History and Film

All of our authors discuss history and how it has been told through film. Natalie Davis, Vivein Rose, Julies Corley, and Robert Brent Toplin all agree that historians need to take a more prominent role in the production of historical film. Film is incredibly popular and is often the only medium that some people experience some history. Unfortunately, historical films have been produced some with little to no history training, leading to a simplistic narrative not revealing the true depth of the story in order to prevent this.

While similar all of these articles deal with different aspects of film and history. Davis examines whether film or written literature is the most effective way to communicate the past. Due to the inability to communicate the many sides of the story film is complemented by a book that can be written after reflection and done in order to flesh out stories that may have been overlooked during film production.

Rose and Corley take a look at Ken Burns and his seeming monopoly of the historical film industry. They feel he is doing the history profession a disservice by displaying a bland film disconnected from accurate scholarship. However, we as historians have allowed this to happen. They offer a number for ways for this to happen. By practicing on-camera skills, have professional historians engage in criticism of film (rather than general film critics), and train ourselves to critique films for historical accuracy and soundness. We as historians have to actively reach out to the public in order to deliver history that will expand the national narrative not limit it to “great men.”

Finally, Toplin discusses five ideas or questions that can lead to the future of historical films. Toplin admits that advancements in the study of film and history in recnt years has been great but in order to legtiamize and strucutre the study has five questions to explore. I especially liked the urge to study films to third level, not just critiques of the films or even a look at the people behind the film. Research needs to be taken to the third level, stidy of everything from story narratives, interoffice meos, to draft scripts. Toplin offers this and other interesting routes to advance the study of history in film.

All of these articles agree, without input from historians historical films will not be raised to the level of complexity and accuracy that they are possible of.

Frisch and Terkel

Our readings for the last two weeks, Studs Terkel’s Touch and Go: A Memoir and Michael Frisch’s A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History, deal with a similar subject, oral history, and to a lesser extent, public history. However, they are worlds apart in terms of style and readability.

Terkel’s book at first had the feel of an old man’s ramblings, incoherent babble full of obscure references. As I read on though, I developed a deeper respect for Terkel’s writings, in particular the last few chapters. The book began rather confusingly, the repeated references to silent film era stars and early 20th century plays were a little beyond me. As I said I was not overly impressed by the memoir until I had reached the twenty-fourth chapter, a cutting review of the “United States of Amnesia.” Studs pointed out the dangers of forgetting the past; the invention of the past. The American story is so uplifting and progressive because it is so inaccurate. Americans do not want to face a disturbing past, it “…might disturb our sense of complacency, our sense of satisfaction. (p 234)” I think this speaks to many problems in the field of public history, such as, heaven forbid, revisionist exhibitions and displays or the recent “History Wars” o f the 90s. The nation has forgotten its past thereby forgetting who we are as a nation, leading to the series of global travesties we currently find ourselves embroiled in.

I was surprised by the lack of mention about oral history. Not having read any other of Stud’s books and being primarily familiar with him through his oral history work, he discussed his work foremost as a radioman and actor. Overall much of the book seemed disjointed but the ending was powerful and forced me ponder some deep issues.

Meanwhile A Shared Authority was much more professionally written than Touch and Go but equally unapproachable. While not as engaging, the book covered a wide variety of topics over Frisch’s career. Most of the pieces seem to focus on issues of authorship, for instance who receives the credit of an oral history- the interviewer or the interviewee? I was shocked by the difficulties involved with assigning the author of a documentary that the New York Times Magazine helped edit. The Times refused to name all involved as author and then demanded that solely Frisch be given credit. Similarly to Terkel’s closing chapters, issues of individuality, the American ideal, and the community, a gathering of minds, are found in contention. Both authors favor a community approach, sharing ownership with the broader audience for a more complete and authentic experience.

As public history itself, both of these books are concerned with the audience. Both can be seen as attempts to actively engage the public in order involve them in the making of and remembering of our past. Despite their vastly different approaches both realize the importance of making public history active and alive rather than an object for passive consumption

Remaking America John Bodnar

As Americans we choose to celebrate certain events from our past. Which events and who chooses them is the basis of John Bodnar’s book, Remaking America: Public Memory, Commemoration, and Patriotism in the Twentieth Century. It explores the way vernacular or local memory is linked to the wider world of national politics and how the past has been used for political means. Vernacular memory, that which local communities create to celebrate foundings or local heroes is inherently threatening even if it is frequently converted to serve the needs of official patriotic memory. It is through the unequal exertions of power that certain memories are commemorated while others disappear into fog of forgetfulness.
Through rather broad and recurring generalizations, Bodnar shows how the cultural elite, those with political and economic power, have distorted symbols to stand for the ideals that promote their interests. Vernacular memory was grounded in local interests and associations that were known, felt, or experienced directly. As a number of small communal or regional experiences, vernacular memory acted as a divisive force pulling the country apart. Official memory “…stressed the desirability of maintaining the social order and existing structures. (Bodnar, p 246)” As originators of vernacular culture died ties between the community and the memory weakened, easing the way for the memories adoption by the government. This is why the cultural elite and national government worked to codify symbols and tweak them to encourage national unity.
An important aspect of memory, especially vernacular, is its constant evolution through time and experience. Vernacular memory is especially susceptible because of tactile experience, as distance from the individual and the event increased so did the emotions pertaining to that event. Bodnar believes that history is a very politicized event, over time separation between individual and event occurs and indifference seems to set in. In the end power breaks down resistance and the view of those with power usually dominates, this is shown through experience of the nation-state’s overwhelming need to show memory as a unifying and bonding experience. In the past change has been described as progress, an orderly procession of events that have led to current state of economic success. Officials use this progression to derail fears about current crisis or defuse the pain and turmoil that so frequently accompanies drastic change.
Following wars, such as the Civil War and the World Wars, more commemoration focused on bringing the country together and celebrating triumph over “the enemy”. Focus on personal experience, the vernacular memory, was frequently much more sobering, death, pain, hardships, and loss.
Even today we face the concern of changing and changed cultural symbols, an unavoidable phenomenon. As political and social power changes hands the meaning of symbols will morph as well. “New symbols will have to be constructed…and old ones will have to be invested with new meaning. (Bodnar, p 114)” In our time of political disunity and increasing numbers of divergent communities we will see if the need for political symbols of unity are truly necessary or if personal commemoration and memory can act as a force of solidarity for our nation.