The Book Of Kells - The Neverending Story

I love books! Before the pandemic I frequented author talks, literary festivals, bookstores, libraries and museums. I studied library and information science in graduate school. So, when Stephanie and I found out that we were going to be in Dublin, we planned a separate day before we met up with our tour group to view one of the most famous books in the world - the Book of Kells. Once again, our visit was pre-Covid-19 so we stood in line with other people and walked around the exhibit amidst a crowd. It was a communal experience. In contrast, my time in quarantine at home in America has been mostly solitary but it has given me the opportunity to reflect on my visit to Trinity College Dublin and the amazing survival story of the Books of Kells. Since c800, it has survived a turbulent history, from theft, to fires and wars. Now, it is enduring through the coronavirus pandemic. It is a religious book whose very existence is a testament of faith.

While plans are underway to add a visitor center and the current viewing experience is enhanced with a new display case (https://www.rte.ie/news/2020/0913/1164894-trinity-book-of-kells/), there was an element of intrigue on the day of our visit. We saw a group of men in suits who were escorted into a room ahead of us, while we joined a line that was merging with the rest of the visitors in an area that featured an exhibit explaining the significance of the illuminated manuscript. We were curious about the seemingly exclusive space those VIPS had just disappeared into and the mystery made us all the more eager to follow them.

We waited for some time and then suddenly we were let into what I thought was a holding area. Everyone was rushing past me.  It was a mad scramble. I was confused and I asked Steph what was happening. She told me that the Book of Kells was right in front of us. I turned and I realized the crowd was gathered around a wooden table that was covered with thick glass. I couldn’t believe it. We weren’t even in a proper room. It was more like a small hallway and right there in front of me was the Book of Kells! The exhibit itself is so elaborate and there was such a buildup of anticipation to contemplating this ancient work of art in person. The display of the actual book seemed modest in comparison.

It was not the whole Book of Kells, but rather one illustrated page and one page that is mostly text. Also on view were two pages from another medieval illuminated manuscript. The pages from the Book of Kells were from St. Matthew. We were not permitted to take photographs, so I wanted to make sure that I committed the experience to memory.

I peeked over people's shoulders and waited until I could get my chance to stand directly in front of the hallowed pages. By the time I got there, most of the onlookers had moved on. I kept reminding myself that what I was seeing was from the 9th century - so long ago. I needed to summon reverence. I needed to be still. I took a deep breath and realized that the display in front of me was beautiful in its simplicity and familiar in a way. This was still about the power of books. It was just me and pages written and decorated by monks and a message of devotion and sacrifice.

I think this is one of my favorite Irish poems. It was, “written by an Irish monk at St. Gallen, Switzerland in the 9th century.”

I think this is one of my favorite Irish poems. It was, “written by an Irish monk at St. Gallen, Switzerland in the 9th century.”

The lives of the monks who worked on the Book of Kells fascinated me. For some reason I had an image of elderly, learned men in my head, but they were only teens. I overhead a guide say that sometimes the monks would scribble notes in the margins, like that they were bored or wanted to go outside, which would be erased later. That anecdote stayed with me because it reminded me of their humanity while they were working on this monumental task. The guide said the monks needed to be young to have the eyesight and the stamina to do such detailed work and that the average lifespan was much shorter than ours, so their teenage years would have been closer to middle age. I wonder what those monks would think of their artistry and painstaking work continuing to inspire the world in the 21st century AD.