No deposits this year at Love Bank, a fire-hit museum of affection
For romantics who want to show their passion and devotion, the Love Bank in Slovakia has enough space in its Love Vault, where 7,000 people have already deposited their souvenirs and symbols of affection, whether reciprocated or not.
But this Valentine's Day the bank is closed.
The medieval building, once home to the muse of what has been called “the world's longest love poem,” nearly burned down last March — apparently the result of an electrical fault rather than runaway rapture.
But the love turned out to be eternal.
Left intact was the building's underground vault, where couples and aspiring lovers from all over the world have hidden their totems and messages in small Love Boxes. Also undamaged: the text of the 19th century love poem that wraps itself around the walls of the vault like the ivy of infatuation.
The very idea of a tourist attraction built as a guileless ode to love and as a shrine to a Slovak poem may seem at first glance to defy rhyme and reason. But since the Love bank opened five years ago, tens of thousands of people have come to see it Banska Stiavnica to reaffirm their devotion in this picaresque town, founded in the 13th century and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The original 1846 manuscript for the poem, completed by Andrej Sladkovic after his love, Marina Pischlova, married someone else, is in the Slovak National Library in Martin. But a facsimile of the work, certified by the World Record Academy as the world's longest love poem, can be seen in the building where Marina once lived.
'Marina', as the poem is known, consists of 291 stanzas and 2900 verses. Try fitting that on a Hallmark card. (Other odes claim to be the oldest, and the epic 'Manas', with 500,000 lines, about the exploits of a Kyrgyz family from Central Asia, appears to be the longest.)
The most famous passage from the poem is:
I can abstain from your lips,
I may not get your hand,
I can run far away in sorrow,
I can become unkind,
My lips may die of thirst,
Perhaps I mourn in loneliness,
I can hold life captive in deserts,
I may not be living in my life,
I can even destroy myself:
but I'm incapable of not loving you! —
While Verona in Italy lures tourists to the balcony from where Shakespeare's fictional Juliet courted Romeo, Banska Stiavnica lures lovers to the house on Holy Trinity Square where Marina once lived with her family.
Andrej came from bad circumstances. He had to interrupt his education several times to support himself. During one of those intervals he was hired as a teacher by the Pischlova family, one of the wealthiest in the city. Then he met his muse, their daughter Marina.
They fell in love when they were only 14. But if Andrej, as he wrote, was incapable of not loving her, he was also incapable of becoming her husband.
While he was writing or working elsewhere, Marina's parents arranged her marriage to a wealthy gingerbread maker. It took Andrej two years to complete his poem, too late to win her hand.
The year after she married, Andrej became engaged to a clerk's daughter; he later married her and became a Lutheran priest.
“There are two kinds of people,” Andrej, who was not inclined to understatement, wrote to Marina in 1846. 'Those who haven't been to Stiavnica yet, and those who have already fallen in love with it forever. Just like I did with you, Marina.'
The city with approximately 10,000 inhabitants emerged from the huge caldera formed by a collapsed extinct volcano and located in a remote area of central Slovakia, about two hours north of Budapest. Beyond the Love Bank, the city offers other romantic interludes: ancient churches and castles; a 16th-century mine where jewelry – gold and silver – was once mined; and remote forests.
Love Bank founders Igor Brossmann and Jan Majsniar, political consultants and partners in a local PR firm, were inspired one evening in 2014 as they walked past Marina's grave in the city's Evangelical Cemetery.
“While we were talking, we noticed that such a romantic city paid little attention to the love story,” Majsniar said.
“Everything we do,” Brossmann added, “is because we wish there was more love in the world. We think that love is the universal answer to the hatred that abounds.”
Using Marina's former home as a base, they transformed the abandoned 500-year-old gold mine below into the Love Vault, with 100,000 small, rentable boxes, suitable for love tokens, such as photos, a ring, a letter, ticket stubs. from a first date, even a flash drive with video of a wedding.
Each box contains a letter, punctuation mark or space from the poem and can be rented for a year at a time (for 50 euros, about $54), or forever (€100).
In 2021, the Love Bank, a non-profit organization that aims to promote the city's economic development, was nominated for the European Museum of the Year Award, presented annually by the Council of Europe.
Now the Love Bank and the Old City, hoping to recover from the fire, are looking for benefactors.
“It really struck us that the devastating fire, which damaged the historic center of our city, occurred in the year in which we celebrate the 30th anniversary of its inscription on the UNESCO World Heritage List,” said Mayor Nadezda Babiakova. “Fortunately, the renovation is going at full speed. Within two years, the historic center will be beautiful again.”
The restoration will begin this month, supported by some government funding. But the foundation that operates the Love Bank museum and exhibition and vault also solicits private, corporate and philanthropic contributions.
The house is expected to be rebuilt by the end of 2025. If donors can be found, the Love Bank could reopen in time for Valentine's Day 2027.
For those staring at the long road ahead, Andrej's poem is a testament to the power of love and memory to survive even after Marina left him:
My dear Marina! So we are/ like the divine flames,/ like those flowers in cold ground,/ like the precious stones;/ the stars fall, we too will fall,/ the flowers wither, and so we will wither,/ and jewels are covered with earth :/ But those stars really shone,/ and the flowers had a beautiful life,/ and the diamond won't rot in the ground!'
Not such a spicy tip for perseverance as 'The Dude abides'. But maybe love means never having to have a copy editor.