American Beginnings: The Frontiersmen and The White

Late eighteenth century America would be a place completely unrecognizable to a modern day American. While much of the eastern seaboard was tied up in the conflict that would eventually lead to our independence from Great Britain, the areas of Ohio, western New York and Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Kentucky were facing their own battles. As white settlers pushed further and further west, they intruded upon the lands of Native Americans, often with disastrous results. The White by Deborah Larsen and The Frontiersmen by Allan Eckert highlight some of these struggles, headlined by names such as Mary Jemison, Simon Kenton, and Tecumseh. Both books are shining examples of how historical fiction can illuminate both the factual and emotional elements behind historical events.

The Frontiersmen is the first of Eckert’s epic six-volume series. It focuses largely on the life of Simon Kenton, who entered the frontier at just sixteen after he thought he had killed another man in a fight. Kenton easily adapted to life in the woods, becoming an expert marksman, scout, and trapper. Kenton travelled up and down the Ohio River and into parts of Kentucky previously unexplored. He surveyed hundreds of thousands of miles of land, helped newcomers safely venture through the area, and guarded the settlers from attack. At one point, he was captured by the Shawnee, but survived long enough that he was eventually adopted into their culture. Upon returning to white culture, Kenton continued to serve as a local living legend until his death in 1836.

Eckert also highlights the hero of the Native Americans - a young Shawnee named Tecumseh. Frustrated at the theft of his people’s lands and the murders of his fellow Native Americans by the whites, Tecumseh quickly becomes a respected leader among the entire Native American community. Travelling all across the country, he gives lengthy and powerful speeches encouraging each unique group of Indians to unite as one strong force against the white invaders. Unfortunately, his own brother’s foolish actions prevent his dream from fully coming to life. He is forced to ally with the British, whose disregard for the Native Americans and general poor planning ends in the rebellion’s defeat. Tecumseh himself is killed in battle, and none other than Simon Kenton identifies the body. Kenton, out of respect for the man he came to know during his explorations, prevents his peers from disrespecting Tecumseh’s body.

Eckert writes in masterful detail, and his lengthy footnotes show his amazing attention to the facts. There is no doubt that Eckert puts the history first in his fictional adaptations. The dialogues are often taken directly from letters and diary entries, and are short enough to really keep from true adaptation. The narrative style adds to the flow of the story and brings each of these amazing American men to life.

Simon Kenton was still an infant when 12 year old Mary Jemison, living just outside of present day Adams County, Pennsylvania, was captured by a group of Shawnee Indians and Frenchmen in 1758. The rest of her family was killed by their captors, but Mary was adopted by two Seneca sisters to replace their murdered brother. The young woman adapted to this new culture and learned to thrive in it, never forgetting her roots but choosing not to let her past hinder her future. Readers watch her transformation from a terrified young girl to a noble, welcoming mother, wife, and community leader.

Author Deborah Larsen first discovered the story of Mary Jemison while touring the area around her home in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. She came across a statue of Jemison in the Buchanan Valley, the same area of Pennsylvania where the Jemison family was captured back in 1758. After reading an early edition of James Seaver’s A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison, she was hooked. “When one finds such a breathtaking narrative with so much sweep, it is as if a gift has appeared out of nowhere.” Larsen said.

Her passion for Mary’s story is evident in her writing. Larsen uses a far more emotional style of storytelling than Eckert, taking readers inside Mary Jemison’s thoughts and feelings with her captivating prose. In fact, Larsen’s first interpretation of Jemison’s life story came in the form of a screenplay. History is often a place where the stories of brave men overshadow the stories of equally brave women. It is refreshing to see Mary’s life fleshed out in such a unique and captivating way, just as it deserves.

As for the historical accuracy? Certainly, we can only guess at Jemison’s true thoughts and conversations all those years ago. According to Larsen, much of the books events were shaped on Seaver’s account, with additional information gathered from Arthur C Parker’s works as well as American Indian Lacrosse: Little Brother of War by Thomas Vennum Jr. Unlike Seaver’s original account, however, Larsen gives Mary Jemison her own voice, independent from Seaver’s “rather stiff, Victorianish prose”.

She hopes that readers of The White will question its historical authenticity. “I wanted to make American history and personages appealing to others using any means I could. If curious people are led back to other sources and to historical documents, this is all to the good.”

And that is the exact reason why historical fiction is a necessary part of how we preserve our past. History does not have to be boring. It is the story of all of us, both brave and weak. It is the story of mistakes, tragedies, and great accomplishments. But history is not always interesting for everyone, and most people with just a casual interest in a subject will not be thrilled to sit down to a heavily detailed, impersonal nonfiction account. Historical fiction helps to bring these stories to life, and if done in a way that still respects the history behind it, can be a brilliant way to make history accessible for a wider variety of people. Both The Frontiersmen and The White recall the lives of amazing individuals who shaped the history of America, with a little embellishment. And if those extras help to introduce even just one more person to these stories and the historical fact behind them, then it is worth it.

And these stories do still matter. “Mary Jemison faced both personal and early-American turmoil and trauma, including the French and Indian Wars and the American Revolution. She suffered and triumphed by facing these events and by being resilient She also went out of herself and often took an active role in aiding others, no matter what their political, racial, or ethnic backgrounds. We think of multiculturalism as a somewhat modern phenomenon, but during Mary’s New-York-State years, she lived right in the middle of it.” Larsen said. “I think the world today could use more of her openness, thoughtfulness, humility, and activism.”

Two Wars, Two Men

The Korean War and the Vietnam War are two of America’s darkest hours. Both wars, while not total defeats, were also far from total victory. David Halberstam’s The Coldest Winter and Neil Sheehan’s A Bright Shining Lie take a look at Korea and Vietnam respectively to show just what went wrong for the world’s superpower. In many cases, the mistakes of Korea were reflected in the mistakes of Vietnam. Most interestingly, both authors chose to look at the war through the perspective of the man they found most influential to the course of the war - in Halberstam’s case, General Douglas MacArthur, and for Sheehan, John Paul Vann.

Both Halberstam and Sheehan worked in Vietnam during the early days of the war as correspondents. They witnessed first-hand the incompetencies and trials of a war abroad, and surely this experience led them both to write about America’s Asian land wars. Both men are not afraid to portray the ugliest sides of the conflict, never hesitating to criticize the men they feel are responsible for the chaos. They are fascinating accounts that will satisfy the needs of any reader with an interest in military history.

David Halberstam’s The Coldest Winter covers the major battles of the Korean War, but the work focuses mostly on the politics behind the battle. Countless chapters are devoted to the infighting among Communist leaders in China, North Korea, and the Soviet Union, as well as the factionalism back in the United States, where the China Lobby and general fear of Communism played a huge role in the way President Harry Truman was forced to operate. Other books on Korea may choose to focus on the battles and military mistakes themselves, but Halberstam shows the true reasoning behind the war. The Washington Post’s Stanley Weintraub, an expert on George Bernard Shaw, notes that this lack of linear structure best serves a story so heavily influenced by politician’s back home.

At the heart of this story, however, is General Douglas MacArthur, a man deeply loved by the American people for his success in World War II. A cult of personality developed around MacArthur, making him almost untouchable to even the President of the United States. MacArthur was given complete control of the war, even when his own ideas greatly conflicted with the reality on the ground. In a display of his own hubris, MacArthur claimed that the Chinese would be so impressed by an amphibious landing at Inchon that they would back down and refuse to intervene, leaving the North Koreans to be crushed. The initial success of the landing against all odds again contributed to the mystique of MacArthur. When intelligence reports indicated that thousands of Chinese were moving in the north, MacArthur simply manipulated the details to make it go away. As a result, the American troops were divided, understaffed, improperly clothed, and completely unprepared when the Chinese finally struck. They were forced to hastily retreat back south, leading to the death of thousands. Halberstam’s position on MacArthur is clear as he coldly notes that MacArthur never spent “a night in the field in Korea”. It isn’t until Truman finally fires MacArthur that the war can finally get back on track to a simple stalemate. Halberstam ends his story over a year before the war is formally drawn to a close, reflecting the true impact of MacArthur on the war.

It seems that America did not learn from her mistakes. Those same causes for failure - ignoring the men of the ground with the best look at the war combined with the sense of superiority over an Asian race - would be seen yet again in the Vietnam War, according to Neil Sheehan. Sheehan tells the story of John Paul Vann, an adviser to the Saigon regime, whose rare, insightful understanding of the war in Vietnam seemed almost ahead of his time. From the earliest days of the war, Vann was skeptical of the Saigon regime and the American military command’s overwhelming confidence. For him, the problems existed within the Saigon regime, not the war itself. When he couldn’t bring about the change he wanted through ordinary means, he went through the Saigon Press Corps, which included Neil Sheehan and David Halberstam, in order to show the incompetencies to the American public. While his superiors saw him as a nuisance, Vann quickly gained the respect of the men he was commanding because of his energy, dedication, and bravery. His ability to act under pressure and create real action made him a hero until his tour of duty ended in April of 1963.

Sheehan is not simply in awe of the man who shaped his early reporting career. As noted by Ronald Steel of The New York Times, part of what makes Sheehan’s writing so engaging is his ability to portray Vann as a complex, human character. The man who rose up against all odds in a poor and dysfunctional Norfolk family still possessed many flaws. He cheated on his wife frequently, once with an underage girl. While the military cleared him of all charges, Sheehan speculates that this event may have kept Vann from moving up the military chain any higher. Vann also kept two Vietnamese mistresses, one of whom he got pregnant. Sheehan does not seem to draw his own conclusions about a man he obviously admired, but whose flaws cannot be ignored. This character portrayal is perhaps the greatest difference between Sheehan and Halberstam’s books. While Halberstam’s MacArthur is almost a villain, Sheehan’s Vann is simply a regular man, with both good and bad characteristics.

Perhaps it is because of these issues back home that Vann was so drawn to return to Vietnam, this time as civilian officer with AID.  Here, he finds true way to win the war - winning over the peasants. The peasants were regarded as expendable by both the Americans and the Saigon regime, who did not hesitate to destroy their homes or kill them. As a result, the peasant population was far more inclined to side with the Viet Cong. Vann proposed that in order to win the war, the peasants should be provided with food, resources, and educations to show them that Saigon and the Americans were truly on their side. As a Deputy for CORDS, Vann attempted these reforms on a small scale. However, the vast corruption within the Saigon government made this nearly impossible.

Vann died in a freak helicopter accident before the war’s end. His funeral, held at Arlington National Cemetery in 1972, brought together ideological enemies to mourn a man so widely admired. Sheehan attended as well, and the service inspired him to spend 16 years compiling A Bright Shining Lie. The research is evident in Sheehan’s amazing portrayals of war, men, and government in vivid detail.

Both books are clear portrayals of the wars they describe. Their authors, influenced by seeing war up close and personal, aimed to tell the true story behind these conflicts. Rather than focusing on the linear structures and moving battle to battle, they discussed the real stories of the men and politics who shaped the war. The results are two fascinating, detailed, and emotional histories of the American military abroad. While America cannot change its past, we can learn from these mistakes. The Coldest Winter and A Bright and Shining Lie are both portray two unique men in two unique wars, yet the stories ring eerily similar.

The Phenomenon of Malcolm Gladwell

Malcolm Gladwell is one of the most successful North American authors in our world today. Since 1996, Gladwell has written for The New Yorker. His first two books, The Tipping Point (2000) and Blink (2005) both made The New York Times bestseller list, as did his next three books. Readers adore Malcolm Gladwell. And who can blame them? He is an unbelievably talented writer with an ability to retell bland scientific reports in such a way that readers won’t want to put down the book. He’s funny, engaging, and you leave his books feeling like you’ve been let in on the next scientific breakthrough.

Despite the success, Gladwell has been subjected to serious criticism as his popularity increased. The problem? Gladwell’s writing relies heavily on anecdotes to convey his point, including everything from Airwalk shoes to the forged kouros statue at the Getty Museum. His easy to read, relatable style makes these stories into fascinating reads. However, it is when Gladwell tries to pull these anecdotes into a deeper meaning where he struggles, perhaps because of his training as a short story writer for The New Yorker.

In particular, McGill graduate and Harvard professor Steven Pinker shared a particularly scathing review of Gladwell. According to Pinker, the issue lies in the fact that Gladwell simply interviews one expert on a subject and reaches his conclusions from that interview. “When a writer’s education on a topic consists in interviewing an expert,” Pinker wrote. “He is apt to offer generalizations that are banal, obtuse, or flat wrong.”

Stephen Bailey at The Guardian points out that Gladwell really does not develop that strong of an argument. In Blink, readers are left confused as to whether or not rapid judgement is actually better than deeply considered decisions. He offers anecdotes to how each is beneficial. On one hand, there is the instance in which the Getty Museum purchased a Greek statue despite numerous art experts noting that the statue just didn’t look right. On the other, after performing poorly with blind taste tests, Coca Cola dramatically altered their recipe in a way that ended up being hugely unpopular with consumers. So which is best?

Gladwell’s critics do share some fair points, but ultimately, this criticism would not be so elaborate if not for Gladwell’s overwhelming success. He is able to accomplish what so few writers can - making science popular. How many average people would read about the research of Paul Eckman’s Facial Action Coding System in their own time? The hundreds of muscular combinations would bore us, or be too complicated for us to understand. Gladwell succeeds because he serves as the liaison between scientific thinkers and the average person. Sometimes, the average person needs that simplification in order to enjoy and comprehend what they are reading.

It is no secret that Malcolm Gladwell is a master of the essay. His anecdotes present fascinating tidbits of social science that appeal to a vast majority of readers. Perhaps he is guilty of oversimplifying in many instances, however, how can we blame him? Malcolm Gladwell is not a scientific writer, he is a popular journalist. He knows how to entertain us, and we will continue to gobble up his books time and time again.