Stanley Spencer
So the boiler broke. Bad week, as some of these girls haven't showered for four days (reasons unknown. Our bathroom is beginning to smell like a toxic orchard...). The water is icy cold. I stood in the shower in my sweatshirt and basketball shorts to wash my hair under the jet of Arctic and had a minor headache all morning.
The weather could not have been more glorious had we imagined it--or so we thought, as we optimistically left our coats on the coach to wait outside Sandham Chapel. The wind hit us full in the face and let us know that autumn had arrived--but a fall in the north is like nothing we'd ever experienced. Nikki complained that she looked homeless, but we were all jealous of her thermals and beanie (like a short Kurt Cobain, who I don't think was homeless) as we shivered and hopped around to stay warm.
The chapel itself is tiny, though the ceilings are high. Two rows of wooden chairs lined the walls, and a white altar and silver crucifix stood at the head, underneath the Resurrection scene. It was so beautiful to see it up close--the three walls within, from ceiling to floor, were covered in murals from the first World War, all painted by Stanley Spencer. His figures are round and scenes softly realistic. After so much Otto Dix (famous for grotesque war portrayals) there were no trenches on the walls, no blood, no battles, no dead...Spencer depicted men getting ready for bed in the bunk, men eating jam and bread in the hospital, men camping out before an ambush, filling their waterbottles, doing laundry. They were holy in being neither pro-war nor anti-war, simply celebrating men uniting through a tough situation (the understatement of the century).
The Resurrection depicts dead soldiers climbing out of the ground, picking up the white crosses that marked their graves, and giving them to Christ (a small, seated figure near the top) like they would turn in rifles at the end of the war. There are men shaking hands with dead friends, mules standing up to walk again, soldiers caressing their restored limbs. Spencer apparently was not invited to the dedication of this chapel because he painted animals into the resurrection. I wondered about that, and didn't know if the Church had a stance on that. I think we believe every creature will be restored just fine...at least, it makes the most sense.
Chawton House
We drove another hour to Chawton and the home of Jane Austen--not her childhood home, but the home of her most productive years. ("Look, letter magnets," said Ben. "...'Beiber is God'...")The garden was lovely; I made friends with a black housecat out in the sun, by the laurels. The house was like Beatrix Potter's, where we all were encouraged to snoop as much as we liked. Several girls sat at the piano and played (it was dated from 1810), dug through the drawers and cabinets, admired the costume dresses in every room, and followed illustrations from Pride and Prejudice on the landing upstairs. People are so surprised to see the tiny tent beds shared by two people, but it makes complete sense as heat was a problem. We saw letters and drafts of her novels preserved in glass, silk slippers and gloves, powderboxes, china, handwritten music books...the stewards were enthused to tell us anything and everything about the place. I wondered about Jane's reasons for declining her one proposal, made when she was 27.
Everyone (minus Ben and Andrew) confessed to a favorite book/character/movie, especially in the gift shop. I LOVE the version of Persuasion Penny Bird hates, so I'm resigned to the fact that we might have to forego it altogether. I don't understand why the hate! I'm a pretty well-versed individual as far as films are concerned (more than Penny, anyway), and I thought the spirit of the book is really conveyed well in the movie. Sheesh. And the love-affair with the five hour version...I can't stand anyone except the leads, which makes every episode one heckuva pain to get through. One question I have is why all parents in Austen's novels are negligent, idiots, jerks, tyrants or just bad parents. It's like watching Disney channel. Were her parents that way? Can't heroines come from good houses?
Not Another Cathedral
Salisbury Cathedral is number nine in this parade of antiquity...at least, I think it's nine. It's the tallest tower (404 feet, and leaning), the largest cloisters, the largest close, houses a lot of modern art (controversy, naturally), and is home to one of four original Magna Cartas. The chapter house has this stone frieze featuring the major Biblical stories from the Creation to Moses in the wilderness, using stone figures that are utterly charming. The Magna lies under bulletproof glass, rather like the Declaration, except this yellow parchment is nearly 800 years old. The writing was beautiful and I kept looking up at the translation...the principles of Rule of Law to govern really paved the way for America's Constitution and a lot of other countries' freedom.
The modern art found its way in gorgeous stained glass, the high altar, sculptures, and my favorite was the font, which looks like a bronze bowl with four pinched corners where water spilled over...very reminiscent of the reflection pool on Temple Square, but apparently the congregation has had some angry people. Whatever, I think as people we worship a bit differently than the people from hundreds of years ago and our sacred spaces should reflect that. The font looked like a cross, after all. Not traditional, but didn't tradition cause a lot of problems in the first place?
Prehistoric Rocks
More freezing wind, but the weather is better than the desktop picture. Everyone was amazed at how small Stonehenge is. Right off the road, on a grassy hill like some shepherd's cottage. No point in having a tour guide here, as we don't know where Stonhenge came from, when it was constructed, who constructed it or why. Aliens, I suppose. Apparently they dug up some bones they identified as being from Switzerland (how could they possibly know that?) suggesting that Stonehenge was once a place of pilgrimage. The trouble is, we can't get close to it because of some accident some years ago.
So we girls do what we do best: Jumping Pictures. Dr. Seely was a riot--he got in every group and jumped with the rest of us. Penny declared that she doesn't understand jumping pictures, but Emily replied, "Stonehenge is way more exciting when you're in the air." The grassy hills went on forever, dotted with sheep who couldn't have cared less that we were there. We did the best we could in the frigid wind, smiling into the sun. It's one of those spots that really brings home the fact that you're in England, you know what I mean?
This Coach is Bigger Than You
Ted booked it back into London, shaving some thirty minutes with his smooth maneuvering. I can't imagine bus drivers go one day without just wanting to flatten some gormless hatchback or pedestrian. We made it back so early it was light enough for four of us to get Tuk Tuk. Urggh, so full of coconut chicken...next five-pound night, I'm sticking with Nando's.
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