Pictured in Memory

Some of the best experiences can't be documented by camera. That was the case with two events we attended in London. While I could steal photos from websites (with attribution) these experiences can only be re-lived in memory.

I had long wanted to attend an evensong service at Westminster Abbey. Kevin and I may not be religious, but attending these services can be inspiring and certainly can do no harm. Who wouldn't find their thoughts soaring with the beauty of the abbey and the knowledge that you are seeing a part of history. Site of the coronation of all English monarchs since 1066, the abbey has echoed the sounds of prayer  for over a thousand years. And because evensong is a mostly sung service (hence the "song" part of the description), it's especially uplifting.

Best of all, if you attend a service at Westminster Abbey, you get in for free! You can't just walk around, of course, but not only do they not charge for the service, there was never even a request for an offering. What was particularly thrilling was that, having arrived a half-hour before the service, we were among the first admitted. We were seated in the quire, the section typically reserved for clerics and visiting dignitaries during official ceremonies!

In the Daily Mail photo of the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, you can see the quire stalls just to the right of where the robed choir members are standing. 

The abbey provides a booklet for those who attend the service, so you can follow along and know when to stand or sit. I ran my fingers along the wooden shelf that held the booklet and thought of all of the people who had sat there before. Although the current stalls date only from 1848, they replaced the ones that were installed earlier.
Prayers were offered for peace and for delivery from darkness. But as an American, I noted that prayers were also offered for blessings on "our most gracious Sovereign Lady, Queen Elizabeth, Philip Duke of Edinburgh, Charles Prince of Wales, and all the Royal Family." (Note: This is reproduced as in the program with no commas after "Philip" or "Charles.) Because the queen is head of the Church of England, I was not surprised that prayers were offered for her, but I was surprised to find Philip and Charles called out by name.
Sitting there in the hushed abbey, we listened to the choir, while the lilting voices of the boy sopranos rising, as the other voices blended with the deep, resonant tone of the organ, filling up the vast space. The worries of the day were swept away. We felt rested and at peace.
The other experience we will have to remember without our own photographs was our visit to the British Library. Understandably, given the need to preserve works on paper or parchment, lighting is low, and no photos are allowed.
Although the library was crowded the day we were there, incredulously, we found ourselves all alone in the room with the Magna Carta (The Great Charter). The library's copy is one of four surviving original texts. We had seen it on a previous visit, but now it is even better displayed. What a privilege to view that document in a quiet room all by ourselves. (Photo from history.com) 

The display made us want to learn more. We had always understood that the primary significance of the Magna Carta was the fact it was one of the earliest documents that limited the power of the king, and a precursor to later documents outlining human rights, including our own Bill of Rights. And while that is all true, it was surprising for us to learn that it also gave limited rights to women. For example, it stated that widows were no longer compelled to marry--they could live without taking a new husband if they desired. (I know, that's not exactly liberation, but it is a significant, if minor, part in the march toward equality. After all, it was 1215!)
A special exhibition at the library included the Lindisfarne Gospels (715-720) and other illustrated biblical texts, as well as what is probably the first surviving letter written in English, the first illustrated copy of Beowulf, and the Domesday (pronounced Dooms-day) Book. (Lindisfarne Gospel illustrations are from Wikipedia; Domesday Book photo is from DK Find Out!)

The Domesday Book chronicles the great survey of England, directed by William the Conqueror, which compared every landholding in the country with its status and ownership in 1086, compared to 1066, when William seized the crown. Although it was created mostly for taxation--and some say not a single cow was overlooked--it is much more than that. Today, the importance of the Domesday Book is that it provides a detailed look at 11th Century England and the deepest view that we have of any 11th Century society. What fascinated me is that the survey was completed in a little over a year, an incredible accomplishment, given the modes of transport and communications of the time.
Of course, the British Library contains many other riches, too, from handwritten scores by Beethoven and Mozart to Shakespeare's first folios and John Lennon's drawings. It was also interesting to see original manuscripts by poets and authors such as Sylvia Plath and T.S. Eliot. I noted that some words were crossed out and sentences recast. That inspired a sad thought: although computers are such a help to writers these days, making it easy to revise, we have lost something by using computers too. We can no longer see the writer's process at work. It goes along with the fact that cursive writing is no longer being taught in some schools. I wonder if one day, graduate students will have to learn cursive in order to do original research on handwritten materials? 
As for us, we will have to be content with the mental pictures of our visits to Westminster Abbey and the British Library, much like visitors in the days before cameras, and who couldn't even dream of a camera or smartphone.