http://www.steynonline.com/5545/the-sheik-of-araby
April 29th apparently marks the anniversary of the launch of the Islamic conquest of the Iberian peninsula in the year 711 – AD, that is; not sure how it’s numbered Islamically. So I thought it would be fun to have a suitably Islamo-dominant number for our Song of the Week. But then I realized I didn’t know any, apart from “Put On A Wahhabi Face”, cheerily sung by millions of Saudi wives as they’re being fitted for their burqas. So, instead of that, how about an all-American number about the desert sands?
Question: What’s the connection between Rudolph Valentino, Adolf Hitler and the Beatles?
Answer: This song:
I’m The Sheik Of Araby
Your love belongs to me
At night when you’re asleep,
Into your tent I’ll creep…
Until 9/11 sparked the current torrid romance between western lefties and the Islamists, the last time the stern men of the desert had the developed world mooning over them was 90 years ago. Even before Rudolph Valentino’s screen version, The Sheik was a smash: E M Hull’s novel sold two million copies within a year of publication in 1919. It’s a cracking read, right from its splendid first sentence:
Are you coming in to watch the dancing, Lady Conway?
And, if you think today’s Euro-American feminists are pretty submissive in the face of Islamist theocrats, well, at the very dawn of female emancipation, millions of women apparently wanted nothing more than to be forcibly seized by some Bedouin chieftain, trussed up over his Arab stallion and ridden into the desert to be his bride. Valentino’s moment was brief: the film of The Sheik opened in 1921 and he was dead by 1926, at the age of only 31. And, to the puzzlement of your average bloke, Hollywood’s first great screen lover was frankly a bit of a nancy boy. But his alleged smoldering eroticism drove the gals crazy, and 80,000 of them showed up for his funeral, and came near to rioting. It was the biggest send-off for a charismatic Middle Eastern type until the Ayatollah Khomeini’s six decades later, when the excitable young lads clutching at his shroud managed to yank the corpse off the bier at one point.
So in the early Twenties the trick for Tin Pan Alley was to figure out a way to cash in on all this sheik chic. There’s always been a niche market for lyric exoticism – “Moonlight On The Ganges” and whatnot – and songwriters were already gingerly setting a toe or two on the desert sand. In 1915 Irving Berlin wrote a number called “Araby”, which includes some of the most atrocious rhymes in that great man’s illustrious career, starting with the first couplet –
Tonight I’m dreaming of Araby,
That’s where my dreams seem to carry me
– and continuing all the way through to the final eight bars:
Soon you’ll see within a caravan
An Arab man
Will take me over the desert…
In between comes one of the better quatrains:
That’s why I long to be
Where all those happy faces
Wait for me,
Beside the fair oasis…