a tragic tale about the Spirit versus the Flesh.
"Have pity on such callow fledglings, O Lord, for those who pass by on the road may tread them underfoot. Send your angel to put them back in the nest, so that they may live and learn to fly."
St Augustine: Confessions, Book 12: 27.
Is it possible that a five hundred year old tragic love story of a young monk and his lover could impact on a family in the present day? As Joe reads an old folk tale and is drawn into a world of religious fanatics, witches, angels and she-devils, this unlikely possibility gradually becomes increasingly probable.
A story about the desires of the sexes and the doctrines of religion, with and hints at the supernatural and beautiful and atmospheric imagery, this controversial, adult, speculative, spiritual and philosophical tale will intrigue, entertain and keep you guessing in equal measure up until the last page.
(Warning to sensitive readers; the story is an adult one and so deals with adult themes. It contains what some might find to be controversial views on both religion and sex, as well as mild sex scenes.)
.
To purchase this story click here.
Background Information.
This story of The Ghost Moth came together as a result of my musing on:- religious fanaticism, ‘me too’, and the idea of a location being cursed as the result of something having happened there in the past. Yes, a strange mix, but I hope it makes for an interesting story.
History is all too easily forgotten. So I thought it would be as well to remind ourselves that Christianity used to be just as misogynist, intolerant and barbaric as anything we read about in our newspapers these days. For a religion which is supposed to be about love and tolerance one does have to wonder where this came from. Of course religion and sex always seem to have been at loggerheads, but why? Possibly it had / has something to do with the fact that men were / are primarily instrumental in creating religion, whereas women were / are more concerned with creating offspring. Saint Paul observed in Galatians 5.17, ‘For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.’ So are the innate differences between male and female those which drive the differences between spiritual desires, or perhaps we should say religious doctrine, and sexual desires? And how did these become as extreme as they did? In order to dig into possible causes, I necessarily had to look at the lives and writings of some of the early saints so as to, I hope, shed some light on this.
Back in those very early days and the later days of yore, women’s rights were all but non-existent and religious misogynists could brand a woman as a she-devil or witch and hence condemn her as such just because ….. well, was any real hard evidence actually necessary? And it stuck me that the ‘me-too’ movement was in great danger of doing exactly the same to men these days, with a woman throwing out an unsubstantiated accusation, which all have to take on trust, about a supposed event which took place years previously and which she had said nothing about at the time. Yes, we know men exploit women, but women also exploit men and this appears to have been forgotten. The exploitation may take a different form, but it is exploitation nonetheless and this of course feeds back into the conflict between the Flesh and the Spirit, and so I wanted to include this in my story.
Although the tale was going to be a work of fiction and as I always feel that the best fiction is based on reality - we all know the saying ‘truth is stranger than fiction’! - I wanted to base as much of it as possible on ‘things real.’ The description of the present day ruins of Blackacres Monastery is loosely based on those of a monastery here in Northumberland. The ‘stone road’ leading from it and general description of the countryside are all based on local reality. A family visit to a wooden sculpture of a giant head which one can go into, coupled with some truly bizarre looking trees (the image used for the cover was taken in North Yorkshire) resulted in both gradually morphing in my imagination into the tree in this story. And yes, Ghost Moths (Hepialus humuli) do exist, and with a name like that I couldn’t miss using one as an avatar in the tale and so its name as the title of this story.
I have sought to ensure that the bibliographical and historical elements are correct and offer my apologies if anything mentioned is incorrect. Whereas I realise that the views expressed on both religion and sex might be considered by some as controversial, I have endeavoured to be as even-handed as possible. However, the quotations cited are very real and hence referenced, and so I hope there is no controversy about who said or wrote what!
Although perhaps we might like to wish that the day might come when ‘the flesh ceaseth to lust against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh’ this seems unlikely, because, as Saint Paul said nearly two thousand years ago, ‘these are contrary one to the other,’ as of course are the innate desires which drive both male and female.
I hope you enjoy my story.
Sample Chapter.
The Ghost Moth
Chapter 1
“Master Callow joined the Black Acres Monastery as a novice-monk in the early weeks of 1535. He was a thin gangly youth somewhere in his late teens or possibly his early twenties, and in his black monk’s habit, which was way too big for him, looked even thinner and paler. The cord at his waist did nothing to assist in the hiding of his scrawny physique as it gathered the coarse material of the habit into numerous folds making it look like an oversized sack hanging from his pinched shoulders, thus emphasizing the puny body beneath it rather than hiding it. He was from a middle class family and so had had a relatively privileged and relatively sheltered upbringing, with the result that he knew little of the world out there which lay beyond the walls of his parents home. No, Master Callow was certainly not street wise; naive would be the polite way to describe him, green or wet behind the ears the less polite way. He was at an age where he would have been self-conscious anyway, but dressed up in that sack of a habit that he’d been given to wear and with his head tonsured to boot, he was a virtual nervous wreck and about as shy and self-conscious as a young man of his years could be.”
Joe had commenced his tale by reading directly from a book entitled, ‘Folk Tales and Legends of Hartstane’ which his then wife Elizabeth had given him as a birthday present. Having got everyone’s attention, he then went on to explain,
“You know how it is when you get a book - well a reference book anyway and I would call a book like this, on folk tales and legends, a reference book, even though one can be fairly certain that most of it is fiction - you open it and idly flick though the pages, or run your eye down the contents page, and end up looking at something that for some reason or other just happens to grab your attention. Well, in this case the something that grabbed my attention was a rather lovely atmospheric pen and ink drawing of a bizarre looking tree with what looked like a face formed in its exposed roots which were hanging curtain-like down a small cliff face. According to the blurb, there was a small cave behind the curtain of roots, and also according to the blurb, it was easy to visit, being just a few hundred metres off the Hartstane road. Intrigued by the fact that the odd looking tree of the illustration did not feature in the title and by the possibility that we could easily go and have a look at it, I started to read the story. It was entitled ‘The Ghost Moth.’
Of course I knew it was just a folk tale and so I was expecting it to be a colourful blend of fiction built around the flimsiest of evidence. However, as events gradually unfolded, my then wife and I came to suspect that possibly the story was all too horribly true, and both she and I had times when we seriously wished that:- a) I hadn’t requested it and b) she hadn’t bought it for me. However, these misgivings all came a bit later. This is the book,” he said holding up the volume, “but I won’t bore you by reciting it word for word. I’ll just read the first bit and once we’ve got started will endeavour to recount both the tale itself and the events that occurred as I was reading it.”
Reopening the book, Joe continued reading,
“A monastic life offered both an education and secure future. So young Master Callow’s parents had approached the prior, a stern elderly man who went under the name of Prior Obscurant, and after a suitable donation to the Monastery’s funds had been made, it was agreed that their son would enter into the loving bosom of the Church, which would educate and prepare him for his life ahead.
The Black Acres Monastery was part of the Black Acres Priory. This religious complex covered several acres of land just off the road to Hartstane and was so named because the monks wore black habits. So named by the local people that is, because its official name was The Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine, as it was the teachings of both that were supposedly the disciplinary yardsticks of the Priory and Monastery, though perhaps it was Prior Obscurant’s interpretation of a quotation from The Revelation of St John the Divine that better explained his religious philosophy and hence the actual yardsticks that were used at Black Acres - ‘And I looked, and, lo, a Lamb stood on the Mount Sion, and with him a hundred and forty four thousand, having His Father’s name written in their foreheads. And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder: and I heard the voice of harpers harping with their harps: and they sung as it were a new song before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth. These are they which were not defiled with women; for they are the virgins.’ - because what Prior Obscurant desired above all else was to be one of the hundred and forty four thousand, and those within his pastoral care were also going to be in the hundred and forty four thousand, whether they liked it or not, or else he had failed in his duty.
As well as being elderly and stern, Prior Obscurant was tall, thin and aesthetic looking. I couldn’t help but imagine him looking like some fanatical prophet as depicted by the likes of El Greco,” suggested Joe, “with eyes blazing out of an emaciated face and looking fervently towards Heaven. As you can probably guess, he held that faith and belief were about abstinence, penance and mortification of the body. All other aspects of faith, such as love, understanding, tolerance, forgiveness or charity were either a long way further down his list of priorities, or had little or no importance whatsoever. Of course it stood to reason that if a man understood his purpose on this earth and conducted his life accordingly, then he had no need of understanding, tolerance, forgiveness or charity. It was only those who did not understand their purpose in life that had any requirement for any of these. And as for love; Almighty God was the ultimate expression of Divine Love, which was endless and available to all who sought after the true path to Him, and so to have anything which had pretensions to being even vaguely similar to this most glorious love, was both an insult to God as well as being entirely unnecessary! Indeed, anything like this, such as love towards one’s fellow man, or worse, indeed unspeakably worse still, love towards one’s fellow woman, could not only prove to be a distraction to the true believer, but be something that the very Devil might throw in his path to tempt him to stray off the true way and into a life of decadence and debauchery! Man was not put upon this earth by Almighty God to do frivolous things like enjoy himself or plunge himself into sin.
He applied his chosen philosophy to all men, not just those under his guiding hand at the Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine, and was openly disdainful of all, including the monastery’s tenant farmers and trades people, who did anything to bring a bit of colour into their poverty struck lives. How could they expect to achieve any form of enlightenment - of course they could never possibly become one of the hundred and forty four thousand, that went without saying - which might, just might mind you, permit them to enter the outer reaches of the paradise of Heaven that awaits those who have led a pure and abstemious life in seeking after the true path to God? It probably never occurred to him that these peasants had more than enough abstinence and struggle in their lives while just keeping their temporal bodies and souls together, without worrying about their spiritual ones.
The local Duke and his family were a slight exception to Prior Obscurant’s black and white view of the world and mankind. After all it was the generosity of the Duke’s fore-bearers that had provided both the land for the priory and monastery and the finance to build them. That act alone would secure their places in the Celestial Kingdom and so minor indiscretions on this earth such as the Duke’s male offspring indulging in the odd drunken rampage through a local village, or siring the odd illegitimate child or two, could be overlooked, as could be the debauched behaviour of the female members of his family with some of the local menfolk, though this was a little harder for Prior Obscurant, as quite simply women, other than of course the Holy Virgin Mary, the most pure and sacred women to have ever set foot upon this earth, and Saint Bibiana, who had died defending her faith and virginity, did not feature other than as whores and she-devils cast down with Satan and his despicable followers to tempt men into sin and away from their quest for truth, enlightenment and attaining the eternal glory of God’s Glorious Kingdom. For did The Revelation of St John not clearly state that, ‘These (the hundred and forty four thousand) are they which were not defiled with women?’
Now, do not be deceived into thinking that Prior Obscurant was in any way an eccentric, somewhat misinformed kindly old priest, as unfortunately this was most certainly not the case. He was fanatically serious about both what he believed in and in his role in this life; that of achieving salvation for himself, and the others in his care, in the next. Like all Zealots who know the truth, he was sour, miserable, intolerant and hard hearted as a man could be. Yes, this bigoted tyrant was in charge at the Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine and so it was he who was the man who was in charge of educating and preparing our young Master Callow for his life ahead.
Young Master Callow, though now we should properly refer to him as young novice-brother Callow, was assigned to an older, more experienced brother whose task it was to guide him in his spiritual development, teach him the ways of monastic life and generally be his confidant and guardian. It was novice-brother Callow’s misfortune, as it was also the misfortune of all the other novice-monks to be assigned to the care of a mean spirited, nasty and, as we shall learn later sadistic little man called Rodiron McBane, the novice-master of the Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine.
Novice-master Rodiron McBane was a wizened little specimen with a pronounced chin, sunken cheeks and dark, cold, fierce eyes deeply set in his skull beneath a heavy brow and bushy eyebrows. He had served with Prior Obscurant ever since the Prior had taken up his post and, like a blind disciple, also held that the only way to salvation was through abstinence, penance and mortification of the body; only his interpretation of abstinence was verging on starvation, penance was all-but total humiliation and mortification of the body of course meant mortification of the flesh. Perhaps not unreasonably when seen from his viewpoint, novice-master Rodiron McBane reasoned, though reasoning was not his strongest point, that the novice-monks did not, as yet, have full awareness of what sacrifices and strictures they needed to impose on their lives, and bodies, in order to become worthy vessels of God, attain salvation and join the chosen one hundred and forty four thousand, and so saw it as his duty to ‘educate’ them is such matters. But more of this an on.”
Joe paused, before continuing in a slightly travel guide manner,
“As you all probably know pieces of the Black Acres Priory and Monastery can still be seen today. The best preserved parts are the original fortified Gatehouse to the monastic complex and the Priory Church of Saints Paul and Augustine, both at the north end of Blackacres village, along with parts of the now upmarket hotel next door to the Church. Also still evident is the square footprint of possibly the cloisters, which is now the village square. Many of the buildings since built around it are in stone, which was no doubt looted from the ruins of the old monastery in the late sixteen, early seventeen hundreds. Indeed, it is the looting of stone that has left the Priory Church looking a little strange architecturally, because of course it was designed as part of the priory monastery complex and not as a stand alone church. After the Dissolution of the Monasteries under Henry VIII, Black Acres fell into disrepair and ruin, and the present day Priory Church was likewise a ruin until rebuilt and repaired at the same time as the rest of the village.
Having been in the hotel I can vouch for the fact that it has a lovely olde worlde dining room and an atmospheric crypt bar with stone barrel vaulting, but, as I have never stayed there I can’t tell you about the rest of the building other than to mention that the ruins of the Prior’s garden can be seen poking though the grass outside the dining room windows. Many of the monastery’s tenants would have lived in thatched roofed, wattle and daub huts just outside the monastery walls. These, both the wattle and daub huts and the walls, with the exception of the Gatehouse, are of course long gone. Whether any of the old peasants’ houses were replaced by the current stone built ones is, according to those who purport to know about these things, impossible to say. No doubt some were, but most of the stone houses were probably built at the time the village received a major makeover when mining took off in the area.
And here endeth the local history lesson,” said Joe with a smile, “and so now back to young brother Callow.”
“Young novice-brother Callow, along with two other new novices, joined the existing three already under the tender guiding hand of novice-master Rodiron McBane, thus bringing the total of novice-monks to six. These novices did not sleep in the main dormitory with the senior monks, as the ever vigilant Prior Obscurant foresaw that young boys in the senior monks dortor, or dormitory, might prove to be a night time temptation towards improper conduct - young boys being just one rung up the ladder from she-devils! - and so the novices had a separate, bare stone-walled Spartan cell of a dortor, though cellar might be a better description, directly beneath the senior monks’ reredorters, or toilet block, which was located at the end of their (the senior monks) dormitory. Although geographically near their dormitory, the massive stone construction of the building effectively put it about as far away as it was possible to be. And if the foregoing did not prove to be a sufficient enough obstacle to any impure goings on, the presence of novice-master McBane, who slept in a cot outside but next to the entrance of the novices’ dortor, most certainly was!
The novices’ effectively subterranean cell wasn’t actually below ground, but may as well have been for it was only graced with one small window set high up in its farthest wall and candle light was required if one actually wished to see anything and avoid stubbing one’s sandal clad toes on any of the hardwood cots. However, as the novices had no reason to be there during the day, why did they need natural light? This cave of a dormitory contained ten cots. Each was furnished with a straw filled mattress, a lumpy pillow and a black rough haired blanket. Unlike the senior monks dormitory, where wooden partitions between the cots afforded some form of privacy, the dormitory of the novices contained no such luxuries. However, as all the novice-monks slept fully clothed (so as to be ready for prayer every three hours, both day and night) any further privacy was deemed unnecessary and the absence of visual obstructions such as partitions, meant that novice-master McBane could keep an eagle eye on those in his care and so ensure that they did not fall into the last of the temptations that Saint Paul alluded to in his first Epistle to the Corinthians - ‘Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves, etc., shall inherit the Kingdom of God.’ - McBane’s task was after all to ensure that the novices did inherit the Kingdom of God.
However, novice-master Rodiron McBane not only looked out for and guarded against the weaknesses of the flesh in others, but also in himself and had had a circular brick bath constructed in his cell which was filled with ice cold water into which he occasionally immersed himself so as to ‘quench the heat in himself of every vice’, as Walter Daniel, the biographer of the novice-master, Aelred at Rievaulx Abbey had so eloquently described such action in his journal as being the purpose for a similar bath by the aforementioned novice-master at Rievaulx.
Immediately beyond the entrance to the novice-master’s cell and bathroom, a short flight of steps led up to a slype, or corridor, which eventually wound its way to the cloisters and thence an entrance to the priory church, thus obviating the need for a night stairs for the novice-monks, and so to the rest of the monastery. However, way before it reached the full light of day and just a short way beyond the top of the flight of steps was an opening into a small bare stone built chapel dedicated to St Bibiana, which was for the exclusive use of the novices.
This chapel would have been about three metres wide and about five long. It was lit in daylight hours by three lancet shaped windows set high up in its far, curved, apse-like wall. Beneath these was a hideously graphic polychrome wooden sculpture of the Crucified Christ, no doubt chosen quite deliberately by Prior Obscurant as he liked to emphasise to those in his care just how much Christ had suffered for mankind and hence how much they, the novice-monks who would use this chapel, would need to suffer if they wished to become one of the blessed one hundred and forty four thousand. This message was reinforced by a blood-soaked crown of thorns which was positioned midway between the sculpture and the windows above it. Directly beneath these two gory artefacts was a small altar, curved at its rear and set flush against the wall. Beneath the altar were two small cupboards, presumably containing religious accoutrements for ceremonies conducted in the chapel. On the top of the altar were set two candles in heavy wrought iron sticks, one at each end. And finally, just in case Prior Obscurant’s message still hadn’t got home, four large, square headed, black iron nails arranged in a heap at its centre.
In front of and to the right of this gruesome display was a free-standing polychrome-on-wood statue mounted on a short pillar. One could hazard a guess that it was meant to be of the Virgin Mary; her hands were held meekly in prayer, her gaze averted and thus she looked the very picture of female purity and innocence. However, her all too obviously very thin white and blue robes pulled tightly across and beneath her bust, thus both indicating and emphasising this, and her pronounced fecund belly, rounded hips and thighs, all of which were clearly visible beneath the robes coupled with the all too evident display of female submissiveness, unfortunately did rather suggest that the aforementioned qualities of purity and innocence were possibly not all directed towards God. Just in front of this appallingly kitsch and sacrilegious statue was a tall heavy wrought iron candlestick with a candle positioned so that when lit it would light this tasteless effigy. Opposite her and to the left of the central harrowing image was another free-standing polychrome-on-wood sculpture. This was also mounted on a short pillar and depicted the saint to whom the chapel was dedicated; Saint Bibiana. She also had a candle in a large candlestick, similarly placed so as to light her.
Saint Bibiana? The story ran that under the orders of Apronianus, the Governor of Rome, Bibiana had been tied to a pillar and beaten to death with scourges laden with lead plummets because of her refusal to renounce both her faith and apparently her virginity. No doubt both Prior Obscurant and novice-master Rodiron McMane reasoned that if this dreadful end wasn’t mortification of the flesh, then nothing was. Unfortunately she was a woman, but fortunately she was a virgin, which counted in her favour because no doubt there had some misgivings about having a woman as a patron saint to be venerated in this, the novices’ chapel. However, this also appallingly tasteless sculpture showed a well endowed and very curvaceous looking female figure clad in gilded sackcloth - yes, gilded! - with long black flowing hair cascading over white skinned shoulders and in a pose of almost erotic mad ecstasy looking up to heaven whilst clutching the distinctly phallic shaped handled, blood soaked scourge as if it were the source of her pleasure rather than the instrument of her death.
Indeed, both female figures had a not-so-well-hidden eroticism about them. One would certainly wish to think that neither the Prior or novice-master had noticed the sexuality in the poses when selecting these statues for the chapel, both women had been virgins after all. However, even if these appalling depictions didn’t look quite as virginal and demure as they should have done, the ladies themselves were still excellent examples piety. On the other hand, possibly we should not overlook the likelihood that these particular - well, we certainly can’t out of respect for the two saintly ladies properly call them likenesses - had been deliberately chosen to test the resolve of the novices, to see if they could keep their minds on their devotions whilst gazing on these portraits of female temptation and wanton abandon. Or, was it that Prior Obscurant knew nothing of these statues, this part of the monastery being the novice-master’s terrain, and that it was novice-master Rodiron McBane himself who gained illicit pleasure from looking at them, as it was under his watchful eye that novice-brother Callow and his five fellow novices were required to pray in this chapel and so gaze upon these dreadful artefacts at least once in the morning after rising from their cots and once in the evening before retiring? Whereas the novices may have suffered from either nightmares or ‘inappropriate’ dreams as a result of praying in this chapel, novice-master Rodiron McBane probably did not have the sensitivity to suffer from nightmares and did have an ice cold bath in his cell in which to ‘quench the heat in himself’ before retiring.
Thank goodness however, there were other aspects of life at Black Acres Monastery which were altogether simpler to understand and live with, and one of these was working in the monastery’s vegetable garden. Each of the young novices was assigned a manual task in the monastic complex so as to free-up time for the more senior monks to devote to their scriptures and tasks of a non-manual nature, and young novice-brother Callow had been assigned to work under a kindly old monk, brother La Roche, who was in charge of the flower and vegetable garden, and the orchard at Black Acres.
Brother La Roche, like novice-master McBane, had served with Prior Obscurant ever since the latter had taken up his calling to be Prior of The Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine. However, brother La Roche couldn’t have been more different from either the Prior or novice-master. Unlike these two, brother La Roche had no real burning desire to become one of the one hundred and forty four thousand. Oh yes, he wished to go to Heaven if God would be good enough to have him, but, as we shall learn later, his concept of Heaven was not the same as Prior Obscurant’s and he held that honest hard work, love, understanding, tolerance, forgiveness and charity was the route to this end, not unpleasant sounding things like self-imposed abstinence and mortification of body. Possibly because of this, he, unlike both Prior Obscurant or novice-master Rodiron McBane, usually had a smile on his round weather-beaten face.
Although not as tall as his Prior - he was about the same height as the novice-master - brother La Roche was certainly physically stronger than both, being a square set, solid man, who in his youth would have been described as being ‘as strong as an ox.’ However, when young brother Callow joined him in the garden he would probably be best described as being ‘as strong as an old ox’ for he was well into his seventies. His active life, being both out of doors in the fresh air and the physical work involved in tending the garden, had kept him fit and healthy both in body and soul. So we can imagine him jovially greeting young Callow with a beaming,
“Ah, so you are our new brother Callow. So tell me, do you know anything about gardening and horticulture?”
“A little,” might have been the reply of the shy Callow.
“Ah, good, then you will learn quickly. That is why you and I are here brother, to learn, to learn how Almighty God in His wisdom has provided for us. Though in His wisdom He does not simply provide us with our food and sustenance, the simple provision of which would make us lazy, but makes us work for it, so that after the sweat of our labours we appreciate it all the more. Now let me show you round before we start on the business of learning.”
And with that and with young brother Callow in tow, we can visualise him setting off round the vegetable garden and its outbuildings at a spirited pace for a seventy year old man.
The monastery did not grow all its vegetable requirements and took much of these in tithes from its tenant farmers. What brother La Roche and his team focused on was quality and specialist produce; what these days we would describe ‘high end’ produce. This included exotic fruit and vegetables such as various types of apple, pear, peach, damson and quince grown from espalier trees (those with their branches trained along wooden frames in front of sheltered south facing walls) as well as grapes grown on vines which had been trained up and over wooden arches and pergolas that been specially constructed for this purpose in the monastery’s joinery workshop. In a large annex to the garden was a physic garden in which were grown the various herbs and flowers that were useful for medicinal purposes. Brother La Roche and his team’s responsibility did not actually extend to the making of medicines and potions, that was the metier of a different team of monks, but they were responsible for growing all the necessary ingredients for same.
What would have immediately struck novice-brother Callow was the neat, tidy and ordered layout of everything. Every tree appeared to have its place, every crop type its particular bed, and as brother La Roche would have informed him, young novice-brother Callow’s task would be to assist in maintaining this order while he learnt the nature of, the requirements of, and the usefulness of each of the plants he was tending. He was also shown the garden’s irrigation system which brought water in at the top of the garden and gradually distributed it via a network of small stone canals and troughs to ponds in all parts of the garden. Brother Callow had never seen anything like this; water cascading over small weirs, being retained and diverted by small gates, and flowing to where it was required, in such an ordered and controlled manner and marvelled at the engineering involved.
“Oh, you will learn about all of this,” said brother La Roche, noticing the look of wonder on the young novice’s face, “but all in good time. We can’t do everything today, or we would have nothing to do tomorrow.”
After a quick tour of the garden, brother La Roche then showed young Callow the various buildings in which were stored the variety tools that were used for the multitude of tasks that were required in the garden and very briefly ran through the uses of some of the implements, though he then added,
“The use of each and indeed the design of each will become much clearer when you use them. The form of many of these tools has evolved over years and in some cases centuries. That scythe for example has probably changed little since our Lord’s day.”
Poor young novice-brother Callow; his head was swimming with all of this. When he had answered brother La Roche’s question about how much he knew about gardening and had answered ‘a little’ he had never realised that there was so much knowledge required. Each aspect appeared to be an individual discipline in itself. Just knowing about the different trees; how and where to plant them, how to tend them, train them and prune them, what tools to use for each job, what water and fertilizer they required, how to guard them against insects which might cause damage to the tree itself or its fruit, how to protect them against the ravages of storms and winter cold, could take a lifetime. And that was just trees! What of all the fruit bushes, vegetables, not to mention the culinary and medicinal herbs and flowers? Oh goodness, there was so much to learn. Fortunately brother La Roche seemed a kindly and patient man and so although young Callow did feel somewhat daunted by the task in front of him, he also felt that here in the garden he might find some peace and contentment and actually enjoy learning all this new knowledge, whereas he wasn’t so sure he could say the same about some of his other studies.
Many of these other studies were undertaken in the cloisters under the supervision of novice-master McBane or even Prior Obscurant himself, and included analysis and interpretation of the scriptures in general, psalms, the epistles of Saint Paul, the teachings of Saint Augustine, with of course particular emphasis on understanding the ‘correct interpretation of’ - for which read, ‘Prior Obscurant’s interpretation of’ - The Revelation of St John the Divine. Also included were the laws and rules of the Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine, together with ecclesiastic and canon law, and then, if the foregoing was not enough, the understanding of and interpretation of the various papal edicts which arrived from Rome.
Now, it must be remembered of course, that young novice-brother Callow’s attendance at the monastery was not as a result of some burning desire on his part to achieve spiritual enlightenment and join God in His Heaven, though he certainly wanted Heaven rather than Hell, but was somewhat more down to earth and practical. Namely, his parents had thought it a good way to secure him both an education and profession whilst at the same time enhancing their family’s position in society by have one of their sons in the Church. Becoming one of the ‘one hundred and forty four thousand’ had never been a factor considered by either young Callow himself or his parents, as none of them had even heard of the ‘one hundred and forty four thousand’ until young novice-brother Callow had been informed of this by both Prior Obscurant and novice-master Rodiron McBane, and had been left in no doubt by both that this was the ultimate objective of all who served God at the Priory and Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine.
“If ye are to becometh one of the blessed one hundred and forty four thousand,” had boomed Prior Obscurant, who evidently felt that a pseudo-Biblical style of speech added a necessary gravitas to his words of wisdom, “then your lives needeth to be wholly, yea wholly spent in your devotion to God. There can be no middle way!”
A raised right arm with wagging forefinger had emphasised this point to the three new novice monks sitting on a hard wooden bench in front of him who, we can guess had upon hearing this, no doubt wondered what it was they had committed themselves to.
“Ye must avoideth all temptation. Yea, all temptation, for the Devil will findeth all manner of ways to tricketh ye and tempteth ye into leaving the true, narrow path to Almighty God. And the foremost temptation that the Devil places in the path of man, is woman!”
He stood there with his arm and finger pointing prophetically skywards, his eyes ablaze but saying nothing further so that the full weight of his last proclamation might make its mark on the naive and innocent souls of his three new followers. The general countenance of Novice-master Rodiron McBane, who sat ram-rod straight on the same bench as his three new young protégés, was also something to behold. His eyes blazed with the zeal of the blindly converted. Every word confirmed his calling, confirmed his purpose. Indeed, such was his devotion to Prior Obscurant that he would have followed him into Hell itself if so commanded - except of course, they weren’t going in that direction, their path was upward, upward to the Divine Celestial Kingdom!
Then, after a theatrical pause, Prior Obscurant continued more quietly and explained,
“For as St Paul stated in his epistle to the Galatians, chapter 5, verse 17, ‘For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.’ So my young brothers, mark ye well therefore the words of our Patron Saint Paul and avoideth all temptations of the flesh.”
But he couldn’t keep the passion out of his voice, or his arm with its wagging forefinger by his side for long and as his voice rose in volume so his arm and finger rose towards God’s heaven.
“Heedeth that which is written, for ‘the wrath of God cometh on the children of disobedience.” And then, no doubt to emphasise this, he continued with, “Mark well the teaching that ‘he that overcometh, and keepeth my works unto the end, to him I will give power over the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron.’”
Was this Prior Obscurant’s way of letting it be known that he had given ‘power over the nations’ to McBane to rule the lives of the young novices?
“And you my young brothers, need to not only learn the lessons of our faith, but also learn the disciplines of it and learn to cleanse yourselves, yea cleanse yourselves as St Paul hath written, of ‘inordinate affection and evil concupiscence.” and with a nod in novice-master McBane’s direction, added, “Heed well your novice-master, for he knoweth the sacrifices to be made, he knoweth the hard route to be trod, and his firm hand will guideth you.
Amen.”
Had this happened today, we might reasonably guess that the three novices might have looked at each other wondering if the fellow lecturing them was somewhat off his trolley. However, we must remember this happened several hundred years ago when attitudes and beliefs were very different. So instead of speculating on the sanity of Prior Obscurant, they were more than likely in awe of and very possibly frightened by his words; he was talking about the fate of their immortal souls after all.
To purchase this story click here.
Reviews.
*****
The Ghost Moth by Leslie Garland is a stirring novel about faith, temptation, and the nature of evil. Set in 1535, Master Adam Callow joins the Black Acres Monastery as a novice monk. He comes from a middle-class family and so has a relatively privileged and sheltered upbringing, but very little knowledge of the outside world. The head of the monastery, the Prior Obscurant, applies his rigid moral philosophy to all men, including the belief that the Almighty God didn’t put man upon this earth to do frivolous things. Adam will find himself questioning this belief as he goes to the market one day and is drawn to a beautiful woman. The Prior Obscurant is openly disdainful toward the monastery’s tenant farmers and tradespeople who do anything to bring color into their life of abstinence, penance, and mortification of the body.
I had many reasons to love this work of fiction. Growing up in a country where religion wields a considerable influence, Adam is a character that I find taking a step with me toward common ground. Adam is earnest in learning and discovering, but he is also a critical thinker, a man who is ahead of his time when it comes to personal philosophy, and how this translates and impacts the people around him. Joe, as the narrator, reads Adam’s story with deep fascination, and the experience shapes him the way it will shape you. Anyone who is not familiar with the period in which The Ghost Moth is set will not get lost, as Leslie Garland’s pristine narrative and crisp details give this story a strong three-dimensional feel. It is an intriguing story about the fallibility of age-old dogmas that will challenge you to think while you are entertained at the same time. I highly recommended this story for its intelligence and honesty.
Vincent Dublado, Readers’ Favorite. April 2022
*****
I love a spooky old tale and this book is just that. I can just imagine sitting in a quiet, old pub in a little English village listening to this story. The writer does a fine job of grabbing your attention and holding it, setting the scene perfectly. The story itself is so absorbing and wicked. The scenes are so vividly depicted and the characters so well described you can picture them from head to toe. A great book to capture your imagination and keep you on the edge of your seat.
Read Bunny's / Seacaves' full review on Amazon and Goodreads
*****
The grim tree, beautiful but mortally dangerous moths, the great depression and reminiscence of the former love in bloom; not in Shakespearian way; and tragedy of two men from different times who met on the same circumstances. All packed in a fast-paced, action-filled story by the pen of life collected by Mr Garland.
I recommend this book for all truth-between-pages readers who are not afraid of being exposed to raw feelings and acts of the characters inside.
Read Rachel Nefeke's full review on Goodreads
*****
The Ghost Moth by Leslie Garland is a captivating novel that explores various themes such as religion, love, lust, and piety. The story follows the life of novice Adam Callow, who joins the Black Acres Monastery of Saints Paul and Augustine to become a monk, by choice of his parents. The prior of the monastery interprets scriptures in his own way, intending to ensure that those under his care become "the 144,000" who will inherit the Kingdom of God. In the dark times of the mid-16th century, the story raises important issues while developing the fears of a young man. The author manages to create an interesting, coherent, and very well-told human novel that is both terrifying and fascinating. The ending is surprising and fitting for the story. The Ghost Moth is a must-read for fans of Christian and horror fiction alike.
Read E.L. McKenzie's review on Goodreads and Amazon
*****
I enjoyed this story, and while the story may or may not be based on fact, the premise takes into account the ways and the meanness of unchecked authority that can and does rule and ruin lives. A continual slant was interwoven to bring the stories together to make them believable seamlessly.
Found this author in a group on Facebook - read the blurb, and decided I wanted to read it. Glad I did - I will be back for more of his intrigue.
Read Paula Shene's review on Amazon
*****
I was intrigued by the title, but the book wasn’t what I expected. It was both different and better. There was a supernatural element in The Ghost Moth, but Garland introduced it slowly, at first with subtle hints, and never bluntly. The main characters, ranging from admirable to pathetic to despicable, were well written and believable. The Ghost Moth was thoughtfully written, and should be read the same way.
Read Robert Clark's review on Goodreads
