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  • Writer's pictureRevd John King

THE ENGLISH MOSAIC

Think of Knutsford, and Elizabeth Gaskell comes to mind. Dorchester means Hardy. These writers are inseparable from their landscapes. Indeed, they may be said to have created the settmg for their characters just as C.S. Forester created the nautical background for Horatio Hornblower. They opened our eyes to something that had been there all the time.


We come to consider England as a mosaic. It is made up of localities. Haphazard it may be but it evokes loyalties from its inhabitants and sometimes speech-patterns that take some understanding for a stranger in town.


Marketing pressures push shop-keepers towards sameness. A high street is much like any other high street. But surprises occur. Richard the Third’s remains come to light when diggers begin work. The narrow-gauge railway in north Devon is gradually coming to life again and heritage railways are having the time of their lives.


‘Nothing is real until it is local, ’said G.K. Chesterton. Being local may mean ignoring the rest of the world under the impression that it has nothing to offer our tight little community. It can also be a seed-ground of new ideas. Rugby football and Melton Mowbray pork pies came from particular places as did Stilton cheese. Norfolk jackets and New Forest ponies have their origins in diverse parts of England. We ourselves are, in part, results of the climate we come from. Our differentiation is likely to be permanent. ‘You can take a man out of Yorkshire but you can’t take Yorkshire out of a man,’ they say.


A respect for place is no denigration of other men’s loyalties. If we like our native heath or our red buses, good for us. Our Christian faith is likely to have some small indicator of our own brand of religious faith. That is far from being a bad thing.


GASKELL’ S PARISH

In 2013 Knutsford parish church had a year-long make-over. It now has an attached church centre and a tri-partite gallery. Leading a strong ministry team is Nigel Atkinson. If I remember correctly, the church – a handsome one – is on the wrong side of a hill to catch the sunshine. Elizabeth Gaskell spent her childhood in Knutsford. In her novels the town appears as Cranford.


If you have a comment on this post please send an email to Revd John King at johnc.king@talktalk.net Edited extracts may be published. To forward this to a friend click on the chain icon below.

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