Page 18 - Sorrow of the Earth: Buffalo Bill, Sitting Bull and the Tragedy of Show Business

both the reconciliation between two peoples and the moral and physical

superiority of the Americans. Which is why in the photograph Buffalo Bill
exaggeratedly puffs out his chest in an attempt to give himself a more
dignified air. He stands very straight, his left leg thrust slightly forward, his
head held regally high, sizing up the Indian. Sitting Bull stares into the void,
and simply extends his hand. Progress wins out. We look on with perplexity.

*

I don’t know exactly where in the United States Sitting Bull made his first
stage appearance and began his acting career; but the show never changed
very much. Right at the beginning, while “The Star-Spangled Banner” is

being intoned, Buffalo Bill suddenly appears: he’s on horseback, his arm is
raised, and he holds his hat in his hand. Cowboys and Indians parade around
him, also on horseback. A trumpet sounds. And then, the person everyone has
been waiting for enters the arena. For the highlight of the show isn’t a show,
it’s reality. Yes, there’s nothing to beat it! Reality is an excessive thing; it’s
everywhere and nowhere; and for some time now it seems to have been

fading. It’s strange, and it’s hard to explain: reality is still there but it’s as if it
had lost its substance. Everything you thought it was founded on has suddenly
been disrupted, altered, damaged, exposed. Nothing looks the same;
everything seems to have been swept up by speed, money and trade! And you
can’t really say what former dreams and images fill you with regret. What do
we regret? What society? What ideal? What sweetness?
And now the show is starting. An Indian enters the arena; it’s the victor of

the Battle of the Little Big Horn. He’s wearing his finest costume. “Ladies and
gentlemen, let me introduce the great Indian chief...” vociferates Frank
Richmond from his rostrum.
Sitting Bull has probably never been as alone as he is at this moment, in
the midst of the American flags and the great entertainment machine. He

wasn’t as alone as this when he was living in exile in Canada, with a bunch of
other undesirables; the initial darkness is impenetrable. And to be sure, you
would be alone on horseback, in the icy rain, wandering between indistinct
shapes in the great forest. Yes, you would be alone and sad, but you were free,
and you were filled with a burning hatred. And now Sitting Bull is alone in the
arena; the grand thing that he loved has been left behind, a long way behind.
And here, on the bleachers, this is what people have come for; they’ve all