MAY 9, 2020 – I’m pleased to announce that I’ve now slogged through 59 installments of the 60-episode Netflix series, Bolívar. I’m saving the final segment for some special occasion—perhaps the return of democracy and economic prosperity to El Libertado’s homeland, Venezuela. Actually, I know how the story ends: Bolívar dies and all goes to ruin.
So what does a fan of Bolívar, if not of Bolívar, do? Exactly! He follows The Borgias—another Netflix series, this one about . . . you guessed it—the Borgias. Since there’s no popular book entitled Bolívar or The Borgias, I can’t compare film to “book.” Perhaps, however, I’m allowed a film vs. “reality” contrast.
Except–as the student of history discovers, “reality” is elusive.
What’s the “true” legacy of Simón Bolívar, the Creole (of Spanish heritage born and reared in Spanish America) who liberated much of South America from royal Spanish forces and the “Peninsulares” (representatives of the crown, who were born and reared in Spain)? As with all larger than life historical figures, the truth of Bolívar lies between the heroic images cast in bronze in Caracas and the depiction by revisionist historians with modern axes to grind. Bolívar had backbone, perseverance to a fault, and a caring regard for people of unfortunate placement in the social order. He was intelligent, well educated, and—let’s be generous—well-intentioned. But he also bit off more than he could digest—for lack of resources or ineptitude in marshaling them.
I understand if the reader believes that until I’ve read a book about Bolívar, I haven’t license to write about him, negative or positive. Rest assured, however, that until I devour a book or two about the George Washington of Gran Columbia, I’m making “interim arrangements.” I’ve begun the six-part (each 45 minutes long) podcasts about Bolívar in Michael Duncan’s punchy, gripping, informative, comprehensive, and fully accessible series called, Revolution.
Now the Borgias. I knew less about them than I had about Bolívar, though in credit to self, at least I’d heard of them. In the Netflix series, I’m learning details. Thus far the film facts track reality—my source thus far being limited to Wikipedia. Jeremy Irons stars in the lead role of Rodrigo Borgia, a/k/a Pope Alexander VI, who served as “Vicar of Christ” from 1492 to 1503. He (the Pope; Irons is just the actor) had many lovers and two sons (yes—we are talking the “Vicar of Christ” here): Juan—the dumb and openly vicious one whom the viewer learns to hate—and Cesare, the smart, strategic, and more discriminatingly murderous one whom the viewer (influenced by Greek tragedies) learns to approve as a “flawed hero.” Filling notable supporting roles are Niccolo Machiavelli, Giovanni Medici, and King Charles VIII of France, along with many other real-life characters.
If Simón Bolívar and his times merit at least four-and-a-half hours of podcast time, the Borgias and their times deserve a lifetime of study. But for now, it’s popcorn time, thanks to Netflix in our times.
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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson
