Labyrinth and Regeneration

Labyrinth and Regeneration.

Yesterday evening was book group, and we had read a book called 'Regeneration', by Pat Barker. It was a fascinating book for several reasons. Firstly, it was one of those books that was based on a true story. A psychiatrist, in the early days of the science - during the First World War in fact, was treating some of the poets that you do at school when you do - yes, First World War poets. The patients were Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen and Robert Graves.
The writing itself was interesting, because there was a slightly clipped tone to it, a succinctness, and yet not that impoverished style of some authors.
Something that was thought-provoking to me however, was the assertion on the front cover of the book, a quote from the Boston Globe, that it was a powerful piece of anti-war writing. No it wasn't. It gave us an account of just a few of the absolute horrors of that particular war, and one of the characters is against that particular war, but the author herself gives us no judgement, and the man who thinks the war is poorly managed, is nonetheless, determined to go back.
What was most compelling about the book, in my opinion, was the history of psychiatric treatment. It was also an easy, smooth read, lovely writing and an account of men's minds through the eyes of a woman.

This morning, for the first time, I walked the Labyrinth at our church. I was fascinated by this too, but hadn't known quite what to do, or to expect, so I was eager to attend the workshop.It was illuminating. And the experience of walking the Labyrinth, amazing. There were around twenty of us, and I would have expected that the more people walking at the same time, the less effective, but the opposite was true. It was like a metaphor for like, everyone lost in their own thoughts and looking down to follow the path, passing each other, aware of other people, in constant movement, at one moment on one side of the circle, then over the other side. You felt that you were part of a machine, and yet you felt you were entirely alone. I can't wait to do it again.