Romanian Inspiration

When I worked for Hearst Magazines International, I met editors and art directors from all over the world, and sometimes traveled to see them. A most memorable experience was flying one moonlit Halloween night on an 8-seater prop plane from Sofia, Bulgaria to Bucharest. I’d had a fascination since childhood with Romania, thanks to Nadia Comaneci and one of my favorite books of all time, Bram Stoker’s Dracula. My imagination ran wild as we flew through turbulence on a spooky night on a sketchy plane to an enigmatic destination.

I’d already become friends with the Romanian Esquire editor, Radu Coman, who grew up in Timisoara but moved to Bucharest. After work meetings, he took me around and I grew to love the city’s fascinating mix of architectural styles. The ornate, elegant masterpieces of “Little Paris” (like the Romanian Athenaeum) butted against bleak communist-era hulks.

I explored every Romanian orthodox monastery I could find, each a mysterious, irresistible time capsule. The interiors were stark — no seats — and brooding with thick stone walls, somber slivers of stained-glass, and unsettling portraits of Christ and assorted saints with severe expressions that dared you to look away in the gloom. My favorite was the iconic Stavropoleos Monastery in the bustling Old Town district. The spectacle of a dozen robed congregants chanting in the darkness inspired the opening scene of The Banished.

With Radu I toured the majestic Patriarchal Palace. The landmark orthodox Cathedral, just next door, features a columned entry foyer where floor-to-ceiling murals overwhelm the facade. The Last Judgment by Dimitrie Belisare depicts Lucifer coaxing townspeople toward a hidden crevice where flames consume the doomed. It’s powerful and unsettles Travis, the protagonist, on the first page of my novel.

I took this photo of the Last Judgment by Dimitrie Belisare in the foyer of the Patriarchal Cathedral. To me, the demons seem vampiric.

The Stavropoleos Monastery is a fascinating, and eerie, time capsule. I found it spooky inside, especially if someone’s chanting.