All alone on page 313 of this spectacular book, a tattered but heroic flag flies in a painting of an icy wasteland. It is a remarkable picture for two reasons: first, because it was done by the Arctic explorer Edmund Wilson in 1912, when he and Captain Scott learnt from that very flag that the Norwegian Amundsen had reached the South Pole before them; and second, because it is a hauntingly beautiful work of art.
For this collection of paintings, drawings, notebooks and diary pages of travelling action by men and women down the centuries astonishingly illustrates how talented they often were — not just in reaching (or not reaching) the South Pole, or exploring wastelands, or climbing frightful mountains, or identifying new insects and hitherto unsuspected varieties of humans, but in recording their emotions in doing so. It was not just a historical event that Wilson was commemorating that day in 1912, but a moment of tragic disappointment, and he perpetuated it in high art.
Like almost all of them, he was not a professional artist, but perhaps the intensity of the experiences these adventurers went through brought out the muse in them.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in