The Presence of the Past

Rating:
Summary: Their research raises more questions than answers.
Review: I met ³Harvey² on the stairs leading to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles. I was going up; he was going down. He had just dropped off wife and kids inside the museum, but preferred to listen to the hockey game in the car, rather than ³have anything to do with something historical.² I saw him two hours later. While looking for the restrooms, he had stumbled on a poorly lit room that hosted a small exhibit on toys from the 1940¹s to the 1970¹s. He was now talking with two men his own age, ³John and Steve.² Half phrases, shouted words, hands quickly drawing circles and lines, they were describing -- reliving I should say -- the games they used to play when they were kids. ³Oh, that was the best and....² ³....and mom would call and we kept....² ³But we didn¹t have all the....² While written specifically for writers, teachers, and professionals in the field of history, Roy Rosenzweig¹s and David Thelen¹s work is about people like ³Harvey, John, and Steve.² The Presence of the Past is an act of accusation toward the historical profession as a whole for the dicothomy created between History with the capital H, and the general public, increasingly alienated by its specialization and sterility. Taking advantage of the results of a national survey specifically tailored to their demands, the co-authors are convincingly able to demonstrate that if perception of scholastic history is still filled with adjectives like boring and useless, the average American considers a dip in the past a very exiting and a very purpeseful activity. To be connected with one¹s roots, to research one¹s who, where, when, what, and why serves many functions: it helps understand the present, connect with one¹s culture, and even go for the ultimate prize, immortality. As Rosenzweig notes in his conclusion, the professional historian¹s inability to make use of the past represents the general public¹s main complaint. Much can be said about the evidence presented by Rosenzweig and Thelen. If the two authors dedicate a full twenty-two page explanation to the why certain people were and were not selected, a few doubts still linger on the possibility that another result could have been obtained with a difficult system of selection (in particular with the minority groups). And it is somewhat surprising that twenty-three tables are used to describe what were for the most part, open-ended questions. Couldn¹t those pages be put to better use with the transcripts of a few interviews? But a mild critique of the selection and use of the evidence cannot hide the relevance of this survey at a time in which a renewed passion for history is flourishing on small and big screens, bookstores and travel agencies, while the soul of the discipline is confused by cries of cultural relativism, objectivity, and post-structuralism. The customers have spoken: they like the product, but not the way it¹s presented. Should history corrupt its ³purity² to meet popular demand for a simplification of its themes and a stronger emphasis on subjects closer to the general public? Or was history¹s ³purity² corrupted in the first place by its separation from a narrative more attached to people rather than abstract concepts like liberty, justice, or democracy? Through a skillful use of citations, Rosenzweig and Thelen have been able to show that history (as the aseptic, distant, formal result of research done by others) is out, while a personal quest for the past is in. Contents and even results are not nearly as important as participation or experience are. This is why the number one choice on how to connect with the past is the family gathering where ³historiae² are told, passed on, and, sometimes, invented. Studying history in school? Sixth out of six choices. Scholastic history is not viewed as relevant because the one offered in American schools is a prepackaged product that doesn¹t answer personal wants. In a society dominated less by conformity and more by individuality, a quest for one¹s past necessitates an attention to individual needs that modern history is unable to offer. It is ironic that two trained historians have raised the issue of scholastic history¹s inability to cope with people¹s demand (and its related problems), but now the ball is in their court.

Rating:
Summary: Reader-friendly, places history in the hands of Americans.
Review: In "The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life," Roy Rosenzweig and David Thelen approach the subject of what history means to Americans in the course of their everyday lives. Through a nationwide survey, funded by the NEH among others, the authors seek a fundamental set of common references across race, gender, age, income, and education. Their findings indicate that Americans, across these aforementioned demographic characteristics, see history in light of a personal relationship. Rosenzweig and Thelen propose that a participatory historical culture exists and can co-exist with the traditional in this fundamentally historical culture. Recognition and empathy, resulting from "active participation with history as a process of inquiry and exploration," (p. 182), are vital elements in connecting people with themselves and others, as well as their past, present, and future. The "Presence of the Past" asks not only what purpose does history serve, but who will best record it in order to make it approachable. Americans responded to questions regarding trustworthiness of sources by consistently rating highest those willing to consider various points of view in presenting history. Museums, personal accounts, and college professors rated far higher than sources viewed as influenced by economic gain such as books, movies, and television programs. Oral histories played a significant role in giving history a personal connection as many respondents named not only family members but those who experienced situations first-hand as highly realiable sources while recognizing the limitations of time, memory, and bias. Rosenzweig and Thelen suggest that Americans themselves are, in fact, very comfortable recording and personalizing history in a variety of ways. This book encourages readers to redefine and expand their interpretation of not only what history is, but what it is good for. The standard of the traditional view of history out of a high school text is challenged by the inclusion of seemingly unconventional and unorthodox applications such as the use of inherited recipes at family gatherings, photography, hobbies, collections, gathering of genealogies, visits to museums and historical sites, reminiscing at reunions, re-enactments, and other escapist jaunts. Americans dispute the assumption that history is an ethereal manifestation that is to be beheld rather than experienced. Thus, this is a subject field that should be used and not just studied. According to the observations of the authors, content lacks connection without participation. To Americans, history is that which affirms a sense of self. The pursuit for roots, identity, and immortality emerge as the ultimate focus for the study of history. A need for a sense of placement within a framework of self, family, community, time, and therefore, immortality, seemed to be at the core of Americans' interpretation of what history is and should be. Personal, family, community, cultural, ethnic, religious, and national identities determine singularity as well as mutuality as barriers fade and blend with a changing society. Yet, "choice and invention," (p. 57), reflect not only standard history written by scholars and scoffed at by interest groups, but that personal history validated by individuals. Unsurprisingly, there were inconsistencies in certain voices. Evangelical Christians, noted for their dedication to the teachings of the Bible as an historical document, accepted such histories as authoritative, yet refuted others, such as the evolution of dinosaurs. A Virginia lawyer insisted the "most reliable is eyewitness testimony," (p. 94), when in her own court of law such testimony is not enough to insure a conviction. To individuals, choices as to what is most credible and acceptable to their own view of the world determine their personal identification with history. Thelen mentions that, "Hobbyists chose the arenas and terms of participation with the past," (p. 196). Perhaps this serves as an autobiographical comment for the authors as not only Americans, but historians also chose particular paths. The relevant questions asked in the survey reflect fresh directions historians seem to be following in their pursuit of knowledge and understanding. It is encouraging to find scholars such as Rosenzweig and Thelen willing to cross into and encompass other fields of study such as anthropology, psychology, and sociology in the clarification of man's relationship to and use of history. In separating cultural,ethnic, and racial characteristics for such a study, certain generalizations and extrapolations are inevitable. While Mexican Americans have a special position the history of the United States, they are not necessarily representative of all Hispanics, as was similarly noted in the study of the Oglala Sioux in respect to other Native Americans. And, unfortunately, the blatant lack of inclusion of Asian Americans ignores another large part of the population. However, in the realms of historical research, it is an eye-opening and encouraging study. Moreover, the fact that its findings promote further subsidy of public and non-profit association projects reflects well on the NEH's choice of funding. Regardless of the occasional typographical error, this work is reader-friendly, successfully bringing the allegedly dull subject of textbook history out of the classroom and placing it firmly in the hands of everyday Americans. With refreshing perpectives, Rosenzweig and Thelen present the consciousness of individuals and groups in such a manner that enables the reader to identify with this personalization of history and entice him or her with the ordinaryness of the observations and conclusions.

Rating:
Summary: Their research raises more questions than answers.
Review: In recent years it has been popular to lambaste the American as unlettered in history; gullible and vulnerable to the whims of the popular media. Rosenzwieg and Thelen take issue with this assertion through the results of their survey of popular American attitudes and perceptions toward history. In deference to the positive, they crafted their survey to discover what Americans do know about their past, and which aspects therein possess special meaning to the individual. Through their findings they hoped to locate a common ground that would engage both scholar and layman in the search for understanding in history.

Rosenzweig and Thelen found that many Americans regard the past as a well-spring for moral guidance and personal identity. In contrast to the professional historian, it is less the specific event (e.g. World War II) than the familial tie (e.g. grandpa going off to war) that determines relevance and interpretation for the layman. For many Americans history is alive and ever-present: through keepsakes, family lore, and observations. It is subject to an unending reinterpretation and definition, and, most importantly, it is what defines aspiration and identity.

Rosenzweig and Thelen also found little to suggest homogeneity among Americans in historical interpretation. In areas such as ethnicity and religion the variance was profound. Their findings suggested that such identifications influence meaning and interpretation, and speak of divisions within American society. This was particularly true in comparisons between the reminisces of European Americans, African Americans, and Native Americans. In some areas of history (e.g. slavery and the westward movement), there appeared little ground for a broad and unifying consensus.

Is there a paradigm that would unite scholar and layman? Rosenzweig and Thelen suggest it may exist in popular history, a form of historical presentation steeped in relevance to the individual. This 'democratization' of history would spring forth from a productive dialogue between the layman and the scholar. In the view of Rosenzweig and Thelen, the professional historian is wont to wallow in esoterica and narrow specialization. While impressive, such research does not engage the layman; instead, it perpetuates the popular perception of history as a dry compendium of dates and facts. Rather a productive dialogue could draw both layman and scholar in a common pursuit.

Does this mean that history is alive and well in the United States? Unfortunately, the optimism effused from Rosenzweig and Thelen's study provides little room for comfort. Despite their stated intention to survey a cross section of Americans, the design of their survey provides evidence they fell short of this goal. Asian Ameicans were under-represented, as were people living in multi-ethnic neighborhoods. Also, socio-economic status did not receive the attention it merited; previous studies have found correlation between socio-economic status and knowledge in many fields, including history. Yet, Rosenzweig and Thelen have provided both scholars and laymen with food for thought as to what direction history should be taken.

Rating:
Summary: Defining Down History
Review: There is much to learn from Presence of the Past but notnecessarily what the authors have in mind. Rosenzweig and Thelenpurport to give us good news about the historical consciousness of the American people, finding that most Americans are, in some way, "connected to the past." They do this by defining down the definition of history to mean things like talking with relatives, keeping a diary, collecting antique motorcycles, and even attending Bible classes. History teachers become the heavies because they insist that students regurgitate historical facts about which average Americans express a profound lack of interest (although paradoxically they also say that they would like their children to have the same experience).

It's as if those who bemoaned the mathematical illiteracy of the American public were suddenly challenged by a survey noting that virtually all Americans could read house numbers, tell the time, and make change while using a calculator. These hypothetical respondents would probably also criticize their teachers for burdening them with irrelevant information.

Because the majority of the Americans surveyed for Presence of the Past have little sense of history outside their family or group, their knowledge of broader history is both sketchy and distorted. Rosenzweig and Thelen celebrate the fact that Americans put more trust in museums than in books for their knowledge of history, but such a faith only demonstrates naivete about museums. (In the wake of the Enola Gay fiasco at the Smithsonian and a subsequent symposium of articles in the Journal of American History, one JAH reader noted that the "true tragedy" was that "both sides believed that the people who saw the exhibit would be swayed, unquestioningly, by the 'facts' presented to them and that the visitors would not stop, even briefly, to think of possible biases in the exhibition itself, let alone about WWII-i.e. that they would think critically. Unfortunately, because of the state of education in this country, I agree with them.")

Using such a low common denominator to define history also reveals that those with the most congruent view of the past are "evangelicals" (defined by Rosenzweig and Thelen as Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses as well as Protestant fundamentalists and evangelicals). Thelen notes that the appeal of evangelical religion is so powerful "that it seems the most likely common ground on which some respondents from different cultures can recognize each other." "What," asks Rosenzweig, "does a largely secular group like historians have to say to them?"

The authors' greatest fear is that the "privatized and parochial past" of their informants will not support history as "a vehicle for social justice" or inspire people "to work for social change in the present." Not to worry. Ignorance, parochialism, and naivete are a fertile soil for those who wish to use "history" as a tool to promote social and political agendas. "Black Athena" and its kin are only a recent example.

Awareness of one's own past is helpful (we often call it maturity), and extending understanding of the past to the lives of one's relatives is even better. But without an appreciation of the broader past, democracy is in danger. Much of what passes for present truth is, in the words of C. S. Lewis, "merely temporary fashion. A man who has lived in many places is not likely to be deceived by the local errors of his native village: the scholar has lived in many times and is therefore in some degree immune from the great cataract of nonsense that pours from the press and the microphone of his own age."ÿ

Rating:
Summary: Defining Down History
Review: There is much to learn from Presence of the Past but notnecessarily what the authors have in mind. Rosenzweig and Thelenpurport to give us good news about the historical consciousness of the American people, finding that most Americans are, in some way, "connected to the past." They do this by defining down the definition of history to mean things like talking with relatives, keeping a diary, collecting antique motorcycles, and even attending Bible classes. History teachers become the heavies because they insist that students regurgitate historical facts about which average Americans express a profound lack of interest (although paradoxically they also say that they would like their children to have the same experience).

It's as if those who bemoaned the mathematical illiteracy of the American public were suddenly challenged by a survey noting that virtually all Americans could read house numbers, tell the time, and make change while using a calculator. These hypothetical respondents would probably also criticize their teachers for burdening them with irrelevant information.

Because the majority of the Americans surveyed for Presence of the Past have little sense of history outside their family or group, their knowledge of broader history is both sketchy and distorted. Rosenzweig and Thelen celebrate the fact that Americans put more trust in museums than in books for their knowledge of history, but such a faith only demonstrates naivete about museums. (In the wake of the Enola Gay fiasco at the Smithsonian and a subsequent symposium of articles in the Journal of American History, one JAH reader noted that the "true tragedy" was that "both sides believed that the people who saw the exhibit would be swayed, unquestioningly, by the 'facts' presented to them and that the visitors would not stop, even briefly, to think of possible biases in the exhibition itself, let alone about WWII-i.e. that they would think critically. Unfortunately, because of the state of education in this country, I agree with them.")

Using such a low common denominator to define history also reveals that those with the most congruent view of the past are "evangelicals" (defined by Rosenzweig and Thelen as Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses as well as Protestant fundamentalists and evangelicals). Thelen notes that the appeal of evangelical religion is so powerful "that it seems the most likely common ground on which some respondents from different cultures can recognize each other." "What," asks Rosenzweig, "does a largely secular group like historians have to say to them?"

The authors' greatest fear is that the "privatized and parochial past" of their informants will not support history as "a vehicle for social justice" or inspire people "to work for social change in the present." Not to worry. Ignorance, parochialism, and naivete are a fertile soil for those who wish to use "history" as a tool to promote social and political agendas. "Black Athena" and its kin are only a recent example.

Awareness of one's own past is helpful (we often call it maturity), and extending understanding of the past to the lives of one's relatives is even better. But without an appreciation of the broader past, democracy is in danger. Much of what passes for present truth is, in the words of C. S. Lewis, "merely temporary fashion. A man who has lived in many places is not likely to be deceived by the local errors of his native village: the scholar has lived in many times and is therefore in some degree immune from the great cataract of nonsense that pours from the press and the microphone of his own age."ÿ