If it is true that ‘journalists and politicians are taking over the writing of history perhaps we might ask why. Could it be because academic historians have become increasingly specialised, focusing on very small areas of study, often in limited geographical areas, e.g. ‘the effect of contagious diseases on the leatherworkers in south east Somerset 1550-1600’ that are of interest to a very limited audience? This might be a reflection of the way history has been taught in schools for some years now, with the emphasis on the small scale, the move away from a focus on the achievements of heroic individuals towards a sharper concentration on the minutiae of the everyday lives of ordinary people. Daily life in another age can have its fascinations, but if it is not set in context, with pupils having some understanding of the broad sweep of history, of the movements, personalities, influences and spirit that shaped succeeding historical periods, something very fundamental is lost. I am disturbed that history, even in universities, is taught in discrete ‘modules’, often having little connection to each other, when the most cursory examination of the past will reveal the ‘connectedness’ of history, even though in many areas of human experience, this paradoxically involves disconnection: one age will react against the mores, artistic tastes, political certainties etc. of the preceding one. I do think that one needs some understanding of the over-arching view before homing in to focus on minutiae. Whereas science tends to move from the particular to the general, the humanities need to focus first on acquiring a broad understanding of the general before concentrating on the particular.
History is not an exact study: the materials the historian has to work with are often incomplete. Organising a convincing argument will often require something beyond the mere presentation of evidence: there is such a thing as a ‘nose’ or a flair, often deriving from a humane sympathy with individuals, an ability to deduce motives, or to force a re-consideration of previously-held convictions even if they cannot be conclusively overturned. Such skills are not the exclusive prerogative of the academic historian. Anyone who writes, be they enthusiast, journalist or politician, needs to be aware how to sift evidence, to evaluate sources, to construct a convincing argument, and many of them succeed splendidly in that endeavour, and bring also the additional attributes noted above which are often lacking in the work of academic historians. Kate Summerscale, for example, not an historian, but a journalist, has written a wonderful book, ‘The Suspicions of Mr Whicher’ in which she re-examines a notorious murder in the Victorian era. Not only does she skilfully reconstruct the case through a careful examination of all the existing evidence and explore the personalities involved, she sets the whole in the social context of repressive and often explosive Victorian family life; produces a study of the increased emphasis on police detection and how its constituent skills were noted and absorbed by the literary conventions of the day giving rise to the new genre of detective fiction. She combines historical rigour and exact research with imaginative sympathy, a sharp eye for the frailties of human nature and a broad historical view that allows her to interweave many different strands into a coherent whole. And she can write. Which brings me to a further point:
that is, the appalling quality of much academic writing. Simplicity is often anathema; opacity and convolution are employed to give a spurious weight and authority. The result is dull, almost lifeless. On another thread, I referred to an art history paper on the use of the eye in miniature portraits during the 18th century. The observations were new and interesting, but essentially simple in concept. The paper, however, encased the argument in an elaborate and pretentious language that was both tedious and ridiculous. This inelegance seems not to be the result of incompetence but an academic requirement. A young friend of mine has just been awarded a Ph.D. – but only after he re-wrote much of the work, at the instigation of his supervisor, not because the evidence or conclusions were faulty or inadequate but merely to ‘dress up’ his findings in grandiose academic language.
Unless academic historians can free themselves from the restrictions of narrow areas of study and an obsession with ‘rigour’ in a subject that is not always susceptible to it, and where intelligent speculation has a role to play; unless they can free themselves from a paralysed language that bears no relation to any known literary convention beyond its own narrow confines; and unless they realise that the interpretation of history demands not simply fact-grubbing and compilation but insight, imagination and an ability to make connections – they will be condemned to cerebral incest, confined in their ivory towers, while the journalists and other enthusiasts inform the minds and capture the hearts of the literary public.
_________________ Anna
Last edited by tycho on Thu Apr 16, 2009 5:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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