An Ozymandias Moment
If some of my friends were members of the mafia rather than authors, I suspect I would end up playing the role of their consigliere. Of course it would be a consigliere in the Tom Hagen rather than the Silvio Dante mould. It has to be said, I am a lot better at wise counsel than executions.
While the prospect of a Collins crime family is thankfully remote, I often seem to end up handing out consilium to one of the big bosses of historical mystery. The twenty-two years I have known Andrew Collins have involved me following him into a serious of surreal scrapes and adventures. If I got an email from him tomorrow reading: ‘I have found the lost city of Irem and accidentally been heralded as Sheikh of the Tribe of a 1,000 Pillars. I seem to have kicked off an armed insurrection against Sultan of Oman's Armed Forces. Any thoughts on how to handle the press?’ I would not be surprised.
It was thanks to following the strange wake of Andy Collins and trying to provide advice that tonight, my Lady Love and I ended up enjoying Châteauneuf-du-Pape and crab mousse canapés in the Egyptian sculpture room of the British Museum. Trying hard not to spill wine or crumbs on the Statue Of Sacred Boat Of Mutemuia or lean too noticeably against Shabaka Stone, we were in the front line of the ambassadorial speeches and pomp put on for Dr. Zahi Hawass. However, it was not the speeches or notable guests that awed, but the ghosts of a culture existing outside of their time thanks to their possession of granite, gneiss and grandiorite
The weight of history in Egyptian sculpture room alone is immense. The temporal power of the pharaonic age relics forces you to confront the idea that any remains of 21st century England uncovered 30 centuries hence will cast much weaker shadows. It should be impossible for anyone to give a speech from below the colossal fragment of the bust Ramesses II without having an Ozymandias moment.
One thing I found myself in agreement with Dr. Hawass on during his speech was the untenable position of the Rosetta Stone. When the British ran wild, looting the world for their tawdry gratification, some of the globe’s most significant treasures ended up at the British Museum. The idea of wholesale repatriation by the Grand Dame of Great Russell Street of every iconic item from its collection remains unconvincing when it comes up against the primacy of ensuring such glorious survivors of the past remain safe and accessible. However, the Rosetta Stone should at the very least be time-shared between Egypt and the British Museum. The fact that it is not slurs not only Egypt’s ability to be a guardian of its past, but provides a violently stark reminder that Brits of Empire were amongst the worst thieving bastards ever seen.
While the prospect of a Collins crime family is thankfully remote, I often seem to end up handing out consilium to one of the big bosses of historical mystery. The twenty-two years I have known Andrew Collins have involved me following him into a serious of surreal scrapes and adventures. If I got an email from him tomorrow reading: ‘I have found the lost city of Irem and accidentally been heralded as Sheikh of the Tribe of a 1,000 Pillars. I seem to have kicked off an armed insurrection against Sultan of Oman's Armed Forces. Any thoughts on how to handle the press?’ I would not be surprised.
It was thanks to following the strange wake of Andy Collins and trying to provide advice that tonight, my Lady Love and I ended up enjoying Châteauneuf-du-Pape and crab mousse canapés in the Egyptian sculpture room of the British Museum. Trying hard not to spill wine or crumbs on the Statue Of Sacred Boat Of Mutemuia or lean too noticeably against Shabaka Stone, we were in the front line of the ambassadorial speeches and pomp put on for Dr. Zahi Hawass. However, it was not the speeches or notable guests that awed, but the ghosts of a culture existing outside of their time thanks to their possession of granite, gneiss and grandiorite
The weight of history in Egyptian sculpture room alone is immense. The temporal power of the pharaonic age relics forces you to confront the idea that any remains of 21st century England uncovered 30 centuries hence will cast much weaker shadows. It should be impossible for anyone to give a speech from below the colossal fragment of the bust Ramesses II without having an Ozymandias moment.
One thing I found myself in agreement with Dr. Hawass on during his speech was the untenable position of the Rosetta Stone. When the British ran wild, looting the world for their tawdry gratification, some of the globe’s most significant treasures ended up at the British Museum. The idea of wholesale repatriation by the Grand Dame of Great Russell Street of every iconic item from its collection remains unconvincing when it comes up against the primacy of ensuring such glorious survivors of the past remain safe and accessible. However, the Rosetta Stone should at the very least be time-shared between Egypt and the British Museum. The fact that it is not slurs not only Egypt’s ability to be a guardian of its past, but provides a violently stark reminder that Brits of Empire were amongst the worst thieving bastards ever seen.
Labels: Andrew Collins, British Museum, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Egypt
posted by David at
11:41 PM
6 Comments:
A timely post. The BBC were claiming earlier this week that 6m people a year see the Rosetta Stone which, if you do the maths, comes out at around 2,000 people an hour! Of course it should go back.
I am selfishly conflicted. I have visited the British Museum two times in my life, and have loved every second of my oh-so-short visits. The Egyptian Room is a favourite. One of my treasured photos is that of my then 15 year-old daughter - slight of frame and with her thoughtful, dark eyes - pondering a piece of statuary and unaware of my camera.
Were these treasures sent to their homeland, it's certain that the likes of my daughter and I would never see them. However, the moral imperative says the Rosetta Stone belongs elsewhere. Perhaps a sharing arrangement would make the best sense, no?
Like with the Stone of Scone...some bastard should re appropriate the Rosetta stone to Egypt...Now that's be something....
Things of relevance to any culture should be part of that culture's heritage...without exception...unless they are satisfied accepting rent from the brits and germans etc for the stolen treasures.
I personally would like to see a treasure timeshare arrangement where the Rosetta Stone spends a year in Egypt then a year on tour – including a six-month residence at the British Museum. However, when Dr. Hawass joked: “I have come with a really big, really secure bag – perfect for taking heavy things home…” I knew that no-one in the room would have had the moral authority to stop him if he had tried a bit of improvised repatriation.
The sons of Empire went to antique lands
To spread the news of cricket, tea and trade;
They preached the word of England, undismayed
By jungles, swamps or endless desert sands.
And if - as quid pro quo, one understands -
Some artefacts an ancient race once made,
Or trinkets that for centuries had laid
Forgotten in the earth passed through their hands,
What then? These were but recompense for toil,
All fairly won - not plunder, loot or spoil.
And if their makers' children's hearts do burn
To see these natives treasures' safe return,
They dream in vain. But come to Russell Square:
Gaze on our acquisitions - and despair.
I say, possession is nine-tenths of the law. I think joint custody would just irritate both parties more than one-sided custody would. I would get as much analysis done on it, take molds and scans of it in as much detail as possible, then hand it back to Egypt. After it's destroyed or stolen there, we could simply shrug and say that they insisted it be so.
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