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Spirit of Place
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nigelswift
8112 posts

Tombo and Shestu
Jun 27, 2003, 10:08
Tombo,

I too have read your Spirit of Place essay in your weblog. I wish I didn’t lack the edification to discuss it with you on an equal basis. Since I suspect I’m a lot older than you it gives me the uncomfortable feeling that I haven’t used my time as well as you. On the other hand, I’ve probably eaten more curries, so I guess it all evens out.

But in one small way I can talk to you about this on an equal basis. You’ve said you agree with me about the dominance of aesthetics. I find that striking, because it’s pretty unusual for people to cite that as a specific constituent of their understanding of Spirit of Place (atmosphere, beauty, natural energy, yes, but nothing more specific). So far as I’ve been able to analyse my own reactions I’ve concluded that for me Spirit of Place IS aesthetics. I’ve actually been forced to that conclusion, as I’ll explain in a minute.

You mentioned you’d like to do some sort of scientific survey of people’s reactions to ancient sites. (I don’t know why you don’t set something up here). If that is your interest then my own testimony might be of use to you since I am at the extreme end of the spectrum of possible reactions: I am a rationalist par excellence, always have been. From the age of six when I sat in my local church, listening to Sunday School stories, surrounded by the signs of faith erected by eight centuries of my elders and betters, and still had the nauseating arrogance to think they and the teacher were deluded purveyors of crap, right through my adult life, I’ve always been consistent and absolute in thinking there was nothing, anywhere, that didn’t connect to the every day world. Rationalism isn’t stubbornness, it’s nature, and you and those who aren’t afflicted should think of us as worthy of sympathy since we are condemned to live smaller lives than you!

So that’s the state I was in when I came to ancient sites a few years ago. Obviously my reactions were positive, for all of the reasons that everyone else here would feel. Plus, I’ve always been a Natural History freak, so that added even more punch in nice settings. But that was it, full stop. It was all what it was, the makers were long dead and nothing was left but what I could see and touch and therefore appreciate.

Then I got into painting and poetry. Nothing to do with ancient sites, but it had the effect of widening my eyes even wider to the natural world and I got onto a whole new level of pleasure from being exposed to it. This wasn’t an hysterical religious experience, you understand, and I still think Wolverhampton is a dump, but driving through the British countryside in June became an absolute feast as never before.

Continued, as too big...
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