Journal Entries:~Postmodernism
and History |
Postmodernism and HistoryKeith Jenkins’s assertion that “History is theoretical all the way down,” recognizes that historians operate from a worldview, replete with presuppositions that color one’s view of life. Postmodern theory challenges modern assumption that these presuppositions can be overcome to allow for the production of “objective” history. So with their critique, deconstruction, and decoding, what does (or would) a postmodern history look like? Postmodernism, by definition, resists all attempt to attribute one "true" historical meaning to past events. It champions relativism and wants to hear a variety of experiences and viewpoints. Because Postmodernism believes “Truth” is unattainable, if existent, their histories look beyond mere documents or events to"deconstruct" the "hidden" meaning beneath--man's perpetual search for power. Therefore, the historian becomes a guide who unleashes the reader into the actual subject itself—replete with textual, oral, and visual sources retelling the stories of those previously shut-out by those seeking power. I envision postmodern histories to be montages of sort, filled with lots of different ideas and viewpoints (specifically from minority groups) but refusing to comment or provide one dominant interpretation. This is difficult to imagine in a book, because books by their nature encourage linear, connected narrative thinking. However, a postmodern book might be a collection of essays written by a diversity of people, with no clear thesis to prove, but only an event, or theme or person to explore or to "deconstruct." The web provides a clearer vision for what postmodern history could look like. Montages of information come together much more easily on the web. Through hyperlinks viewers guide themselves through historical information, to other related pages, and so on. Lev Manovich writes, “Many new media objects do not tell stories; they do not have any development, thematically, formally, or otherwise that would organize their elements into a sequence. Instead, they are collections of individual items, with every item possessing the same significance as the other.” (The Forms, 218). I wonder if this is not the future of postmodern history? No narrative, not even a directive thesis, rather, history becomes the short snippets from past life that people put together for themselves. Using the database model that Manovich posits is the organizing principle of the computer; narrative no longer becomes the dominant or necessary method for presenting history. Further, just as databases remain open ended—always expanding (possibly restructured), so history can remain more open ended and feel more like a process than a complete identity. Could it be, as he asks, that the post-modern history “is a collection, not a story”? 24 September 2002 |
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Discussions on the promises of digital scholarship highlight three possibilities for innovation. First, Edward Ayers identifies the emergence of a “more literary …history… that let us deal more effectively with multiple sequences, multiple voices, multiple outcomes, multiple implications.”1 Second, Randall Bass suggests utilizing “hypermedia to alter the nature of the essay … by shifting the relationship between argument and artifact.”2 Through interactivity the distance between argument and evidence diminishes, thus helping the reader to understand historical relationships. Thirdly, the vetting process becomes more diverse and the possibilities for interpretation flourish with freer access. Choosing to focus upon urban history I asked whether two websites relating to New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles, had met these digital promises. City Sites is an interdisciplinary, collaborative project that explores “the meanings and forms of American Urbanism in New York and Chicago in the modern period.” An innovative “electronic book,” the authors achieve all three promises for digital scholarship. Leading their readers visually, rather than textually, they present an intriguing narrative that follows more than a linear “book” logic. Thus the narratives of Chicago architecture or New York African American culture are evaluated on multiple layers—physical, psychological, social culture. Through quotes, interpretive analysis, images and maps, the argument and evidence merge to create a closer cohesion of topic. argument and evidence. So, when evaluating Jacob Riis’s reform work on the Lower East of Manhattan, the author connects “the visual and textual discourse … to the concepts of space and place which have become so important in site-analysis.”3 Most significantly, this site was created to provide a stimulating intellectual forum among historians and the public. The authors note that “the e-book does offer special opportunities to develop a praxis of urban study which brings together very different modes or styles (national, theoretical, disciplinary) based on the notion of juxtaposition rather than synthesis.”4 While still providing
layers of structural analysis, Los
Angeles and the Problems of Urban Historical Knowledge, confronts
the epistemological problems related to urban studies. The site’s
narrative incorporates Ayers suggestion for digital scholarship encompassing
multiple layers of life and thought. Unfortunately, while his images,
maps, and panoramas are visually appealing, he does not meld his “evidence”
as closely with his narrative. Often contained under separate headings,
visual and text remain separated, thus the ability to allow the medium
to make the argument is lost. Interested in creating more informed discussions
of urban studies, the site author wrote that his “site is also
an experiment in pursuing some empirical and interpretive strategies,
in the hopes that we will soon move to a more productive stage of comparative
urban historical scholarship.”5
In such a short review, it is hard to do justice to this site. His theoretical
conception is quite good, it just needs more tweaking in order to harness
the powers of the web to create a stronger reliance between argument
and evidence. |
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Images of hanging bodies and of gawking crowds fade in and out on the computer screen. A troubled voice narrates the history of these images—photographs of lynchings conducted across the South and Mid-West in the early twentieth century. Though not a historian, James Allen’s website, Without Sanctuary, successfully challenges his audiences to face a gory (and often ignored) part of American history. He presents a simple interpretation that accuses modern America of not dealing with this issue. Allen shares how these images challenge him. “Studying these photos has engendered in me a caution of whites, of the majority, of the young, of religion, of the accepted. … It wasn't the corpse that bewildered me as much as the canine-thin faces of the pack, lingering in the woods, circling after the kill.” His site lacks in-depth historical contextualization, but his wandering commentary challenges his audience to think—if nothing else, about his view of America’s history and race relations. Allen also appears to challenge his viewers. One insightfully noted that, “by being in the form of a postcard makes the actions in the pictures seem ordinary and they are far from ordinary. They are awful. Overall I was appalled at the pictures, but I was glad that I saw them because I feel I have a greater understanding as to how atrocious the lynchings were.” Another student reviewer noted “The pictures help to humanize the acts when a face can be directly related to the story.” While successful in challenging his viewers to re-evaluate American history, Allen’s site also challenges historians. While including explanations with many of the images, no citations exist. Occasionally he sites books or newspapers, but never does he provide a full reference. The photos are hard to see and in some cases, the viewer must trust his commentary. More significantly, Allen’s site lacks contextualization and thus misses a larger historical issue important to understanding lynching. His site presents photos of Italian immigrants lynched for their lack of support for the local union (photo no. 6), of black men lynching black men (photo no. 51), and of white men lynching white men (photo no. 63). In one photo of a black lynching by a white mob, according to Allen the mob actually hung the Mayor when he tried to impede their actions (photo no. 80). The issue that ties all of these photographs together, but which Allen does not address, is that of vigilante justice at the turn of the twentieth century. Without Sanctuary narrowly focuses upon racial intolerance and strictly appeals to the emotions. He refuses to utilize the natural emotional response of the viewer as a springboard to guide the viewer through a critical evaluation of this time period—its view of law, of race, and of crime. The fact that many of these images come from professional photography studios and are sent proudly across the U.S. also raises more questions about the country’s view of lynching. In one of his commentaries, Allen notes that the U.S. government forbade the sending of postcards depicting lynchings and death scenes. What does this suggest about the government’s view of lynchings as opposed to the popular view? As a historian, this site challenged me to question the nature of “credible” history. While I believe it is important to discuss all parts of America’s past—the glory and the grime—it is important to do so with credible evidence and also with the goal of encouraging critical analysis, rather than just emotional responses. I applaud Allen’s efforts to challenge America to face a gruesome part of its past. This site not only challenges historians to report all of the past, but it also challenges them to present history that appeals to the mind as well as the heart. Asking critical questions about the past—in this case race relations—often produces the best discussions about current ones. 28 October
2002 |