From its title I imagined this book would include the governance of India as represented in Sheridan’s plays. Politics and the arts. For war there was Jane Austen, and the army and naval officers who weave in and out of her novels. Not so. Art here does not mean literature but paintings, monuments, archaeology and architecture.
The introduction begins with Abu Taleb, a Shi’ite Indo-Persian scholar who arrived in London at the end of the 18th century. Taleb, mentioned twice later, is feted by learned society but never feels assimilated. He acts (like the reader) as a slightly bemused observer to the period but what little is gained from his presence is poor compensation for a lost opportunity to clarify exactly what is to be covered, particularly as the rest of the introduction is quite academic.
We already have a preface and an introduction, now there is a prelude. Crowds are gathering for the coronation at Westminster Abbey in 1761 of George III, those with money (but not the right connections to get inside) hiring vantage points along the procession route. The Seven Years War is not yet over but Britain has enjoyed spectacular successes and this imperial glory is reflected in the pageantry. Politics, war and art combine – now we have direction.
The body of the book has three main sections: war, art and commemoration; empire, archaeology and collecting; and capital of culture. War, art and commemoration is divided in two: the first part discussing the loss of America and, in particular, the response of American artists living in England, the second part showing how a new “pantheon of heroes” was created at Saint Paul’s Cathedral. Empire, archaeology and collecting is also in two halves: the first focusing on the rivalry between Britain and, especially, Napoleonic France in the scramble for overseas archaeological treasure, the second an account of how Indian monuments were collected and preserved. Capital of culture concerns how George IV attempted to make London a city to architecturally rival Paris.
Holger Hoock has chosen dramatic and controversial events and describes them well. An example is the monument in New York to George III, resented by patriots but at which American (ie British) loyalists would gather to assert their affiliation to the Crown. The statue was torn down and the head paraded at anti-British demonstrations. The Loyalists, however, managed to recover the head. No sighting of the head has been seen since that time. And the furore at Westminster Abbey over the practice of allowing the mediocre but wealthy to buy space for their memorials while those with a more genuine claim to be heroes were often excluded.
A desire to acquire and display artefacts from the classical world began with scholars but developed into a desire by the British public to see the wonders of Ancient Egypt and Greece. Justification for their removal in the first place seemed to be a combination of finders keepers, getting in ahead of the French, having the proper official documents, a belief in Britain’s ability to appreciate and maintain the items and a corresponding belief that the locals had no such appreciation.
India was significantly different, partly because Britain was (virtually) the only European power present. Indian artefacts were also not considered to have the same cultural value. This resulted in less scholarly competition – indeed there was (limited) co-operation and a “cosmopolitan republic of letters” including evidence of local involvement.
Whether all these accounts add up to a coherent whole, though, I am not sure. The book ends with both an epilogue and a conclusion – a further sign that Hooch includes too much. War, art, and commemoration alone could supply enough material. JMW Turner (1759-1851) – arguably Britain’s greatest artist – is omitted. What was his reaction to war? No comment, but there could have been if less had been covered in breadth and more had been covered in depth. And what about Jane Austen?
