There are certain books that have had me taking diversions to seek out evocative places or neighbourhoods. A beer in the Oxford Bar in Edinburgh’s new town in honour of John Rebus, for example, or a diversion in Barcelona in pursuit of Julian Carax.
There’s only one book, however, on which a holiday itinerary has been based: Labyrinth, Kate Mosse’s evocative and exciting time-bending historical novel in which a 20th Century archaeological discovery is linked to a 13th Century war.
Labyrinth kindled an enduring interest in the Cathar heresy, which challenged the conventional thinking of the Catholic Church in southern Europe in the 12th to 14th Centuries.
The medieval fortress city of Carcassonne was a stronghold of the Cathars. In 1209 the Albigensian crusade of the established Church set out to retake it and a bloody and cruel siege and subjugation followed. The historical elements of Labyrinth begin in July of that year when a young herbalist, Alais, is given a book by her father who tells her it contains the secret of the Holy Grail. In parallel, 800 years in the future, young archaeologist Alice Tanner discovers two skeletons and a strange labyrinth symbol in a Pyrenean cave.
So begins an adventure for both women as they seek to illuminate their mysteries. It’s a great story and brilliantly told with pace and tension and two heroines for the ages: brave, curious and resourceful. But what really grabbed me was the atmospheric settings. Mosse brings to life the desperation, danger and resilience of a city under siege but also the essential mystery of the Pyrenees, an ancient frontier, hiding place and natural reserve.
So in 2017, by which time I’d already visited Carcassonne on a couple of occasions and spent time in the Pyrenees, my son and I set out in search of the Cathars and Labyrinth.
After a night in Catalonia, our first stop was the Chateau de Peyrepertuse (left) a ruined fortress in the Aude which sits 800m up on a limestone ridge commanding magnificent views of the Pyrenees. We climbed to the castle through the woods below and got a pretty good idea of why this and other Cathar castles were called unassailable. There are few better places to imagine the Cathar age.
From Peyrepertuse the next stop was Montaillou, about 90km to the east just over the border in the Ariege. Montaillou is another Cathar village, made famous by the eponymous history written in the 1970s by Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie. This history creatively narrates the social, economic and beliefs of the people around the turn of the 14th Century. Just outside the modern village sits the old chateau and with it evidence of the history Ladurie details. This is another remote, isolated place and speaks loudly to the zeal and paranoia necessary to want to suppress religious belief and practice in such a community. I found it very moving.
And from Montaillou to dinner in Carcassonne. The ancient citadel, sat on the outskirts of a largely unlovely modern city, is best seen from the outside where its towers and walls offer views from every side. It’s a truly impressive sight. Inside, less so, as it’s crowded with tourist attractions, but nonetheless there are quiet corners where it is possible to conjure up the ghost of Alais. And if you can find a place to sit and eat outside with a good view of the walls and a bottle of Languedoc red, well, there aren’t many better spots.
Our final stop, the following day was beautiful Albi, the city of Toulouse-Lautrec and the source of the name of the Albigensian Crusade. The lasting impact of the Cathars there is the commanding 13th Century fortress Cathedral, built to demonstrate Catholic dominance. In there, after another fabulous dinner, we met a couple of Belorussian nuns from whom we bought Christmas tree decorations, which was a bold sales pitch on a sweltering August night.
The power of great historical novels is to bring to life the sights, sounds, smells and other sensations of a place at a particular moment in time. Kate Mosse does that consistently and powerfully throughout her Languedoc trilogy, of which Labyrinth is the opening volume. In particular she evokes the sixth sense, and that feeling that ghosts and history are near if just out of reach. It’s a great gift and one for which I am profoundly grateful.