In her book The Future of Nostalgia (2001) Svetlana Boym describes how the search for memory/nostalgia in a city is twofold—memory/nostalgia are connected to urban myths/stories and the physical spaces of the city. Boym unpacks the concept of topography or topos: “a place in discourse and a place in the world” (Boym 77). This dually-informed notion of memory/nostalgia stems from the practice of ancient orators whereby stories and parts of discourse are—usually arbitrarily—connected to places in the familiar environment, creating an “architecture” of memory (77). Cities and their pasts are comprised both of physical stones and stories and/or lived experiences; memory is embedded within architecture, and architecture is steeped in memory. For Boym, this dual nature of memory/nostalgia in the city can lead to the creation of “unintentional memorials… places of historical improvisation and of unpredictable juxtaposition of different historical epochs” (Boym 78). These places “threaten any attempt at selective and embellished reconstructions of history. They reveal something about those other dimensions of existence of another era, carry its physical imprints and its aura; they can become spaces for reflective nostalgia” (78-79). I believe such places are productive and important to cities as they resist totalizing narratives that may be installed by officials through the construction or reconstruction of monuments/memory sites/architecture that can ultimately be used to re-write, edit, or conceal parts of a city’s past.
I find my views on the reconstruction of significant architecture/sites to fall in line with those of Hoffmann-Axthelm’s. Hoffmann-Axthelm argues that reconstruction is not just symbolic, as significant sites such as the Schloss in Berlin function as “memorial topos,” or places for “critical and reflective memory” (Boym 183). For example, he argues that “if there is no Schloss, it is easier to forget the past” (183). For him, the Schloss is a site that “enables the discussion of aesthetics and politics, of guilt and expiratory sacrifice” (183). The Schloss is a topos; a “concrete place and a place in discourse” (183, added emphasis). Much like Hoffmann-Axthelm, I believe that such physical sites are necessary for reflective moral discourse that is “on the verge of disappearing in the hectic pace of development” not just in Berlin, but in many other historically significant cities—especially cities that are scarred by traumatic pasts. For example, the city of Brantford, Ontario is home to the site of the former Mohawk Institute Residential School, which was part of the Canadian Indian Residential School System and operated from 1885 to 1970 (woodlandculturalcentre.ca). Following its closure in 1970, Six Nations assumed ownership of the property, and in 1972, the former schoolhouse was converted into the Woodland Cultural Centre (woodlandculturalcentre.ca). The building is now used to teach about the history of residential schools in Canada. In 2013, a leak in the building’s roof lead to severe water damage, and the Six Nations community had to determine what they wished to do with the site. 98% of community members voted to save the historic building (woodlandculturalcentre.ca). These continual pushes by the Six Nations to preserve this site of historical trauma alludes to Hoffman-Axthelm’s argument that such sites function as “memorial topos” in that the physical places themselves are necessary for “critical and reflective memory” of the past (Boym 183).