Schama Schama Schama

You know, I’m beginning to love Simon Schama’s work.  I’ve read Dead Certainties, and watched all of his History of Britain across two weeks or so, recently.  The most fascinating thing about his histories though, is not the content – although it is fascinating; he tells a ripping good story – but Schama himself.  Little slips, about his Jewishness, or comments on not being supposed to talk about Marxist concepts following the collapse of the Berlin Wall, little asides like ‘was this not admirable, Michel Foucault?’ when discussing the history of asylums on p.99 of Dead Certainties, the BBC lecture on history and television that is included with the series, the short promo film of him – in his study presumably – explaining his motivation for doing the History of Britain… all of these things are not directed at other scholars. 

To be sure, his conception of what he is doing comes from the highest scholarly rigour, but they are communicated as a public conversation.  Historians don’t have a monopoly on history.  For better or worse, we all make use of history in our day to day decisions.  And this is what he wants to address.  That is, history is profoundly moral, and political. 

This isn’t a conservative agenda.  Nor is it necessarily what is frequently called progressive.  If you watch, read or listen to his work, you’ll notice that he frequently selects several conflicting accounts of the same events.  This isn’t new, as anybody who has read the four gospels telling the story of Jesus’ life can attest.  The point is to, I think, on the one hand, acknowledge the possibility of different view points, and that no one necessarily has a monopoly on the correct story.  On the other hand, it opens the possibility of, in fact almost forces you to, use your own mind and make your own decision, one that might be different from the one you may have made prior to listening to him.  And that, I think, is worth listening to. 

If you like a good story, read Dead Certainties; if you like history done well, his History of Britain is well worth the read, watch or listen (you can get it on DVD, on CD, or as a book).  He’s got other series as well, which I haven’t got around to yet, but now I think I will.

Filed under: Foucault, Historiography, books, cinema, experiences, history, literature, media , A History of Britain, Dead Certainties, Historiography, history, Simon Schama

The orthodox historian

“The orthodox historian is strongly committed … to the view that there is a clear distinction between getting things right and getting things wrong. In his elementary concern with getting things right, the orthodox historian signals his adherence to a view that has dominated the historical profession since its birth in the nineteenth century – namely, the view that history is at bottom a science, capable of realistically apprehending the world and of discovering a truth that is more than relative. Admittedly, historians are today less confident about the scientific status of history. Indeed, one of the most striking features of recent historiography has been its increasing scientisation as historians have come more and more to draw on the concepts and methods of the social sciences. It is true that some historians, most notably Hayden White, have argued that history is founded on a poetic apprehension of the world that is entirely prescientific in nature. But this is very much a minority position which, in its assertion that the historical fact is really a poetic factum, is in contradiction to the ingrained realism of the vast majority of historians. For the orthodox historian, the evidence that he has so laboriously discovered and assessed has a reality of its own reflecting the reality of the past itself, and he sees his task as the construction of a historical account that will explain and interpret this actual past.”

Allan Megill, ‘Foucault, Structuralism, and the Ends of History’, The Journal of Modern History, Vol. 51.3 (September, 1979), p458.

The narratives that historians tell about themselves and their own industry frequently appear – like this quotation here – incredibly naive. I find that in the reconstructions of their own discipline, its methods and the description of its work, they sell themselves short. I realise that this piece is nearly 30 years old now, and despite perhaps an increasing sophistication in descriptions about history as a discipline, prompted by new work in philosophy and literary theory, cultural studies, and new movements within history itself, many of the comments here can still be heard in contemporary debates.

Historians may have dropped the talk of ‘the past as it really was’ these days, but this isn’t my point. My point is to ask why they ever told themselves this story in the first place? Much more sophisticated – and I would say more accurately true to life – descriptions of historical work and thinking was certainly in circulation earlier than this. Perhaps less so in English, (but I doubt it – probably simply less obviously) – German speaking scholars had a rich tradition of historical thinking to draw upon through Dilthey, Husserl and Heidegger, just to mention a few.

History is always a site of contention, dialogue, debate – the very idea throws up contradictory urges and directions to pursue – enigmatic questions that go to the very core of what it means to be here, now, this body, living, with you. They can no more be resolved than some meaningless question like ‘the meaning of life’. However, they will always be pursued, precisely because we are who we are.

But the question still remains – why do historians tell themselves these deeply unhistorical stories? When Megill remarks “Derrida['s] De la Grammatologie reads like an absurdist parody of everything that has ever gone under the name of intellectual history”, how – supposing he has read the book at all – has he arrived at this view? How, when it has its roots in the deeply historical thinking of Husserl and Heidegger? What forces were at play that contributed to not only a pathetic representation of Derrida’s work, but that helped draw such a pathetic representation of Megill’s own, supposedly opposing, view?

Filed under: Derrida, Foucault, Historiography, hayden white, history, quotations

No such thing

“I was recently reading the works of contemporary scholars such as Michel Foucault, Richard Rorty, and Jacques Derrida who argue that there is no such thing as…”

Check out this insightful post about truth, opinion, and the academy.  Where do people come up with these summaries?  Have they actually read these works – ‘I was recently reading…’?

Filed under: Derrida, Foucault, Philosophy, Richard Rorty, postmodernism, truth