Sunshine! (March 8, 2010)

Hello all,
As the title of this epistle may suggest, spring has sprung upon jolly old England during the past week. This has led to my discovery that the window in my room does, indeed, face east, meaning that I get a full barrage of of sunshine in the mornings...at times I almost get too warm. Certainly didn't expect that when I was contemplating this trip, but hey, far be it from me to complain.
I last left off following a day excursion to Haworth. While Skyping with my girlfriend later that evening, she complained of headaches, nausea, and other aches over her body. These symptoms had matured into an unpleasant case of mono by the time we spoke the next day.
My single Monday class was more lively than usual--not because Great Expectations took on some new excitement, but rather because I chose to sit by the window. At one point I heard what sounded like shouting from outside, and looked down upon the street running alongside the academic building and witnessed the final blows of a fight occuring in the street. A man who appeared to be the proprietor of the small take-out place near campus drove his fist into another man's collarbone, while three other bystanders tried to separate the two. The fight broke off, with the man who had been struck shouting some parting remarks at the take-out proprietor before making his way down the street. Within ten minutes, a pair of police officers had appeared on the scene, and I saw them questioning the proprietor, who then took them outside and re-enacted, with one of the bystanders, how the fight had taken place. This questioning continued for perhaps half an hour, throughout which I couldn't help but peek out the window every minute or so. I kind of wish I had witnessed the whole thing, terrible though it sounds.
Tuesday brought my British History/Culture class, as usual. I should explain how this class works: throughout the semester, the class is collaboratively working on creating a "tapestry", as a sort of imitation of the Bayeux Tapestry (although hopefully less biased than it's predecessor). The class has been divided into five groups dedicated to politics, religion, society, science, and art (I am a member of the art group), and each group makes a weekly collaborative presentation on the advances of their topic of interest during the time period we study for that week, with some sort of tangible component to affix to the large sheets of paper that comprise our "tapestry". Our class period on Tuesday was spent reviewing the progress we had made thus far on the tapestry and trying to discern patterns, trends, and other relationships throughout 1700 years of British history we've covered so far.
On Tuesday night I attended small group as usual; the "lads" and I discussed the implications of preserving the purity of the body as God's temple in correlation with the Lord's admonition not to commit adultery.
Wednesday's class on Empires was enjoyable, as the professor just showed a video thab basically gave a synopsis of the big events in Roman history. Wednesday afternoon passed pleasantly as the preceding days had--reading back and forth between Great Expectations (for class) and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (for pleasure), fooling around on the ukelele, contemplating my spring break itinerary, and keeping Karin company as she rested up. On Wednesday evening, I took a bus to the University of York campus (not to be confused with York St. Johns, the university where I'm studying--it's my understanding that YSJ is the party school, and that learning occurs at the University of York) for a performance of some cantatas by Bach. The concert was preceded by a lecture by the Chamber Orchestra conductor; to all appearances, I was the only one in attendance at this lecture under the age of thirty, and I got a good view not only of the lecture, but several balding British heads in the rows ahead of me. The lecture was interesting, although much of it went over my head (which, thankfully, is balding at a much slower rate than those of the other attendees at the lecture)--the conductor expounded on the multiple layers of meaning that Bach wrote into his "Magnificat", managing to communicate different things to listeners with different levels of music education all in the midst of the same piece. He explained how certain sequences or patterns of notes were commonly understood to communicate a specific idea at the time, how Bach either used or contradicted these conventions to draw attention to specific parts of the piece, and even commented that the number of measures or notes in certains segments of the "Magnificat" conveyed a numerological significance. What impressed me the most was his remarks about symbology--if one were to visualize the notation of what he were hearing at a certain point in the piece, the configuration of the notes on the page formed a representation of a crucifix.
The concert itself was pretty good; my only complaint was stomach pains of some sort throughout the first half of the concert (probably due to having eaten my dinner too quickly). During the first half, the orchestra and choir performed Cantatas 110 and 191, and the "Magnificat" (BWV 243) comprised the second half. All three pieces were written for Christmas evensong services throughout Bach's tenure as Director of Music for the churches of Leipzig. The lecturer had also explained that the resources available to Bach in Leipzig allowed him to explore new forms of music he had been studying in recent years and mount his pieces for larger, more capable ensembles. Needless to say, the performance was magnificent.
Our Thursday afternoon literature class had us divided into groups, preparing pitches for certain scenes of Great Expectations as if we were to film the novel. My Grammar and Text class passed by slowly but surely, reprising knowledge that wasn't really new to me, but I feel I will benefit from the review. I attended the Christian Union worship service in the evening--a local youth pastor gave a message, which I don't quite remember. Throughout the service someone was distributing Scandinavian gummy candies the likes of which I had never seen before--they were formed in the shape of basic female figures, just curvaceous enough to elicit a double-take and a subsequent chuckle. I hung around to chat with people and accompanied some of them to hang out in the Student Union for a little bit following the service. Upon my return to my flat, I was thrilled to receive word that my RA application had been approved by Calvin Residence Life, so I am now looking forward to acting as an RA in Schultze-Eldersveld next year.
Friday morning was spent running a couple errands in the city center before returning to the flat, sneaking a nap, and striking out of the final leg of Great Expectations. In the evening, I heated up some frozen vegetables and brought them as my humble contribution to a potluck for all the Calvin students living in my apartment complex. The food was good, since we're lucky enough to boast a couple of competent cooks amongst our ranks. Afterwards, back to the flat for the night.
On Saturday, I boarded a charter bus at 8:30, read a chapter or two of Dickens, napped for about an hour and a half, and found myself in the town of Lincoln, next to a pub with probably the best sign I've ever seen and with the spires of a cathedral towering nearby All the Calvin group then walked to the public library in Lincoln where we viewed a gallery dedicated to Alfred, Lord Tennyson. We enjoyed a private lecture by one of the custodians who gave us a detailed description of the gallery and its significance. Tennyson was quite famous by the time he was appointed poet laureate in 1850, and as a result he was in correspondence with many prominent figures of 19th-century England. After his death, his wife and son painstakingly catalogued and preserved as many of his possessions as they could...that is, as many of his possessions that cast him in a good light; letters that revealed details about his epilepsy and other embarrassing details were collected and destroyed, and Mrs. Tennyson carefully bowdlerized her jounals of any references that could be misinterpreted to be unsavory in any way. As a result of this very self-conscious preservation of initiative, many of Tennyson's personal effects, such as his numerous pipes and a couple articles of clothing, a large body of his correspondence, items associated with his terminal illness and death, and nearly all of his personal library are preserved in good condition. Following the lecture, we were permitted to peruse his library of over 4,000 well-preserved volumes and examine some of his personal documents. I held in my hands an autographed first edition of Through the Looking-Glass, given as a gift from Lewis Carroll to Tennyson, a first edition of On the Origin of the Species, hand-written notes from Prince Albert and Queen Victoria, and early drafts of "The Charge of the Light Brigade" (the latter documents were sheathed in plastic, but nevertheless!). Words can't describe the thrill this gave me.
After the gallery, we were released to wander Lincoln on our own. Inevitably I was drawn to Lincoln cathedral. Earlier we had been told that we would not be permitted to enter the cathedral at all, because none other than the Archbishop of Canterbury was visiting for some special occasion and only ticket holders would be admitted to the cathedral. I wandered around the exterior of the structure, snapping pictures of the architecture (my favorite feature was a carving of the damned writhing in infernal agony and casting desperate glances at a corresponding panel of saints enjoying the empyrean) and listening longingly to the sounds of the choir emanating from within. I made my way to one of the entrances set into the transept, and while loitering there, taking pictures, I struck up a conversation with the man ushering at the entrance. Upon discovering that I was a student studying abroad, he nonchalantly asked me if I wanted to attend the service. My heart leapt; I said I didn't have time to sit through the whole service before I had to rendezvous with the rest of my group, but asked if I could just step inside and get a look at the place. He obliged me, with the condition that I didn't wander into the service--"...otherwise, I'll get in trouble!"--and discreetly let me in the side door. Needless to say, the interior of the cathedral was stunning--the sun was illuminating the stained glass, and the organ echoed through the structure, playing an arrangement that I recognized as the "Gravement" from Bach's "Fantasia in G Major". I took numerous pictures, including one of the Lincoln Imp, a carved figure of a demon that serves as de facto mascot for the town of Lincoln. I thanked my benefactor profusely, and walked around the rest of the cathedral, pausing to allow right-of-way to a procession of white-robed clergy preparing for the ceremony. On the far side of the cathedral I encountered a large bronze statue of Tennyson, morosely contemplating a flower, with a dog waiting faithfully at his side.
I repeated the reading and napping procedure for the return ride to York and spent the rest of the evening finishing up Great Expectations. I began the next day, Sunday, by attending Communion at York Minster (the second separate cathedral I'd entered in as many days, I reflected gleefully); rather than taking place in the choir like the previous two services I had attended at the Minster, this service occurred in the towering nave, or central section, of the cathedral, which I had previously only glimpsed. Like the Lincoln Cathedral, the Minster was illuminated by the sun streaming through the stained glass, and the gorgeous setting, combined with the gorgeous music of the choir, made for a very moving service. Following the service, I got some lunch in town and returned to my flat for an afternoon of reading up on the Roman empire and proofreading a document for my girlfriend. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a phone call from my parents, whose long search for a workable international calling option finally paid off. As soon as I woke up this morning, I received even more warm tidings from back home in the form of a brief video greeting from the guys on my floor at my Calvin dormitory.
That's all for this time. Once again, I hope everything is going well for all you who are reading this. With spring just beginning to reveal herself, I wish the best experience of sunny afternoons, returning flowers, and fun-filled Spring Break adventures to you all. Take care!
Sincerely,
John Morton