COVE

Although its popularity has declined in recent years, owning a copy of Omar Khayyám’s Rubáiyát was once a staple in households across Europe and the United States. Deemed one of the most popular ‘gift books’ of all time, Barbara J. Black discusses the Rubáiyát in her book On Exhibit: Victorians and Their Museums, and explores some of the underlying forces behind the poem’s quick ascent to cult status. During what Black refers to as the ‘Fitz-Omar craze,’ special editions of Edward FitzGerald’s translation(s) of Khayyám’s poem became increasingly sought after and had the potential to be incredibly valuable for publishers and booksellers; as new editions were being released regularly, it became a common practice for family and friends to exchange them as gifts, hence its ‘gift book’ reputation (59). These special editions were reliably elaborate and ornamental, often featuring paratextual information such as biographical excerpts on both Khayyám and FitzGerald, footnotes on FitzGerald’s translation revisions, and sketches or color illustrations (Black 60). Despite the price tag on editions such as these, the poem’s relevance in society continued to grow, which resulted in the formation of Omar Khayyám Clubs—first in England in 1892, and shortly followed by America in 1900 (Black 60).

The purpose of these clubs was to connect members with other admirers of Khayyám’s work to gather and participate in Persian customs and cuisine while flaunting their “collected Eastern exotica as well as their bejeweled, miniature copies of the Rubáiyát” (Black 60). A key point in Black’s introduction to this poem is her recognition of its reputation as a “jewel,” “Persian pearl,” or “ruby in a ring of gold,” which then provided an entry point into her discussion of Orientalism’s role in this poem’s reception by asserting that “this poem’s value becomes inseparable from its pretty, crafted, possessable diminutiveness” (60-61). These Omar Khayyám Clubs encouraged gross appropriation of both Khayyám’s work and the Persian culture in which it is rooted through this focus on idealized aesthetics, largely achieved by “de-emphasizing [the Rubáiyát’s] otherness and focusing instead on the familiarity” (61). This ‘de-emphasis on otherness’ was achieved through several means, one of which being the aforementioned name for the poem’s cult following: the Fitz-Omar craze. By placing FitzGerald’s name before Khayyám’s — along with referring to him as Omar rather than his last name, a sign of respect granted only to FitzGerald in this instance — FitzGerald receives the main share of the credit for the Rubáiyát’s reception, likely because his was the more familiar (and therefore trustworthy) name to white audiences. 

Another substantial component of “focusing instead on the familiarity” can be found in FitzGerald’s translation itself; as Black describes it, FitzGerald was committed to giving his edition “an oriental flavor,” which was achieved through his efforts to “prettify the lines” (62-63). Aligning with Charles W. Norton’s praise of the poem only in “its English dress” (61), Black classifies FitzGerald’s translations as “first dressing the Persian in English guise and then demanding a Persian ‘impersonation’” (64). This ‘impersonation’ of Persian culture is glaringly present in the edition of the Rubáiyát that I have been exploring, which was published in 1907 by both Ernest Nister of London and E.P. Dutton and Co. of New York. Considering the time and locations of publication, it is very possible that this “Heath Robinson Edition” may have been owned by a member of the Omar Khayyám Club in either country; this speculation is also supported by Black’s description of the members’ “bejeweled, miniature copies of the Rubáiyát” as mentioned above (60). Measuring at only around 18 centimeters and filled with rich color illustrations from the English artist after whom the edition was named, the aesthetic value of this copy far outweighs the substantive value of the verses within. Robinson’s illustrations are scattered throughout the poem — with three full-page plates along with smaller illustrations featured every two to three pages — which deeply influenced the formatting and presentation of each quatrain, even leading to some being split into two pages with only two lines on each (Fig. 1).

Despite the fact that Robinson was an Englishman all his life, the style of art featured in this edition of the Rubáiyát invokes a very idealized, Orientalist perspective of Persian culture by utilizing bright, rich colors and depicting very stereotypically Eastern characters and scenes (Fig. 2). This imitation of Persian art also exemplifies Black’s assertion that these editions were products of the West’s best ‘impersonation’ of the Persian culture that was subverted in the translation process. FitzGerald’s efforts to “prettify the lines” greatly contributed to the appropriation of the Rubáiyát, as he was “putting English poetry in, and his changes obscurely touched the heart of a people which rarely reads verses and rarely drinks wine” (Black 64). This intervention in the language and content of the poem encouraged the West’s general misinterpretation of the poem, which is deeply nihilistic at its core, and allowed for audiences to perceive it as an empowering statement on "living life to the fullest." As a result of what Black refers to as FitzGerald being “Self-conscious not only about its bookishness but also about its reception,” Western society considered the poem to “[command] to be taken along on picnics and read under boughs,” despite how the poem “endorses ‘infinite resignation’ yet covertly recommends taking the book, reading it in polite company, and surviving long enough to pass it on to others” (62). This misinterpretation — in which “the poem’s nihilistic message clashes with its empowering use” — is reflected in the presentation of the Heath Robinson Edition as well. Several of Robinson’s illustrations evoke this “empowering” message, one of them being a literal depiction of a Persian man sitting in the shade of a bough and drinking wine (Fig. 3). 

Black’s analysis of Orientalism and cultural appropriation in reference to the Rubáiyát explored several more implicit forces at play, and it was an incredibly insightful read; initially, I perceived my chosen edition to be an homage to the culture more than an appropriation, but in reality, it is a strong reflection of how Orientalist ideals persist in society to this day. This philosophy, others like it, and the xenophobia in which they are based are systematically embedded in the Western world, and traditions such as ‘gift books’ and other impersonations of world cultures require critical analysis in order to reject these influences.

Black, Barbara J. On Exhibit: Victorians and Their Museums. University Press of Virginia, 2000.

Khayyám, Omar. Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám: Astronomer-Poet of Persia. Translated by Edward FitzGerald, London: Ernest Nister ; New York: E.P. Dutton and Co., 1907.