Free Press – Author Sarah Angleton

Many things likely happened in the year 1404. Numerous babies took their first breaths and plenty of people surely took their last. Battles were waged and both won and lost. Some powerful people became more powerful, while the power of others began to decline. And in Korea, the second king of the Joseon Dynasty, King Taejong, fell off his horse.

Taejong was on a deer hunt when it happened. As he drew his bow, his horse stumbled and the king took a tumble. History knows of the incident because of the Veritable Records, an important feature of the Joseon Dynasty, the last royal house to rule Korea. The records, written in Classical Chinese, were maintained by hired historians tasked with extensive and entirely neutral preservation of events related to the monarchy and the state.

And I mean the truth is, if Taejong hadn’t asked the historians not to write about the fall, they still might have, but we probably wouldn’t be talking about it 620 years later. Image by Joachim_Marian_Winkler from Pixabay

Historians in this role were guaranteed legal protection from the king for what they wrote, and in fact, he wasn’t allowed to see them at all. Only other historians could take a look. They were sworn to secrecy and faced severe punishment if they failed to keep it under wraps. To avoid any potential royal interference, the documents remained sealed until after the king’s death and the new king’s coronation.

So when Taejong fell from his horse that fateful day, we not only know that it happened, but we also know that he tried to hide it from the historians. Because they wrote about that part, too.

It’s an astonishing story, not that a powerful man fell from his horse, as I’m sure that could happen to anyone. And not that a powerful man would want to hide an embarrassing incident from history. But that powerful people believed so firmly in the importance of free and accurate reporting that they took pains to ensure it could happen, even when it meant they might wind up being the butt of the joke.

The Veritable Records are now digitized. With the exception of the those of the last two Joseon monarchs, which are believed to have been unduly influenced by the Japanese and are considered less reliable, they are part of the National Treasures of South Korea, and are included in the Memory of the World register of the the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO).

I’m cynical enough not to suggest that the Veritable Records are one hundred percent impartial. History is, after all, always written from the perspective of whatever imperfect human recorded it. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me if the story was thrown in just to lend credibility to the rest.

Um, yeah. Probably not. Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

But I still find it astonishing from a modern perspective. Because today it’s not uncommon to find out that a story that could show a powerful person in a bad light has been ignored, suppressed, or tweaked by an allegedly free press to suggest a secret organization of assassin horse trainers clearly has it out for a powerful person. Probably because the powerful person is racist. Or something.

Or, just as bad, that this allegedly free press has amplified, distorted, or misrepresented a story in order to make it seem like a tumble from a horse might just be a character-revealing act of animal cruelty by a person undeserving of power. And who is also probably a racist. Or something.

It’s a confusing place to be as a society, not to know if there are any trustworthy media sources out there, free from influence of the powerful attempting to control the flow of information to those of us schlubs that make up the confused masses.

I’m just cynical enough to believe that there aren’t.

On May 7, 1912, a few months after the death of Joseph Pulitzer, Columbia University set the plans in motion for establishing the Pulitzer Prize as stipulated in the journalist’s will. Five years later, on June 4, 1917 the Prize Board named the first recipients of that honor, awarding prizes in four categories: history, biography, reporting, and newspaper editorial.

Born in Mako, Hungary, the well educated Joseph Pulitzer fell into his journalism career the way most people do, by well-timed networking at a public chess match. But it wasn’t luck that brought him success as the owner of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and later as owner of The New York World.

Joesph Pulitzer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

It was hard work and the kind of business savvy that pairs hard news with sensationalized stories, exaggerations, and occasionally stuff that’s just plain made up. And it was also his unfailing belief that a free press and the freedom of creative expression was central to the success of a free society. He once stated, “Our Republic and its press will rise or fall together. An able, disinterested, public-spirited press, with trained intelligence to know the right and courage to do it, can preserve that public virtue without which popular government is a sham and a mockery.”

For Pulitzer, free expression and a free press would always be the watchdog that would protect people from government abuses, calling to account politicians who act in their own interest rather than that of the nation they represent. His ideals stand firmly against suppression of speech, whether deemed prudent or not, and demand that all voices can be heard.

And so he established a school for journalism and a system for awarding excellence in journalism and other creative pursuits, with a particular emphasis on works that in some way serve the betterment of humanity, particularly exposure of government corruption and injustice.

Pulitzer also had the foresight to recognize that society would evolve over the years and so he gave the Board authority to expand the award categories as they deemed appropriate. Since the award was first established, it’s expanded at various times to include, among other things, telegraphic reporting, poetry, music, and feature photography. And since 1995, it’s been adapting to the expansion of online news outlets.

Even so, to the best of my knowledge, there is not yet a category for independent practical history blogs, despite the fact that they tend to pair history with sensational stories, exaggerations, and occasionally stuff that’s just plain made up. And who knows, they may even lead to the betterment of humanity.

But that’s okay, because bloggers are pretty good about recognizing the efforts of other bloggers. Of course blogs cover a wide variety of topics and there are about a million different reasons a writer might turn to blogging. But whatever the purpose, a blog is an unfettered creative outlet with the potential to influence society. We should recognize one another in our creative efforts.

That's prettier than a Pulitzer medal. — That’s prettier than a Pulitzer medal.

That’s why I am extremely grateful, on this 103rd anniversary of the day Columbia University first approved plans to establish the Pulitzer Prize and in this week when I celebrate the third anniversary of my silly little blog, to accept the Creative Blogger Award.

Like most blog awards this one comes with a few rules. First, thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog. Second, share five things about yourself. Third, nominate 10 -15 more creative blogs.

Thank you very much to Susan Roberts of Susan’s Musings for the kind nomination.

Five things about me:

1. My fourth grader’s teacher sends an e-mail every week asking parents to remind students they need to practice their recorders. I’ve never reminded him. Not once. And I never will.

2. I once spent a few months working as a dog trainer for a major pet supply retailer. At the time I was a cat person. Actually I still am a cat person. Seriously, it’s a strong preference. Just don’t tell my dog because it would hurt his feelings and he’s pretty sweet.

3. When I was sixteen, my grandmother offered me a piece of sage advice. She said, “If you have to fall in love and marry someone, he might as well be a farmer.” My husband isn’t a farmer, but Grandma always liked him anyway.

4. I read a lot of literary fiction, upscale historical fiction, and narrative nonfiction, but I have a serious weakness for young adult dystopian fiction. I can’t help myself. It doesn’t even have to be well written. And I will set aside just about any great literary work currently on my “to read” shelf in favor of one.

5. The very first home cooked meal I made after my husband and I were married was macaroni and cheese. From a box. He thanked me and ate it with a smile. Now that’s a keeper! And thankfully, I have since become a better cook. Though my kids still prefer the boxed mac ‘n’ cheese.

Nominees:

Victo Dolore

I Didn’t Have My Glasses On

Childhood Relived

Know-It-All

Notes From a Hermitage

Loni Found Herself

Russel Ray Photos

Ponies and Martinis

The Armchair Sommelier

Storyshucker