Overcompensation: The True Story of John Smith

In the 2001 children’s movie, “Shrek,” the title character spots the castle of Lord Farquaad and turns to his friend, Donkey, asking, “Do you think maybe he’s compensating for something?” One must approach the works of John Smith with much the same attitude, taking his amusing anecdotes with the proverbial grain of salt. In many of his writings, Smith steps out of the role of narrator, and becomes a storyteller, casting himself as the fearless explorer, sage political figure, or hero. Smith becomes the epitome of a “manly man,” a well calculated depiction crafted to not only engage the reader and perpetuate an interest in colonization, but to aid Smith in regaining a sense of manliness after a crippling and mysterious injury.

Many critics of Smith have agreed that if nothing else, he provided a very accurate record of the Native American culture, with some scholars calling him, “one of early America’s best ethnographers.” (Lepore 45) However, because of his inflammatory language and colorful recollection of significant events, Smith’s work has been discredited as self-aggrandizing storytelling, a far cry from the historian he made himself out to be. Instead of providing a dry, matter-of-fact account of Jamestown’s colonization, Smith frequently refers to himself in the third person when recounting his many adventures, painting himself as a fearless explorer, wise politician, or a good old fashioned hero.

Describing a skirmish with the Powhatan tribe at the head of the Chickahominy River, Smith writes:

“…finding he [Smith] was beset with 200 savages, two of them he slew, still defending himself with the aid of a savage his guide, whom he bound to his arm with his garters and used him as a buckler, yet he was shot in this thigh a little, and had many arrows that stuck in his clothes but no great hurt, till at last, they took him prisoner.” (Smith 60)

While certainly a fascinating story, Smith singlehandedly battling two-hundred Native Americans and emerging unscathed is extremely unlikely. Whether a deliberate or coincidental allusion, Smith’s account resembles a depiction of Achilles, the immortal Greek demi-god who emerged from every battle without a scratch. This episode exemplifies Smith desire to depict himself as a fearless explorer, braving massive attacks by savages to extend the borders of his colony, and emerging triumphant.

Aside from his exploits as a fearless explorer, Smith attempts to convince readers of his merits as a wise politician. The text of A Description of New England reads like the speech of a political candidate, describing every one of Jamestown’s afflictions and proposing a solution to them. Smith suggests hard work and motivation are the most obvious ways to amass wealth and avoid starvation. Of course, Smith says little of other factors attributing to the misfortune of colonists including the mismanagement of resources by governors, poor yield and a lack of skilled workers. Smith also touts his skills as an ambassador to the Native Americans. During his imprisonment by the Powhatan tribe, Smith claims he prevented an attack on Jamestown, and won over the natives so thoroughly, that they “admired him more than their own Quiyoughkasoucks [priests]” (Smith 61) While it is indeed possible that Smith may have earned the trust, and perhaps even friendship, of the Powhatans, it is sacrilegious for him to align himself with

As Smith would tell it, he is the epitome of manliness – brave, strong, intelligent, and a brilliant problem solver. One must question Smith’s motives and his obsession with self-aggradation, wondering what purpose his boastful storytelling could possibly serve. At a time when the New World was still a mystery to those in Europe, first person accounts were critical in developing public opinion. An epic and exciting narrative such as Smith’s would undoubtedly stir feels of patriotism in the hearts of the general public, as well as piquing the interest of wealthy investors. After his return to England, Smith found himself missing the New World he had helped found. His stirring record of events prompted several colonization-minded groups and investors to make plans to sail for America. Without Smith’s stirring depictions of the New World, these voyages would never have been funded, and the settlement of America would have failed.

Aside from assuring the success of European colonization in North America, Smith’s writings also served a much more personal purpose. After his genitalia were severely burned when his gunpowder keg exploded in his lap, it would be reasonable to assume that Smith began to struggle with the figurative and literal loss of his manhood. His literary crowing and larger than life self-portrayal, while having the effect of perpetuating more colonization, were ultimately devices Smith employed to compensate for his unfortunate situation. Adding insult to injury, when the Puritans journeyed to America, they declined Smith’s offer to accompany them, forcing him to “be content with giving them armchair advice, a role he despised.” (Lepore 45) Smith never took a wife or fathered any children, a fact which Jill Lapore attributes to his injury in her article, “Our Town.” Alone, with his brilliant career now a thing of the past, Smith used his writing to bolster his self-esteem.

While Smith’s writing certainly does have its merits, one of the most enigmatic figures in American history had ulterior motives when it came to documenting the colonization of Virginia. Keeping his exaggeratory and self-aggrandizing tendencies in mind, one must read Smith’s writing critically. It is important to remember that while his writings are important historical documents, Smith may not have been quite the brave hearted explorer or sage political figure he makes himself out to be. The picture Smith paints of himself via storytelling serves the dual purpose of perpetuating an interest in New World colonialism, as well as aiding him is reestablishing his male identity. Smith’s story is one of adventure, treachery and overcompensation.

Works Cited
Lepore, Jill. “Our Town.” The New Yorker 2 Apr. 2007: 40-45. Print.

Smith, John. . The Norton Anthology of American Literature. Ed. Baym Nina. 7th ed. Vol. A. New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc., 2007. 55-72. Print.


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