Book #8 - Underland by Robert Macfarlane

[Moonchime]

So the truth, and a possible disadvantage of lazy book club, is that it is so long ago since I read this chapter that I cannot answer the first question without reading it again - so I will do so, but before that I will respond to some of the themes of the questions and your lovely responses.

As the awful disaster of "Titan" the submersible capsule that has finally been located on the ocean floor hits our news - I have to wonder at how easy it should be to engage in high risk activities that normally would not be accessible without some sort of experience. I totally get the curiosity and thrill that comes from exploration but "tourist thrills" are slightly different to hard won experience. Every year Mount Everest is crowded with those attempting to summit who can afford to employ trusted guides - and many succeed but it is also a mountain littered with those who did not. Of course it is natural to want to try and save those in trouble but rescue missions can also come at a hight cost and how far should we expect to be helped in certain high risk situations?

There are certainly some activities I do that are a bit dodgy, but I do have a line that I would not cross - I assess the risks very carefully and follow the rules - well I think I do. I love reading about adventures and people exploring - and Robert MacFarlane is one such explorer who I would class as having a good deal of experience rather than a total rookie but I know you have to start somewhere - but perhaps that somewhere has to be a reasonable and not extreme risk. Those who solo free climb or do base jumping have a very serious risk of fatality if anything goes wrong - but that's it- there's rarely a rescue mission involved.

As for the wonderful adventures in this chapter - I love the idea of the darkness and the rivers underground. As soon as you're in the dark the thrill is doubled isn't it? But the terror is too!!!
It never ceases to amaze me when I turn off the light how everything changes - how a walk you do in the day is totally something else at night. However, I don't really like total darkness - that is truly terrifying but it is also very rare - at least above ground. I don't think I would want to experience it for very long underground.

Dee wrote:

For me, the sea, and the night sky. I will never climb crazy high mountains and will never descend into the belly of the earth. So I’m left with these two effortlessly available sources of vastness and mystery: the oceans and the universe.

I totally agree - in fact you've covered everything there anyway. Sometimes my dad and I used to discuss the night sky and the stars and the almighty wonder of it all and it would nearly always end with us just sat in mutual awe, unable to fathom the mystery of it all.

For me the sea offers a unique opportunity to enter another world - it is different being in it to watching it - like becoming a water creature - a way of escaping temporarily from the restrictions of land.You mentioned "dissolving" and I love that description - I feel it's very appropriate for those special moments where your soul sets alight or where it simply becomes one with nature and nothing else exists except that moment in that place.

I don't think you need to take great risks to feel these special moments - you just have to find ways of escaping your everyday worries and finding space, then in that space you find a release, a freedom and a peace.

[Dee]

Beautifully said, Mz Moonchime, and we are in total agreement it seems. With the caveat that for me it’s not necessary to be submerged in the sea - I actually dislike it for multiple reasons. I love just walking barefoot into the shallow part and paddle just ankle deep. That’s perfect and enough connection for me. I also love being on a boat out on the sea (though there’s always a slight sense of trepidation of an impending boat disaster in the pit of my stomach). Swimming in the sea is not for me. I dislike just about everything about that experience. True, that I’ve never been to the Maldives to snorkel, that might change my mind, but somehow I don’t think that experience is ever going to be on the cards for me.

Swimming in lakes or rivers though, that’s something I love to do.

[Moonchime]

Chapter 7 Hollow Land (Slovenian Highlands)


From images.drive.com.



From Reddit: Austrian-Hungarian officers in the Julian Alps 1916


1. What is the relationship of beauty and atrocity in a landscape such as this?
Is it possible, even responsible, to take pleasure in such a place?

2. In the poem "Dehumanization" are the lines:

"In the bottomless pit countless numbers of them lie,
But despite it all: they were people like you and me."

It is not difficult to imagine that those abused are people like us - but do we think that the perpetrators are also people like you and me or do we only align ourselves with those we view as innocent?

3. Have you visited a place that you felt commanded a particularly sensitive code of conduct?
Did you feel the code was necessary?

[Moonchime]

Do not read on if you have not read the chapter first.
(unless you're not going to anyway).
1. What is the relationship of beauty and atrocity in a landscape such as this?
Is it possible, even responsible, to take pleasure in such a place?

I found the chapter very disturbing and poignant. You cannot help but feel the weight of the things that have taken place and the effect of them on Robert and Lucian. They are walking in a magnificent mountain range with summits spiralling all around them and yet the deeds of mankind sully their visit. Obviously if there is no evidence of what has happened and you do not know the past history of a place then I see no harm in taking pleasure it, after all there would be precious few locations on earth to enjoy if we kept all battlefields and sites of crimes as sacred to those memories.
In a way nature saves us by its awe and indifference - the sun continues to shine and birds sing despite the unthinkable behaviour of the human race - and so we move on - as we must. Without the ability to move forward how could we begin to carve some meaning out of the suffering of those whose corpses nourish the earth.
Time also plays a part I think - the more recent an horrific event the more we still need to let the wounds heal before moving on. Time creates a protection that allows us to see things without the sharp focus of more recent events. Furthermore if there is clear evidence of atrocity then I think it does require some sense of respect and reflection (more of that in answer to no.3).

2. In the poem "Dehumanization" are the lines:

"In the bottomless pit countless numbers of them lie,
But despite it all: they were people like you and me."

It is not difficult to imagine that those abused are people like us - but do we think that the perpetrators are also people like you and me or do we only align ourselves with those we view as innocent?

I have thought much about this as I have a book by Fergal Keane called "Letter to Daniel" and in writing about some of the awful things he has reported on, he talks of seeing a dead baby and wondering who could do such a thing as kill a baby. Some time later he decides on his answer and that answer is "people like you and me."
Unfortunately I agree with him - although I'd always like to think I couldn't - I think that in certain circumstances and contexts we are all capable of terrible things if we have been dehumanised sufficiently. I wish it were not so and I still prefer to side with the righteous and the good in the hope that I am one of them, but I also know that life is not that simple.

3. Have you visited a place that you felt commanded a particularly sensitive code of conduct?
Did you feel the code was necessary?

I have visited numerous sites of battles/massacres but for me the place that springs to mind is Auschwitz. There is a strict code that stresses all visitors should behave with respect as they are in a place of burial and mass extermination and everything a visitor does must reflect this. Certain areas request that all visitors remain silent as they walk through.

I totally agree with the code they have established and admire their determination to avoid anything that could be deemed as undesirable or done for the wrong reasons. There is no eating or drinking (water in hot weather is ok) or photography in most places. I do think the code is necessary unfortunately, as sometimes people seem to forget that behaviours should be modified according to context and time. Most of the time people were respectful when I was there (3 times) but not always. It requires sensitivity. Recently a young woman posed for a photo on the railway line at the entrance to Birkenau; her pose, although not awful, was totally inappropriate and the picture went viral with widespread condemnation. One can't help but wonder what she and the photographer were thinking.


Other stuff to lighten the mood.

That little Theresa made me laugh - making pasta from scratch and then dumping the cat on Robert's laugh before giving it a big kiss and upsetting it!!!


I like the description of Robert's waking to calmness and a miracle - the cloud moving and shifting around them and his quote from W.H. Murray - Find beauty, be still.

[Dee]

Do not read on if you have not read the chapter first.
(unless you're not going to anyway).
1. What is the relationship of beauty and atrocity in a landscape such as this?
Is it possible, even responsible, to take pleasure in such a place?

I found the chapter very disturbing and poignant. You cannot help but feel the weight of the things that have taken place and the effect of them on Robert and Lucian. They are walking in a magnificent mountain range with summits spiralling all around them and yet the deeds of mankind sully their visit. Obviously if there is no evidence of what has happened and you do not know the past history of a place then I see no harm in taking pleasure it, after all there would be precious few locations on earth to enjoy if we kept all battlefields and sites of crimes as sacred to those memories.
In a way nature saves us by its awe and indifference - the sun continues to shine and birds sing despite the unthinkable behaviour of the human race - and so we move on - as we must. Without the ability to move forward how could we begin to carve some meaning out of the suffering of those whose corpses nourish the earth.
Time also plays a part I think - the more recent an horrific event the more we still need to let the wounds heal before moving on. Time creates a protection that allows us to see things without the sharp focus of more recent events. Furthermore if there is clear evidence of atrocity then I think it does require some sense of respect and reflection (more of that in answer to no.3).

I pretty much agree with all of the above, and I particularly liked how you worded the part I’d highlighted in your post above. Your question was:


1. What is the relationship of beauty and atrocity in a landscape such as this?
Is it possible, even responsible, to take pleasure in such a place?

Yes, we could feel how the knowledge of the atrocities scarred the experience of the beauty of the place for Lucian and Robert. Yet, they were also able to see and appreciate the beauty of the place. Human mind can compartmentalise as much as experience the juxtaposition of such contrasting elements of life: the beauty of nature and the depravity of humans. The thing is, nature was there before humans and will be there after humans… somehow rendering humans insignificant. And I can see a lot of beauty in that. Humans in all honesty are a dreadful selfish species, who have been utilising the earth’s resources without any concern for the consequences, until it’s pretty much too late now. But at least humans can also rejoice in beauty and even create it. Still, from the point of view of our planet, humans have been nothing but some dreadful harmful pests, and it would have been better if they never existed.


2. In the poem "Dehumanization" are the lines:

"In the bottomless pit countless numbers of them lie,
But despite it all: they were people like you and me."

It is not difficult to imagine that those abused are people like us - but do we think that the perpetrators are also people like you and me or do we only align ourselves with those we view as innocent?

I have thought much about this as I have a book by Fergal Keane called "Letter to Daniel" and in writing about some of the awful things he has reported on, he talks of seeing a dead baby and wondering who could do such a thing as kill a baby. Some time later he decides on his answer and that answer is "people like you and me."
Unfortunately I agree with him - although I'd always like to think I couldn't - I think that in certain circumstances and contexts we are all capable of terrible things if we have been dehumanised sufficiently. I wish it were not so and I still prefer to side with the righteous and the good in the hope that I am one of them, but I also know that life is not that simple.

Again, I agree with you. Human nature is vastly complicated. There is some hope though, there have been extraordinary humans who have not succumbed to their dark sides, and all we can do is take courage from them that it is possible, and do our very best to follow their examples, and rather die ourselves than do something terrible. But we all know that pain, fear and hatred can reprogram a human consciousness very effectively…

War corrupts perceptions on both sides. Once you’ve lost a brother, you’ll be filled with rage and need to revenge. Then rage and revenge bring on more death and more rage and revenge and it never ever stops. Even after the war ends, these feelings fester and can resurface at the drop of a hat. Which is why human history keeps repeating itself.

Many of those people in the mass graves were probably just as bad as the ones who put them there. Hours before they died they might have killed people themselves.

If anyone attacked our country, our community, our family… wouldn’t we take up arms too? Wouldn’t we stop thinking about our enemies as “people like us”?

So yes, the people in the mass graves, and the people who pushed them in there, they were people like you and me, - but corrupted, giving in to their dark sides.

3. Have you visited a place that you felt commanded a particularly sensitive code of conduct?
Did you feel the code was necessary?

I have visited numerous sites of battles/massacres but for me the place that springs to mind is Auschwitz. There is a strict code that stresses all visitors should behave with respect as they are in a place of burial and mass extermination and everything a visitor does must reflect this. Certain areas request that all visitors remain silent as they walk through.

I totally agree with the code they have established and admire their determination to avoid anything that could be deemed as undesirable or done for the wrong reasons. There is no eating or drinking (water in hot weather is ok) or photography in most places. I do think the code is necessary unfortunately, as sometimes people seem to forget that behaviours should be modified according to context and time. Most of the time people were respectful when I was there (3 times) but not always. It requires sensitivity. Recently a young woman posed for a photo on the railway line at the entrance to Birkenau; her pose, although not awful, was totally inappropriate and the picture went viral with widespread condemnation. One can't help but wonder what she and the photographer were thinking.


Again, completely agree. I’ve never visited a concentration camp, quite frankly I don’t think I could cope. Learning about the Holocaust, reading books about it, seeing photographs, films… it literally broke me. Visiting an actual place where it all happened, I’m not sure I could ever recover from that horror. I think leaning about the Holocaust is what marks the end of our childhood, it certainly has marked mine. Learning what humans are capable of.

The only place I have felt I should be behaving with respect to the dead (besides cemeteries) was the Catacombs in Paris. Though that is such a bizarre setup, it was quite a complex experience. We have found everyone in the museum softly spoken and respectful.

I also feel that visiting stone circles should be done with respectful silence, because they were obviously very special places, and we might never know the full stories, but we can sense the importance of it all by silently meditating, tuning in. I have occasionally come across people at stone circles who were obviously not sharing my views. VERY annoying.

Other stuff to lighten the mood.

That little Theresa made me laugh - making pasta from scratch and then dumping the cat on Robert's laugh before giving it a big kiss and upsetting it!!!


Such a sweet story.

I like the description of Robert's waking to calmness and a miracle - the cloud moving and shifting around them and his quote from W.H. Murray - Find beauty, be still.

Loved that quote too.

Thanks for the setup, Mz Moonchime, I hope you’re impressed how quickly I’ve responded!

Next chapter please!!!

[Moonchime]

I am so impressed by the speed of your response that you have quite taken me by surprise!!! I will need a little time to get over the shock but of course I am thrilled.

We agree on so much but I wonder in reading your condemnation of humans and their selfish nature whether animals are any different? What separates us from them? Is it just intelligence and if it is then would they be the same if they could be? Is it just that if you have to spend every day finding food you can't develop mentally in the same way? What makes us human?

[Dee]

I am so impressed by the speed of your response that you have quite taken me by surprise!!! I will need a little time to get over the shock but of course I am thrilled.

Sweet school holidays…

We agree on so much but I wonder in reading your condemnation of humans and their selfish nature whether animals are any different? What separates us from them?

I think simply that we know better. We have choices, and we often make the wrong ones, even in full consciousness.

Is it just intelligence and if it is then would they be the same if they could be? Is it just that if you have to spend every day finding food you can't develop mentally in the same way? What makes us human?

Intelligence for starters. And yes, I take your point, if other animals had had the chance for developing their brains and had the physical capacity to build things, they might have gone down a similar road humans did. Plenty of ghastly things happen in the animal world that are driven by motivations such as survival, securing territory, food resources, successful reproduction and raring their young.

These are in fact the main primary concerns of humans too. They want security and safety and the best for their young most if all.

But having satisfied these needs, another major priority has become comfort and pleasure, and this has opened the giant can of worms that will ultimately cause the downfall of our species.

Animals seem to take pleasure in the little things, and for most humans that’s not enough. The more money they have, the more comfort and pleasure they seek and there seems no limit to this. Always onto the next thing. And in this pursuit humans are not only destroying the planet, but have developed their dark nature: giving in to greed, that is the driving force of so much evil in our world. The parameters of pleasure keep shifting, boundaries are pushed in a constant search for heightening pleasure, and humans began to find this in very dark places such as abusing power, gambling, violence, drugs, pornography, etc.

We believe that animals don’t see anything wrong in rape or killing other parents’ young or killing prey in brutal ways, as they don’t have the consciousness to know right from wrong. Humans have developed consciousness and moral code to enable them to live together in relative peace and harmony, yet they often choose to push that aside and justify their actions like they are the animals who don’t know any better. This is what makes humans the worst species that have ever lived. (As well as the most extraordinary and magnificent, of course, in what amazing and beautiful things they have also managed to create. But sadly, the good parts are not going to be enough to save our species.)

[Moonchime]

Third Chamber
Part 3: Haunting (The North)


Charon on the River Styx



The Door to Hell in the Karakum Desert



Snow Geese fly to their death drinking at a toxic lake in Montana 2016



The Elephant's Foot in Chernobyl


1. The Door to Hell and the nuclear site in Chernobyl both attract visitors despite the risks involved (particularly the latter site).
Would you like to visit either place?
How do you feel about people visiting a nuclear site?


Chapter 8 Red Dancers




2. Robert Macfarlane states that are 2 ways to get to the Red Dancers of Kollhellaren - on foot over what is known as the Lofoten Wall (a precipitous ridge) or by boat passing through the Moskstaumen (strong whirlpool). He chooses the Wall but then has to choose between going through a gully or ascending the slabbed shoulder of the peak - he chooses the gully despite saying it is more dangerous.
Which way would you choose and why?


Lofoten Wall



The Moskstraumen

3. It is a dangerous lonely journey to the Red Dancers. Would you go to such a place alone?

4. Why do you think the caves hold such a fascination?

5. Have you ever seen/or would like to see ancient drawings such as the Red Dancers?

6.

In the Celtic Christian tradition "thin places" are those sites in a landscape where the borders between worlds or epochs feel at their most fragile." Robert Macfarlane p.270

Do you think you have ever been to/can describe a "thin place?"

[Dee]

Thank you so much for the beautifully illustrated setup of this new chapter, Mz Moonchime. It’s so fascinating to see pictures of these places we have just read about.

1. The Door to Hell and the nuclear site in Chernobyl both attract visitors despite the risks involved (particularly the latter site).
Would you like to visit either place?
How do you feel about people visiting a nuclear site?

I wouldn’t want to visit such site, with poisonous gases and radiation… Quite frankly I struggle to understand anyone who goes to such places by choice, interesting as they are. Especially as you can see photographs and videos of these places some crazy-brave people have taken on their visits, whether their line of work made them go there or just pure curiosity.

This is an ongoing theme in this book, the lengths people are prepared to go to to see difficult to reach places first hand, or even be the first one to reach. That profound, intense experience that can only be yours if you’re actually there in person… versus clinging to the notion of safety, fuelled by both common sense and inertia. I’m afraid I’m solidly in the group of those clinging onto safety over excitement.


Chapter 8 Red Dancers

2. Robert Macfarlane states that are 2 ways to get to the Red Dancers of Kollhellaren - on foot over what is known as the Lofoten Wall (a precipitous ridge) or by boat passing through the Moskstaumen (strong whirlpool). He chooses the Wall but then has to choose between going through a gully or ascending the slabbed shoulder of the peak - he chooses the gully despite saying it is more dangerous.
Which way would you choose and why?

The Lofoten Wall… again, thank for the picture. What an amazing place.

How would I approach it? Well, I wouldn’t. Not on foot, not on sea. Not in a gully, not on the slabbed shoulder. I can’t even entertain the idea of choosing as all the options seem so crazy to me. But the people who once lived in that abandoned village got there and left the place by boat, so I presume that might still be the best option on a nice summers day. Though we have learnt from this chapter how quickly the weather changes there. And how indifferent the landscape is to human quests. So. Show my photographs please.

3. It is a dangerous lonely journey to the Red Dancers. Would you go to such a place alone?

The craziest thing about Robert’s journey was doing it alone. No wonder he had a complete meltdown in that cave. Not only he had to go through all these hair raising challenges and outright hostilities on his own, but he couldn’t share the overwhelmingly beautiful experience of finding the dancers (and the otters before that) with someone. There are times and places to be alone, things that are lovely to do on your own, - but perhaps this wasn’t one of those. Robert is a daredevil.

4. Why do you think the caves hold such a fascination?

Oh I totally get the fascination. To have an insight into the minds and lives of those humans who lived there at the time, created these images, the reasons behind the paintings, the meanings, the conversations they might have been having sparked by them. My goodness how amazing it would be to witness that.

And in the case of this particular place, it seems that the creators have been daredevils themselves, to paint in places so difficult to access. No doubt that they were driven by spiritual needs that over-rid more basic human needs.

5. Have you ever seen/or would like to see ancient drawings such as the Red Dancers?

Only replicas, in France. I’d love to see some original ones, but you have to be super organised and book months and months ahead.

6.
In the Celtic Christian tradition "thin places" are those sites in a landscape where the borders between worlds or epochs feel at their most fragile." Robert Macfarlane p.270

Do you think you have ever been to/can describe a "thin place?"

I don’t think I have been to such place. The closest experience I‘ve had was probably in Whitby, actually a couple of times. Once on pier in a violent storm. That sense of relentless power and ruthless indifference, that would devour you without a trace should you slip, make the wrong move. And once when we were nearly caught out by the tide, walking back to Whitby from Robin Hood’s Bay. We were already committed and couldn’t go back, only forward, and there was an unexpected rock formation protruding into the sea that was rapidly swapped up by the rising water. As we were climbing through some rocks, I was actually really scared whether we would make it. Again I felt how easily the sea could just claim you.

I know these examples are not quite what Robert was describing, but the frozen wind of death was gripping my heart on both occasions, and I felt a strong sense of timelessness.

Actually, now I’m realising that I’ve had some experience of some thin places: standing inside ancient stone circles. I love that feeling, even if it’s somewhat unsettling. There is definitely a sense of gateway to the past and its mysteries. Now I’ve never been to one of these stone circles on my own, but when I’m there, I realise that I love it most when there is no one else around, lagging behind to experience it on my own, if for a brief minute or so. So actually, I do understand the need for experiencing such things on your own without any distractions. But visiting a stone circle in the gentle hills of the Welsh countryside does not quite have the same level of danger attached to it as Robert visiting the Red Dancers!

Now Mz Moonchime, could you please answer your own questions too? [color]

[Moonchime]

1. The Door to Hell and the nuclear site in Chernobyl both attract visitors despite the risks involved (particularly the latter site).
Would you like to visit either place?
How do you feel about people visiting a nuclear site?

I too struggle to understand people going to dangerous sites - particularly nuclear sites where there is still so much risk and indeed where such a tragedy took place. I find that harder to understand that visiting The Door to Hell which somehow doesn't feel so awful to me, although I would keep a very safe distance (if that's even possible). I find fire generally, hugely humbling and quite terrifying. When I was young that last scene in the film Rebecca where the maid is caught between the flames haunted me for years - I couldn't get the image out of my head.
There have been a couple of fires in Earith - one very recently and when I saw one of them I was overcome with a sense of their power and force and really thoroughly shaken. No video or photo can really transmit that.

Dee said:
This is an ongoing theme in this book, the lengths people are prepared to go to to see difficult to reach places first hand, or even be the first one to reach. That profound, intense experience that can only be yours if you’re actually there in person… versus clinging to the notion of safety, fuelled by both common sense and inertia. I’m afraid I’m solidly in the group of those clinging onto safety over excitement.



I think most of the time I'm in the same group as you but perhaps a little more on the edge. There are definitely times when I feel I am taking risks but I don't intend to take foolish ones and I never intend to put my life at serious risk - so maybe I' m just the same.
To be honest I am quite easily petrified and know that I must control my mind otherwise there is a great deal I wouldn't do - so it can be difficult to judge just how significant a risk I'm taking. I totally agree that there is a theme running through the book of risk taking and being the first or at least among them; humas are fascinated by such achievements and marking out new paths.

Chapter 8 Red Dancers

2. Robert Macfarlane states that are 2 ways to get to the Red Dancers of Kollhellaren - on foot over what is known as the Lofoten Wall (a precipitous ridge) or by boat passing through the Moskstaumen (strong whirlpool). He chooses the Wall but then has to choose between going through a gully or ascending the slabbed shoulder of the peak - he chooses the gully despite saying it is more dangerous.
Which way would you choose and why?

If I had to I think my first thoughts were that I would never choose the gully because I don't like feeling too enclosed and RM said it was more dangerous. However, after very nearly being blown over in the Lakes I think the shoulder would be catastrophic in bad weather.

When I was researching these places a holiday came up visiting some of the area and taking in the maelstrom, so I thought maybe it's not so bad if you have someone experienced and the weather is perfect. The thing is though that the holiday was no longer running .


3. It is a dangerous lonely journey to the Red Dancers. Would you go to such a place alone?

Dee said:
The craziest thing about Robert’s journey was doing it alone. No wonder he had a complete meltdown in that cave. Not only he had to go through all these hair raising challenges and outright hostilities on his own, but he couldn’t share the overwhelmingly beautiful experience of finding the dancers (and the otters before that) with someone. There are times and places to be alone, things that are lovely to do on your own, - but perhaps this wasn’t one of those. Robert is a daredevil.

Yes I think you're right. No I wouldn't do such a thing alone either - I wonder if his brain is wired the same way as ours. Having watched "Free Solo"
featuring the free climber Alex Honnold, it would seem that the part of his brain that deals with risk is not the same as most people's. Maybe that's what separates some of us from others?



4. Why do you think the caves hold such a fascination?

I too would have loved to have a been a fly on the cave wall. It seems that since the earliest times mankind have wanted to record their experiences/thoughts in some way or other and they were willing to do whatever it took. There is something very poignant about looking at the hand prints/drawings of humans from another time.

5. Have you ever seen/or would like to see ancient drawings such as the Red Dancers?

Dee said:
Only replicas, in France. I’d love to see some original ones, but you have to be super organised and book months and months ahead.

Me too - we visited Lascaux, but as you said- they are replicas. It was still an awesome experience but seeing the real thing would take it to another level.
I'd like to see the Red Dancers but I think there are probably other places to visit that don't involve such a risky journey. My heart doesn't burn with the longing that RM seemed to have for that particular place.



6.
In the Celtic Christian tradition "thin places" are those sites in a landscape where the borders between worlds or epochs feel at their most fragile." Robert Macfarlane p.270

Do you think you have ever been to/can describe a "thin place?"


Dee:
I don’t think I have been to such place. The closest experience I‘ve had was probably in Whitby, actually a couple of times. Once on pier in a violent storm. That sense of relentless power and ruthless indifference, that would devour you without a trace should you slip, make the wrong move. And once when we were nearly caught out by the tide, walking back to Whitby from Robin Hood’s Bay. We were already committed and couldn’t go back, only forward, and there was an unexpected rock formation protruding into the sea that was rapidly swapped up by the rising water. As we were climbing through some rocks, I was actually really scared whether we would make it. Again I felt how easily the sea could just claim you.

I know these examples are not quite what Robert was describing, but the frozen wind of death was gripping my heart on both occasions, and I felt a strong sense of timelessness.

I love love this idea/ definition of "thin" places and I think your wonderful description brings to life one such time and place.

Actually, now I’m realising that I’ve had some experience of some thin places: standing inside ancient stone circles. I love that feeling, even if it’s somewhat unsettling. There is definitely a sense of gateway to the past and its mysteries. Now I’ve never been to one of these stone circles on my own, but when I’m there, I realise that I love it most when there is no one else around, lagging behind to experience it on my own, if for a brief minute or so.

[color]

Absolutely Dee - something happens when you are on your own when there are no distractions and nothing to pin you to the present. We visited Abu Simbel years ago on a Nile trip and due the daytime heat we had to set off in the middle of the night, arriving on site at dawn. By chance our group was the first to get in and before long it was clear that my family members were racing to be the first one into the temple, which was totally empty of anyone in those early moments. Even though I wasn't first on that occasion there was still the ability to feel alone and feel the mists of time fall away.

That's it isn't it - gateways to the past - veils momentarily lifted - sliding doors between past and present - imperceptible shifts, impossible to hold onto, to define, to understand, a momentary connection, a fleeting union.

[Moonchime]

The Edge



A typical tourist view of Norway.


The Lofoten Islands




The Deepwater Horizon Catastrophe 20th April 2010




1.Which parts of the chapter had the most effect on you? Why?

For me I think it was the fact that I have always thought of Norway as a pure and untouched sort of place - a type of wild fairy land in my mind - I never thought of it as having a significant place in the business of oil. That shows what I know and brings the matter of reality into how one often views other places of which we may have little knowledge.
I've been to Norway but didn't visit any of the place RM mentions in this chapter and even if I had I probably wouldn't have been aware of all the politics around these places. It's certainly true that the Lofoten Islands are a key tourist site so I daresay there would be a lot of opposition to any major developments.


2. What were your impressions of Bjonar?

I loved the descriptions of Bjonar - he was such a larger than life character and so well described by RM I felt I almost knew exactly what it would be like to meet him. He seems such a robust character at first, with interesting pets and a deep love for his home and country, but then you realise how much his fight for what his land/sea has cost him and how much it can take to keep struggling. I wonder how he is now. He struck me as having salt -water running through his veins instead of blood.




3. P.314
"I think of...the seismic charges detonating underwater...of our species instinct to open what has been sealed without thought for the consequences"

Could you resist opening a sealed container that you found? Can you think of a time when you did so?

[Dee]

1.Which parts of the chapter had the most effect on you? Why?

For me I think it was the fact that I have always thought of Norway as a pure and untouched sort of place - a type of wild fairy land in my mind - I never thought of it as having a significant place in the business of oil. That shows what I know and brings the matter of reality into how one often views other places of which we may have little knowledge.
I've been to Norway but didn't visit any of the place RM mentions in this chapter and even if I had I probably wouldn't have been aware of all the politics around these places. It's certainly true that the Lofoten Islands are a key tourist site so I daresay there would be a lot of opposition to any major developments.


Yes, I found all this information very sobering too, but also hopeful that all these organisations pulling together, the fishermen’s unions, the climate change warriors, the nature protectors and the tourist industry, together they will be able to fight back again.

I’ve found the description of plastic taking over our world very powerful too. And the impact of the seismic blasting on the marine life. Goodness, we humans are such a menace on this planet.

2. What were your impressions of Bjonar?

I loved the descriptions of Bjonar - he was such a larger than life character and so well described by RM I felt I almost knew exactly what it would be like to meet him. He seems such a robust character at first, with interesting pets and a deep love for his home and country, but then you realise how much his fight for what his land/sea has cost him and how much it can take to keep struggling. I wonder how he is now. He struck me as having salt -water running through his veins instead of blood.


I loved that last sentence you’ve written to describe him. What an amazing person. And I loved his raccoon hat.

I tried to find a photo of him wearing it, but failed. As a consolation prize, here is a photograph of him on his boat:



And here he is singing a song about a man drinking too much!

https://youtu.be/NWq1HbwC8oc?si=lM6VA0oCxUcnDTFB

A great singer, besides being an inspirational human.

3. P.314
"I think of...the seismic charges detonating underwater...of our species instinct to open what has been sealed without thought for the consequences"

Could you resist opening a sealed container that you found? Can you think of a time when you did so?

I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, have you?

I think humans are genuinely curious, and there is nothing wrong with that, if we don’t harm anyone with our explorations. Then there is the situation where humans kept on exploring and opening boxes without knowing that they were causing harm. A fine line between not knowing or not wanting to know. But now we are in the times when we know very well of all the harm we are causing, yet still we as a species, keep on doing the things that are causing harm, not only to the planet and all their flora and fauna, but to ourselves within it. Yet, we still can’t stop. This is what’s one of the most horrifying aspect of the human race.