We have been to both Westminster and Bath Abbeys in the last 3 days. They are magnificent structures, full of stone details as fine as if milk froth were made solid. They provoked in me, however, mainly confusion and sadness.
Both places are filled with tombs. More than 3,000 people are buried in Westminster Abbey. The tombs are a bigger source of tourist interest than is the building or its sacred functions. It is an odd mix of sanctuary and cemetery, and felt far more like the latter than the former.
Besides the magnificence of the building, there are some equally elaborate tombs. I was interested in what people chose to memorialize about themselves. Many naval officers have cannon, anchors and other seafaring items on their tombs. Knights and Kings are largely represented in armor. These are largely works of ego, post mortem bragging. These things were not done of course by the people themselves. The choice of tomb is by the family, or the State, or the Abbey. The arbiter of who is buried in Westminster Abbey is not the Monarch or Parliament. It is, all and only, the Dean of the Abbey. He has sole and complete discretion. It is a reflection on national and Dean values that soldiers have stupendous mausoleums while poets have simple stones in the floor.
More touching to me were the tombs without elaborate stonework but rather testimonials to the dead one's character. These serve as obituaries in stone, the only lasting memory of the nature of these individuals. Most touching of all is a tomb in Bath Abbey. It was built by a man for his wife, who predeceased him by about 20 years, and himself. It shows her recumbent, with one hand partially stretched out, and next to her is her husband, lying on his side, his hand reaching for hers. On his face is a tender half smile. The testimonial to his wife bears out the evident love in the statues. There is no testimonial to the man; he is not buried there. In one of the many terrible twists of life, he ended up buried far from the wife he clearly loved so much. I am reminded of Leonidas' poem 'On the Emptiness of the Tomb'- But no one lies here, and no one mourns here, but the stone'. This magnificent stone testimony to love is all but hidden behind stored chairs.
These buildings, and their tombs, remind me that life is so short. These magnificent temples and graves are nothing but mandalas of stone. They are made of nothing but sand, compressed and heated over time admittedly, but sand nonetheless, and one day they will lie as ruins for another civilization to find and wonder at. When the pyramids at Giza were the age of Westminster Abbey, it was 1600 BC. Our civilization will end one day too. I hope people will find a better way to live and celebrate life than to build giant memorials to their own works and egos.
Both places are filled with tombs. More than 3,000 people are buried in Westminster Abbey. The tombs are a bigger source of tourist interest than is the building or its sacred functions. It is an odd mix of sanctuary and cemetery, and felt far more like the latter than the former.
Besides the magnificence of the building, there are some equally elaborate tombs. I was interested in what people chose to memorialize about themselves. Many naval officers have cannon, anchors and other seafaring items on their tombs. Knights and Kings are largely represented in armor. These are largely works of ego, post mortem bragging. These things were not done of course by the people themselves. The choice of tomb is by the family, or the State, or the Abbey. The arbiter of who is buried in Westminster Abbey is not the Monarch or Parliament. It is, all and only, the Dean of the Abbey. He has sole and complete discretion. It is a reflection on national and Dean values that soldiers have stupendous mausoleums while poets have simple stones in the floor.
More touching to me were the tombs without elaborate stonework but rather testimonials to the dead one's character. These serve as obituaries in stone, the only lasting memory of the nature of these individuals. Most touching of all is a tomb in Bath Abbey. It was built by a man for his wife, who predeceased him by about 20 years, and himself. It shows her recumbent, with one hand partially stretched out, and next to her is her husband, lying on his side, his hand reaching for hers. On his face is a tender half smile. The testimonial to his wife bears out the evident love in the statues. There is no testimonial to the man; he is not buried there. In one of the many terrible twists of life, he ended up buried far from the wife he clearly loved so much. I am reminded of Leonidas' poem 'On the Emptiness of the Tomb'- But no one lies here, and no one mourns here, but the stone'. This magnificent stone testimony to love is all but hidden behind stored chairs.
These buildings, and their tombs, remind me that life is so short. These magnificent temples and graves are nothing but mandalas of stone. They are made of nothing but sand, compressed and heated over time admittedly, but sand nonetheless, and one day they will lie as ruins for another civilization to find and wonder at. When the pyramids at Giza were the age of Westminster Abbey, it was 1600 BC. Our civilization will end one day too. I hope people will find a better way to live and celebrate life than to build giant memorials to their own works and egos.
Comments
Post a Comment