Norwich: One Cathedral and One Saint

From the far north in Northumbria, I took the GNER (Great North Eastern Rainroad) train to Ely (pronounced "e-le," not e-li) where I made the change to local rail so I could continue through to Norwich (pronounced "nor-ridge"--ain't those English folks funny?). I arrived late in the evening, past seven, and had a little trouble finding a hotel. The small, private hotels were already full, and the Old Maid's Head, the historic hotel built in the 16th century, wanted the equivalent of $220 for a one-night, single. So, I settled for the Travel Lodge at the rail station; pretty boring, I know, but I am almost at the end of my travels and my reasons for coming to town had nothing really to do with hotels.

Usually, my first stop in a town in the tourist information office to pick up a list of opening and closing times for attractions and places of historic interest. In Norwich, however, I had one clear destination, and it didn't matter to me that I was sure to arrive before any doors were open to me. I went directly to the tiny church of St. Julian of Norwich. It's located in a poor part of Norwich, down the river and near where the tidal sweep of the ocean can reach up the fresh waters of town. The neighborhood still preserves a pair of timbered merchant houses built in the 14th century among the dilapidated apartments. Turning up St. Julian's Alley, a street that has been on city maps for 600 years, I came to the churchyard wedged between an auto shop and what had once been a grocery store. And there it was--St. Julian's Church.

At 10:00, a caretaker arrived to open the church door. I went immediatly inside, walked to the south wall, and opened the door of a small room. I settled quietly onto a prayer bench against the wall. This is where my idea for my Faculty Development Leave had begun. In a way, I felt like this is where it ended.

We don't know the name of the woman who spent 40 years living and working in this small cell sometime late in the 14th century. She is called "Julian," but her name is really just that of the location where she chose to devote her life as an Anchoress--a Medieval woman who lived alone in order to engage in spiritual exercises. She is so self-effacing that she never names herself in her work "Sixteen Revelations of Divine Love." What she accomplished is nothing less than the first work know to have been written in English by a woman. She survived a series of plagues that racked her country and saw her efforts to discover a self-directed life reined in by male mentors. Nevertheless, she produced this remarkable book and became a sage whom other women and men sought out by pilgrimage. Most notably, Margery Kempe writes in her own autobiography that she met Julian just before the latter's death around 1416.

In fact, three years ago I began reading these two women's works with an eye to developing a paper discussing how women discovered avenues of rhetorical power between the 14th and 15th centuries. They both mentioned the power accrued through pilgrimage; Kempe had, indeed, walked the Camino de Santiago. And that set me to thinking. Both Chaucer's Wife of Bath had also been to Santiago, and I began to wonder why pilgrimage offered women not only a path to holiness but also a road to self-expression and community esteem. I decided to make this the starting point for my Faculty Development Leave.

And so I sat in Julian's cell. I've read her works, but now I have touched her life with a visit to these few square feet. Inside this cell, she became one of the most powerful religious figures of her time. Norwich has a beautiful cathedral begun in 1094 that boasts the second-highest tower in all England, and the town is home to 30 churches that remain from the Gothic period. Streets are cobbled from flint stones, and 14th-century houses still reveal their oak timber skeletons. But I spent my morning with an un-named woman in a small, single-naved church with an 1,100-year-old foundation.

Today, I'm in London where I have been joined (after all this time!) by my wife, Dianna. We plan to augment the tourist economy. I'll try to make a few more entries--perhaps not about seeing "Cabaret," although we already have tickets for tomorrow night. I'll write about Canterbury and Salisbury, perhaps, but for me the last day of my pilgrimage will always be the day I spent in Norwich.