Limbo

I went to the bank today to deposit some checks. I don't like their drive-through, so I went inside and stood in line, waiting for a teller. While looking around I was struck by the blandness and featurelessness of the decor. It's the kind of generic public space that is more and more common today: a dropped ceiling with fluorescent lights, gray walls, beige carpeting, dull blue Formica counters and gray chairs. Except for the steel vault door, there was nothing there that said "this is a bank." It might just as well have been rather upscale post office or a very tasteful car-rental agency.

There was an interesting article in The Atlantic Monthly recently that argued that this type of generic interior "anyplace" is the modern equivalent of a medieval concept: limbo. The dictionary defines limbo as "a region or condition of oblivion or neglect" or "the abode of souls kept from Heaven." That's how I felt standing in line--not like I was in Hell, but certainly not like I was in Heaven. Half a century ago, there would at least have been plenty to look at: the tellers would have stood behind fancy grillwork, and there would have been lots of marble and maybe Roman columns to give the bank an air of solidity and a sense of place. Now it's just cheap sheetrock, wall-to-wall beige and bullet-proof (I assume) Pexiglas. Oh, and lots of Orwellian video cameras watching everyone and everything. Souless. A limbo.

You might think the design of this blog is pretty bland and generic, too. But that's intentional: I don't want it to distract from the writing (now doesn't that sound pretentious). It's the frame, not the picture, to use an art metaphor.

Oh, and speaking of limbo--I have jury duty starting tomorrow. Or is that more like purgatory?