Prediction
Magazine, June 2003.
Home
of pagans, witches and a famous music festival, there's
more to Glastonbury than meets the eye...
For
many years now the name of Glastonbury has been associated
with the well-known rock and pop festival held at Worthy
Farm in Pilton, Somerset. You may wonder why an annual pop-music
event held on a dairy farm in a little West County village
should bear the name of a town at least nine miles distant.
The answer - maybe - lies in the fact that Glastonbury Tor,
the conical hill around which the town nestles, is a landmark
in the area, which can be clearly seen rising above the
uniform flatness of the Somerset levels from the sloping
valley which hosts Michael Eaviss freewheeling exercise
in open-air indulgence.
But
it still remains a remarkable fact. It would be like calling
a festival held in South London "the St. Pauls festival"
because you can see the cathedral in the distance; or calling
a fair in North Lincolnshire the "Hull Fair" because,
on certain days, you can catch sight of the city over the
River Humber.
The
fact is that Glastonbury was famous long before the festival
imposed any of its ramshackle rock and pop ideology upon
the name in the early seventies. It was famous in the late
sixties, when John Michells book, The View Over Atlantis,
was first published: a book which continues to draw attention
to certain arcane and mystical notions about the town. And
it was famous again, in the late fifties, when Geoffrey
Ashe wrote King Arthurs Avalon, tracing the literary
and historical associations between Glastonbury and the
mythical King of the Britons. And again in the 1930s, with
Dion Fortunes Avalon of the Heart: a book which continues
to urge people from around the globe to visit the town and
to seek out its mysteries. And back, back, further back:
through Medieval romance and Celtic legend and beyond, into
stories and myths which pronounce all sorts of miracles
and mysteries in this place, to the birth of Christ and
before.
Holiest
of the Holy.
Go to
any book shop in Glastonbury - to Gothic Image, say, the
oldest New Age bookshop in the town, or the Speaking Tree,
both on the High Street - and you will see that it is filled
with countless books about Glastonbury, about its legends
and its history, about its myths, about its landscapes and
its healing, about its philosophy and its future and its
future place on the Earth. There is no town in the world
that has inspired so many words, so many books, so much
speculation. How many words, per head of population, has
this town generated? It would be a world-record, surely.
And
it is remarkable, too, how consistent Glastonbury has remained
over the centuries. If it is a tourist town now, it was
a pilgrimage town in the Middle Ages. And while you get
more than your fair share of buskers and beggars on the
High Street (more of an annoyance than a threat), then,
chances are, it was always full of hawkers and street people
and hurdy-gurdy men accosting you for your spare change.
Indeed, theres a wood-cut print in the entrance to
the town hall showing a particularly rowdy late Medieval
scene illustrating the fact that, in atmosphere at least,
nothing much has changed.
Well,
one thing has changed. As a Medieval place of pilgrimage,
the holiest in the British Isles - reputed as both the burial
place of King Arthur, and as the site of the earliest Christian
Church outside of the Holy Land - it was clearly associated
with Christianity. And while the Christian associations
continue, with the sedate, if slightly sterile, ruins of
the Abbey being a favoured visiting spot, and an annual
mid-summer march from the Tor to the town centre by visiting
churches, yet there is evidence now of many other kinds
of religious practice too: from Hindu Ashrams to Buddhist
meditation centres, from acupuncture to Indian head massage,
and with a multitude of New Age shops selling every conceivable
aid to spiritual development you could hope to find. Want
to buy a crystal, anybody? Glastonburys your place.
There must be a half-dozen crystal shops within a quarter
mile radius.
Well
all of this, from a Christian point of view, could be called
"pagan": the word being deployed, historically,
to denote any non-Christian religion. On the other hand,
it is doubtful whether Hindus or Buddhists, acupuncturists
or masseurs, would readily agree to accept the title, there
being an implied insult in the use of it. A pagan is a lost
person, a damned person: someone not swayed by the authority
of the Christian God, or of its institution on Earth, that
great historical-political entity, the Christian Church..
And
yet there are a number of people who would call themselves
pagan, many of them currently living and working in Glastonbury.
Ronald
Hutton, Professor of History at Bristol University (a regular
visitor to the town and author of a number of books on paganism)
puts it this way: "Paganism takes its place in Glastonbury
alongside esoteric Christianity, the Eastern religions and
Native American traditions, as part of the greatest shop
window for alternative spirituality the UK currently possesses."
What
is paganism?
Readers
of Prediction will probably already know the origins of
the word: from the Latin "paganus", meaning country-dweller,
or villager, corresponding to the English word heathen,
meaning the people of the heaths. Historically, then, paganism
was the religion of the countryside, as opposed to the town,
and implied a set of practices and beliefs having more to
do with the cycles and realities of nature than with the
abstractions and obfuscations of religious dogma. Country
people need to know when, exactly, to plant their crops,
when to harvest, when to rest, when to celebrate, and there
is always a clearly defined focus on fertility-rites in
their practices. They will be interested in the cycles of
death and rebirth, of sex and death, and more understanding
of people with specific knowledge of the healing properties
of herbs and plants. They will be less concerned with the
vagaries of philosophical speculation or the hierarchies
of religious institution. In other words, paganism is what
the people got up to when the priest wasnt looking.
Modern
paganism, then, can be understood as a kind of harking back
to another, practical-based, observational, non- hierarchical,
holistic world-view.
Ronald
Hutton, again:
"The
roots of paganism go right back to the end of the 18th century,
and, in a sense theyre one of the last, and most exciting
children of the romantic movement. In other words, theyre
bound up with a reaction to having too much civilisation,
against cities, against industry, against the subordination
of women, against the destruction of nature, and, as such,
they are peculiarly well-suited to a lot of modern needs.
Since first appearing they have developed into a number
of distinct traditions, but they are united by a respect
for the feminine that equals the masculine, a reverence
for the divine in nature, and an ethic of personal fulfilment.
And these three things are held together by an interest
in, and love of, images taken from the pre-Christian religions
of Europe."
Glastonbury
has proved particularly rich soil for the various expressions
of this new form of romance, ever since its rediscovery,
some time in the late sixties, by the hippie generation.
But
lets be clear about this. While the pagan belief-system
may be growing in popularity, there is as yet no agreed
canon or liturgy or priesthood or place or practice of worship.
People are free to make their own minds up. Perhaps - as
some people were keen to assert - it is better that it remains
that way.
Or,
as Bruce Garrard, proprietor of Unique Publications on St
Johns Square, and co-organiser of the Green Man Gathering,
said: "There isnt a pagan movement in Glastonbury
as such. Theres quite a number of people who call
themselves pagan or goddess-worshippers or various things,
but very little consensus about what paganism is."
And then he adds, somewhat mysteriously, "what you
do depends on what you believe."
So what
does he believe? Paradoxically he defines it by what he
does.
Bruces
particular form of spiritual practice involves a monthly
men-only sweat-lodge, held on full moon nights in the open
air.
"Its
a unique event," he says, "at one and the same
time a mens group type event, and a magical ritual."
The
ritual involves the setting up of a sacred circle, giving
acknowledgement to the four directions and the four elements
while calling in the spirits before, finally, loading preheated
stones into a canvass covered shelter. This is the sweat
lodge itself. The men then enter, naked, close the flap
behind them, and pour water on to the stones to raise steam.
In other words, it is a kind of ritualised sauna, but under
canvas, and in the open.
But
it is entirely different from a sauna, says Bruce. He has
a friend who has an actual brick-built sauna in his back
garden and has been invited to use it. But it wouldnt
be the same, he says.
So what
is the difference?
"The
monthly sweat lodges are my only spiritual practice. I dont
go to church or any of those kinds of things. It is a kind
of spiritual cleansing as well as a physical cleansing,
and is done with a sense of purpose."
Which
is what, exactly?
"Well
firstly it is to raise energy for the Green Man Gathering.
And then to get people in touch with their personal stuff,
with their feelings."
The
Green Man Gathering is an annual event, lasting three days
over the bank holiday at the end of May. Again it is men
only, once more having a sweat lodge as its centre piece,
but with group workshops and rituals and fire-side entertainment
as well, culminating in a Monday sharing circle to discuss
the outcome of the event.
There
is clearly a level of personal politics associated with
events like these, to do with sex and sexuality, with gender
identity and sexual role play, mens groups - with
or without ritual - being an outgrowth of the womens
groups favoured by the feminist movement of the last part
of the twentieth century.
The
Goddess Temple is yet another such outgrowth. Situated at
the bottom of Glastonbury High Street, in the courtyard
of the Glastonbury Experience, it is, according to Kathy
Jones, one of the organisers, "the first contemporary
Goddess Temple to have been created in Europe in perhaps
a thousand years."
Honouring
the Goddess.
The
Goddess Temple is the natural extension of the Goddess Conference
held at various venues in Glastonbury in early August (around
Lammas) for the last nine years, also, partly, as a result
of Kathy Jones efforts. But whereas the conference
is theoretical in nature, being mainly a discussion forum
for issues around Goddess-worship, the Temple is practical,
offering men and women of all persuasions a space in which
to pursue their thoughts. "It is open for people to
come and do Goddess ceremonies, meditations, workshops,
talks, healings, anything to do with the Goddess. The space
is available for people who are following different kinds
of paths within the Goddess tradition," she says. They
are currently applying for Home Office registration to make
the space an official religious building.
But
how would she define "the Goddess"?
"We
believe she is imminent and transcendent, personal and impersonal,
local and universal, within and without all creation,"
she says, intoning from their mission statement. "We
believe that she manifests and communicates through the
whole of nature and the sacred land, visions and dreams,
senses and experiences, imagination and prayer. We believe
that no form of words can ever encompass her."
Which
is a definition - it has to be said - so broad and all-embracing
as to be almost entirely useless.
But,
before we find ourselves stuck in some suburban cul-de-sac
of speculative reasoning, lets remind ourselves of
where we are. Because Glastonbury is, quite simply, one
of the most beautiful places on the planet, and there are
plenty of places to see, regardless of your particular spiritual
preferences, many of which carry a deep unearthly resonance.
Theres
the Chalice Well Gardens, for example, on the junction of
Chilkwell Street and Well House Lane, where the source of
one of the famous Glastonbury Springs rises, a place of
almost supernatural beauty, of air and water and fire and
elemental landscape, where various sculptures and pathways
have been incorporated into the natural world in a such
way that it echoes very deeply into the heart of any human
being. And while the guardians of the Trust do not espouse
any specifically pagan beliefs, the gardens themselves are
open to all forms of worship.
As Michael
Orchard, who, along with his wife, has been the guardian
of the Well since the Autumn of 1998 says: "We aim
to preserve Chalice Well as a site of sacredness and of
healing and to keep the space available for pilgrims and
those in need of healing, for people of all faiths and religions."
Alternative
Worship.
The
Trust itself holds non-denominational ceremonies in the
gardens at the various points in the year recognised by
a number of traditions as sacred, namely: at the Equinox,
the Solstices and at the four Celtic fire-festivals of Imbolg,
Beltane, Lughnasadh and Samhain (at Candlemas, Mayday, Lammas
and Halloween, to give them their respective Christian titles).
Indeed, if there is anything uniting the pagan tradition
it is the practice of worship at precisely these times of
the year, and pagans are invited to attend, or to organise
ceremonies of their own, out of hours. "As long as
they are in keeping with the Well and its aims and objectives,"
he adds.
Which
is to say, probably, that they dont condone the sacrifice
of virgins: not yet, or at least not in office hours.
Other
places worth visiting are: firstly, the Tor itself, with
its three-dimensional terraced maze, with the skeletal remains
of St Michaels church tower on top, an invigorating walk,
with a stupendous view from the crest; and, secondly, the
ruins of the Abbey, stately and serene, with the High Alter
being reputedly one of the most energetic power points in
the British Isles.
Both
of these places, incidentally, while bearing the inarguable
remains of an encrusted Christianity, also reveal signs
of a more ancient pagan past, in the form of prehistoric
egg-stones - fertility symbols again - secreted about their
parts. We will allow readers of the magazine to find these
for themselves.
It is
also worth noting that, while some people might declare
themselves as pagan, and make a great song-and-dance about
the fact, there are others, no less gifted of mind, who
would not openly pronounce such views. You are just as likely
to meet a talented tarot-reader, or someone with memories
of various past lives, capable of seeing into your own,
in one of the pubs or cafes in the town, going about their
business in an entirely unassuming way, as you would be
were you to hire the skills of a professional practitioner
taken from a card in one of the shop windows. Indeed, it
is highly likely that the woman serving you in the bread
shop knows more about the secret art of spell-making, than
all of the pundits selling their wares from recognised outlets
put together.
In other
words, it is best to keep an open mind.
One
final thing. Although it is clear from talking to people
that paganism is a disparate sort of philosophy, wide open
to a variety of interpretations, there are some expressions
that seem to embody its essence, at least in the physical
sense. One of these is the practice of decorating trees.
You will see this again and again throughout Glastonbury:
an innocent-looking tree in some quiet corner garlanded
with objects, with flowers and ribbons. It is this, more
than anything, that lends a charm to the town, and which
speaks of some belief in the mysterious power of nature,
with us, the human, at its heart.
For information about the Green Man Gathering contact:
Bruce Garrard, Unique Publications, 10, St. Johns Square,
Glastonbury, Somerset BA6 9LJ. Tel: 01458 834786.
For
information about the Goddess Temple and the Goddess Conference
contact: Kathy Jones. Tel: 01458 831518.
For
information about the Chalice Well Trust and Chalice Well
Gardens contact: Michael Orchard, Chalice Well Trust, Chilkwell
Street, Glastonbury, Somerset, BA6 8DD. Tel: 01458 831154.
CJ Stone 2003.