Comments on: Who was Monica Lovinescu?

By: Why Does Monica Lovinescu Matter? « Memorie, libertate, moderaţie

Why Does Monica Lovinescu Matter? « Memorie, libertate, moderaţie — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 21:53:52 +0000

[...] And a reaction from

By: Admirante

Admirante — Tue, 06 May 2008 01:16:11 +0000

Lovinescu,
Is easy ’cause you’re beautiful …

(Indeed, what a beautiful and brave soul.)

Thank you for so graciously bringing her to our attention, Mr. Kimball. Long love her memory.

By: Cristina

Cristina — Sun, 04 May 2008 00:11:48 +0000

erratum: “divided”

By: Cristina

Cristina — Sat, 03 May 2008 22:33:24 +0000

One more thought for all the communists and Castro/Stalin/Kim Jog Il fans out there:

You morons, Monica’s mother, Ecaterina, was imprisoned on trumped-up charges, so common in commie countries, of “collabaorating with foreign powers”, was tortured in prison, was offered amnesty if she could convince Monica to return to commie Romania from France, where she had become an outspoken critic of communism. Mother refused. She died in prison. She was in her 70s. She was thrown, nazi/commie style, in a common grave.
The prosecutor who “managed” Ecaterina’s case moved into her and Monica’s apartment after Ecaterina’s death (nice, on a major Bucharest boulevard) where he apparently still lives in his secure old age, huge pension from the former commies.

I truly wonder how Monica Lovinescu managed to keep her sanity through all of this, plus Ceausescu’s attempt to shut her up with the help of a bunch of PLO (Palestinian Liberation Army)thugs in the seventies that nearly killed her.
Yet she couldn’t be silenced.

She loved music. She and Virgil couldn’t go through a day without their Mozart and Brahms and Beethoven. They devided their waking hours between work and music.

By: Cristina

Cristina — Sat, 03 May 2008 21:30:37 +0000

Thanks, Roger, for this post about Monica.
As a Romanian refugee from Ceausescu’s upside-down, Orwellian world, in which the Party proclaimed it was warm and cozy when it was freezing and people were dying from lack of everything, Monica and her husband, Virgil Ierunca, kept us sane on the radio by reaffirming what we knew to be the truth and by bringing light into the murky waters of literature and society in Romania under the rule of the sacred Communist Party.
Both of them were immensely literate and insightful, of modest means, though both could have pursued careers that would have been much more lucrative than working for Radio Free Europe. They were fierce and uncompromising to the end, though the neo-communists and oligarchs issued from the ranks of Ceausescu’s Securitate sang their siren songs to them after December ’89 in an effort to have them give their blessing to the scam of the “Revolution”.

It’s a sad and pathetic testimony to the Left’s guilty silence about the horrors of communism and totalitarianism that a friend of mine asked me yesterday, upon reading the news, “Who was Monica Lovinescu, and why haven’t I heard about her until now?”
He’s in love with celebrities of any kind, but he also has a sense of value and justice. Brittney Spears no, Monica Lovinescu yes.