YOU know of Little Big Man, of a man called Horse, of a rather wooden individual operating under the curious appellation Dances With Wolves. White men, Europeans, who attempted, with varying success, to assimilate into the world of the 19th century American Indian (or Native American, if that's your druther). All largely fictional characters, all made faintly ludicrous at the hands of Hollywood.
Now learn of the genuine article, the inspiration for the images on the silver screen and the author of the source material on which they are based. Learn of Medicine White Man.
In 1832, George Catlin, a 36 year old painter who was making a comfortable living, churning out portraits for the elite of Philadelphia, packed up his easel, paints and brushes and headed off to what was still the far west of America, the northern great plains that would become, in part, the Dakotas. He wasn't the first white man to venture into the area, but they were still enough of a novelty that the "wild" locals were simply curious, not yet terrified.
Cordial Welcome
One of Catlin's first significant ports of call was a village in the territory of the Mandan tribe. After a cordial, if understated, welcome by the village elders, Catlin set about doing what he did best, painting portraits. His first subject, naturally, was, the chief.
Well, you know the rest; yer man, along with the rest of the villagers, was simply astounded. Never had human hand created such a likeness. This was a wondrous mystery, or "medicine", and clearly some pretty powerful medicine at that.
Catlin was quickly press ganged into whipping up a similar dose of medicine for all of the worthies in the tribe (so far, yet strangely so near to the salons of Philadelphia) and, sure enough, he was christened Medicine White Man. The Mandans were not given to rhetoric.
During a lengthy stay, Catlin came to know the Mandan well. He was the first white man to be taught the significance of the sacred, red pipestone quarry, and the first to record the story of the not so brave braves of the Mandan tribe, the so called Fainthearts, or their near cousins, the Contraries, a la the lad who does everything in reverse in Little Big Man. He watched the young men in games of skill with bow and arrow, and he learned the intricacies of the battlefield and marriage bed.
We know all this, for Catlin recorded the lives of the Mandan not only with paint and brush, but also in his journals and letters.
Roger Gregg, a playwright and actor who settled in Ireland from his home in Detroit almost 20 years ago, has adapted Catlin's writings for radio, and, this week they fill the RTE Booktime slot. Roger has had a life long fascination with all things American Indian; indeed, he has had a print of one of Catlin's more famous pieces on his wall since his university days.
Last year, Roger began work on the Catlin letters with no clear project in mind, maybe a one man performance. Right now it's a radio piece.
"Catlin is regarded as the foremost chronicler of the American Indian in the 19th century," Roger says. "He was dismissed by many of his contemporaries for being self taught, but he's recognised today for the truthful recording in his paintings, and in his writings, of the appearance and culture of native Americans. He stands out for his objectivity and accuracy.
Hyde Comparison
Roger has selected and edited the letters considerably, removing the more archaic wording and organising it more concisely. But to be faithful to all concerned, Roger sent his adaptation off to the eminent Smithsonian scholar John C. Ewers, who, Roger says, is to American Indian studies what Douglas Hyde was to the Gaelic revival.
Ewers was extremely encouraging, and referred Roger to another prominent scholar, Colin Taylor, who has written on the Mandans. He assisted Roger to contact some of the surviving Mandans at the Fort Berthold Indian reservation.
"One elderly man, Edwin Benson, who is a fluent Mandan speaker, actually sent me a cassette tape with the correct pronunciation of the words I use in the broadcast. I did my best to pronounce the words properly, but they have this `Xxxch' sound!
"So, anyway, what I mean is that these broadcasts aren't just, captivating, `Wild West' Indian adventure stories, they also represent some fairly well researched, sound scholarship."
After his years in the west Catlin returned to "civilisation" and, initially, popular acclaim. But after a year or two off commercial success touring with his "Indian Gallery" in the US and Europe (including Dublin), Catlin's luck ran out. And, undaunted by the dwindling public interest, his single mindedness eventually spelled complete financial ruin for himself and his family: two of his children, and finally his wife, died, as a result of the poverty he brought upon them.
Epilogue
In the programme's epilogue, Roger states: "After a lifetime dedicated to recording the appearance, manners and customs of the `wild' American peoples, George Catlin died deaf and penniless in 1872. His magnificent collection of paintings, "drawings and Native American artifacts had been sold to settle his crippling debts.
In 1874, after most of this collection was already irretrievably lost, some 445 damaged paintings were presented to the Smithsonian, where they lay neglected for over half a century. George Catlin's Gallery paintings were finally hung in a major Smithsonian exhibition in 1965."
Big Question
Dealing with Catlin's fascination with the Indians, Roger remarks: "The great question, which Catlin seems to so poignantly personify to me is: So what? Why bother? Was trying to record a dying primitive culture worth it? Even at the price of one's well being?
"Who cares about some tribe wearing feathers and animal skins. What relevance to the `civilised' world? We're too busy building that new power plant. Look, over there! That's where they're building the new mall."
"Catlin could have continued making a comfortable living it he stuck to painting the portraits of Philadelphia's well to do, or better yet, followed his father's advice and remained a practising lawyer. He would have died comfortably, but then who today would be able to see a glimpse of the Mandans living free and content in their villages along the Missouri river?"
(Medicine White Man: Selections from the Letter of George Catlin concludes on RTE's Booktime tomorrow night.)