I like to picture my witch in a golden frame. Probably shaped with roses growing all over it. A frame that looks like one your grandmother would have kept, or one to find in a museum. One of those pompous picture frames you‘d find when visiting old castles. My witch deserves to be framed on a wall in the castle of Versailles, don‘t you think? Probably wearing a white shift dress, the hairstyle just about to fall apart, while smiling at the observer with naturally red lips, and a mirror in her back giving the whole image its sparkle.
This image is an invitation to wonder about what kind of story she would have to tell. What would have happened between the two dates that have been estimated as her beginning and end? Was she happy? Does she approve of the painting you are looking at? Would you like to switch places with her?
„I wonder if she ever knew someone like J., and if she would have fallen for him“, I say and hear my witch giggle from behind.
„Of course she did“, Layla responds. „Some people are made for it.“ The same kind of people that like to talk about themselves in third person, I think.
But this post is not about a girl running after a fragile boy. This one is about the image in the picture frame and what we use it for.
Observing the past …
When looking back into the past, there are several reactions each of us has probably had now and then.
Maybe you remember being amazed by something people accomplished much sooner or with much less knowledge than you would have assumed was needed. I remember being 12 years old and amazed by the heated floors in Roman houses.
You probably have also been looking back to discover terrifying things that maybe even had you wonder how people were able to cope with. We have probably all been told the tales of people in medieval times not washing themselves, as well as having black teeth and smelling terribly. Today we have evolved, while humans before us lived under inhumane conditions we today couldn‘t bare anymore, right?
Okay, I hope I‘ve lost most of you there. Because this is not how it works. This is not a useful way of looking at history.
The question I am trying to deal with in this post is that of perspective.
Can we look at the past completely neutral? Is there a neutral perspective not shaped by any kind of reality we as an observer got used to? Can we simply explore written records and archaeological evidence with a sober mind to carefully reconstruct the past piece by piece, until the new knowledge is complete enough to be printed into the next generation of history books?
Reconstructing the past?
Among historians, there seem to be (some) voices agreeing with this. I am aware of this not because I am a historian, but have worked with them a lot, and am studying the history of science (which points me in another direction).
So, according to this one particular view, the past seems to be the past in a picture frame ready to be accessed, studied, and understood. Because we are rational beings, right? We can do it!
While considering this, I always have to think of so many things we have once gotten wrong. Do you know how long it took us to figure out that the ancient Greek statues were never meant to be white, but actually colourful? Too long! And once the colour was discovered, our whole understanding of those ancient cultures changed, as well as our understanding of ourselves. As a western culture born in 18th century enlightenment inspired by the sophisticated democracy of the antiquity, how do we deal with plain white changing into a colour explosion? We will have to rewrite our history books … and our diaries as well?
Reflecting the present?
If you agree with me that such a process is chaotic and yet potentially a lot of fun to witness, there is another perspective available for us. One that tries to be aware of the two points in time we are trying to cover, meaning our own as the point of observer and the one that we are observing. From this perspective, we look at the past to understand ourselves and how to tell our story. Looking at history does not just have the goal of reconstructing things that were, but comprehending how we ended up the way we did.
So, we simply use the fate of people from the past to justify ourselves? We do not reconstruct simply in empathy and respect of things that were, but always also for reflecting on the present state?
To be honest, the first time I had to discuss these two perspectives on history in a class in university, I was deeply torn and asked just that question. I asked if there wasn‘t a worth in only reconstructing, and if we had the right to use the past for our own causes.
The discussion I steered up there was fun, if you have the guts for it.
And the truth is … ?
I also remember another discussion, that actually wasn‘t as much fun. This one was about the wonderful and problematic term of „writing history“.
Historians remember the past through writing history. They collect the facts, put them into history books, and preserve the thing that was. Always in the correct way? That is a good question, and one that will keep us awake for many more nights to come. It never gets boring.
The painful thing in one particular discussion I remember was the question if there even was any kind of truth that can be discovered. And if so, does it matter? Does it matter how things actually happened, or is any twist we read and write into the past just a justified way of reflecting on ourselves?
Does the truth matter?
I would say that yes it does, because I don‘t want to ever have a discussion about writing history without truth as a thing in it. If we are able to ever access it fully unbiased is a different question, and one that I would be careful with.
So, back to the image in the golden frame to make some sense of my chaotic thoughts tonight.
When looking at my witch in her pretty frame, I start to compare ourselves. I start to wonder about the moments in which she was happy, the people she loved, the people she lost, and I want to have her hair! I also wonder about the torture she endured, the many possible ways she could have died, how I would have reacted to it, and I feel close to her in a way.
I think this closeness matters.
I think it is important to understand that the distance between our points in time is very small. She also did not want to be in pain, did not want to smell, and mourned when people died.
There is knowledge about the past that can be accessed and need to be to write a satisfying story. If I read stories about medieval people not grieving their children because many of them died anyway, or not knowing how to wash themselves, I know that something is off. These narratives produce a distance that is artificial, and does not fit the historical record. This narrated distance is a way to tell something about ourselves. Look how much we have evolved! Look how clean we are!
Then again, we can never look at the historical record without bringing with us our own perspectives. We will always be surprised by accomplishments, shocked by horrors endured, and full of our own emotions.
Wait, what am I talking about? Writing history or writing historical fiction – Is there a difference?
I can tell you, I have been in discussions recently where the difference was blurred out. The historian has a narrative, and so has the novelist. The people from the past cannot be asked anymore, so who cares anyway?
This is a big risk of the second perspective I introduced. It can lure away from any traces of truth.
I still tend to the second way of looking at the practice or writing history. I like to be aware of all the traps I can fall into.
Maybe that is the only conclusion I have drawn so far. At least I know that I am biased?
„Of course you are“, my witch giggles. „You summoned me here through space and time and ask me about stupid boys.“
I was inspired by reading the “Handbook for the Historiography of Science” by M. L. Condé & M. Salomon publ. in 2023.
Mistress witch writes 