Beyond the Notes | 11. At the Haunted End of the Day
In a visually overstimulated world, our senses remain ever-fascinated by the juncture between the known and the unknown. In a world of explanation, we still ask "do you believe in ghosts?"
Welcome to Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge. If you find the fleeting changes of modern life wearisome, maybe even overwhelming, join me on a journey, a path well-trodden, as I share heartfelt and often nostalgic reflections on living slowly, simply, and in tune with the seasons.
In this series, I share some of the pieces of music which have meant the most to me in my life, and the stories behind why they resonate so strongly within a life lived slowly and simply.
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Haunted.
The very word itself electrifies our vivid imaginations.
We live in a visually overstimulated world. All around us, on television, at the cinema, on our phones and computers, and even on the electronic hoardings at bus stops, scenes are played out, often in realtime, every detail captured, not only in glorious technicolour, but in high-definition. 100 years ago, most of this wasn’t possible. 200 years ago, it was unheard of. Our visual consumption was primarily restricted to drawings and paintings. But of course, our ancestors had vivid imaginations, just as we did.
The unknown and tales of ghostly hauntings have inspired and stimulated us for generations. Whilst in the past, our ancestors didn’t have access to the visual content we have today, gothic novels, ghostly tales and dark poetry were ever part of their lives. These days, many people actively seek opportunities to be scared, through horror films, realistic theme park rides, and dark computer games. For many, the scarier the better. These things have never appealed to me. Horror, science fiction and fantasy are all genres which have passed me by. I wonder if I prefer to use my own imagination than to have someone else’s creepy, gory and horrifying interpretation brought before me?
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Do you believe in ghosts?
It’s a question which, even in our modern world of explanation, is still asked and hotly debated. As a child, my aunt and uncle who lived in a succession of old houses and farmhouses, recounted tales of the ghosts they’d seen as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It never felt scary, and their description of the old woman, wrapped in a shawl, spinning by the fire, felt somehow comforting. They accepted these characters from the past as part of the history of the house in which they now lived. They were inherited with the property, and none of us ever thought to question them.
Even Granny, a devoted Christian, had forays into the world of the occult. Like many of us, she was fascinated by the unknown and the unexplainable. However guilty she must have felt, and however wicked and un-Christian it must have seemed, the unexplainable taunts us, that somehow in a world of certainty, there is much we don’t know. She read books by Martin Israel, a pathologist turned Anglican priest, latterly president of the Churches’ Fellowship for Psychical and Spiritual Studies, a man who claimed to have regular contact with the dead. At the juncture between Christianity, science, the known and the unknown, is a dark melting pot.
Deep down, we are all fascinated by these things. Many years ago, I wrote this poem, Lost, and whilst it was never intended to be ghostly or haunting, the last line still sends a shiver down my spine:
She sits,
lost in another world.
The cool breeze touches her neck,
trying to feather a response:
Nothing.
She sits,
staring into a world of nothing,
yet, a world of everything,
seen and unseen:
Nothing.
She sits,
faced with a fractured world.
Is this what she wants to be part of?
Does she know who she is, or what she wants?
Still, nothing.
She sits,
then a momentary glance relieves the tension.
Has she woken up to the world?
Is she still lost?
Is she really here at all?
In a world were we’re encouraged to be present and the enjoy every moment, I think that sometimes, we forget those things and people are are not present. Are we really here at all? In later life, Granny, whose mind remained sharp until the very end, recounted appearances by her late husband, where, arms outstretched, she begged to be taken, to suffer the pain no longer. She died on 9th October 2004, 52 years to the day after her husband. Some things are too much of a coincidence to ever be explained.
Myth, legend and folklore has inspired many composers, not least, William Walton, and his epic opera, Troilus and Cressida. ‘At the haunted end of the day’, seems to so perfectly capture the way in which the darkness and the unknown stimulates our senses. The iconic voice of Dame Janet Baker brings the deep sense of loss and darkness to the fore:
Perhaps in the past, we were more accepting of the unknown. In a world of never-ending visual stimulation, we should allow ourselves moments to return to simpler things, to words and poetry which allow us to conjure up unique and vidid scenes in our imaginations. We remain ever-fascinated by the space between the known and the unknown, and it continues to inspire our creativity, stimulate our senses, and offer us opportunities to imagine.
At the haunted end of the day, we are still minded to ask “do you believe in ghosts?”
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Mmmm, Janet Baker's voice. Absolutely glorious. And ghosts? I'm not sure.
I loved this piece, David. I saw a ghost as a child, having been awoken one night by someone running up the stairs. It was dismissed by my parents at the time, no doubt to calm me, but years later my father confessed he had seen her too. I shall never forget it. I love Janet Baker, a peerless voice and such a lovely person too.