History and Hollywood (Or, The Longest Blog Yet)

History and Hollywood; that is the theme to this week’s readings in public history. The article by Robert Brent Toplin, “Cinematic History: Where Do We Go From Here?” addresses the study of cinematic history, how the study of film has advanced, and how it can (and in some cases already has) evolve into a more thorough research process to discover more about the time period the film was created in then how the film accurately or inaccurately presents the historical people/events/places. What I enjoyed most about Toplin’s article is his notion of second and third level research that moves beyond the study of a film’s historical accuracy to the study of the public reception of the film and the production experience of key figures who worked on the film, and even further, to the study of the history of the production itself. Toplin explores how historians can learn more about cultural, social, political, and economic issues of American history by using these “second and third levels” of research of films. Toplin raises some great points about what can be learned from this more thorough study of film, but I can’t quite make the same leap that he does at the end of his article when he states that “the work of cinematic artists…are becoming our most influential historians” (91). I agree that a lot can be learned from this new study of cinema, but can film makers really be labeled as historians because we are learning more about a time period by studying the production history and public reception of a film? This blogger doesn’t think so.

Continuing on this study of the role of film in public history, Vivien Ellen Rose and Julie Corley’s article, “A Trademark Approach to the Past: Ken Burns, the Historical Profession, and Assessing Popular Presentations of the Past,” looks at historical documentaries more so than big Hollywood movies. Most of Rose and Corley’s article focuses on Ken Burns’ documentary of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony entitled Not for Ourselves Alone: The Story of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony. The authors argue that Burns’ documentary creates a simple, one-sided story of these two women and their fight for women’s suffrage by frequently omitting historical facts that do not conform to his narrative, completely disregarding current research of the two women and the women’s rights movement, and using music, photos, and quotes out of context with the narrative. What was really interesting about this article is the authors’ critique of the industry Burns has successfully marketed based on the success of his historical documentaries. Burns has developed in collaboration with others a whole line of educational materials based on his work and has earned numerous awards for his documentaries, including Not for Ourselves Alone which has been labeled “boringly formulaic” and “bland:…lacking controversy.” The authors expose though that these awards are handed down by media groups who have little regard for the actual historical accuracy of the film and so they pose to resolve this by having historians included in the judging of these films and/or having historical associations nominate films that accurately portray the past. The authors also advocate teaching students how to study historical films and documentaries to asses their use of sources, whether the narrative matches the visual being presented, and that historiographical debates are included. I agree with this last solution. Too often, historical documentaries are taken at face value and assumed to be the whole and complete truth on a subject because of their very nature, but Rose and Corley’s article shows that the creator’s of these types of film also flex their artistic muscle just as much as a Hollywood film maker does and should be evaluated with the same scrutiny as any written source.

Finally, Natalie Zemon Davis writes in her article, “Movie or Monograph: A Historian/Flimmaker’s Perspective” about her experience working as a historical consultant with film makers on Le Retour de Martin Guerre. Davis’ experience is a first hand example of the artistic license film makers use to adapt a story to film. Davis not only points out the little flaws in the film portrayal of a historical time period, but also the more glaring flaws that diminishes important features of that time period, misleading the public of the society in that time and place in history. Davis countered the historical idiosyncrasies of the film by publishing a sort of companion book that pointed to the historical evidence that the film was based on and also leaving open room for discussion, which she advocates both professional writing and film should do for its audience.

Oral History: A Blog

Oral history is vastly becoming a popular tool for the study of social and cultural history, which has also risen in the ranks of study in academic history. By studying the history (or stories for this blog’s sake) of the everyday people, not the elites, of the past, one gains an insight as to the way of life for the common man. Oral history is the perfect means to not only capture their story, but their emotions as well. In Studs Terkel’s memoir, Touch and Go, this idea is most strongly conveyed. Terkel’s memoir is penned in an almost stream of consciousness manner, where it seems he jumps from one person, event, or idea to the next with almost no segue, but after a couple of chapters (for me anyway) his tale becomes easier to follow. Not only does Terkel give a thorough account of his life and times, from the depression to McCarthyism and beyond, Terkel also documents his method and experiences with recording oral histories.

I would like to pause here to make two personal notes. First, let’s just take a moment to pause and appreciate what a great name “Studs” is. Having never heard of the guy prior to this reading I was a bit bummed to find out it was merely a stage name, but hey, it stuck and I think it’s great. Second, it is easy to see how this man was able to get people to open up to him and discuss their lives. His personality and quirks shine through in his writing. How can you not like a guy who refers to himself as “a hapless retardee” (only in mechanical matters of course, but still)?(p.177) This ability of Terkel to make his interviewees comfortable is a talent that allows him to capture not only their story, but their emotion. As he himself explains when he has his interviews transcribed he has every sound, every pause, and every background noise documented to truly recapture the ambiance of the interview. My favorite part of this book was when he described his quick interview with his wife in order to compare her role as a social worker with another who is quite heartless (to put it kindly). Terkel truly has a knack for recreating a scene from the past and making the reader feel as if they were there observing it all.

The other reading for this week, Michael Frisch’s A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History, discusses the particulars of oral history and the increasing role of public history in an academic and technical way that is tough to have to read after the lighter and conversational Terkel reading. Frisch’s book however once again brings in this concept of shared authority that we first read at the beginning of the course. According to Frisch, however, this notion of shared authority in oral and public history has the capacity to “redefine and redistribute intellectual authority” to be “shared more broadly” and therefore historical research will no longer be an “instrument of power and hierarchy.” (p.xx) In other words, that shared authority is bringing history to the general masses and away from the hallowed halls of academia is a very intriguing idea. Another interesting point that Frisch brings up is in his first essay (where he examines a book by Terkel no less, irony anyone?) is that oral history is experiential history. (p.7) I really like this notion and completely agree with him. Oral history has a way of bringing history to life (cheesy I know), and gives a more cohesive view of the times by making it more personal. As we saw in Rosenzweig and Thelen, the general public is relates to and is more attracted to history when it is conceived of as a personal past, not a textbook academic version of events.

Public Memory & Patriotism*

John Bodnar’s, Remaking America: Public Memory, Commemoration, and Patriotism in the Twentieth Century, is a study in the role of vernacular and national interests in shaping public memory through acts of commemoration. Bodnar’s study finds that local, vernacular interests play a large role in national memory; however they do so through time and manipulation by those in power. Vernacular interests are those of small local groups, either ethnic communities, or small towns in general. Their interests in acts of public commemoration revolve around their town settlement (the original pioneers), or the local townspeople who fought in any of America’s wars. Essentially, public memory, in local instances, involves emotional ties and personal history. Bodnar found that once those generations that had an affiliation to either pioneers or war veterans had passed, the vernacular interest shifted to a general national patriotism, but was still fueled by the local association to the national story.

Government officials who worked to establish a strong patriotic positive national public memory stressed the importance of progress. Whereas vernacular interests lay in the past, national interest tried to focus on progress and looked to the future. Officials, however, couldn’t deny the power of local acts of commemoration and therefore tried to use that attachment to their local history and its symbols and incorporate it into the national story. In other words, officials realized that in order to raise national morale and patriotism they needed to incorporate vernacular history into the national story. The ability of government to do this successfully is what allows that national patriotism to increase as the earlier generations who are tied closest to the vernacular history pass on.

Overall what Bodnar finds in his study that vernacular interests feed into the national story. While government officials would rather have public memory focus on the national story and increase the public’s sense of patriotism, they’ve realized that local (community, ethnic group, town, etc.) history is what ignites people’s passion and interest. By playing into that interest and weaving it into the national story, the national government can achieve this goal. I can’t help but be reminded of the Rosenzweig and Thelen study that found that people connect to history on a personal level, they look for their personal connection to the past in order to relate and to have a vested interest. The success of local acts of commemoration illustrates people’s desire and ability to connect to a past that they relate to, but as each generation moves further away from those pioneers that are being honored, the story must move on to look at the bigger (i.e. national) picture.
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*Disclaimer: I had the worst time trying to read this book. If this blog seems incoherent and disjointed (which I think it does), I apologize. While I thought Bodnar’s book read fairly easily I felt like I was muddling through the whole thing barely retaining any of the information; as soon as I read it, I seemed to forget it.