Travel Writing Blog: Entry 1

The Manor

Strolling down a gravel road through the English morning mists, I take a moment to pause and give a glance to where I had come from; that massive structure of stone and brick—a monument to… what? In all honesty, I don’t know. Though eager to form an opinion, I missed the history tour and will continue in my ignorance to admire this building for what it is—a brilliant work of architecture. But, is it? I ask myself this question because I just can’t help it. Though I had decided I would get some fresh air, the house calls me back inside to take another look. I seem to remember one of my fictional heroes, an architect himself, decrying the illogical obsession with tradition in architecture, and the beauty of function over form. Like an apple dipped in caramel, the interior of Harlaxton Manor seems to have been dipped in marble statues (some real and some false), intricate tiling, numerous winding staircases, and gilded designs of wood and plaster. And like a caramel apple, all this stuff seems to attract a lot of nuts… but then—I always take a metaphor a step or two too far. I shake off the poetic daze I’ve allowed myself to fall into and walk lightly into the State Dining Room. Ahead of me is a massive marble table, with a large enough surface, that you could sacrifice a lamb on it. Looking up, I see molding that looks like icing on a cake that has too much icing. It’s becoming apparent to me that I am just not well educated enough to appreciate such a complicated structure and all of its gaudy ornamentation. No Missouri boy who hails from a field of boxes known as the “suburb” could possibly “get it”. Then, thinking of how the architecture of a building reflects the values of its architect and its tenants, I recall some of the things I was taught, growing up in Missouri. A penny saved is a penny earned—Put only on your plate what you know you can eat—Frugality is a virtue. This building flies in the face of all of these things! Back in my simple dorm room—no doubt stylistically converted over the years—I look at the plain, smooth desk and tightly-knit blue carpet—the frameless mirror above the modern porcelain sink—the stainless furniture of condensed particle board… and for a moment, I’m back home.