Théodore Géricault: The White Horse Tavern (1821-1822)

Gallery Text: Discouraged by what he believed to be the conservative tastes of the French art establishment, Géricault traveled to England and exhibited his work in London in 1820–21. Received with critical acclaim, he engaged with the local manner, which included an embrace of naturalistic compositions and a more muted palette. Here he depicts a weary uniformed postman receiving a drink from a waiter outside a roadside inn. He focuses attention on the horses, contrasting their detailed muscular frames with the summarily rendered figures and landscape. The inn’s sign, which translates as “White Horse” even though a black one is illustrated, locates the scene in France, possibly outside Paris, explicitly alluding to Géricault’s mingling of British painting conventions and a French context.

"How long before we become the bastion of Decency again?"

These Decency Stories have been serving as Dispatches from what passes as my front line on The War on Decency, which began long before our incumbent’s current term, though he has been a chief, if not exclusive, aggressor. A Dispatch amounts to a letter intended to inform its receiver of the conditions the dispatcher—the letter writer—experiences in the receiver’s absence, often sent from the front line of some conflict. It never even pretends to be a comprehensive report, for no position on any front line provides adequate perspective for any observer, however otherwise objective, to fully experience any conflict. A Dispatch must necessarily represent only a narrow, local view of what usually proves to be a much broader engagement. I have created my Dispatches in the belief that my local view might not materially misrepresent broader perspectives and might instead reflect a more universal experience.

That said, I believe the front lines of any conflict necessarily reside in the chests of the combatants. Not just those presently being assaulted, but all those wondering if they’re next. This anticipation might be the most insidious part of any conflict, for there’s little defense against it and no real confirmation that it’s warranted. One feels paranoid for no obvious physical reason. The War on Decency has necessarily been mostly waged psychologically, anyway, with misinformation intended to confuse and brutality carefully staged to avoid explicit confirmation of its commission. It’s a conflict featuring more rumor than substance, though this characteristic might make it little different than any widespread conflict. Nobody can ever be everywhere at once.

This war involves remarkably few soldiers. It largely features nearly invisible mercenaries who creep around like thieves in the night. They dress like eight-year-olds playing war, as if to downplay their menace. Easily angered, they deploy what sure seems like chips on their shoulders against those who seem perfectly innocent in comparison. In this way, they seem like toy soldiers. It’s genuinely difficult for anyone to take them very seriously, and they gain no respect. It’s not law enforcement if they have to break laws to accomplish it, and so these poor clowns attract detractors who have taken to literally chasing them out of neighborhoods by simply yelling at them. The Decent seem to be more than holding their own, though an untold number have already been illegally detained, with some deported to countries within which they will always be aliens. They might eventually be repatriated, but the reparations will probably prove ruinous. I foresee many, many millionaire aliens eventually living among us.

The heartlessness seems to be the primary purpose of this War on Decency. I can’t see what they hope to gain by their treachery, other than to encourage distrust. If that was the purpose of this exercise, it has so far succeeded far beyond what anybody imagined. But its success amounts to little more than the same rumors it seems to rely upon to engage in the first place. The War on Decency still seems abstract, as it hasn’t actually wounded many. It’s certainly wounded optimism. Pessimism no longer sells at a premium. It’s common as gravel and almost as useful. The seven million-plus who on No Kings Day demonstrated their opposition to this sorry administration were only the beginning of a continually growing throng. Most people know this War on Decency is wrong. The following week should bring this realization home to more, as millions lose essential food assistance and health insurance premiums become generally unaffordable.

Every issue eventually lands on the kitchen table. The price of eggs remains so high that I’m glad I stopped eating them last January. I am seriously considering permanently replacing beef with tofu in my diet, given that beef has become unaffordable, too, and our soybean farmers could use my support. The Muse complains of phantom aches and pains, though we both understand they’re not phantoms. They come from the continuing assaults of the very Decency upon which this country was founded and long aspired to perfect. A perverted incumbent won’t ever manage to vanquish that. Until he’s jailed, though, we all have some unwanted coping skills to integrate into our daily existences. We’re understandably resistant to acknowledging the necessity of adopting these practices, not wanting to give indecency any legitimacy by shifting our focus.

If anything, these unwarranted aggressions have steeled our resolve. If we had ever wondered if we were deep down decent people before, there’s now explicit confirmation that we were, however flawed. Compared to the indecencies daily visited upon us by our ersatz king, we were essentially saints before. This realization fuels my faith that I might be Decent again, even that I still might be Decent, however buffeted my practice seems by current undertakings. I suspect that this sorry administration and their unwarranted and psychotic assaults on Decency itself will spark a backlash that will guarantee that we maintain the highest level of Decency from now on. What Decency’s foes imagined would be world-changing might prove true, but in ways that they will only find deeply disappointing. How long before we become the bastion of Decency again?

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Tags: #Decency, #PureSchmaltz