Frank Walks to Work

Due to various issues including the requirements of Hamline and the immigration authorities of the United Kindom, we are now in Montpellier, France, collaborating with colleagues at Universite de Montpellier 2.  We spent a sabbatical year here in 2002-3, so we're pretty familiar with the place.  It's beautiful, and are hearts are singing.

Historic center of Montpellier

Today, in order to deal with a regime that allows for too little exercise in general and to ameliorate the aftereffects of last night's rather luscious bottle of Les Quartz, Domaine du Caillou Chateauneuf-du-Pape mille neuf cent quatrevingt dixneuf, I walked the two miles or so to UM2.   The walk took me through the "centre historique," out onto the broad boulevards to the north of the city, through the somewhat tatty but vibrant suburban neighborhood of le boutonnet and finally to the "fac," the sprawling campus.

Montpellier has a lot in common with York.  It's great days were in medieval times, and the city center presents itself much as it must have done then.  It's filled with achingly beautiful lanes and passageways, many of them too narrow for cars or designated now for pedestrians only.  Walking down them is very pleasant because the only sounds are from human voices and human footfalls, and there is much to see on the walls and in the faces of the passersby.

What's different from York is that Montpellier is built much taller, being in fact built on a huge rock.  I suppose the stone for the building, all a luminous yellow limestone, was quarried nearby,  and it was possible to stack it four stories up without adverse foundational consequence.  Also, in the Mediterranean climate Montpellier enjoys, a passageway resembling a cave is well enough lit in the winter and pleasantly cool in the summer.

Barricaded gate to protest proposed retirement plans.

Anyway, as in York, threading my way through these streets makes me happy.  I can hardly contain myself.  I can't imagine it doesn't contribute to the good naturedness of everyone I pass along the way.  I arrive ready for a productive day in front of my laptop simulating stressed populations.  But what's this?  The back gate, our habitual entrance, is blockaded with cartons and wooden shipping flats.  In fact, in this week of protest against the government's proposal to raise the minimum retirement age, there have been many blockades and people filling the streets enthusiastically beating trashcans with sticks.  I walk back around and find a delivery gate open and enter there.  All's normal inside, if a little quiet.  Au bulot! as they say: to work!

big body of water...

Class has started for all of us and i bet many of us are running all over the place to catch classes and get cheep sweat-shirts. We are also all probably hating the fact that we have a big body of water in the middle of campus making our trek that much longer. But i would like to point out that it looks pretty too (as seen in photo) and i think if you got some time you should sit by it and see that there are some areas by the water that have a pretty spectacular view.

Anyway hope we all do well in classes. Wouldn't hurt if you liked them too. I think i will be thoroughly enjoying my Social Psychology class. Hey i might be even more active and look into joining the Fencing Club.

Cheers All!!

Twins Last Stand

Yesterday, through the mail slot,  came our first snail-mail envelope from home.  Sent by our son who currently lives in Texas, it contained an official Minnesota Twins Home Run Hankie.  At the time the envelope came through our door, the Twins had just suffered their second loss at home to the Yankees.

But now there are fans in York equipped with a Hankie and we're not afraid to use it.  Go Twins!

Mouse and Minster

Here are Rhya Haugan's observations on the small and large of the Minster tour, September 10.

The Minster writ large over the rooftops of York.  BBC Photo.

Today we visited the York Minster, the renowned cathedral of northern England, known not only for being the largest Cathedral in northern Europe, but also for having the largest medieval stained glass window in the world. However, although the word cathedral may be Latin for “throne”, in the end it is not the size of the church, nor the magnitude of anything that truly measures its greatness. It is instead the small, almost unnoticed details that make these places truly special.

Robert Thompson's signature
mouse, from the Wikipedia
article on the carver.

The obvious elements like the crockets on the spires or the filigree on the windows can be noticed immediately, but often it takes an insider touch, like a knowledgeable tour guide, to point out the finer details. We cannot see it now, but every statue used to be painted, and every window and sculpture has its own story. If you look closely at the stained glass, even the uppermost pictures have full range of expression and shadow etched onto the pane. Even the tile attests to the abundance of line and pattern, while in the same room, tiny faces line the wall, and not all with pleasant expressions. Perhaps my favorite details are the little mice carved onto the bottom of every pew and wooden fixture. If you were to sit there at evensong you might notice one, or perhaps if a friend pointed it out, but otherwise it would be invisible.

The great open spaces and the glory of the architecture may inspire awe, but this only scratches the surface of what a cathedral is. Cathedrals are the home of God, and just as God is more than brute power and glory, his cathedrals are more than vaults and towers. The love and attention should be the same, the richness of detail should be the same, and the almost unattainable knowledge of it all should be the same, and with these details our Minster almost reaches it. For without this range of power and beauty, this range of grandeur and detail, these thrones to God would not sing as strong to His glory.

Gabby on the Stairway to the Minster Tower

Minster Tower Drawn by Jana Anderson

On 10 September, we toured the Minster and then, after lunch, climbed to the top of the Lantern Tower.  283 spiraling steps up a cylindrical shaft inside the tower's south east pillar.  The following account is by Gabby Nordstrom.

I was happy to get the chance to go up into the tower of York Minster. Although it was a long climb and it being somewhat claustrophobic in there, it was also exciting to see the town and York Minster from such a vantage point. The walls on either side of the staircase are too close for comfort; one could easily extend both arms and touch each wall. And the design of the staircase, though compact, makes for an exhausting climb. I could imagine people climbing those stairs centuries ago and wondered how they avoided breaking their own necks. With steep uneven steps, sometimes too close together and other times so far apart that if you weren’t looking down you would doubt the next step existed. I believe I would trip if it weren’t for the conveniently placed railing. This stairwell wasn’t designed for beauty, it had a practical purpose.

From opposite side.  The stairwell is
inside the left hand corner pillar.

The stairwell itself only had a few spaced out lights installed and small windows carved through the stone walls. As small as the windows are, they still provide enough light and a good view of what is around us outside. They also happen to be a nice place to sit apparently since I passed one women resting on the ledge in front of a window on my way up.
While I was climbing those steps, the realization of the magnitude of these magnificent buildings really sank in. It hit me how truly amazing it is that in a time so long ago, people could not only imagine masterpieces like these but also could bring them to life, fully actualized. Something like the York Minster took thousands of people to create and centuries to both build and constantly restore. It really is a testament to our persistence and imagination.