Showing posts with label Ur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ur. Show all posts

Wednesday 6 December 2017

Book


It gives me a strange satisfaction to find that I have finished another book that sits on the pile in front of me.  That pile anyway is one less the other piles of books still to be read have not gone down much.  
I have always liked Henry Canova Vollam Morton in spite of his rather bullish nature.  I suspect that is a requirement in journalism and he got off to a good start not only by being the son of an editor but by announcing the scoop of Tutankhamen's tomb being opened before the 'Times' man who had the rights could do so.  He then became famous for his travel books, around London then England, Scotland and elsewhere.  In the 30's he travelled through the Holy Land, a much easier enterprise then than now as the British Mandate allowed travel across borders in a manner impossible today.  Having discovered books about Jesus and Paul sold well he then decided on a further expedition in the late 30's. 

'While I was travelling in the Holy Land...the desire grew on me to make a Christian pilgrimage from the Euphrates to the Nile, and into Sinai, and to tell the story of the Christian life of the Near East,'

It had nothing to do with making money, honest guv. 
I looked forward to this book as I love the ancient lands, especially those usually ignored in the far south of what is today Iraq, the ancient land of 'Sumer,' often classed as 'Babylonia.'   It was a book I wished to read years ago.


Landing at Alexandretta in French controlled Lebanon Morton travels to Aleppo the town today thrashed by civil war intending to visit once popular pilgrimage sites including the pillar upon which sat one Simon Stylites Simon early chose a severe form of asceticism which saw him barred from monastic life and he ended up sitting high up on his pillar apart from the world, continuing his austere life but constantly queried by people wishing answers to problems.  He remained there for 37 years.  I must say while many followed him or ventured into monastic or hermit style life I see no biblical reason for this and wonder about those who chose this life.  Morton appears fascinated by them and as he travels follows his normal routine of discovering historical connections with each place, some of these are intriguing and others just worrying!


Continuing to Palmyra an ancient city made famous by ISIS destroying it Morton came upon a bus! 
Intrepid travellers who hitch a lift from a sheik (or claim to - he is a somewhat romantic writer) then discover a bus that just happens to have stopped to pick up passengers in Palmyra are doing very well I say. 
The Nairn Transport Company began in 1923 when a couple of New Zealanders who had served there during the war began a car service between Haifa and Beirut.  By the late thirties they were driving cars and then buses across the desert roads from Baghdad to Damascus.  The French and British authorities were delighted as many personnel were thus able to travel the vast distances in some degree of comfort, camels can be a bit slow.  
Half way across they stopped at Rutba Fort and eat an English dinner in an impeccable English dining room in the middle of the desert, this brought out the xenophobia in Morton!  The Empire had some advantages.
In Baghdad Morton again waxes lyrical about English influence on Iraq especially when he notices an 'English' bookshop.  What sort of 'English' bookshop would have the name 'MacKenzie' above the door escapes me.  It does appear British influence was stronger in Iraq that French influence in Syria, at least according to our author.
In Baghdad he watches from the window, lights out, of the Shia flagellantes as they pass by late at night.  The house belongs to Chaldean Christians, a type almost unknown now after years of needless war.  Morton is fascinated by the intricacies of these worshippers marching by slowly and as he does elsewhere goes into details we often see on our TV, if the news can show many dead alongside.

 
From his hotel our hero takes a taxi to Babylon passing the noticeable railway station 'Babylon Halt.' 
Clambering over the then dusty mounds he appraises the mud brick remains and reminds the reader of the biblical history found in Jeremiah where in 586 BC the people of Judah were taken to Babylon.  The fact that Jews have been found in this are up to recent times speaks much of their ability to live alongside other faiths.  Since the Great War however Jews, and most Christians have fled this apart of the world leaving a huge Moslem space almost devoid of any other.  British, French and now US policy has done this and with Trump topping it off today by recognising Jerusalem as capital of Israel another step down may have occurred.  Jerusalem will never be like Babylon however it will suffer more warfare and terrorism, possibly sooner rather than later.   
This to me is the most interesting part of Morton's book.  Babylon then Ur of the Chaldees, again mud bricks and knowledgeable guides, mostly educated when assisting archaeologists in times past, and fascinating history all combined to make me wish to travel there today.  The ease Morton travelled in his day compared to now appeals but I suggest tourism might be possible but costly.

 
For me the book descends into a rather boring read once Morton arrives in Egypt.  While there are some interesting episodes, such as taking a ferry which turns out to be a sinking small boat that slowly struggles to get anywhere, for the most part his many, oh so many descriptions of Coptic Churches, monasteries and their monks and the tales of so called 'saints' from the distant past did not dwell well with me.
The flamboyant Coptic ceremonies may well go back into the distant past, well until about the 400's and hermits and monks may well consider they are seeking salvation by their lifestyles but to me there was a sad outlook for them at that time.  I am not convinced God calls people to live like this, I am not one for fancy outfits or bejewelled clergy and I have no need to live on the hard black bread these monks lived on, the Coptic clergy appeared better fed.  
His visit to Mount Sinai was interesting and the monk with him also and the questions as to whether this is the mount or not is intriguing.  However we do not know for sure and if we did we would worship the mountain not the God!  This was a problem in the middle East in many places, saints are worshipped not the risen Christ.


At least in Rome our man found plenty of interest down in the five hundred miles of catacombs that lie there.  It is possible many famous early Christians mentioned in the letters of Paul may lie there, though it is not possible to be sure.  Certainly the history, the need to hide for the authorities (a bit like it is becoming today) and the sheer adventure of wandering in the near dark at that time through such places was enlivening the book.
Less so his adoration of the pope in all his splendour canonising saints.  The description reveals a side to Morton his womanising nature would find surprising.  Possibly it was ceremony he liked and the connection to history, that connection to history cannot be but joy to the bright mind, however while he knew his scripture we wonder how well he obeyed it no matter how many times he gets VIP seats in the Vatican.

The history from a man in the 1930's is always worth a look.  His fascination for ceremony much less so as is his fawning over 'saints' from the past.  Anyone who becomes a Christian becomes a 'saint' it merely indicates they are 'set apart for God' and not someone with a record of miracles once he is dead!  Morton's history is interesting, his writing style also.  Beginning with the transport and description of the area his book, divided into chapters within chapters, then visits something, description follows and the last small chapter describes the end of day or plan for moving on.
It is easy to understand how his columns in the London press became popular, it is easy to understand why his books still sell today, it is less easy to understand his thinking.  After writing a book on South Africa he moved there with his second wife and his diaries reveal the somewhat fascist ideas he held, his womanising and the flaws in his character.  What however I dwell on is the books he left these describe his world very well a world that no longer exists but is so close to us still today.