Sain eile hommikul teada, et Michael Zeeman on surnud, üks kõige tähtsamaid inimesi minu elus, meie harvadest kontaktidest hoolimata. Ta on kõige elusam inimene, keda ma iial olen kohanud, ja ma keeldun uskumast, et teda enam ei ole. Michaeli pärast sooviks, et igavik oleks olemas, saaks saada uuesti kokku ja jätkata sealtsamast, kus pooli jäi - rääkida-rääkida-rääkida raamatutest, linnadest, elust ja visata iroonilis-sarkastilist nalja. Kuulata muusikat, mida ta on oma tohutust barokkmuusikakogust valinud, sofanurka kerra tõmbuda ja varustada end paari-kolme raamatuga tema 20 000 raamatuga erakogust. MIKS pagana pihta ei jõudnud ma Rooma, kui ta seal elas? Miks pagana pihta mõtlesin ma, et aega on lõputult? Kui irooniline, et ühes oma viimastest kirjadest kirjeldasin ma Jaan Krossi matuseid ning me rääkisime sellest, mis saab nüüd, kui eesti gigandid Lennart Meri ja Jaan Kross on lahkunud. Mis siis saab nüüd, kui Michael - Lugeja, Koguja, Kirjanik, Luuletaja, Eurooplane, Polüglott, tüüpiline Renessansiaja Geenius - on lahkunud? KUI palju igavam on elu! Kui mõttetu lahkumine keset elulugu.
"His passing will not fail to leave its mark. I would not be surprised if, after the funeral on Saturday, a woodland giant of the forest crashes inexorably to the ground somewhere in Europe. The moaning and rustling sound of the young branches in its crown will be heard as far away as Rustavelli Boulevard in Tbilisi. In the heart of Europe, in the triangle between Berlin, Amsterdam and Rome, the trunk wrenched violently from the ground will leave a big hole behind," kirjutab oma hüvastijätuhüüdes Steve Austen.
"As a polyglot, Michaël held the Dutch language in high esteem and handled it with much respect. As a cosmopolitan, he took it for his duty to point out with pride the peculiarities and specific values of the Dutch culture and letters to his fellow Europeans. As a public intellectual, he was a vehement critic of cultural nationalism, Dutch or any other. As a convinced European, he followed the twists and hiccups of the European integration process and its cultural aspects with much critical scrutiny and sarcasm. Inevitably, Dutch cultural life will become much more dry without Michaël Zeeman," kirjutab Dragan Klaic.
Ja nii kirjutab mulle Michael siis, kui Mia sündis - nii temalikult, slightly overdoing, aga me tunneme teineteist...;)
The best news is the most surprising news: there is a daughter, and one with a good, solid name as well. Had I known that sometime close to her arrival, I am afraid I would have taken a plane without hesitation in order to get introduced and to congratulate the mother. Now she has to wait a bit more and train on the correct pronunciation of my name - as I, for that matter, shall have to acquire some knowledge of the Estonian language before we, perhaps a bit timidly, will shake hands.
So, my dear, how did this all come to pass? And why do you so deliberately and demonstratively swallow your tongue where her father is concerned? Don't tell me the Immaculate Conception came to Tallinn. O Kaidi, I would love to see you as a mother - you, the strong one, the hard working one, the resolute one, who finally overcame her insecurities and decided to pass life on to a next generation. Time to send you my most cordial congratulations and the expression of feeling deeply moved, reading the news casually enveloped in an e-mail in the early morning of Rome.
Of course I'll play with her before we shall be old: don't make sick jokes on my part, will you? Yes, still reading, writing and speaking, wherever I like, though the crisis will surely limit my number of trips this year. Actually, at this very moment I am getting uneasy, since this morning I shall be catching a plane to Berlin (where I am quite frequently: shouldn't I move there?). If Mia Johanna will join you to Budapest, after the summer, I should try and make it to Budapest.
As you notice, your quick response makes me very happy. I am now in a hurry, but surely won't let you escape into oblivion once again for such a long time. Friendship is there to be celebrated, with or without coffee, in Tallinn of wherever. I send you, as ever, my love,
Zeeman Met Boeken