DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27180#0125
CHAPTER XI
THE MUSEUM AND ART
Perhaps there really is a beautiful statue of Cheops hiding
under the little red house; or even — it lies within the realms
of possibility — a whole row of Cheops statues. And if you
swept the whole village away, a temple might come to light,
even grander than the gateway of Chefren. Then we should
have a new ruin, inviting our inspection and helping us to
trace a step or two further the development of the column
and finally solve the disputed problem of the fluting; and the
museum would acquire a new object, or a whole row of
new objects. As a matter of fact, there would be no room
for them in the magazine at Cairo; even as it is, the ground
floor is completely full. There is such a superfluity of even
the best things — the works of the early dynasties — that they
treat the limestone like so much common stone. Few people
guess how much there is in the six cases in the dark niches
of the first room and in the cupboards in the great corridor,
how much stands and hangs about in every nook and cranny.
Fewer still stop at the cases near the entrance, although they
are in a good light, because the colossal statues distract their
attention. In these cases there are small studies of movement
taken from servants and workmen of the early period which
weave a whole network of threads that bind their lives with
ours. In the dim corridor between the colossal statues the
net turns into an abandoned web.
The museum, or magazine, is a senseless building in the
conceited style of government buildings in large European
cities, better adapted for a bank or public-house. The in-
109
THE MUSEUM AND ART
Perhaps there really is a beautiful statue of Cheops hiding
under the little red house; or even — it lies within the realms
of possibility — a whole row of Cheops statues. And if you
swept the whole village away, a temple might come to light,
even grander than the gateway of Chefren. Then we should
have a new ruin, inviting our inspection and helping us to
trace a step or two further the development of the column
and finally solve the disputed problem of the fluting; and the
museum would acquire a new object, or a whole row of
new objects. As a matter of fact, there would be no room
for them in the magazine at Cairo; even as it is, the ground
floor is completely full. There is such a superfluity of even
the best things — the works of the early dynasties — that they
treat the limestone like so much common stone. Few people
guess how much there is in the six cases in the dark niches
of the first room and in the cupboards in the great corridor,
how much stands and hangs about in every nook and cranny.
Fewer still stop at the cases near the entrance, although they
are in a good light, because the colossal statues distract their
attention. In these cases there are small studies of movement
taken from servants and workmen of the early period which
weave a whole network of threads that bind their lives with
ours. In the dim corridor between the colossal statues the
net turns into an abandoned web.
The museum, or magazine, is a senseless building in the
conceited style of government buildings in large European
cities, better adapted for a bank or public-house. The in-
109