In “Un Pèlerin d’Angkor,” which for the sake of its wonderful
descriptions of tropical scenery is to me one of Pierre Loti’s most
charming books, he tells us how when he was a little child he was held
in chains by the idea of the mysterious temples hidden away, forgotten,
buried in the teeming jungles of Cambodia, and how at last his dream was
realized in that long pilgrimage up the Mekong river of which his poetic
descriptions, carrying us with a magician’s wand into the mysterious
silences of tropical forests, are tinged with that melancholy which
seems inseparable from his genius, even when he calls up the happiness
of reaching the long-wished for goal of a cherished ambition. I once
asked him why he was so pessimistic—why that persistent note of sadness?
He answered very simply, “La vie est triste,” and his eyes had that far
away, yearning look, a characteristic of his, which seems so strange in a
man whose life has been one long chain of brilliant successes.
Well! I too, as a child, had dreams which carried me far away. A kind
aunt had given me a set of so-called rice-paper pictures of lovely
imperial ladies with architectural structures of hair on their heads,
gentlemen clad in purple silk robes with ephods embroidered with
five-clawed golden dragons, drawings of vividly-coloured flowers and
fruit, of horror-striking tortures, unheard of out of Tartarus, being
inflicted upon bleeding criminals. But beyond all was the story of
Aladdin falling in love with the Princess Badroulbadour on her way to the
bath at Peking. My young brain was aflame with the longing to go to China
and see all these things. How to manage it? Should I ever get nearer to
that land of wonders than a certain fascinating curiosity shop in Hanway
Yard—now Hanway Street—a beloved and much-haunted place full of bowls
and jars, eggshell china, rosebacked plates and lange Elizen, which now
would fetch several pounds for every shilling that they cost then. That
dream never left me. It haunted my boyhood and my young manhood and, like
Pierre Loti’s cherished dream, it came into life at last.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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