Posts from the ‘Titanic’ Category

Movies and Television: Artistic Liberty over Reality

Movies and television programs are always fun to watch and are great diversions, but they are never to be taken seriously. This is likely due to the fact that such fare intends foremost to entertain. In this context, then, artistic liberty takes precedence, even when the content claims to promote a sense of realism. Audiences, especially professional researchers, must always remember that point. Unless the research conducted pertains to entertainment, movies and television are not reliable resources for factual information.

That’s not to say that such media offer no valuable insight worthy of intellectual consideration. Frasier was a long-running television series known for its high-brow content dealing with real life issues and personal growth; yet it should be noted that the show was a comedy written and produced to entertain above all else. Viewers are wise not to depend on the show as an authority on psychiatry or to promote therapeutic treatment, though the insights shared do offer watchers an opportunity for personal reflection. Still, everyone should remember that this example serves as a means of artistic expression, not a professional or academic contribution to the behavioral sciences.

As for full-length features, films depicting historical events do not guarantee complete factually based content. The Titanic (one of my specialties, as my readers already know) is an ideal example. The actual event caught the world by storm in April of 1912. Over time, the ship and its story would achieve the status of legend. As a result, the tragedy has inspired no fewer than eight different cinematic incarnations, none of them conveying the reality to a point of indisputability. Yes, many aspects still remain unknown, spurring off personal interpretations that play a role in story progression. This is one reason why movies offer nothing beyond face value. Where gaps or uncertainties exist, filmmakers take artistic liberties for dramatic effect. This is even the case with established specifics (i.e. facts); filmmakers quite often initiate changes in certain details to enhance plot elements, such as suspense and intrigue. Numbers and rating are priority, not scholarly advancement.

Some argue that filmmakers, like James Cameron, conduct research for their historical pieces like Titanic. That is true, but Cameron’s purpose first and foremost is financial, as his films require a substantial return on the initial investment put into production, such as set creation, computer graphics and, of course, performer compensation. If this return is not met, the company loses money.

One must consider also the fictional aspects involved. The central characters of Jack and Rose in Titanic are a great example. Neither of these individuals ever existed, nor were they on board the Titanic. Creating fictional characters in their own fictional story allowed Cameron the means to spread his artistic wings and build suspense and drama as he saw fit, including the impossibility of a romance between a first-class and third-class passenger. Adolescents and young adults between 13 and 30 comprised the bulk of Cameron’s target audience, and so he needed to appeal to the idealism of those in this age range in order to draw them into the story. In doing so, he ensured the movie’s popularity, its eleven subsequent academy awards and the ongoing financial returns. The fiction of the project made this happen, not the reality of the actual event that had inspired it. Since Cameron foresaw this, his sense of artistic liberty superseded the research he conducted. His research served only to create a sense of realism without adhering to all the facts involved.

Other film genres are the same way. One common instance can be seen in science fiction. Futuristic movies that show explosions in space negate the fact that such fiery cataclysms require oxygen, which is not present in the vacuum of space. Therefore, such ignitions would be impossible. Yet the excitement that such an effect generates draws in paying audiences. Time travel movies as well offer cleanly knit plotlines where characters travel back into time to explore or right a wrong. This condition creates a paradox whereby a problem still exists even though the character(s) had eventually gone back to correct it. Movies like Back to the Future, Austin Powers and Star Trek First Contact are popular regardless of the holes and the answered questions that such holes generate. They do not correspond to the principles of Physics, but instead what sounds convincing to progress the plot twists or showcase the ‘glitz’ of future technological innovations. Despite their innovative cinematic conceptualizations, these films are meant to be nothing but escapist fare, although they do drive viewers to ponder the question: “What if . . .?”

The ironic twist behind such visuals is that they captivate the minds and imaginations of the audience. That quality serves as a double-edged sword, meaning that such effects intend to make the story compelling, yet attempt to convince the viewers that what they are experiencing is somehow palpable and genuine. This is where the role of the spectator emerges with regard to the characters and story.

That is not to say that movies and television can not or do not serve a viable role in the research process, as they do offer inspiration with regard to creating visual and auditory dimensions to the subject being researched; these depictions are assimilated into the greater body of research to assume the status of pieces to a larger puzzle, as long as they are utilized appropriately and only to the extent needed. No compilation of research on the Titanic would be complete without the many cinematic representations of the tragedy; something vital would be missing from the whole in their absence.

One exception to all of this is documentaries. These projects offer a well-concentrated focus on information pertaining to a particular subject of interest. After all, one of their purposes is to take enthusiasts on a journey of exploration by discussing any and all current information. Still, documentaries are not totally removed from the influence of the numbers; rating ensures broadcast and/or DVD sale priority, which comes before scientific promotion. Moreover, documentaries often reflect the perspective and/or agenda of the filmmakers, even when including expert or witness testimony.

Researchers must maintain a sense of objectivity when assessing movies or television shows and what they intend to do. These presentations are what they are and do have their place. As long as researchers are cognizant of this, they will be able to use such resources efficaciously.

Still, in the end, there is a compromise. The dichotomy between cinematic purview and research must always remained balanced, as should the conciliatory relationship between artistic license and realism. The tasks of justification and responsibility fall equally on both the researcher and the filmmaker.

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Images: The ‘Face’ of Information

I recently conducting research on the .S, S, Hunley, the now-famous submarine used by the Confederates during the American Civil War. Much of this research consisted of images depicting the old ship and its schematics, as well as the reformation of the crew’s faces as made possible through the reconstruction of their retrieved skulls. These images fired my imagination and inspired my curiosity. Who were these men? Where did they live? How old were they? Did they have families? . . . The questions kept on flowing; the imagery drew me in and motivated me to look for further information on the Hunley, its crew and their mission.

Images are very important in research for many reasons, some of which are obvious, others not so much. First, as illustrated above, they offer a means for continuing searches through the formulation of questions that direct the research and enhance some degree of personal interest. Another common means for utilizing photos and video compilations is that they offer information that might not be otherwise available through textual data. For example, in my years of research on the Titanic, visuals of the wrecksite have opened up to me the vast array of details crucial in explaining how the ship sank, from point to point, and how one outcome led to further developments resulting in the ship’s ultimate demise. By viewing the images of the hulk and debris, one can see not only what happened that fateful night, bit HOW it happened. This is one way I was able to piece together the sinking from beginning to end. Likewise, I was able to discern what didn’t happen and why, so images work both ways. That leads to yet a third possible role for visual compilation in the process of research: they otherwise confirm or refute that which may be theorized regarding a certain body of knowledge. Finally, these visuals add the oh-so-important ‘face’ to the subject so that researchers can see for themselves what they are studying, as in the case of Waverly Hills Sanatorium. Pictures of this old structure , inside and out, show us what the place was once like and now is as well as how it is/was designed. We see it for ourselves and know that the subject of our research is, in fact, real and not imaginary. Without pictures, researchers lack that eye’s view necessary for getting to know the subject matter intimately, and for serious researchers, intimacy with a given subject is essential, even crucial, for success in knowledge acquisition because they form personal relationships that open them up to whole new worlds of insight and being.

This last part is not as ideal as you may think. Researchers yearn to connect in some way with their subject matter so they might “communicate” with it, swim in its vast seas for both frolicking enjoyment and concentrated retrieval and application of ever-growing information that only a close relationship with the subject matter can bring forth.

Keep in mind that information comes in many forms and degrees of significance, all of which incessantly lead to yet information further that would otherwise be inaccessible through mere reading. Intimate knowledge comes by way of a researcher getting close to the subject, even becoming one with it. This intimacy even allows one to create knowledge through theorizing, deductive reasoning, even forming presumptions. For example, viewing images of Scottish Castles allows a researcher to form conclusions in many areas of study related to the castle, such as history, architecture, medieval warfare, structural material (stonemasonry), genealogy, meteorology, and Scottish traditions and legends, just to name a few. And from here, research and its ongoing accumulation and formulation of knowledge continually branches off and expands as further research is conducted and data collected. Images of these castles, along with field research to allow researchers access to physical contact with an object or objects of study, open up a window to all of these interrelated areas so that information can be more easily absorbed and cataloged away in the permanent memory. Since the majority of people, like me, are visual learners, this seems most ideal. In actuality, the preference and desire for imagery in research and even formal education is likely due to this human condition.

The above consideration can be further explained in further detail: When researchers visit any of these Castles, they are able to determine many things: height (not only actual, but perceptual height, which is equally important in the case of description), size, conditions of the stone, the pattern of destruction and structural deterioration, the placement of debris (see also Titanic), actual geological location, agricultural conditions, proximity to water or other geological formations, location relative to other castles and nearby towns . . . All of these can render information and hypotheses on who lived there, how and when the castle fell into ruin (if it, in fact, had), how the family lived, what type of warfare took place (if, in fact any had), how long the castle had been decomposing (if it is, but then again, everything is), what kind of bacterial microbes were/are at work on eating away at the structure, whether or not buried items are there to suggest, say, the social caste of previous residents, etc. Images alone cannot garner this information, at least not well-linked like strings of pearls, but when they are accumulated, such as in the case of Lambertville High School, add dimension and depth to the story behind the subject. This is why field research is necessary, with the inclusion of video, to bring forth that realism that is crucial when studying said subject, because that sense of realism allows the researcher to go behind the collection of mere data to get to know the actual being inside and out, to become an integral part of it, and to make connections so that gaps are filled in regarding both physical composition and the essence of the subject.

Is video, then, better than photos? The answer to that question is: no, not at all. Videos capture a subject in ongoing panoramic form, where viewers can see it in flowing movement, not to mention how multiple features tie together, without end; stills, on the other hand, though offering limitations in vantage point of the subject, provide viewers the opportunity to study one point in minute detail without motion or other disruptions to interfere. Such is the case with art, like Dali’s work, much of which is complex in meaning due to the myriad of details, brush strokes, hue tones, contours, and shadows. In light of this, videos and photographs are symbiotic in nature and rely on one another to ‘paint the overall picture’. The subject is presented in all its depth, showing many dimensions, while, at the same time, is saved in suspended animation for ongoing study.

The advancement in technology, too, has contributed to the efficacy of imagery as a source and component of research. The aforementioned video is a relatively new development as far as visuals are concerned. Although the first photographs ever taken date to a time prior to the American Civil War, motion pictures (meaning those depicting actual movement) quite possibly existed as early as the 1870s. To many, that might seem like an eon ago (over a century), but when one contemplates how long human beings have been learning about their world, that amount of time is comparatively miniscule, the virtual blink-of-an-eye. Needless to say, the motion picture has captivated audiences since its inception. Editing machines, too, have allowed researchers to control and, yes, even manipulate the visuals captured. This is not necessarily a deceptive thing; this technology provides researchers the ability to enhance and selectively focus on certain aspects of the subject over others, depending on the concentration of study and/or showcase. This is quite often important with regards to education where lessons require attention to particular points. Subjects are so vast that the knowledge and information would otherwise overflow and much of which would go either missed or unrecognized.

Further possibilities have come through the advent of computer technology, which allows compilers to be dynamic in visual presentation. Now software programs and various applications, such as Paint Shop and Adobe™, offer a means to create or add to imagery. Such enhancements provide viewers an opportunity to see visuals in different ways to either entertain and/or challenge perception and to think about the subject in different ways. This is contestable, of course, but such added effects drive people to learn, as in the case of artwork. Computer software programs can, for example, alter the mood of a painting so that, perhaps, views may draw something new from it, a means of creating knowledge through expanded understanding. The subject of visuals, then, takes on a life of its own and continues to grow as viewers continue to conceive it differently. With computer technology, subjects of research virtually become living, breathing beings with which anyone can engage on many levels—intellectual, emotional, psychological, personal, professional, cordial—just as s/he would with other human beings.

Simply put, imagery adds that ‘face’ to information that one would need when getting to know a new friend. Without that ‘face’, a major piece of the overall puzzle is lost, and learning about that subject, or that ‘new friend,’ is limited. In the end, images probably tell a greater story than texts do.

Next: Movies and why researchers and general viewers should not and cannot rely on them for ascertaining or confirming factual information.

Research: a Tribute to Titanic: a Century’s Struggle to Learn the Truth

This is Titanic Week, marking the ninety-ninth anniversary of the sinking, and so now the time is right to include a post about researching the Titanic. Flocks of enthusiasts and student researchers continuously seek information on that tragedy and the many people involved in it, so let’s hope that this post finds them drawn to read.

Whether rational or not, Titanic has attained the status of legend of sorts that stands out from many other ships and shipwrecks. The continuously growing community of experts and enthusiasts holds Titanic in its collective heart and keeps the stories as fresh and alive as they were nearly a century ago.

What more can be said about the ship and those on board her? Believe it or not, the stories haven’t yet finished unfolding. That’s the beauty of Titanic—it is limitless in her treasure trove of knowledge. Our long struggle to discover and learn more about her has continually brought forth a plethora of new insights not only with regard to the ship and her time period, but also how we conduct research. This process has not stopped.

When it comes to researching Titanic, the process has been life-long for me. As a boy, I found myself intrigued by the great ship and all the mysteries that abounded: How big/long was she? How many funnels did she have? What did she look like? Where, when and how did she sink? How many people were on her? Who were they and where were they from? Who died and who survived? Why did so few first-class perish compared to those in steerage? These and other questions drove me on.

The answers to these questions were at one time unknown, but continuing research has unearthed much of that information. Not surprising, such information has created a bit of controversy and debate among many: Was there a three-hundred-foot gash or was the damage nothing more than a series of tears and rivet pops? With regard to this damage, what developments impelled the Titanic to sink within two hours and forty minutes? What efforts were employed to render safety to passengers and seek help? Why wasn’t that enough? What could have been done differently to change the outcome?

And the questions keep on mounting. Ironically enough, this happens when one conducts research; the deeper we look into the subject and discuss it, the more questions arise. This serves as the natural cycle of ascertaining and building knowledge. The more questions we have, the further we go. There is never an end and likely never will be. That’s what keeps researchers like me interested—the game is in a constant shift, but it persists, and the mystery and intrigue remain throughout. As long as there are questions, people will struggle to find the answers.

One place to start would be obtaining a library’s worth of essential documentation: the transcripts (there are two—American and the subsequent British Board of Trade), birth/death certificates, passenger/crew and cargo manifests, ticket purchase receipts, diaries, personal letters, and deck plans, all of which are primary sources; and eyewitness testimonies, books, documentaries and discussion boards fall in second place due to their subjective nature (even though researchers obtain their information from primary sources et al., personal biases are likely to affect their accounts, and quite often conjecture is made [remember the ongoing questions?]).

Field experience, which I have discussed in earlier posts, is extremely important in Titanic’s story. In order for us as researchers to determine where Titanic went down, what condition she was in and how she sank, we had to get to the wreck of the ship and study it up close. The problems were multiple: (1) we didn’t even know where the ship was (Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall’s calculations put the sinking at 41/46N-50/14W, but that has since been proven false); (2) the wreck was at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, some two and a half miles down, which wasn’t easy to reach, much less to find in the first place; (3) the reliable technology needed to find and reach Titanic, wherever her location, was scarce, in its infant stages or untested; and (4) the costs required just to develop the technology, let alone mount a mission to find Titanic, would be unbelievably and staggeringly high. Several attempts have been made over the years to find her, but all failed. One millionaire, Jack Grimm, invested large amounts of money, but the research just wasn’t there to assure success. This is/was the Catch-22 of field investigation: the research requires money, but the money requires research. Which one would have to come first—the chicken or the egg? This was the unsolvable conundrum.

In the meantime, all we could do was speculate. This stirred the imaginations, but it did little for finding the desired answers and facts. The failure and our limitations motivated us, though, so, ironically enough, our failure to find the ship early on was a benefit to us. We assessed the situation and its complexities and strove about to rectify the issue.

One area on which we focused was the development of technology. Specialists in a variety of fields, from marine salvage to history to ship-building to naval architecture and oceanographic engineering, contributed their insight as to what would be necessary to safely find and reach the Titanic. Among the innovations that came about in this process were the use of sonar and the underwater submersible. Sonar was limited in its scope and detection capabilities, but it was enhanced to discern the differences in mass size and composition. The latter, submersibles, were already being used, but they never made a safe or successful descent to that extreme depth; these vehicles were able to go to a certain depth, but none had ever gone two and a half miles down. That was risky, not only with regards to air pressure, but also to equipment function (lights, gauges, camera and video), water pressure (at that depth, it was relentlessly strong and dense), and communication (would those at the bottom be able to communicate with those at the surface, etc.?). These technologies needed to be developed or enhanced further and tested as well before any attempts could be made. The cost would be in the millions.

See how important and involved, not to mention expensive, field research can be?

During the summer of 1985, Dr. Robert Ballard and his team of the prestigious Woods Hole Institute in Massachusetts, grouped with French underwater exploration, headed by Jean Louis Michel, set out to find Titanic. The area was vast and comprised of a large triangle established by three coordinates (Boxhall’s calculation, the Mount Temple’s estimation of Titanic’s location and the Carpathia). This would take several days, if not weeks. In late September of that year, while the night shift scanned the ocean floor, a large mass of metal triggered the signals. On closer inspection, the hulk of a huge ship came into view. It was the Titanic’s bow! Finally, the behemoth was found. What shocked the crew and Ballard was the fact that the ship abruptly ended around the region of the third funnel; everything aft of that point was gone. This confirmed the ongoing query—the ship had indeed broken apart on the night she sank. They found the stern a half-mile away, lying in a debris field; its shattered remains a sad sight to behold (most of the people who died were either on or inside the stern. Knowing this fact has causes many onlookers to silently cry while gazing upon this heap of splayed and twisted metal). Other discoveries included: (1) a third middle “section” was missing, which showed that the ship did not simply crack in two, but crumbled away as it broke apart, top-down and in a twisting motion, at the point of the aft expansion joint situated just aft of the third funnel (the aft-grand staircase was completely gone, leaving an exposed first-class smoking room and a set of reciprocating engines); (2) the decks were compressed flat, suggesting that the stern slammed hard into the bottom; (five boilers from BR #1 rested nearby, confirming that the break went through that room); (3) the hull was splayed out on the starboard side and the poop-deck peeled back over the docking bridge, indicating that the stern section first imploded and then exploded on its way down (the trapped air inside burst outward through the third-class stairwell and cargo hold #4, obliterating the well deck and sending the poop-deck backwards); and (4) the presence of five more boilers at the end of the bow section substantiated the theory that the boilers, in fact, did NOT blow up that night and were still embedded on their moorings. These findings are/were valuable, and would not have been possible to know had we not traveled to the bottom of the ocean to take a look. Field research, as said, is not only essential, but crucial, to gaining knowledge that would be inaccessible through any other means.

Further advancements were also set in place with regard to marine protocol. International Ice Patrols (ICPs) now constantly monitor the north Atlantic for icebergs. Of course, modern-day ship communications operate via computer systems, so reporting dangers is quicker and much more efficient than at the time of the Titanic. The vigils are therefore a combine effort. Another innovation—or law, to be more precise—was that all passenger ships MUST have enough lifeboats for everyone on boat (Titanic had only enough for approximately 1,200 people, a little over half of the 2,200 people the ship carried on her maiden voyage. The owners of the White Star Line placed luxury over safety, figuring that any dangers or threat to human well being would likely be minimal or non-existent. She was the largest ship in the world at the time, after all, at 883 feet in length. What could possibly happen? No one at that time ever said that Titanic was “unsinkable,” but it was likely assumed by many). Her sister ship, the Britannic, would later be redesigned with bulkheads going up to B-deck (Titanic’s only extended as high as E-deck, but it wasn’t high enough—the incoming water spilled over each bulkhead in “ice tray” fashion until the imbalance of weight created an excess of stress that caused the break). Unfortunately, the Britannic sank in 1916, as a hospital ship during World War I, but the damage incurred there was severer than that inflicted by Titanic. Still, the raised bulkheads gave the crew time to disembark before the ship sank. Had the bulkheads not gone as high as B-deck, the death toll would likely have been greater than the 30 it was).

As far as research goes, the Titanic and her demise have spurred on new forms. The technological developments one could argue as added research capabilities, since the Titanic would not have been found without it. Indeed, what was achieved pushed research capabilities at that time of the ship’s discovery. Jacques Cousteau had found the Britannic wreck only nine years prior, but that wasn’t the same—the hospital ship lie nowhere near the extreme depth as that of the Titanic, so its access was easier and less costly. Even then, in 1985, the idea of looking for something that deep was considered as somewhat risky—only a desire, a hope and a dream that, with ongoing diligence and persistence, paid off. This shows that success in research is due just as much to human ambition and ingenuity as much as it is to capability. The drive creates the need(s), which, in turn, brings about research insight and the advancements that reflect it.

My research methodology has expanded as well. When I was younger, looking up info was considered the extent of broadening one’s knowledge, but I have always been the one to ask questions, generate queries, to think critically about things. Only this way can we increase the scope of learning. Don’t settle with what is told to you, even if it is based on current findings; think for yourself and form your own conclusions. Diversity adds to the research and the growing body of knowledge. This doesn’t mean one should disbelieve or disregard the knowledge that’s out there, but, don’t accept that as the “all and the end” of what can be learned. That serves as a necessary base, that’s it. Always go further, and what I have discovered as a Titanic researcher is that there IS no end.

Titanic Research and the Media

The media has contributed to Titanic’s legendary status. This is especially true in the industry of entertainment. No other ship has generated as many books, documentaries or movies as the Titanic. New authors emerge all the time with fresh insights. The number of Titanic experts is still growing, and that would include James Cameron, a filmmaker by trade, who researched, produced and directed the latest incarnation in 1998, which is merely the latest in a series of seven movies (eight, if one considers survivor Dorothy Gibson’s 20-minute reel from 1912. No copies are known to exist, but it was made). The film won eleven academy awards, including Best Picture. This reflects an unwavering interest in Titanic. Although most viewers weren’t concerned with details, they were curious and became inspired by the great ship and her story.

That said, these movies do not reflect one-hundred percent accuracy, nor are they meant to do so; instead, they are products that (1) showcase a filmmaker’s perspective or beliefs, and (2) entertain. No movie made is factual to the detail, but more commercialized than anything else; that is, the purpose is to garner high numbers, both in ratings and in dollars, than to teach history.

A couple of examples revolve around the alleged suicide of First Officer Murdock and the Californian’s role in the tragedy. Several eyewitnesses from the Titanic recall hearing gunshots and seeing an officer slumped on the deck during the later hours when chaos reigned. Yes, a few named First Officer Murdock, but it has not been confirmed whether those individuals actually knew Murdock personally, and the limited lighting and excitement pounding at that point in time leave the question open as to the identity of the officer—or whether or not an officer actually shot himself. People have made mistakes before, and others have even mentioned Chief Officer Wilde in connection with this. No one knew for certain, except Murdock’s family who knew better than to believe he would commit suicide. His body was never found. We will never know. Still, the argument that he felt guilty over the Titanic’s collision with an iceberg during his shift is a compelling one, but it doesn’t confirm anything. Everything here is conjecture, and so the depiction of Murdock’s suicide in both Cameron’s film and the TV miniseries that preceded it a year before can only attest to the filmmakers’ respective beliefs, nothing more.

The Californian’s role in the story, too, is a continuous debate between those who believe this was the ship within visual distance during the sinking and those, called Lordites, who insist it wasn’t. The Californian never appeared in the “official” movie depiction, A Night to Remember, released in 1958 but Walter MacQuitty, who, as a boy, had actually witnessed the Titanic being launched back in 1912. That inspired him to no end. He knew better than to include such a controversial issue as that of the Californian’s questionable involvement in the sinking. Most other movies leave this account out as well and likely for similar reasons. Although many people believe it was the Californian there that night, no evidence exists to substantiate the claim one way or another. Stanley Lord’s log for that night places his ship at a set of coordinates considerably farther away from Titanic, so no one knows for sure. Yes, the nighttime crew saw a ship in the distance that shot rockets, but they couldn’t tell what ship it was and it could very well have been another. Again, nothing has been determined conclusively either way. As a researcher, I must remain objective and weigh all arguments evenly; without evidence, I cannot form any definite assessment. That would be irresponsible.

Art is a wonderful thing (I am an artist and creative writer myself), but the built-up drama and suspense for the sake of art cannot serve as a viable source for showcasing fact when expressing fact is not an objective of the movie. These movies, though, DO add a visual depiction of the Titanic and her story that inspires one to imagine what it was like being aboard her during her voyage and her sinking. That’s the extent of how far research goes.

The media has always sensationalized Titanic. But though the story warrants recognition, the hype it receives serves to excite readers for the wrong reasons. One must remember that magazines and other commercial publications are in the business to first sell. People are drawn out of interest, are intrigued, but they gain a superficial impression of the ship and her story that is based on little sensibility and is more legend than reality so that all, or most, credibility is either minimized or lost. The truth about Titanic is enough to give it strength; when that truth, whatever it might be, is approached with a sense of rationality and sensitivity, the legend stands up for what it actually is and acquires its rightful stance.

Conclusion

As the Titanic fades off into the past upon its centennial anniversary (coming up next year), its light remain strong and steady. The great ship won’t let us forget who she was and why she existed. So many stories ring continuously through our minds non-stop. . . The band playing “till the end” (which is true, depending on what one means by “the end.” If it refers to the point where the ship took a perilous slant and chaos reigned, then yes; if it refers to the point when the stern went under, then no); Molly Brown quipping about going out and retrieving ice on the deck for her late-night drink; Ida Straus refusing a seat in lifeboat #8 in order to stay behind with her husband, Isador (she was one of only five first-class females to perish that night); W.T. Stead reading his book in the first class smoking room all during the sinking; Benjamin Guggenheim casting his lifebelt aside and insisting on “going down like a gentleman,” along with his valet; P. Fletcher charging his bugle before every meal; John Phillips, the head wireless operator, persisting the calls, even after the captain released him and water began flooding the room; the battle between Molly Brown and Robert Hitchens (who had been at the wheel at the time of Titanic’s collision with the iceberg) in lifeboat #6 as they argued whether or not to go back and rescue people from the water; Fifth Officer Lowe forming a flotilla with lifeboats 4, 10, 12 and Collapsible D, then returning with a few volunteers in lifeboat 14 to rescue people in the water after the Titanic sank, only to find most dead (he saved a handful of people, including a first class man, a Japanese who had been strapped to a door, and a steward); the multitude of people who screamed into the night as they died horribly, among them several third-class families such as the Goodwins and Sages . . . There are countless stories, too many to mention here—many of them true, others skewered over the years—but the spirit of the Titanic shines through and penetrates us. We continue to reflect, yearn to know what really happened, long after every survivor has passed on. Its allure doesn’t weaken as long as her story is shared—her real story.

That’s where the research comes in . . . .