Hindsight
In reference to a long discussion that took place in the comments section of this blog a little while ago, we thought we would share the following passage from the introduction to Rise to Rebellion by Jeff Shaara, an historical novel about the events leading up to the American Revolution:
It has become fashionable in our modern, more cynical time to reexamine our history, to throw a supposedly new light on those who are famous for their accomplishments, to instead expose their faults, to topple the statue of the hero, to replace the honor and respect with the sensational and the shameful, as though it were the only meaningful way these characters can be relevant to today’s world. I most adamantly disagree. That we know so much about these characters today is a testament to their accomplishments, their extraordinary achievements, and, yes, their astounding heroism. That they can so easily become targets is a testament to their humanity. They are, after all, so very much like us. Measuring their behavior with the crystal clarity of hindsight, with twenty-first-century standards and judgments, is a convenient and cynical shortcut to learning history, but it does little to help us understand their character and why they deserve too be not only remembered, but revered.
September 3rd, 2008 at 12:51 pm
Dang. Missed yet another dust-up.
Is it okay if I enjoy reading Austen because I think she’s a brilliant observer of humanity and possesses a wonderfully snarky narrator’s voice? Do I really have to sort out how she would vote in the upcoming election, and then reject her if her vote wouldn’t line up with mine?
September 3rd, 2008 at 1:19 pm
“Deserve to be revered”? Does _any_ human deserve to be revered?
Even if one allows that, I bet my list of those deserving reverence would intersect very little with that of Shaara. It would include, for example, an obscure woman who was perfect in her art.
September 3rd, 2008 at 1:32 pm
The other day I ran into a forgotten friend, who told me he was now working as a surveyor. I asked him if he knew that George Washington, in his youth, was also a surveyor. He smiled and answered, “Yes I do. It’s one proud profession.”
Years apart, but I think my friend and young Mr. Washington would have gotten along just fine, even without knowing each others politics.
September 3rd, 2008 at 3:37 pm
Well, my point in posting that is that it’s easy to sling mud from our smug 21st-century viewpoints, however out of place it may be to do so, but that sort of misses the reasons why we remember historical personages (such as Jane Austen AND the Founding Fathers) in the first place.
September 3rd, 2008 at 6:24 pm
It is easy to sling mud when these people are long dead. I personally wouldn’t speak as freely about Jane Austen, even in my compliments, if she were actually around. I imagine, if I could talk with her, that scene would go something like Mr. Collins introducing himself to Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield Ball.
September 4th, 2008 at 8:48 am
One aspect of the recent “long discussion” that really irritated me was the implication that Austen was somehow less worthy a writer because she wasn’t a rabble-rouser like Wollstonecraft, or because she wasn’t writing about the plight of mill workers like Gaskell or Irish peasants like Maria Edgeworth.
Austen illuminated–brilliantly–the quiet corners of life where most of us spend the vast majority of our time. I think that is why the works still resonate so deeply today. It’s after you survive a Willoughby or two, have a run-in with a Caroline Bingley, realize that you are living next door to Miss Bates, and find that your parents are turning into Mr. Woodhouse that you truly appreciate Austen’s eye and the skill of her pen. Critics who gripe about what Austen didn’t write, instead of thoughtfully looking at the work she did produce do not add much to a meaningful discussion of her work. And anyone who dismisses her as simply a clever crafter of happily-ever-after love stories, is IMO, a very shallow reader.
September 4th, 2008 at 8:59 am
That is so true. I mean…what would I say to this woman? I’d be all thumbs. When I was totally into one musician (Todd Rundgren), I met him as he stepped out of an old station wagon in downtown Chicago. So unexpected, so fantastic. I froze and said nothing! Oh my goodness. With meeting Jane, if (when) I could talk, it would be more like, “Remember when Catherine thought she offended the General?” It would be awful.
I’d be counting on one of you to push me aside (like a door) and save our short interview. Place me in the corner, and after she finished playing her favorite music, I would believe it would be the best evening of my life.
Don’t let me ask her for an autograph (would that be too much?) Please.
September 4th, 2008 at 9:52 am
(Maria L.) “Austen illuminated–brilliantly–the quiet corners of life where most of us spend the vast majority of our time. I think that is why the works still resonate so deeply today. It’s after you survive a Willoughby or two, have a run-in with a Caroline Bingley, realize that you are living next door to Miss Bates, and find that your parents are turning into Mr. Woodhouse that you truly appreciate Austen’s eye and the skill of her pen.”
Maria, THANK YOU for that lovely comment! It sums up my life so well, and I’m relieved to find quiet corners in the midst of turmoil.
September 4th, 2008 at 12:54 pm
Tina B: I suspect that Miss Austen’s manners were all that they should have been, and that she would have been gracious if you had approached her.
September 8th, 2008 at 1:20 pm
Austens powers of observation and understanding of human nature were ahead of her time! As for her contempories- both men and women writters- Jane Austen has no equal. Maureen Dowd sometimes reminds me of J.A..
James