Seems that, following Killers of the Flower Moon, Martin Scorcese is set to make a movie of another David Grann book, The Wager.
It's
a great tale from the half century before the USA existed, but it
features some of the usual distortions of contemporary American
history-telling.
One of the
sailors on board the shipwrecked vessel was called John Duck. Grann
initially reports him as a free black man. In the latter stages of the
book, the author then reports how Duck and two other English sailors are
left behind in Patagonia where they are 'rescued' by indigenous locals
before making their way up to Buenos Aires, where Duck alone, apparently
suffers the terrible, inevitable fate which then stalked his race:
kidnapped and sold into slavery.
Except
this is NOT what happened. The factual version of Duck's story has been
carefully adjusted in line with contemporary expectations in what is
becoming a rather familiar way.
Firstly,
Duck had an English father and was thus of mixed race, known then as a
mulatto. His 'free' status would not have been so unusual.
When
he and his comrades were found by the Tehuelches, all three were
immediately enslaved by these local indigenes and held as involuntary
household servants for a number of years.
At
some point the Tehuelches 'redeemed' (i.e. ransomed off) the two white
sailors, who eventually made it back to Britain without Duck.
It
is uncertain why the Tehuelches held onto Duck, though one of the
others later claimed that their 'hosts' felt that Duck, by way of his
complexion, was one of them, and this feeling may ultimately have been
reciprocated.
This same
'rescued' friend and colleague additionally related that the Tehuelches,
who also liked to enslave white women, had provided each of them with a
Spanish wife, so it is conceivable that Duck did in some way put down
roots with his South American captors.
The
two ransomed Englishmen were imprisoned in Buenos Aires for over a year
in very tough conditions before being allowed to return home as
released POWs, and it is also possible that Duck had consciously decided
not to risk Spanish colonial hospitality while the war dragged on
inconclusively.
Anyway, nearly
all the interesting parts of this story have been carefully suppressed
in Grann's book. Duck is depicted as a black man and he is kidnapped and
enslaved by white men. That is the kind of historical narrative
Americans expect to read nowadays, so that is the history they have been
given, because it feels like it ought to be true, even if it isn't.
Such
are many American 'facts' today: fabrications which identify as
virtuous; improvements on truth. This comes as second nature to
Hollywood of course, but 'journalists'?
I
think what bothers me most here is the notion that Grann had read the
first hand accounts, but in spite of / because of his status as a staff
writer for the New Yorker, felt comfortable with reporting another
version of the story that was only indirectly rooted in reality.
We
tend to blame social media for placing us in silos, for a breakdown in
manners and so on, and there is truth in that, but there is also a
worrying trend within traditional media, which has spread out of the
USA, the end result of which is that much of what passes for
contemporary political debate is little more than a set of interlocking
arguments over narrative treatments.
Growing
up I came across many historians whose interpretative output was
coloured by their backgrounds and political biases, but this overt
promotion (and acceptance) of known falsehoods within academia — as well
as the various kinds of public media we are still liable to trust — has
clearly metastasized within our intellectual culture.
Leo doesn't seem like a natural fit for any of the key protagonists. The gunner John Bulkeley perhaps.
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