London is Massive

First was the Emperor Jones at the National, again. The Emperor Jones is an American play by Eugene O’Neill, concerning an African-American prison escapee named Brutus Jones who goes to an unidentified island nation, leads an uprising and becomes Emperor. All that is backstory; the story is when there’s another uprising against him. Jones has to run through the jungle to escape his pursuers, and is degraded physically and spiritually along the way until the natives (as they are called, charitably; often they are referred to as “bush niggers” by Jones) catch Jones and kill him, but not before he kills himself spiritually.

The play can be interpreted in a racist manner: on the page, Jones speaks in a stereotypically Southern black manner (all dropped g’s and ain’ts) and the way the natives are staged could be extremely insensitive and racist. This production avoided the first pitfall and I’m not sure about the second.

The actor playing Jones, Paterson Joesph (who was also in the production of Saint Joan), had wonderful physicality and strut about him that suited the role. At the same time, too, he made clear that the more stereotypically flashy aspects of his personality are a kind of a show for the benefit of others: he is clearly more clever than he lets on. So that was well done.

On the other hand, I’m not quite sure about the natives. They seemed a little too primitive, a little too earthy for the time period (1920s at least). Maybe I’m just being overly critical.

******

After the Emperor Jones, we walked across the river Thames north towards the British Museum. It is massive. Housed in a marble, neoclassical building, the Museum contains curiosities like the Rosetta Stone. It will give you an idea of the superabundance of artifacts (artefacts, as the British would have it) that, in the hour-and-a-half that I was there, I spent my entire time in one room; others in my group spent their entire times in other rooms, etc. The fruits of imperialism are varied indeed (Most are rotten, and this one is bittersweet: it is great that so much stuff is gathered in one place; rotten that so much of it taken unjustly)

The variety, in fact, of the room I was in is stunning, now that I reflect on it. The exhibit I visited was “The Enlightenment,” and its organizing principle was the Enlightenment project as relates to ancient artifacts and archaeology. The exhibit was located in King George III’s library, with most of the works of art stored in the bookshelves. This library was pimping; the ceiling was arched and high with ambient light to kill for; columns adorned the sides.

Here is how massive this exhibit was:
1) Works of art often went unexplained by plaque. In fact, it was probably more common to be unexplained than to be explained in any substantive fashion
2) Several works of art were in bookshelves placed behind columns, making them, in effect, like those poor saps in Fenway placed behind a column, unseen and unloved.

At the same time, the exhibit was extremely comprehensive, covering almost every prehistoric to ancient era in good detail. For example, I don’t believe I’ve seen a statue of Hermes before today, nor of Paris (of Troy, I mean). Nor, for that matter, have I seen indigenous Peruvian art (really cool looking). And, of course, the addition of the African bong collection was valued. I loved the look at different writing systems. And it was much appreciated to see an artifact from Darius’ time.

Like the Louvre, the British Museum also has a modern-with-ancient hybrid thing going on. And, again like the Louvre, it works quite well. The top of the foyer is domed with opaque white glass spiderwebbed with black steel, converging on a white marble cylindrical building, whose style I can only describe as modern neoclassical memorial chic. Scattered about the edges of the foyer are the more massive pieces of art: there are two totem poles that are 11 m tall (fuck if I know what that means in feet); there is a base of a column from Xerxes’ time that weighs 7 tons; there is a chipped stone lion from Knidos in Greece that weighs 4 tons. Keep in mind that this is one exhibit and the main foyer; I’ll definitely have to come back when I stay in London after the seminar.

*****

Interesting Miscellany:

First, people seen:
1) Two bicyclists on the highway
2) An Asian with a surgeon’s mouth mask (in Oxford)
3) A man in a tux walking down the street, flirting with a girl in tight jeans

Second, favorite (not favourite, spellchecker!) pub names:
1) George & Dragon
2) Cock & Camel
3) The Eagle & Child (C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein got drunk there!)

Third, favorite American-to-British translations
1) Rubbish = Trash
2) Spot in the sense of “lend” makes no sense to the British
3) Tariff is used in the sense of day-to-day costs in Britain
4) Cheers
5) Lads

Fact: All water faucets in Britain look like male genitalia.

*****

Considering how awful the Merchant of Venice production at the Globe was, I was prepared for another awful show with Love’s Labour’s Lost, with much pain caused to my ass by the seats. I was pleasantly surprised; it was entertaining (but by no means great), although my ass is sore (out of context, this sounds awful).

Love’s Labour’s Lost is a fun play because it’s structured like a classic movie romantic comedy, has a lot of banter, and a great ending. This show did a good job of bringing about every poop, fart, penis, vagina and sex joke, but was unable to bring out Berowne’s (the main character) near nihilism. Still, very enjoyable.

*****

Tomorrow and the next day are free. The plan is to go to Bath tomorrow and Cambridge on Monday.