Stonehenge
is one of the most famous prehistoric monuments in the world. Built around 2,500
BCE, the site, like the Egyptian pyramids, is a testament to the engineering
skills of our ancestors. Its circle of linteled sarsen stones were so finely
erected that they still outshine the most intricate working of wood. The inner
stone trilithons are simultaneously majestic and intimate, and the whole site is
laid out with extraordinary precision whilst remaining open to the natural
contours and horizons of Salisbury Plain, on which it is located.
As
a preeminent treasure bequeathed to us by prehistoric peoples, Stonehenge is
also subject to political disputes about access and control. Owned by the state,
over a million tourists are bussed in every year to see the site; often staying
for no more than 45 minutes before continuing on to yet another sumptuous
English landmark. Yet, there are other claims and desires to access Stonehenge;
notably those sections of the community who wish, in a variety of ways, to
experience the site more fully than a 45-minute whistle-stop tour can allow.
The
history of alternative gatherings at Stonehenge has long been culturally and
politically fraught. Festivals began at summer solstice at the site over 25
years ago, but were suppressed at the notorious Battle of the Beanfield in 1985,
after which, direct access to the stones was cut off at summer solstice and at
all other times1. However, the desire for an annual
gathering never disappeared, and during the late nineties, sustained negotiation
between Druids, pagans, festivalgoers, English Heritage, and the National Trust
facilitated a remarkable compromise. From 2000, the stones have become directly
accessible again for anyone who wants to go on the night of the summer solstice.
One
of the key aspects of Stonehenge is that astronomical alignments have been
deliberately and accurately built into the design of the monument itself. One of
these alignments is on the summer solstice sunrise. Watched from the center of
the circle, the sun rises in the north east, just left of the Heel Stone (an
important freestanding monolith on the edge of the monument). On a clear day, as
the sun rises in the sky, it shines down the avenue leading into Stonehenge and
casts a shadow of the Heel Stone into the centre of the monument before rising
to reach its highest point in the sky by noon2.
The
summer solstice is not the only alignment at Stonehenge, and debate continues
about the range, accuracy and importance of the extent of complex astronomical
knowledge built into the monument3. But whatever the
finer technical points of these debates may be, the central fact is that the
builders and users of Stonehenge were concerned, obsessed even, with astronomy
and they knew the movements of the planets and heavens and their relationship
with earth very well.
Why
might the prehistoric peoples who built such an impressive site be so interested
in astronomy? Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that they were far closer to
nature than we are today. These people lived in simple, timber-framed structures
and seem not to have stayed in one place but moved around the countryside. They
had large herds of animals and tended fields of wheat and vegetables, but they
were not farmers in the sense that we would understand it. Instead, they seem to
have valued mobility: following the grazing for their animals and gathering,
growing, and harvesting plants on a seasonal basis. And it was at the great
monuments like Stonehenge that they came together to gather, exchange, and
celebrate their life following the rhythms of nature.
Close
knowledge of the seasons, the ebb and flow of light and warmth from the sun, and
the movements of the moon and other planets would have been of central
importance in structuring their understanding of the cycles of the natural
world. The sun and moon may even have been seen as animate or alive—even seen
as gods. Thus, when the sun and moon reached the highest and lowest points in
their cycles, this may have been interpreted in terms of “cosmic” death and
rebirth.
We
can see a similar logic in the architecture of the pyramids and the myths with
which they are associated. The Osiris myth was enacted every year in the
Egyptian pyramids as stellar alignments marked the moment of the rebirth of the
god after his mythological slaughter: a cycle of death and rebirth that directly
echoed the cycle of death and birth in nature. Certainly, there is no doubt that
the great turning points of the seasonal and celestial year were of central
importance for ritual gatherings at Stonehenge, where we can imagine people from
far a field gathered to mark these critical and auspicious moments.
This
connection to the ebb and flow of nature is built into the monument itself.
Therefore, when we go there today, we come into touch with the same forces as
those who erected the monument did. And it is this desire to get back to ancient
and formal ways of celebrating the cycles of nature that underpins the desire of
those who celebrate at summer solstice today.
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Crowds enjoying the summer solstice |
The
contemporary festival is not for the faint hearted. Access to the site is
strictly managed and facilities are limited. This turns what could be an
unhurried and extended appreciation of the magic and beauty of midsummer into
something of a marathon. Yet, despite these limitations, being at the site at a
moment like the summer solstice is to take part in the same celebrations of the
natural world as were undertaken by our ancestors thousands of years ago.
This
year, the event was particularly spectacular from an astronomical point of view.
There was a full moon—an event that occurs on the summer solstice only once
every 18.6 years. As the night deepened, the moon—first golden and then honey
brown—glided across the sky. Then, as the moon slowly set in the west, it
blazed on the horizon with a final, poignant display of light. There then
followed over an hour of darkness, the low point before the dawn, while the
crowds gathered to witness the rising sun. As the first blue light crept over
the horizon, a white mist rose like a wall and agonizingly slowly, the sun came
into view. As its red light streaked across the sky, the ball of the sun was
greeted by three hang gliders, framed solemnly against the spreading light;
airborne heralds of the dawn.
The
freshness and fertility of midsummer is echoed by its opposite six months later
with the darkness of midwinter. These cycles are inherent to the earth on which
we live; they are the inexorable natural processes of which we are all part:
life, death, warmth, joy, darkness and light. Yet the spontaneity of the cycles
of the universe are ancient and timeless; they have gone on forever and will
continue to do so.
In
our postindustrial age, we believe all too often that we have gone beyond
nature; we have mastered it for our own ends. We experience it only as a
backdrop—convenient or otherwise—to our busy, machine-dependent lives. Yet,
like our ancestors, in reality we, too, are born into it, dependent on it, and
subject to its forces. By celebrating at Stonehenge we, too, momentarily can
find the connection we have to nature, and to a realization of how much we
are a part of it. In so doing, we reforge a connection with those human
beings living all those years ago who left us such a remarkable testament to
what they held dear, as well as with the awesome turning of the cycles of the
world.
**
Kate Prendergast, is a British freelance researcher and journalist with a
particular interest in African politics and development. Your e-mails will be
forwarded to her by contacting the art editor at: artculture@iolteam.com.
1-
See Andy Worthington, The Battle of the Beanfield, Enabler Publications, 2005
http://www.andyworthington.co.uk/battle.html
2-
See Terrence Meaden, Stonehenge: the Secret of the Solstice. Souvenir, Souvenir
Press Ltd, London, 1977.
3-
See Kate Prendergast, “Neolithic Solar Ritual at Stonehenge” 3rd Stone,
volume 45, 2003. http://www.thirdstone.demon.co.uk/home.htmhttp://
www.thirdstone.demon.co.uk/home.ht