‘November Is a Dangerous Time for Poland?’

This question has become a phrase in its own right within Polish culture, leading a rich and independent life beyond journalistic writing. It is asked by Grand Duke Constantine in Wyspiański’s play ‘November Night’. He hears the secret agent Makrot reply: ‘(…) Yes, it is November now—so my ears are keen. It is the time when spirits walk among the living—and together become as brothers.’ 

As is customary in Poland, literature explains the events of everyday life. Today’s secret agents evidently share that belief. It is otherwise difficult to explain why the speed cameras along the route of the Warsaw march on Independence Day were carefully wrapped in black plastic. Let us take this as an encouraging sign. Contrary to popular opinion, the machinery of the state has certain inviolable limits; it knows that it is dangerous to surprise spirits cavorting with the law—on the right or the left?—with a photograph. Once the cameras are unwrapped and the paving stones returned to Dmowski Roundabout, all that will remain is to await higher traffic fines, while fear of November nights gives way to fear of losing one’s driving licence.