The Spire: With an introduction by John Mullan

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T he Spire was published in 1964. The Dean of a cathedral, Jocelin, wants to add a spire to the building, which has no foundations and is therefore a kind of miracle already. The novel is about the second, highly imperfect miracle, the erection of the spire – and the cost, which is financial, physical and spiritual. And it is about creative realisation, bringing the impossible into being. William Golding wrote the first draft of The Spire in 14 days – itself a kind of miracle. Nu știu exact care e miza autorului, nici nu prea mă interesează. Lectura a fost iar potrivită, având în vedere ultimele "bârfe". Nu condamn construcția de biserici și edificii:)). Poate că pe parcursul istoriei unii capi de biserică au fost mai preocupați de ziduri decât de oameni, fie și așa. Nu sunt oare atât de frumoase?! Bine că le-au făcut! Să nu ne plângem, se preocupă Hristos de noi și noi unii de alții.

I first read The Spire in my sophomore year of college. The course was ENGL 200 - "The Literary Experience" - in which we were to read a sampling of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and drama. The Spire was our example of a novel. The professor told us up front what the major metaphor/motif was: the church spire Dean Jocelin struggles to raise is a phallic symbol. It's a penis. We all giggled.Second readings are dangerous enterprises. Anything can happen. When I first read this novel, I thought the Spire, that gives the name to the title, stood defiantly by the end of the book. My attention was focused on the descriptions of how architects and builders managed to pull up the complex architectural structures that miraculously were built during the Middle Ages. I did not pay too much attention to the writing. At the time, my English did not have strong foundations, and it was as much a guess-work as the art & craft of the medieval masons. Religious imagery is used towards the end of the novel, where Jocelin lies dying. Jocelin declares "it's like the apple-tree!", making a reference to the Garden of Eden and Humanity's first sin of temptation but also perhaps the pagan ideas that have been constantly threaded into Jocelin's mind as he spends more and more time up in the Spire, raised above the ground (and further away from his church and his role as God's voice on earth). The concept of a cathedral spire piercing the sky as a spiritual as well an architectural statement is a metaphor of longstanding. I thought of the line from Robert Browning's poem, "A man's reach should extend his grasp, or what is a heaven for?" With William Golding's The Spire, there seems irretrievable space between the reach & the grasp, an obsessive descent rather than an uplifted "prayer in stone". That said, the telling of this tale is at times magical but almost always frustratingly dark & cheerless. I grasp why a few reviewers found the novel disappointing & even confounding to read but there is also ample reward for the reader's perseverance with this & other Golding novels. Jocelin may feel he is "comforted" by an angel – but we can't help but feel that the angel is a sign of his madness, or, in fact, a devil. Jocelin's act of faith is folly. This might be the finest historical fiction that I have read to date - partly because it works through atmosphere rather than detail.

Kule; evet bir Sineklerin Tanrısı değil. Ancak şu takıntıdan kurtulalım artık. Bu başka bir roman. (Nasıl da kendi takıntımı sizlere mal ettim ama:) Or, in his perhaps more realistic moments, it is the realisation of Jocelin's extraordinary "will". It is what he has been able to force on the world through the power of his mind. It is a testament – as Jocelin himself frequently urges those around him to see it – to the power of faith. The Spire was envisioned by Golding as a historical novel with a moral struggle at its core, which was originally intended to have two settings: both the Middle Ages and modern day. [4] Whilst teaching at Bishop Wordsworth's School, Golding regularly looked out of his classroom window at Salisbury Cathedral and wondered how he would possibly construct its spire [5] But the book's composition and eventual realisation of The Spire was not an easy process for Golding. According to his daughter, Judy Carver, Golding 'struggled like anything to write The Spire' and said that the novel 'went through many drafts'; this was perhaps owing to the fact that he had stopped teaching which, in turn, gave him more time to write. [6] On the basis of that reality – and although it contradicts my scant knowledge of Salibsury Cathedral (which is to say, that it still exists and it has a spire), I'd be tempted to guess that the tower did not survive. There was calamity foretold in the way those supporting pillars bent and sang, and in the way Roger and Rachel Mason, Pangall and Goody (who represented the pillars in Jocelin's mind) all broke. Then there was actual catastrophe in the great climactic storm that plunged such large sections of masonry down to earth – and Jocelin along with them. Given what happens in the bulk of the novel, it would be almost miraculous if the spire survived. I have so much will, it puts all other business by. I am like a flower that is bearing fruit. There is a preoccupation about the flower as the fruit swells and the petals wither; a preoccupation about the whole plant, leaves dropping, everything dying but the swelling fruit. That's how it must be. My will is in the pillars and the high wall. I offered myself; and I am learning. (92) I thought it would be simple. I thought the spire would complete a stone bible, be the apocalypse in stone. I never guessed in my folly that there would be a new lesson at every level, and a new power. Nor could I have been told. I had to build in faith, against advice. That's the only way. (103) 'I tell you, we guess. We judge that this or that is strong enough; but we can never tell until the full strain comes on it whether we were right or wrong.' (111) '...D'you think you can escape? You're not in my net—oh yes, Roger, I understand a number of things, how you are drawn, and twisted, and tormented—but it isn't my net. It's His. We can neither of us avoid this work. And there's another thing. I've begun to see how we can't understand it either, since each new foot reveals a new effect, a new purpose. It's senseless, you think. It frightens us, and it's unreasonable. But then—since when did God ask the chosen ones to be reasonable? They call this Jocelin's Folly, don't they?'Throughout the Dean's language is centred on glorifying the cathedral, but as the novel progresses it is clear that his motivations are more confused and complex. At one moment the Dean has a vision of his spire reaching up into the heavens casting an ever longer shadow across the countryside. Visible from further and further afield more distant travellers and traders turn their feet towards his cathedral. He sees the routes and roads shift to centre on to his town as the new spire becomes a major landmark. There's never any doubt about the phallic symbolism of the spire – but there are variations in its meaning. At first it rises from the belly of the church as a fairly straightforward expression of Jocelin's pride and power. Yet the imagery becomes ever more dangerous and unpleasant. We see workmen waving models of it between their legs. It is the centre of the apparent rape of Goody Pangall. It then seems, for a while at least, to promise a kind of fertility, a hope of life and love, when Goody falls pregnant and has an adulterous affair with the master builder Roger Mason. But in this novel, such hopes breed death and madness. And afterwards, as the tower sways and looks set to fall, there is hopeless impotence. It doesn't quite make sense, or it doesn't make immediate sense. It is like Gerard Manley Hopkins's opening trump, "As kingfishers catch fire …" Kingfishers don't catch fire. Hopkins is using a metaphor to capture the burst of colours given off by the kingfisher. Ted Hughes uses the same idea of combustion for bold colours in "Macaw and Little Miss", a poem from his first book, The Hawk in the Rain: "the macaw bristles in a staring / combustion …" The brilliant extra touch is that adjective "staring" appended to "combustion". All the indignation peculiar to the macaw is there.

In Golding's opening sentence we read "God the Father was exploding in his face …" which is initially as enigmatic as it is dramatic – until it is resolved as a metaphorical description of sunlight streaming through a stained glass window. The delay is important. There is a semantic lag, a slight, postponed understanding throughout The Spire. Another metaphor for the spire that Golding proposes is Jocelin's late exclamation that 'It is like an appletree!'A most remarkable book, as unforeseeable as one foresaw, an entire original... remote from the mainstream, potent, severe, even forbidding." – Frank Kermode, New York Review of Books, 30 April 1964. Set in the twelfth century A.D. (or C.E. or whatever you want to call it), this fantastic novel tells the story of Dean Jocelin of a cathedral that I’m pretty sure is supposed to be Salisbury Cathedral and his single-minded obsession with adding a 400 foot spire to the building. The trouble with this is that this is physically impossible, as the master builder he has hired to do the work keeps trying to tell him, due to the foundations of the cathedral not being deep enough to support the extra load. urn:lcp:spire0000gold_n6f6:epub:fc2d5db0-824c-48a2-b99e-a4062f6bd9c2 Foldoutcount 0 Identifier spire0000gold_n6f6 Identifier-ark ark:/13960/t37186j2s Invoice 1652 Isbn 0571064922