(Translated from my book "Til kompost kan du bli" (Oslo, 2014) about a trip made in 1990.)
Stories told about the pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela reveal more from the happenings on the road to Santiago, than in the city itself. On the road were other pilgrims and locals, avarice and generosity, quiet people and the frank ones. Joy and dangers. Beasts, illnesses, thieves, murderers…
I met Tristan.
We were squeezed together eight people in a compartement on the train through the night from Zaragoza to La Coruña. Seven of us tried to doze as best as possible on the two feet of space to each one. Tristan, on the other hand, protested. We were to abuse a moment of genuinity if we prefered to sleep. The eight of us would never ever meet again. This was an exeptional moment to know individuals who otherwise would have been unfamiliar. He, Tristan, regarded himself as the responsible to be some kind of a catalyst to promote the community in our compartement. We all became familiar with Tristan...
Thanks to him the compartement was almost empty before arriving in Burgos. Tristan and I were the sole occupants. Maybe the others wanted to have a nap – or they prefered to keep intact their childhood faith.
Tristan initiated his effort as catalyst by adressing himself to me, since I was sitting in front of him. Where was my destination?
To Santiago? As a priest?
My humble ”no” was the only breath of relief heard in the narrow compartement during the trip.
Why go to Santiago now? This year was no year of Jubilee?
Year of Jubilee?
The years when the 25th of July were Sundays.
25th of July?
"Please tell me, caballero… are you quite sure you are going to Santiago de Compostela?"
Even in the dim light of the compartement I noticed all the faces turned my way. What was wrong…?
The female part of an elderly couple leaning against each other next to Tristan interrupted our dialogue: "The 25th of July is the day of Sant Iago. The day of Saint James The Greater, the apostle, entendido? When his day falls on a Sunday, the holy doors in the cathedral open…"
"Then it's a giant fiesta in the city," Tristan continued. «Show for all the money! The pilgrims get rid of more sins than a human may commit during his lifetime! On the contrary, in a normal year - as this one…" He looked around: "Do you get rid of more than money?"
I tried to keep contact with the elderly couple: "The holy doors?"
Tristan cut the connection: "Don't mind about these doors, señor! They're part of the cheap tricks invented by the hucksters from the church."
Tricks?
The whole Santiago was based on a load of rubbish! Didn't I know that Compo-stela originated from ”com-po-si-ción”? Compositon! Produced and directed by the royal and ecclesiastical power!
Protests were heard: "Compostela means campus stellae – the place of the star," was produced from the darkest corner to the right of the window. "The notion dates from 813 when the light of the Lord guided the hermit Pelagius to the tomb of Saint James."
Tristan looked into his rucksack. At first I though he searched for an argument to silence the last speaker, but he pulled out a bottle of leather. A brown bottle with a red top covered by a red cap. When he removed the cap and put the top to his mouth, we smelled the content of anise. Drops to strengthen his opposition - to disprove the allegation from the dark corner?
"813? Or 318? Figures based upon greek symbols of magic created long before the area of christianity. In other words, pure pagan! Besides – a star? Nice fantasy, if the hucksters hadn't copied the story of the star that showed the way to the crib with the Christ Child! The fairy-tales of the Grimm brothers are more thrustworthy…"
He had another sip from his bottle before showing it around. Did we care for a "comunion"? The elderly couple declined the offer, and the spouse tried to gain the initiativ: Was señor ignorant about the fact that God let the corpse of Saint James be brought to and buried in Galicia?
"Nonsense!" Tristan raised his left hand to smack his thigh. In the last minute he discoverd the bottle lying there, and hold his hand. "An apostle buried in Galicia! Plain superstition. A fixed idea for the replacing of Charlemagne when he was about to die. The cowards in the north didn't dare to continue la reconquista against the infidels from Mecca without their powerful leader! Then the clergy was in a hurry to find a new commander. No living ruler at that time could replace Charlemagne. Superstition had to be invented to get the asturianos to fight. We from Extremadura were of another kind, nosotros los extremeños…"
The elderly couple did not give in. Santiago, the holy Saint, had participated personally in the fightings against the Muslims as well as against the heathens in the new world.
"The myth of the White Knight?" Tristan started to laugh and offered himself a new squirt from the bottle, while the husband pointed at him: "Precisely! There are eye witness reports…"
The squirt hit the respiratory parts of Tristan. He started to cough, and struggled to get control with his breath. Small drops of anise hit my face. "Eye witness reports!" He coughed again, hit the seat between his legs, laughed, coughed, shaked: "What did he confess... (cough), the commander... (more coughs) at Trujillo? (He draw his breath.) When the church council asked him to confirm… ah, por Dios (burp)… that the holy James – puh! – had fought along with the Spaniards? Heh? (Oh!) I may not be strong enough… (a new burp) in my faith, he said – the commander! (Laughter.) He did have too little faith, he said! Since he didn't notice any knight in white armour!»
He got himself a reward from the bottle. That one did go right. These moments when he consentrated on the anise, were the only ones when Trristan shut up. From 23.34 PM until 11.20 AM the next day. In spite of loosing all the audience except me. Well, I went to Santiago because I was curious. Tristan increased my curiosity more than some believer might have contributed to.
"… the church needed a knight! White or black didn't matter. They needed their own private knight to protect the innocents. Those who then had to pay what they owed for the knights protection - to the church." Tristan waived his arms. "Having their own knight increased the profit of the clergymen in Santiago far above the tower of the cathedral. A peasant was obliged to pay his depts to the knights defending his region. The holy James defended all of Spain! Everyone – every damned soul in the christian part of the peninsula - had to pay taxes to the clergymen who rattled with some fragments of bones in a shrine inside the cathedral. Fragments told to be the relics of their holy knight."
He managed to combine a cry of "Brilliant!" with more drops of anis.
"Their knight was also a pretender to every profitable conquest made by spanish armies. Their soldiers murderered and cried ”Santiago” all over Spain as well as in the South America. No wonder the cathedral in Santiago is enormous..."
"Their knight was also a pretender to every profitable conquest made by spanish armies. Their soldiers murderered and cried ”Santiago” all over Spain as well as in the South America. No wonder the cathedral in Santiago is enormous..."
Everything was exultation, ruse and trickery until the Great Armada got lost in the North Sea - and Francis Drake arrived… Did I come from England?
No? Well, then! The pirate Francis Drake took revenge for the attack on England by sacking the saint's city - the one he used to call a center of corrupt superstition. But before he arrived, the shrine containing the relics was hid away - and disappeared...
So did the pilgrims. Disappeared. Santiago de Compostela fell into oblivion and poverty.
Three hundred years later the local authorities realized that the only remedy to save Santiago de Compostela, was to invent some new bones. The very Pope Leo XIII assisted. The popes had recently claimed themselves infallible. Naturally they were able to recognize a saint on his cranium.
So did the pilgrims. Disappeared. Santiago de Compostela fell into oblivion and poverty.
Three hundred years later the local authorities realized that the only remedy to save Santiago de Compostela, was to invent some new bones. The very Pope Leo XIII assisted. The popes had recently claimed themselves infallible. Naturally they were able to recognize a saint on his cranium.
About Popes, I asked, what was his opinion of John Paul II?
My question accumulated series of short biographies. On bandidos – whether they were called Hitler, Attila, Stalin, Maggie Thatcher, Franco, Castro, John Paul II, Jaruzelski, Constantine the Great, Mussolini, Frank Zappa, Clemens VI…
Who?
Clemens VI! Didn't I know the pope Clemens VI? When the Popes were held in Avignon? The considerate, smart and greedy Clemens VI, who welcomed pilgrims on their way to Rome or even Jerusalem, offering them to leave their presents in Avignon. Their presents of sacrifice were after all supposed to be brought back to the Pope. Unnecessary to risk these precious offers being brought to and fro. A lot of unexpected trouble might occur during the voyage. Robbers and other kind of accidents. These precious offers risked never to arrive to the custody of the only person authorized to evaluate them, the Pope himself on behalf of his God.
Clemens VI also had the opinion that a celebration of Jesus Christ only when a new century arrived, was a depreciation of the Lord. Jesus Christ had to be evaluated better than this. The year 1350 was coming up. More than fifty years had to pass until the next Jubilee of Christ. Clemens VI would obiously not be there to celebrate. He suggested to venerate Christ every fiftieth year! More pilgrims in circulation. More offers. Less sins. Consequently he introduced this change, and the church made new fortunes. Later on the crooks in Santiago followed creating the day of their saint and the special celebration when that day fell on Sundays.
"Madremia! Popes! God's private bandits, they can do whatever they want to without being made responsible, because they claim to belong to a celestial jurisdiction more valuable than the one made of man. Their eventual judgment will come later on... And the first Pope, what did he do? Denied Christ, he did! Three times, even! Dios mio! The Popes have continued to do likewise through the whole of Christian history. To deny Jesus." Tristan presented series of names and incidents, but I was unable to join him in his cascade
until the train made a stop somewhere between Burgos and Palencia. Then he said sadly: "If only there had been more Christians in this vale of tears!"
I jumped: I thought he was an adversary of the church?
The church? The church was not Christian! When the Christians created the first church, they said farewell to Christianity. "No, caballero! Jesus was a Christian! He did not exploit the poor, he neither killed nor mutilate, threatened or stole… activities the church calls sacrifice and conversion."
Jesus was no bandido as the Popes! The church was opponent to everything Jesus preached: moderation, truth, mercy, women, wine, and – well, he had never heard about Jesus singing…
"The church has always rejected the preachings of Jesus. The clergymen are the new lawless ones, above the law. Common criminals have to serve their sentence in jail. If the clergymen violate human juristication, they have to await God's jugement, because they believe in Him. Believe? In what, señor?" He shook his head, and cleared his throat. Had his bottle got empty? "Imagine thousand years ago! When kings, emperors and their advisers reigned and ravaged. One day they were disturbed by some bandits dressed in black, claiming to decide what the rulers had to do and how to do it. If not, they would burn in some place called Hell. The intruders invaded the royal councils with no authority apart from terror! Madre mia que tonteria!"
Again his throat got dry, but soon emerged a remedy. The air was once more filled with anise before he continued cursing clergymen and church. "Every person true to the words of Jesus, were prosecuted. Just imagine what happened to Priscilian of Avila! When you are in Santiago, remember the villanius bishops that put their colleague in front of the roman emperor to be slaughtered. Then they washed their hands in the washbasin previously used by Pontius Pilatus. Priscilian was the first bishop eliminated by the church with the help of secular power. Coordinated extermination of individuals troublesomes to the church, provided profitable income to the worldly rulers, along with the promise of a priority access to God's heaven. That's why the head of states loved to execute the victims of the church: heretics, pagans, barbarians, the blasphemus, those found guilty of idolatry, arianists, hedonists… every label the church managed to put on those who didn't want to contribute to the golden palaces of the bishops! The local secular rulers got properties as rewards along with the blessing of their murder weapons. It was safer to be a soldier. To die in battle became a higway to Heaven."
I kept my breath. Not because of all his words, I waited for an opportunity to ask about Priscilian of Avila.
At last I got my moment. He answered by a new tirade. Telling me that this Priscilian had appealed to the landowner bishops, bishops more busy getting properties than new souls for Christ. The year 385! I should remember the year 385! The church had recently begged for freedom of religions in the Roman empire. When Constantine the Great proclaimed this freedom, the first action by the clergymen was to eradicate every person alien to the church. Freedom of religion? Mierda! There were more freedom during the reign of the Roman emperors then when the church acquired the power."
"Couldn't it be as a revenge for the persecution of Christians?" I asked.
Tristan shook the second bottle with irritation. There was a faint sound of splashing from its inside. "Persecution of Christians! Por Dios, the church itself got the persecutions going! Arrogant, ignorant and greedy bishops had an innumerable amount of souls convicted to death. Especially those more christians than the certified idiots at the head of the church managements."
Tristan looked sadly at his bottle. It was about to collapse in the middle: "Que locura…it's easy to list the martyrs claimed by the church - if you drop the murderers Franco claimed as martyrs. Then you may start writing a list containing the victims of Christianity. You'll never finish that one during your lifetime…»
He interrupted himself, looking with a wishful hope from the empty bottle to me. Did he imagine me as able to produce a new potion? He shook both his head and the bottle: "All the victims of Christianity… Priscilian, for instance. Eh, bien! Every good christian in Galicia is aware of the fact that Santiago de Compostela is built on the grave of Priscilian and not above this damned James!»
He hold in. Without drinking. I kept quiet, hoping for continued information of this Priscilian. Suddenly he sat back laughing.
After a while I learned that Tristan did not laugh at an ignorant me, nor about the unfortunate Priscilian. His delight was connected to Pope Leo III. "Imagine! What a problem to Leo when his church and the royal authorities claimed to have unearthed an apostle in Galicia. The naive fools in Galicia provided him sleepless nights! Finding an apostle where the Pope very well knew the heredic was burried... Besides, he realized what this might result in lost income to Rome during the competition of attrackting the turists of God…"
Once again he tried to press more drops from the bottle. I noticed that the sound heard, was from air only.
I continued to pursue the theme of Priscillian.
If my interest was sincere, I could ask the swarm of hucksters hiding themselves in clerical dresses in the streets of Santiago. "Ask if they don't experience a godsend blessing or a jackpot to king and pope finding an apostle to forget the mourning for their beloved Priscilian. Priscillian was consecrated bishop, but unlike his colleagues, he lived like an hermit, preaching a life of sobriety and love. Told his congregation that the Kingdom of God did not belong to this world. Preachings of which his colleagues did reject, since their "kingdoms" very much were depending on this world. Since Priscillian did not care about gold and bribery, the other bishops had him removed, accused him of invented charges like orgies, support to the arians, manichaeism, that he was psevdo-something… The church has always been damned fabolous inventing how to catalogue the disobedient ones…"
He looked out the window for a moment. Then got up bringing down a bag from the luggage rack. And - believe it or not, he pulled out another of these brown bottles of leather.
He looked out the window for a moment. Then got up bringing down a bag from the luggage rack. And - believe it or not, he pulled out another of these brown bottles of leather.
"Ask!" he cried out suddenly – as if I was sitting in the next compartement: "Why did this site become a popular place for funerals hundreds of years before it had this name of Santiago? Years before pope and king invented the idea of a saint. Maybe the relics they dug up belonged to Priscilian himself! Wouldn't that be to culminate the irony!»
This time he let the anise flow - as a reward for fancy dreams? I made the most of his silence, asking if such an possibilty derived from the practise advocated by Pope Gregory the 1st, to change pagan or unwanted festivals sites into a christian cover? The method called "can’t you beat’em, join’em".
The anise hit him on his cheek, because he suddenly turned his head towards me. "Increible! An indication of mental activity! Entonces... I guess everyone has a more or less hidden reason for being alive! So - you are no supporter of Augustine?"
Why should I be a follower of some Augustine? Or why not? And who was this Augustine?
"You see…» he started, but without my understanding until he had finished a lesson on the Church Father Augustin from Hippo. Then I knew that this old saint at the beginning of the 5th Century had accused the pagans to copy and steal the Christian holydays and festivals - before the very existence of Christianity! Tristan laughed and gloated over this silly statement from one of the more venerated Church Fathers. He even extended the new bottle to me. As a favour for intelligent behaviour? I escaped by assuring I was unable to deprive him from his precious means of strengthening drops.
That was my only token of respect from Tristan until we said goodbye in Betanzos, where he left the train. Then he took my hand saying: "You impressed me, noruego!»
Without being more precise. Most likely he had never experienced to keep an "audience" continuously for thirteen hours.
Me too - I was surprised and impressed. When I walked around Santiago de Compostela. The city itself did not impress me, but Tristan. In spite of all his anise, his condemnation and indignation… His allegations were dangerously close to reality. Dangerous to the pilgrims coming here in good faith. For salvation. The remission of sins. Their belief in Santiago de Compostela. To me, the city turned out to be more or less a disappointment. To one having met Tristan. The magnificent appeared more and more like a tragedy the longer I stayed.
The Cathedral – I had never seen such a cult of war in a house of God. James, the saint, was portrayed as a belligerent savage. I must say I had another expectation of a saint. Inside the Cathedral I finally understood the notion of ”the financial and the spiritual”. People could buy the help of God en every little niche. The only item missing in the Cathedral, was a bingohall. My imagination told me that the chapel of Corticella could easily be transformed into this hall. The idea might be my contribution to the expected collection. The prizes in the bingohall could be a promise of returned love, to succeed at an exam, or to ensure an accomodation to Heaven... These were the wishes written on the small pieces of paper put between the legs of Christ in the Corticella chapel.
Being outside the church did not make me feel better. In front of the entrance to the Cathedral, the Pórtico de la Gloria, the clergymen use to burn a wooden mosque on the 25th of July, a booklet told me. Obviously it was more essensial to keep alive the hatred than love.
Om the huge Plaza de Obradoiro in front of the Cathedral there is a huge building used to be a hostel to shelter exhausted and poor pilgrims. Today this is one of the more exclusive hotels in Spain, maybe inaccesible for my bank account. Never-the-less I crossed the square and entered the hotel, asking politely if I might have a look around. Naturally - if I would be so kind as to remove my anorak? In case the guests should believe I stayed at the hotel…
Well – my anorak had been travelling for weeks... I put it nicely on my arm for not being a disgrace to the lobby.
In the streets of Santiago de Compostela I asked educated and uneducated as well as lay and consecrated. In the shops, on the squares, in churches, on the benches in the commons, under the arkades in Rúa del Viller… What was the meaning of Compostela?
”Compostela” – a Spanish pater, who preached about stars and lights, made me think of the Christmas parties as a child. An archaeologist from the U.S., who brushed tombs into light deep beyond the Cathedral - graves from both pre-Christian and early Christian era, answered: ”Composito” – being arranged. ”Compost” was another word descibing the same, he smiled. Some guide told me about bishop Mezonzo who was in charge of the reconstruction of the city after a destruction made by moorish troops in 997. The reconstruction was so perfect that people described their city as ”la bien Compuesta” – what is perfect ”com-po-ned”!
I also asked for Priscilian.
The religious looked at me for quite a time. Then he asked if I would pray along with him. For the lost souls…
The few ones that obviously had some knowledge of Priscilian from Avila, were suddently busy with other activities. The American archaeologue smiled and said: "Indeed, Prisciliano is an interesting phenomenon!»
”Is”, he did not say "was". Still of current interest, then.
The archaeologue disappered behind a sign telling "Trespassing forbidden"... Did he lay there, Priscilian? A heredic so popular the church had to dig up an apostle to have people forget the original?
I left Santiago de Compostela, satisfied for having been only a curious turist, not a pilgrim with acking feet on his or her's hope for salvation and the remission of sins. Struggle on to Santiago on their bare feet, was the serious aim of the rightous. Return empty handed was worse, but this was only to be understood by the few having met Tristan. The rest continued to live the illusion within their faith...
Yours Thor Thorstensen
Yours Thor Thorstensen
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