Chapter 5: Shipwreck (Кораблекрушение) 5 страница

 https://time.com/4307160/chernobyl-worst-nuclear-acci..

 

Article:

A raft of ide as. Medusa

When pictures become enormously famous they are less and less well attended to as paintings, more and more celebrated as emblems or narratives. Immobile behind the glass walls of their reputation, Leonardo's Mona Lisa and Constable's views of Suffolk have hardened into icons. Much the same goes for Théodore Géricault's The Raft of the Medusa. Its huddle of survivors, displayed in various poses of despair or desperate hopefulness, tell a story of such notorious misery that the artist's professional achievements are always threatening to sink beneath the weight of his subject. In one sense this is fine: Géricault meant to fix the tragedy of the raft in the mind of his audience; in another sense it is a form of diminishment: art-as-such plays second fiddle to incident-as-reproach - and warning.

Having said that, the greatest strength of Medusa lies in its recreation of the actual events in 1816 on which the painting is based - events which, when they filtered back to Europe, provoked an immediate and resonant scandal. The Medusa was en route to Senegal, carrying among others the governor-designate, the (amazingly named) Julien Schmaltz, who was due to take over the colony from the British. Shortly before reaching port, she was driven on to a sandbank by her inept captain, Hugues Duroy de Chaumereys - a relic of the ancien régime - and, during the attempt to flee the wreck, a party of lifeboats set off to the shore, towing an improvised raft that carried 147 survivors. In the ensuing panic and selfishness, the rope attached to the raft was deliberately cut, leaving the raft and its crew to their fate. After several days adrift, during which bad weather, rioting, murder, thirst and hunger did for all but 15 of those on board, it was eventually sighted by one of the Medusa's companion ships, the Argus. The death toll itself was bad enough, but when the survivors began telling their stories - of gross incompetence by senior officers, of infighting and even cannibalism - the episode was quickly reinterpreted as more than just a hideous accident. It was a means of indicting the Bourbon government as a whole and of investigating the baseline of human behaviour.

Andrew Motion's In the Blood: A Memoir of My Childhood is published by Faber https://www.theguardian.com/books/2007/apr/14/art

Article:

Why everyo ne should m ake a pilg rimage in B ritain (eve n atheists)

I was told, on arrival at the tiny station of Sandling in the depths of Kent, to “BYOB. Bring Your Own Beliefs.” I was spending the next four days with the British Pilgrimage Trust, a new movement bringing pilgrimages back to Britain. But these are not just holy journeys for devout Christians: committed atheists and everyone in between are welcomed and encouraged to embrace the idea of slow travel on foot with strangers.

My fellow pilgrims were exactly that melting pot: Olivia, 26, a film-maker escaping the daily grind; Karen, 42, an archaeologist advocating sustainable travel; John, 34, a plumber recovering from his father’s death; Jenny, 52, a psychologist exploring holistic healing; and Sandy, 60, a chef meditating on nature. And then there was me, 32, a regular church-goer approaching the pilgrimage as a faith-strengthening exercise. The trust’s founders, Guy Hayward (classical singer) and Will Parsons (“wandering minstrel”) were our leaders.

Each armed with a hazelwood staff, we headed into the sun-dappled forest around Sandling, our route devised from the early Gough Map of Britain. We were walking part of the Old Way, a medieval 220-mile pilgrims’ route from Southampton to Canterbury and the path that the four knights took on their way to murder Thomas Beckett, the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1170.

Our first stop was Saltwood Castle, home of the late politician and diarist Alan Clark. We filled our water bottles from the castle well (water filtered by Guy) while singing a jolly medieval song: “Water Flows, Life is Given/Rises from Earth, Falls from Heaven.”

Surging forward, we scaled ancient hilltops, explored woods, clambered up Iron Age burial mounds and foraged for berries. We circumambulated ancient churches – a practice drawing upon Buddhist, Islamic and Catholic influences –before resting our heads on the buildings’ stonework, inspired by pilgrims at Jerusalem’s Western Wall.

Inside, some of us prayed at the altar. “I was drawn there,” explained one of my walking companions, describing herself as “spiritual but not religious”. Others sat in the pews admiring the stained glass windows or reading the memorial stones. As Will put it: “If God does nothing for you, consider the many generations of local people who have shared silence and song in these places. Think of churches as living community hubs, places of common welcoming (baptism), joining (marriage) and saying goodbye (funerals). In them, something simply echoes.”

We picnicked in a field of sheep, finishing with creamy milk from a nearby farm. Suddenly life couldn’t get any better even if, in true British fashion, it began to rain. As dark descended, we completed our nine-mile stretch to Elham, an ancient market town where Wellington stayed when planning Waterloo. Bed was in the Rose & Crown (bigger groups sleep in the town hall).

After a hearty breakfast, we set off the next day for an 11-mile leg to Patrixbourne. An avenue of poplar trees brought us to Bedlam Wood, where we walked in silence, medieval style, tiptoeing “to allow the incredible wildlife of the woods to relax, and become more noticeable”, explained Will. It was blissful having the time to ponder.

Majestic country estates slipped past as we strolled along leafy lanes. After Bishopsbourne, well-endowed with timber-framed Tudor buildings, we arrived at St Mary’s Church, Patrixbourne – home for the night – to engage with the spirits of the place. We spread out across the church with our roll mats and snuggled into our sleeping bags, some under pews, others in the aisle and the chapel. Guy burst into song – the beauty of the singing soon dispersing any fear.

We were woken at 7am by the church bells and the piercing blue of the stained-glass windows. Andrea, the church warden, had provided bread and home-made jam for breakfast. Wild swimming in a pond in the nearby woods woke

everyone up (freezing cold). Today our goal was Canterbury – more than seven miles away, via Fordwich, the landing point for Julius Caesar’s army.

The rippling river Stour, dotted with fishermen, led us towards the steps of Canterbury Cathedral, where we sat in the front row for evensong, basking in the soaring voices of the choristers. After a night in a Canterbury hostel, our merry band set off, blurry eyed, at 6am to make the low tide at Whitstable – the “Finisterre” of the pilgrimage (named after Cape Finisterre, the final destination of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route). Now more comfortable with each other, we spent the morning thrashing out our views on the hot topics of the day.

Having put the world to rights, we arrived in time to walk “The Street”, a natural strip of shingle half a mile into the sea. As we reached the furthest point, I threw my staff into the sea. “Learning to let go with grace is a crucial practice,” Will had explained. So I let my staff continue on its journey as I turned back from mine.

By Harriet Compston

23 November 2017

 https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europ..

 

Article:

Lawrence Bees ley

Lawrence Beesley was an English science teacher, journalist, and author who survived the sinking of the RMS Titanic.

On the evening of April 14, Beesley saw two women in the Second Class Library. They were identified as Mary Emma Corey and Claire Karnes. It was the last time these two were reported alive; they died in the sinking even though they were second class women.

One of the survivors of the sinking of the Titanic in April 1912, Beesley wrote a successful book about his experience, The Loss of the SS Titanic (June 1912), published just nine weeks after the disaster. He saw two second class women who tried to get on a lifeboat and were told to go back to their own deck and that their lifeboats were waiting there.

At the time of Lifeboat 13's launching on the Boat Deck, no women or children were in immediate sight, but it seemed there was room for more. As a result, Beesley was ordered to jump into the lifeboat just before it launched. He managed to survive a subsequent incident, where Lifeboat 15 nearly came on top of No. 13. The leading fireman in charge of boat No.13, Fred Barrett, managed to cut the ropes connecting the boat to the falls at the last minute, and those in both boats emerged unharmed. Beesley and the rest of the survivors were picked up by the RMS Carpathia early morning on April 15.

During the filming of A Night to Remember (1958), Beesley famously gatecrashed the set during the sinking scene, hoping to "go down with the ship" that time. But he was spotted by the director, Roy Ward Baker, who vetoed this unscheduled appearance, due to actors' union rules. These events are parodied in Julian Barnes' novel A History of the World in 10.5 Chapters, where Beesley makes a brief appearance as a fictional character.

Beesley was portrayed by actor David Warner (who went on to portray Spicer Lovejoy in the 1997 film) in the 1979 dramatization of the voyage and sinking, S.O.S. Titanic. He is the grandfather of New York Times science editor Nicholas Wade. Beesley was also portrayed by Lawrence Bennett in 1999 musical stage adaptation Titanic.

 https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2284933/Tita..

 

Article:

Jonah: A “ Fish Story” o r History?

By Wayne J ackson

Several years ago, Edwin Settle wrote a syndicated news article titled “Jonah’s big fish story teaches important lesson.” Mr. Settle was a former college professor (COE College) and minister with a doctorate from Yale Divinity School. In his article, he attacked the book of Jonah by stating: “The book of Jonah cannot be accepted as history” (Settle, B-4).

Professor Settle listed several alleged inaccuracies contained in the book. It is incredible that one could be alive for three days in a fish’s belly. Jonah also speaks of “weeds wrapped about [his] head,” which does not fit the description of being inside a fish. While there was a king of Assyria, there was no “king of Nineveh,” as suggested in the book. The descriptive that Nineveh was a city of “three days journey” is erroneous; the metropolis was not nearly so large.

In spite of these supposed blunders, Dr. Settle contends that there are valuable spiritual truths in the book of Jonah (e.g., nations ought to live peaceably with one another, etc.). He suggests that we should learn important lessons of this ancient document and allow them to motivate us toward a higher level of ethical existence. Prior to giving some consideration to the accusations contained in Settle’s misguided diatribe, a couple of preliminary observations are in order.

First, it is certainly a curious twist of logic that contends one can be motivated toward a more mature level of spiritual responsibility by reflecting on a narrative filled with lies. How does error support truth? That makes no sense whatsoever.

Second, if the book of Jonah is actually a fictitious account with no historical basis, what does this do to the credibility of Jesus of Nazareth? The Lord plainly declared that Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish (Mt. 12:40). He even argued this event was a typological preview of his confinement in the tomb for the same period of time.

If the episode regarding Jonah never happened, Christ reasoned falsely, and his divine status is clearly impeached.

Is the book of Jonah filled with historical fiction as charged?

Incredible survival

The fact is, the record clearly states that “God prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah” (Jon. 1:17). The objection thus actually looks like an atheistic mentality.

That aside, even from a strictly naturalistic viewpoint, survival after being swallowed by huge fish is not impossible. In the late 1920s, a seaman was swallowed by a large sperm whale in the vicinity of the Falkland Islands. After three days, he was recovered unconscious but alive, though he had some damage to his skin (Harrison, 907).


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