Janina Ramirez opens the book with a question - What was a saint in Anglo Saxon England? Whilst today we might envisage a saint as someone extremely holy, pious and a moral exemplar. To the post Roman world of England, a saint could actually be quite a controversial person, exhibiting a troubling mix of behaviours, both good and bad. Who became a saint was dependent upon, and indeed bequeathed by, their belonging to an elite class. Not necessarily by any reputational standing in the wider society. There were many reasons for someone to be declared a saint. Broadly they'd achieved something which changed and reformed the direction their society took, in a significant way. And this may or may not have been solely a matter of religious practice.
The Private Lives of the Saints, as a title is slightly misleading, because what is written here is not really about revealing their intimate private lives. It's what is known, the stuff that was out in the public arena at the time, whatever survived to be noted in documentary, historical or archeological form. Because this is the era of the Anglo-Saxons we are talking about here, that is notoriously thin on written history and leaves few traces in the ground. Much of what they created was bio-degradable by nature. They were also not a widely literate society.
From 450 through to 1066 there was a gradual emergence from this informational black hole, but it was slow. Ramirez has hence chosen her saints carefully, as examples of how the very concept of sainthood adjusted during this period. They mark significant points in both the development of sainthood and the broader society. And as we advance through, who they were and what they actually did, becomes less a matter of dissecting the myth or hagiography looking for something that maybe verifiably true. Until it becomes an examinable history and a legacy one can have more of an informed opinion about.
So the first saints on her list, St Alban and St Brigid presented as actual living figures, are seemingly semi mythical archetypes. St Alban, as England's first martyr and saint, emerges from the chaos of a Roman Empire in decline, about to retreat from the British Isles altogether. St Alban performs the archytypal saintmaking act, of dying for his faith. And yet that Christian faith appears to have been inflected with elements that were pagan or Roman in origin. We are still in an era where Christianity could still go through periods of persecution. And martyrdom on the basis of your faith, remained a realistic cross for you to die on and become a saint through. St Brigid, however, though reported to have founded institutions and influenced the development of Celtic Christian monasticism, is also very clearly a cross fertilised construct. A hybrid of a Christian saint with a preexisting pagan goddess. Both figures highlight a period where conversions were made by forging imaginative bridges between pagan and Christian beliefs.
It became the essential path for Christian proselytising, that on entering a foreign culture, you attempted to convert the tribal nobility, kings or queens first. For then the general populace was more likely to follow. This was also where the money was too, if you wanted patronage to found a church or monastery. This was also a more secure longer term investment, personal land could be taken away, but put your money and a relative into a religious foundation you still have influence over, that was insurance. And it's clear that it was solely individuals of Anglo Saxon noble stock, who were the ones who became the Abbots, Abbesses, Bishops and Archbishops of these new religious foundations. Often running both secular and spiritual institutions. And so you find St Columba and St Cuthbert who both appear to have awkwardly straddled these two differing worlds and pressures of responsibilities. In comparison to the lives of the Anglo Saxon peasant, the life of a nun say in Whitby Abbey during the time of Abbess Hilda, was refined rather than ascetic, and lacked none of the basic essentials of life. Monastic standards of living were high relative to the general population. To a degree, austerities became a fashionable trend, mostly it was for real, but in some it was a significant affectation. Almost always assuring you of sainthood after your death.
The Viking attack upon Lindisfarne in 793 AD, shifted the entire focus of the Anglo-Saxon world in England. The relatively calmer period of saints and semi-isolated monastic piety ended, and the emphasis became the role of kings in defending Christian values against the advancing pagan hoards. And so we find the kingly martyr St Edmund and more importantly Alfred, who though undoubtedly saintly, was postumously given the epithet The Great. He almost singlehandedly created the role model for the saintly king, that any future ruler must aspire too. This is also the period of Bede, a hugely significant figure, as the first historical chronicler of English history. Again not a saint, but given the epithet The Venerable, in recognition of the national and international consequences of his work. By the time we reach Edward the Confessor, who was a phenomenally pious ruler, he was made into the quintessential Saint of England by history, despite actually making a bit of a mess of his kingship. But by then the age of the Anglo Saxon saint king was already waining. England had already been ruled by Viking kings, so the country was up for grabs. If you had the power and military force, like the Norman's had. And who were the Normans anyway, but Scandinavians by another name. So by the time of 1066 and William the Conqueror's invasion, the age of the Anglo Saxon saint or saint king had already well and truly passed.
This book is a really captivating gem, full of snippets of information I'd never heard of before. I didn't know, for instance, that Abbess Hild was responsible for making the Anglo Saxon Cross such a widely used and recognised symbol in the English landscape. Unlike Alice Robert's Domination, who approached this period from the angle of the development and expansion of Roman Catholicism, post Constantine, which I read recently. Ramirez keeps her skeptical interpretations on a much tighter rein, and does her best to present simply and plainly the known facts about a saint or king. Leaving you to judge, from the often limited information available, what has most likely been the case. How much you are willing to give these much lauded saints the benefit of the doubt.
These saints do strike you as hugely admirable pioneers nonetheless. When you consider the tricky situations and power dynamics they must have found themselves in. What treacherous paths to clinching a conversion they trod, when a tribal nobleman might take against you at any moment. But because they came from the same echelons of Anglo-Saxon society, they had a much better idea of what diplomatic levers they could pull in order to reach their ultimate aim. This was such a transitional time in the history of England, often shrouded behind the heavy fog or being called the dark ages, ro which this book brings some much needed illumination.
CARROT REVIEW - 6/8
No comments:
Post a Comment