Third Dream: Argall | |||||||
Seven Dreams: A Book of North American Landscapes | |||||||
William T. Vollmann | |||||||
Penguin, 746 pages | |||||||
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A review by Georges T. Dodds
Arguably, Argall, if anything, is an anti-fantasy or anti-myth, a telling look at the brutality and general incompetence and laziness
of the early British settlers at Jamestown, Virginia. Centered first on John Smith, it paints him as a seasoned adventurer, a man not
afraid to steal from or slaughter the natives indiscriminately when he deems it necessary, and a man hated by his peers because in his own
individualistic and self-aggrandizing way, he's the only one to get off his butt and work tirelessly towards feeding and protecting the
fledgling colony. Upon his return to England, the colony implodes, and the story shifts to Pocahontas, and the more minor character of
the ruthless and draconian governor Samuel Argall, whose sole purpose in leading the colony is to enrich himself, and whose massacres of
the natives and French Acadians make Smith look like a mischievous schoolboy. Argall has Pocahontas kidnapped as leverage with chief
Powhatan, her father; however, upon wise Powhatan's refusal to deal, Argall sees her married off to John Rolfe, an early tobacco breeder,
then christianized into Lady Rebecca, and hauled off to England to be paraded about court.
So why then is this not simply a biographical or "docu-adventure" novel? First perhaps, because Vollman "pens" the novel as William the
Blind, a chronicler and philosopher contemporaneous with the events, but able to glimpse and draw from the present. Remember the likes
of the prose in E.R. Eddison's The Worm Ouroboros or William Hope
Hodgson's The Night Land? Well this is the sort of prose Vollman
uses for nigh unto 700 pages -- and, all in all, it works. The introduction is a bit dense and heavy on convoluted and arcane
philosophizing, being a sort of mission statement to the rest of the work, but once Vollman gets down to the business of telling the
story, the prose gets easier and the story goes on apace. This isn't to say that it's entirely free of the author's musings and
comments, but the fascinating picture of the cutthroat politicking -- not to mention the cutthroat massacres on either side of the
native-settler front -- truly make the times and its heroes and cads come to life. It's this setting of the genius loci of
the era and place through the author's archaic diction and orthography, that like the prose of an Eddison or Tolkien involves one in
the story and sets the mood.
This being said, I've read, in the recent past, a number of 17th and early 18th English texts for a publishing
project I'm involved in, so my saying that Argall is easy to read should be taken with a grain of salt. It's certainly not
the sort of book even I could finish in a couple of days -- that's partly that it doesn't read with the ease of an Edgar Rice Burroughs
novel, and partly that it is the sort of prose that lends itself to savouring rather than skimming. Could the book have gained with
some trimming by a judicious editor? Probably. Is it just the ramblings of an unrestrained or self-absorbed author gone wild? No, or
if so, it's done well enough that one can ignore it.
Another element that stands out, regardless of how one views the author's point of view regarding the native-settler interactions,
or his writing style, is the clearly meticulous research he has done in bringing the story to life. The book, while it draws
significantly on Smith's own accounts, includes a lengthy bibliography of original sources, and later commentary which the author
has also mined. This sort of book is the kind of work that makes one want to look up the original accounts of Smith (see sidebar)
and his contemporaries and read them for oneself. It is partly because the John Smith portrayed in Argall presents an
interesting duality. He is clearly a lone heroic figure as physically hearty and unstoppable as a Conan or Tarzan, but also very
much politically incorrect by today's standards in terms of his overly zealous and Machiavellian handling of native
relations. He's also interesting in that, while he drags the colony kicking and screaming towards survival, he's unappreciated,
even loathed by his peers, with his life one of seemingly endless frustration. The portion of the book dealing with Pocahontas,
reads somewhat like a latter day ethnic cleansing, performed on a single individual, with Argall, the colony governor, looking
very much like a latter day Milosevich.
Is Argall an easy read either mechanically or emotionally? No. It's the sort of book which, regardless of its arcane
orthography or endlessly mythologized subject matter, tells it like it is (or was). If you want to feel good about the founding
of the Virginia colony, rent the Disney version... If you want to know who the characters really were, warts and all, then
read Argall, and if after you feel up to it, by all means read John Smith's own accounts (see sidebar).
Georges Dodds is a research scientist in vegetable crop physiology, who for close to 25 years has read and collected close to 2000 titles of predominantly pre-1950 science-fiction and fantasy, both in English and French. He writes columns on early imaginative literature for WARP, the newsletter/fanzine of the Montreal Science Fiction and Fantasy Association and maintains a site reflecting his tastes in imaginative literature. |
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