All I knew was that the hermit lived in a ‘small house’—which could cover any number of hermetic habitations. Might he be locked inside a cell, dwell in a cave warmed by wolves or bears, or crouch within a flimsy tent of goatskins like something out of a Byzantine icon?
When we arrived at a traditional wooden house and were offered (the Indologist and I) glasses of cherry brandy and comfortable chairs to sit upon, I felt a twinge of disappointment. However, looking around the room, I spotted one item of furniture that more than satisfied my expectations—a large coffin, in which the hermit slept.
During this period of enforced isolation, when we are daily obliged to confront the real or metaphorical coffin in the room, my thoughts have taken a reclusive turn once more. Choosing to withdraw from society is one thing, but having it imposed is quite another. If one were to retreat from the world voluntarily, what sort of dwelling might facilitate such a lifestyle? Might living in a purpose-built hermitage make lockdown any more palatable?
Denne historien er fra February 17, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra February 17, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Give it some stick
Galloping through the imagination, competitive hobby-horsing is a gymnastic sport on the rise in Britain, discovers Sybilla Hart
Paper escapes
Steven King selects his best travel books of 2024
For love, not money
This year may have marked the end of brag-art’, bought merely to show off one’s wealth. It’s time for a return to looking for connoisseurship, beauty and taste
Mary I: more bruised than bloody
Cast as a sanguinary tyrant, our first Queen Regnant may not deserve her brutal reputation, believes Geoffrey Munn
A love supreme
Art brought together 19th-century Norwich couple Joseph and Emily Stannard, who shared a passion for painting, but their destiny would be dramatically different
Private views
One of the best ways-often the only way-to visit the finest privately owned gardens in the country is by joining an exclusive tour. Non Morris does exactly that
Shhhhhh...
THERE is great delight to be had poring over the front pages of COUNTRY LIFE each week, dreaming of what life would be like in a Scottish castle (so reasonably priced, but do bear in mind the midges) or a townhouse in London’s Eaton Square (worth a king’s ransom, but, oh dear, the traffic) or perhaps that cottage in the Cotswolds (if you don’t mind standing next to Hollywood A-listers in the queue at Daylesford). The estate agent’s particulars will give you details of acreage, proximity to schools and railway stations, but never—no, never—an indication of noise levels.
Mission impossible
Rubble and ruin were all that remained of the early-19th-century Villa Frere and its gardens, planted by the English diplomat John Hookham Frere, until a group of dedicated volunteers came to its rescue. Josephine Tyndale-Biscoe tells the story
When a perfect storm hits
Weather, wars, elections and financial uncertainty all conspired against high-end house sales this year, but there were still some spectacular deals
Give the dog a bone
Man's best friend still needs to eat like its Lupus forebears, believes Jonathan Self, when it's not guarding food, greeting us or destroying our upholstery, of course
