The cinema : 1952 (1952)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

ROBERT FLAHERTY The Story of Comock the Eskimo When Robert Flaherty visited Britain during the winter of 1949-50 he recorded a series of talks for the B.B.C. in which he told the true story of Comock, an Eskimo who lived with his family on the north-east coast of the Hudson Bay. Flaherty heard this story while he was living as an explorer in the Eskimo country, at the same time as he was making his first film, Nanook of the North. Flaherty's great quality as a storyteller lives in this tale: we are grateful to Frances Flaherty and to the B.B.C. for permitting its publication. During my ten years in the north I saw a great deal of the Eskimoes. I made many long expeditions on which they were my only companions. Anyone with such an experience with them would be bound to admire them. They're the most human people I have ever known. To me it was always a wonderful experience after a long day's sledging on the seaice in the bitter cold to sight an encampment of Eskimo igloos at the end of the day's journey. When I arrived and crawled through the long tunnel into their igloos they would vie with one another to take care of me. Even the littlest child would put out its bare arm from the hood of its mother's koolitah and with a smile shake hands. Any least little thing I gave them, they would exclaim over as if it were a fortune. I always took candy with me. As soon as the word 'Sweetie' went around they would pack the igloo I had been put up in to suffocation. I would throw the candy