An Arundel Tomb
By Philip Larkin
Written By PKG SIR
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The stone figures of the earl and countess lie side by side, their faces worn and blurred by time. Their medieval attire has also been sculpted in stone: the earl is shown wearing armor, while the countess is portrayed in a rigid, formal dress. Two small stone dogs rest at their feet, adding a touch of gentleness to the otherwise solemn scene.
The monument itself is rather simple, which is understandable since it was carved before the 17th century—long before the ornamental Baroque era of art and architecture. At first glance, there seems to be little remarkable about the tomb, until one notices a small but striking detail: the earl holds his empty left-hand glove in his right hand. Then, in a surprising yet tender gesture, his free hand is shown clasping that of his wife.
The earl and countess could never have imagined that they would lie like this for so many centuries. The sculptor probably included the hand-holding gesture merely to please them or to impress their friends—a decorative touch without deep intention—while fulfilling his commission to preserve their names, which are inscribed in Latin on the tomb.
They could not have foreseen how soon after their effigies were placed in the cathedral, the passage of time and the elements would begin to wear them away. Nor could they guess how quickly people would stop paying them any real attention, merely glancing at the figures rather than pausing to read the carved inscription.
Still, the stone couple has remained motionless through the long flow of centuries. Winters have brought snow, and every summer sunlight has filtered through the stained-glass windows. Birds have continued to sing outside in the churchyard. Over the years, countless visitors have walked by the tomb as the world outside changed completely. Like waves wearing down the shore, time and history have gradually eroded the earl and countess’s individuality.
Now, in this modern age far removed from the days of chivalry and armor, the earl and countess are powerless and forgotten. Smoke drifts above their resting place—their small remnant of history. What remains of them is no longer their true selves, but only an idea that represents the continuity of life.
Time has reshaped their image, giving it meanings that were never intended. The sense of devotion and unity suggested by their joined hands—once a minor artistic detail—has become their lasting message to the world. It almost seems to confirm something deeply human and universal: the comforting belief that love endures beyond death.
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