There is probably no doubt, that black thread of mourning deeply penetrates the tissue of Polish life. And this is true for many areas of life. From a specific model of Polish Catholicism (with the strongly expressed theme of a crucified Christ), through behaviour in the public space (funerals of great artists and politicians, which become spectacles of patriotism), through to works of art (theatres filled with spirits of the dead and great movie achievements). For the past two centuries death has been a non-negotiable element of our symbolic equipment, an ideological foundation of the Polish collective imagination. Death in its essence – experienced, shown, played – has occupied a prime position in Polish mythology over the last two centuries. And such mythology, as I understand it here, is not just fiction, falsehood or fabrication. Although it has been woven with beliefs and ideas, it leads a real life of its own and has real power over the thinking and behaviour of those who believe in it.
 

There is probably no doubt, that black thread of mourning deeply penetrates the tissue of Polish life. And this is true for many areas of life. From a specific model of Polish Catholicism (with the strongly expressed theme of a crucified Christ), through behaviour in the public space (funerals of great artists and politicians, which become spectacles of patriotism), through to works of art (theatres filled with spirits of the dead and great movie achievements). For the past two centuries death has been a non-negotiable element of our symbolic equipment, an ideological foundation of the Polish collective imagination. Death in its essence – experienced, shown, played – has occupied a prime position in Polish mythology over the last two centuries. And such mythology, as I understand it here, is not just fiction, falsehood or fabrication. Although it has been woven with beliefs and ideas, it leads a real life of its own and has real power over the thinking and behaviour of those who believe in it.