Trinity College is a magical place for all but the students who study there. Since I had the pleasure of visiting the weekend after final exams, there was an air of levity and excitement about the place.
The Book of Kells is amazing, and I'll get to that in a second. First, a few interesting Trinity College facts and fictions.
Women were admitted into the college in 1904. The year prior, the Dean said he would sign the agreement "over his dead body". He was persuaded, signed the agreement, and died a few days later. His body is buried under the corridor of the Women's Dormitory. Women now account for over 60% of the college population.
The college currently has 16,000 students enrolled, less than 20% of whom are from other countries.
If you stand in the center courtyard, to the right is the Mess Hall and to the left is the Exam Hall. Both buildings have identical facades, and you wouldn't be able to tell one from the other by looking at the exteriors. The students here joke that they have Heaven on one side and Hell on the other.
The Long Room Library at Trinity is a stunning sight to behold. It is as if out of a dream from a time long past. Two-story shelves stretch their way from floor to ceiling, carrying leather bound books that house a treasure of considerable proportions. People observe silence here, speaking only in hushed whispers when they must, out of respect for the history amassed within the walls.
The Book of Kells is kept in the library, and is an amazing piece to see. It was written by Celtic months around the year 800 A.D. It contains the 4 Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, but because it was written by Monks, the Latin has been deemed "horrible" and in some spots "unreadable". They really focused most of their time on the pictures, and filled in words around them, when they must. The book is over 1200 years old, and yet the pictures are still vibrant and detailed.
It's sobering to see a hand-made treasure that old, crafted with purpose, and precision. All the text and drawings were done by hand, the lines are seemingly perfect. It took days for them to compose a page, colored with pigment from earthen plants and elements, yet seemingly from another world.
I close my eyes and imagine the hands that created these pages. The room is dark, damp, and cold. A few candles sit atop a large, wooden table where the Monk sits. He has been fasting this week, but while his stomach aches for food, he is driven by a purpose of the highest importance. His is a life of servitude, ruled by the church and fortified by the strength he gains from daily prayers and hard work. Today he is finishing a page that has taken him three so far. The illustrations were finished yesterday, and left to dry before he attempted text. He takes the dull feather from the table and re-sharpens the tip with his blade. His hand is starting to cramp, and the cold isn't helping. Now pointed to his liking, he dips the quill into the ink and slowly, carefully, draws out another line of text.
His mind wanders from the Gospel he is scribing, and seeks entertainment in thoughts of the next meal. Perhaps it will not be a silent meal, and he will be able to share a word with one of his brothers about the grounds and how the crops are faring. He wishes for fresh air and the slight promise of sunshine. He re-focuses, only a few lines to go before the page is done. One step further to completing a masterpiece, but more importantly, to completing a day's task.
I break from the daydream and come back to the land of cell phones and lattes. I am all of a sudden very conscious of my surroundings. Taking a minute to step back in time provides a whole new perspective when you re-enter your world. That was one of the greatest gifts I took away from Trinity.
No comments:
Post a Comment