A Distorted Disaster: The Titanic’s False Memorialization


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In the 1950s and 60s, the world had just suffered what are, arguably, the two greatest disasters in history: World War II and the Holocaust. However, this period is notable in America for its obsession with the Titanic disaster, with the wide popularity of the book A Night to Remember and the growth of the THS (Titanic Historical Society). The juxtaposition of these events is hard to imagine: a global war that took the lives of tens of millions against a relatively small tragedy that claimed just over one thousand. Nonetheless, Steven Biel uses the word nostalgic quite deliberately in the second half of Down with the Old Canoe to describe enthusiasts. Like AJ notes, Americans in the post-war world felt as though they were losing track of their values in the era of “women’s lib” and the end of “the Edwardian Age” (171). They sought to replicate the chivalry and noblesse-oblige that had “disappeared” in years since. (147) The problem is, would any of these enthusiasts with Titanic nostalgia actually put themselves on the boat if they had the chance? Biel doubts it. Then what is the root of this fascination? I believe that it is a distorted memorialization of the disaster. When the iceberg hits, the enthusiasts loved to think that the rich and powerful gladly accepted their fate for the sake of women and children. In reality, however, they were just following protocol.

Like  many other disasters, the Titanic gives us a unique insight in deeper human nature. This is why we find disasters fascinating, why billionaires attempt to replicate the journey, and why James Cameron is a household name. When the barriers of order and class are broken down, we can get a glimpse of true human character. On the Titanic, the face of fate and death, the men stepped aside and allowed the saving of women and children. Chivalrous, right? This is the common distortion of the Titanic’s final voyage. Biel’s sources focus on modern perceptions of the disaster, from prominent novelists and filmmakers to “buffs” who are well researched on the subject. Many enthusiasts, from teachers to novelists to soldiers, formed the Titanic Historical Society to emphasize the “devotion to duty” and manhood of the Titanic’s fallen passengers. (190) However, I believe it is false to associate the saving of women and children with male chivalry. The policy was already established- women and children first- so that men were not give the choice themselves in times of crisis. The decision was not theirs to make, and, for the most part, they followed this protocol. But is that necessarily chivalrous?

To Biel, the use of the Titanic as a display of Victorian character has subsided in recent decades. References to the ship have largely become either political cliches or anecdotes about James Cameron. But the “democratic grave” at the bottom of the ocean continues to fascinate us (45). According to Biel, there’s deeper themes to be found in the Titanic disaster than just “overconfidence in technology” or “the mistake of arrogance”. (217) It’s the revelatory power of the disaster into human nature that keeps us wanting more.

 

The “Common Brotherhood”: The Memorialization of the Chicago Fire


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Carl Smith’s “Faith and Doubt: The Imaginative Dimensions of the Chicago Fire” provides two commonly accepted, but opposing, depictions of the Great Chicago Fire in the late 1800s. The first argued that the Fire was an act of deus ex machine, with God reaching his hand down to Earth and tearing down institutions of malice. The second, and more foreboding, depiction instead viewed the Fire as a great revelation of the sins and evils within the city that humanity must work to ameliorate. Both views can be boiled down to one question: was the fire a reformation in itself, or a call to action for reform? For many observers, the fire was itself a positive, unifying force that tore down social barriers and created a singular community and a “common brotherhood” of Chicagoans. (141) However, the landed classes in Chicago viewed the newly level playing field with hysteria and paranoia, calling it an indistinguishable blend of “human creatures and maddened animals.” (158) Smith writes this piece to remind us that the “moral value” of disaster is entirely based on perspective.

As Casey noted earlier today, Smith does an excellent job juxtaposing the “recovery and hospitality” after the fire with the “violence and corruption” that occurred during it. The first half of Smith’s article focuses entirely on positive memorializations of the fire. His sources range from pastors who praise the fire as a destruction of Chicago’s “gambling-hell” and “primal sin of selfishness” to journalists who celebrate the response as “kindling the fire of sympathy” within the nation (133/141/142).  These positive interpretations of the blaze highlight how the incident served as a “trial of the city’s character,” with the city emerging as unified and determined to rebuild (136). The second half of his article is less cheery, stressing the chaotic reports of people who experienced the fire firsthand. Law, order, and the established social structure break down in favor of looting, lynching, and vigilante justice. The class divides that existed before the fire “were leveled off as smooth as the beach itself,” as fire proved to be a thoroughly class-blind destroyer of property (157). The “swift justice” (A&E reality show potential there) that met thieves in the form of lynching and hanging proved to be a barbaric foil to the great sympathy and care shown to survivors after the fire (153).

“Faith and Doubt,” while not making any bold argument on the moral value of the Great Chicago Fire, serves as a fitting reminder that no disaster can ever be interpreted as purely “good.” While the relief efforts and tales of rebuilding are inspiring, the memoirs of the survivors document a darker story. In the Lord of the Flies-type environment created by the fire, it was every man for himself, with justice nowhere to be found. Smith gives us a solemn  example of how “leveling the playing field” may not be quite as idyllic as we hoped it to be.