Mike Hope. The “memory” of books
Even books have a memory. This is not the cover of a simple prayer booklet, the one you see above. Divided into three sections, “Morning”, “Noon” and “Night”, this precious booklet collects prayers, reflections and meditations that have been loved and used over the centuries in a wide variety of religious traditions in the English world.
Written and chosen not only for those who believe, but above all for those who do not believe. Writers, poets, artists and scientists, common or famous men who felt the need to say a prayer during their journey “for the long day”.
The words of the “morning”: God, universe, nature, animals, research, childhood, youth, education, friendship, work, city, travel, free time, nations, church.
The words of “midday”: belief, faith, Christianity, guidance, love, freedom, universality, usefulness, tolerance, friendship, call, dedicate, donate, service, courage, trust.
The words of the “night”: trial, dark days, problems, illness, pain, evil, suffering, insights, weakness, forgiveness, reflection, repentance, tranquility, meditation, wisdom, silence, time, prayer, thanks, blessing, evening, Christmas, age, death, peace, perspective, resurrection.
For every word, a search, a reflection, a memory. In my digital library I gave the book four stars because each star has a memorial value. Each word has its own relevance and correspondence with the “tags”, the key words that we call in Italian “labels”, for each book that the bibliomaniac places in his library.
I purchased it during a visit to the small church of “St Thomas of Canterbury in Cothelstone”, Taunton, Somerset, during a “Summer School” of the Taunton School in August 1999. 25 years have passed.
I visited it again with Mike Hope, an English university professor of Art History, writer and guide of many courses that my wife and I, with many of our Italian students, have had the opportunity to follow over the years.
I remember that before going to the mountains Quantocks to see the solar eclipse of that year, the group stopped in this delightful and ancient church. I stopped on the back of the postcard that day and that fantastic experience.
A cold and total darkness suddenly fell on the world, among those Quantocks mountains, a feeling of great stillness, frost and mystery, with a 360 degree view of a life yet to be understood. We were leaving Taunton the next day.
For several years, my wife and I have organized English language and civilization courses for young people and adults by participating in various “summer schools” in schools, colleges and public and private institutions. Once upon a time, in the eighties and nineties, these “summer schools” were very frequent. Today, for various understandable reasons, nothing remains but a memory. The books remain, only apparently cold and silent witnesses. They are my “food for thought”, each book is full of memories.
Scrolling through those pages you can find inside, a bookmark, a stain, a newspaper clipping, a photo, a sign, an underlining, a scratch on the page, even a coffee stain, the trace of a flower that communicates with you and takes you back in the time of memory that marks the rediscovered time. But today this book has a very particular memory. A very sad occasion.
Remembering the passing of a great friend, a great lover of English history, art and culture: Mike Hope. We had met him while still young, bold and strong, in his early thirties, in a previous “Summer School” at Loughborough University which was then called the “university of technology”. Early nineties.
Our son Alessandro was 15 years old, Mike played tennis with him in his free time. Guided by Mike, in a mini bus, we went through villages, churches and residences, “country houses” and museums, in search of ancient treasures and memories. Study groups of different nationalities, looking for “food for thoughts”.
Mike knew how to “feed us” by finding treasures of art and memories in the most unexpected places. His English was in perfect Oxfordian accent, his ever-present camera stopped both space and time, enlivening his lessons with endless slides and wonderful descriptions. From Loughborough, in subsequent summers, we went to Taunton School and then Marlborough College.
He loved Italy, our culture, our history, our cuisine. He was our guest with his family, Angie, his wife and son. I also took him to Sarno High School where he held an acclaimed conference on the theme of the English “Grand Tour” in Italy in the eighteenth century.
When I took him to Villa Cimbrone, he suffered from vertigo, I remember that sitting on the belvedere, under a blazing sun in mid-May, he gave me a long discussion about Stendhal syndrome, that affection causes tachycardia, dizziness, vertigo, confusion and hallucinations in subjects placed in the presence of works of art of extraordinary beauty. The one in Ravello.
A dark and implacable evil has crushed his strong fiber. We found out about his passing late. Someone wrote on his Facebook page:
“We lost this big hearted man. A larger than life force of nature has touched the heart of so many people. Mike will be missed so very much. His body couln’t win the fight but his spirit will live on”.
“We have lost this man with a big heart. A force greater than life in nature has touched the hearts of so many people. We will miss Mike dearly. His body could not win the battle, but his spirit will live on.”
Farewell, my dear friend.
Originally published at https://angallo.medium.com on January 11, 2024.
