25 October | British Museum

I have known about the British Museum for a long time and have been looking forward to going there—it seems to be a consistent feature on the periphery of courses on postcolonial theory. I know that a more radical view of this museum is that it is basically a monument to imperialism and conquest, that it is a trophy-case of plunder from other cultures. While this is extreme (and most likely unfair—this would suggest that all the artifacts are stolen or otherwise coerced from other countries, which I would guess is not true), I was still very unsure about how I would feel about the place. After visiting twice, I am still undecided.

First, this museum goes on for miles, and has probably one of the most complete collections in the world of representative artifacts from every corner of the earth. It is stunning in its grandeur. I went for the first time with the Art History class several weeks ago, and we looked at the Elgin Marbles, which are huge carved stone tablets that were originally part of the Parthenon. Linda, the professor, explained to us that these tablets have been the source of controversy for decades: a British aristocrat bought them for a song a century ago and paid to have them shipped to back to England. Now Greece wants them back, but England won’t give them up, saying they bought them fair and square. But Greece said they were sold without permission of the government, and they never would have done so if they had known. Greece argues that the stones are part of their national heritage, England argues that more of the world will get to view and enjoy them if they stay in London. The debate still continues.

I see this type of thing no more evident than in the galleries dedicated to Egypt. There is so much stuff from Egypt here, it is unbelievable. I thought seeing the mummies and the pyramid reconstruction at the Field Museum in Chicago was incredible, but that exhibit doesn’t hold a candle to the British Museum’s collection.

One thing I will not soon forget is the photograph taken immediately after one of the sarcophaguses (sarcophagi?) was opened. It was disgusting and amazing at the same time, and probably one of those images that I won’t be able to erase from my brain. This mummy had been so well-preserved that, well, there was a lot left of her.  It looked like human soup. I could still see hair and what looked like bone matter, floating in gooey muck. Gross. But incredible. And then I thought about how that is gone now because we have to be nosy and go poking about in people’s graves to see what’s left. It’s kind of a strange concept, when you think about it.

I wandered around in this gallery for a while, and the sheer scale of things was making my imagination fire like crazy, transporting back to somewhere shadowy, thinking about when these monuments were new. I am still not sure what I feel about the debate concerning where these things belong. England, I find, is so steeped in its imperial history that to even begin to question the ethics of the decisions of the past would be to begin to dismantle much of the fabric of this country. Once it began unwinding, where would it stop? If the British Museum gave everything back, what would be left?

this is the statue thought to have inspired Shelley's "Ozymandias"

but my first instinct was this this might have been part of Shelley's thought too. look at the bottom right corner: the giant arm and fist, all that survives of a massive statue.