SCREEN SHOT - The Odyssey (2026)

 

The Odyssey - Trailer

I doubt I need to fully recount the tale of The Odyssey that is set immediately after the destruction of Troy,. Other than to say, this is the original fantasy source for all protracted and impeded return journey stories, from Lord of The Rings to Lost In Space.  The Odyssey was an important development in Western literature. Both The Illiad and The Odyssey are not verbatim accounts, they are mythical stories. The Illiad may draw on half remembered almost mythic figures and recognisable details, but it is definitely storytelling, not history. The Odyssey is even more horrific and fantastical. 

It is then perfectly legitimate to interpret the story, introduce new angles into it, to cast a black Helen of Troy, and use designs of armour that are not historically accurate for the supposed period. We are not dealing with literal fact, but literary fiction here. However, because this film is of a story so long beloved, there are plenty of experts, both legitimate and armchair, who can't wait to tell you where Christopher Nolan got it all wrong with this film. It doesn't need to be historically accurate, or 100% loyal to the text, the story just needs to be well told. Does it capture your imagination, does it enthrall you through it's near three hours running time, despite its familiarity, does it grip you and carry along with it, does it move and shock you? The answer to all these questions is, yes, by the triumphant bucket load.

Odysseus (Matt Damon) is a psychologically broken man, consumed with traumatic stress and guilt. He created a peace offering to Athena as a deception, that enabled the rape and destruction of Troy. The slow decimation of all his fellow Ithacan crewmates, on his journey back home, was caused by his offending Poseidon. Odysseus can be cunning, he can be reckless and brutal, but usually he is trying to do good, to be honourable, to save the lives of his comrades. But somehow his good intentions are never sufficient to appease the punishment of the gods. 

In Nolan's script he blames himself for having erased a whole civilisation. There are also passing references, to the growing attacks of the Sea People, which is a historical fact. The evisceration of Troy, becomes another of Odysseus's actions that has a tragic consequence, here it is the progenitor of the fall of the entire Bronze Age civilisation. Though none of these are mentioned specifically in the original Odyssey, they were known of in the period of Homer, they do place the stories within a timeframe that it is a meaningful juxtaposition to highlight. 

If I have a qualm, it's that in partially abandoning the linear narrative of the original book, to move back and forth in the time sequence, it does lose some of the sense of a long perilous journey unfolding. I perfectly understand why it was done, it means we understand what his life in Ithaca was like before he left, and what has been going on in Ithaca before Odysseus actually gets back there, I just think the flashback storytelling format isn't entirely successful here in justifying that decision.

There are plenty of references and echoes ricocheting through the film, associations and foreboding oracles of things to come. You never really see Agamemnon ( Benny Safdie ) his face is hidden beneath his heavily stylised, evil looking black polished helmet and armour. When he strides into a scene wearing it, he instantly communicates the type of domineering, malevolent, menacing person he is. He is the classical world's equivalent of Darth Vader. A man who would sacrifice his own daughter to obtain an advantage with the gods, who later was to die at the hands of a vengeful wife, on his return from Troy. And Odysseus too has seriously wronged the gods, his long suffering wife Penelope ( Anne Hathaway ) waits distraught for lack of news of him, whilst his journey home becomes so plagued with impediments placed there by the gods. And it is the ghost of Agamemnon who warns him to conceal his identity on his return to Ithaca, to avoid succumbing to a similar regicide of his own.

Some critics have commented that they thought Nolan's film was not dark enough. I think it retains a remarkable amount of the stories bleakness, of Odysseus being caught in a hell somewhat of his own making. Whilst they're all lost at sea, being pounded by storms, no one cracks a light hearted joke for hours. Being held in the Cyclops cave or turned into pigs by Circe ( an awards worthy performance from Samantha Morton ) are two standout truly sinister and horrific moments in the entire film. I myself was wondering quite how they would handle the scene of his return to Ithaca, where Odysseus slaughters all the suitors who have been menacing his wife and regularly living off his food and drink for years. In the book, I found that scene truly shocking in how graphic and wantonly cruel it is. Causing me to mentally turn away, to question just how fucked up Odysseus was? 

In the film, Nolan uses all his consummate editing and brilliantly suggestive visual skill,  to portray this furiously unbridled slaughter by building up visual and sonic intensity, that does not resort either to the grotesque or the gratuitous in order to draw blood. It conveys a darkly menacing, if not, on the edge of being mad form of revenge. I held my breath for most of its carnage, wondering when it would come to an end. When Penelope pleads with Odysseus not to die the very moment he has returned to her, emotionally that broke me. Nolan invents Penelope and Odysseus leaving Ithaca to be ruled by their son Telemachus ( Tom Holland ) They sail west to fulfil Odysseus's promise to his crewmen to perform ceremonies to honour their deaths. After all his struggles to survive, to exact revenge, we reach remorse, and the need to bring a concluding peace to his disordered life. His son needs time to grow into being King. As the burnished sun sets over a story of one Ithacan King. All this, and to retain a 15 certification is, to my eyes. a minor miracle.

Taking Mark Kermode's recommendation to see The Odyssey in an IMax, we took a day trip into Norwich. Christopher Nolan shot The Odyssey entirely on IMax cameras. In my experience I can't believe any other projection format would have quite the same visual and aural impact. A good deal of the foreboding and tension in the film is created by the sound track, huge thundering noises, earth shattering booms and waves punching hard against people and boats. You feel the sound in an IMax cinema in your bones. Combined with the visuals, this means you come out of this movie in a state of shellshock, totally stunned.This film is so full frontal and in your face. It raises the stakes on what epic can be.

CARROT REVIEW - 7/8

PROTEST & PROGRESS - Uncivil & Civil War

My purpose in writing this Protest & Progress blog post, is to explore for myself the history of English Protest Movements. What effect they had, and the changes they may ( or may not ) have instigated. Today, it's the period before, during and after the Civil Wars.

The middling compromise that Elizabeth 1st's religious settlement of 1559 made, between old and new religious traditions, superficially stabilised the country. But that settlement entailed a huge degree of ostracizing of Catholics from high public office and influence. Anti-Catholic suspicion, derision and outright hatred, that still persists in the UK's collective psyche to this day, has its cultural foundations in this period. As her reign neared it's end, Catholic plots concerning Elizabeth's successor circled around Mary Queen of Scots, who, though deeply flawed as a monarch, was the best Catholic option available.  Eventually, with some ministerial pressure and her own reluctance overcome, Elizabeth removed the problem by executing her.

The only realistic claimant left was James 6th of Scotland, ironically Mary's estranged son, deliberately brought up to be a Protestant. Though she never clearly stated this preference, Elizabeth was canny enough to know full well that James was the obvious candidate. Her apparent dithering may simply have been tactical, to prevent any premature opposition to her successor developing.

An undertow of Catholic resistance, however, would quickly resurface in James 1st's reign, with the infamous plot to explode Parliament and kill King James. That the removal of Parliament was part of the objective, recognised how much the levers of power was shifting towards it. Increasingly split religiously between Catholic and Protestant sympathisers, Parliament was becoming noticeably less willing to genuflect to the kings will. James, though prone to paranoia, did at least manage to hold the ship of monarchy steady. On the succession in 1625 of his son Charles 1st, things took a rockier, more combative turn. Charles was flamboyant, an aesthete, married to a Catholic, he also took worryingly long trips to Catholic European countries, ostensibly to buy the latest fashions in baroque art. He was the last inflexible flush of a monarchy for whom the medieval concept of 'the divine right of kings', was an ardently held reality. That his wishes and demands should prevail over those of Parliament.

Parliament's religious and political divisiveness had its echoes across the country. The Protestant philosophy of 'salvation by faith alone' had introduced a new radical individualism into the country's religious practice. One which Elizabeth 1st's father Henry 8th, had himself demonstrated. Once you broke from adherence to Rome and the Pope, you could turn yourself into the leader of your own church or sect. 

One's faith was becoming increasingly a matter of personal choice, rather than requiring adherence to a collectively imposed belief system. And some truly radical sects were popping up all over the fertile soil of England's ferment. Charles's alleged Catholic sympathies served only to amplify a strong vein of 'republican' revolt amongst his own citizens, already opposed to the whole idea of a hereditary monarchy and ' Popery'. Disquiet undoubtedly was present, with a huge plethora of uncivil religious and political dissenting groups emerging before, during and after the Civil War's turmoil broke out. 

These groups further exemplify how political and religious allegiances were becoming inseparable, centering on ideas for how a new fairer more equitable society could be created. And if this was not to happen in England, from The Mayflower in 1620 onwards, these groups could emigrate, taking there religious convictions to America. Most dissenters had some religious theory or view point, which had specific political or social implications. Even the most basic list of them is long - Anabaptists, Baptists, Barrowists, Behemenists, Brownies, Diggers, Enthusiasts, Familists, Fifth Monarchists, Grindletonians, Levellers, Muggeltonians, Philodelphians, Puritans, Quakers, Ranters, Sabbatarians, Seekers, Socinians. Here are details of three, to give you a flavour of them.

The Levellers
Originally a term to describe rural peasants who levelled illegal enclosure walls and hedges.  The Levellers were a political movement active between the 1st and 2nd Civil Wars. Essentially campaigning for equality and widening the vote as a natural right, and electing a sovereign by popular vote. They were the first political dissenting group to disseminate their ideas through the distribution of pamphlets, petitions and vox box populism. Though their ideas were widely held within the New Model Army, they were very effectively sidelined by Parliament and Cromwell's Republic. 

The Diggers
Originally a disgruntled offspring from the above, who called themselves The True Levellers. They were more radical as an organisation, their political and religious philosophy would these days be called 'agrarian socialism'. Demanding common ownership of land and property in line with what was outlined in The Acts of the Apostles. They were non-conformists who wanted reform of the social order and created small communities based on egalitarian principles. They tried to re-establish farming on common land. This led to them being called 'diggers', and they were constantly being violently removed by local authorities and landowners.

The Grindletonians
Once you feel able to question the authority of the king, it becomes feasible to extend that questioning to all external authority, whether that be religious or political. The Grindletonians were a short lived phenomena in 17th Century England, exhibiting an extreme antinomian tendency. Emerging first in London in a sermon preached in 1627. The central belief of Grindletonian Familists, to give them their full name, was that salvation by faith and divine grace were one's sole binding moral authority, and no other law or power could take precedence over them.  Obedience to any common law, became dependent upon whether it conformed to your Christian belief or not. No other external authority would be recognised, whether that was King or Parliament. 

This tendency the Grindletonians represented was vehemently opposed, even by the father of the Reformation, Martin Luther. Their leadership came mostly from local clerics. So it was primarily an internal Church of England matter to police, and several vicars were hauled before church courts to answer for their antinomian sentiments, The last know English Grindletonian died in 1680.  Though this antinomian notion did spread, influencing other dissenting groups such as the Ranters and Quakers. The growth of Presbyterianism to America, means to this day it still manifests this antinomian tendency in Evangelical groups there.

Throw a defiant vain Catholic monarch into this simmering, growing pool of dissent and watch it transform rebellious uncivil behaviour into a civil war, and ultimately regicide. Even after two bouts of Civil War, nothing from a dissenting point of view was to them fully settled. Why accept a compromise when you could achieve a perfection unsullied by practicalities. Cromwell, may have started as a staunch Parliamentarian and anti monarchist, but soon found keeping the lid on a wide range of unreasonable demands from Protestant dissenters, was as much of an issue as containing Catholic and monarchist insurgency. His role as Protector of the Realm, soon became a king by another name, equally as ruthless, and ideologically proved to be more tyrannical. Though the Republic was short lived, it did firmly establish Parliament as the primary governing authority in England. When the monarchy was restored with Charles 2nd in 1660, this was came with Parliaments full approval. Though the Civil Wars were one long rebellious fight for this supremacy, there were a couple of other 17th century rebellions of significance.

THE WESTERN RISING 1627-1632
In the run up to the Civil Wars, the most significant rebellion was The Western Rising. This erupted across the West Country, spread sporadically east into the Midlands over a five year period. This was yet another protest about illegal enclosure, which arose from a different direction than before. Across England were numerous royal forests, such as the Forest of Dean. By adjusting the legal status of these royal forests as crown property, bits of them could now be sold off to the highest bidder. This was done to increase the royal coffers, to service Charles 1st's notably expensive tastes. Once this land was purchased by new owners they would enclose it, local rights would be removed, and access actively prohibited. These forest enclosures during the uprising were being regularly breached or dismantled, the age of defiant trespass of privately owned land had arrived. Local councils started to complain of the increased burden upon them, when an influx of impoverished peasantry moved into the wealthier towns and cities. Once again the consequences and effect on the poor of such egregious enclosure was never accounted for, at all. 

THE MONMOUTH REBELLION 1685
Primarily this rebellion, led by the Duke of Monmouth, one of Charles 2nd's bastard sons, was an attempt to overthrow James 2nd. A monarch who was crassly and openly exposing Catholic sympathies, barely twenty five years after the end of the Civil War. Underneath this challenge to the succession, were festering wounds and grievances from those wars still not fully healed to many people's minds. The Restoration of the Monarchy in 1660, had been, for many Protestants, a gross betrayal of what the Civil War had supposedly been fought for. And now James 2nd was trying to reverse the Reformation and restore the primacy of the Pope too. Monmouth attempted to hitch his claim to the throne alongside these still simmering resentments. But despite pre-arranging a simultaneous rising in Scotland, and provocatively crowning himself in Taunton, the appetite for further conflict just was not there to be stoked. Monmouth failed to attract and build the sort of ardent following you would need to ensure a rebellion would succeed. 

Eventually on his defeat at The Battle of Sedgemoor on the 6th of July, he was captured and speedily executed a week later in the Tower of London. The battle had a huge rebel death toll of nearly 3,000, compared to the 27 royalists. James, nonetheless, set up The Bloody Assises, where Judge Jeffries tried and executed some of the remaining rebel leaders. Though mostly rebel sympathisers were sent to serve their sentence out working in England's relatively new colony of the West Indies. James clung on a further three years as monarch, vainly trying to restore Catholic fortunes in the face of widespread opposition. Only to be deposed by another cousin William Duke of Orange in 1688, in what became known as the Glorious Revolution. This anachronistically was neither glorious nor revolutionary, but merely a peaceful, cleanly executed transition of monarchical power, which Parliament had actively instigated. James's subsequent exile to Europe meant his Stuart descendents, fifty years later, would return to re-state their claim.

For all the upheaval, huge loss of life and political turbulence that broke out in the middle decades of Seventeenth Century England, very little was actually achieved beyond the execution of a king and establishing the primacy of Parliament. You might say social mobility improved, but then it had been doing so for at least two centuries already. Little of direct benefit to the everyday lives of ordinary lower class English citizens was felt. Parliament may have become stronger as an executive, but it still only represented the nobility and politically wealthy landowning elites. The Restoration of the monarchy appeared to return England to business as usual, as though the Civil Wars and The Republic, were an aberration that had never really happened. 

The protests and rebellions over the next few centuries became multi faceted ones, fighting cronyism, corruption, that old nemesis the enclosures, technological revolutions, and the expansion of Parliamentary representation. These were to be long hard fought for battles, and you could argue, ones that still have some road left to be travelled, even today. When democracy itself appears to have forgotten why and how it came into being in the first place.

Next Episode - Unsettling Revolutions 

FINISHED READING - The Will To Change by Bell Hooks

"Men cannot change if there are no blueprints for change. Men cannot love if they are not taught the art of loving. It is not true that men are unwilling to change. It is true that many men are afraid to change. It is true that masses of men have not even begun to look at the ways that patriarchy keeps them from knowing themselves, from being in touch with feelings, from loving. To know love, men must be able to let go the will to dominate, they must be able to choose life over death. They must be willing to change."

I picked up this copy of The Will To Change, as part of my continued reading on the 'masculinity crisis'. I've encountered books recently by Richard V Reeves and felt a feminist perspective, though acknowledged, was rarely fully applied.  Of Boys and Men, in my opinion got bogged down in it's allegiances to facts and figures, and as Reeves is a former political adviser, he treated the masculinity crisis as any 'policy wonk' would, with a practical legislative agenda. That is one of many, perfectly valid approaches.

"The grief men feel about the failure of love, often goes unnoticed in our society precisely because the patriarchal future really does not care if men are unhappy....... The masculine pretence is that real men feel no pain."

This book by Bell Hooks, looked like a different place from which to start exploring a more psychologically imaginative feeling based perspective. At its root is the question - why is it so difficult for men to change themselves? If feminism's success is not the imagined progenitor of the current masculinity crisis, then what is?

"Once upon a time I thought it was a female thing, this fear of men. Yet when I began to talk with men about love, time and time again I heard stories of male fear of other males. Indeed, men who feel, who love, often hide their emotional awareness from other men for fear of being attacked or shamed. This is the big secret we all keep together - the fear of patriarchal maleness that binds everyone in our culture."

From the start she lays out a clear message, that this isn't just about achieving gender equality, or pay parity,  but examining the persistent and pernicious effects of patriarchy upon our collective world view. We are not taking the pressures patriarchy applies in twisting our psyche's out of shape, and the effect this has upon the lives of both men and women. And whilst there are very good men and women out there doing sterling work to challenge these effects, only small changes in this underlying zeitgeist are being made. 

"No male successfully measures up to patriarchal standards without engaging in an ongoing practice of self-betrayal."

She repeatedly states, how she understands women's reluctance to get drawn into men liberating themselves from the shackles patriarchy puts upon them. But the tendency is to then diminish the problem, in order to return the focus to further advancing women's progress. Which means we are only really addressing one half of patriarchy's sphere of influence. And you could say, well that's for men to sort out for themselves. Which if all things were equal that would be the case, but they are not. Because the effect of patriarchy upon men is so tightly drawn, so narrow and limiting in it's perspective, that stepping outside of it without some sort of guide or external help, can almost be too impossible to imagine.  

" Despite the contemporary visionary feminist thinking that makes clear that a patriarchal thinker need not being male, most folks continue to see men as the problem of patriarchy. This simply not the case. Women can be as wedded to patriarchal thinking and action as men . "

Unless, of course, you feel you are placed outside of it by being gay for instance. This, in my experience, can force you to question the whole idea of masculinity you are being presented with. Though as Hooks points out, even in gay male culture strong patriarchal echoes of insensitive brutality and predatory none consensual sex can still be found within it.

If patriarchy were truly rewarding to men,  the violence and addiction in family life that is so all pervasive would not exist.. This violence was not created by feminism. If patriarchy were rewarding, the overwhelming dissatisfaction extensively documented ... would not exist."

She also asks women to examine their own role in the creation of male patriarchy. How in the difficult state of a mother raising a son and a daughter, they may still hold and perpetuate residual patriarchal instincts or expectations. The far right might like you to believe that patriarchy is biologically determined by God, and is hence a natural thing, not a culturally nurtured choice, but Hooks will have none of that. 

"We cannot turn our hearts away from boys and men, then ponder why the politics of war continues to shape our national policy and our intimate romantic lives."

I found The Will To Change presented a refreshingly open and broad perspective on how patriarchy reinforces itself, in both men and women. She gave me some new things to think about, as well as clarifying my own understanding of why men are currently stuck in a no mans land, unhappy and unloved within the confines of patriarchy, but unable to find an effective route towards a new way of inhabiting being masculine. This is one of he most helpful books I've read on this subject so far.

"We cannot honour boys rightly, protecting their emotional life, without ending patriarchy. To pretend otherwise is to collude with the ongoing soul murder that is enacted in the name of turning boys into men. "

CARROT REVIEW - 6/8

ART 'N' AB ART - Undercurrent - Wighton 26 Exhibition

This annual exhibition of contemporary art made by Norfolk artists has been running for 26 years. Each year a different artist or artists curates the selection. This is only the second year we have stopped off to view it, and though this seemed a better selection overall than last year, that really isn't saying much. Ian McGilchrist in a recent lecture, bemoaned art that need a A4 sheet of text to explain it. And there are works here that do that, or come perilously close to morally berating you on the evils of plastic bottles. If you want to see art about the climate crisis and environmental degradation then the Legacy exhibition at Cromer Artspace recently, was exemplary in how to do interesting, relevant art that was visually thought provoking work, without turning that into belligerent propaganda or hectoring you with facts.

Using a church space well, is always quite a challenge. Last year's was generally quite poorly displayed, this exhibition is better thought through and arranged. What gets me about some of the work here is how astoundingly dull so much of it is, because it has so little to say. Muddy or very ephemeral looking paintings, sculptures that look like an aesthetic arrangement of objects, that are not actually in a productive conversation. Geometrical forms perched on plinths, with ranting sloganeering hand written on each face panel. 

The few striking pieces were - an obelisk with brightly coloured relief panels - various small pieces of neon art hung in porches, up pillars and waving at us from an old rood loft stairway, table cloths made out of gardening centre plant labels. My favourite sculptural pieces were a selection of spherical shapes with spiky fronds or studded with screws.

Overall it was hard to say stuff stood out, because it didn't, surrounded as it was by so many half baked ideas, and the sort of work you'd do at A level, and subsequently burn from embarrassment. 

CARROT REVIEW - 3/8

FEATURE - AI and the Battle for the Soul - Iain McGilchrist & Jonathan Pageau

These two lectures were given as part a conference at Ralston College, a privately run liberal arts college in Savannah, Georgia. Together these lectures by McGilchrist and Pageau make interesting bookends, providing two very contrasting approaches to AI, and helpfully open out an imaginatively clearheaded appraisal of the pro and cons of it.

Iain McGilchrist -Information is not Understanding

McGilchrist perceives the way AI is being sold to us as deeply flawed. Consciousness is not a bank full of a wealth of information. The distinguishing factor in human consciousness and cogitation is an ability to imagine outside of the box of knowledge we already possess, stimulated through what we bring our attention to. Directed by the motivations of our soul (our overall sense for what has meaning, of ourself and purpose in life) not a computer programme. McGilchrist applies his left and right brain hypothesis to AI, which is essentially a very left brain technology. AI deals primarily in the acquisition of already known knowledge. Wisdom or understanding, however, is not really achieved simply by the amount of information we have available.  Arising more often unexpectedly as though from nowhere. He uses the analogy of our being more like hopeful gardeners, who plant, feed and water ideas without any certainty of what will grow.

Jonathan Pageau - Whom Does AI Serve?

Pageau's talk is the more direct and punchier of the two talks. He asks from the outset 'Who does AI serve'. The conversation about whether AI is conscious is a red herring in this regard. AI is a grab for power by people whose moral framework appears at best to be rather vague or non-existent, which is in itself worrying. AI also appears to have no fixed objective that we might see as being good for humanity. Where is the holy grail here? AI simply wants our attention because it extracts information from us like bloodsucking vampires. The presence of AI asks of us, to know what we ourselves are serving through our lives, and our interactions with AI programmes. Asks us to question how this aligns with our own sense for whether this is for our own or humanities good. It's not that we can set a limit on what AI is applied to. It's already out there, growing exponentially, with no apparent end in sight to its voracious hunger for factual details.

FINISHED READING - Lower Than The Angels by Diarmaid MacCulloch

I was really looking forward to getting my head between the pages of this volume. As with so many of Diarmaid MacCulloch's books, it is quite a substantial rifling though of the history of Christianity's rather hesitant, then proscriptive, then punishing, then moderating, to provaricating attitude towards the whole area of sex, marriage, same sex relations etc. MacCulloch guides us through it all. There's a definite air of him thoroughly enjoying the writing of this one. The sentences and expressiveness is considerably more spritely and spikey. His humour more cuttingly on show, with wonderfully wry, and on occasions very dry, passing comments. So, besides being a revelation on the various volte faces of the Christian attitude towards sex, it also investigates it's uneasy handling of gender, particularly the oppressive way it has dealt with the feminine or anything it considers transgressive of moral norms.

Christianity was initial reluctant to intervene in marriage, what happened within it was originally considered a private matter. That became over the centuries increasingly proscriptive. It took the Catholic Church twelve hundred years before it took complete control of the whole marriage procedure.  Marriage became promoted as a means to legitimise the act of procreating the species. Sex for any other reason. for fun for instance, was to be downplayed, or even frowned upon. Encouraging married couples to practise chastity the rest of the time. This links it with the issue of a celibate priesthood, also a late development. The transition in medieval times from having married clergy to a solo celibate priest, was, as you can imagine, pretty messy. It required a lot of chaste relationships whilst the 'aberattion' of previous decades slowly vanished. Clergy and monastics were now meant to exemplify a more 'angelic' way of living to their congregation. Because angels, as every one understood, were asexual or non sexual beings. Though quite how they so firmly established that fact is left mythically vague.

In the middle of all this is a mischievous little paragraph about Pope Gregory :-

"Before Gregory became Pope, he was struck by the good looks of some English boys or youths who, Bede says, were being sold as slaves in Rome. Enquiring where they came from and being told that they were 'Angli', Gregory commented that the name was appropriate to those with angelic faces, and he varied that cheerful thought in a clutch of further devout Latin puns. Traditionally Gregory's reported literary playfulness has been summed up in a misquotation as 'Angli sed angeli': 'Not Angles, but angels.' Perhaps the agreeable neatness of the pun has allowed the survival of a story which, if reframed as ' Pope, impressed by beauty of young enslaved males, launches mission', might not meet modern safeguarding standards in the methods of evangelism."

When he comes to examine homosexuality MacCulloch unearths some interesting facts. Mediterranean attitudes in the South were generally permissive towards same sex relationships, whilst northern countries tended to be more proscriptive. Though Christianity has been greatly enamoured by the works of Ancient Greek philosophers such as Plato and Socrates, they became deeply shocked to discover their blatant homosexuality. This fact they studiously edited out of copies of these philosopher's work for centuries. Even words, and to whom they are applied can also suddenly pivot.

"There is nevertheless no doubt that 'effeminacy' also completely reversed its meaning as a description, previously, Catholics had mocked Tudor Protestant bishops as 'effeminate'  for their excessive interest in women, rather as John Chrysostom had mocked male partners in chaste heterosexual relationships. A century after the Reformation, the same mockery was applied for the same reason to England's Charles 2nd, that most ebulliently heterosexual of monarchs, so the subsequent switch in meanings after 1700 was very sudden. The new eighteenth century stereotype of the theatrically effeminate homosexual has had a long life; it remains a source both of mockery and of proud gay self-assertion in masculinised heterosexual cultures."

MacCulloch also reveals how even the term 'heterosexual', if examined etymologically, implies an indiscriminate romping across a wide range of the feminine, in and outside of marriage. Literally anything female will do. So, no monogamy there then.  When it comes to trans issues, there are numerous examples of men and women throughout history living as the opposite sex, without that ever becoming an issue with the generally knowing broader population. He resurrects the life of St Wilgefortis as an iconographic example:-

" The bizarre legend and devotional iconography of St Wilgefortis (Uncumber), who had grown a beard in order to escape the threat of a non-Christian marriage and as punishment had been crucified. She/they developed a cult among unhappy wives, and, despite official unsainting by Rome in 1969, Wilgefortis has attracted a new constituency of non-binary interest today."

It does seem that the dual arrival in the 18th century of The Enlightenment, and John Wesley's street evangelism, appeared to trigger a tightening of the moral opprobrium around same sex relationships, and even the more widespread, supposedly deleterious effects of masturbation upon morals. Initially it was unclear from which moral stand point The Enlightenment stood regarding science, sex and it's diversity. Taking far too seriously obvious charlatans like Mary Todd who claimed they have given birth to several rabbits. 

As the narrative moves to more recent times, he charts the difficult arising of the abolition of slavery, women's emancipation, contemporary concerns about abortion and homosexuality, that now include trans issues. The latter three appearing to exist in parallel opprobrium within Fundamentalist Christianity. The propensity for Christianity to move the biblical goal posts when it suits, is exemplified by an attempt to answer the question Why Jesus makes no mention of homosexuality at all in his teachings? The answer apparently was very simple, so the theologians proudly stated; before God's son could be born into the world, the Lord Almighty had eradicated all gay people from the world. It's a neat duck, but a laughably fallacious later concoction. 

In modern times political adoption of Christianity becomes similarly slippery with the actual facts. Putin often borrows the moral cloak of Russian Orthodoxy when it suits his political agenda.  When he was invading Ukraine, he claimed the Donbas region were asking to be saved from 'gay parades 'which as MacCulloch remarks had not previously been ' notably part of Ukrainian President Zelensky's declared military strategy.' Contemporary right wing Christians fail to reflect on their own religion's history with regard to sex, marriage and the family. That for the first millennium it was dominated by the pursuit of an 'angelic' celibacy, and only after the Reformation did bolstering the family unit become a central thrust of its ministry. Plus a long history of campaigning for more compassionate responses towards those who are poor, or minorities being oppressed or abused.

" My observation of the discussion of sexual morality during six decades of ecclesiastical life and politics has been that self-styled traditionalists rarely know enough about the traditions that they proclaim; conservatives do not fully admit to themselves or to others what it is they are trying to conserve, and why they are trying to conserve it. It is important when demolishing myths from the past not to create new ones to justify the present."

CARROT REVIEW - 6/8

PROTEST & PROGRESS - Kett's Rebellion

My purpose in writing this Protest & Progress blog post, is to explore for myself the history of English Protest Movements. What effect they had, and the changes they may ( or may not ) have instigated. Today, it's the Kett's Rebellion.

1549 - THE KETT'S REBELLION
Once the dissolution of the monasteries finally concluded in 1541, the question was, what happens to the vast landholding, the estates of these institutions? Henry 8th required cash more than land. He used former monastic land as capital to pay for his extravagances and palace building, but also as bribery to secure the allegiance of the nobility. There was a form of competitive tendering going on between landowners to obtain the prime richest most fertile bits of monastic farmland. This legitimised land grab took place right across the country. Illegal enclosure of common pasture had been going on for centuries, slowly nibbling away at its edges, undermining the very principle of commonly held pasture. And though officially such enclosures were illegal, unofficially a blind eye was taken towards them. Particular by those who made the law and it's enforcement, who were often the chief infringers of it. After a few years, who would remember it was once land set aside for peasants to graze their animals on?

East Anglia had still not reached the peak of its wool and weaving boom, that had turned it into one of the richest counties in England. Post the dissolution illegal enclosures were rife here. Agriculture which had been such an integral part of those institutions economic support system, was now in crisis. Without common land peasants had no where else to graze their livestock on. Large landowners forced tenant farmers off their land in order to incorporate it into their ever enlarging estates. Converting arable pasture into land suitable for raising sheep on, which was an incredibly profitable move. The whole 'wool' economy was now in danger of over heating, inflation and unemployment were rising, just as real wages were plummeting. With these sort of economic conditions a revolt of some sort was inevitable.

Tempers frayed and broke first in Wymondham in July 1549. In the previous month the lord of the manor in near by Attenborough has suddenly erected fences around common pasture land. These had angrily been torn down by local peasantry. Convinced they were acting within the law, because Edmund Seymour, The Lord Protector of the child King Edward 6th, had recently issued a proclamation declaring the illegality of such enclosures. After holding a celebration in what remained of monastic Wymondham Abbey, they marched over to two nearby villages, intent on removing fencing around common pasture, erected by Sir John Flowerdew, who'd overseen the dissolution at Wymondham. Showing a degree of malevolent cunning, Flowerdew bribed these rioters to go and attack his neighbour Robert Kett's enclosed land, and to leave his alone.

Robert Kett was fifty seven, a man from an old Wymondham farming family. He had been central in the saving of the Abbey Church for use by the town, which had put him in direct conflict with Sir John Flowerdew. To his credit, he recognised the grievances the rebels expressed, joined them and tore down his own fences and those of Flowerdew. Once Kett launched himself into full support of the rebellion, other villages and towns did likewise. They headed in ever great numbers towards Mousehold Heath, that looks down on the River Wensum and the City of Norwich. For the next six weeks the camp on the heath continued growing in size. Forming its own rudimentary council to run the camp and the campaign, beneath what came to be called Kett's Oak of Reformation. 

Here they drew up a petition to deliver to the Protector Somerset, outlining twenty nine demands. Only one of those specifically related to the enclosure of common land. But most of the others were a mixture of semi- related concerns - limiting the interference of the gentry, particularly in relation to the villages, restraining the pace of change, the over exploiting of communal land and resources, reshaping the values of the clergy, a rent reduction and punishing corrupt officials. All the while fences across East Anglia around enclosures were being riotously dismantled. Eventually the rebels moved to take control of Norwich itself. This was the point when armed regiments began to arrive in ever increasing force, to free the city from rebel capture. A battle outside the city walls in August 1549, brought the rebellion to a brutal end. Huge numbers of rebels were hung from an entrance gate to the city.  Kett was arrested and taken to the Tower of London, eventually to return to be hung from the walls of Norwich Castle in December, as an exemplary warning.

Initially the King's ministers made a great deal of negative propaganda out of 'the sins' of this rebellion. But over the subsequent centuries what Kett achieved during this rebellion transformed him into a folk hero. The level of organised opposition to the status quo, is what is most exemplary here. Rebels basically set up their own alternative ruling jurisdiction, with its own codes of behaviour. Nothing like this had been seen before in popular rebellions, which is why the authorities became so rattled. They did nothing to meet or appease the rebel demands, but came down hard upon them. 

What this rebellion demonstrated was that the English countryside was in the midst of huge social changes, after the monasteries were destroyed. All they we're really asking for was for these upheavals to be managed better, the land grab to stop, and the needs of the common people to be taken into account. The entire way society was run needed urgent social, economic and religious reform. Kett's Rebellion was the first indication that the emerging Protestant religious reformation and more radical political ideologies were in the early stages of becoming entwined.

Next Episode - Uncivil & Civil War

ART 'N' AB ART - Legacy - Brenda Unwin & Sarah Caputo - Cromer Art Space Exhibition

Cromer Art Space exhibitions have been, in terms of artistic quality at least, a bit erratic this year. I read the synopsis for this one, looked at the photo in the programme and my thoughts tended towards dismissive.  It bore, so I thought, all the hallmarks of a worthy theme, whose artworks might turn out to be underwhelming as an experience. But, I was completely wrong in making that prejudicial assessment. This is by far the best Art Space exhibition of the 2026 season. And one I'd recommend you try and see before the 27th July, its final day.

It explores the theme legacy through generations of environmental damage to the Norfolk coastal environment, whilst also being, in a variety of innovative ways, an aesthetic experience. Ceramic interlocked curves arranged like sea defenses in a sand pit, cast from collages of found beach objects and drawings etched into its surface, with delicate coloured glazes. Unwin and Caputo often work collaboratively, with ideas bounced between them, whilst each explores through there own preffered medium, whether that be ceramic or printmaking.

So we have large screen printed hangings with angular colourful arrangements of image and text. Walls of a wide range of mono colour Collograph prints composed from plates of found objects and textures.  Fascinating cylindrical casts, like core samples, of objects trapped within plaster, as though frozen in their layers of time and origin. Or part sculptural, part specimen, stacked monoliths  These bore distant echoes of Kurt Schwitters Merz projects where space ended up getting smaller as objects became more deeply buried within its walls.  The elements of time and degradation are rarely missing from the aesthetic here. We have not just recently arrived at this particular point in the climate crisis, it's foundations were laid in the Industrial Revolution.  Our reckless disregard for the effects of our industry upon the natural world is now all too visible in the stratigraphy, in the oceans, and within us.  There is so much in this exhibition that could well require a second visit.

CARROT REVIEW - 7/8

2026 PLAYLIST No 16 - Alviverde by Jun Miyake & Arto Lindsay

Alviverde by Jun Miyake & Arto Lindsay

If you have seen the film Pina about the work of the choreographer and performer Pina Bauch, you will instantly be familiar with this tune. I , however, re-encountered it recently through my rooting about in Arto Lindsay's back catalogue, and You tube's algorithm did the rest. It is such an addictive tune, underpinned by that spritely double bass riff and the scattering percussive rhythm that dances around it propelling the music onwards. Over the top of this Arto Lindsay does his usual laid back oh so effortlessly cool singing. It is currently on repeat play on my daily music list. 

SCREEN SHOT - Kingdom of Heaven ( 2005 ) Director's Cut

Kingdom of Heaven is a Ridley Scott epic film through and through. This probably contains some of his finest stagings of battle sequences, with a gritty, if not to says sand dusted, aesthetic. This is bold large scale filmmaking, with an attempt at a big story at its core. The original release had nearly an hour cut from it by the distributor, and unsurprisingly people were a bit baffled and non plussed by the film, it didn't quite fully make sense. Very shortly afterwards Ridley Scott released a Director's Cut, which at over three hours in length does give the story more time to breathe properly. There are some brilliant performances from the likes of Liam Neeson, Jeremy Irons, Ghassan Massoud, Eva Green. Plus Brendan Gleeson as a knight who has completely lost his marbles to barbarity, and an admirably restrained Edward Norton is devastating as the leperous King Baldwin.

Balian (Orlando Bloom) is a blacksmith in a nondescript French village. His life has fallen apart with the post partum suicide of his wife. Nothing about his life makes sense for him anymore. A group of Crusader knights pass through. One of them, Godfrey de Ibelin (Liam Neeson) turns out to be his Father. He tells him one way to redeem himself from the shameful shadow of his wife's suicide, would be to come with him on crusade. At first refusing. he later gets into an argument with his brother, whom he ends up murdering. He escapes on horse, to catch up with the Crusader knights. He really needs the salvation of the Crusades now.

The Crusades are a fascinating period to attempt to portray through one story. Kingdom of Heaven takes snapshots from the history and tries to deminstrate quite what a moral quagmire the Crusades were. Crusaders often had a very mixed perversion of motives. The character of Balian attempts to keep his volutions pure in a situation that screams at him to be morally compromised by a desire for power, wealth or sex. Sybilla ( Eva Green ) the sister of King Baldwin, is married to a brute of a Templar knight. The evident affection between Balian and Sybilla has to remain suppressed or at least chaste. Sybilla's life is one long suffering series of dutiful actions to protect herself, her brother and her nephew from harm. The ideals of the time were indeed held very high, only for most to inevitably fall hard and short of.

There are then a number of very meaty themes running through this film, which the script does sensitively grapple with, but doesn't always fully give convincing form to them. And if I were to hazard a guess at why this film, which is undoubtedly a very fine example of Ridley Scott at his most ambitious, nonetheless fails, I'd say it comes down to two things - it's script and it's leading man. 

The script lacks sharpness and bite, it doesn't quite get to grips with forming a cohesive line of moral tone through it. It went for far too broad a pallet of characters and scenarios that ended up muddying the clarity of the narrative line. Now this may have been saved if your lead had all the acting heft and sensitive intelligence of a Russell Crowe in Gladiator, which this film attempted to follow. But Orlando Bloom, really does not have a bone of moral gravitas in him. So as soon as you ask him to defend Jerusalem with a noble rousing speech from the battlements, it falls somewhat flat and limp. It's not that he is a bad actor, far from it, But a light romantic comedy this is not. What this film requires of him, is the breadth of his acting talent to raise its game to match it. I can understand why he was chosen, he was at his peak in popularity between Pirates of the Caribbean and Lord of the Rings, he was big box office. But having this low key emotionally thin form of acting at it's centre, knocks a great big hole in the compelling vividness of its storytelling. You don't root for this guy, just pass him the sun cream and moisturizer. 

This Director's Cut does a sterling job at salvaging Kingdom of Heaven, because there is a lot to be in love with in this film. But it still only tips a hat towards greatness, unable to grasp it with both hands.

CARROT REVIEW -6/8

MY OWN WALKING - The Anniversary Issue

The 10th of July, was a Friday this year. It was the second anniversary of my heart attack. How much things have significantly moved on since then. My gratitude for being alive, still able to enjoy a good life, still free of debilitating illness, has only grown deeper. Obviously some or all of this could, and probably will, change at some point.  I remain mindful of not taking life and it's quality for granted or acting as if wishful assumptions were fortune cookies, for how long I have left to live. Padmasambhava's invocation helps me bear in mind that - I do not have. I do not understand, I do not know - what the future holds. This should be painted across the dawn sky of every day. Because time fritters away, despite my intentions for it to be otherwise. 

In the run up to the anniversary, I found myself amidst the high point of the heatwave, becoming despondent and frustratedly angry. Time spent in the shadow of a heart attack, can sometimes make me far too precious about not wasting time. I wasn't finding enough productive time to work on my art projects. I felt to be constantly having my attention drawn elsewhere. And though this was all true to a degree , despondency ( well it is pretty much my oldest friend ) returned to undermine any artistic resolve and creative impulse I might have. At its worst, attacking the very act of creation itself. Who after all was this for? What was it all in aid of ? Isn't it just so much easier to not do it at all? Pointing towards its lack of utility and rationally putting a stop to art altogether. 

Then I watched an old documentary of Hockney in old age returning to his native Yorkshire. He said, with his usual casual bluntness, that he found no point at all in dwelling on the imminence or otherwise of his death, and just kept coming back to his creativity as being the best thing he could do with his time. Which made me feel a whole lot better about my own art practice. Creating art has intrinsic value to the artist. Art may have no practical use, but that doesn't make it meaningless. It requires nothing else from you, than that you turn up and do it.

Last year on the first anniversary of my heart attack I took myself off, on a very hot day, to Walsingham. I remember having rather too heightened an expectation of it. This year, I decided a repeat journey to Walsingham was required, but in a more relaxed and less needy manner. I'd just turn up for whatever it offered. The weather forecast was for an extremely hot day, between 28- 30 degrees Celsius. So I'd have to play it by ear, just how much being baked by it I was up for. Two bus journeys later I was stepping off in Walsingham.  There was a cooling breeze as I headed out towards Great Walsingham. As I set off, a very odd thing happened, a three legged dog came running down the street past me, purposefully belting along on an urgent mission. Slightly bemused I carried on. I have since realised that this incident metaphorically gave physical form to how I've been feeling about my spiritual life recently.  You can definitely get a fairway in Buddhism using three legs, but the sense of something being amputated from it, like a fourth leg, seems eventually inescapable. Buddhism, for all its self evident value to me, has started to feel like that. Lacking in an essential fourth leg. Enlightenment is not a thing you can talk to or relate with on a human level. It's an ideal, practically and imaginatively, disconnected from where I am, on the other side of it. I am like a dog running fast on three legs, confusing speed with purpose.

The road to Great Walsingham is actually very beautiful.  The village itself is the definition of picturesque, with its tree lined streets, dappled shade, and a bridged path crossing a forded stream. You do wonder how undervalued Great Walsingham's Parish Church must feel, when there has always been so many bigger grander buildings, just down the road from you. Once you emerge onto the green you see ahead of you a small former Victorian Methodist Chapel, converted into The Orthodox Church of The Holy Transfiguration. With its icon painted tympanum over the entrance door. Inside is a tiny undiscovered gem of a church. Bedecked with numerous icons and traditional iconostasis screen. It possess a charm and magical feel uniquely all its own. I took plenty of photos, picked up a leaflet about an online course to discover what Orthodoxy is all about, and left.

I took the back road from Great Walsingham toward its larger relative Little Walsingham, and the Anglican Shrine Church. I have a long term objective to 'church lark' all the main religious buildings in Walsingham. I've taken photos of the Shrine Church before, but never with a view for giving you an overall sense of it. Phone camera at the ready I made a start. But after a while I realised my heart wasn't really in it. This was not why I was here today. I was here to pray, give thanks and express my gratitude for another year of life. So I put my phone camera away.

The Shrine itself is a recreation, conceived right down to the original proportions, of the medieval shrine. Over the years I've become closely familiar with it.  I lit a couple of candles and after some hesitation decided to kneel down and pray. Just as I was getting my head around the idea of starting, - in walked a priest. Who came right over,  stood right next to me shuffling and sorting through paperwork, as though I wasn't  really there. I suddenly got the sense that perhaps here was not going to be the right place to do what I felt I needed to. The Anglican Shrine is like this, I have frequently found it too busy as a place. Even though it requests silence, it is very prone to the activity and noise generated by tourists, school parties, congregations for its services and priests, apparently. This is rarely a place of serenity and stillness, for quiet contemplation. So I left, had some lunch, and prepared myself to walk the Holy Mile to the Slipper Chapel.

The top pathway to the Slipper Chapel, with its panoramic landscapes, has very little shade to protect you from the sun. So I took the low road, which though busy with traffic, has a stream that runs alongside it and is regularly shrouded in shade from its trees. Though only a mile, the heat of the day was now high. So by the time I reached the Slipper Chapel I was a very over heated sweaty pilgrim. It was then, a far from unflustered person who sat down in the Chapel.  It took a while just to arrive, to externally and inwardly cool myself down the best I could. Until I felt prepared and fully present enough to kneel down by the communion rail to pray.

I have no remembered experience, as an adult, of having prayed in a church before. Though I must have done so in my Church of England Primary School days, and when I was a chorister. And here I was, now about to pray, it felt an odd thing for a sixty nine year old Buddhist to be doing, After all who do I imagine I am praying too? I read recently about the simplest form of prayer, it is structured similar to the Metta Bhavana, you start with yourself, move your attention outward to family and friends and to the world. And that was how I got myself engaged with it. What I prayed for was between me, Our Lady, God and the universe. It started and ended with a feeling of gratitude. As I sat back in my chair, this felt like an extremely important and beautiful thing to have done. 

As I sat there feeling satisfied, my attention was being distracted by a large fluttering butterfly up in the altar canopy above. It was flying into the chapel, then back towards the stained glass and on hitting this immovable surface, flew back out again. Doing this over and over again. As I gazed upwards transfixed with this, a sudden instruction erupted into my mind - You must write about this. Grabbing my phone, I opened the Notes App and began hurriedly writing for a minute or so in one long unpunctuated paragraph of whatever came into my head. Afterwards I felt this huge sensation of uplift and elation, that's still there every time I re-read it.

Here it is. The only thing I've done subsequently has been punctuate, correct grammar, insert one phrase and rephrase another for better comprehension. Some sentences feel to require further reflection on my part to unpack them further. Here I leave them as they are. 

' The butterfly newly re-born knows not where to go, nor how to be, so it flutters around bumping into things, sometimes the same things repeatedly. But like stained glass whose beauty attracts your attention, you cannot batter your way through it. Beauty can become an obstacle, as well as a lure. Beauty can be misleading, we can assume goodness  if someone or something is beautiful. Beauty can be just beauty, not a portal to something else. Until the butterfly comes to know its own form better, it  should settle on a tree and be supported by that. Until the day it is clear what its purpose is in the shadow land on the approaches to death. All death is a portal to another death, for death is a form of transformation. Its how you transition from one state to another.'

UNFINISHED READING - The Mystical Thought of Meister Eckhardt by Bernard McGinn

This has been in my Book Pile for quite some time. So long, I can't quite remember when it first arrived, probably eighteen months ago. However, I found myself reticent to tackle it, in case it was really theologically too much for me. As it turned out, it was. I got halfway and skipped a whole chapter exploring the difference between God 'boiling over' and God 'boiling through' and I just thought- 'You know, this is not a distinction that has bothered me before, and I'm not going to start now.'

The book has been full of similarly detailed, and no doubt thorough, expositions of what Eckhardt's philosophic/mystical writings were supposedly about. Early on, I got the feeling, that perhaps I really should have bought a book with a selection of his teachings, rather than an academic commentary by a confirmed Eckhardt geek like McGinn. Nothing against the guy, he must know what he is on about, I presume. Had I read some Eckhardt cold beforehand, I'd know whether this book was genuinely further enlightening, or not. For most of the time I was struggling to sustain following his analysis,arguments and explanations. In these sorts of conditions, the quote from Eckhardt's writings I tended to find more lucid than the academic explanation, which merely, to my untrained eyes, succeeded in muddying the water further.

I suspect that this may be another serious case of my further cultivating an antipathy towards Christian theology. This often reads as a series of assertions about the nature of Jesus and God, which are either true and I'm just a bit too thick to fully grasp why that is so, or they are actually preposterous claims that no amount of convoluted exegesis is going to convince me otherwise. If I had a phenomenally clever mind I'd know which it was. It may come down to the specificity of theological language.

Over the years I've been willing to push the envelope of my intellectual limitations a fair way beyond it's comfort zone. Quite often to obtain the general gist, even if the precise detail still escapes me. But I have come to recognise when I've reached the actual limit of my ability to follow and comprehend what the heck someone is trying to communicate. As my brain cells get deeper fried in lard. Yes, it is humbling, to have to say I don't know what this guy is rambling at such length about. But this too, is good for me. 

This may be theological wank or the most profound thing I've never understood. If only I had the sort of brain that could systematically deconstruct things, then I'd be able to explain in very lucid refined terms, why it is all wank. And I'd feel much better, or at least less prone to self justification. Instead of using the increased volume of dismissive curses as my expression of how wrong it is. As it is, I have to trust my gut intuition, which may of course be merely dyspeptic indigestion.

CARROT REVIEW - 3/8

INSIGNIFICANT MOMENTS IN THE FOLDS OF TIME - Tricycle Tales

The outrageous pumping of his desperate little heart. The determined turning of his hips, knees and ankles joints, madly whirling round and round and round and round the wobbly shank and it's peddles. Breath more belaboured and heavier with the purposefulness of his youthful exertion. The sweat beading on his brow. Accompanied by the most cacophonous of noises, caused by the stones and various odd objects, gems he'd collected, thrown into the tin boot to tumble around in one immense aggregated rattle. All in imitation of those large empty dump trucks he loved, that hurtled by his home clanging, banging and explosively booming, like anarchic drummers announcing the pitted unevenness of the road on which he lived.

This activity felt too wonderful, fully exhilarating, the most alive any 'not yet a five year old boy' could ever experience. This young boy and his tricycle, had for a moment become furiously focused, one piece of united energy. Who could have known such short legs, with so little muscle, could generate this amount of momentum. But to his boyhood imagination the sense of propulsion and speed felt immense, utterly intoxicating. He wanted much more of racing along the pavements hell for leather. Then an adult hand caught him, and brought it all to an abrupt stop. 

It was always like this it seemed, some adult, usually a parent, spoiled the fun. To them it was all about stopping him, making him consider the effect of his actions upon other people, that he needed to be more respectful. It was, after all, early afternoon, and lovely kind Mrs Greenwood would be having her afternoon nap. They'd completely over rule his excuses. Downplaying the value of his enjoyment. For one moment he had been riding his tricycle without a care in the world. Now could that ever have been wrong? Adults were relentless spoilsports, trying to force him to feel guilty. And there were tears, but more out of a sense of loss. Grieving for this one blissful moment in his life, now trashed and sullied. Apparently the problem with him was he did not think. And so he'd cried, but did so with such an angry pout of disapproval on his face. They had ruined his entire day. He'd been, and still was to his mind, guilt free, enjoyably pedaling his tricycle around and around the block, along pavements, up and down cobbled snickets and back alleys, between the terraces. They'd obviously forgotten what that was like.

Going round the block, this was his race track, around which he was timing himself. But for some reason adults, they always wanted to get him to 'stop making that bloody racket' They always swore, and his Mum always said it wasn't clever to swear. Rude language, was vulgar, indicating a lack of intelligence. Poor vocabulary spoke volumes about who you were. He never understood a lot of that. Why was it adults could swear and he couldn't? This he could not comprehend. The racket, the noise, was what made this particular form of playfulness special. It was what adding all the stones and objects was all about. To see what difference they made to the overall sound. The stones were cargo, that needed delivering, and he was now behind with that delivery, thank you very much. He had to catch up, if he was ever to be on time. 

The metal tricycle had once been a spanking new red. Now it was seriously dented and scuffed, some of the battered pock marks were beginning to rust badly from being left out in the rain. His Mother was already firing warning shots about him out growing it, and the time to throw it away. He had not, at first, recognised the possibilities a tricycle gave him. Perhaps initially too young for it, his legs did not quite meet the pedals right. It had felt as though it required too much effort. But a mere few months later, suddenly it all clicked, exactly what a tricycle could do. At first he was endlessly cycling up and down the pavement in front of his home. It was only when he went up and down the echoing cobbled snicket for the first time, that it's acoustic possibilities became the decisive revelation of love. What an immensely pleasurable noise that was, as you were shaken and bounced up and down over every little minor cobble and rut. 

He ventured further afield, to discover what different surfaces and places looked and sounded like. One day he got so carried away with his peddling, he actually reached the very limit of his road. Never having ventured this far before, he started to feel uneasy, out of his depth and a teeny weeny bit scared. He scanned what was at the road's end, spotting a few things he'd like to explore later, on another day, when he was feeling braver. Aware, on this occasion, that it was probably nearing tea time, and he really ought to be heading for home.

His Mother took him with her on a shopping trip into town the following day, what a tedious waste of time that was to 'a not yet five year old boy" intent on adventure. Consequently he was only able to perform the return journey, a few days later, back to the road's end On his previous glance around, he'd spotted a row of semi-dilapidated garages on the corner opposite. He reached these easily, part pushing with his feet, part waddling across with the tricycle still placed between his legs. To the right of these garages was a lowish stone wall, one he knew he could easily climb. This turned out to look down onto the railway cutting and shunting yards, things he'd only heard before, never actually seen. They were incredibly close, so near he could wave to the drivers. And he spent many a subsequent idle afternoon, hanging around just watching these magnificent beasts, with massive engines moving back and forth. Occasionally older boys, ones he didn't know, turned up. They'd hassle and teased him too much, that he started to clear off home sharpish the moment he saw them heading in his direction. 

There were, of course, other places to explore. He could see them in the distance, over the other side of the wide road junction, where the main road out of town split off in two directions. Could he cycle over there? He'd give it a try. Setting a determined chin peddling his tricycle furiously across this main road. With such intensely that he hit the kerb opposite with great force, and was nearly thrown over the handle bars. Quickly heaving the tricycle off the road, he reviewed whether there was any lasting damage. Well, none that he could see. And having finally arrived there, he could take in the bank of allotments the other side of a shallow stone wall, the suggestion of a valley beyond them. These all were enticing. He couldn't possibly drag a tricycle all that way, so what was he going to do with it?  Improvising a hiding place behind a hedge, and hoped that that would be enough for it to remain secret. 

There were a few adults pottering around the allotments, so he'd need to behave like the Indian tracker he saw on TV. Keeping low, move slow and quietly. There'd obviously been children here before him, with a well flattened grass path to crawl around the back of the allotments. And then that path suddenly veered downhill. You could fully see the heather on the top moor opposite, and how the road curled in the valley beneath it. Having rapidly descended, the path curved horizontally across the slope until it came to a soot blackened granite shelf of rock that stuck out dramatically, what the boy instantly christened 'the cave'. He hung around entranced by his discovery for seemingly an age, looking out at the hills opposite, rapt in his imaginative reveries. Until again he started to feel on edge, nervous about it getting dark soon, of being here on his own, that maybe he hadn't hidden his tricycle well enough, what if he couldn't find it?  What time was it now? Suddenly hitting the panic button, he pelted as fast as his legs could carry him, passed the allotments, back to his tricycle hidey hole, back across the road junction. 

By the time he'd reached home, the panic attack had subsided and he was on full beam with the sheer joy of today's adventuring. His Mother was waiting for him, standing by the back door looking bad tempered and cross. He'd been seen by a neighbour cycling across that busy main road, what was he thinking? There was a hard slap across the thigh. He was to stay at home for the rest of the week. This one incident proved to be the death knell for the tricycle. But the young boy 'not yet five years old'  quickly got over mourning it's loss. He wasn't visibly angry or sulking, well, maybe invisibly he was, just a little. After all, he was now ready to move on to pastures new, he'd found himself a cave.

PROTEST & PROGRESS - The Pilgrimage of Grace

My purpose in writing this Protest & Progress blog post, is to explore for myself the history of English Protest Movements. What effect they had, and the changes they may ( or may not ) have instigated. Today, it's The Pilgrimage of Grace.

1536 - THE PILGRIMAGE OF GRACE

For the first twenty years of Henry 8th's reign he was the handsome youthful monarch who charmed his subjects. Though undoubtedly a cultured man, he ebulliently overindulged his extravagant tastes. His desire to divorce Katherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boylen entailed a split with Rome. His ambitions in France led to expensive wars which got him no where. The state of royal finances plummeted, and the country began to look on him less favourably. What turned all these factors into a people's rebellion was the dissolution of the monasteries. 

It's hard for us, in our more secular times, to realise quite what an upheaval to the social fabric of 16th century England the dissolution was. Though the people had their issues with the way the monasteries behaved in relation to the local economy, these were institutions deeply embedded in their spiritual and economic lives. Monasteries provided social support through distributing alms, it's infirmary dispensed medicines and cared for the sick, besides generally ministering to the spiritual needs of the local area. The economy of a village or town undoubtedly thrived through supplying monasteries with goods, and bought bread and ale from them in return. Monasteries often became the site for a local weekly market, usually in its outer courtyard. The dissolution happened incredibly swiftly, within the space of roughly five years all of the monasteries were brought into the state of being ruins. Some buildings were converted into barns, parish churches or cathedrals. It was as though a wrecking ball had been swung through the heart of English society and it's religious culture smashed.

The rebellion,The Pilgrimage of Grace, had hence a multiplicity of economic causes, aggravated by the removal of monasteries from the local economy, without a thought for what the knock on consequences of that would be. The Pilgrimage of Grace became widespread with a rag bag alliance of grievances riding under one spiritual banner. It tapped into a huge amount of suppressed discontent in the country. Thomas Cromwell, as the designer of the dissolution, was the focus of it's ire. But let's be clear here, Henry was no longer that popular, nor held in high esteem by his people. His divorce was widely disapproved of, as was the split with Rome. He was becoming increasingly tyrannical, so it maybe not be deference, but more likely fear that made the rebels resist openly criticising him. 

What had started as a little local difficulty in Lincolnshire, easily suppressed in the October, then broke out in Yorkshire, Cumberland, Northumberland and Durham. Robert Aske a London lawyer from North Yorkshire was chosen to bring leadership to the incipient rebellion. Under his guidance 9,000 rebels marched south and occupied York with relative ease. By the time they'd reached Doncaster the number of rebels was approximately 40,000. This was by far the largest rebellion of the Tudor era. The Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Shrewsbury were despatched to negotiate at Pontefract Castle. Aske helped the rebels compose their requests to the King. A document called 'The Commons Petition'. This contained twenty four demands, and was given to the Duke of Norfolk in December 1536.

It's estimated Norfolk and Shrewsbury's forces together totaled 12,000 men, so with a growing rebel force three times that, they faced being massacred if they were to try suppressing the rebellion. Norfolk attempted to placate the rebels by disingenuously stating the petition would be presented to the King, that there would be a general pardon, and the monastery closures would be halted til Parliament had met to discuss them. With these promises Aske was persuaded to disband the rebellion. Sir Francis Bigod, rightly as it turned out, was not convinced the King would honour Norfolk's promises. Without taking Aske's advice, he led his own minor rebellion in February 1537. This was the opportunity that Norfolk was looking for, brutally suppressing Bigod's rebellion, arresting both him and Robert Aske. Aske was hanged in chains in York. Bigod was hanged at Tyburn in London. A total of 216 rebel activists were executed, many if them nobility. Martial law was imposed across all the regions that had partaken in the Pilgrimage of Grace.

Historians argue about to what degree this was a popular revolt arising out of a genuine disquiet, and how much the involvement of significant nobility gave it more credence and hence popular backing from the common people. I would say choosing Robert Aske, a lawyer, to lead them had significance in this regard. That he was able to help in the formulating of 'The Commons Petition' a properly drawn up document from the people to their King, presenting their demands. It was more likely that Catholic minded nobility were piggy backing on the people's revolt. The more they were seen as instigating the people to rebel, the worse it would be for them. The rebels saw themselves as The Commons, the common people, with a common land, and a common faith, as a remnant of the medieval Catholic society that they saw the dissolution as casually defenestrating  A petition from common people to their King, was the only way  to present their views. 

Sure, this was not the first time rebels had proffered a petition to a King, but there was something distinctly intentional and formal about how this one was being presented as coming from 'the Commons'. What we see in the Pilgrimage of Grace, is that this was not primarily a revolt over unfair taxes, but the beginnings of common people demanding their views be heard and taken into account in how society developed. After all, their lives and belief system had been completely upended, with no thought given to their feelings, wishes or the effect upon their lives.The disquiet here in 1536 amongst ordinary common people, only becomes more frustrated, intemperate and demanding over the next century.

Next episode - 1549 The Kett's Rebellion