Another viewpoint!

[Covey]

A review of Christopher Howse's 'A Pilgrim in Spain' which is to be published next year by Continuum.

There can be few spectacles more repellent than a pair of bronzen-kneed Dutch cyclists in skimpy shorts flopping on the granite paving stones of the Plaza del Obradoiro in Santiago, congratulating themselves on having pedalled 500 miles from the Pyrenees. Why can't they catch the plane like good Christian folk?
Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is more popular than ever, with 250,000 people expected in the little city in north-western Spain this year. Most of them seem to write a book about it. They come on horseback, in wheelchairs, in kayaks from the sea.
There's nothing wrong with Santiago – a little like Oxford, except that it rains much more. It's the pilgrims' motives that are deeply suspect. Some want to prove their toughness, others to find an antidote to their dreadful, daily office-lives. Many preen themselves on their tiny carbon footprints. Worst of all are those who get in touch with their inner selves, which, judging by their outer selves is no enviable destination.
The champion of the pilgrimage that misses the point must be Shirley Maclaine, who in Camino, about her walk to Santiago,manages to combine ley lines, reincarnation, chakras and aliens, all of them with special reference to herself. "I remembered how affected I had been when I read Ezekiel and other books of the Bible that seemed to describe spacecraft," she adds as if by explanation.
By comparison, the lanes of Kent are not quite so crowded with North-Face-swaddled hikers on their way to Canterbury, although I see that Chaucer has been invoked this week in lawsuit about a right of way. He, of course, was perfectly aware of the human motives that intermingled with piety in his pilgrims, but he got their main function right: to seek the holy, blessed martyr, who had helped them when they were sick.
That supposes a pre-existent relationship between the pilgrim and the holy destination – in this case the tomb of Thomas Becket, killed by supporters of Henry II in 1170. For the pilgrims, any prayers or masses or penances on their way to honour the saint would be bonuses. The point of the pilgrimage was the fact itself: it was a performative act – like swearing an oath – effective just by doing it. Forget the inner pilgrim trying to get out.
Any journey can be made a pilgrimage: Salamanca, say, which is a fine university city on the scorching meseta of Castile, built of golden stone on a ridge above a clear river spanned by a Roman bridge. There's an excellent restaurant called Chez Victor just behind the most elegant square in the world. Sounds agreeable, doesn't it? But it so happens that the city also boasts one of the first churches dedicated to St Thomas of Canterbury, built in 1175, five years after his death and two after his rapid canonisation.
It is a pretty little Romanesque church, with a triple apse and curious carvings. You'll be lucky to find it open. But if it can be made a destination for pilgrimage, it gives a point, a goal to the journey to Salamanca and makes Victor's wild boar taste the wilder and the morning sol y sombra (brandy and anis) in the shade of the sunny square taste the fierier.
I am not advocating a trick – to pretend to be a pilgrim to spice up your vulturine culture diet. The hope is that by aiming at the definite and external, you can avoid the deadly sin of the slow and sweaty pilgrim: self-absorption.
The latest variant on the medieval model is that the saint comes to you. That happened last year, when the relics of St Therèse of Lisieux, in a tasteful box, arrived in London for a spell at Westminster Cathedral. Later, they toured the land. I was sceptical about this gimmick.
In the event, a visit to the cathedral in the middle of the night proved memorable. It was not dark, for there were lights and candles, and it was not silent in the sense of being without sound, for people came in and filed past and sat down and said their prayers quietly. Yet the impression was one of night and tranquillity, and more than those, of focus.
There had been a great queue down the street to see the relics of St Therèse, but I found myself a few days later in Segovia, at the tomb of St John of the Cross. That, too, was a place of tranquillity, but there was no one else present on a weekday afternoon. It was possible to sit there for half an hour without interruption, and, as with the St Therèse gig, free of charge.
Mind you, St John of the Cross was having no nonsense. It's not about you, but about God. A pilgrim "will sometimes experience intense desires and longings to return", he warns in The Ascent of Mount Carmel. "But on returning, that person discovers that the place is not what it was before." It is not all feeling lovely, or even of watching the rush of the botamfumeiro at Santiago, the seven-stone silver thurible, hurtling down on its 70ft rope towards you like a steam train, trailing streamers of fire and smoke. That is fun, but turning on the thrills, as if at Thorpe Park, is not the essence of pilgrimage.
The thing is just to make the pilgrimage, begin to ascend Mount Carmel, and never mind the consequences. It might not put you in touch with your inner child, but it's an endeavour that's honest.
Christopher Howse's 'A Pilgrim in Spain' is published next year by Continuum.

[InOrlando]

"A pilgrim 'will sometimes experience intense desires and longings to return,'" you wrote.
This sums up my days lately: daydreaming of my Camino.
Thank you for sharing this, Covey. I think you hit the nail on the head at least twice more, too:
1. ". . . avoid the deadly sin of . . . self-absorption"
2. "It's not about you, but about God."
Thanks; these are wise words.

[Covey]

Sadly, I am not bright enough to have written the above, but it was a review/short précis of a forthcoming book by Christopher Howse.

My only skill in this was a simple cut and paste job!!!

[InOrlando]

That's OK, Covey:
I am grateful that you posted it.

[unadara]

Love this Covey, I read Shirley's book many years ago, having read Nicholas Luard and Bettina Selbys (I think)-it was such a laugh!! This review might even lead one to buy this book. I look forward to my "being there" in Sept.
Una

[Covey]

If you want a good read try: Travels with My Donkey: One Man and His Ass on a Pilgrimage to Santiagoby Tim Moore.

Very amusing!

[unadara]

If you want a good read try: Travels with My Donkey: One Man and His Ass on a Pilgrimage to Santiagoby Tim Moore.

Very amusing!

YOU WON'T believe this but I have this book for years and didn't read it! had forgotten it was about the Pilgrim Way as on the spine it just reads Spanish Steps-now I know what I am doing this weekend-I am so grateful to this forum...happy, happy, happy....

[Buffalo Girl]

No offense, Covey, but that passage was a bitch to read. I have no clue if he likes people or hates them, clearly he is pretty full of himself and that wind he was blowing came right out his arse.

[Anso]

Buffalo Girl, you are spot on! Covey you should be pleased you did not pen that yourself, that was a negative, judgemental and somewhat arrogant review, although the “just to it” tone at the end, might get Nikes trainers interested in Camino merchandising.


In my humble opinion the Camino de Santiago was at one time a Roman catholic pilgrimage, however today for many people it's more like a spiritual journey than a religious one, and for a significant number its a simply a pressure valve.


As evidence of the dilution of religion from the camino, I put forward the suggestion that santiago is more of a way-point than the goal for a lot of pilgrims and that sunset in Finisterre is becoming a more popular closure point for the New Pilgrims Journey (sounds like a good name for my book!).


For these pilgrims it's an opportunity to stop and not worry about the next mortgage payment, or the children’s education, or if work projects are “on time, on target or if ever possible on budget”.


It's where good decent people, who do the work/life balancing act, who pay their bills on time and strive to do the best for the loved ones. Have a chance to take some time away from all this and have a few weeks of freedom. It takes a lot of careful planning and when you consider equipment it is no insignificant cost to achieve, a Camino is not a cheap holiday.


The rewards for these peoples efforts, is to see some of the beauty in the world, beyond the view from the grimy windows during the daily commute. When on the path, there is no plans from human resources to streamline, downsize or reduce future pension costs, by engineering redundancy for staff over 50. These pilgrims can speak their mind without of fear of attack or unemployment in this increasingly employer centric world.


They actually have time to reflect, perhaps share their fears with each other and in doing so lighten each other load just a little. Casting aside life’s usual competitive rivalry they will rejoice in the success of their fellow pilgrims.


During those few precious weeks, these awful bronzen kneed wheel-chair bound kayakers, who perish the thought, are not doing the pilgrimage for God. They free their minds, maybe learn to be a little truer to themselves and those around them.


Who knows they may just make some deep and lasting friendships along the way. Which with a little reminiscing, via the odd email, twitter or Facebook account, mayt make that daily grind on there return just a little easier.


Well done to those bronzed kneed Dutch cyclists! But perhaps you're not welcome at the Santiago Inn, next stop Finisterre.