ABSTRACT
The importance and interest of the vita of Christina of Markyate written by an anonymous monk of St Albans has long been recognized by historians of spirituality, but students of the literature produced in early post-Conquest England have in general not given it the same attention.1 It presents considerable problems,2 but it also has some fascinating links with the literary traditions of the past and the future, and with the various literary genres of its own period. One of its most interesting features is the way in which it seems to be placed on the edges of a number of these, and to derive not only its individuality but also some of its power from its ‘marginal’ position. It is a spiritual biography, but similar to a saint’s life; it is almost an autobiography based on the reminiscences of Christina (who was, perhaps, as Christopher Brooke remarked, ‘given to romancing’);3 indeed, it sometimes also reads like a romance. The monk knew his religious books, but probably, as C. H. Talbot said, ‘was conscious also that here was a story to which pure imaginative romance, whether courtly or popular, could offer little competition.’4 It is, above all, an impressive literary work in its own right. Whatever we think of the questions of ‘romancing’ and veracity, there is no doubt that the story is an excellent example of narrative art. It is vivid and exciting, both as the story of a twelfthcentury girl’s tribulations and adventures, and as a spiritual odyssey in which the supernatural, marvels and visions are prominent. The spiritual and the human world overlap and are interfused: this is evident in some characteristic expressions of homely piety, as when the child Christina talks to Christ on her bed at night ‘just as if she were speaking to a man she could see; and this she did with a loud clear voice, so that all who were resting in the same house could hear and understand her’ (Life, p. 37).
