Tuesday, November 17, 2009

History and Film

For this week’s readings on the issues surrounding history and film, I found the main theme to be the obligation of the historian as the means to regulate historical accuracy. Really, the obligation of the historian in all aspects of public history has been at the heart of all the readings this semester. I agree with most scholars that suggest historians, whether public or academic, have a responsibility to record history as it was, while using imaginative means to engage people without distorting the truth or imposing interpretations that seek to meet a personal agenda.

This does not mean, however, that I agree with Rose and Corley’s theory that historians should transcend into the filmmaker’s role. Davis’ article illustrated this dilemma where she discussed her role as a historian on the set of Le Retour de Martin Guerre and the power struggles that ensued between her and the producers. It was interesting how her response to resolve inaccuracies was to write a book that explained the distortions and presented the accurate interpretations. This brings me to the point that Toplin makes that historians must take an active role in the discussion of movies. He argues that if historians do not remain in the discussion that it will be the “nonprofessionals who offer glib remarks on television talk shows.” (83)

Just as in other contested cases we have read this semester, it really boils down to the fact that the media will pick up the loudest voice on the topic. In most cases, this is not a person with the credentials to do so, but more so an individual with a personal agenda. I feel the readings, this week especially, argue that, that voice needs to be the historian who can dispel the inaccuracies. This is particularly relevant when dealing with such a high profile medium, such as film.

Film reaches a wide range of audiences and because of its popularity often used as an educational tool. This illustrates another issue brought up in Frisch and Rose Corley about public funds. Should NEH or public monies be used to fund major films and documentaries? Examples of Kens Burns productions and the Vietnam documentary demonstrate the tension between entertainment and obligation to accuracy.

My thoughts on this are that a film’s primary role is to entertain—not to educate, a filmmaker’s role is to create, not to educate and a historian’s role is to interpret, present and educate—not create. Since their seems to be ambiguity as to whether or not a filmmaker should be considered a historian, I would argue, no, because in most cases, they do not have the credentials or training to do so. Therefore, unless a historical film is going to submit to a process that ensures historical accuracies in all areas, then no, a film should not receive public money under the premise that the film is an instructional tool. This is not to say that historical films cannot be used as instructional tools, I actually think they can, but students need to be taught how to question them.

Overall, I thought the readings spoke very well to each other and they present compelling arguments for why this is such an important issue.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Terkel

Hard Times by Studs Terkel is a fascinating look at The Great Depression through a variety of oral histories. The book, first published in 1970 and then again in 1986, the version we read carries an interesting tone of how interviewees perceived the current economic climate of that time. This perception is most likely influenced from their experience with The Great Depression and is an interesting concept to explore in relation to memory. Just how does one’s memory not only differ from one person to the next, but also how it effects how one views similar events in the present and how they predict the future. The oral histories also reflect the difference in memories between classes and interestingly enough how the memories of the lower classes, of extreme poverty and destitution are those images most often associated with the depression. It is not often students are told the stories of men like General Robert E. Woods, who founded All State Insurance in 1931, during the midst of the Depression. While I do remember learning about how extremely affluent names like Rockefeller were not affected by the Depression, I always thought that to be the anomaly, not to hear so many stories of people successfully coming through the Depression. It is not to say that the images of destitution are wrong, but that without histories like those presented by Terkel, we are usually only given one side. This example alludes to the dialogue at the beginning of the book between Pa Joad and Preacher Casey about truth and really “whose truth is it?” Memories held certain truths for one man, but an entirely different truth for another. This is especially prevalent between the classes.

It was disheartening to read the stories about how harsh upper class members of society came down on lower class members. They really believed that the lower class was at fault for their desperation. Statements like, “A person doesn’t have to be poor,” by W. Clement Stone was alarming at how much empathy he lacked. (451) Rereading a quote from the Forward, “Ours, the richest country in the world, may be the poorest in memory,” makes me wonder, which era was influencing his memory. (xvii) In this case it seems as though the distance in time and his affluence may have skewed his memories of the 30s.

Overall, I thought this was an amazing book. Kudos to Terkel for compiling such a great collection of histories that really give a great visual of both sides of the Depression. The book gives credence to the importance oral histories have as primary sources.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Burton

This week’s reading, Archive Stories by Antoinette Burton was an interesting collection of essays about historian’s experiences with archives. When I began reading this book, during the Introduction, I began to think of the African Nationalism class I took, where my first exposure to the fact that records are in fact destroyed when a government wants to control what is remembered. This information also lead to the fact that like the Aboriginal History Wars, archives that did contain documents were located in European institutions, controlled by the nations that dispossessed the Indigenous populations. Like the Tasmanian case, the historical texts I read for that class, relied heavily on oral histories to attempt to collect the memories from the bottom up instead of the top down. And like other academics mentioned, the students in our class questioned the validity of these archival resources. Although I do not think it is always the case, on the one hand, the government is accused of skewing history in its favor, on the other, public memory could be recorded to create their own history. This tension of power between a colonial state and the dispossessed people is what I believe lies at the heart of Burton’s argument. She illustrates the fact that historians interpret historical facts, but also that the facts can be skewed through the absence or withholding of information, painting archivists in some cases as gatekeepers. In Durba Ghosh’s essay we also see how these power plays are at work where judgment about a researcher’s topic attempts to sway her away from exposing a presumed scandal that some individuals do not think be included in a national narrative. The resolution I believe Burton gets at is that the responsibility lies with the researcher, the individual who ultimately makes history available to the public through their publications.