Manchester Sermon – Ali Smith
18th of October 2012
Reviewed by Rachel Heaton.
I approach Manchester Cathedral with a certain amount of trepidation; I have never been inside and only know it as ‘that great big ‘churchy’ thing behind M&S’. Inside it is suitably cathedral-like (I nervously pull my too-short skirt down) and, despite my early arrival, is already full of people talking about highbrow literature while sipping wine. It feels like the sort of event where you need a glass of wine in your hand. Ali Smith and broadcaster Edward Stourton are already happily chatting to members of the audience.
The murmuring dies down as the choir enter: Andrew Shanks, the Cathedral’s Canon Theologian, introduces the choir and explains that the evening will be a retelling of the 18th and 19th century art form of the literary sermon. Oh dear – I know nothing about the literary sermon and am really worried about the whole event being lost on me!
The choir’s beautiful voices echoing around the church go some way towards relieving my apprehension (well, it’s either that or my amusement at the look of absolute concentration that one tiny child-chorister is giving), but I am still nervous as Ali Smith steps up to the mic.
My worry, however, immediately disappears when she launches straight into a quote from of one of my favourite poems: A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy’s Day, Being the Shortest Day by John Donne – as an English student, I now feel at home! The sermon is a literary geek’s dream; she repeatedly quotes from an endless source of geniuses (including Yeats, Donne and Shakespeare) and I end up playing the ‘name the book’ game, trying to recall the author of the quote before she reveals it!
Ali’s speech revolves around two dictionary definitions; the word ‘sermon’, coming from the Latin to join, and the Donne-coined word ‘rebegot’, which she defines as a joining of ‘begot’ and ‘rebirth’. She comments on the cyclic nature of humanity, the idiosyncrasies of language and society issues (including racism and sexism), all stippled with giggle-inducing anecdotes about her childhood in the Catholic church and re-readings of biblical texts (like: “when I was a child, I spake as a child […] but when I became a woman”!)
She manages to hurtle through two hours worth of material in twenty minutes, leaving the woman next to me to mouth “WOW” when the sermon finishes!
At this point Edward Stourton joins Ali to conduct a ‘chat show-like’ discussion, accompanied by questions from the audience: we are treated to her opinions on contemporary experimental fiction, Angela Carter and the writing process. She wittily sidesteps giving a direct answer to the ‘what do you think of god’ questions, only saying (poetically) “I don’t think religion ever ends […] it changes, [… but ultimately] it is about trusting the dark” and that we should take away with us the idea of human multiplicity and communality. I nod and hope that I understand!
The end applause lasts longer I have ever heard an applause to last (at least for a literary event – the Take That concert I went to might just have beaten it, but only just): the whole audience is in awe.
In the queue to get my (battered) copy of The Accidental signed, I attempt to think of an intelligent/witty observation to impress… I fail, but am still very happy that she comments on my necklace. Claim to fame: Ali Smith likes my jewellery!