Terra Cotta Soldiers

Years ago I found myself in Cairo with a little time on my hands. Naturally, I made a beeline to the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, where I did my best to take the measure of a civilization that remains mysterious in many ways, despite the key role it played in the history of Western Civilization. Cozying up to the ancient Egyptians wasn't easy. I spent most of my time staring at the small-scale models--of a working farm and a brewery, among many other profane subjects--constructed to ensure that the pharaohs would enjoy all the comforts of home in the afterlife.

Much the same spirit as that conveyed in the Egyptian miniatures informs the terra cotta soldiers currently on exhibit at the National Geographical Society (but unfortunately sold out through the end of the show on March 31). The soldiers--there appear to have been some 8,000 of them, altogether--were crafted, along with horses, chariots, musicians, and acrobats, to serve Qin Shi Huang, who declared himself the first Chinese emperor in 221 B.C.E.

I found these objects, like the miniatures in Cairo, most affecting. And while the modern West owes nothing to the Qin Dynasty, I found it extremely easy to relate to these objects, which convey a sense of the diversity and complexity of human nature. The early Chinese emperors were obsessed--for good reason, it turns out--with security issues. Political intrigue in the ancient Qin capital seems to have been every bit as vicious as the plots and sub-plots of Renaissance Florence or 21st-century Washington, D.C. The ancients of East Asia, it turns out, are a lot like us.

Except perhaps in one respect. As my wife had to point out to me, there are no women in this show. One trusts that there are some terra cotta women yet to be disinterred at the archaeological site near Xi'an. I mean, what good is an afterlife without the ladies?