As some of you may be aware, I have started a PhD September 2021. I’m exploring the marginalisation and morals of women and pirates in the 18th century. Two of the questions I was asked, is why pirates? And why the eighteenth century?
The thing is, that’s a hard question to answer. Simply because it asks others—what causes someone to have an interest? Why do we have interests?
Why is it that when I look at blue, I find it prettier than other colours… especially, for some odd reason, more than yellow? And why is it another individual will have the reverse or another mix all together?
It’s quite difficult questions to answer, but there must be answers. The only thing I can think is experiences.
I know why I like polar bears. I have Ice Fire by Chris De Lacey to thank for that. In Ice Fire De Lacey mixes in facts with lore. Once brown bears, they became polar bears due to wisdom… and they’re all left pawed! As a left-handed person living in a right-handed world, this was important to me.
But why am I drawn to pirates?
I can pinpoint when I noticed my interest, although it may not have been the start. It was in year seven (11 years old), Mrs Murdock, my English teacher, bought the Pirates of the Caribbean DVD in for us during Christmas. I watched the film, glued to the screen. The minute Elizabeth fell from the castle walls, into the sea, and summoned the crew of the Black Pearl, I was immersed.
As classes were only an hour long, I have no idea how we watched the full film. Maybe it was a double class, or maybe we watched it in two days, but however it happened, I needed the other (then three) films. My mother took me to sainsbury’s after school. I wasn’t particularly looking for them, but I spotted the set on the self and it is one of the few occasions I remember asking my mom if I could have something.
But what drew me to the series?
If I am honest, I don’t know. I don’t think it was just one thing though. I remember sitting and analysing watching how William and Jack moved their feet as they fought. Remember the feeling of been transported into their world under the glow of their candles. And then there was the characters. William Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow and… Hector Barbossa.
What I am finding often is that audiences are rarely drawn to the protagonist, but the characters around the protagonist. For me, this was Hector Barbossa, and later, Davy Jones. My two favourite characters were the ones that were seen as villains. Looking at it, looking at their arc, I think I am beginning to understand why. Both these characters are seen as bad. And yeah, they’re not good people but they don’t deny that. Still, even though they’re not good people you can see the struggles within them and the complexity.
Hector Barbossa
Hector, throughout the series, is constantly shown to be intelligent. He uses words, sentences and complex structures even the governor’s daughter is not familiar with. It is these complex structures and his understanding on the English language that aids him to find loopholes in the deals he strikes. Yet, despite his intelligence, he is a thief and murderer. With honour.
When Elizabeth embarks on the Black Pearl, claiming Parlay, he upholds the code even when he says that he didn’t have to. She wasn’t a pirate. Later, in the final (currently) film of the franchise, the audience learn a tidbit (and I do mean tidbit) more of his past that raises the question as to whether he was fully happy with his choice to be a pirate or whether he wished he took another possible path.
Davy Jones
Davy Jones isn’t a fabricated character invented by Disney. Many stories use the character and the sailor’s phrase: Davy Jones’s Locker.
Little Fact about the Myth of Davy Jones
Davy Jones’s Locker was known as the devil of the sea. In contrast Tir-fa-toun or The Land Beneath the Seas, was seen as the haven of the sea, possibly linked to stories such as Atlantis. Tir-fa-toun was believed to rise from the sea depths every seven years and would remain above if anyone could throw fire onto it. Davy Jones and Tir-fa-toun could arguably be sailors version of heaven and hell.
Like Barbossa, I liked Davy Jones. He wasn’t as complicated. Human man made immortal by the goddess he fell in love with and lost his heart in the process. But… emotionally, he didn’t. At least, not for the goddess. Even without his heart physically inside him, he felt the love for the goddess when she was close. His actions to mortal humans were through the anger of being abandoned by his love.
Own interest in Pirates
I think, what this showed me is that the films drew me in because of the characters. How they reacted. Barbossa’s complexity and rounded character intrigued me, and the heartless Davy Jones’s ability to feel pulled on this too. The men were free in the sea, but I don’t think they were free from their selves. Looking at the films as an adult, I can’t help but wonder if Jones loathed himself and whether that was one aspect of his cruel behaviour.
I also think it explains my interest in morals slightly. Barbossa, despite being a pirate, still upheld the code. He was moral to an extent, even though he could arguably be worse than Jack in the actions he takes—such as having no quarm killing a woman if it frees him and his men. And again, Davy Jones acts bad, but what were his morals?
He certainly had duties that he failed to deliver. Did that make him immoral? Was he immoral? He gave Jack the chance and time to barter with something else, after all. It was Jack who decided that one of the people he’d give Davy Jones was William… without telling William that is what he was doing.
I think Pirates of the Carribbean probably drew me in because it’s hard to know who the good people were. The redcoats (us) were certainly not painted in light… in fact, the film makes us Brits look a bit dim. Jack and his crew weren’t exactly good either. Nor were the protagonists or villains.
So again, why pirates?
We think of pirates as outlaws, uncivil, cruel, brutal, murders. But really, they weren’t this things. Not in the way we picture them. Many of them were navy men who had mutineered after the navy had seen them scarred and disfigured—their shipmates may not have been so lucky to avoid Davy Jones Locker. Each pirate signed a contract known as the pirate code—but it was voluntary, no one put a coin in their glass and carted them away… like the navy did. They didn’t whip one another, they were fair, they had health insurance, family inheritance. Everyone had equal pay. Women were in the ‘masculine sphere.’ They were… different.
Different is bad. It is to be feared. Governments wanted to get rid of this fair social treatment of people.
Best way to do that? Tell people that a pirate will be brutal and murder you. Pirates did kill, but rarely, if you gave them the plunder without a fight they’d mostly leave you alone. If you were cruel to your crew, well… they kill you on your crew’s behalf. But they didn’t like killing if they didn’t have to.
The association of disability is strong with pirates. Peg legs, hooked hands, mutes. And while the British may have succeeded in eradicating the “Golden Pirates” within twelve years, disabled people are still here.
In the 21st century, disabled people are outcasts in society. That’s not to say that everyone is ablest. They’re not… at least, not the individual. Society is.
Society locks disabled people out.
21st century outcasts
Since 2013 in the UK (and prior to that in the US [date unknown to me]) disabled people have had to fight for every penny that they have that’s meant to help them be independent. It’s not a fair fight. In the UK, there is a benefit known as PIP (similar to social security disability benefit in the US). Medical evidence isn’t considered proof. It’s how you perform and look on the day they see you, for one hour. In one hour, the assessor determines whether they believe you are disabled or not. Sure, they don’t actually take away the medical diagnosis, but they’ll simply say you’re independent enough.
In my assessment, I went mute through stress. And when she asked me to stand on one foot I nearly fell over. She and dad had to catch me. Without seeing me cook, she deemed me able to cook. Without seeing me walk outside, she deemed I could walk without pain. That I could wash without seeing me do it. All in an hour. My answers, when I could talk, was disregarded. I was made to feel less than human. Unnatural.
When I got the decision my mind broke. I started doubting myself. Had most of my life been a lie?
That comes to the self-fulfilling prophecy again. She told me I wasn’t disabled, not directly but through her decision. And although part of me knew different, I had been fighting inequality for so long, I couldn’t help but question.
Trapped and Free
I was trapped and free. Free and trapped. Trapped by the idea of what disability is and what it isn’t. By the low expectations of disabled people, the expectation of normality by society. And I was free because of the low expectations society had of me, just like the low expectations they had for pirates. They deemed disabled people to not do well.
My assessor even put on the decision that if I was as disabled as I said, I’d not attend university or drive. This is the societal message I and many others have received. And this gives freedom as the bar’s low. We’re already judged by society as not worth much. Judgement on how we dress or eat is just a smudge on the icing. Conforming to when you should have a job, when you should have a family is less on the radar. But also getting a job is less likely.
Subtle Discrimination
Sure, companies shouldn’t discriminate. Doesn’t mean they don’t. Not every job does this. I was lucky in 2019. I got a job at Solvay and they didn’t give a monkey whether I was disabled or not so long as I could do the job. But many of my friends have struggled to find jobs themselves, even with work experience and a degree while I’ve seen others without experience find jobs with ease.
There are two reasons why that could happen. They chose not to employ the disabled person just because, or the place isn’t accessible enough. Both are forms of discrimination. Both make the disabled person an outcast. I think that’s one of the reasons I like academia so much. It is one of the few societal constructs that accepts me and accessible.
I think this also answers why history?
Through looking at the history of pirates (and of women) I can see the discrimination that was present then and still present now. What had we learned in the last 3 centuries? What has changed? One of the questions on my mind right now is, have we changed or have we just shifted to something else?
Final Thoughts
For me, pirates are not only the adventurous, action driven, misunderstood people we see on screen, like Jack Sparrow. They’re not just thieves and scroungers with no education and no connections but a more in-depth meaning. They are disabled people today. Disabled people are seen as scroungers of the benefit system. Seen as isolates, friendless, uneducated, dumb. Pirates are someone I can relate to. My PhD discusses pirates, women and disability in depth.