"Walking on the Dead" By Olivia Skjervold

Walking on the Dead

By Olivia Skjervold

    I distinctly remember during my first month of living in York an afternoon where I bought a delicious cup of hot chocolate. I sat down on a bench in the City Centre Plaza to enjoy people watching and some live street music. Upon looking down at the stone work beneath my feet I noticed a name carved into the rock. I looked a little closer trying to distinguish the name of the patron who had donated a large enough amount of money to the the plaza to get his named carved into the rock. I discovered this “patron” had been 7 years old. This was odd, so I looked at the stone next to it, and the one next to that. I realized that nearly all of the stone blocks in the plaza were carved with names and dates, and many not exceeding the age of 17. It gradually dawned on me that the pavement of the plaza was not made possible by the donations of wealthy child philanthropists but by their tombstones.

    Take a walk to the gardens by the museum and you will admire the lovely flowers in the gardens beside the gates. You will also find, jutting out of the flower beds like avant garde sculptures, Roman coffins. Start a climb around the city walls you will find a cozy coffee shop tucked into the tower entrance. Step out on the tiny backdoor of this coffee house, you can enjoy a cup of tea on a patio that overlooks the “killing floor” of the gate, where invading armies were doused with hot oil. If you have children and fancy some fun, take a ride on an old Victorian carousel right outside the old courthouse. The site has been an age old site of entertainment for centuries since it was previously York’s designated site for public executions. From battles, to plague, to horrific murders throughout history, York as well as the rest of the United Kingdom, makes it no secret that people not only lived here, but died here too.

The killing floor and Gatehouse Coffee

    In the Midwest of the US, we have separate spaces for the living and the dead. The cemetery my grandfather is buried is a half hour drive out of town from the rural church where his funeral service took place. Even the city, where there is less space to tuck the dead away, the enormous Lakewood cemetery, is almost invisible behind its pointed black fence. Although the city cemeteries are usually surrounded by public walking spaces, the cemeteries themselves are easily and usually avoided by foot traffic. One day, a friend from high school and I thought we’d have an adventure and climbed under the fence to the Lakewood cemetery to explore the grounds. Although the cemetery was technically a public space we both felt as if we shouldn’t have been there. The cemetery in Minneapolis was a place that felt like it was supposed to be off-limits to us. I remember us brainstorming as we walked what we might say to someone if they stopped us or questioned us as to why we were in the cemetery without a funeral party. Of course, nobody questioned us. Nobody else was in that area of the cemetery except for a few landscape artists.

    The closest kind of crossover between the spaces for the living and dead I have experienced in the US was on the east coast in Virginia. While I was visiting, I went to an old church that had been famously attended by George Washington. Surrounding the the church was a small graveyard. I remember being fascinated by how old the tombstones in that graveyard were. The graves were so tightly packed together it was impossible to walk around the yard without stepping on them. I remember worrying that I was being disrespectful to the dead by climbing stepping all over the graves. I remember taking pictures of the tombstones because I thought they looked creepy and would be good material for a ghost story to tell my friends later. After snapping pictures, I felt a little guilty for treating the graveyard so much like a halloween attraction.

In the UK however, there small churchyard graveyards like the one I visited in Virginia are everywhere. In fact, spaces of death are some of the most heavily touristed parts of the the country, the torture chambers of tower hill to the Bronte parsonage. The United Kingdom is so rich with recorded history that it seems everywhere one turns an important battle took place or a famous figure once walked. Although both English and American cultures view death as a tragic and anxiety inducing topic, the historical role of death in the UK seems to play a much more visible part of everyday life than in America. Perhaps historical cartographies like the black plague has normalized into public spaces, or, simply that time itself has put enough distance between the living and dead, as the majority of publicly visible places of death in the UK are very ancient. America has also been inhabited by humans for thousands of years as well. The Midwest is the site of hundreds of ancient Native American burial mounds, however, these burial mounds are rarely acknowledged or respected. Modern Americans are likely encountering a similar number of burial sites as British civilians, but without realizing it. The UK acknowledges a longer stretch of its land’s history, meaning there is much more history for it to share.

Graveyard containing over 42,000 bodies in a small churchyard of Haworth, UK

Although throughout my travels of the US I have found plaques commemorating gruesome battle scenes or sites of death, the information for these events are usually tucked away off-site or inside visitors’ centers. It would be very rare to find the kind of crossover between death and living space that I discovered in York. I asked some of my British flatmates at breakfast this morning about what they thought about the gravestones that paved the plaza. They responded saying that they had noticed the tombstones too but hadn’t given it much thought as weird. Clearly the crossover of death and living spaces it wasn’t something they marked as out of the ordinary. To be so completely surrounded by death seemed to just be an indication of being surrounded by history.

I think it’s especially interesting to look at how this crossover manifests itself into ghost stories. Ghost stories seem to be the most popular way of coping with the realities of death and history. With so much recorded history, York is famous for being one of the most “haunted” places in England. “Haunted-ness” is a strange sort of phenomena because it acknowledges the historical reality of death but also dramatizes death in a way that is palatable, thrilling, and marketable. Nearly every pub and every cafe in York boasts about it’s “haunted” guests. To me, this begs the question: do ghost stories fictionalize death? Even cheapen it?

Sign from a “haunted” cafe in York

Death is an uncomfortable topic to talk about. Even though York doesn’t actively hide the realities of death as much as Midwest America does, my flatmate’s response to my question didn’t suggest that the prevalence of death makes death a more pleasant subject to think about. York simply seems to have normalized death in a way that it isn’t in Minnesota. Although death is an absolutely paralyzing reality to acknowledge, I think realizing some of the darker sides of the human experience is crucial to living a healthy life. Mortality is an equalizing factor across all people and understanding the shortness of life can provoke one to spend their time alive wisely. Analyzing a more normalized way displaying history and death has allowed me to rethink how we perceive our relationship to death in the US.

Relaxation Upon The Waters

  When living on campus, it is always nice to have a place to relax, whether it is a nearby cafe or a secluded area to sit and relax. Personally, I like to sit and relax or walk along the lakes on campus and I'm grateful for the fact that the university of York has them, one on each side of the campus. There's also a river not too far from campus that I can walk to whenever I feel the need to relax but don't want to be on campus.

  From where I am situated on campus, the closest body of water is the lake on west campus. Campus west lake is rather large; it stretches from Derwent College to Wentworth College and flows through the center of west campus.

(Central area of campus west lake)

Because of its location, there is a trail running along the edges as well as many places to sit and relax. A particular place that I like occupying is a seating area at Greg’s Place that juts over the central part of the lake. There's ample room to sit comfortably and read a book while observing the waterfowl that swims by. Whenever it's gloomy and raining or the middle of the night, this place feels like a secluded alcove in the middle of an open area that I can figuratively hide in and be separate from the world. A place where nothing disturbs me unless I want it to.

(Favorite spot at Greg’s Place)

Speaking of waterfowls, I have never seen so many congregated around one lake in my entire life. There are flocks of a variety of geese as well as mallards, moorhens, and more. They usually are swimming along together or lying along the lakeside and when they do, they often obstruct the trail. Campus west lake is a great place whenever I want to sit and observe the geese and ducks or if I want to walk along an established trail to relieve some stress without stepping in mud.

(Group of mallard ducks)

However, since the lake flows through the center of campus, there are plenty of people walking, sitting, and chatting along the trails and benches. The water of the lake is also not the best. With the number of waterfowl that occupy this lake, the water is often murky and gives off an unpleasant smell and the lake is not self cleaning because it's man made. Personally, the amount of traffic that surrounds the lake prevents me from using the lake as a place of relaxation often. I usually use it during the early morning or late night when there aren't a lot of people. If one does not mind the noise and traffic then it's a great place to relax, but if one does, I highly suggest the lake on East Campus.

  Since I live on campus west, it usually takes me five to ten minutes to walk to the campus east lake. It's worth the walk, however, because the lake is more off to the side of campus and not in the center.

(Overview of campus east lake)

Campus east lake is also relatively big and has waterfowl, although less than campus west lake. It is also the lake where the black swan - that the university of York is famous for having - can be seen, so if you want to catch a glimpse of the black swan, walking along the edge of campus east lake is your best bet.

(The black swan with its group)

The lake is also much cleaner so there aren’t any unpleasant odors and the water is very clear. Since the lake is off to the side, there are no established trails along the edge, meaning there are significantly fewer people walking along the lake, making it a very nice, quiet, and almost secluded area to relax. However, since there are no established trails, there are also no seating areas or benches alongside the edge of the lake to sit and relax. Campus east lake is more for walking and observing than sitting and observing unless you bring your own sitting stool or don't mind sitting on the grass. I don't mind that there aren't any benches because I like walking right along the edge of the lake and getting up close to the water. Being able to see the clarity the water has makes me feel like it's a gateway to the world underneath with how I can easily see through the water to what lies beneath, allowing me to forget my worries and stress that reality causes and delve into my creativity and imagination of developing other worlds that are not our own.

(Walking right along the edge)

It's definitely a great place for quiet contemplation and relaxation while one walks. Although, I do sometimes want to relax and get off of campus and for that, I usually go to the river.

  The river is called the River Ouse and is a twenty to thirty minute walk away from campus. There are plenty of benches to sit and relax well as a trail to walk along, though the trail does have some distance from the river. There is also a concrete path that juts out of the riverside where people can sit and fish but I use this path to walk right alongside the river. There's something different between walking along the river and walking along the lakes that I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe it's the fact that the river is not contained but rather free flowing in its sense of being, allowing deeper, more reflective thoughts to rise to the forefront of my mind. I feel like I can have deeper reflections that leads to a deeper sense of relaxation while walking along the river because the current feels like it could gather my stressful thoughts and wash them downstream, away from me. Or maybe it is the feeling of a much deeper depth to the river that makes me feel like I'm staring into the abyss.

(The concrete path alongside the river)

It is a public area so it does receive a lot of traffic where people are walking and cycling but not as much as campus west lake. There is also a bridge called the Millennium Bridge that one can cross to get to the other side and on the other side, if you follow the path, there's a park called Rowntree  Park that has a reading cafe where one can relax and read from their selection of books while getting some tea or coffee.

(Reading cafe in Rowntree Park)

I use this part of the river to relax in the afternoon after I have done some reading or studying and want to get away from campus but not too far. The area also has very few ducks and geese - unless one goes to the park - that roam around but a lot of people do bring their dogs for walks, so there are friendly creatures walking around. Overall, I personally think that the river is a great place to go whenever I want to relax and be off campus because it has both trails and benches that I can use as well as a nearby reading cafe in case I want to drink or a bite to eat.  

(View of the River Ouse from Millennium Bridge)