Consciousness, Literature and the Arts

 

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Volume 14 Number 3, December 2013

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Pastoureau, Michel. The Colours of Our Memories. Transl. by Janet Lloyd. Cambridge, UK, and Malden, MA, Polity. 2012. 186 pages; ISBN-13: 978-0-7456-5571-0. US$ 25.00, hbk.

 

Editorial note

The publishers sent two copies of this book at different times, the first in response to an editorial request, the second without. I gave both copies out for review, and have decided to publish both reviews.

 

Reviewed by

 

Anne Newton

Newark, UK

 

The Colour of Our Memories begins with a charming first chapter, In the Beginning Was Yellow. In the unfolding anecdote Pastoureau recollects the times he spent experimenting with potato prints with Breton, a friend of his father. The memory of the man's yellow waistcoat and the comment made by Pastoureau's friend, Christian, likening Breton's face to that of an Indian sorcerer, has a delightfully innocent naiveté.  The writer’s early observations and preoccupations are delicately drawn and invite the reader to learn more of the child’s progress.

 

Later chapters in Pastoureau's aide memoir show him to be a person who attaches great importance and significance to particular colours. However, he also shows a certain amount of contempt for the adherence to fashions, or trends, regarding such adherences as an unnecessary extravagance. At times his attitude seems to be bound up with class consciousness and the desire to be seen as a serious individual, as opposed to a person who is predisposed, as far as he is concerned, to capricious and false preoccupations. He appears to take an extremely analytical approach to personal tastes, at times showing himself to be unforgiving observer of the likes and dislikes of others. On occasions his frustration is as evident as to be almost palpable. This can be seen in the conclusion of the chapter Slimming Colours where he states:

 

Who are the designers or dictators of fashion who decide on such clothing for people who suffer from embonpoint and who are solely bent on wearing clothes that are as dark and as subdued as possible? Are they marketing specialists who are totally incompetent? Inhibited stylists seeking attention? Malevolent promoters? Scrawny fellows out for revenge? p.24

 

His choice of the word ‘suffer’ in this rather angst ridden outburst would suggest that he sees himself as the victim of some dreadful malady, the issue of body size and weight appearing to preoccupy him and to some extent torment him, at various times throughout the book.

There is a marked contrast between the character of the boy in the first chapter and the man who emerges throughout the book.  Perhaps some of the reasons for this change are demonstrated in the chapter, The Navy Blue Blazer. In his account of shopping for the said item Pastoureau recalls an assistant's thoughtless description of him as 'rather rotund'; a comment which may have marked the beginning of his self-consciousness attitude regarding his size. This seems to be borne out when he later bemoans a lack of clothing in so-called ‘slimming colours’ in a chapter of the same title (p.24) and notes that the majority of clothing colours and styles offered to fatter men are generally of a type that he considers inappropriate and unflattering.

 

In The Sad Tale of Young Philippe (p.30) Pastoureau refers to Philippe’s inability to take part in a school trip owing to his late application and the subsequent rejection of his colour photograph. The child clearly irritated the young Pastoureau by boasting about his superior photograph, taken by his equally irritating photographer father. In this instance a young child, Philippe, was deprived of a school trip and another child, Pastoureau, took delight in the outcome.

 

There is a certain irony in the chapter title, as Pastoureau clearly remember the incident with an unabashed enjoyment. There is a lack of self-consciousness in the sentiments echoed by Pastoureau as he reveals the reaction of his younger self. In this chapter he shows pleasure in the outcome, revealing his sense of justice and fairness to be somewhat subjective.

 

The chapter, Greyness, focuses on Pastoureau’s visit to East Berlin in 1981. In this chapter he describes a colour as "purplish, mustard-tinged greyish brown". He defines the colour as "not a specifically German shade more of a communist one". This seems quite an odd description, for a historian of colour to make, however, his mood at the time may have imbued his memory with a colour that did not exist.

 

He discusses the colours worn by various passengers over a period of several decades on the London Underground in the chapter, In the London Underground, (p.24) His findings appear to be based entirely on the photographs on display at Somerset House, pictures that appear to reflect a limited colour palette. As a result he suggests that these colours are representative of colour choices in general and expresses the hope that historians do not base their opinions on photographs from fashion magazines. It is difficult to ascertain what point Pastoureau is making here, as in the 1960s and 70s many English people wore a far wider selection of colours than he would seem to suggest. At this time the term psychedelic, was used to describe a vast array of neon colour choices and styles. Whilst some people would have viewed these fashions as too frivolous, too busy, or too distracting, others would have welcomed the opportunity to choose clothing featuring bright colours and busy patterns. Since it is also a possibility that the photographer/s in question preferred not to feature this type of clothing it is hoped that historians would consider a variety of photographs and footage before forming their opinions. In view of Pastoureau's comments relating to his size and the lack of availability of more sober colour choices it is perhaps his self-consciousness that causes him to baulk at the idea of anyone making choices reflecting anything other than the colours he describes as sober and sensible. It could be considered that he is using this instance as a way of reinforcing and backing up his opinions. I note that he describes the colours of uniforms as being adopted in order for the wearer to be taken more seriously.

 

In Daily Life My Mother's pharmacy (p.27) Pastoureau speaks of the way in which his mother's generosity caused the collapse of her business and forced the family to move from Mont Maher to the southern suburbs, a place he describes as "a different social cultural and chromatic landscape".  He discusses the colour coding of medicines and considers the way in which the cross became a symbol for hospitals and apothecaries. He also considers the change in the colour of the symbol from green to blue.

 

His final sentence in this chapter states;

 

"Was it a matter of extending the blue of charitable hospices, given that French hospitals, and institutions, tended to adopt that colour as their emblem (generally in association with white)? Or was it a way of declaring that the modern pharmacy is 'a space of well-being', a place of consultation and learning - notions that both symbolised by the colour blue - and that it is no longer a vulgar cavern of some herbalist, druggist or spice-connoisseur?"

 

It is difficult to determine the writer’s intention with regard to these comments. At first glance it seems that Pastoureau is showing a blatant disregard for herbalists, druggists and spice connoisseurs, however, since pharmacists are also known as druggists this could also be interpreted as a criticism of his mother who was a pharmacist. Perhaps these comments are subconsciously attached to his early distress regarding the closure of his mother's business.

 

There does appear to be a considerable amount of frustration In Pastoureau's account of his early life and subsequent years, however, in the chapter, Chrétien De Troyes at the Cinema, (page 66) he appears to take a more relaxed approach. He recalls being consulted by film director, Eric Rohmer, regarding the film 'Perceval' and of telling Rohmer that on no account would the colour purple have been present during the Middle Ages. He noted that his advice seemed to have been totally disregarded by the man (p.67) and states; "In the film purple was everywhere".

 

In the rather sad chapter, Sweet Dispensers, (p.33), Pastoureau describes his younger self as a ‘greedy spoilt child', which raises the question of when this opinion was formed. He recollects the sweet dispensers on Raspail railway station as being grey in colour and then seeing photographs of the dispensers, depicting them as brightly coloured. He also recalls paying for and consuming vast quantities of sweets.

 

In Metro Tickets (p.40) he speaks again about the way that ordinary people dress and of the unwearable colours of the garments featured in fashion magazines. There is a great deal of justification regarding his personal opinion. At times his stance is tentative at other times dictatorial. There are moments when he appears to show a very open-minded attitude and then seems affronted by the images he clearly dislikes or disapproves of. As such there doesn't seem to be an emerging pattern behind his rationale.

 

In Colour by Default (p.93) he expresses a theory regarding the choice of colours in the Olympic rings; yellow for China, red for America, black for Africa, blue for Europe and green for Oceania. He considers that the first three may have been selected for ethnic or racist reasons, with the fourth chosen by default. (p.94). Whilst Pastoureau’s theory is thought provoking the colours in question feature on each of the respective flags, therefore further supporting evidence would be required in order to substantiate his claim.

 

In some respects the book title, The Colour of our Memories is something of a misnomer, as it seems to suggest a much more reflective and altogether broader vision than that expressed by Pastoureau.  At times the writer offers an extremely subjective viewpoint replete with references to his personal achievements, which seem to suggest that he sees himself in terms of these perceived former glories.

 

I would have much preferred to have read more of his early descriptive recollections, as I found the opening chapter delightfully endearing.  Whilst it cannot be denied that some chapters have a certain grace and charm, these attributes cannot be applied to Pastoureau’s many lengthy angst ridden diatribes.  Unfortunately there seems to be something of a fight between the two disparate approaches, which is a pity.