Tuesday 17 March 2015

Spending time with Basil

In a corner of the busy city of Newcastle upon Tyne there is a little haven of relative  calm behind the Catholic cathedral of St Mary's. A statue of a man stands staring across Neville Street, seemingly towards the Anglican cathedral of St Nicholas, just visible over the copper roof of Bolbec Hall.

The statue stands at one end of an oddly shaped pedestal of stone slabs, smoothly dressed on their upper faces but roughly chiselled around their exterior.  Behind the bronze figure, at the other end of the pedestal is a block of stone surrounded by a number of wave worn boulders. On either side of the block, which I think is of dolerite, like the boulders at its feet, are inscribed some lines of verse, one in English on a flat and polished surface, the other seemingly chiselled rudely into the weathered rock and in words unintelligible to most of those who see them.


Okay, so what of it? Why break a long blog silence to talk about a bit of public art? Is it Caedmon who is depicted here in Newcastle, far from his final home in North Yorkshire?

Sadly, no. The bronze is a much more recent figure, Cardinal Basil Hume. A native of the North East of England, he is commemorated here and the pedestal and rocks are all symbolic of the cradle of Christianity in the region, the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. 

It seems that Cardinal Hume had a particular love of Holy Island and the tale of the conversion of the English as recounted by the Venerable Bede. So, there on the slab is a modern English translation of Cadmon's Hymn of Creation, differing a little from my own, but essentially the same: 


In its favour it does try for alliteration, but it breaks the usual rules by having the alliteration occur twice in the second half line, which is the reverse of the mode in Old English poetry.

It gets better though. As you walk around to the other side of the slab there is a much rougher incised text. This time it is in Old English, employing a rather debased version of Carolingian script. I picked up a few errors but there is enough there to see the the sculptor has wisely opted to use the Northumbrian version with its characteristic use of u for the letter w rather than the West Saxon version which differs on a number of points but is noted for its use of the runic letter wynn for w.


It doesn't look like much, but if you can decipher the letters (and as I say, there are clear errors) then you feel as if you have unlocked a great secret.  


There are no real gaps between words, but here is clearly the opening words of the Hymn; Nu scylun hergon
...hefaon ricaos uard ...
... metudas maocti end ...
... his modgithanc...

... uerc uuldurfadur ...

I would like to thank those responsible for putting this odd little monument in our city, for even with its imperfections it evokes something wonderful. I do not know whether those who eat their lunch by it, pose for photos in front of it or sleep rough near it realise the gem that lies before them.