Modern Rome: Washington DC

The proximity of my trips to Rome and DC can't help but cause me to compare the two, for in both its derivative architecture and legacy, Washington DC really is a modern-day Rome.

Consider: the basilica-dome sitting atop the capital rotunda that houses a Senate ruling over a Republic, one that spans a conquered continent and an unstoppable professional military; there's the giant phallic obelisk modeled on the one Caligula stole from Egypt and moved to Rome, later appropriated by the Vatican for St. Peter's Square (and this obelisk is ironically named for the President who refused to be crowned Monarch!);

and then there's the World War II Memorial, which just so nakedly appropriates the same self-aggrandizing, neo-classical imagery favored by Mussolini and Hitler; someone strangely thought the best way to honor those who battled European fascism was to mimic fascist propaganda. (The timing of the memorial's construction makes sad sense though--it was finished in '04, at a time when we cited the failure of Munich appeasement in order to justify pre-emptive "defensive" invasions and reckless military expansionism...ironically just like Hitler did...as did ancient Rome).

I've read the works of WWII veterans--Catch-22, Slaughterhouse 5, Gravity's Rainbow, even certain episodes of The Twilight Zone--however necessary it was to defeat fascism, however evil were Hitler et al, few of our vets came home glorying in the righteousness of a good war.  Quite the opposite.  How quickly we romanticize what should never be romanticized.

The World War II Memorial is especially frustrating, because throughout the 20th-century, our Memorials became less European-derivative and more authentically interesting.

Exhibit A is of course the Vietnam Memorial: controversial at its construction, the Vietnam famously lists every single American who lost their life there, etched into black granite polished to a high sheen that reflects you back to yourself as you gaze upon their names, forcing you to confront both their humanity and your complicity in their death.  It is carved into a depression of earth like a grave to reflect the hole left in our national soul.  Self-aggrandizing it is not.

Even more brilliant is the three statues set up as a concession to those who demanded a more "traditional" (read: neo-classical European) memorial; but whoever carved these statues threw cold water on any possibility of war-glorying; there isn't a neo-classical bone in these bodies.  The three figures carry their weapons casually and wear their combat-gear loosely, dropping all pretense of military discipline and formality, for they've no taste for such nonsense anymore.

They look over at the Wall with looks of stunned horror, as though gazing over a battle-field strewn with the slaughtered bodies of their fallen comrades.

Somehow the one-two punch the Wall and the Statues, and the symmetry between the two, moved me deeply in a manner that transcends Vietnam to comment on the senselessness of War in general--if Washington DC deserves to be remembered for good by future archeologists, it'll be for monuments like that.

 (I'm pretty sure Ben started to hate me the upteenth time we saw ducks and I said, "But they're not the only thing that's Fowl in Washington!")

The ghostly Korean War monument continues in this same vein, with an (admittedly Vietnam derivative) granite wall covered not with names but impressionistic images (both Anglo and Asian!) that fade inscrutably when you try to peer at them close.  (Appropriate, for the "forgotten" war...)

The wall is accompanied by ghostly-white statues marching miserably through the bushes in heavy clothing, their freezing cold contrasting the sweltering-heat of the Vietnam figures, but both forming an image of men stoic, wondering why, and inviting the viewer to wonder the same...

When DC inevitably gets its Iraq/Afghanistan Memorials, I hope it follows the patterns of the Vietnam and the Korea, not the WWII.

 (Did you know who George Mason was?  Venerated by both Washington and Jefferson? Key figure in the Revolution? Refused to sign the constitution because it didn't address slavery?  Yeah, I didn't know him either.  Anyhoo, that's his statue).

I even like the monuments that split the difference between traditional neo-classicism and modern realism: take first the Lincoln Memorial.  Doric-columns in a marble temple, a larger-than-life statue sitting on a throne, inviting oblation and veneration like unto the Roman Emperors of old...and yet, the statue itself is so incredibly non-Classical!

I saw enough naked men in Italian art museums--what with their perfect elegance and serenity of form balanced according to the golden mean--to be able to tell that the Lincoln here is purposefully non-balanced, non-serene, non-deified; the hands and legs dangle casually and sans symmetry, in a manner that would've gotten a Hellenic sculptor fired.

Lincoln here is dressed not as an Emperor but in his standard, unremarkable clothing, with a face carved not with the smoothed gloss of the Emperors but with every weary wrinkle of his troubles.  In a weird way, seeing Lincoln so deified larger than life makes one confront how Lincoln was not a God, was not larger than life, but was a man, a weary, weighed-upon man, like unto us...

The strangely-underrated Jefferson Memorial is similarly neo-classical at first glance, with it's Pantheon-esque columned dome and larger than life statue; but this statue, even more so than Lincoln, invokes not oblation, but rather invitation.  You can walk around Jefferson here, as he looks not down at but over you, into the distance, as though inviting you to look beyond yourself as well.

One of his quotes on the walls acknowledges the evils of slavery and his Deistic fear of a just God, which quote is just rich, since he didn't even free his slaves like Washington, and DNA evidence confirms he raped at least one of them.  He left the resolution of slavery to a future generation, thus starting the great American political tradition of kicking the can down the road.

Please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to disparage Mr. Jefferson and all he did to establish a country based on individual liberty and not on some racial/cultural unity (note that America alone refers to itself not as a motherland or a fatherland, but as a homeland--our ideals, not our races, unite us); rather, I find Jefferson's deep contradictions to perfectly encapsulate the deep contradictions of America itself.

 As if to drive the Paradox home, directly across the bay from Jefferson is MLK, son of the slaves Jefferson owned, now honored like him.  MLK is represented as a stone-breaking through a mountain, emerging from a block of granite (though the choice of white granite to portray a black civil rights leader is...curious), unfinished like the work in progress that is race relations and America itself, at once refuting and fulfilling Jefferson. 

Arlington Cemetery foregrounds the American paradox, where the near-countless war dead each receive their own name and tombstone...yet are also serial-numbered in perfect rows that blur together, at once acknowledging and erasing identity and individuality.

The Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is likewise jarring, for you feel that you're intruding on something sacred, even though the whole ritual is meant to be a show, specifically of American military precision and discipline. 

Interchangeable guards march there in impeccable but indistinguishable uniforms, haircuts, and sunglasses; they relieve each other in elaborate ritual, solemn in its dignity but also reinforcing hierarchy, not leveling it.  The military defends freedom and democracy, but doesn't practice it.  The Paradox of America.  Yet despite my misgivings, I also found Arlington strangely peaceful and filling...the Paradox of Me.

Really, no monument is going to celebrate America better than the Smithsonian--the Air and Space Museum alone will make you more proud of American accomplishments than all the neo-classical homages in the world. 

I'll abruptly conclude by noting that that phallic Washington Monument is currently covered in scaffolding, a result of the 2011 Earthquake.  (American has finally learned to wear protection, mayhaps?)  The scaffolding represents America all the more poetically--it is broken, damaged, structurally unsound, in need of fixing, a work in progress...yet still standing.

God Bless America, messiness and Romaness and contradictions and all.  And I mean that sincerely.