Becoming the compost heap

I have long said that I don’t watch dramatised versions of historical tragedies. I’ve never watched Twelve Years a Slave, I’ve avoided Schindler’s List, and even Slumdog Millionaire, for all its heartwarming glow was a one-time watch only for me. I have explained this, to myself and others, not as an unwillingness to face the most heartbreaking parts of humanity, but on the contrary - that I don’t need to subject myself to acted depictions of these events and circumstances, complete with carefully crafted editing and stirring musical scores designed to stimulate emotion, to feel. That I would rather read first-hand or historical accounts, that lay out the facts, hold the Hollywood-ised manipulation.