Who owns the Authorised Version ?

Simon Heffer makes a very interesting comment in passing in a review of a new book by Roy Strong on country churches. (Literary Review , Oct 2007, p.45-6). Surprised by Strong's 'pronounced lack of conservatism' when considering the development of Anglican worship, he continues:
"It is all too often left to atheists like [Heffer] to seek to uphold the beauty of the 1662 Prayer Book and the King James Bible, while believers like Strong argue for progress."
Historically, Heffer is, I think, quite right. Whilst there were during the period of liturgical revision in the 1960s and 1970s plenty of conservatives within the church, there was much agitation against the new rites amongst those professing no faith at all, and without any connection with the Church of England, except in the broadest sense of having been born to it.

What is less clear is whether this is as odd a state of affairs as Heffer seems to imply. What is at stake is the idea of a national church, and whether the Church of England had a 'duty' to preserve the 1662 and the AV 'for the nation', whether or not they served the contemporary purpose of the church as a living, worshipping body of individuals. There are arguments to be had about whether the new liturgies and biblical translation are as beautiful as language (probably not), and whether beautiful language is fundamental to worship (rather than merely desirable for some worshippers in some times and places). There is also an argument that continuity in forms of worship (beautiful or otherwise) is important to the church's sense of itself in time (see earlier post on Rowan Williams).

There is, however, some way to go yet to establish from those arguments that the 'preservation' of these texts requires their continued 'vicarious' use (in Grace Davie's sense) by the Church on behalf of those who don't attend the services for which the texts were composed. Historic churches will fall down if not maintained, but do the AV and the 1662 not remain beautiful in the library ?

William Empson against the Christians

A fascinating review by Eric Griffiths in the TLS of the second volume of John Haffenden's biography of Empson. This is at the very edge of my reading to date, but I was fascinated by the picture drawn of Empson's visceral loathing of Christianity, and his crusade (not my word) in the 1950s against "the sick new literary orthodoxy of neo-Christianity". All sorts of very interesting questions arise about the place of Christian themes in the fiction of the period; who these new Christian gatekeepers were, and precisely to what degree Empson thought Christian conviction was simply objectionable in itself, or whether such conviction on the part of the author compromised the work itself.

William Morris and 'skills'

An interesting exchange in the New Statesman, with Conservative MP John Hayes using the current debate over the future of the William Morris museum in London as an example of Labour's failing 'skills agenda', and to argue that it is the Conservatives who are the "true guardians of Morris' legacy." See also the subsequent, rather incredulous letter in reply on November 8th.

Paul Roche

At the risk of turning this blog into a round-up of recent obituaries, I note the passing of the poet and novelist Paul Roche. Perhaps his chief interest in this connection was his long relationship with Duncan Grant, and in particular his appearance in Grant's controversial 1958 mural in Lincoln cathedral. Obituaries have appeared in the Telegraph and Independent. An account of the murals is given by Edward Mayor, The Duncant Grant Murals in Lincoln cathedral (Lincoln, 2001), including a reminiscence by Roche himself, available direct from the cathedral

Reading Camus in Salford

The October issue of Prospect has this column by Paul Lay about the atmosphere surrounding "the young working-class intellectual" in the late 70s and early 80s. He makes an interesting point about the Christian imagery in Ian Curtis' lyrics for Joy Division, and suggests (probably correctly) that "Curtis' generation was among the last to be brought up in Britain where religious language was ubiquitous, transmitted through school assemblies, religious studies classes, and the shared landmarks of baptisms, wedding and funerals".
I'm interested by this point, since much discussion of the religion-pop connection in that period has tended to regard pop as an autonomous, religiously neutral phenomenon, which the churches could domesticate for their own use, injecting Christian themes into a vacant 'container'. In contrast, Lay's point suggests that fruitful research might be done on what happens to the lyrics of the more self-consciously intelligent pop of the period, and to identify when it is that access is lost to this "vocabulary of transcendence", as Lay puts it.