I've got a friend who is obsessed with Napoleon. I saw him last night, and he has a week off work. "What did you do on your first day off?" I asked him. "I went to see the skeleton of Napoleon's horse in Chelsea," he replied. Naturellement.
A picture that has always fascinated me is the portrait of Napoleon, in enforced exile on Saint Helena. He was put there because it was 2,000 km from any landmass, thwarting his desire to invade and rule.
The picture is of him gazing out to the ocean, none of his desire weakened despite the impossibility of realising it. I think I love that picture because he hasn't given up, but also because it depicts human limits, fallibility and frailty.
Another friend gave me a locket, and I've printed out the picture of Napoleon on Saint Helena. I won't really be in exile in Brazil, or at any rate a self-imposed one. Seeing the picture will remind me of missing home and those two friends in particular.
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