Tavistock and THE Library

So, why am I just a little excited everytime I hit the streets of London? Let me illustrate. On landing a couple of days ago, I rode the Gatwick Express into London and took the tube to the Euston/St. Pancras station in order to register at my hotel and drop my backpack. Just outside in the square in front of the station is a ten-foot high statue and tribute stone dedicated to Robert Louis Stevenson. Then, I stroll past the historic church of St. Pancras to Hotel Tavistock. Located on a lovely square, the hotel itself is named for the park that sits before it. Tavistock park was dedicated about thirty years ago to acts and people who contribute to world peace and diversity. Since one side of the square is the home of the British Medical Association (with a museum, of course), they thought a park dedicated to honoring life might be an appropriate idea. In the center of the park is a large bronze of Ghandi, legs crossed and still looking as if he needed a meal (he´d decline, of course). This is no passive site; each time I passed through the park, someone was kneeling at Ghandi´s feet or laying flowers on the granite pedistal on which the figure sat. Today, in fact, someone had covered the statue itself with yellow daisies. In one corner of that same garden is a bronze bust of Virginia Woolf--I´m happy she finally found "a room of her own."

Sunday, I attended eucharist and evensong (an evening service that´s mostly sung) at St. Pancras. Named for a young boy, Pancratius--a third-century saint, the church is built in neo-classic style after the form of a Greek temple and was completed in 1822. This is the second St. Pancras; the remains of the first, built in the eleventh century, are around the corner. I had never attended a Chruch of England (C of E, for future reference) service. It is much the same as an American Episcopal service; I enjoyed the homily very much. The highlight of evensong was a beautiful rendering of "Be thou my Vision" by the choir--certainly worth the visit.

And then there´s the library. Now, I know that there are some very good libraries in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, but the British Library was just six blocks from the hotel. I went in to register as a reader so I could order materials when I return to England in a few weeks. That was all. I had promised Dianna not to do too much looking around because we wanted to explore the exhibits together. I failed. I couldn´t help it! Right around the corner from the entrance was the first exhibit hall showing maps of London that were as old as the ninth century--AND the exhibit was due to end in two weeks--four weeks before Dianna arrives. I went in. Great stuff. But then that exhibit hall connected to another. At the very first glass case was a copy of Shakepeare´s First Folio (1623), three early printed versions of individual plays, a deed signed by Shakespeare, a hand-written manuscript of a play by Ben Jonson, and a document by King James requesting a masque from Jonson. That was it--I was hooked. I looked at the first and only original copy (9th cent) of Beowulf (Beowulf, people!), the original working copy of Seamus Heaney´s translation of Beowulf (it won the National Book Award a few years ago), illustrated copies of Chaucer´s Canterbury Tales from 1410 and 1415, and more additional illustrated manuscripts than I can relate here. These included, by the way, a collection of illustrated prayer books dating from between 1100 and 1500. And then there was the Magna Carta. Yep, in a room dedicated for that purpose alone, they had on display an original, signed and sealed copy of the 1215 version and a copy of the 1225 version that was actually enacted into law.

That´s why I get excited when I go to London. Nevertheless, when I write next, I´ll be in sunny Spain.