The Crypt of the Sphinx

The Crypt of the Sphinx

Today, I’ve decided to visit the Egyptian antiquities, quietly, studiously, as I used to when I was ten, knowing nothing, curious about everything. Like a good pupil, I start with the Crypt of the Sphinx (room 338). I would like to follow a family—the children in their wanderings—and adopt their rhythm, imitate their quickening pace, their long pauses. Here, in front of the Sphinx, usually a busy crossroads, a sudden calm descends. A single family gazes at the Sphynx—a father, mother, and two sons: one, a teenager, stands back a little, wearing a hoodie; the other, tiny, perhaps five years old, wearing glasses, seems fascinated by this crouching lion with the head of a man. This is surely his first visit to the Louvre, perhaps to Paris as well. He looks up at the pink granite colossus and tries to meet its eye. He will not forget this day.