One of Amundsen's few mentions of British reaction to his triumph was that "the British are bad losers." Sadly, this piece of commentary just seems to prove him right:
http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/sarah-sands/sarah-sands-captain-scott-ndash-romantic-wrong-but-a-winner-in-the-end-2364263.htmlIt's a pile of muddle-headed garbage. Let's see the reasons why:
"... but our hearts are not with the successful Norwegian. Instead a British voice echoes: "Great God! This is an awful place... Now for the run home... I wonder if we can do it.""
She conveniently omitted the "and a desperate struggle to get the news through first", with its potentially sordid implications. Just like the heavily edited version of Scott's diary that was first published.
"The sentimental attachment to heroic failure over success drives the Amundsenites mad. The biographer Roland Huntford has made a career out of bringing the British to their senses. He now publishes The Expedition Diaries, which proves in the rival explorers' own words the virtues of a professional Norwegian over a British amateur. Huntford concludes that Scott was "an incompetent loser who battled nature rather than tried to understand it"."
"Heroic" failure is still failure, and in Scott's case, it may not have been heroic, since the science he did was almost lost with him for all time. Didn't know Amundsen supporters are now called "Amundsenites".
After grudgingly admitting Scott's screwups, she then gets to Amundsen:
"Amundsen was single-minded and empirical. Dress it up as you wish, but there was only one winner. As Amundsen sneered crushingly: "Victory awaits him who has everything in order – luck, people call it. Defeat is certain for him who has neglected to take the necessary precautions in time. This is called bad luck.""
Amundsen wrote those words in "The South Pole" before Scott's death was known. And they're not sneering; they're matter of fact and plain. A good example of Amundsen himself, who vindicated his words by his actions.
"The irony for Amundsen is that it is Scott who has the legacy. For a start, Amundsen was too committed to take more than a couple of photographs, so we lack images of him. Then, the plants and rocks that Scott's men wasted time collecting, proved to be enduringly interesting. The use of technology was refined because of Scott's trials. Most of all, Scott wrote so movingly about the tribulations, that his diary entries have the power of Shakespeare. Amundsen's successful and uneventful journey lacks the power of language. Poetry tends to lie in the struggle rather than the achievement."
What legacy? Scott gets the legacy of getting himself and his entire party killed, Amundsen gets them all back alive. And we don't lack images of him. Olav Bjaaland took a camera with him, and because of damage to Amundsen's camera, his photos comprise most of the photos of the expedition. There are plenty of photos of Amundsen at Framheim and at the Pole. Like I mentioned before, those plants and rocks were almost lost for all time because Scott had to get his party killed. As for use of technology being refined, Helmer Hanssen, who went with Amundsen to the Pole, had this much to say: "What shall one say of Scott and his companions who were their own sledge dogs?... I don't think anyone will ever copy him." Scott's death was a good endorsement for dog teams if ever there was one.
As for language, Scott moves a person, but only on a superficial level, and even he is no match for Shakespeare. Amundsen's bland understatement is very easy to misinterpret as unreadable, but if one reads past the understatement, he can make you cry and laugh. I did both when I read his writings. Amundsen's journey lacks no power thanks to his language, and the poetry of his achievement is how well he set out to do what he intended to do.
"Compare "so we arrived and were able to plant our flag at the geographical South Pole. God be thanked" with "had we lived I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman".
What is lovable is not the failure, but courage in the face of hopeless odds. Captain Oates "did not – would not – give up hope til the very end"."
Yes, compare Amundsen's unadorned relief and thanksgiving with Scott's writing for effect to pander to the public and to cover up his tracks. Very telling. As for Oates, Wilson ascribed no heroic motive to Oates' walking out of the tent. Also, poor Oates was unable to pull the sledge for some time before he walked out of the tent.
After an aside about qualities supposedly lacking in the British:
"Amundsen planted his flag, but there was no human resonance. He lacked the moral charisma of an Edmund Hillary. Without romance and honour, success can seem mechanistic. The best way to test this is to face death. This is why the end of Scott and his men means more: 15 December 1911 is not the end of the story."
Now another attack on Amundsen. Read Amundsen's writings about the dogs, or what he did when he unfurled Norway's flag at the Pole on 14 December 1911, and then try saying that he didn't have moral charisma. Amundsen may seem like nothing more than Scott's dour, machine-like nemesis, but he was so much more than that. His life too had human resonance. Then there's this aside about "without romance and honor". What romance is there in your entire party dying when it could have been prevented with better planning and decisions? And as for honor, looks like she's still sore about Amundsen winning. "The best way to test this is to face death." The line of reasoning used to motivate Tommies going over the top a few years later. Of course, they never achieved much of a success, but that's not the fault of the rank and file Tommies. Blame the bad officers and the medical examiners who let hordes of unfit men in during the rush of volunteers.
She did get one thing right: 14th December 1911 isn't the end of the story. What I fear now is that history will repeat itself, and like a dead latter-day Mark Antony, Scott will get his revenge from the grave.
