Part of the Reason why Umamusume Pretty Derby has so powerfully engaged my curiosity, is not merely that it recounts the annals of horse-racing under a fantastick disguise, but that it has rendered familiar unto the vulgar a little commonwealth, long confined to the devotion of a few zealots, abounding with its own ceremonies, quarrels, traditions, and heroes. It seems, therefore, that the defect lay never in the subject, but as Miss Gold Ship would say, in its "presentation". I cannot but suspect that the same observation extends to a thousand other obscure provinces of human knowledge, and not to the history of horse-racing alone.
There prevails, especially in our modern historical representations, a false opposition betwixt instruction and delight; as though the historian and the poet were born irreconcileable enemies, and truth must necessarily expire wherever beauty entereth. One sort sacrifices all spirit upon the altar of accuracy, and leaves us a chronicle so cold that it might serve as well for a ledger; another, impatient of restraint, casts history aside altogether, and adorns fiction with borrowed names. Neither extreme can long satisfy any mind that desires both to know and to feel. I have no great charity for the contrivance of The Patriot (2000); its plot too frequently proceedes less by reason than by convenience. Yet Justice compelles me to confess that it possesses moments of genuine affection, characters who breathe with something of human warmth, and moments that awaken the passions with no inconsiderable force. On the other hand, many worthy friends of mine would account it little less than heresy to observe that the production of Waterloo (1970), notwithstanding the majesty of its spectacle and its uncommon fidelity to the circumstances of history, is often served by a screenplay of awkward motion, together with a direction and disposition of scenes so disjointed that an uninformed audience would bemoan needing footnotes for every scene.
Yet I cannot persuade myself that this defect proceeds from any natural infirmity in historical writing itself. The fault resides not in the subject, but the ability and talent of the artist to reconcile the twin pursuits of pleasure and instruction. Why then hath the happy union so seldom been accomplished? Why are works that are at once faithful, moving, and excellently composed so rare, that they are received almost as prodigies? Upon this head I entertain several suspicions. I believe the ordinary failures of historical media spring less from necessity than from certain habits, prejudices, and fashionable errors, which have, by frequent practice, acquired the authority of rules. But these reflections are yet too crude for publication, and so I shall reserve them until time hath given them a little more ripeness.
アメリカですらヒットが難しいジャンル戦列歩兵。
広めるために創作・連載する身として真剣に議論したい大きなテーマ。ヒットしたのパトリオットくらいか?