Terylene warrior
I’ve been watching the first couple of episodes of Into the West, and enjoying it in a guarded way. I find the bits with the settlers deeply dull, but I’m very interested in the parts of the story concerning the Lakota. I don’t know how historically accurate any of it is, but Steven Spielberg seems to have managed a fairly balanced view of both sides so far. I’m pleased that they chose to have the Native American tribes speaking their own languages (though I’m in no position to say how authentic either the language or pronunciation is), but I do wish that they wouldn’t make the translations for the sub-titles so stilted. They sound like my bad Latin translations, and I keep wincing in case ‘White Man speak with forked tongue’ pops up. I can imagine that Lakota language used in ceremonies or rituals might be quite formal, but surely family members didn’t speak to one another in such a telegraphic way?
Anyway, it has reminded me of how obsessed I was with Native American tribes when I was little. I think it was in primary school that I first learned about the Plains tribes, and I thought they were wonderful. I was such a tomboy that I couldn’t imagine a better life than galloping over the wide prairie in buckskin and feathers and living in a tipi, never thinking in my innocence that my life might not have been quite like that as a female Lakota or Cheyenne. For that matter, I didn’t think much about the hardship involved at all, but I suppose I can be excused because I was only six or seven at the time. I want you to take my tender age into consideration when I tell you the rest of the story.
