In Guyana, as indeed elsewhere in the world, most of what is considered worthy of notice is shallow and of no long-term importance. Daily journalism by its nature cannot hope to encompass a taste for eternity. All the same, it is a pity that, amidst the din of trivia and instantly forgotten comment, we hear hardly a whisper from the deeper level at which a nation and its people operate. Do we follow the state of musical and artistic composition in the nation? Is anyone describing to us the standard of our research in the arts and sciences? Do we care whether our architecture and town planning are in good hands? How often are we told what is being done to preserve and enhance the nation’s archival store of literature, folklore, tradition and history?
May I enquire, as a precise example, if the National Trust has embarked on any particular projects at present? It certainly has a mammoth amount of work to do. There are, for example, scores of buildings in Georgetown alone which have been designated as worthy of protection which means that they should not be pulled down or even altered without express State permission. But are such buildings in fact safe? Is the National Trust keeping an eagle eye on them? We are champions at making good resolutions, we are most adept in formulating paper solutions, we are clear-headed and clever in establishing mechanisms. But where we fall down is in practicing what we preach, following through what we have begun, activating what we inaugurate. And so I fear those scores of buildings so auspiciously identified as worthy of national care are not being adequately protected. Is there a list? Can we be told?
In these circumstances we should be grateful that here and there dedicated work has been done to recognize, recapture, and preserve what our ancestors once achieved. A case for such special praise is St. George’s Cathedral. Through the quiet and dedicated work of the faithful in a great cause this most famous and historically valuable building in all Guyana has been well preserved. It stands sturdy, bright, regularly refurbished and replenished. Central for so long in the life of the capital city it shines proudly as throne-Church of the diocese.
For sixty-five years in my life St. George’s has been there, just around the corner, a place of blessings little thought about, its sanctity and history taken for granted as we all tend to take for granted what does daily good and gives quiet service.
A friend once pointed to St. George’s and said to me: “It’s just a big white box: no grace, no inspiration, no lifting up its soul to heaven.” It was quite a good comment: the exterior of St. George’s is almost ugly in its foursquare bulkiness and wooden height. Certainly it does not have the delicate, soaring, piety of the great Churches at Salisbury or Durham, say, nor obviously does it try to match the great Gothic cathedrals whose architecture thrust a thousand spears up to heaven as the Church Militant marched across Europe in the Middle Ages. It cannot approach the absolute, heart-shaking beauty of Chartres, as one approaches that miraculous building across the golden fields of France. It cannot, of course, begin to compare with the holy majesty of St. Peter’s in Rome, mightiest Cathedral of them all, most filled with the glory of God and the genius of man. But I have daily grown accustomed to that strong and sturdy face and in St. George’s now I by no means see a big, white, uninspired box but rather a vast, safe, house of God, an ark faithfully made for a long and holy voyage, the careful work of good men with clear and practical eyes.
And, of course, it is inside St. George’s that its chief glory lies – the openness, the light, the space, the splendour of the soaring walls of greenheart. There are the great multi-coloured organ pipes and decorated high altar, the myriad tablets to famous benefactors and long-forgotten Churchmen. There are the old, historic furnishings which are a separate treasury on their own. It is full of beauty: a couple of decades ago it had its ramshackle years but now it glows for God and man.
When last did you actually look at St. George’s Cathedral? When last did you go inside? Indeed, how many Guyanese have ever been inside? It is probably a minute fraction of the population of Georgetown. And yet here is our single most impressive building, one numbered among the most celebrated in the whole West Indies.
The French cultural historian, Roland Barthes, said the truth when he wrote that cathedrals are “the supreme creation of an age, conceived with passion by unknown artists and consumed in image if not in usage by a whole population.” We may not all use St. George’s in daily worship but we all should be glad to honour the beauty of its image in our daily lives.
