PYRAMID AND TEMPLE
truth was not incompatible with beauty, for he did away with
polytheism and sacred cattle, and identified himself with the
one Aton, the sun, and was the first monotheist on earth.
Since his novelty could find no setting in the ancient Thebes
with its host of temples, he built his residence at El Amarna
with the swiftness of wind. All his acts were like improvisa-
tions.
El Amarna was the only place we had experience of
before we came here. Babuschka went mad over the finds
in the Berlin Museum: the graceful coloured bust of the
queen, still more the little head of Teje, and most of all the
sculptor’s studies; and like every lover of the arts in Berlin,
I had long since kept on my writing-table a cast of the
Amenophis head, which incidentally Borchardt now thinks
is Tutchen. It didn’t answer in the long run, as the plaster
got dusty. There is no question about the things in Berlin
being the pearls of El Amarna. They are still angry about it
in Cairo, although everything has turned out for the best;
it is really a matter for congratulation, for at least they have
found a place worthy of them, where people can see them.
In the magazine at Cairo they would be lost.
Cairo has, however, got the other head from El Amarna,
of which you have scarcely any idea in Berlin, unless it is
that you overlook it among the abundance of more beautiful
and pleasant things: it is the very antithesis of grace and
refinement. It requires a certain effort, for this antithesis is
anything but pleasant. It positively twists your guts.
At the end of the corridor which runs past the four rooms
stand two fragments of colossal statues of Amenophis which,
apart from the marks of royal dignity and their dimensions,
have almost nothing in common with earlier standing-figures,
for their style departs from nature in the most wilful fashion.
It is a baroque style, highly fantastic, yet familiar to us in
spite of its extravagance; it lengthens and emaciates the faces,
deprives them of their flesh, emphasizes the cheekbones,
148
truth was not incompatible with beauty, for he did away with
polytheism and sacred cattle, and identified himself with the
one Aton, the sun, and was the first monotheist on earth.
Since his novelty could find no setting in the ancient Thebes
with its host of temples, he built his residence at El Amarna
with the swiftness of wind. All his acts were like improvisa-
tions.
El Amarna was the only place we had experience of
before we came here. Babuschka went mad over the finds
in the Berlin Museum: the graceful coloured bust of the
queen, still more the little head of Teje, and most of all the
sculptor’s studies; and like every lover of the arts in Berlin,
I had long since kept on my writing-table a cast of the
Amenophis head, which incidentally Borchardt now thinks
is Tutchen. It didn’t answer in the long run, as the plaster
got dusty. There is no question about the things in Berlin
being the pearls of El Amarna. They are still angry about it
in Cairo, although everything has turned out for the best;
it is really a matter for congratulation, for at least they have
found a place worthy of them, where people can see them.
In the magazine at Cairo they would be lost.
Cairo has, however, got the other head from El Amarna,
of which you have scarcely any idea in Berlin, unless it is
that you overlook it among the abundance of more beautiful
and pleasant things: it is the very antithesis of grace and
refinement. It requires a certain effort, for this antithesis is
anything but pleasant. It positively twists your guts.
At the end of the corridor which runs past the four rooms
stand two fragments of colossal statues of Amenophis which,
apart from the marks of royal dignity and their dimensions,
have almost nothing in common with earlier standing-figures,
for their style departs from nature in the most wilful fashion.
It is a baroque style, highly fantastic, yet familiar to us in
spite of its extravagance; it lengthens and emaciates the faces,
deprives them of their flesh, emphasizes the cheekbones,
148