A safari chair like Hemingway’s

When I think of safaris, Ernest Hemingway and his short story “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber” come to mind.

Macomber was the less-than-courageous big-game hunter – the antithesis of Hemingway, an image of whom I can see in my mind’s eye dressed in his khaki outfit and broad-brimmed hat on one of his safaris (which, by the way, means “journey” in Swahili). I didn’t come across any Hemingway artifacts at auction recently, but an item he could have used did cross my path.

It was a tangle of wooden legs and canvases lying on a low table among the furniture at one of my favorite auction houses. At first glance, I couldn’t figure out what it was. In fact, I didn’t have a clue after stopping two to three times to look over the pieces again. There were about 10 to 12 wooden legs or arms, and two dull canvases.

So, I hung around for the auctioneer to get to the pile, hoping that he’d at least have some idea of what it was once assembled. “I don’t know what this is,” he said glibly, but then guessed: “It looks like a safari chair.” And that’s how he sold it.

Was it a safari chair? Who knows. Auctioneers, I’ve found, will sometimes guess at an item and attach as close a name or description as they can. Those of us who’ve been to auctions long enough know to take their guesses with caution, and to bid accordingly.

Some bidder bought the chair for $10.

Later, I wanted to confirm that it was actually a safari chair, so I Googled. The photos that came up in my search indicated that the auctioneer may have been right. The shapes and sizes of the legs fit. So did the canvas seat and back. But since the chair was in so many pieces, it was hard to tell. One retailer, who bought a set of rosewood safari chairs, noted that they broke down into 10 sticks and two slings.

Most of the chairs in my search had leather seats and backs, and toned wooden appendages. That’s not surprising, since some online merchants were selling them for thousands of dollars. A website called Luxist, which writes about luxury and fine living, told of a $35,000 Zebra safari chair called the Percival designed by a British company. The chair was “reminiscent of Britain’s colonial past with a contemporary flair,” the writer said. The country’s “colonial past” isn’t exactly something that ought to be touted.

The story went on to say that the chair was named after Philip Hope Percival, Britain’s famous hunter and safari leader in Kenya who counted Hemingway as one of his clients. He was the fictional safari guide Robert Wilson in the Macomber short story, and appeared in others of the writer’s books.

The crème de la crème of the safari chair, I found, was made by Kaare Klint, who was considered the father of modern Danish furniture design. He was an architect and designer who was known for the Faaborg chair, the Safari chair and the Red chair, which included a sofa and armchair. Klint designed his safari chair in 1933, fashioning it after English officers’ chairs he had seen in a travel guide, according to the site rudrasmussen.com. The aim was to make the chairs light and easy to take apart in the field.

Another famous maker was Arne Norell, a Swedish furniture designer whose pieces date to the 1950s. I found many of his leather Sirocco safari chairs for sale on the web.

I couldn’t find a photo of Hemingway in a safari chair, but I’m certain he had his own. Thomasville was selling a safari desk chair in its Ernest Hemingway Collection.

Maybe I should’ve bought that chair. A friend is headed to South Africa later this year for vacation, and she plans to try a safari. It would’ve made the safari feel a little more authentic.