Zagreb Again: The Museum of Broken Relationships

I’m sending you to Zagreb this morning — to the Museum of Broken Relationships. I’m feeling much better today, but while my temperature’s almost back to normal, and constant sneezing’s been replaced by intermittent coughing, I’m going to direct most of my energy toward healing — which means I’ll mostly be reading a Donna Leon mystery, knitting a sock, and watching episodes of Offspring. . .

But while I’m coughing, you can move through the rooms of this delightfully quirky, richly human, surprisingly funny, devastatingly poignant exhibition of heartbreak housed in a marvelous old baroque palace in Zagreb’s Upper Town. If I were feeling better, I’d tell you a bit more about the inception of the museum and the ongoing and interactive work it continues to do. But I’m not — sorry! — and you can find that all out here.  I will tell you, very briefly, that all the artifacts in the museum had been donated (in response to a call for submissions) by those for whom they represented a heartbreak — and that the words accompanying them were the words of those donors.

All I’m going to do this morning, in fact, is gently push you ’round the corner and into the first room of the museum, where you can peek (via my photos) at a few of the exhibits to get a sense of the museum’s magic . . .

As I said, some of the exhibits devastate. . . .

We had our nine-year-old granddaughter here the last two days, and she and I were chatting yesterday evening about this museum. She visited it with her Mom and Dad in June when they over-nighted in Zagreb enroute to ourfamily week in Hvar. And if you’re wondering if the exhibit is suitable for kids — and if the kids are readers and have a thoughtful, reasonably patient personality — she gave it a thumbs-up, although she remembered that “some of the stories are really sad.”

The sad stories, though, are so well balanced with the entertaining or the truly funny.

And above all, I guess, the exhibits testify not only to the ubiquity, maybe even inevitability of heartbreak, but also to human resilience. . . .

How wry is this? And I won’t apologize for the difficulty of reading the print in these photographs (although I’ll suggest you enlarge by clicking or finger-spreading) — because part of the charm I remember from walking through these rooms is the invitation to read the plaques on the wall, to interpret their significance, especially in context with any accompanying artifact. As above, and below. . .

Now tell me, has there ever been a “Toaster of Vindication” in your life? Or its equivalent?

Our brief tour is over, and Pater is bringing the convalescent her breakfast in bed. I wish you a Happy Labour Day Weekend — oh, and if you are still harbouring remnants of a relationship that ended in heartbreak, the Museum of Broken Relationships continues to accept contributions. . . What would you send them, if you still had it? I know, that’s really personal, isn’t it? Perhaps just tell me if you think you’d enjoy spending more time in this museum. Or whether I’ve finally convinced you to head to Zagreb. Or how you’re feeling about the end of summer — not quite here yet, but Labour Day weekend does launch us into September, if not quite Fall for three more weeks. . .

Because, as you know, comments are always welcome here. . . 

22 Comments

  1. Marsha
    31 August 2018 / 6:20 pm

    To think I would never have known about the Museum of Broken Relationships if I hadn't read your entry today – quelle horreur! I am grateful to you. I don't know what I'd send – the old love letters, maybe? Mostly, I just keep my memories . . . and trust them to soften/brighten with age and perspective.

    • materfamilias
      31 August 2018 / 8:04 pm

      Quelle horreur indeed!
      Yes, I think most memories — even of heartbreak — soften with age and perspective, and I think that's much of what the museum testifies. . .

  2. Anonymous
    31 August 2018 / 7:34 pm

    I have been reading your blog for a little while now but never commented. I needed this today. In hopes of finding a late in life romance I had been emailing a seemingly lovely gentleman. a widower he said, ready to love again. he was intelligent, articulate, even poetic. Until he asked me for money! and so it goes.
    Darby

    • materfamilias
      31 August 2018 / 8:07 pm

      I'm so glad you were finally prompted to comment, Darby, but I'm so sorry this happened. Good for you, though, for taking a chance, for continuing to hope and look for the romance you'll still like to find (and so what if it's later in life?!). Good for you, too, that you're able to recognize the manipulation for what it is, even in such a seemingly attractive package. I also applaud your willingness to share your experience, recounting it with enough humour (and so it goes!) to hint at your resilience. If you ever get to Zagreb (or the LA museum), you'll find you have much company.

  3. Georgia
    1 September 2018 / 12:23 am

    Have you seen the trailer for HBOs My Brilliant Friend? If not it might be a nice little sick-bed treat. Take care 🙂

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:24 pm

      I did see it, and it was, and now I’m thinking I might have to subscribe to HBO!

  4. Susan B
    1 September 2018 / 12:53 am

    The Toaster Of Vindication cracks me up every time I read that. Poignant, sad, and ultimately funny. Kind of like life. Feel better soon!!

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:25 pm

      Me too, Sue! Have you ever been to the Los Angeles part of the Broken Relationships project?

  5. anonymous
    1 September 2018 / 12:58 am

    Much more amusing that I would have thought. I especially like the Toaster of Vindication.

    slf

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:26 pm

      It has a certain ring, right?

  6. K.Line
    1 September 2018 / 3:32 am

    This museum is fascinating – SO my kind of thing! Also, Offspring is the best way to get through a sickness.

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:26 pm

      Yes and yes! Kindred spirits!

  7. Madame Là-bas
    1 September 2018 / 5:05 am

    I would send an umbrella. Once upon a summer, a long time ago, a shy bookish girl moved out of her family home and met a handsome and charming young man on the seawall. It was the stuff of romance novels! She invited him to stay in her tiny bedsitter in the West End. Things went well until she came back early one day because she had forgotten her umbrella. There was another girl in her bed! What an odd museum but certainly thought-provoking.

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:27 pm

      I love this contribution, thank you! A postcard story…

  8. Anonymous
    1 September 2018 / 10:48 am

    It was a great idea,wasn't? It is so bitter sweet,sad and,sometimes, funny
    I remember the start,only a couple of walls with exibits,but surprisingly fresh,fascinating and amazing Museum
    Madame,so far,nothing beats your umbrella….I hope you were not sad for a long time-it was not a gentleman and he certainly wasn't worth it
    Have to visit the Museum this year,too
    My contribution? Well,maybe an umbrella,too,as a token to
    a relationship that never started….
    Or a "golden" necklace that I've got many years ago but have taken to the sea a month ago and got an allergy(yes,diamonds are girls best friend-I'm a kind of girl that's allergic to everything -on the skin-except gold,when we are talking about jewelry)-as a token to the relationship that has lasted too long….
    Have a nice and healthy weekend
    Dottoressa

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:30 pm

      Ha! Did he think you’d never know? You’re like the Princess and the Pea!
      It must have bee interesting watching that museum take shape-perhaps there was some local skepticism at first….

  9. Anonymous
    1 September 2018 / 4:57 pm

    What a quirky idea. Would love to visit. Thank you for sharing. Mary

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:31 pm

      You’re very welcome!

  10. High Heels in the Wilderness
    2 September 2018 / 2:46 am

    I'd send the pink pen I lent to Donnie J on whom I had a violent and unrequited crush in grade 8. It was (and still is) in my box of childhood keepsakes. A few years ago when my best friend from grade school came to stay for a weekend, we drank wine and sorted through my old letters etc one evening. She grabbed the pen and shouted, "Oh my god, it's the pen you lent to Donnie J in grade 8! I can't believe you still have it." I still can't believe that she remembered that I lent it to him, much less recognized it. That woman has the memory of an elephant! Ha. Thinking of that story always makes me smile.
    I'd love to visit that museum. What an idea!
    Hope you're feeling a bit better:)

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:34 pm

      Too funny! “He touched it. He held this pen!” and the replaying of your eyes meeting as you passed it across to him….
      But truly, much more precious than that pen is The grade school friend who remembers those days with you. No wonder you smile

  11. Mary
    2 September 2018 / 11:28 am

    Glad you are on the mend and that Pater is still offering you solace.

    On another note: the October issue Lonely Planet Traveller (UK version) has an article titled the 'Best of Croatia'. While it praises Zagreg, it failed to mention the museum. Such an oversight!

    • materfamilias
      2 September 2018 / 5:35 pm

      An oversight indeed! Clearly they need a more savvy correspondent…I’ll be waiting by the phone🤣

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