Aubrey Burl (1926–2020)

https://fromtheheartofeurope.eu/a-brief-history-of-stonehenge-by-aubrey-burl/

I’ve long been fascinated by megalithic monuments in general, and Stonehenge is a very special case, one of the most elaborate stone circles of northwestern Europe. We visited in 2016; it’s pretty crowded these days.

Aubrey Burl was the doyen of British megalithic studies, publishing his first book on stone circles in the 1970s and inspiring many other enthusiasts. This was his last book, published in 2007 when show more he was already 81 (he died in the early weeks of the 2020 pandemic, aged 93).

It’s a generally lucid explanation of the archaeological sequence of the development of Stonehenge, which (as you possibly know) went through several evolutions over a period of 1500 years from 3100 to 1600 BC, the massive trilithons coming in around 2500 BC, though built on a smaller but much older alignment of stones from maybe 8000 BC. These are barely imaginable timelines on a human scale. There are a couple of churches across the Dijle valley from here which have been in use since the eleventh century, and the oldest church in Belgium claims to have been founded in 823 AD. Across the border, the Protestant church in Trier was built as the emperor’s throne room in 1700, and the Roman gate of the city still stands. But these are individual buildings, rather than an entire sacred landscape. Burl is very good at giving us a sense of how Stonehenge and its setting would have seemed to the people who built it, and rebuilt it.

He also starts well, with a review of how Stonehenge came to popular attention 300 years ago, and often refers back to earlier writers. There’s one chapter, unfortunately, where the prose becomes rambling and disjointed, and it’s the most controversial chapter, in which Burl insists that the older standing stones (the ‘bluestones’) were not transported to Wiltshire from Wales by prehistoric humans, but by Ice Age glaciers long before. This is not well supported by the known evidence of known glaciation, even according to Burl’s own account.

Another curious lapse is his attempt to demonstrate that there is a prehistoric substratum of words in Welsh, Breton and Cornish which are unrelated to other neighbouring languages. He seems to be completely unaware of two centuries of research into Indo-European, which has demonstrated that quite a lot of the Celtic words that he sees as independent are in fact related to similar words in English and Latin: for example Welsh rhew and Cornish rew, meaning ‘ice’, come from the same root as English ‘freeze’ and Latin pruina, meaning ‘frost’; and more crucially for his argument, Welsh haul and Breton heol, meaning ‘sun’, are definitely related to Latin sol. It’s an odd lacuna on Burl’s part.

Apart from that, I found it a fascinating read. show less

A very uneven, disappointing book. When it sticks to the poetry, the book is captivating and thought provoking. However, the author also tries to add historical context, and this is where the book goes badly wrong. History and cultural studies are added, without rhyme or reason, throughout the work, interrupting the flow. And the historical or cultural information that is added is neither particularly well written nor insightful. I felt glad to know more about Catullus' poetry, but otherwise show more cheated by the time spent reading this book. Avoid it like the plague. show less

Much more accessible to casually interested amateurs/armchair tourists/real tourists than Dr Burl's earlier, erudite work Stone Circles of the British Isles (1976). That one was an outstanding work of scholarship; this one is a keeper.

Both the photograph and the text are stellar.

The life of one of France’s most eminent medieval poets remains shrouded in mystery, which is hardly surprising for a man who lived in the mid 15th century and was not either a noble, a cleric, a famous mercenary fighter or a great land owner. We must rely on Villon’s own writing, which is helpfully autobiographical in nature and from some of the criminal records of the time. Aubrey Burl’s task then is not an easy one, but in erring perhaps a little too much towards a popular biography show more he has produced an entertaining but not always balanced read.

Much of the information about Villon comes from his poetry, especially his Magnum Opus The Testament, which stretches to 205 stanzas and contains within it; ballads, songs and rondeau. A biographer one would think should be asking himself; how reliable a witness would a convicted criminal be, who uses his pen to pour out his scorn against his enemies in verses of biting satire? However in the absence of very little other information Burl tends to take Villon very much at his word and perhaps this is the sensible option. Burl’s wide reading of: I suspect mainly secondary sources has enabled him to piece together a story of Villon’s “colourful” life, but how accurate a story remains uncertain.

Using Villon’s own poetry as a source for details of his life has led Burl to surmise on the many characters named in The Testament and he takes the opportunity to indulge in some criticism of the poetry. Burl is clear that Villon is the great French poet of the middle ages and his love of the poetry should encourage many readers to seek out Villon’s works for themselves, especially as Villon’s poetry is shot through with realism and shuns the courtly allegorical style that was in vogue at the time. Much of it can appeal to the modern reader, however Burl warns his readers in no uncertain terms that any translation of metrical verse will lose far too much of the original:

“The difficulty, already stated, is that it is impossible to make an accurate translation of a great poem into a different language. There are impassable barriers: the order of the words, their meaning, the scansion, the rhyme scheme and the rhymes themselves.”

While all of this may be arguable, it feels disjointed, even out of place in a book that purports to be a biography and uses the words of the poet as a major source for details of his life. I think this is the main issue I have with Burl’s book, it tries to be everything at once: literary criticism, biography and thoughts on medieval life, but at times the balance seems not quite right. It is as though the book has been rushed and so lacks some focus.

The book does succeed in painting a lively portrait of medieval Paris and the horrors of the ravaged countryside around it. Villon lived most of his life far away from the rich and patronised men of arts and Burl emphasises his criminal connections. Villon was convicted of murder and robbery and he used the patois of the criminal gangs in some of his poetry and so Burl is on fairly safe ground with most of his conjectures even if he pushes them a little far at times.

I think this book provides much useful background for people interested in Francois Villon, his poetry and medieval Paris. It is an entertaining read and might serve to interest the more casual reader. A three star read show less