Obsessed with history in post-historic times: an introduction

 

My starting-point for getting into history was actually that I become annoyed as soon as the topic crops up in conversation or thinking about reading. As it does all the time. It often appears to make things complicated, and I tend to shove it out of the way. In particular, I am haunted by the notion that I kind of have to know the complete historic context of a fictional text to understand the text, and that, without this kind of specialist knowledge, I might miss entirely what the text really is about. This notion will never entirely go away, even though it is obviously useless and has nothing to do with what we do when we are reading, say, a period novel. We are just reading it with what WE bring to the table, and lots of these texts are still understood and loved. I recently noticed that it is probably the other way round: Most of my historic “knowledge” actually comes out of fiction. As I experienced, it gets more complicated with elliptic text like poems. There is a reason that my bad conscience about history will never entirely go away. But just thinking about it gives me nausea because: What is this complete historic context supposed to be? Who or what determines it?

There is a much more promising concept which Claudia nailed in our conversation by calling it the MINDSET of a period. It is probably equally problematic to determine  - there are no “periods”, by the way, in real life, there is just time! - but I think that the idea really has something to do with what I do when I am reading a historic text: To read it, I am changing MY mindset. And I am convinced that I am doing this “automatically” - being aware that it is a historic text - and that this activity is part of the fun. (For example: Reading Shakespeare, I don’t need to read anything ABOUT Shakespeare or his plays. It certainly facilitates it that I already know a few basic things I need to know, but, as soon as I am reading, I am DOING IT already. I am watching out for “Shakespeare”, trying to use the rules that apply to this world.) This will certainly be continued, for now I just set it down that this mindset is what I am probably referring to, should I again venture onto the territory of “historic context”. 😉

The reason, though, why history crops up all the time is equally annoying. It is because I massively prefer period fiction or historic novels to contemporary fiction with contemporary content, and this annoys me. But it is a fact. Almost every time I choose what to watch or read, it becomes a major criterion for my choice. Just this week I chose to see “The Green Knight” because it is a film about an anonymous tale from the Middle-ages, which I must have read at some point because I knew the plot, and this turned out to be a GOOD choice. (Even though it was not my kind of film, I was fascinated with how deep somebody could get into a story which I deemed childish. But seeing the film made me aware that I had already had an idea of what the tale really is about!) Then I chose to see “Land” because I wanted to know what Robin Wright has been up to, which is a film about a contemporary woman dealing with her loss – and, not so surprisingly, it was NOT a good choice! Of course, there are better criteria than admired actors becoming filmmakers I use for choosing contemporary text, but it is my EXPERIENCE that tells me that historic fiction will almost inevitably turn out interesting for me, one way or the other. 

But we live now, as I comprehend, in “post-historic” times, and I am annoyed when I am reminded that I am from the twentieth century. Which is also a fact, though, unlike other people of my age, I have not continued to live IN the twentieth century. I have actually been happy to leave it behind!

At my last encounter with Claudia, we spent almost all the time discussing why we love the British – apart from the obvious = that they are better at everything that matters to us than the rest of the world, which should suffice? – respectively, why Claudia doesn’t anymore in the same way she did in the past. I really dug my heels in because I realized that I didn’t know why I am not as disappointed and disillusioned by recent history as she is, and I wanted to know. Maybe I cling to my illusions, but I think not. I think my most important reason – apart from the obvious! - is that the British, even though they are more forward on everything that matters to me than we are, never throw anything important away just like that – as we do ALL THE TIME. (The reason why everything in Germany except business and football becomes meaningless and hideous, and people flip out when they cannot escape their country at least three times a year – which now becomes an issue as they are trapped by the virus …)

So, I find that there is a necessary relationship with history in my life which transcends the love of knowledge. But as this is my blog, not some kind of feature, I am not satisfied with ready-made concepts about the significance of history but have to look into what really moves my life. This is why thinking about history starts with POST-HISTORY – which I have REALLY understood only a few days ago, following a conversation with my niece about “Harry Potter”. As usual, I am really pleased when one of the children turns out as I predicted. I always had her down as someone who would want to get to the bottom of things – actually from the first time I saw her which, if I remember this correctly, was on the first day of her life, eyes wide open as if it was crucial not to miss anything that was going on … I am afraid this attitude served her well growing up! But even though I am pleased with how she turned out, it is not just a good thing. Getting to the bottom of things may be frightening and exhausting, and I probably wasted a lot of energy on it myself at that age which I might have used for “positive” things. Now she really loves “Harry Potter”, has been obsessed with the books for four years, and is now listening to them in English (– the first few sentences of Stephen Fry reading “The Philosopher’s Stone” finally convinced me to do that too. It’s iconic!) Nonetheless she was really annoyed with J. K. Rowling’s attitude on transsexuality. Basically, that there are biological facts we HAVE to accept. And her fundamental opposition to the concept triggered a deeper understanding of what “post-history” really is about, and why it is inevitable.

I became aware how much I am subconsciously glued to the concept of history or biology as a set of natural laws that determine our reality and our lives. And that this doesn’t necessarily apply to people who were born in the 21^st century. Come to that – it doesn’t NECESSARILY apply to myself either! Only insofar as I am obsessed with reasoning and explaining, but I am well aware that we can change our ATTITUDE. There actually were a few tell-tale moments this last year that showed me that I already had. One of them is in my last post, and it is about getting GENUINELY angry about things that do not seem to CHANGE. Our second big topic, when Claudia and I met, was gender and language, and it had also been for my niece that I had realized that I hadn’t paid it the attention it deserved. I realized that I had been making fun of it – though only of the solution, not the problem! In fact, I have been gender neutral or inclusive when I was WRITING for decades - being a practical feminist by nature, and probably even more fastidious about justice – but I have been making fun of the asterisk because I found it absurd that our language could be so useless in solving a comparatively simple problem. Like any other language I know, by the way, except English. I don’t know, but I love the British even more because of their PRACTICAL – non-fundamentalist – approach to problems. It might actually be the deeper reason why Europe and Britain proved to be fundamentally incompatible? I don’t know who invented “they” as singular, it hasn’t been around for DECADES, that I am sure of … Doesn’t matter, it solves the problem of having to be gender-neutral close to one hundred percent! Speaking with my niece, I understood that I HAD to come to terms with the asterisk. (We might invent an appropriate noise instead of the gap, speaking it … 😉 My colleague, who is much younger than I, has been very creative as well in supplanting Architekt/Architektin by a German equivalent of “PERSON designing buildings”. Basically, the English are just lucky that they don’t have a male and female article – which is also a practical choice, though, as the distinction is utterly useless. I am afraid, in view of what we are left with, we will have to think about solutions like this one instead, and it will NOT be fun! 😝)

There was another moment about half a year ago that becomes important in retrospect because it concerns history. It was during the winter lockdown when the government decided about contact restrictions, and our Bavarian Ministerpräsident decreed that the restrictions for gathering in closed spaces didn’t apply to churches. They were expressly allowed to do as they pleased. I got so angry that I realized for the first time with how much I had put up for decades regarding the Catholic church. I mean, CONSCIOUSLY put up with. I even SAID it, useless as it was: “This is enough. I will not put up with it any longer that an organization that actually violates our constitution by barring people from office because of their sex is not just tolerated but granted special status!” Of course it doesn’t change anything if I said it or not, but getting angry made me realize WHY I had put up with it so far. It wasn’t mainly because of the importance of the institution for so many people’s lives or practical reasons, like charity work. It was because of history – because I knew the history behind it and had been part of it for about a nanosecond, but it became part of my life nonetheless. And the fact that I realized that, if I didn’t withdraw my acceptance, I’d still be complicit even though I have had nothing to do with the institution for decades. If people in Hungary and Poland didn’t put up with their right-wing governments, they’d negate their excuse for bullying so-called “minorities” or journalists.

The question that’s bothering me right now is why I obviously love something so much we might better be rid of, and maybe will be, in the long run. Why I cannot bear the thought that we might “lose” history. As we will if we lose the concept of history as something necessary = as  a means of explaining what determines our present and our lives. And I realize that I need a genuine answer to this, not just the usual educated middle-class prejudices of the kind that printed books are better for you than online videos and therefore must survive. Why history is fundamental to my thinking, my life. Maybe after that I will be better at saying what I actually understand by it.

For one thing, “history” – as the interpretation of facts belonging to the past - might not be so “bad” if I look at it the right way.  Just a few days ago I hit upon this article about a medieval burial in Finland where a person of high status had been buried with both male and female grave goods. As we have now DNA analysis, they actually found out that this person had Klinefelter syndrome, which means XX and Y, chromosome-wise. These people usually have male genitalia but other features of their body may look perceptibly female. The grave goods – comprising a sword and fibula to hold up a female dress! – seem to tell us a lot about the “mindset” of people who obviously had no problems to deal with gender ambiguity. Which is more than can be said for the majority of today’s world population, I am afraid! The article made me aware that much of what we attribute to history is just our own PREJUDICES about former times. As definitely “over” as it might be, history nonetheless is never closed. Although being a “Viking” enthusiast, I had nevertheless been convinced that shield maidens were an inevitable 21^st century addition – which they probably still are! - but DNA analysis recently shed a new light even on that topic. The article mentioned that a chieftain’s burial in Birka (Sweden) had always been believed to contain the remains of a man because the person had been buried with their (!) weapons. DNA analysis revealed that a woman had been buried there, with all the attributes of a Norse chieftain. So – even though it might not have been as common as in the series – somebody like Lagherta DID exist! I use to make fun of archaeology because people always draw far-reaching conclusion from practically no evidence, but it is inevitable. “Post-historical” as we might be, we’ll never cease to be curious about our past.

There is a deeper reason, though, which I have not quite nailed yet, but I realized it recently, making this amazing find. I hit on it, listening to Neil McGregor’s podcast “A History of the World in 100 Objects” (from the British Museum) – and I am quite convinced I have walked past the thing a few times without noticing it because I never look at Roman dishes and stuff. They all seem so much alike, so much like what we have today as well. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway as, without the podcast, I wouldn’t have understood its significance.

(Nonetheless, I vowed to keep my eyes open in museums. And I should make room for a whole day in the British Museum next time. If there will be a next time … At least I have been close to it in my mind and finished “Uncle Vanya”. It is absolutely wonderful. Not only is the beginning so much better, it is getting better and better towards the end. EVERYBODY is so much into it and contributes to the intensity! Just what I love.)

My wonderful object is not a text made of words, it is art, or rather a piece of design. And this time I have to add a picture, and a link. 😟? (I am still very reluctant of links.)

https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/G_1999-0426-1

 

Looking at this beautiful object, I revised immediately the prejudice that Roman artefacts are so much like ours, just with gods and goddesses on them which I cannot tell apart. This was rather more like the poem by Sappho (“He is more than a hero”) which was one of the first poems I hit upon in one of my audio-selections and which made two thousand years go away just like nothing. It made me remember painful love-ache on the spot, which is so far in the past that I couldn’t have recalled the feeling if I wanted to. (And made me aware of how incredibly old I have become.) Likewise, the sexual act represented on the goblet immediately released feelings of a complex nature. First of all, I found it incredibly moving. The tenderness and peacefulness of the scene immediately got through. On the other hand, I was turned on sexually … which is weird? It was a nice surprise – considering the fact how long it had been since something like this happened! - but the only explanation I have is that I never really look at what I expect, I just tick it off, but if something UNEXPECTED appears, I notice it and look at it intently, and the complete content gets a chance to work on me.  On the other hand, I cannot help thinking that, finding something as explicit as this, say, on a contemporary painting in somebody’s house or in a museum would have felt slightly embarrassing. It certainly wouldn’t have felt that GOOD.

And this might even be my favourite experience about text from the past, which happens extremely seldom. That it suddenly makes me feel as if I was “right there”. And it is deceptive, or rather complicated, as in the poem. I would have to understand what the concept of a “hero” meant for the GREEKS to appreciate the state of being MORE than that. (How do you FEEL being a hero?) And the podcast showed me that the beautiful goblet definitely has “layers”. There comes my second favourite thing that seems to happen all the time when history comes into it: Layers. I just love them!😍

My gut reaction to it being so simple and straightforward, I noticed almost immediately that the object itself is totally not. My few remarks until now already are indicative of the fact that my relationship with the Romans is complicated. They have left us such a lot of stuff that I find it confusing. So many prejudices, come to that. But as soon as I am looking at one of their artefacts really closely and realize that they were not just Romans but human beings, I become intrigued. I cannot get into all the layers this simple object displayed to my mind, but I noticed that I only DIDN’T question it as long as I saw it as a museum piece. There is no problem with it being displayed in a museum because it is Roman as well as valuable and artistic. As soon as I am beginning to think that people actually owned it and used it and communicated through it, it becomes totally confusing …

But confusing is good. I actually like “history” when it begins to “undo” me, take my prejudices apart. When I am peeling off a layer and can see another underneath I have not seen before. Besides, there is another feature of “history” I noticed that acts more “de-confusing” and makes it easier to enjoy a thing like this. In this case, I just don’t ask the question which I would have asked in a contemporary context. To show the difference, I just have to imagine that this scene would be on a contemporary designer cup. To try to imagine a context where this would be acceptable! And of course the question would come up if it is “okay” to show this because of the age difference. It wouldn’t be something like child pornography because the bodies of the youngsters indicate clearly that they are not children but young men. Nonetheless, a contemporary context would render the lovely scene so much more ambiguous. Don’t we know anyway that asymmetrical homosexual relationships were part of antique culture? As it turns out, it was NEVER that simple … 

And this is the most intriguing layer of all, in my opinion, which in fact demanded specialist knowledge to be revealed. According to Neil McGregor, it wasn’t something like the deadly sin of the Middle-ages but it wasn’t what a proper Roman SHOULD do. Even though the Romans WERE debauched – the richer the more so, quite like “we” are, by the way, and the people using this cup undoubtedly were very rich - there was a much stronger sense of how to be virtuous, maybe comparable to “our” body and health obsession. And it was NOT virtuous to have it off with younger men - or men, come to that. This is important to know to appreciate the last “twist” about this intriguing thing of beauty. As every Roman at the time would have instantly known by their attributes, as their hair-style: the men depicted on the goblet are GREEK. So, irrespective of the fact if its owners wanted to be “virtuous” or appear so, the fine line hadn’t been crossed. It wasn’t even as in: this is what the Greeks DO. No, they are “period” Greeks, from before the time when Greece itself became part of the Roman Empire!

For me, this story of a beautiful Roman object falling into a contemporary context with a double twist to the historic ballast it carries, explains why somebody genuinely interested in the “human stuff” will never be able to live without history, even though post-history has to come on top. And, by the way: Isn’t this also a great story about how history has always been used to deconstruct itself - underneath it all?