Rat, Rabbit, YSL Sale [Source]

Reading W.G. Sebald's The Rings of Saturn just the other day, I came upon the author's account of an episode in the Opium War of 1860, when British and French soldiers, bivouacked in Peking while awaiting the surrender of the Chinese Emperor (who had decamped hastily from the city with his court) discovered the magic garden of Yuan Ming Yuan "with its countless palaces, pavilions, covered walks, fantastic arbours, temples and towers [o]n the slopes of man-made mountains, between banks and spinneys [where] deer with fabulous antlers grazed and the whole incomprehensble glory of Nature and of the wonders placed in it by the hand of man was reflected in dark unruffled waters."

Sebald suggests that the impatience of the soldiers waiting for capitulation played a part in the subsequent destruction of Yuan Ming Yuan, but he also notes that the "earthly paradise -- which immediately annihilated any notion of the Chinese as an inferior and uncivilized race -- was an irresistible provocation in the eyes of soldiers who, a world away from their homeland, knew nothing but the rule of force, privation, and the abnegation of their own desires."  And so, in a "mockery of military discipline" they proceeded to loot and pillage and lay waste.

The booty -- ornaments and precious items of gold, silver, and jade jewelry left behind by the fleeing court -- was auctioned off in the British camp, after which the "summerhouses, hunting lodges and sacred places in the extensive gardens and neighbouring palace precincts, more than two hundred in number, were then burnt to the ground."  The structures, mostly of cedarwood, burst into flames in breathtaking fashion, according to eye-witnesses.  Soon after, the Emperor "felt obliged to sign without further ado the oft-deferred Treaty of Tientsin."

How surprised I was then, to discover relics of Yuan Ming Yuan, zodiacal bronze fountain heads, being offered in the monumental sale of the collection of the late Yves Saint-Laurent -- the collection, that is, that he had created with his partner Pierre Bergé -- which was just auctioned off in Paris.  Understandably, the Chinese government protested the sale of the rat and rabbit, which sold to an anonymous buyer.

Of course I know you are as relieved as I am at the auction results.  True, some people felt that in this time of financial and  economic uncertainty, Christies was taking a risk, but it seems to have been worth the effort.  $484 million does certainly suggest a healthy appetite for beautiful things, which we should all find reassuring.

Speaking of the collection [Source], Bergé recalled the influences of other collectors' taste and choices, including that of Vicomtesse Marie-Laure de Noailles who Bergé, 78, visited in his early 20s and was struck at the time by what he called the "audacity of the mix" in her collection:   

"Memories of an Edward Burne-Jones tapestry at the top of the grand staircase at the de Noailles residence translates in the YSL apartment as a Burne-Jones "Adoration of the Magi," executed in 1904, its fiery, russet Pre-Raphaelite colors burning brightly in the light and airy library downstairs." 

And there you are: in the same year, in 1904, the English painter Burne-Jones paints an Adoration, and Deng Xiaoping, China's leader (1975-1997) during so many of those years in which Yves Saint-Laurent was collecting and enjoying his brilliant career, is born.  And then years after that, it all comes together again. 

"I love The Rings of Saturn," writes my dear friend Justin. when I relate all these convergences.  "Sebald puts May of Teck, dressed in deep mourning, on the very last page."

You see?  I rest my case.