Leaving Uig, I drove south through South Lewis and onto the Isle of Harris. As I headed into the mountains the rain fell ever more heavily. Agnes Maclennan had been right. I stopped in the small fishing and ferry port of Tarbert and ate some venison sausages and mash in a pub. Then I took the coastal route round Harris. Harris is wild, mountainous, magnificent. On the west side there are splendid beaches. On the east side it's even more remote, the coastline more indented, the narrow, single-track road more challenging. I drove slowly, scattering small flocks of wheatears and grey wagtails as I passed. Sheep grazed at the edge of the road and sometimes wandered into the middle of it. The east side looks like this...
On the tip of Harris stands the church at Rodel. It was built around 1500, rebuilt in 1784, then restored in 1873...
The dark, atmospheric interior is quite empty except for the tombs of 3 armoured knights carved in black gneiss. You can see one of these tombs on the left in my pic...
I climbed the tower (square-shaped - very unusual for these parts) via a gloomy, stone staircase then 2 vertical wooden ladders. At the top were 3 lancet windows facing north, south and west, each with a deep recess. In each recess visitors had left little notes - containing prayers, personal messages, spiritual observations and homespun philosophies...
One of these hand-written reflections struck me with the force of a lightning bolt. I memorized it, then later wrote it down. Here it is verbatim: "There is hope in honest error, none in icy perfections or the mere stylist..." I don't know who wrote this, whether it's a quote from anyone, or whether the writer was inspired to scribble it on the spot. But it certainly inspired me that rainy day in Harris, on my own, at the top of a church tower, on a far-flung island, miles from anywhere. Perhaps 'error' is not such a bad thing, even a noble thing, if it is 'honest'? And perfection, or the striving towards perfection, can be such a cold, heartless and 'icy' thing, can it not?
I wonder if you who are reading this identify more with 'honest error' or more with 'icy perfections'? Be honest! I know I'm heart and soul in the former camp... But I also know I have a wilful perfectionist streak in me too...
'Style' alone is just cleverness, surface gloss. It's what's behind the style that counts - the substance behind the seductive, flickering shadow, the narrative behind the verbal and artistic trickery...
