The rites of A Journey To Avebury are not so much
of fertility or traded sacrifice but of the simple act of walking. Jarman
captures a sense of great place (and therefore its history) through the
measured use of a subjectivist perception of the landscape. The ritual
isn’t so much a pulp tie to the function of the stones and the fields around
them but of turning the imagery of them into a captured, fragmented memory; the
sacrifice, if any, being the slaughter of adherence to reality and the worship
of the mind’s eye and its will over all.
A Journey To Avebury ...
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