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the spirit of place and other essays-第1章

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The Spirit of Place and Other Essays



by Alice Meynell







Contents:



The Spirit of Place

Mrs。 Dingley

Solitude

The Lady of the Lyrics

July

Wells

The Foot

Have Patience; Little Saint

The Ladies of the Idyll

A Derivation

A Counterchange

Rain

Letters of Marceline Valmore

The Hours of Sleep

The Horizon

Habits and Consciousness

Shadows







THE SPIRIT OF PLACE







With mimicry; with praises; with echoes; or with answers; the poets

have all but outsung the bells。  The inarticulate bell has found too

much interpretation; too many rhymes professing to close with her

inaccessible utterance; and to agree with her remote tongue。  The

bell; like the bird; is a musician pestered with literature。



To the bell; moreover; men do actual violence。  You cannot shake

together a nightingale's notes; or strike or drive them into haste;

nor can you make a lark toll for you with intervals to suit your

turn; whereas wedding…bells are compelled to seem gay by mere

movement and hustling。  I have known some grim bells; with not a

single joyous note in the whole peal; so forced to hurry for a human

festival; with their harshness made light of; as though the Bishop

of Hereford had again been forced to dance in his boots by a merry

highwayman。



The clock is an inexorable but less arbitrary player than the

bellringer; and the chimes await their appointed time to flywild

prisonersby twos or threes; or in greater companies。  Fugitives

one or twelve taking wingthey are sudden; they are brief; they are

gone; they are delivered from the close hands of this actual

present。  Not in vain is the sudden upper door opened against the

sky; they are away; hours of the past。



Of all unfamiliar bells; those which seem to hold the memory most

surely after but one hearing are bells of an unseen cathedral of

France when one has arrived by night; they are no more to be

forgotten than the bells in 〃Parsifal。〃  They mingle with the sound

of feet in unknown streets; they are the voices of an unknown tower;

they are loud in their own language。  The spirit of place; which is

to be seen in the shapes of the fields and the manner of the crops;

to be felt in a prevalent wind; breathed in the breath of the earth;

overheard in a far street…cry or in the tinkle of some black…smith;

calls out and peals in the cathedral bells。  It speaks its local

tongue remotely; steadfastly; largely; clamorously; loudly; and

greatly by these voices; you hear the sound in its dignity; and you

know how familiar; how childlike; how lifelong it is in the ears of

the people。  The bells are strange; and you know how homely they

must be。  Their utterances are; as it were; the classics of a

dialect。



Spirit of place!  It is for this we travel; to surprise its

subtlety; and where it is a strong and dominant angel; that place;

seen once; abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents;

its habits; its breath; its name。  It is recalled all a lifetime;

having been perceived a week; and is not scattered but abides; one

living body of remembrance。  The untravelled spirit of placenot to

be pursued; for it never flies; but always to be discovered; never

absent; without variationlurks in the by…ways and rules over the

towers; indestructible; an indescribable unity。  It awaits us always

in its ancient and eager freshness。  It is sweet and nimble within

its immemorial boundaries; but it never crosses them。  Long white

roads outside have mere suggestions of it and prophecies; they give

promise not of its coming; for it abides; but of a new and singular

and unforeseen goal for our present pilgrimage; and of an intimacy

to be made。  Was ever journey too hard or too long that had to pay

such a visit?  And if by good fortune it is a child who is the

pilgrim; the spirit of place gives him a peculiar welcome; for

antiquity and the conceiver of antiquity (who is only a child) know

one another; nor is there a more delicate perceiver of locality than

a child。  He is well used to words and voices that he does not

understand; and this is a condition of his simplicity; and when

those unknown words are bells; loud in the night; they are to him as

homely and as old as lullabies。



If; especially in England; we make rough and reluctant bells go in

gay measures; when we whip them to run down the scale to ring in a

weddingbells that would step to quite another and a less agile

march with a better gracethere are belfries that hold far sweeter

companies。  If there is no music within Italian churches; there is a

most curious local immemorial music in many a campanile on the

heights。  Their way is for the ringers to play a tune on the

festivals; and the tunes are not hymn tunes or popular melodies; but

proper bell…tunes; made for bells。  Doubtless they were made in

times better versed than ours in the sub…divisions of the arts; and

better able to understand the strength that lies ready in the mere

little submission to the means of a little art; and to the limits

nay; the very embarrassmentsof those means。  If it were but

possible to give here a real bell…tunewhich cannot be; for those

melodies are rather longthe reader would understand how some

village musician of the past used his narrow means as a composer for

the bells; with what freshness; completeness; significance; fancy;

and what effect of liberty。



These hamlet…bells are the sweetest; as to their own voices; in the

world。  Then I speak of their antiquity I use the word relatively。

The belfries are no older than the sixteenth or seventeenth century;

the time when Italy seems to have been generally rebuilt。  But;

needless to say; this is antiquity for music; especially in Italy。

At that time they must have had foundries for bells of tender

voices; and pure; warm; light; and golden throats; precisely tuned。

The hounds of Theseus had not a more just scale; tuned in a peal;

than a North Italian belfry holds in leash。  But it does not send

them out in a mere scale; it touches them in the order of the game

of a charming melody。  Of all cheerful sounds made by man this is by

far the most light…hearted。  You do not hear it from the great

churches。  Giotto's coloured tower in Florence; that carries the

bells for Santa Maria del Fiore and Brunelleschi's silent dome; does

not ring more than four contralto notes; tuned with sweetness;

depth; and dignity; and swinging one musical phrase which softly

fills the country。



The village belfry it is that grows so fantastic and has such nimble

bells。  Obviously it stands alone with its own village; and can

therefore hear its own tune from beginning to end。  There are no

other bells in earshot。  Other such dovecote…doors are suddenly set

open to the cloud; on a festa morning; to let fly those soft…voiced

flocks; but the nearest is behind one of many mountains; and our

local tune is uninterrupted。  Doubtless this is why the little;

seclude
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