Through the centre of the world
Lately, I've been thinking quite a bit about our trip overseas. It's a little easier now, to think about things, now that some time has passed. During the visit, it was hard to reflect on what we were doing--which was fine, since we were having so much fun--but now I can write about the experience with more perspective.
In particular, I've been thinking about the Mapparium. I read about the Mapparium in a guide book, and was really keen to see it. It is the brainchild of Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of the Christian Science Church, and is housed in the Mary Baker Eddy Library on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston. We went there with Heather’s friend Alan. As a Boston resident and former tour guide, he was a great help in the city, and he kindly offered to show us around.
The oddly-named Mapparium is a large replica of the globe. Built in 1935, it was modelled on the then-current Rand McNally globe, and so grows increasingly outdated as time passes. This is part of its appeal. It is made of 608 panes of stained glass, with land in reds, yellows, and greens, and the oceans in various blues. The colours are stunning. It is thirty feet wide, and is bisected by a clear glass bridge that cuts through the centre of the world.
In the late afternoon, we escaped a cold and bleak Boston day for a guided tour of the globe. From a small foyer, we followed a guide who opened a door into the inside of the world. She took us to the centre of the bridge and told us about the history of the Mapparium. She talked about the globe depicting “a world fixed in time”, and talked about how the world is constantly changing.
The Mapparium has some unique auditory quirks as a result of its design. If you stand alone at the centre of the walkway—effectively, at the centre of the Earth—and whisper as quietly as you can, the sound bounces, curves, richochets back directly into your own ear, as if you were whispering to yourself—or as if God were talking to you. If two people stand at opposite ends of the bridge and whisper very quietly, the sound moves in a different pattern and sends the whispers directly into the ear of the other person. Although they are split by a distance of 30 feet, the whisperers can hear each other with absolute clarity—yet others nearby can hear nothing.
At the end of the demonstration, Alan, Heather and I took turns standing in different places and testing out this bizarre effect. It was intoxicating, somehow—we all felt giddy with it, like schoolchildren. Right at the end, Alan stood at the centre of the world, whispering to himself. Heather and I stood at opposite ends of the earth and privately whispered into each other's ears. What did we tell each other? The most obvious thing, the only thing, the thing that would have been whispered in our places before us by thousands of voices, in thousands of languages: I love you. And it felt like new.
In particular, I've been thinking about the Mapparium. I read about the Mapparium in a guide book, and was really keen to see it. It is the brainchild of Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of the Christian Science Church, and is housed in the Mary Baker Eddy Library on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston. We went there with Heather’s friend Alan. As a Boston resident and former tour guide, he was a great help in the city, and he kindly offered to show us around.
The oddly-named Mapparium is a large replica of the globe. Built in 1935, it was modelled on the then-current Rand McNally globe, and so grows increasingly outdated as time passes. This is part of its appeal. It is made of 608 panes of stained glass, with land in reds, yellows, and greens, and the oceans in various blues. The colours are stunning. It is thirty feet wide, and is bisected by a clear glass bridge that cuts through the centre of the world.
In the late afternoon, we escaped a cold and bleak Boston day for a guided tour of the globe. From a small foyer, we followed a guide who opened a door into the inside of the world. She took us to the centre of the bridge and told us about the history of the Mapparium. She talked about the globe depicting “a world fixed in time”, and talked about how the world is constantly changing.
The Mapparium has some unique auditory quirks as a result of its design. If you stand alone at the centre of the walkway—effectively, at the centre of the Earth—and whisper as quietly as you can, the sound bounces, curves, richochets back directly into your own ear, as if you were whispering to yourself—or as if God were talking to you. If two people stand at opposite ends of the bridge and whisper very quietly, the sound moves in a different pattern and sends the whispers directly into the ear of the other person. Although they are split by a distance of 30 feet, the whisperers can hear each other with absolute clarity—yet others nearby can hear nothing.
At the end of the demonstration, Alan, Heather and I took turns standing in different places and testing out this bizarre effect. It was intoxicating, somehow—we all felt giddy with it, like schoolchildren. Right at the end, Alan stood at the centre of the world, whispering to himself. Heather and I stood at opposite ends of the earth and privately whispered into each other's ears. What did we tell each other? The most obvious thing, the only thing, the thing that would have been whispered in our places before us by thousands of voices, in thousands of languages: I love you. And it felt like new.
posted by Michelle | 9:29 pm
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