History
Between work shifts today I visited Jasper, Karin’s cat, whom I regard as my own son. We shared a lunch of turkey and stuffing. We were very happy together. Then, as I was leaving, I slipped down the icy stairs: bump, bump, bump. (Karin has since bought a bucket of salt.)
For my U.S./Latin American Foreign Relations class, I’ve been reading a grim little book, Secret History: The CIA’s Classified Account of Its Operations in Guatemala, 1952–1954. Its gimmick is that it includes gaps in the text, like this:
I’ve been wondering again (I’ve been wondering this for many years): why does it matter to study history? Lately, I’ve been inclined to say that the chief value of “doing” history lies in presentation. In other words, the chief value is in fashioning or in appreciating a pleasant object. The value is aesthetic.
I wish more historians would take this to heart.
For my U.S./Latin American Foreign Relations class, I’ve been reading a grim little book, Secret History: The CIA’s Classified Account of Its Operations in Guatemala, 1952–1954. Its gimmick is that it includes gaps in the text, like this:
Text text text [ ] text text text text text text text text text text text text [ ] text text text text text text text text text text …representing passages in the historian’s narrative deemed unfit for declassification. These gaps give the text an ominous air. They may be the best thing about the book.
I’ve been wondering again (I’ve been wondering this for many years): why does it matter to study history? Lately, I’ve been inclined to say that the chief value of “doing” history lies in presentation. In other words, the chief value is in fashioning or in appreciating a pleasant object. The value is aesthetic.
I wish more historians would take this to heart.