I'm remembering all this because today is Good Friday and that was the holiday that took us to Colmar and I got to stand in front of Matthias Grunewald's Isenheimer altarpiece with it's central panel of the crucifixion- the most graphic image of a brutalised human body in all western art.
(That is, until Mel Gibson came along)
Here's a close-up. Horrid, isn't it?
My mother didn't like it. I did. I liked it lots.
But now? But now I see it as manipulative.
Grunewald's trying to get to us. He's pushing buttons. Sex. Transgression. Guilt. Especially guilt. You did this to Jesus, Jesus did this for you: don't you think you should be feeling really bad about yourself?
(And while you're in this mood, how about giving us some money?)
You see, I've been a Christian preacher. I know how the system works.
My German is rudimentary, but doesn't Grunewald translate as Greenwood?
Mr Greenwood's crucifixion. Ha!