Theodore

theosmall

Theodore is the fictional memoirs of England's most unlikely archbishop. Saint Theodore was a homosexual Byzantine monk with heretical tendencies, and a taste for Platonic philosophy. He was born during Europe's darkest age, when the Byzantine Empire was overrun by pagan invaders, weakened by civil war, and divided by religious controversy. He sought certainty, and love, among monks, soldiers, philosophers, and barbarian horsemen. He wandered ceaselessly, fleeing war and persecution, pursuing wisdom, searching for security in a collapsing world. In the East, he saw brutality and destruction. In Constantinople, he was drawn into court intrigue. In Italy, he found love, then lonely exile. Then, almost by accident, he was given the task that changed his life. Though greatly learned and widely experienced, Theodore disliked authority, and was undermined by conflicting desires and religious doubts. Despite these obvious disqualifications, he was chosen by the Pope as Archbishop of Canterbury, and sent to England to civilise the semi-pagan Anglo-Saxons. He proved an unexpected success, and, with help from his partner Hadrian, established the Church in England in a form that has lasted, in many respects, until today. Even so, he is less well known than his ineffectual predecessor Saint Augustine, or his bitter rival, the sack-cloth politician Saint Wilfrid.

Published by Dedalus £8.99
ISBN 1 873982 49 6


The Dark Age of Sexuality
(The historical background to Theodore)

The early medieval period was not just a Dark Age in terms of historical events, but also in terms of sex and sexuality. I discovered that when I decided to write a novel based on the life of St Theodore of Tarsus, the seventh Archbishop of Canterbury. There is plenty of information about the sexual proclivities of the ancient Greeks and Romans. The Renaissance was notoriously licentious, as Chaucer and Boccaccio record. But in between, all is silence. Even a diligent researcher might conclude that sexuality disappeared with the fall of Rome, to be rediscovered only when fourteenth century scholars read about it in old books.
Of course, Augustine wrote movingly about his own sexual awakening, and showed remarkable psychological insight, even as he condemned lust as evil. But he was a late classical rather than a medieval figure, and, until much later, few followed him in analysing what the Church would rather have repressed.
When I tried to recreate Theodore’s personality in fictional form, I had little to go on but the lives of saints. Hagiographies can be unwittingly informative. St Wilfrid, for instance, sounds utterly awful, even when described by his greatest admirer. I adopted him as a villain and continued my research. To find out about Theodore, I turned to Bede, who tells an odd story about how the archbishop was appointed. An English candidate had died of the plague as soon as he arrived at Rome. The Pope, casting about for a substitute, picked Hadrian, an African monk and scholar. But Hadrian, thinking himself unworthy, refused. More candidates were proposed and rejected, until Hadrian suggested his friend Theodore, a Greek-speaking monk from the heretical eastern fringe of the Byzantine Empire, who happened to be living in Rome.
The Pope was doubtful. He wanted England firmly incorporated in the western, Latin Church, not misled by possibly unsound Greeks, however scholarly. But no more candidates were forthcoming, and England was sinking back into paganism and savagery, so the Pope agreed and appointed Theodore as archbishop. But only on one condition: Hadrian was to go with him as his assistant and advisor on Latin usage.
Several historians have pointed out that there is something unconvincing about this story. I read it again and again, wondering what reality it might conceal. Bede, an accurate and impartial historian, was careful not to say more than he meant. Eventually, I understood. Theodore and Hadrian were gay. Hadrian had refused the archbishopric, not because he was unworthy, but because he did not want to be separated from his friend and teacher Theodore. Once I realised that, I had my story. As well as retelling what we know of Theodore’s life and times, I would explore the conflict between his faith and sexuality.
My novel begins with Theodore’s youth in Tarsus, and ends with his old age in Canterbury, where he succeeded unexpectedly as archbishop, spreading Christianity and literacy, despite the machinations of St Wilfrid. On the way, he wandered the East, searching for faith, encountering various heresies, wrestling with forbidden desires, seeing war and destruction, and being drawn into Byzantine intrigue, before finding love and happiness in a monastery.
To find out more about medieval sexuality I went back to hagiographies and read between the lines. Celebrations of virtue reveal much about what must be avoided, just as monastic Rules, by listing what is forbidden, tell us what was most tempting. I concluded that medieval people were much like modern people, full of desires and fears and conflicts between the two. I hope that
Theodore is a convincing demonstration of that.
Christopher Harris, 2000