Last night we watched "Dances With Wolves" again. I find it painful to watch, not just because of the history of the Sioux, but what always gets me is Dunbar's horse being shot, and then the wolf. There is lots of killing in the film, but the animals disturb me. I wanted to check that no animals had been harmed in the making, and it was so realistic at the time, that I thought of "War Horse", a movie I found so unbearable I'd never see it again. Millions of horses were killed in World War I. That movie makes it so that you never forget it. I also have trouble with the plight of horses in general. Meant to run free, they are everywhere imprisoned. Deborah Butterfield's beautiful sculptures of horses bring me to tears. Racing is also upsetting to me, yet I read about the Triple Crown and watch it on TV. Somehow the animal suffering is more accessible for me.
So what is the fascination the Sioux in the story had for Dunbar's dancing with the wolf? This time, seeing the movie, I thought they appreciated Dunbar's sense of play and wordless joy in nature. There are many scenes of the Indians teasing and playing, their humor at the forefront. Yet their lives are harsh and hard. They have kept joyfulness at the core of their being, and they recognize it in Dunbar. They name that joy in the name they bestow upon him. His words were measured, and he withheld the bad news about the whites coming for a long time. They knew he had something more to add, but they waited so that he told what he needed to tell in his own time and way.
Do we insist on hearing the whole story immediately? Do we respect others who are not ready to reveal all? I believe right speech requires no coerced speech. There is a right time for some information. It requires skill to manage information, and skill to hear it. All of this is a delicate dance. Let's not step on anyone's toes.
No comments:
Post a Comment