by Max Bayliss, The Critic
Visit these extraordinary communities before they disappear
I stared dumbfounded at the Carthusian monk, bent to sketch an absolution over the grizzled axe-man by whom he was, moments later, to be strangled, castrated and disemboweled, in preparation for his limbs and head to be severed from his body. All around, his brothers in religion were rapt in the agonies of this hideous torture, their mouths gaping in an eternal, silent howl.
This silence is rarely broken within these walls, except for prayers or the bells which call the monks to chapel. I was in the Chapter House of St Hugh’s Charterhouse, West Sussex. Its painted panorama is a gory 19th century mural depicting the martyrdom of the Carthusian brotherhood, and it is here that the monks meet regularly to discuss the business of the community.
But discussion hardly describes the solemnity of the proceedings. My guide, Brother Edward, explained, “When a monk wants anything he must lay prostrate in the middle of the room until the Prior bids him, saying, ‘What do you ask for, Brother?’ The answer is ‘Mercy’, the answer is always mercy. The monk goes on to ask for prayer for a departed soul, or for grace on the anniversary of life profession and the prior replies, ‘The community will pray for you.’ And that increases your isolation. That is why we are here.”