In the streets of London, I see a group of girls about my age, dressed in some of the most out-there, “Instagram worthy” fashion I’ve ever seen. They pass in front of a church that was built in the Middle Ages, standing proud among the cosmopolitan wonderland below. I hear them chattering, as they plan what club they want to visit on this Thursday night. On this same street, for centuries prior, young people our age have done the same in different forms—whether they were going to a ball in the 19th century or a rock concert in the 1980’s—London nights seem to have always been and always be lively.
In the streets of London, I see an immigrant family walk down steps to the London bridge. They speak in a language that isn’t English, yet it’s obvious through their body language that they’re locals, going on a stroll. Above them is a blue plaque which tells me the steps we’ve passed are the steps where the character Nancy from Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist was murdered. Plaques like these are everywhere in town, marking important historical sights. Some tell you the sites of historical events, while others show you where influential Londoners have lived. In the house where Charles Dickens once lived now lies a branch of the British Medical Association. As time passes who knows what it’ll be next!
In the streets of London, art lives in every corner. On my free nights, I take the tube around town to see last-minute shows for cheap. I see my favorite musical, Wicked for the first time and bawl my eyes out; taking in the surreal experience of giving myself a gift I’ve wanted since I was a kid. As I watch the show, its storyline about the corrupt, bourgeoise government of Oz reminds me of Victor Hugo’s descriptions of France in Les Misérables, and through my experience, so far in seminar, I discover new things about the show I’ve loved for so long. The next day, I visit Camden Town for a concert. I explore the town and geek out over its historical significance to London’s music scene, as I see the streets where one of my favorite artists, Amy Winehouse once lived. At night I go see another artist I love, Yola, perform. I hear her voice soar over the disco-soul and country sounds of her music. Between songs, she tells jokes that involve British politicians I know nothing about, and I feel like a foreigner in a sea of British culture—I love every minute. The day after, I see the musical version of Les Misérables, feeling like an expert on the plot of the show after having read the behemoth of a novel.
In the streets of London, a stone’s through away from our hotel and across from a Korean restaurant is the British Museum—a treasure trove of artifacts from across the world. As I walk through the various rooms of the museum, I see art from ancient Greece next to statues from the Assyrian Empire and get excited when I see Japanese Noh theatre masks, which I learned about in a class at USC. As I look around this museum where admission is free, I see people from all walks of life—lots of tourists and some school groups, but everyone united to revere history. History is alive in this museum, and it lives on through everyone who comes to visit. It certainly lived in me as I saw the content covered over the years of history classes I’ve taken come to life before me.
Image Courtesy of Dennis Severs
In the streets of London, a man wearing a rainbow flag pride pin welcomes me to an artist’s recreation of an 18th-century home, and as I take in the sights and smells that lie within, I see an 80’s home computer tucked in the corner just behind an authentic 18th-century tea set. As I look through the “Dickens Room”, I see in my mind’s eye the characters of our novel A Tale of Two Cities, running through the author’s mind. As I walk the house; I hear the sounds of a fictional family fill the halls, and I imagine what Charles Dickens’ childhood must have sounded like, looked like, and felt like. Suddenly, the people who inhabit A Tale of Two Cities become living breathing humans, as their lives took physical form right in front of me.
Here, it seems the past and the future coexist in a symbiotic way. Somehow, Londoners seem to have not just made peace with their past but celebrate it while still welcoming the future. London is high rises among buildings that date as far back as the 11th century, and Londoners seem to have embraced that peculiar image. As this city changes in various ways, its history stays in the forefront.
As we use A Tale of Two Cities as a travel guide of London, I’m seeing how integral literature is to the fabric of this city. Great English literature informs so much that I’ve seen, from the little Paddington bears in tourist shops to the “poet’s corner” in Westminster Abbey, London loves to honor its cherished literature in tandem with its rich history, and it shows in every corner. As we walked into various streets, we see the name Manette above us, the name of one of the characters in the novel. From something as little as a street sign, we understand that London seeks to honor and celebrate its history and influential figures.
I end my stay in London visiting a childhood friend who moved here when we were ten years old. The last time I visited her, we were kids and I barely remember it, but I do have the photos! I see her home, her neighborhood, and meet some of her friends—getting the local Londoner experience through her eyes. I feel so grateful to have had the opportunity to see her again since the pandemic stopped us from visiting each other. I get a taste of her life for a day and cherish every moment.