Subject: The end of (narrative) history From: "Al Magary"Date: Wed, 6 Feb 2002 01:45:51 -0800 To: , Chuck Glasheen, evidently a non-uniformed, part-time medievalist like myself, asks what has happened to good old-fashioned narrative history. Where indeed are the authoritative books that used to come from renowned academicians, magisterial works that could be on the bestseller list yet earn their authors Nobel Prizes or seats in the House of Lords or the presidencies of important universities or nations? Where are today's Gibbon and Macaulay and Trevelyan, Churchill and Toynbee, Trevor-Roper and Taylor and Runciman, Parkman and Henry Adams, Morison and Commager and Nevins? Where are the presidents who wrote big history (with their own pens), like Jefferson, TR, Wilson, and JFK? Several generations produced not only respected generalists--makers of narrative history; they themselves often became great men (and a few great women) for the same breadth of mind and command of language, then they helped make more history. To put it in the language of our times, that was then, this is now. Can anyone imagine anyone with "historian" high on his list of credentials being elected to Congress or Parliament much less being elected President or made Prime Minister? Not likely, because there is a tiny number of narrative historians who make the bestseller list and remain highly esteemed, such as David M. Kennedy and James M. McPherson. Those who attempt sweeping narratives such as J.M. Roberts, Simon Schama, and Norman Davies are, unfortunately, subject to many negative reviews on their ambition alone; producers of smaller-scale narratives such as Stephen Ambrose--well, I won't go there; and world-scale interpreters, the would-be Toynbees, who sell many books these days are often scientists, such as Jared Diamond, or environmentalist politicians like Al Gore, or economic historians like David Landes. Who killed narrative history? Some may blame publishing's blockbuster mentality, which makes a few books megasellers while letting the rest sell hundreds at $29.95 before being remaindered for $2.98. Some may blame our celebrity culture, which insists that people who want to capture public attention with ideas and Stuff from the Past be telegenic actors like Michael Beschloss, Doris Kearns Goodwin, or David McCullough (some like Schama shouldn't have answered the casting call) or one-man industries like Ambrose. Many more will blame the invasion of French theorists in English and history departments, or the tyranny of multiculturalism and the politics of identity, for stripping history (and literary criticism too) of their romantic costumes and pretensions to authority and narrative, leaving the halls of ivy 10 feet deep in blood and unreadable monographs. Many in academia will turn around and blame the public for abandoning self-education for self-improvement, and certainly for its short attention span. Blah, blah. One could write a book. For myself, I attribute the decline of narrative history to the world's becoming more complex, sophisticated, and--yes--cynical. Would Macaulay today dare write a multivolume _History of England_ confined to 14 years from 1685 to 1699 and with such a pronounced point of view? Would he try, I think we are too wise to give it prime bookshelf space and make the author a baron, for we mostly cannot accept simple history, with a single theme, told by a patriot, even with great style. To some extent, Macaulay was ahead of his time in making his work five volumes to cover a small period. We have discovered that history is complicated and multifaceted, that the creation of history demands many, many smaller, more detailed, extremely well-researched works. It is too bad they are largely written by too many whose style is, at best, serviceable and whose ambitions are so constricted. Still, I'm old enough to think it a pity that we don't have very many authors who dare to try to extract the essence from hundreds of journal articles and several databases into a few good epics, full of color and character and story. Al Magary ----- Original Message ----- From: "R Glassheen" To: Sent: Tuesday, February 05, 2002 4:36 PM Subject: Re: Roman Church's stance on literacy> > > Since joining the medieval world about two years ago I have noticed that > popular writers on this subject are often dismissed or worse by the List. > The common insult is that the author is not a "historian". Some of the > dismissed include Carroll, Tuchman, Reston, Manchester, Armstong, Ambrose, > Diamond, Glick, and Robinson. Perhaps the dismissal is fair. Why should we > read an interpretation of the world from someone who does not know what he > is talking about. > > This leads me to wonder why those who have studied deeply do not write for > the rest of the world rather than for a small group. > > In his preface to _A History of the Crusades_ Runciman writes > > "History-writing today has passed into an Alexandrian age, where > criticism has overpowered creation. Faced by the mountainous heap of the > minutiae of knowledge and awed by the watchful severity of his colleagues, > the modern historian too often takes refuge in learned articles or narrowly > specialized dissertations, small fortresses that are easy to defend from > attack. His work can be of the highest value; but it is not an end in > itself. I believe that the supreme duty of the historian is to write > history, that is to say, to attempt to record in one sweeping sequence the > greater events and movements that have swayed the destinies of man. The > writer rash enough to make the attempt should not be criticized for his > ambition, however much he may deserve censure for the inadequacy of his > equipment or the inanity of his remarks." > > Chuck Glasheen
I am in sympathy with what Al and Chuck wrote and as one who has tried to write a narrative history (a biography of Alfred the Great) hoping to reach a wider audience than I had for my monograph on Anglo-Saxon military obligation I can understand why academic historians do not do it more often. First, it is incredibly difficult to write simple declarative sentences about the early middle ages. I would have liked to have long footnotes throughout explaining why I ended up interpreting the sources as I did. But publishers of narratives, textbooks, and surveys do not want such notes; they clutter the book, and the general reader, they believe, would not be all interested in the historiographical arguments. By not having them, though, I felt as if I were tip toeing through scholarly minefields (and I'm sure I set off a few). Writing like this is working without a safety net. But it is necessary if one wishes to make one's work readable and engaging. (I am reminded of a comment my dissertation advisor Malcolm Bean made on a draft of my dissertaion when I failed to translate milites in Domesday Book and the pre-Conquest Latin sources because the term was 'technical.' He said if I, the presumed expert i nthe field, did not know what this word meant, how could I hope that my readers would? But, as Bernie said, making such judgments takes guts because whatever you choose someone is going to attack you for it.)
There is also a question of the reception of the work by one's colleagues. Monographs prove our bona fides in the profession; narrative histories, especially those written with an eye toward a general public, do not. Some schools won't credit it toward merit pay raises or promotion. So the reward comes from reaching a larger audience and, perhaps, making some money. (Alfred was disappointing on both counts.) Perhaps it is because academic historians are insecure. We do not have a professional 'jargon' as do lit crits, sociologists, anthropologists, and philosophers--though we are increasingly borrowing theirs. Our notes and source criticism take its place. Without them what separates us (in the readers' minds) from 'popular' historians? It always amazes me when I look at books on the Civil War at Barnes and Noble or Borders and see how many lawyers and businessmen decide to write history in their retirement or spare time--and how satisfactory the result often is.
I guess the question is whether history today can be 'literature' and still academically respectable. I think so.