Stukeley's Stonehenge: An Unpublished Manuscript, 1721-1724 Book

[9/10]
I understand now why this Alhambra book is sold at every news stand and souvenir boutique in the city of Granada, translated in every major tourist language. Washington Irving account of his visit to the palatial complex around 1830 is almost single handedly responsible for reviving interest in the almost ruined 'pile' of masonry, in its chivalrous histories and spooky legends. It is both a blessing and curse. A blessing because it allowed the palace to be restored and maintained. A curse because it marks the start of the 'tourist' age, of the Western World turning its eye towards the monuments of the past and turning them into profitable enterprises (and robbing the natives - Greeks, Egyptians, etc - of their cultural artefacts as a side venture).



Reading through the essays and journal entries the first sentiment I experienced is one of envy: Mr Irving had the whole palace to himself, for a months long visit, sleeping in the royal chambers, strolling through the gardens under the moonlight, taking his lunches by the lions fountain, daydreaming about warrior kings and Arabian princesses secluded in ancient towers. I had to share my visit with a few thousand fellow tourists, always pushed from behind to make room for the next batch, waiting in vain for long minutes to capture an image of the arabesques on the walls without anyone photobombing me, always with with an eye on the clock to see how much I have left before the closing time. Even so, the place worked its magic on me, its poetry written in intricate stone paterns, slim collonades and airy halls, everywhere accompanied by the sussuration of water from alabaster fountains. A visit to the Alhambra is not complete in my opinion without Mr. Irving's book in the pocket, retracing his steps in the gardens of Generalife or gazing out El Mirador de Lindaraja.



The book starts with a chapter on Andaluzia, the southernmost province of Spain and the one that remained longest under Moorish occupation. As Irving journeys towards the fabled palace of the Nasrid caliphs, we get the first taste of his romantic sensibilities, of his extensive research into past events for the places in his path, of his keen observations of present people and their customs, of his amiable sense of humour. Here's a passage that explains the Arab passion for water:

Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a soft southern region, decked out with the luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are exceptions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is a stern, melancholy country, with rugged mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary character of Africa.

As a proto-professional tourist and guide book writer, Irving is not fussy about food or accommodation, makes easy friends with the locals, and is genuinely interested in everything around him:

Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads and sumptuous hotels, and all the elaborate comforts of a country cultivated and civilized into tameness and commonplace; but give me the rude mountain scramble; the roving, haphazard, wayfaring; the half wild, yet frank and hospitable manners, which impart such a true game flavor to dear old romantic Spain!

Once he gets to his destination, it is love at first sight for Irving, discovering the delicate arabesques hidden behind stern exterior walls. He decides on the spot to extend his visit and is enthusiastic when he is offered residence inside the palace grounds.



To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and poetical, so inseparably intertwined in the annals of romantic Spain, the Alhambra is as much an object of devotion as is the Caaba to all true Moslems.

History and poetry is what it comes down to for the rest of the book, often the whimsical fancy of the author is difficult to discern form the historical accurate fact. Irving the scholar who reads carefully through dusty archives is inseparable from Irving the dreamer who eats up every yarn about ghosts and buried treasure and knightly exploits. Looking across the Vega (plain) of Granada from the top of the Torre de Comares, he sees the armies of Christians and Muslims kings fighting for control of the richest province in Southern Spain. He knows the story behind every tower and mountain peak and potentate that passed through here centuries ago.

The present times are not ignored, and some chapters deal with the current conditions inside the palace, with the presentation of the ragged band of squatters and administrators in the site, with the occasional noble guest and his entourage. Some passages illustrate the talent of the author to find the quirky and the funny side of day to day trivia, like The Truant , a short piece about an adulterous pidgeon, or this sketch about fishing:

It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress has rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place for swallows and martlets, who sport about its towers in myriads, with the holiday glee of urchins just let loose from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favorite amusements of the ragged "sons of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art of angling in the sky.

Some observations are well ahead of their time, as this quote about graffity and the lack of respect from a certain category of visitor:

The walls had evidently in ancient times been hung with damask; but now were naked, and scrawled over by that class of aspiring travellers who defile noble monuments with their worthless names.

Of particular interest in the presentation is Washington Irving's unbiased report, even admiration, for the superiority of Arab civilization over their less developed at the time Northern neighbours, acknowledging the economic, scientific, cultural and social achievements of a people who have often been maliciously slandered for their different religion. History shows though that the Moorish domination of the Peninsula marks the longest period of civil cohabitation (about 8 centuries) between the three major monotheistic religions: christians, muslims and jews. Cordoba, Seville, Granada were centers of learning famous the world over, well before Sorbonne and Cambridge.



Among the visitors of medieval Alhambra, Irving makes a special note for Ibn Battuta, a Moroccan explorer. He is known for his extensive travels, accounts of which were published in the Rihla (lit. "Journey"). Over a period of thirty years, Battuta visited most of the known Islamic world as well as many non-Muslim lands. His journeys included trips to North Africa, the Horn of Africa, West Africa and Eastern Europe in the West, and to the Middle East, South Asia, Central Asia, Southeast Asia and China in the East, a distance surpassing threefold his near-contemporary Marco Polo. (source wikipedia)

from the book: Laying the foundations of their power in a system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cultivating the arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manufactures, and commerce; they gradually formed an empire unrivalled for its prosperity by any of the empires of Christendom; and diligently drawing round them the graces and refinements which marked the Arabian empire in the East, at the time of its greatest civilization, they diffused the light of Oriental knowledge, through the Western regions of benighted Europe.

Regarding the journal and the historical notes, I have only one small complaint: I would have loved to have more examples of Arabian poetry translated

How beauteous is this garden,
where the flowers of the earth
vie with the stars of the heaven!
What can compare with the vase
of yon alabaster fountain
filled with crystal water?
Nothing but the moon in her fulness,
shining in the midst of an unclouded sky!



Let's say the reader is not as interested as me in travel journals or in historical trivia. I would still recommend reading the book for its fictional stories, some of the best examples of Gothic / Romantic prose , here in a serendipitous cohabitation with the oral storytelling techniques of the Arabian Nights.

A mason is waken up in the middle of the night by a ghost from the past and then led blindfolded to a secret court with a fountain, where he is paid to bury a treasure. An astrologer learns the secrets of the book of the dead inside an Egyptian pyramid and later performs miracles for a king of Granada. A Celtic enchantress puts same wizard to sleep with her harp music. Prince Ahmed Al Kamel, The Pilgrim of Love, learns the language of birds and goes on a quest for his lovely Christian virgin, in the company of a wise owl and a socialite parrot. A poor laborer is rewarded for his kindness to a stranger with the key to another buried treasure, and later uses his wits to outsmart a greedy governor. His best friend is a donkey, which reminds me of the popular Turkish folk tales featuring Nasreddin Hoca. Three beautiful princesses, Zayda, Zorayda and Zorahayda, are locked in a tower by their father. They too, outwit the plans of their king and master: There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will, particularly when about the marriageable age, which is not to be deterred by dangers and prohibitions . A poor student earns his keep by singing serenades at street corners, while a lecherous priest keeps a nubile pet lamb with smouldering eyes around to warm his aged bones.

These are just a few examples of my favorite stories in the book. Ghosts, ancient treasure, beautiful and unavailable princesses, wise alchemists, proud warriors and wily commoners are recurrent themes in all of them. The prose is beautiful (sometimes florid), often humorous, informative and respectful of past glories. Who cares if the tales are true or the product of Irving's imagination?

If any thing in these legends should shock the faith of the over-scrupulous reader, he must remember the nature of the place, and make due allowances. He must not expect here the same laws of probability that govern commonplace scenes and everyday life; he must remember that he treads the halls of an enchanted palace, and that all is "haunted ground."

In one of the final essays, the author touches on the function of literature as more than entertainment, in providing role models and wisdom and beauty:

In the present day, when popular literature is running into the low levels of life, and luxuriating on the vices and follies of mankind; and when the universal pursuit of gain is trampling down the early growth of poetic feeling, and wearing out the verdure of the soul, I question whether it would not be of service for the reader occasionally to turn to these records of prouder times and loftier modes of thinking; and to steep himself to the very lips in old Spanish romance.

The call of duty will cut short Irving's sejour, and with him, I would now say goodbye to the place:



My serene and happy reign in the Alhambra was suddenly brought to a close by letters which reached me, while indulging in Oriental luxury in the cool hall of the baths, summoning me away from my Moslem Elysium to mingle once more in the bustle and business of the dusty world. How was I to encounter its toils and turmoils, after such a life of repose and reverie! How was I to endure its common-place, after the poetry of the Alhambra!

Soundtrack selection:
- Loreena McKennit - Nights in the Alhambra (live from Palacio de Carlos V)
- Paco de Lucia - Fuente y Caudal
- Camaron de la Isla - Best of
- Ottmar Liebert - Nouveau Flamenco



edit 2015: something happened to the image links, and I'm trying to get them back