The Cross Speaks!
The Dream Of The Rood
Happy Easter one and all! Let all conceivable rocks be rolled away, let us all see keenly into the nature of things with a Magdalene eye. I write from Devon a day just before today – as it were – where the clouds have gathered, the burner has been rebooted and I can neither confirm nor deny an electric blanket may have been utilised in the creation of this essay. Berry-large rain drops have smeared my window and rooks flop about in a nearby field. My flask of coffee has stayed warm throughout the night and so is unofficially sponsoring these very early morning words. Later I will pad down through the house and watch again Tarkovsky’s Andrei Rublev. If you have some time, turn off the phone, draw the curtains, stoke the fire and sink into the slow wandering majesty of this most extraordinary film.
It’s less than three weeks now till I arrive in Canada for two weeks - To Fall Beautifully From The Edge Of The World is the name for the wider endeavour.
As well as bringing a long excursion into the epic of Parzival, we have Gawain & The Green Knight coming along for the party and a quiver of new fairy tales I’ve only just started exploring. I’m excited. Spring can be a great time to travel and dust off the last vestiges of winter. I’m sorry I’m not coming to your town.
I went INTO the river to pray. Delighted to assist in the baptism of my friend Duncan yesterday. Let this moment be with you always D.
So….this week we have segments of a new version of the poem The Dream Of The Rood, and a reflection from my seat in the leathered hull of the recent Skinboat & The Star – starting up again this September.
I’ll start with a confession: I’ve often attempted to read the old Anglo-Saxon poem The Dream Of The Rood and barely made it through. Earnest language and tons of non-too startling heavenly descriptions quickly made my eyes glaze over. However, there is an original and very moving idea at its centre. What I present here is not the full poem but a distilled version I compressed – mainly for my own benefit – to hopefully get a clearer picture of its essence. You can find a loyal translation here: The Dream of the Rood.
No one quite knows who wrote it, I have it in a book of Cynewulf poems, though others have argued it may be Caedmon. Some scholars place it firmly in the 7th century as time of composition. Parts of it can be found on the Scottish Ruthwell Cross and all of it’s in the Italian Vercelli Book. It’s a Christian poem though features a talking cross. This nod towards some kind of panentheism is thought to be a kind of bridging device between the Anglo-Saxon Gods and the new arriving Christ. The Saxons would have been fond of a nature in full disclosure. You may remember this kind of approach from back in October when I wrote about The Heliand as an Anglo-Saxon amalgamation of the four gospels. That begins like this: