Friends in need
The Order of Malta: a portrait Val Horsler and Julian Andrews (ed.)
TMI GROUP, 192PP, £45 ■Tablet bookshop price £40.50 Tel 01420 592974
he Order of Malta is possibly the most wide-ranging and effective humanitarian organisation in the world. Founded in the eleventh century to provide rest and care for sick pilgrims to Jerusalem, it has survived tribulations which make the wanderings of Ulysses look like a pleasure cruise. Expelled by the Turks first from Jerusalem and then from Rhodes, which had become their second home, in 1530 they moved to Malta. There they settled, resisting the attacks of the Turks and of the swarms of pirates which were the curse of the Mediterranean at the time. Concentrating on their hospitaller work, they were forced to maintain their military strength in order to survive. In 1798 they were expelled again, this time by Napoleon. Once more homeless, it was not until 1834 that Pope Gregory XVI settled them in Rome, where their headquarters remains to this day.
T
So much for history. But four-fifths of this handsome and eloquent book cover the activities of the order today, when it has grown to 12,500 full members, 80,000 volunteers and over 20,000 medical personnel. Its task has multiplied in size many times, but still consists of helping the elderly, the disabled, refugees and the homeless, and coming to the aid of victims of war, hurricanes and natural disasters of all kinds. They work in Peru and Bolivia,
NOVEL OF THE WEEK
Playing away A School of London: a trilogy Chip Martin
STARHAVEN, 417PP, £12.50 ■Tablet bookshop price £11.25
interrelated novellas. Admittedly, the “School” of London could be the perspective of two protagonists, both American, encountering the metropolis, but what that school may be seen to represent remains the key question. Central to the story is Margot Wingfield, a
T
literary agent, the mother of six sons and a hostess whose hospitality has no bounds. It is Margot who introduces Tony Thomas, an American travel writer, aspiring novelist and the narrator of the first and third novellas, to Oliver Murrie. Murrie, a talented young artist, plays a pivotal role as the focal point of
Tel 01420 592974
here is something mystifying about the title of Chip Martin’s trilogy of
Haiti and the Congo; they are involved in the plight of Cambodian refugees in Thailand and of lepers in the Sudan; on the battlefields of Kosovo, Iraq and Afghanistan; in the rehabilitation of the mentally ill. They helped victims of the earthquake in the Abruzzi, and they saved refugees fleeing from Tunisia in their hopelessly unsafe boats, with the help of the Italian navy. The order not only caters for children in need everywhere, but has developed a large number of care homes for the ever increasing numbers of elderly. What is it that sets the order apart from the other relief organisations which often do equally good work? First is its obligation to stick up for the Catholic faith (tuitio fidei). Secondly, perhaps, is the sheer momentum built up over the centuries, doggedly moving on when it has been expelled. Thirdly, being a military order as well as a spiritual one, discipline is more deeply rooted in its character. Candidates
the lust of many of the women characters; his peregrinations contribute to the elucidation of the mysterious title. Fluctuations of personality are experienced by virtually all the women Murrie has been involved with, with the exception of Carine, a fragile young woman from a well-to-do Jewish background, who becomes Tony’s wife. Her relationship with Murrie is unusual, in this book, in that it is not adulterous. The plots unfold during the
Thatcher/Major years. Some characters are involved in banking and commerce while another, Valentine Craven, is attempting to succeed in the paper-pulping business. A later entry is John DuRocher, a rich American seen as a “white knight” who could rescue faltering businesses. Nevertheless, business and finance play a secondary role to artistic achievement in this trilogy, and more important than either is the theme of changing relationships and developing personalities, which is its essence. All the men engage or have engaged in adulterous liaisons, but few of these are as predominant in the trilogy as those of the women. Margot’s affair with Murrie was at
Knights assist a pilgrim at the annual Lourdes Day Mass at St Patrick’s Cathedral in Melbourne, Australia
for the order now have to serve as Companions for three years, in which to gain experience and expertise. Fourthly, it is still a sovereign state. This is an anomaly,
since it was stripped of all its territories centuries ago. But it means that many distant countries (including, for instance, Belarus) still eagerly send it their ambassadors, since they know that the order is better placed than they are themselves to help in times of earthquakes, floods or nuclear accidents. The order has an invaluable bank of experience on which it can, and does, draw at high speed. This beautiful book contains many
excellent photographs of the order’s work in the field. They illustrate, among other things, the cheerfulness as well as the dedication of its active members, many of them very young (several members of the medical staff have been killed on battlefields in the recent past). It is a thoroughly worthy portrait of the unceasing efforts of a vast and unique organisation, still devoted to its original purposes of bearing witness to the faith, and of service to “our lords, the sick”. John Joliffe
one time particularly significant. At the outset of the trilogy, however, Murrie is involved with the married German Gisela, for whom he left Carine. Gisela later becomes a “psychosynthesist” and is the “witch” of the third novella, holding Margot in thrall. Valentine Craven’s wife, Miranda, an “English rose”, is another key character and it is around her affairs that the second novella is based.
With interlocking liaisons so prominent, it is hardly surprising that the children of the protagonists suffer the consequences. With disaster not far from the surface, primarily in the third novella, it would seem that the main lesson of the book is that we should try to understand what is most important to us, before it is too late. Chip Martin vividly depicts the spectacle
and texture of the London of the period, and, in particular, the vibrancy of the Wingfield household in its heyday. The interlocking of the novellas succeeds in forming a consummate whole which, while often disturbing, nevertheless keeps the reader constantly gripped. Emma Klein
24 September 2011 | THE TABLET | 23
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36