follow their career paths or find their roots again, I find a city brimming with opportunities sitting behind my window. Never mind the terrorist threat, never mind Trump calling this a "hellhole". The food is excellent, property prices are affordable and people are funny here, their humour a combination of the British dry wit and the French love of funny faces, but with a little less cynicism and a little more absurdity. The Bruxellois love to speak up. The maze of political governing bodies and the people in it are the kind of joke only a Bruxellois could come up with in one of his moments of absurdity, so we have to.
Yet, at times, while I can call this place my home by now, I still feel like a stranger and an observer when I go on my habitual walks. I thought this booklet could be a way of getting to know my capital a little better.
The book mainly confirmed many things I already knew. For one, languages are a thing here. French and Dutch (Flemish) are the official languages, French being the dominant one while Flemish tries to hold its little fort. I often catch myself asking for the bill or doing other shopping transactions in French, given the awkwardness of getting a puzzled look when expressing myself in my native tongue. Many Flemish people, especially those outside of Brussels, vehemently oppose to this practice as I'm eroding our common identity whilst trying to enrich mine (and basically get served what I want). I must help to hold the fort! It doesn't help that Brussels isn't popular in the north of Belgium, considered a territory lost to the French language, immigrants and crime. English and Arabic are gaining ground, but with so many nationalities running around here it would be remiss of me not to mention Spanish, Romanian, Russian, Italian and a whole swathe of other languages you can hear on the metro. I guess this goes for many big cities, but how many have their street names in two languages?
Another thing here is Europe, of which Brussels is called its heart. Eurocrats are earning money, hooking up with each other and living in their own little part of the city, the "European Quarter". Also, they're not paying any taxes. Some of them consider this city purgatory, others inevitably lose their heart to its enduring and mystic charm and stay here a lifetime.
Another thing is inequality. You've got these rich Eurocrats and expats and bankers and antique dealers and artists on the one hand, and you've got the unemployed and the homeless and the less succesful artists on the other, with civil servants like me snuggly in between. While all of them keep to their own closed communities, Brussels is not divided geographically among them, giving room to plenty of encounters, friendly and otherwise.
What new stuff has this book taught me? Some historical tidbits I guess, but not many, which is odd given the fact that one of the interviewees is a historian and that I didn't know much of the history to begin with. Upon being asked about the origins of the statue of the peeing boy, Manneken Pis, the historian goes no further than to state the self-derisive character of Brussels' inhabitants and leaves it at that.
Also, for a book published in February 2017, it's already getting a bit out of date. It expresses its solemn hope and faith in the new mayor, Yvan Mayeur, who got involved in a scandal a couple of weeks ago and had to step down. It mentions a bar called "Flamingo" as an enduring landmark in the bar scene. It's a pity that it closed down before summer and got replaced with a gourmet burger joint. That's a problem. While this book conveys the Brussels identity reasonably well, as it set out to do, it relies more on contemporary anecdotes rather than historical analysis, making it useful for only a small window of time. The three interviewees come from similar, rather intellectual, backgrounds, which doesn't help in conveying the abundance of voices and perspectives that dwell here. In short, this book might as well have been a longread in a monthly magazine, but it does offer an entertaining introduction to the city for those not home in it. Just read it quickly, because it's got an expiry date. Brussels isn't going to be sitting on its hands. At least, that's what one hopes.
We've got an iron atom the size of a cathedral and a peeing boy statue the size of a duck as monuments. Our air is instant cancer. Our pedestrian zone is a portion of a road intended for cars but blocked off by plants. Our latest mayor stole from the homeless. Our historical Bourse building will likely become a Beer Temple for tourists. Our cafés are world wonders. So no, Brussels is not an ordinary city. Is any, I wonder?
I say "my own" city, but by no means am I a zinneke or a Bruxellois. Hailing from Ghent and after a detour in Vienna I arrived in Brussels just a little under five years ago, looking for a post of profitable pecuniary emolument, easy access to culture and a growing circle of international friends . This search was reasonable succesful at first as I was initiated into the Eurobubble, full of young Eurocrats keen to meet "local Belgians", and was welcomed into the vibrant professional community of Flemish civil servants.
After this relatively short time, I've recently bought a place to call my own just outside of the city centre. The shine of those first experiences has worn off, but the charm is still there. When I exit my appartment, close to Gare du Midi and the bustling Sunday market, I can take a left or a right.
The right will take me to Anderlecht, one of the poorer quarters of the city. Oranges are lying near porches after having been used to sterilise heroin needles. Trash is left carelessly on the curb, old sofas, stained mattresses and bulky plastic toys. Families gather and have dinner parties on the street that last well into the evening. People don't stay inside here, they stand in front of doors, at their homes, cafés or the city hall. They stand, talk and give a sad look to the strangers passing by.
When I take a left, I end up on a quaint little square with a fountain for children to play in, a couple of terraces and a community of homeless people who regularly get into fights. Continuing behind the square is a long boulevard that seems to come directly out of the Maghreb, the street lined with Tunisian bakers, Maroccan butchers and Algerian tea-houses. To my left, at Anneessens square, there's a white tent and policemen around it. A murder was committed. A bit further down that same street is the city centre, now a pedestrian area with Belgian bars and Irish pubs, fancy shops and dozens of kebab stands. Chances are there are some music or dance sensions going on in front of the Bourse building, with a cheering crowd and some drunk stragglers.
When I take a left there I end up in St.-Gery, with more bars, and the Flemish quarter of Dansaert, with its sprawling art and fashion scene, micro-breweries and the best fish restaurants hidden amongst the worst tourist traps.
I've just described a 25 minute walk. You walk around in one version of Brussels, only to take a left or a right and find yourself in a completely different one. This can be good news, as you can stumble upon a beautiful patch of green or a hidden coffeeshop when taking one of these turns. Other turns can prove less pleasant when you suddenly find yourself surrounded by menacing looks and closed shutters.
As in every big city, the pitfalls of loneliness and frustration lurk behind corners and in stranger's eyes, but despite my dwindling circle of international friends, as many of them hastily vacate the area to start up families, follow their career paths or find their roots again, I find a city brimming with opportunities sitting behind my window. Never mind the terrorist threat, never mind Trump calling this a "hellhole". The food is excellent, property prices are affordable and people are funny here, their humour a combination of the British dry wit and the French love of funny faces, but with a little less cynicism and a little more absurdity. The Bruxellois love to speak up. The maze of political governing bodies and the people in it are the kind of joke only a Bruxellois could come up with in one of his moments of absurdity, so we have to.
Yet, at times, while I can call this place my home by now, I still feel like a stranger and an observer when I go on my habitual walks. I thought this booklet could be a way of getting to know my capital a little better.
The book mainly confirmed many things I already knew. For one, languages are a thing here. French and Dutch (Flemish) are the official languages, French being the dominant one while Flemish tries to hold its little fort. I often catch myself asking for the bill or doing other shopping transactions in French, given the awkwardness of getting a puzzled look when expressing myself in my native tongue. Many Flemish people, especially those outside of Brussels, vehemently oppose to this practice as I'm eroding our common identity whilst trying to enrich mine (and basically get served what I want). I must help to hold the fort! It doesn't help that Brussels isn't popular in the north of Belgium, considered a territory lost to the French language, immigrants and crime. English and Arabic are gaining ground, but with so many nationalities running around here it would be remiss of me not to mention Spanish, Romanian, Russian, Italian and a whole swathe of other languages you can hear on the metro. I guess this goes for many big cities, but how many have their street names in two languages?
Another thing here is Europe, of which Brussels is called its heart. Eurocrats are earning money, hooking up with each other and living in their own little part of the city, the "European Quarter". Also, they're not paying any taxes. Some of them consider this city purgatory, others inevitably lose their heart to its enduring and mystic charm and stay here a lifetime.
Another thing is inequality. You've got these rich Eurocrats and expats and bankers and antique dealers and artists on the one hand, and you've got the unemployed and the homeless and the less succesful artists on the other, with civil servants like me snuggly in between. While all of them keep to their own closed communities, Brussels is not divided geographically among them, giving room to plenty of encounters, friendly and otherwise.
What new stuff has this book taught me? Some historical tidbits I guess, but not many, which is odd given the fact that one of the interviewees is a historian and that I didn't know much of the history to begin with. Upon being asked about the origins of the statue of the peeing boy, Manneken Pis, the historian goes no further than to state the self-derisive character of Brussels' inhabitants and leaves it at that.
Also, for a book published in February 2017, it's already getting a bit out of date. It expresses its solemn hope and faith in the new mayor, Yvan Mayeur, who got involved in a scandal a couple of weeks ago and had to step down. It mentions a bar called "Flamingo" as an enduring landmark in the bar scene. It's a pity that it closed down before summer and got replaced with a gourmet burger joint. That's a problem. While this book conveys the Brussels identity reasonably well, as it set out to do, it relies more on contemporary anecdotes rather than historical analysis, making it useful for only a small window of time. The three interviewees come from similar, rather intellectual, backgrounds, which doesn't help in conveying the abundance of voices and perspectives that dwell here. In short, this book might as well have been a longread in a monthly magazine, but it does offer an entertaining introduction to the city for those not home in it. Just read it quickly, because it's got an expiry date. Brussels isn't going to be sitting on its hands. At least, that's what one hopes.
We've got an iron atom the size of a cathedral and a peeing boy statue the size of a duck as monuments. Our air is instant cancer. Our pedestrian zone is a portion of a road intended for cars but blocked off by plants. Our latest mayor stole from the homeless. Our historical Bourse building will likely become a Beer Temple for tourists. Our cafés are world wonders. So no, Brussels is not an ordinary city. Is any, I wonder?
June 6, 2021
I picked up this book in a café hoping to learn a few interesting facts about Brussels, a city where I lived for the pased 5+ years and which slowely became my home. It is a very small book and it worked well for me because I did not want to burdain myself with a thick historical book.
Overall, I engoyed reading it and indeed I found a few interesting facts about Brussels that I didn't know. However, a lot of things described in the book I've already learned or discovered by myself after living here for a while. My favorite part was the interviews of locals in the end.
It is true though that the book has an expiry date. While reading some parts I felt like it's already outdated since it's written and published in early 2017.
Overall, I engoyed reading it and indeed I found a few interesting facts about Brussels that I didn't know. However, a lot of things described in the book I've already learned or discovered by myself after living here for a while. My favorite part was the interviews of locals in the end.
It is true though that the book has an expiry date. While reading some parts I felt like it's already outdated since it's written and published in early 2017.
July 8, 2016
Ce court livre décrit le Bruxelles d'aujourd'hui à travers plusieurs considérations générales sur la population, l'histoire, la géographie et l'économie de la ville. Il me paraît principalement destiné aux personnes étant installés à Bruxelles depuis peu. Il s'agit d'un bon condensé, mais les Bruxellois de longue date n'apprendrons pas grand-chose et risquent de trouver la description un peu superficielle. Personnellement, j'ai trouvé que l'entretien avec Roel Jacobs était plus intéressant que le reste.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews