Napoleon in Egypt: Jean-Léon Gérôme and Going Abroad

As politically-incorrect as it is, I adore 19th century Orientalism--that is, the European fascination with a Thousand Nights and One Night kind of ideal of things Middle East. In particular I like the French artist Jean-Léon Gérôme (1824-1904). Though his paintings are a "dead white man" 's idea of a different culture, I think they can teach a lot about experiencing one. Here are some of my favorite paintings of his, with what's been going through my mind lately as I prepare to leave for Japan.

Napoleon and His Staff in Egypt

In this painting Napoleon, the Emperor, the conqueror of much of Europe, is looking distinctly uncomfortable astride his camel. Hot and constricted in his uniform, unable to balance on his swaying, bad-tempered mount, his face doesn't show any fight to regain composure, only a grim determination (to not fall off?) and even a child-like anxiety about the journey ahead. The long necks of the camels draw the eye downward and left to the native North-African guide, who pauses with just the hint of a contemptuous smile under his quick brown mustache, waiting to ensure Napoleon can regain control of his camel. Napoleon is experiencing culture-shock! The confusion of a new climate, new methods of transportation, the feeling of having to blindly depend on people whose language and ways he does not understand. No wonder he doesn't have his usual self-assured conqueror look about him.

The Arab and His Steed

This painting tells a heart-rending story. The Arab, grief-stricken, cradles the head of his fallen mount, his uncomplaining companion of many years. Together they have been through countless adventures, dodging bullets, journeying for days on end across barren wastelands, lying together under a deep canopy of stars, the rider's weary head pillowed on the loyal horse's neck. Now this friend of friends is hurt and perishing. The horse's bridle has been torn off and cast aside, and the two exchange a long look. We can sense the Arab's apologetic tears, a particular sorrow anyone who has loved an animal knows. This kind of love and loss is not foreign to us Westerners, but its context and story is. We may have cried over a best cat- or dog-friend, but did that pet ever bear us unflinching through a hedge of flashing spears? The appeal in this painting lies in its romantic deviation from our own experience.

Pelt Merchant of Cairo

When I go abroad in three weeks, I expect the newness of people and things to hold me breathless. Never mind these are all the things Japanese people walk by or use or deal with every day, to me alone they possess an exciting charm. That is what art does too, it shows something we might otherwise walk right by in a way that makes us want to own such beauty, to buy it and hang it above the mantel-piece in the living room. No pelt-merchant in Cairo would want this painting. But, being quite different from a pelt-merchant in Cairo, I do! That is why tourists take such funny photos of the most mundane objects while abroad. Oh hush I know I'll do it too, and I may even take my sketch-book.

La Piscine du Harem

Let's face it, what a lot of these 19th century Orientalists liked most about their subject was the allure of the opposite sex in foreign form. To put it delicately, Charles Baudelaire definitely found cultural norms in the Middle East that fit his amorous preferences.

There are certainly things that greatly appeal to my personality about Japanese culture, where reserve and quiet are virtues, where people don't have to touch to greet each other, where human relationships (ideally) take precedence over individualist ambitions. There are also things I don't like: the way men are controlling and paternal with women, the way foreigners are treated, the way work is often expected to trump family (extensions, ironically, of that collectivist ideal I like!). I'm sure this list of likes and dislikes about Japan will be much longer once I experience living there. For now I know the likes outweigh the dislikes, and that I feel at home in the bits of the culture I have experienced.

Solitude

I've been told I will feel a new kind of loneliness while abroad. This I am a little afraid of. The loneliness I have experienced hasn't made me do anything worse than spend inordinate amounts of time on Facebook, sing by myself, or get misty-eyed over (yet another) meal eaten alone. But who knows how I will take the loneliness of being in a foreign country where no one seems to live or relate to each other in the ways I'm used to. Thanks to modern technology, however, that feeling of separation from others is much easier to assuage. Add me on Skype!

Japanese Imploring a Deity

My faith is very important to me. I find other peoples' faiths fascinating. But no matter where I go or however I might change, my God is with me always and sustains me in ways I don't even know or notice, whether at home or far away from "everything dear and familiar." This is no golden statue speaking, folks:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

(Psalm 139:7-10)

(By the way, as corny as "Deity" is, I just love Gérôme's creation of space in it!)

So, I just want to be open, at peace no matter the situation, free to enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience for all I'm worth!

Whirling Dervishes