Word: squaw
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...stories are her best, and in tales of Indian, settler, miner and badman, she subtly suggests the tragedy of collision between aborigine and invader, and sometimes the more complicated tragedy of their collusion. Such a story is Lost Sister, a tale of a captured white child who became a squaw and sacrificed her life to save her half-Indian son from the U.S. Cavalry. Only in the one long story of the collection, The Hanging Tree, does the anticipatory whir of film cameras rise above the true sounds of prairie and frontier town...
...poor for a good reason--they drink and they like to work off steam by hitting people. But Hollywood is not content with this--it insists on blaming the individualist for racial prejudice. Jett Rink, in his supreme poor form, calls Mrs. Bick Benedict III (a Mexican-American) a "squaw." Obviously Bick Benedict II (the standing order) would never do this, whether because of his sense of security or his fear of society. But Hollywood's idea that the individualist Jett Rink would be more racially prejudiced simply because he is not "other-directed" is amazing...
...kind of idea that makes him unpopular with the local Army general, the state governor and the boys in the corner saloon, who begin calling him an "Indian lover." Meanwhile, back on the reservation, black-eyed Tianay (Anne Bancroft), a squaw who is "much woman," moves in on Audie with the conviction that he is "much man." Rather stuffily, Audie refuses to prove it in their adobe cottage, explaining that he is already "pledged," and that at best a white man can handle only one wife at a time. But he does prove, in 88 minutes flat, that a white...
...weighs only 110 Ibs. While brooding on his diet ("In a day or two he intended to eat an entire raw liver, for he had been feeling groggy lately; a straight meat diet was getting him down"), David manages to get himself tied up to a tree while a squaw supervises a small Indian boy in cutting off one of his thumbs. He gets free, of course, and goes back to "making pemmican and thinking...
...deeply dislikes David and aims an arrow at his digestive juices. Unhappily, Buffalo Dung misses, and the epic staggers to its end like a strayed moose caught in an Armour's assembly line. By then, for those who wonder Quo Vardis Fisher?, heap big David and contented new Squaw Sunday are headed West, perhaps to Hollywood...