1 Charles Corm; Humanist, Entrepreneur, Patriot, Poet
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CHARLES CORM; HUMANIST, ENTREPRENEUR, PATRIOT, POET: AN INTELLECTUAL BIOGRAPHY Chapter Three Charles Corm’s Lebanon at the 1939 New York World’s Fair We stood, yesterday, in the high-ceiled Lebanon Pavilion, awed by the antiquity of the exhibits. Lovely murals, showing the Phoenicians building the first boats of Cedar; the hill scenes and the places famous in Scripture, slowed our steps and smooth-edged the fuss and fury that comes into the hearts of Marsh-ians. Something in the ageless stare of the white marble statues of the ancient heroes of Lebanon dimmed the immediate greatness of the Great. […] It came to pass, and this was late in the afternoon, that we stood before the Cedars of Lebanon. “These cedars,” said the written legend, “felled by heavy snows, are from the 480 surviving cedar trees of Lebanon, some of which date back to Solomon’s time, 3000 years ago.” We saw them, then as through a mist, and imagination carried us completely out of the World of Tomorrow. […] Presently we were aware of a little man who stood beside us, a little, dried up man, with bright little eyes. […] “These trees,” we translated, “stood on the hills of Lebanon. Solomon may have walked beneath their shade, and Sheba’s Queen.” The little man winked. “Sheba,” he told us in an extraordinarily deep and resonant voice, “did walk beneath them.” […] “Now,” the little man muttered, “therefore command thou that they hew Me cedar trees out of Lebanon.” Never, it suddenly occurred to us, had we heard human voice so rich, so warmly narcotic. “My servants shall bring them down from Lebanon unto the sea,” the voice gravely intoned, and we knew a vague uneasiness. The little man moved away. Slowly he passed through the shadowy door into the brightness of the sun. We asked the girl at the little book counter about the little man; who he might be. “What little man?” she wanted to know. We turned to point. The little man was gone. Meadow wind whistled through the air-holes of our pith helmet as we hurried past the Perisphere, filled with the wonder and mystery of the Hall of Lebanon. We were breathless with it when we met Charlie Parker on the press- house stairs. Mr. Parker listened a while in his patient way. […] “There are no little men,” he told us, as a mother tells a bairn. “There are no wee folk, no pixies, no elves, no leprechauns. […] There are no little men,” he whispered. “I swear it.” Meyer Berger At the World’s Fair 1 The New York Times August 18, 1939 But what if there were a “little man”? Who was he? Who would he have been? Was the “little man” with his “rich, warmly narcotic” voice Charles Corm himself? Weren’t those the words with which Corm was frequently described by those who knew him? By those who saw him wrapped in halos of bright stars whenever he entered a room and whenever he uttered a word? Or was this “little man […] with bright little eyes,” who quoted Scriptures in a celestial “resonant voice” before disappearing as mysteriously as he had appeared “into the brightness of the sun,” an angelic apparition? A heavenly lover of things Lebanon? A bard from the Land of the Cedars? Whatever the case, the style, the tone, the structure, the content, the imageries and the literary techniques with which Charles Corm and the Lebanon Pavilion of the 1939 New York World’s Fair were referred to in American media and diplomatic circles were in line with the passage above; they spoke of a man of extraordinary talent and charm, and of a Lebanon exhibit of exquisite mythical beauty. Grover Whalen, the President of the New York World’s Fair 1939-1940 Corporation, noted that as an indication of the profound impression that the Lebanon Pavilion has left on the American public, the mayors of twenty-seven American towns named Lebanon had sent Charles Corm their personal congratulations on the occasion of Lebanon Day on September 1, 1939.1 “May I take this opportunity,” wrote Julius Holmes on behalf of Whalen, “of conveying to you [Charles Corm] my personal admiration and appreciation for the high principles which you have here proclaimed in 1 Letter from Julius Holmes to Charles Corm, The New York World’s Fair 1939-1940 Archives, The New York Public Library, Manuscripts and Archives Division, Box 1470, Folder 10. 2 harmony with the theme and purpose of this International Exposition, which is dedicated to the spirit of peace and goodwill among the nations of the world.”2 As Lebanon’s messenger of amity and friendship and light, like a blazing meteor setting the twilight aflame before dissipating in the neighborhood of stars, an enterprising ambitious sensitive Charles Corm, wedding humanism to entrepreneurship, and patriotic duty to poetic charm, would bring forth to the 1939 New York World’s Fair a dazzling image of his Lebanon; an image imbued in the spirit of benevolence, pacifism, and goodwill—the exemplar and embodiment of his life’s work and the vision he bore for his country and his countrymen. And so, dovetailing the spirited activities of his press (the Éditions de la Revue Phénicienne,) his bustling cultural and literary salons (Les Amitiés Libanaises,) and the punishing rhythm of his writing, publishing, and public-speaking commitments, Charles Corm undertook almost on a whim (as had been the habit of this enterprising cultural and corporate pioneer) to represent Lebanon at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. At forty- five years of age, Corm was still youthful, energetic, bursting with zeal, and ever committed to serving his people and flying his nation’s banner. But his years of uninterrupted work—burning the candle at both ends as it were—had taken a toll, and behind his tough spirited exterior, Charles Corm was brittle, his health was ailing, and it was against the strong advice of his physicians that he would still go on to furrow oceans on yet another lengthy transatlantic trek to the New World. Yet woes of health were the least of the challenges testing and expecting this overachiever’s endeavors. 2 Ibid. 3 As we shall discover in the following narrative of Lebanon’s participation in the 1939 New York World’s Fair, the demands of building a Lebanese national pavilion at this international extravaganza were not only budgetary matters relating to finances and cash resources—which Charles Corm will have shouldered anyway—nor did they pertain solely to issues of vision and planning. Putting on display, at an international forum, a country still under French Mandate, and for all intents and purposes a subordinate republic still untrained and untried in the global limelight, required at the very least the minimal attributes of statehood. From sovereignty, to a diplomatic corps, to the central mechanisms allowing for the normal functioning of political, economic, social, cultural, and international affairs, all these details were lacking in the case of Lebanon. Yet the country that Charles Corm came to put on the international stage turned out to be a resounding success, and the diplomatic and logistical minutiae that he overcame in order to put together such a sumptuous show were overcome as a result of his own labors—and arguably his labors alone. He was certainly the official face of Lebanon and its diplomatic and cultural representative. But so were also the “behind-the-scenes” planning and housekeeping matters his own handiwork. From drawing up the blueprints of the Lebanon Pavilion taking into account American regulations, labor laws, and the Fair’s own architectural specifications; to commissioning artwork, crafts, and replicas of artifacts on three continents; to shipping the décor, accessories, and other trappings of the Pavilion, from Beirut, Paris, and Brussels, and seeing them through American customs; to hiring building contractors and supervising architects and engineers in New York; to obtaining the necessary construction and occupancy permits, ascertaining that the 4 minutest details of electrical work, plumbing and ventilation are observed; to passing inspections, maintaining the Pavilion itself, and hiring its personnel; all of this was the responsibility and liability of Charles Corm, and the expenses for this whole enterprise came largely out of Charles Corm’s personal checkbook.3 By 1938, barely five years after the publication of La Montagne Inspirée—what was hailed by many as a work that came to define the canon of twentieth century Lebanese literature—Charles Corm’s reputation had become larger than life.4 To the Phoenicianist component of Lebanese society—both at home and in the diaspora—his name was well nigh synonymous with Lebanon itself; a condensation of grandeur, grace, wisdom, and beauty. He was considered to be the epitome of the Phoenician archetype: Skilled cultural intermediary, industrious entrepreneur, fearless adventurer, intrepid pioneer, eloquent orator, and exquisite weaver of national energy and pride.5 In that sense, no one could have possibly cast a more charming image of Lebanon’s face abroad than Charles Corm, and no one more than he could have been a more eloquent ambassador of Lebanon to the 3 See The New York World’s Fair 1939-1940 Archives, The New York Public Library, Manuscripts and Archives Division, Box 1497, Folder 6, and Box 2221, Folder 11. 4 See for instance Émile Schaub-Koch’s “Le Poète Libanais Charles Corm,” a series of three essays published in La Revue de l’Université Laval between September and November 1958 (Vol. XIII, No. 1-3.) Schaub-Koch wrote that, “while Lebanese belles lettres may have a rich history in three different languages, English, French, and Arabic, it would be fair to add Spanish and Italian to the lot.