...my story Just after noon, I trotted out of Scott's house with my hair still wet from the shower, as I'd promised roughly half the planet that I'd be at Victoria College at noon. Obviously, I'd masochistically underestimated the distance to campus from Scott's house, as I ended up an hour late & ravenously hungry. (I need to consult my notes at this point...) I arrived just in time for the tail end of Play #23, "The Transfiguration." There were all sorts of people camped out on the grass, little kids running around, old academics pontificating on the veracity of the performance, merchants & societies set up to ply the tourists & official beggars soliciting donations. For every person seriously noting every nuance of the performance, there were another 3 laughing with their friends, running around with their kids or asleep in the shade. It was very medieval, in the best possible way. I immediately fell in love with the atmosphere...very relaxed & generous, as I hope the real middle ages were. Plus, it wasn't raining, nobody had leprosy & there wasn't stinking piles of shit everywhere...a cleaned up middle ages, you know. I flopped down on the grass to watch this play & the next, not thinking too much about finding some shade, despite the fact that the sun was at zenith & I could actually feel sweat trickling down my back...which was a completely novel experience for me. Anyway, to make this part of the story short & sweet, I stayed out in the sun from noon till sundown. Average temperature was about 40 degrees Celsius (that's about 112 degrees in Fahrenheit), and I wasn't wearing sunblock. My face has never been this sunburned. It was excruciating, but well worth it...and it's the kind of experience that one wants to leave as one markedly different. The day went on. A variety of people found & deserted me, most notably James, who was my constant companion; Stacy, who commented that the whole thing reminded her of SCA gatherings; Ian, who wanted to go to Hell after he saw the sexy Merry Widow-clad devils in "The Harrowing of Hell" (#37); and Tymothi:J, who actually showed up at sunrise for the beginning of the performances, and was dressed like a Hell's Angel but comported himself like a poet. We watched play after play, laughing at some of the performances (#27 - The Last Supper - was put on by high-school kids who didn't project their voices adequately - I was caught wondering if I would go to Hell for yelling, "speak up, Jesus!"...not to mention the sulky bitch diva Christ of #29, who kept tossing his hair in a less-than magisterial manner) and admiring the novelty of others (the Harrowing of Hell Christ was dressed like a Crusader, Christ before Herod (#31) was silent & Asian, Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene (#39) came from Birmingham (UK) and was a perfect fair-haired-Saxon-William Blake-Jerusalem Christ). One of my favorite moments came during Christ before Herod: when Herod asked the crowd if anyone would defend the life of Christ, a very drunk Native American in the front row got unsteadily to his feet & started shouting to defend Christ. The actor playing Herod just continued with the play, shouting down the man as if he was an audience plant. It was amazing. The Judgement of Christ (#33) used the audience to a slightly more premeditated end: when Pilate asked the crowd which criminal to release, most of us knew our cue: "Barabas!" And what shall I do with this Christ? "Crucify him!" It was wonderful, in a horrible sort of way. I mean, who wants to be on the side of the Romans & the corrupt Jewish authorities? I felt much better hissing in unison at Judas whenever he entered or left the stage. And of course, Scott was great. I took an entire sequence of Scott Crucified photos. I was kind of pissed off that the Virgin obviously read her lines out of her little book. I could've done way better than that, for pete's. As part of my donation, I bought 2 indulgences (20 years off Purgatory, you know), to which they kindly threw in a scrap of St. Francis of Assisi's undergarment. I gave one of the benefices to Clarke, as I was sure he'd appreciate it. I have to say that overall, it was the most monumental thing I've experienced since travelling to England, which was in turn, the most monumental experience of my life thus far. There was something so satisfying about being able to make it to the end of the cycle just as the last light fades from the sky. I'm told that they only do the cycle every 20 years, so I'm in the peak of condition for it...I can go 10 hours without food, sweating in the blazing sun & actually enjoy it. It was far more grueling than any outdoor concert, although both types of events have the same sense of cultural siege that one must be well-prepared for. Anyway. It was great. I highly recommend it when they do it again. - written on June 21st, 1998. york cycle home : photo album : mail Created on July 23, 1998. Last modified on August 18, 2001.