Canford Magna is a pretty village. But like the charmless girl at school who knows that she's attractive, it's hard to like. Can a village look like it knows it's pretty? I think Canford Magna can.
It's dominated by Canford School, co-educational, full-boarding and independent. Access to its fabulous and beautiful facilities comes at the hefty price of £22,000 a year, according to Wikipedia.
The school is built on an estate which once belonged to an industrial magnate who made his fortune from the iron and steel industry in South Wales. He preferred Dorset's vales to the Welsh valleys as a place to live. The Stour Valley Way led me along the long drive to the old house, towards Wimborne. Along the way, it took me under one of the grandest railway bridges I've seen. The picture won't do it justice but it's very ornate. The railway line that it once carried is now gone and the drive that it spans is now a walker's path rather than the splendid drive for the country house.
Like some of the beautiful church buildings that I've past, the bridge stands in a wholly-changed context. It would be unthinkable to pull it down. It's value as an 'attraction' has now surpassed it's functional value.
Attractiveness is not a burden I've had to bear personally! But it occured to me that Canford village, girls who know that they're pretty, beautiful structures that are too precious to adapt to changed contexts all have to cope with the difficulty of being attractive. As I say, in this field I have no experience, and I write from ignorance. Beauty, whether in a person or in a building, invites admiration and, I suppose, the projection of all sorts of expectations by other people. Though I've appreciated our plain church building's practicality and been thankful that we don't have to look after a listed building, I don't think I've ever thought much about the 'problem of beauty' before.
Perhaps it was my walking verse for the day that put me in mind of these things. It's from Isaiah 3.16 and 17 and the prophet certainly has a go at those who make too much of their attractiveness: "The Lord said, 'Because the daughters of Zion are haughty and walk with outstretched necks, glancing wantonly with their eyes, mincing along as they go, tinkling with their feet; the Lord will afflict with scabs the heads of the daughters of Zion, and the Lord will lay bare their secret parts'".
The context for the prophetic word was the faithlessness of the nation, not just the problem of louche girls. But it's a graphic metaphor: those who spend too long and too much on being admired risk shameful exposure.
I'm walking through particularly beautiful parts of southern England in the coming week. Estate agents windows show how much wealth is needed to buy homes in such 'desirable' places. And I wonder what social costs are being paid to allow such beauty to be reserved for a privileged few.
I crossed the Stour south of Wimborne, too late for evensong at the Minster, and climbed the hill to find Kinly Lodge, my resting place for the night.
Carolyn showed me around my two-storey accomodation, far more than I need, and I settled down with a sandwich of Chas' tasty roast beef. Another nine miles walked, making two hundred and thirty four so far, just under three hundred to go.
I think in it's own way, our church is beautiful. It's far from utilitarian, and is recognisable as a place of worship even without the cross.
ReplyDeleteGive me a modern church like St Pauls' anyday over an ancient, chilly edifice that costs loads in upkeep anyday. Besides, it's the beauty of the worship and the warmth of the congregation that matters!