Cuddy

Cuddy is a nickname - the pet name of Saint Cuthbert who is the patron saint of Northumbria - an ancient kingdom that existed here on this island long before anyone dreamed of a country called England. Cuddy was buried in Durham Cathedral or maybe what I should say is that that great cathedral grew up because Cuthbert was buried there.

Some of you may recall that I was in Durham in January and walked from an outlying village into the heart of the historic city, primarily to visit the cathedral. And there I took a photo of the great slab of stone under which Cuddy's mortal remains still rest...

Before travelling to Egypt I bought a book called "Cuddy" by Benjamin Myers. I had read two of his earlier novels and very much enjoyed them so I expected that "Cuddy" would keep me happily entertained on the Nile river boat and on board the plane home. Of course I knew that Saint Cuthbert would be the book's main focus. That idea was fine by me.

Trouble was that when I began to read "Cuddy" I found the experience both frustrating  and irritating. It did not begin like any "normal" novel. There were several pages of quotations about Saint Cuthbert from a range of sources. And then there was a strange bittiness about the pages that followed - strange fragments, mutterings, pieces of poetry. Oh no! - I thought - this is not for me. So I put the book down thinking - some you win, some you don't. 

However, I had really enjoyed both "The Gallows Pole" and "The Offing" so for the five hour flight home from Luxor, I decided to give "Cuddy" another try. This time I knew what to expect and if I could battle through the early pages again perhaps I would be rewarded in the end.

Shirley had the window seat and a fidgety gentleman from Northern Ireland with a galling monotone voice had the aisle seat. I was trapped in the middle like a slice of corned beef in a sandwich. And so I began "Cuddy" again.

After fifty pages I was hooked.

After the prologue, the novel, if indeed you can call it a novel,  contains five separate movements including four  "books". They take us from AD995 to "The Daft Lad" in 2019. And throughout you feel the quiet presence of Saint Cuthbert - Cuddy.

The research that Benjamin Myers undertook to shore up what is effectively and ode to a legend, was both long and thorough - almost like building a great cathedral with printed words rather than quarried stone.

In the end I loved this book. I turned the pages with glee rather than duty and I was kind of sad to reach the last word which was "Leaves".

Here's another quotation from "Cuddy" just to give you a small flavour of the writing...

But then I awoke suddenly, stirred by what I perceived to be the sound of voices. When I opened my eyes …, I heard nothing but somehow felt quite certain of those voices – the echoes of whispered voices I should say – were still about the place. The whispers were words from a vocabulary I did not understand, a bastard tongue that appeared to make sense to the unseen speakers, but not to me, your impartial witness.

Stither.

Ungred.

Eedmah...

This comes from "The Corpse in the Cathedral" section in which a Cambridge academic, Professor Forbes Fawcett-Black, has been invited up to Durham to witness the exhumation  of Saint Cuthbert's remains. The year was 1827 and the grisly episode is based on real events.

There was lots of physicality in the telling of "Cuddy". Cold and hunger, sex and torture, blood and guts but never were these features gratuitous. They served the novel's broader aims. It was a real tour de force, an ambitious novel that pushed Benjamin Myers to the very limits of his artistic capabilities. Obviously, this book would not be for everybody but to me it was revelatory - rather like Saint Cuthbert himself. I am so glad that I gave it a second try.