History: subjectivity
Oct. 9th, 2004 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
avreliaNorman Davies “Europe. A History”
I have a book, it’s called “Europe. A History”, written by Norman Davies. It is a rather big book, more than a thousand pages about – obviously – the European history. It took me more than a year to finish, and not only because it is so long and has a very specialized lexicon, but because during the reading I had a strong urge to throw this book at the wall, and had to put it away and cool off a little bit.
Do not mistake me: I loved this book. I finished it two years ago and wanted to write about it since. The author – British historian – undertakes an impossible task: to write about the history of the part of the world we call Europe from the first people there to year 1992 AD. His main objective was to show all parts of Europe in an equal light. He was very subjective what light it should be.
The book taught me one important thing – the thing I probably should have known by now: history is subjective. As diligent as we try to find how people lived hundreds, thousands years ago, what happened, what those events meant – we are not discovering the TRUTH. We are interpreting the evidence. And sometimes we are interpreting interpretations.
The fact that the world history in Russia changed several times in this century – without falsifying any documents – is rather telling.
Norman Davies is unapologetically subjective in his vision of the European history. He presents a brilliant, lively picture where the author’s face is not hidden as it is usually appropriate in this kind of books. His style is flowing easily between countries and centuries, making interesting analogies, surprising connections, and curious hypotheses. He takes an interest in obscure places and epochs and makes them take their rightful place in the building of Europe as we know it now.
So, if the book is that wonderful what caused that violent reaction I was talking about earlier?
You see, he really, really doesn’t like Russia. And he confused Katherine Medici with Maria Medici.
I have a book, it’s called “Europe. A History”, written by Norman Davies. It is a rather big book, more than a thousand pages about – obviously – the European history. It took me more than a year to finish, and not only because it is so long and has a very specialized lexicon, but because during the reading I had a strong urge to throw this book at the wall, and had to put it away and cool off a little bit.
Do not mistake me: I loved this book. I finished it two years ago and wanted to write about it since. The author – British historian – undertakes an impossible task: to write about the history of the part of the world we call Europe from the first people there to year 1992 AD. His main objective was to show all parts of Europe in an equal light. He was very subjective what light it should be.
The book taught me one important thing – the thing I probably should have known by now: history is subjective. As diligent as we try to find how people lived hundreds, thousands years ago, what happened, what those events meant – we are not discovering the TRUTH. We are interpreting the evidence. And sometimes we are interpreting interpretations.
The fact that the world history in Russia changed several times in this century – without falsifying any documents – is rather telling.
Norman Davies is unapologetically subjective in his vision of the European history. He presents a brilliant, lively picture where the author’s face is not hidden as it is usually appropriate in this kind of books. His style is flowing easily between countries and centuries, making interesting analogies, surprising connections, and curious hypotheses. He takes an interest in obscure places and epochs and makes them take their rightful place in the building of Europe as we know it now.
So, if the book is that wonderful what caused that violent reaction I was talking about earlier?
You see, he really, really doesn’t like Russia. And he confused Katherine Medici with Maria Medici.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-10 07:12 am (UTC)Absolutely. What's more, it's not only open to personal biases, but to fashion. The best overview I've seen on the way history changes by the interpretation is in a book by Alison Weir called The Princes in the Tower. It's about the boy-king Edward V and his brother who disappeared into the Tower of London and never reappeared, presumably murdered by their uncle Richard III. There is a chapter early in the book called "Richard and the Historians" and it traces the various portrayls of Richard by chroniclers and historians from the late 15th century to the late 20th century.
This is a man who was vilified for political purposes by the government of his successor -- only to then start to be redeemed the moment Elizabeth I died. Even if you don't read the rest of the book, that chapter in and of itself is a fascinating look at historians and their biases. The author openly admits to having her own, which she reveals on literally the last page.
Which brings me to what I often do with history texts. I'll often read the introduction, sometimes skim it -- then I read the last chapter first. The reason for this is that since this is where the author sums up what they've said, I can usually figure out what particular axe they have to grind. This tells me if I want to read the book (I'll admit to having put down books because they are too far from my personal biases on a period -- particularaly Mary, Queen of Scots, but that's another story) and if I do decide I want to read it, I know up front what the major filters are.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-10 11:01 am (UTC)I try to do the same usually, it is just rarely I saw an academic-type book where an author was so much upfront about his biases (his major interest is Poland – both academic and personal (his wife is Polish)), so it drove home the idea that there is no One True History. Sometimes even there are several opinions on who won a certain battle – not to mention who was right and who was wrong.
And I think I’ll look into the book you are talking about it, it seems interesting.