Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Week 6: A New Departure & Preserving Postmodern, Restoring Past


The comparisons these two articles presented were extremely interesting especially as I was constantly reminded of the push/pull nature of memory versus academic history discussed in our earlier readings.  The comparison of the restoration of Monticello and the preservation of Montpelier in the Nolan and Buckman article is another illustration of the differing viewpoints presented by people who want to present and pass on history as they remember it or as their culture has presented it versus those who want to find the ‘true’ history and present it to everyone as the overarching truth which incorporates everyone’s point of view.  So too does the Lindgren article deal with a comparison of memory versus academic or ‘true’ history.  Here the comparison of ‘personalism’ equates directly to the memory-side while ‘professionalism’ equates to the academic or ‘true’ history side of the argument.

The restoration of Monticello falls squarely into the memory camp.  Here the idea behind the presentation of Monticello is to create the world Jefferson lived in during his retirement years on the property.  Every effort has been made to return the house and grounds to a specific point in time and to honor the memory of the man by using his plans, drawings, and memoirs.   So too do the women who established the Mount Vernon Ladies Association, those Lindgren labels as favoring ‘personalism’, fall into this camp.  The MVLA and others during this period wanted to honor the founding fathers, for example at Mount Vernon the memory of Washington was the prime consideration in how to approach its presentation to the public.  Another example is the story Lindgren tells about how Washington’s mother’s reputation was cleaned up and made more acceptable to those who wanted to honor Washington and his family. 

On the academic or ‘true’ history side falls Montpelier with it’s 100 plus years of change and development.  Here the emphasis is on telling the whole mixed-up continually changing history.  Here too the ‘professionalism’ camp lines up with its emphasis on technology, archaeology, and business. 

I think both articles are extremely persuasive in there arguments.  By using the comparisons they chose the authors make compelling arguments for their points of view.  The quote by Dermody in Preserving the Postmodern, Restoring the Past:  ‘Monticello is a snapshot and Montpelier is a videotape’ (p. 259) rings throughout both of the readings as well as offering insight for other issues we’ve discussed such as the Lost Cause argument, the Liberty Bell presentation, the Enola Gay controversy, and the Conquistador statue.  In each case at least part of the problem is the desire of some to maintain the value of the ‘snapshot’ of their memory and the desire of others to value the ‘videotape’ of history as a whole.   

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Week 5: Enola Gay and Revisionist History


As I was reading the articles for this week, Battle Royal, The Final Mission of the Enola Gay and The Postmodern Exhibition, I was once again struck by the power of memory and the tenacity with which people of all races, genders, and cultures cling to their own memory of history.  Just as the ‘Lost Cause’ adherents cling to their vision of the Civil War, so to do the WWII veterans and those who lived through that war cling to their memory of the Enola Gay; as the Japanese cling to their version of the Japanese invasion of China. 

This desire or need to remember the history in which we were involved in a favorable way is seemingly universal.  I have been thinking back over my own personal remembrances and I find that I am guilty of the same tunnel vision.  I remember things ‘my’ way even when confronted with solid, seemingly truthful evidence to the contrary.  I consider the evidence, sometimes I’m even swayed by the evidence, but slowly and surely I return to ‘my’ memory of the event. 

We’ve seen this same battle between differing memories in many of our readings: the controversy over the Conquistador statue, Williamsburg and Greenfield, the House of the Seven Gables, and the home of the slave trader, Brown, just to mention a few.  It seems we can take it for granted that any exhibition, re-creation, or re-telling of history can be a battlefield between differing memories of the site or event.  Which leads me to realize how vitally important it is that the trained historians, especially the public historians, maintain their dedication to telling the entire story. 

In my opinion, the Smithsonian was wrong to back down.  As Michael Neufield stated in Battle Royal, “Memorials are one thing.  History is another” (pg. 217).  Admittedly from a purely practical viewpoint the curators probably should have waited until the 100th Anniversary to launch the exhibit they envisioned, but never should they have backed down from their carefully researched attempt to tell all sides of the story.  All the Enola Gay does now with no labeling and no description is to serve as a placeholder for a future exhibit that will be able to educate. 

There is nothing wrong with a memorial, nor is there anything wrong with memory.  The truth of any thing is usually found in the middle and if the publics’ strong trust in museums is any indication of the public will, they expect museums and the historians who staff them to find that truth. 

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Week 4: Thoughts on Horton


Week 4:  Horton

I’d like to point to three quotes from Slavery and Public History: The Tough Stuff of American Memory edited by James Oliver Horton and Lois E. Horton to demonstrate one of the recurring arguments made by the volume of essays.  First is John Michael Vlach’s assertion from his conclusion to ‘The Last Great Taboo Subject’ that black Americans are “hungry for memory” (p. 71).  In his discussion of the Library of Congress’ aborted attempt to present the ‘Back of the Big House’ exhibit, Vlach gives many instances where black Americans voiced a desire to learn more about the ‘onerous and taboo aspects’ of slavery to allow them to ‘learn and to endure’ (p. 72). 

The second quote comes from Gary B. Nash’s essay, ‘For Whom Will the Liberty Bell Toll?’  In his conclusion, Nash quotes Kenneth Moynihan who asserts that history is “an ongoing conversation that yields not final truths but an endless succession of discoveries that change our understanding not only of the past but of ourselves and of the times we live in” (p. 101).  So the second piece of the argument is the desire of people to understand their personal pasts and to use that knowledge to understand their present.  Past experience and past example provide powerful lessons for people to draw upon when they wrestle with current issues and problems. 

The final quote comes from Edward T. Linenthal’s “Epilogue: Reflections”.  Here John Hope Franklin states that ‘explaining history from a variety of angles makes it not only more interesting, but also more true’ (p. 216).  The more people included in any discussion of history and the more viewpoints that are considered, the more likely we are to see the whole picture and to gain universal understanding of the event both in its own time and as it affects the present. 

The idea of inclusiveness stands out vividly in all of the essays included in Slavery and Public History.  It is important to look at everything and to include all viewpoints in order to gain a better understanding of history.  No one point of view, no one group can give the whole truth.  One of the hurdles to finding the ‘truth’ lies in the fact that the winners, the powerful, and the most dominate groups have always been able to ‘write’ history.  In order to truly understand history and to be able to use that knowledge to understand our present, we need to be as inclusive as possible.  

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Week 3 - Defining Memory

As editor of the book Defining Memory, Amy K. Levin was tasked with drawing together essays to discuss ‘local museums and the construction of history in America’s changing communities.’  One of the arguments recurring throughout the essays is Glassberg’s idea of  ‘sense of place’.  Local museums are often created because of their particular attachment within a community.  For example, the Old Cowtown Museum and the Living Museum at Arthurdale, WV are re-creations of a specific place in a particular period of time.  Sites like these play to the memories of the local citizens as well as to those of the tourists who come to see what used to be.  Other museums discussed in Defining Memory, which elaborate on the theme of place, are Colonial Williamsburg and the House of the Seven Gables. 

The use of individual essays focused on separate museums is effective in making this argument.  The number of different museums as well as the wide range of topics, i.e. wild west, Louisiana politics, and St. Louis’ City Museum of architecture to mention only three, helps to make the point that local interest is the driving force for local museums.   The structure of the book with clear divisions and introductions to each section make the point even stronger.  Whether the museum is a living recreation of a city or way of life or a collection of oddities from local business, industry, or agriculture, it is the locale that binds the artifacts together. 

Defining Memory is strengthened by its variety and by the number of individual authors who have lent their expertise to the project.  The structure of the book also strengthens the whole by both providing individual, stand alone essays and by linking those by way of the introductions to each section and the introduction and conclusion provided by Ms. Levin.  The book works both as a cohesive whole discussing small local museums and as a resource for individual museums.  The final essay, although interesting in its own right, seems somewhat tacked on and does not further the arguments and ideas of the other essays.  Levin’s explanation of when the volume was finished makes this more forgivable, but in some ways detracted from the cohesiveness of the other essays.  But while I feel its placement at the end of this volume is somewhat awkward, the discussion of how unexpected and tragic events adjust the viewpoints of museum curators, founders, and patrons is very intriguing.  It would be worthy of a volume of essays of its own.