York In One Day
Before I forget -- cause I do keep forgetting -- is Proust really as hilarious as I think he is? I ask cause I know NOTHING about early 20th century French literature. All I know is that In Search of Lost Time has me laughing out loud. I can't hardly read it on the train, especially not in England, where everybody's so well behaved. Well, except for the yobs.
Oh, that Proust. What a hoot. The book's full of people jostling around the social ladder, trying to climb up, trying to push people off -- constantly misunderstanding each other. And Our Narrator is right in there with the worst of them. He's spent all the time I've been reading so far trying to figure out what he's supposed to do at dinner and what he's supposed to say to whom, and naturally whatever he learns in one place is useless in another --
Anyway. I'm enjoying it. Now, where was I.
Oh! I remember. I was going to stay in York, but I was so exhausted at the end of my one and only day there I was too tired to find a flat to rent, so I came away instead.
Let's see -- what did I do...
I walked the route of the Cycle plays, first, as that was the most important thing I did. I've got more to say about staging in York the next time I teach the medieval drama class. This alone makes the trip to York a business expense. (I'm pretty sure about this.)
I went to the Jorvik (i.e., "YOR-wick," that is, York, in Viking; they're the ones who named the city) Viking museum, and I give it high marks, both as a tourist stop and an archeological museum which children will enjoy. If you've been walking around for a while (see above activity), there's not much that'll beat sitting in a little cart being carted around the fake streets of Jorvik. I was especially happy with the smells -- they've gone to great trouble to reproduce the smells of an early medieval town. Oh, frabjous day! Apparently a lot of visitors don't like that part, but I did. Then you get to observe the museum displays, including a Very Interesting Skeleton which used to belong to some guy who fell in battle and got hacked a LOT with swords whilst he lay dying -- the imprint of the chainmail is in his bones. (Nota Bene: I do NOT approve of hacking people with swords! Ever! I only liked the skeleton because it was a scientific display! Sam, you and the child would have LOVED it.)
Then I went to the Minster -- that took up a few hours. I was wrong, earlier. It's not the largest medieval church in England. It's the largest medieval church in Northern Europe. You can't take it all in your head. I was quite and very happy. I'd still be there if I hadn't needed my lunch (see earlier discussions of walking around). It's in incredibly good shape. Of course, I do all my research in Cromwell country, so I'm used to medieval churches with all the faces hacked off the statues, and no medieval glass left, cause, you know, they were very serious in that piece of the country about making sure that the people weren't seduced into idolatry by looking at images.
So it was a treat to be someplace where the statues had their heads and the glass was old.
Then, I went by the home of St. Margaret Clitherow -- she was a butcher's wife who became a Catholic when she wasn't supposed to, would NOT stop helping priests and hiding them and what not, got arrested several times, and was finally executed by being pressed to death. Her home is a shrine now.
Then I walked to the castle, even though I didn't go through the museum, because I wanted to visit the site of the worst of the Jewish massacres in England -- that was in 1190. The Jews of York, in an attempt to escape a mob (there were several massacres at that time, across England), had gone to the castle to have sanctuary -- which by law they were owed -- but the mob besieged the castle; the Jews of York held it for some days, but finally were clearly going to lose (siege machines were being brought in), and they killed themselves, and the tower burnt down around them. Those left alive were murdered.
There is currently a campaign against the proposal to build a shopping mall nearby -- information about that campaign is here. They're not proposing to destroy the site itself, but they ARE proposing to make it less visible. They shouldn't. The tower that's there now is a prominent landmark; it needs to remain prominent.
(Even people who know medieval English history don't always know much about the history of the Jews in England. Often my students are surprised to learn that the Jews were exiled from England in 1290, and not let back in, officially, until the Protectorate, under Cromwell. This would be The Only Thing Cromwell Did That I'm Happy With. Not that I'm in favor of the royalty, mind you. I'm happy with the increased power of Parliament! I just hate Cromwell.)
And then I walked back to the hotel.
The concierge told me that he came to York on a one-day visit, years ago, and never left. I believe it.
But now I am in London, and tomorrow I'm going down to Gatwick, and then I'm coming home.
We will now resume our regular broadcasting.
Oh, that Proust. What a hoot. The book's full of people jostling around the social ladder, trying to climb up, trying to push people off -- constantly misunderstanding each other. And Our Narrator is right in there with the worst of them. He's spent all the time I've been reading so far trying to figure out what he's supposed to do at dinner and what he's supposed to say to whom, and naturally whatever he learns in one place is useless in another --
Anyway. I'm enjoying it. Now, where was I.
Oh! I remember. I was going to stay in York, but I was so exhausted at the end of my one and only day there I was too tired to find a flat to rent, so I came away instead.
Let's see -- what did I do...
I walked the route of the Cycle plays, first, as that was the most important thing I did. I've got more to say about staging in York the next time I teach the medieval drama class. This alone makes the trip to York a business expense. (I'm pretty sure about this.)
I went to the Jorvik (i.e., "YOR-wick," that is, York, in Viking; they're the ones who named the city) Viking museum, and I give it high marks, both as a tourist stop and an archeological museum which children will enjoy. If you've been walking around for a while (see above activity), there's not much that'll beat sitting in a little cart being carted around the fake streets of Jorvik. I was especially happy with the smells -- they've gone to great trouble to reproduce the smells of an early medieval town. Oh, frabjous day! Apparently a lot of visitors don't like that part, but I did. Then you get to observe the museum displays, including a Very Interesting Skeleton which used to belong to some guy who fell in battle and got hacked a LOT with swords whilst he lay dying -- the imprint of the chainmail is in his bones. (Nota Bene: I do NOT approve of hacking people with swords! Ever! I only liked the skeleton because it was a scientific display! Sam, you and the child would have LOVED it.)
Then I went to the Minster -- that took up a few hours. I was wrong, earlier. It's not the largest medieval church in England. It's the largest medieval church in Northern Europe. You can't take it all in your head. I was quite and very happy. I'd still be there if I hadn't needed my lunch (see earlier discussions of walking around). It's in incredibly good shape. Of course, I do all my research in Cromwell country, so I'm used to medieval churches with all the faces hacked off the statues, and no medieval glass left, cause, you know, they were very serious in that piece of the country about making sure that the people weren't seduced into idolatry by looking at images.
So it was a treat to be someplace where the statues had their heads and the glass was old.
Then, I went by the home of St. Margaret Clitherow -- she was a butcher's wife who became a Catholic when she wasn't supposed to, would NOT stop helping priests and hiding them and what not, got arrested several times, and was finally executed by being pressed to death. Her home is a shrine now.
Then I walked to the castle, even though I didn't go through the museum, because I wanted to visit the site of the worst of the Jewish massacres in England -- that was in 1190. The Jews of York, in an attempt to escape a mob (there were several massacres at that time, across England), had gone to the castle to have sanctuary -- which by law they were owed -- but the mob besieged the castle; the Jews of York held it for some days, but finally were clearly going to lose (siege machines were being brought in), and they killed themselves, and the tower burnt down around them. Those left alive were murdered.
There is currently a campaign against the proposal to build a shopping mall nearby -- information about that campaign is here. They're not proposing to destroy the site itself, but they ARE proposing to make it less visible. They shouldn't. The tower that's there now is a prominent landmark; it needs to remain prominent.
(Even people who know medieval English history don't always know much about the history of the Jews in England. Often my students are surprised to learn that the Jews were exiled from England in 1290, and not let back in, officially, until the Protectorate, under Cromwell. This would be The Only Thing Cromwell Did That I'm Happy With. Not that I'm in favor of the royalty, mind you. I'm happy with the increased power of Parliament! I just hate Cromwell.)
And then I walked back to the hotel.
The concierge told me that he came to York on a one-day visit, years ago, and never left. I believe it.
But now I am in London, and tomorrow I'm going down to Gatwick, and then I'm coming home.
We will now resume our regular broadcasting.
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