Are you an Arian?

 

Thoughts for 'In our Time', with Melvin Bragg.

Theodoric , aged 7 or 8, was was taken to Constantinople as collateral.  His father was a vassal Ostrogoth ruler in Austria. (I read that the only link here is that Austria comes from the word 'Eastern', as does Ostro-.  The Ostrogoth's had moved on before the state of Österreich was created.  Interestingly I also read that the Arabic for Austria is an-Namsā, which comes from the Slavic word for 'Germanic', picked up during the time of the crusades.    

Theodoric was able to mix freely in the court of Constantine, and with the Visigoths of the city.  The Visigoths were Arian, and because of this, were forced to build their churches beyond the city walls.  Later, with the emperor's blessing, Theodoric invaded Ravenna, and became it's vassal ruler.  He introduced Arianism to the city.  

The so called Arian Baptistery in Ravenna

At Christmas time we celebrate the meek vulnerability of the baby Jesus;  Jesus the 'son' of God.  Most Christians acknowledge that Jesus is the Son of God.

Arias said the order goes God>Jesus>Holy Spirit.  Nicaea says God=Jesus=Holy Spirit=God (etc).

 What was Arias' point?  He was trying the square the circle. Surrounded by monotheistic Judaism, and polytheistic pagan greco-roman religion, Arias was emphasising a Unitarian religion, in sync with its Jewish neighbours.  Arias appreciated the clarity offered by the family hierarchy.      

And today, you wouldn't want to make it up.  The Christian story presents a paradox that has been challenged by so many as ridiculous.  An all powerful creator comes as a human baby through a chosen female virgin. Jesus is recorded in the gospels as being the servant of God.  If you read Jesus, you could be excused for thinking that he was an Arian.  I understand Arias.  Jehovah's witnesses are Arians.   

The Roman Arian sympathisers saw the advantage of having an Emperor God, who send his top general out into the wild territories.  A great general sure, but still beholden to the all powerful Emperor.  

I thought of a similar analogy but from the modern age.  What about NASA sending out an astronaut to meet with a strange race on a distant planet?  The astronaut and NASA are one- co-dependent.  Neither is greater than the other.  The astronaut came from NASA, and returns to NASA.  NASA and the astronaut are one.

I also learned along the way:-

Orfilas (or Wulfila)  decided not to translate the two books of Kings into Gothic because they were so violent and apparently supportive of violence.  Orfilas felt that his people were too aggressive and warlike and some books were not helpful.

The Nestorians who fought with Ghegis Khan were Arian, and helmets with crosses can be found in Japanese museums.

The Yuan Stone from the Nestorian Monastery-
Approx 1300 AD, Beijing.

The Classical Reception

Impaling Classical Art by  Bai Yiluo 

My friend's son has just completed a Masters Degree on the 'Classical Reception' at King's College London.  For a few weeks found myself fishing around for the term in my memory, not so much because I needed it, but because I wanted reassurance that I could retrieve it.  I frustrated myself searching for it as I sometime do for my misplaced (and essential for work) phone.   I even contacted my friend to ask him what his son's Master's had been on.  He couldn't remember, remarking that it was 'all Greek to him'.  The issue became more urgent as the days ticked by.   Here was a fascinating concept (examining how subsequent generations across the world, but particularly in Europe, have absorbed, honoured and emulated Greek and Roman ideas, culture and beliefs) just beyond my reach.  

The term briefly appeared in my mind whilst watching the film 'Northangar Abbey', (DVD found in a holiday cottage draw) as we  observed Kathy's reception into polite Georgian society.  I grasped the word, but it was slippery.  A few days latter it was gone.  

I remembered that the word would appear on the King's College website describing the course, and sure enough it was there, now ordinary and rather unglamorous.

I now find it everywhere.  My brother tells me that he will present a lecture in Poland on 'The Reception of M.K. Sarbievius' Poetry in Britain'. 

I am also interested to know more about the Egyptian Reception.  How much of ancient Egyptian culture affects us today?  Peter is also an authority on the Arabic Reception.

It's a useful concept, and that's why I write about it.  I can always return to my blog.

The Classical Reception at King's College London

Prosody

Languages are good for you....so says Sophie Hardach in her book of that title.

How do children going up in multilingual societies differentiate between the tongues?  They use prosody.

Prosody is the sound, rhythm, intonation and song that is shared by languages.  Apparently if English people put on an exaggerated french accent rather that the tradition tortured affair, French people actually get that it is french, and don't say 'is that English?'

Most counties, now, and across time, have been multilingual.  Hardach is very interested in Sumerian, which was taught until AD 100 as an intellectual language, but as Latin is today.  She notes that their are words that many have come from Sumerian into Arkkadian, and on into Aramaic, and Hebrew.  

Apparently King Nebuchadnezzar's name is derived from Sumerian (Nebu- protector) and Arkkadian (kudurri-usur- of the eldest son).   

The word she is most interested in the word Cumin, which she traces back to it's Sumerian origin.

Hardach also celebrates the great wealth of  preserved rubbish in Jewish synagogues over many years.  These repositories, (called the Genizah) were developed to collect any bit of written material that might include the sacred word G_D.  The repositories were designed to periodically 'bury' the material in order to preserve the dignity of G_D's name.  Many synagogues did not have much land available for these burials, and their stashes of rubbish became great over time.  Also over time, the bits of paper slowly became increasingly valuable to historian.  Eventually the synagogue in Alexandria agreed to hand over it's complete collection to Cambridge University for researches to get to work.   The research discovered than many words preserved were in different languages.  Hardach notes that spells and incantations are often in strange languages.  The mystery associated with other peoples languages also meant that the risk of offending G_D was minimised by putting any suspect paper in the Genizah pile.

The Tyranny of the Majority- Disability Politics

 Rebekah Taussig, academic and writer, is challenging me at the moment as I listen to her autobiography entitled 'Sitting Pretty'.

The ranking that occurs in all societies without thought has been shown to be detected by children from the age of three.

Gender, race and sexuality are well known to be affected by rank.   Disability is  an interesting one.  Erin Clark, disabled pole dancer and activist was asked if she would go forward for operations to 'cure' her disabilities, if this were to be offered.  Taussig does not give her reply but I imagine that she would have said 'yes' and 'no'.  Disability involves many hardships, but most are from society.  Most people experience some physical discomfort in daily life, but injustice can be harder to bear..

It can be argued that the advent of cochlea implants the deaf community has a significant 'down side'.  More children are deliberately kept form signing, and often choose to come to signing as teenagers.  As lip readers, they are always on the back foot, except when they in night clubs, where others choose to be disabled for once.

Taussig explains about how her students come to her class with the ingrained concept of disability as a problem, and part of  the 'other'.  They believe in the entitlement of able-bodied people to take centre stage in society.  It reminded me that this is similar to the status given to foreigners who are expected to speak English in the UK (though the rule does not apply the other ways round).  Disabled people should be grateful for everything they get for 'free', and certainly not complain.     

The irony of disability is that most people are likely to experience disability, to a greater or lesser extent.  For the young it's perhaps easier to see that 'beautiful body' equals entitlement to the best at the table.  Defective body means you have missed out, or take the left overs.  Bad luck.  As Taussig points out, disability is seen as failure, sexually, politically and morally (you are not contributing financially to society).  

I am interested in the process needed to recognise and address this perception.  I agree that it is analogous to  institutionalised racism, sexism and homophobia.  It is subconsciously believed by society, and requires illumination.  

An example:

My disabled daughter has just left a rented flat with two other able bodied flat mates.  They were charged £50 each for damages to the flat when they left.  My daughter was charged £150.  When she moved in the landlord said don't worry about scratches on the wall made by your wheelchair.  I wanted to challenge the fee, but my daughter said don't bother.  It's exhausting having to fight and challenge all day long, just let it go.  She saw it as a minor injustice compared to the many others she deals with on a daily basis.

What to see in Northumerland

This is Lindisfarne

Lindisfarne Castle.  Mercifully the best is seen from the outside, because it's like the 'pool of Siloam' to get a  timed ticket round the castle.  It can be argued that Lutyen's reinterpretation of the site greatly improved it.  It was a Tudor fortified stronghold using stolen masonry from the recently dissolved priory.  It now sits as a marooned ocean-going liner, slowly being encased in icy rock.  

 Lindisfarne Fort by Thomas Girtin,1796
Metropolitan Museum, New York.

Girtin's painting is from the seaward side and shows a fire.  I wondered whether this related to the lime kilns that are situated near this spot, but not so.  But the lime kilns were built later, and serviced by a steam train that brought coal for the Northumbrian hinterland.  Lime came from boats traveling up from places such as Staithes.  The site of The kiln on Holy Island was chosen for its rocky  foundation and well protected harbour.  The product could be used on the fields round about to neutralise acid in the peaty soil, but also was well connected with the sea at a time when the seas round Britain were like motorways..  
I can find no reference to whether gaining planning permission to alter the Tudor fort was easily obtained in 1900.  

The Priory.   Perhaps one of the most famous priories in Britain?  Started in 670 AD (approx) by Prior Cuthbert.   Wrecked by King Henry, the Priory also has a number of arches that refuse to fall.  Although most of Holy Island is made of sand, the island also had the bones of the Whin Sill beneath it.  

The Church(es).  St Mary's is an unassuming parish church inline with the Priory, but which came first?  It is interesting that the Priory was not converted into the parish church, as it was in other places.  But the church is older than the Durham inspired abbey church.  Also it's tower lines up nicely with a navigational tower to help guide boats safely into the harbour.  Perhaps it is a church that would never chose to compete with the glories of the now deceased abbey.  It remains humble and steadfast, like it's be-sainted forefathers.  Both the parish church and abbey have walls that splay outwards in an alarming manner.  

(Courtesy of the Financial Times - Their aeroplane)

Buttressed walls

St Cuthbert's Island Behind the church is the small island with the ruins of a hermit's cell.  On the beach we found people collecting 'St Cuthbert's beads'.  These are the fossilised vertebrae of the 'sea lily'. 

Other churches on the Island are St Aiden's RC and St Cuthbert's URC.

The Dunes and Bird hide.  The seals.

If Holy Island is Venice, then the walk to the dunes are the 'deserted backs streets'.  

Marsh Helleborine  
This is a unique species to the island

Can you see a Cinnabar Moth?

Pyramidal Orchid

The Bird Hide

Seal bay on Holy Island

Bamburgh Castle

Alnwick Castle and Gardens

Jo in the Bambouseraie

The Fox Urn. It has a double in Syon Park, the Northumberland's 
home in London.  But this is the better of the two,
placed here to be seen by many more people

Other sites to see are Hulne Park, Howick Hall and Gardens and Barter Books.

Barter Bookshop

The College Valley

Craster and Dunstanburgh Castle

Dunstanburgh from Low Newton Bay

Dunstanburgh Castle

Further a field

Craigside NT

Berwick

Scotland (including The Ladykirk with it's stone ceiling)

Ladykirk

The stone ceiling

30th of July 1966

  

Got a lot to answer for!

 On a recent zoom call, my mother remembered the famous day, when against the odds, the England Football team beat Germany in the World Cup final.  What a day for little old England.  Always unsure of the 'greatness', England found that the concrete twin-towered Wembley Stadium became a blessed space, a place where unadulterated joy could be felt for thousands, emanating out from London, up and across to certain borders, where it abruptly stopped.  It was a moment when all  troubles and disquiet of the heart could legitimately be passed over, and holy spirits imbibed to mark the moment of an euphoric high, followed inevitable by the eventual tumbling down on the other side to a sobering return to reality.  

It was at this point of tumbling down that I was born into the world.

Mother explained how by complete accident, she had been visiting a friend with one of those rare objects, the television set, when the famous goal was scored.  They thought it was all over, but my mother knew instinctively that hers had just begun. 

Sure enough, when on the eve of the 6th of August, my father drove my mother to the maternity ward, they had a premeditation that the infallible security blanket of the NHS was going to let them down.  The double doors were closed shut, and a sign on the door for the hospital Chief executive announced that due to chronic staff shortages, as a consequence of  recent events in the capital, the hospital was temporarily closed.  There was absolutely nothing offered to those presented with the challenges associated with child birth.  

My parents looked at each other, and up to heaven.  The evening was drawing in; the tide of time pulled relentlessly.  My mother felt another contraction.  Then, before them, they saw a light, a star shining brightly.  With nothing else presenting itself, they followed the star.  It seemed to offer hope, and spoke of destiny.  The light led them to a small. rundown garage, open late in the evening.

The kindly mechanic took one look and knew just what was needed.  He washed his hands and pulled out a settee that had once graced the back seat of a Morris sedan.

With great practical skill, I was born into a pool of engine oil. "very similar principle to removing a big end for an engine block" was the story I heard as I grew up, along this the explanation of why I was also christen  'Morris'. 

Song of Songs

 

Henna in Blossom

Young Woman

Kiss me once again with lips that surpass wine,

Your name’s a sweet aroma, a link to the divine.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Better than wine indeed, their joy is made complete,

Young Woman

When all about adore you, but only our eyes meet.

 

Sun burnt unkempt I, yearn to follow you,

Where flocks rest at noon, I sojourn there too.

 

Young Man

Stop doubting and receive that you’re completely loved,

All I have I share with you, our fortunes jointly doved.

 

As pharaoh’s trembling stallion beholds a perfect mare,

I too am mesmerised by tumbling, cascading hair.

 

Young Woman

Sweet bouquets of henna I nestle upon my breast,

Inhale sweet aromas, lay your head and rest.

 

Young Man

As azure drops sparkle are your dazzling eyes,

Young Woman

Soft grass for our bed, cedar beams our skies.

 

A crocus I will be from Sharron’s verdant vale,

Young Man

I choose you as a lily, all else by it doth pale.

 

Young Woman

Under this tree I rest, for your fruit to taste,

One arm ‘neath my neck, other round my waist.

 

Wise women stir passion only when the time is right,

Here my lover approaches, bounding in morning light.

 

‘Let us run’ calls he, ‘winter winds have passed away,

Shoots of the vine appear, hope’s buds here to stay.’

 

Young Man

Come now from hiding, stand tall and boldly speak,

Your shining face I desire, your wondrous presence seek.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Watch for the little foxes! Enter and they’ll ruin the crop,

Young Woman

My lover’s mine and I am his, he bounds hills with a hop.

 

Awake I lay in bed, but my lover didn’t come,

Door to street I searched, in panic began to run.

 

In vain asked all ‘he’d gone without trace?’

Then my lover appeared, we silently embrace.

 

Wise women stir passion only when the time is right,

Women of Jerusalem

What’s this commotion!  A king displays his might?

 

Young Woman

Come and meet my king, crowned for his wedding day,

Young Man

Overawed by your beauty I know not what to say.

 

Mouth, cheek, and slender neck, pair of bouncing fawn…

Through the night I travelled, arriving at break of dawn.

 

You’ve captured my heart, love better that wine,

Enter a scented garden, sup fruit of the vine.

 

Young Woman

Winds blow north and south, fragrance swirls beside,

Young Man

Great treasure, spiritual sister, perfection, my bride.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Lover and beloved see, your joy is made complete!

   

Young Woman

And now to bed alone, my heart remained awake,

At the door a knock? With uncertainty I quake.

 

But I am ashamed, lacking hope to dare,

I go to the door, finding no one is there.

 

Wondered into darkness, into dangerous night,

Terrors attack me, compounding my plight.

 

Wise women seek my lover, tell him I endure.

 

Women of Jerusalem

You so highly esteemed, your lover’s worth this pain?

Young Woman

My lover’s dark and dazzling, no one matches his name.

Women of Jerusalem

Such love to us convinces, agreeing we come to your aide,

Young Woman

But too late I’ve found him, found in a lily-stroon glade.

 

Young Man

So wondrous you are, fine cities can’t compare,

Cheeks aglow, such teeth, flowing, bounding, hair.

 

If sixty, eighty, countless hoards, stood before me now,

I would see but only one, no one else but thou.

 

‘All’ sing your praises, every noble and queen,

Fairer than the moon, than any banner seen.

 

Young Woman

I go to the walnut grove, to glean if spring’s near,

Strong is my desire to find my charioteer.

 

Women of Jerusalem

We know that you will leave us, love must take its chance,

Young Man

All eyes are now upon you, along the line you dance.

This king is transfixed, delight overflows,

Every detail delightful, from Carmel to toes.

 

See the curves of a palm tree, high fruit in a pair,

Wake with wine washed kisses, more to hope than dare.

 

Young Woman

I am my lovers and he is mine,

We inspect the blossom, the fruit of the vine.

 

I can’t help imagining had you been my twin,

Nestled safely together our mother within.

 

Stir up deep passion just as time perfects,

Women of Jerusalem

This love is blessed, streaming light attest.

 

Young Woman

Beneath this tree wake, once born in this place,

Deluges of water cannot love erase.

 

Young Woman’s Brother

Our sister is too young, I’ll wall her in a tower,

She disgraces her family, despoils her flower.

 

Young Woman

Not fair I protest, free me my brother,

This vineyard is mature, and promised to my lover.

 

Young Man

I listen for your voice as we enter the garden,

Young Woman

Let's continue up higher onto the mountain.