In To the Island of Tides , Alistair Moffat travels to - and through the history of - the fated island of Lindisfarne. Known by the Romans as Insula Medicata and famous for its monastery, it even survived Viking raids. Today the isle maintains its position as a space for retreat and spiritual renewal.
Walking from his home in the Borders, through the historical landscape of Scotland and northern England, Moffat takes us on a pilgrimage in the footsteps of saints and scholars, before arriving for a secular retreat on the Holy Isle. To the Island of Tides is a walk through history, a meditation on the power of place, but also a more personal journey; and a reflection on where life leads us.
Alistair Moffat is an award winning writer, historian and former Director of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and Director of Programmes at Scottish Television.
Moffat was educated at the University of St Andrews, graduating in 1972 with a degree in Medieval History. He is the founder of the Borders Book Festival and Co-Chairman of The Great Tapestry of Scotland.
More than a bit disappointing. I normally love this book genre - the mixture of history, personal memoir and landscape/nature writing. Plus I live in the north of England and have visited Lindisfarne many times. I was interested in learning more about the life and times of St Cuthbert as the author proceeded on his journey. However, the book just didn't work for me somehow. There was a lot of repetition and also some irritating basic geographical errors (Ripon is NOT in West Yorkshire for example) that should never have got through. The personal sections felt forced, almost like add-ons to the journey. We have several hints of a bit of a 'dark past' that he is ruefully dwelling on but is never explained. I've read reviews that say how honest the author is and yet I find these tantalising hints anything but 'honest'! And despite the scenic nature of the walk there wasn't a single drawing, photograph or illustration of any sort. I've read one other Moffat book and gave it 2 stars, so I think I'll give up on him now!
It's a crossover between a travelogue, a memoir and a biography of St. Cuthbert. Not religious myself and in the same age group as the author, I liked his ruminations on how to best live the last decade(s) of your life and prepare for death. But the book gives also an interesting glimpse into the life of St. Cuthbert and into the history of the Kingdom of Northumbria and the Borders in the 7th century. It has the same engaging writing style of his other books and really shouldn't be missed.
I can strongly recommend the audiobook read by David Rintoul. I wished NAXOS or Audible would publish all Alistair Moffat's older books, or at least The Hidden Way, in audio format as well, preferably read by David Rintoul (or some of the other excellent narrators with Scotts accents, or narrators that know how to pronounce Gaelic words and phrases).
I visited Lindisfarne on pilgrimage over forty years ago with a small group of students from Durham University.We began our journey at the shrine of St Cuthbert in Durhams great Gothic Cathedral and then hiked-in stages-to what was known as Holy Island.At the time,I was on a search for much a deeper faith-armed mostly with hope,and a large,unwieldy rucksack!As such,this account,written by the Scots journalist and writer,Alistair Moffat,brings back memories for me,as he relates his own journey in search of St Cuthberts legacy. I will admit that I had expected that he would write in a "TV documentary" style which would focus on the stunning landscape and history of the area and add a few 'non-commital'comments-distanced as far as possible from religion-possibly with a smigeon of modern political comment thrown in for good measure-but the author,while not claiming to have any definite faith,nevertheless goes much deeper,sharing his own soul with the reader.We learn what matters to him-his hopes and dreams,meaningful events and people from his childhood and family life;we learn what has caused him joy and what has caused him great grief and pain.In the words of one of my favourite spiritual authors,Father Timothy Gallagher,we are on"Holy Ground"as we accompany him on his own Pilgrimage-No doubt St Cuthbert was smiling!
A warning to anyone considering this: it is not a historical text, it is not any kind of resource on Cuthbert or Holy Island, and is in fact barely even a walk. It’s about 20% brief references to short walks and smatterings of Cuthbert stuff, and 80% ramblings from someone so out of touch that he complains about ‘dwindling funds’ and ‘having no money’ only pages after talking about his 80 acre estate (which he thinks is small!) and 15 horses. If that’s what you want, that’s cool - but it’s certainly not the book that was marketed on the dust jacket!
Most annoyingly, my man doesn’t even follow Cuthbert’s journey. He flits about to different destinations, goes back to his lovely farmhouse where he locks all the doors in case a homeless bloke ‘tries to find shelter(!)’ pops back up in the car, doesn’t reach Holy Island until 160 pages in to a 300 page book, apparently manages to stay for four days but does such little worthy of note that he would rather tell us his weird encounters where he basically harasses a woman until she flees from the island where she was sat by herself ‘because she was pretty and he couldn’t resist talking to her,’ and where he vocally complains about the food, the priory, and the fact that the castle closes at 5 so that the minimum wage workers aren’t TRAPPED ON AN ISLAND ALL NIGHT. Most museums close at 5 Alistair! You are a historian and you don’t know what time museums close! I’m not sure why you’re publishing that in a book! Kind of undermines your authority!
I’m a Northumbrian. Tourists are a part of my everyday life. I can tell you right now that THIS is the kind of tourist I dread the most: oldish middle-to-upper class walkers decked out in expensive gear who, for some strange fucking reason, see the locals as quaint little attractions to play with and chat to about ‘their experience’ and expect hand and foot service from what is effectively a village old man’s pub, where nothing is good enough for them because they think these locations exist *for* them, rather than *around* them.
I’m not sure why Moffat’s editors were totally fine with letting him release a book that presents him as an odious self important boomer, but I’m sure there’s a reason. Maybe they got so tired of reading Some Guy’s diary that they just signed it off and moved on. I’m a particular fan of the bit where he admits to not knowing what a Geordie accent sounds like, which should have been red penned into oblivion.
There is, however, something a little compelling about experiencing a man forgetting his working class roots so completely, and with such little introspection, that he feels he is still able to claim kinship with the working classes by name dropping council estates. It’s the ultimate, immortal tragedy: wealth corrupts.
Having just returned from a week in the Scottish Borders and ending with a trip to Lindisfarne, this was a perfect 'end-of-summer' read for me and has made me all the more determined to (one day ) follow St Cuthbert's Way from Melrose to Holy Island. Moffat eschews this modern pilgrim's route, however, instead attempting (with mixed success!) to walk in the actual footsteps of this holy man and his self-depreciating and honest account mixes early British history, natural history, spiritual reflection and a strong sense of his (and our!) mortality. It also celebrates the power of silence and the solitary in a noisy, busy world. This really was a case of absolutely the right book at the right moment!
This book weaves an odd medley of historic, nature and biographic reading. The book is held together by the historical writing about St Cuthbert, the early christian monks who occupied Northumbria & the Borders and Lindisfarne itself. I really enjoyed this part of the book. I learned a huge amount about St Cuthberts life and I liked the little historical tangents he made when he reached a new place. Given Moffats background as an historian it is unsurprising that this aspect is good. If the book were solely a historical biopic of St Cuthbert this may be a 4 or 5 star book, given the taste of what standard it may be.
However, the book ais also filled with Moffats own journey, both through Borders land and a memoir type run through his life. I didn't enjoy these sections nearly as much. Firstly, most comparisons Moffat makes to his own life feel a bit 'stuck on' - a bit desperate to make some kind of connection, however distant. This journey doesn't feel personal. It neednt, though. I don't think it was necessary for Moffat to put some philisophical musings in the mix. They come off as shallow and, without exploring them further, they don't add to the journey itself or the readers personal journey with Moffat.
Secondly, I found much of the comparisons of St Cuthberts life with Moffats as a bit daft. The writing didn't come off as genuine either. The slight hints of boasting, or focus on what is middle class life didn't feel 'right' being compared with St Cuthberts life. The connections attempted to be made were the wrong ones.
The nature writing was in between the two other sections above in terms of standard. Metaphor and imagery weren't used to a high standard and, as mentioned in other reviews, it was often really difficult to keep up with where he was in the country and where things related to each other. Too many names and "north west, slightly to the right of this hill, and left of this hill".
Overall, I find it a real shame that Moffat didn't play to his strengths again in this book. It could've been a real treat if this was a book on the geohistory of the borders and life of St Cuthbert. Becuase the history is presented clearly and talent filled.
Such a great read -read overlooking Holy Island and finished on the Isle of Arran which definitely added to the beautiful atmospheric writing. I’m looking forward to reading more of Alistair Moffat
This book was more history and a personal memoir than I anticipated. However, I found it a refreshingly reflective read and a reminder of spiritual connections to landscape.
Alistair first explores the countryside that has been home to his family for generations. The Scottish borderlands and Northumbria were also home to legendary St Cuthbert in the 7th century and Alistair traces the saint's origin story.
He finally crosses the tidal causeway to Holy Island (Lindisfarne), visiting the sacred and historical sites linked to St Cuthbert. A life contrastingly defined by political upheaval and hermitage, Cuthbert's life is a fascinating story. His legacy provides inspiration and comfort to those visiting this unique island of reflection.
The author's prime goal in this book, which, interestingly, is not mentioned in the editorial review, was to trace the life and travels of St. Cuthbert (@635-687), the Abbot of Lindisfarne. This is a more personal book than Moffat usually writes. He has "retired" to his farm in the Scottish Borders, where he and his wife raise horses, and is grieving the death of his first grandchild, who was stillborn, as well as contemplating his own aging and health issues. While he is not a believer, he says, he has become fascinated with the life of St. Cuthbert, an early Anglo-Saxon saint and missionary, and eventual Abbbot of the monastery on the island of Lindisfarne. His own long-distance walk from his home in the Borders to Lindisfarne traces the journeys of the saint, and reluctant abbot, who wanted a solitary and extreme ascetic life devoted only to God. Moffat is a good companion on this journey, observant, informative, and insightful.
I enjoyed this, but I have reservations about it. I'm not entirely sure what those reservations are, though, and that's annoying me. On the face of it, this is an interesting intertwining of the contemporary path to acceptance of the inevitability of death with the journeys of St Cuthbert, 7th century monk of Northumberland. I really must get around to reading Bede at some point.
Got this book as I had been on a visit to holy island and wanted to know more about the islands lore. Moffat does a great job of taking us with him as he himself discovers the interesting past of Lindisfarne.
A. Moffat's (new?) formula of combining history with hiking works so well. But I'll be waiting for a booking listing all his hiking misadventures because, as his wife says, the man should not be allowed out of the house on his own!!! I definitely enjoyed The Hidden Ways more, simply because of its topic (100% Scotland) and the fact that it covered so many different historical periods. That being said this is a lovely book.
There is just one bit that irked me. In one of the last chapters, he mentions that the Lindisfarne Gospels should be returned to the island and that, since the museum was so full of things, this wouldn't hurt the income/functioning of the British Museum. Maybe, if you are gonna make a case that a certain English item should be moved back to where it came from, you can indicate that that's even more the case for all the foreign items? Rather than stating that it wouldn't endanger a Museum that needs to be very much 'endangered'.
I am of a similar vintage to the author, a year or two younger, but not much, so I identify with some of the themes running through this warm and honest book. I wondered at first whether this was going to be too personal to fully engage with, but my early reservations were soon overcome as the narrative progressed.
Alistair Moffat follows a route from Brotherstone Hill in the Scottish Borders where St Cuthbert tended sheep (possibly!!) down to Melrose and then follows the Rivers Tweed and Till into Northumberland as far as the villages of Etal and Ford before heading East towards Lindisfarne. Here he crosses the causeway on foot and spends a few days in quiet contemplation on the Island of Tides.
There is a danger of introspection with a book like this leaving the reader feeling excluded. After all there are themes here of advancing age, mortality and personal loss that are profound. That danger is avoided by the author’s wry, self-deprecating humour and by a focus on St Cuthbert, his life and journeys.
Moffat communicates a very strong sense of both place and family connection. I was reminded of the phrase ‘kith and kin’. Kin being family and kith being the place where we are from. In a super-fast, digitalised, ever more urban world, the yearning for kith and kin, for belonging, for rootedness is as strong as it has ever been. I gained the impression that the author had a strong sense of kith and kin that was deeply felt and appreciated.
There were a good many occasions when the author told us that he didn’t believe in God. However. I wonder if he doth protest too much! For whatever else this book is, it is a record of a profound spiritual experience. Perhaps it is the naming and cataloguing of such experiences that is the stumbling block.
On Holy Island, Moffat discovers that there is an 8am Communion Service in St Mary’s Parish Church each morning, the first morning he is there, he decides to join the handful of people in church, sitting at the back. The service moves him deeply and he writes, “Faith is far from simple, I suspect, but in this warmly lit little church, it seemed like both a bastion and a refuge from the tumult of the world.”
Part travelogue, part memoir, part history, I really enjoyed this book and I imagine its themes will resonate with me for a long time to come.
I really wanted to like this book. All the ingredients were there: walking through nature, history, geography, anecdote, existential reflections. In the end I found myself skimming through it. It felt very disjointed, murky, and meandering. For example it's not one epic walk but several smaller ones. I am not familiar with the countryside in this part of the world, and finish the book feeling little the wiser. Other modern pilgrims and wanderers have scribbled maps and sketches, and these would have helped to bridge the gap, but here there are none. Moffat says he tends to take hundreds of photographs, but again, they are absent. Moffat talks about his feelings for a bereavement which were relatable, easy to sympathise with, and which I respect Moffat feeling able to share, but elsewhere the feelings are vague and unspecific hints. Murmurs of frustrations and less than ideal acts, but we're left to muse on these dead ends. There were few points of connection being offered here. I think the parts I enjoyed most were the historical bits but they were erratic and broke off quickly. I'm afraid to say that for me this book had a genuinely great premise that ultimately wasn't delivered. We all, in our way, are on our own pilgrimage through life (Chaucer was right!) but there's little to take forwards here, and so it falls short of three stars.
I randomly grabbed this book from a display at Waterstones right before checkout because I’d just taken the train from Edinburgh to York and passed Lindisfarne.
And I’m so glad I did! I love books that explore the history of a specific place as well as our connection to that place - its past, present and future. Alistair Moffat blends his own life and family history with that of Cuthbert - a saint and hermit who lived in the Borders and worked on Lindisfarne in the 7th century AD. The parallels between the two men’s lives, explored as Moffat follows the very same road that Cuthbert took more than 1,300 years ago (wild!), feel incredibly real and relevant, and the author blends meaningful and moving personal stories with the rich history of viking raids, religious cults, Irish monks, and life in early Medieval Scotland and England (then the Kingdom of Northumbria).
The language is quite simple and straightforward, but full of beautiful natural details and descriptions that all serve a purpose in telling the full story of the kind of deep and significant relationship a person can have with a place which might be nothing more than a random spot on the map for someone else.
This book can definitely be enjoyed both by people who are into history and people who are into natural history - though the latter, unless already well-versed in Anglo-Saxon history, might want to look up a few facts along the way so as not to miss out on important references or misunderstand the historical context.
i was scheduled to take a Celtic Christian spirituality class on Lindisfarne this year, which was unfortunately canceled due to Covid-19. In preparation a friend recommended i read this book. It was a nice surprise to journey with Alistair as he walked in the footsteps of Cuthbert. As Moffat described the places he visited, i enjoyed looking up those landmarks online. While i haven't yet been able to visit Lindisfarne, i have a good feel for the overlay of the land and already feel familiar with this place i plan to visit in the future, especially since the B&B is holding a place for me there!
This book is an engaging mix of Celtic Christian history, geography, autobiography, and existentialism. Moffat knows his history well and is able to find himself within it, which reminds us that we too are a part of both the present and the future, which means one day we'll continue to exist as history... at least for a while.
For the most part I enjoyed this book although there is surprisingly little about the life of St Cuthbert and the actual life on Lindisfarne. It’s more about the religious cult, the art and architecture, a presentation of the monks that preceded and followed Cuthbert, the history of Scotland and the peregrinations of the coffin of the Saint before finding its final rest. I found that there is a lot of overlapping and repetition in the chapters. The historical parts were my favourites. I intend no disrespect, but the autobiographical sections were less of interest to me. Alistair Moffat seems a decent person but his anecdotes and personal reflections on old age, approaching death and the musing on meaning of life were not as interesting as other parts like the preparation and illiminations of the Gospels or the daring actions of Grace Darling in rescuing the survivors of a shipwreck. 2 1/2 stars
Having walked St. Cuthbert’s Way 2 summers ago, I was excited to read a writers account. Moffat spurned the “official route,” and set out to recreate what had been more likely the saint’s actual route from Old Melrose to Lindisfarne. The book is a mix of the author, in his seventies, negotiating the difficulties of finding, then walking the route and his own reflections on Cuthbert and what drove him at various turning points of his life. He ends the book spending several days on Lindisfarne where he had been once as a young man. Moffat, avowedly non-religious, realizes he’s is seeking a way to come to peace with death. The resolution did not strike me as particularly profound, but others might find it to be so. I see that he is a prolific author, and I may try one of his other books soon.
This is a fascinating mixture of history and archaeology relating to St Cuthbert and the intensely personal journey of the book's author, Alistair Moffat, not only in terms of his physical progress on foot to cover the same ground walked by Cuthbert but also his psychological quest to come to terms with his own mortality. The narrative inspired me to look up some of the places mentioned and make a note of them to visit in the future. I shall also look forward to reading further books by the same author, since I enjoyed both the content and the style of writing. I loved the description of herons as Presbyterian flamingoes! And in case it determines whether or not this is a good read for you, it isn't a religious book, but it does have spiritual aspects.
I particularly recommend the audiobook, read flawlessly by David Rintoul. I would gladly listen to another book narrated by him.
Reading Moffat, greatly enriched my experience of walking St Cuthbert’s Way. He brought Cuddy alive, relating his biography to his own life. He was good at asking the questions about St Cuthbert that I wanted answered. I also learnt a lot through the historical passages, getting a better sense of early British history. I particularly enjoyed Moffat’s deep connections with the local landscape and his atmospheric evocations of Lindisfarne. What let him down was the editing, the shape of the book should have been more consistent. It fluctuated between the profound and details about what he’d eaten for lunch that day. It was also not quite a travelogue, Moffat pitched up for days at a time along the way.
Well that was magnificent, a wonderfully touching meditation on death, loss, and a reason for living. I see several people pointing out factual errors, and yes, if you went in to this expecting a travelogue, that would be disappointing. However, after the first chapter or so (I listened to the audiobook) my expectations changed dramatically and I was no longer listening to a travelogue but to a memoir of sorts, as the author attempted to come to terms with his own mortality (and that of his loved ones) through a secular pilgrimage to a childhood site that had fascinated him. If you go into it looking for introspection rather than a history or travel book, I think it works so much better and it is so much more rewarding as an experience.
An interesting book that I saw in the travel section of a local bookstore. It was less about travel and more personal exploration of death/life tied to an historical exploration of St. Cuthbert through travelling, where the author uses the excuse of recreating St. Cuthbert's voyage to (and from, or back and forth to, it was a bit unclear) the island of Lindisfarne in the 600s as well as past experiences going to the island as a teenager to reflect on life. All that said, it was quite interesting, both the historical elements (in depth, engaging, funny, and with some deep contextualization of religious politics and beliefs at the time) and the personal elements (touching, raw, insightful, if somewhat saddening and overly self-reflective).
I enjoyed the meanderings of this book, and the interplay of the author travelling hand in hand with St Cuthbert, albeit somewhat metaphorically. c 13 centuries separate the two of them; and in driving rain the author retreats to a tea room for warmth and scones. St Cuthbert didn't really have that option. Nor did he have the option of driving home while his aches 'n pains subsided before coming back for another leg of his travels. The author's travails pale into insignificance as he always has a comfortable bolt hole to retreat to. I liked the interweaving threads going through the book though, but got a bit lost with some of the detail about 7th century religious politics and who all fitted in where.
I liked this book and respected his ideas on coming to terms with and preparing for his own death. It is a very small part of this book, which has some very funny accounts of trying to follow paths, but , now ay 75, I feel that I, too, should be preparing to let go. My walking days are now 10 miles maximum and not 20+, and I now have to consider having my pack carried, but I still wish to experience the joy of moving through the countryside, talking to strangers, experiencing sunrises and sunsets...I'm not giving up yet!
In many ways this book works well and Moffat does succeed in giving a real sense of the island of Lindisfarne but the reflective elements of the book where he looks back on his life and looks forward to old age don’t work. I’m not sure why they don’t work but in another review it is suggested that they seem ´forced’ and that perhaps answers the question. He writes well about the life of St Cuthbert and Moffat’s background in historical writing is evident.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Had not read any Moffat previously, found his writing clean and clear, I liked the style of combining personal memoir with the biography of St Cuthbert.
The ruminations on life and death and the various meanderings in between were all welcome. I visited some of the locations mentioned in the book on a short trip 10 years ago so having some familiarity with the area also helped.
So little time. And so much time already wasted with nothing to show for it.
I really like Moffat's writing. His "Before Scotland" is a wonderful prehistory. This latest is more personal, a pilgrimage from his home on the Boarders of Scotland to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, and an exploration of the island's history and saints, without getting too pious. A good computer map will improve the read.
This is a non-fiction account of a journey from Scotland to Lindisfarne Island in Northumberland, an ancient holy site. I did not read all of it as far too often there were repetitions and personal recollections that caused me to flip quickly through trying to get back to the main narrative. Not bad but overly long and self-indulgent in places.