It's history week
at Slate
This piece by David Greenberg on writing history is certainly pertinent. I am under no illusions about the relevance of my research to a broader readership, and it is hard to restrain a snicker when I hear enthusiastic fellow scholars discussing the monumental importance of the history of the nail file. Of course, it is not the 'history of the nail file'! It is a layered discussion of how social conditioning towards personal grooming led to shifting paradigms in terms of visual culture and the aesthetics of personal identity. Whatever. I don't see that flying off the shelves at Borders anytime soon. Face it, if even other historians are sliding into a coma when they hear about your research, your chances of appealing to Josephine Q. Public are nonexistent. Of course, we're far too polite to admit that a topic is BORING. It's a bit of an 'Emperor's New Clothes' pattern, nobody wants to be the one who responds to a densely incomprehensible paper with "huh?". (or worse yet, "so what?") There are some historians who pride themselves on pitching their work outside the interests of the reading public, assuming that only other scholars will be the audience. This may be fair enough, but these are often the same people who are assuming that they will publish their dissertation as a book. If you are aiming at a global audience of 5, you are not offering a publisher a particularly attractive commodity. (Funny how many smart people seem not to grasp this)
The thing is, most historians (as opposed to cultural theorists and polemicists with various agendas who end up in history faculties) became interested in the subject because of popular histories. I'm sure Ken Burns' documentaries have done more to draw students towards history than a thousand micro-focussed monographs. Big history, sweeping stories, interesting characters. That is the stuff that inspires interest. Of course, it is not the stuff that makes a dissertation in today's academy. Therein lies the rub.
This piece by David Greenberg on writing history is certainly pertinent. I am under no illusions about the relevance of my research to a broader readership, and it is hard to restrain a snicker when I hear enthusiastic fellow scholars discussing the monumental importance of the history of the nail file. Of course, it is not the 'history of the nail file'! It is a layered discussion of how social conditioning towards personal grooming led to shifting paradigms in terms of visual culture and the aesthetics of personal identity. Whatever. I don't see that flying off the shelves at Borders anytime soon. Face it, if even other historians are sliding into a coma when they hear about your research, your chances of appealing to Josephine Q. Public are nonexistent. Of course, we're far too polite to admit that a topic is BORING. It's a bit of an 'Emperor's New Clothes' pattern, nobody wants to be the one who responds to a densely incomprehensible paper with "huh?". (or worse yet, "so what?") There are some historians who pride themselves on pitching their work outside the interests of the reading public, assuming that only other scholars will be the audience. This may be fair enough, but these are often the same people who are assuming that they will publish their dissertation as a book. If you are aiming at a global audience of 5, you are not offering a publisher a particularly attractive commodity. (Funny how many smart people seem not to grasp this)
The thing is, most historians (as opposed to cultural theorists and polemicists with various agendas who end up in history faculties) became interested in the subject because of popular histories. I'm sure Ken Burns' documentaries have done more to draw students towards history than a thousand micro-focussed monographs. Big history, sweeping stories, interesting characters. That is the stuff that inspires interest. Of course, it is not the stuff that makes a dissertation in today's academy. Therein lies the rub.
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