become a prague walker 

Guillaume Apollinaire, one of the founders of European avant-garde poetry, came to Prague in March 1902 and stayed for several days. He resided at the Bavaria Hotel in the former U Rozvařilů brewery. That it was indeed this house is confirmed by the documented cabaret on the ground floor, which Apollinaire mentions in the story. Today, the site is home to the impressive Functionalist building of the Archa Theatre. Since 2012, there has been a bust of Apollinaire by German sculptor Heribert Maria Strub in the atrium of the passage that runs through it, as well as a plaque commemorating the poet’s stay. 

The ghostly journey through the city, which makes Apollinaire’s story one of the most magical texts about Prague ever written, begins that same evening. Apollinaire steps out to see the city and promptly meets a bizarre stranger in whom he soon recognises Ahasuerus – the legendary Eternal Jew who has been wandering the world since the time of Christ. It is he, this time under the name of Isaac Lakedem, who becomes the poet’s guide through Prague.  

Reconstructing the first part of their journey is not easy; the only clues are the houses U Panny Marie (At the Virgin Mary), U Orla (At the Eagle) and U Rytíře (At the Knight), which are not actually located near náměstí Republiky (Republic Square) – but they ignite the imagination of those who come searching for Apollinaire and his traces all the more. We can safely locate the pair once they reach Old Town Square. Apollinaire mentions the grave of Tycho Brahe in the Týn Cathedral, which they both actually visit. Naturally, they cannot miss seeing the iconic Old Town Astronomic Clock, which the poet describes in a fascinating way. In 1902, he still saw it with the original set of apostles before the clock was badly damaged by an artillery shell at the end of World War II.   

From Old Town Square, our heroes continue through the Jewish Quarter. It being 1902, Apollinaire was very lucky indeed, because despite the ongoing redevelopment, he was able to see part of the former Jewish ghetto in its original picturesque form. Today it is intersected by Pařížská Street, the most luxurious boulevard in Prague. The Jewish Quarter made a great impression on Apollinaire. He was dazzled by the ancient synagogue, which is most likely the Old New Synagogue – the oldest synagogue still in use in the world. According to legend, the Prague Golem is located in its attic. Finally, he recalls the clock in the Jewish Town Hall whose hands turn backwards, and which can still be seen today. This motif also reappears in Apollinaire’s famous 1912 poem Zone. 

On Charles Bridge, which they cross on their way to the Lesser Town, the poet pauses at the statue of St. John of Nepomuk, whose story he recounts. He will recall the same saint at the St. Vitus Cathedral when he mentions his silver tombstone. This detail also confirms the worldwide popularity of our saint of the confessional mystery. Of the journey to the Castle, Apollinaire merely says that it was uphill and bordered by palaces. Those interested in reliving his ghostly pilgrimage will make no mistake, whether they choose Nerudova Street or Sněmovní Street and then Thunovská Street.  

In Apollinaire’s rendition, the tour of the Prague Castle compound culminates with a visit to the St. Vitus Cathedral and in particular the St. Wenceslas Chapel. Here the poet undoubtedly experienced the most powerful incident in his entire visit to Prague – in the veining on one of the amethysts or agates that line the walls, he saw ‘a face with blazing mad eyes,’ which according to legend depicts Napoleon. The poet is said to have cried out in horror: “He, who was so afraid of going mad, recognised in it his own insane face!” For a hundred years now, all his devotees who visit the church have been trying to find the semi-precious stone with Apollinaire’s face, but none have succeeded so far. It is said to be visible only in the rare light of a single early evening moment.  

This is the turning point in the story: Sightseeing as a means of capturing the soul of the city has been exhausted; the friends now set out to experience the life of its streets and locals. Apollinaire quotes, as if in passing, a famous scientist of his time, Alexander von Humboldt, who considered Prague the fifth most interesting city in Europe.   

The story’s protagonists return to the right bank of the Vltava River “across a more modern bridge.” Mánes Bridge was not yet standing, so it could have been the Emperor Franz I Bridge, today’s Most Legií (Legion Bridge). We would be hard put to identify the pub near Ferdinandova třída – today’s Národní třída Avenue, where they had goulash and beer, but it doesn’t really matter. One of the charms of our pilgrimage is that it leaves room for mystery. After a stop at Wenceslas Square, our friends return to the Jewish Quarter, where they end their day at an establishment where men’s nocturnal wanderings often ended at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. The fantastical ending of the story is no longer relevant to our journey.  

With this mysterious tale and several immortal verses in the poem Zone, Apollinaire became one of the most famous poets of Prague. His oeuvre, translated into Czech for the young authors of the interwar generation by Karel Čapek, one of the most important Czech writers, influenced the whole of our avant-garde poetry. “The great Guillaume, without whom there would have been no poetry of the twentieth century,” another extraordinary Czech poet, Vítězslav Nezval, later wrote about him – and he was right. Czech poetry was revived by French inspiration, and Czech poets established close relations with their French colleagues Paul Éluard, Philippe Soupault and Andre Breton, culminating in the founding of the Surrealist Group in the Czechoslovak Republic in 1934. Our poetry owes this too to Guillaume Apollinaire, the man who led poetry over the dilapidated footbridge of Parnassianism into the 20th century.