The Trappings of History
Usually, the mention of “history” is enough to send people into a drunken stupor. But that’s alright; to each, their own.
When I was a child, history was quite an interesting field of study. Reading about the rise and fall of empires, the learnings of civilizations past..it was always an eye-opener. It was like reaching back in time, to people who were just like me: human beings with dreams, with aspirations. Some of those people rose up to their calling..and they made history.
There’s one incident I clearly remember. It’s not an incident, per se — more like a series of incidents — but it taught me that history is not just glamorous.When I was in grade three, my mother brought me this encyclopedia. It was — and is — one of my most cherished possessions. When I started reading it, I came across a chapter on Nazi Germany. This was an illustrated encyclopedia, so there was a file photograph of Hitler and the Nazi leadership at a rally in Nuremberg, 1933. That photograph actually made me want to be a part of that rally. At that point of time, I knew nothing of the Holocaust; I knew not, of how evil Hitler really was. The encyclopedia included an extract of one of Hitler’s early speeches in German; I remember standing on my bed for hours at an end, imagining cheering crowds all around me, with me reciting that speech verbatim.
Come grade nine, and I learnt about the Holocaust. I was shocked. And I was, in many ways, ashamed, of the fact that I admired a person who actually committed such crimes against humanity. That is when I learnt: History isn’t always glamorous. There are those darker sides to it as well. Darker sides, that one wishes one had never found. But there they are, plain as day.
In grade ten, I was quite close to my English Lit. teacher. So when I was done with my GCSEs, he lent me a book. The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova. I wouldn’t want to go into what the book entails here. But while that book was mostly a work of fiction, it told me what the craft of a historian is all about.
We historians..we’re in our own little world. Our thoughts are all about what happened in the past. Living in the present is exceedingly difficult. Looking towards the future, more so. We can actually see history being made, when we close our eyes. I can see those poor Jews being led to the gassing chambers in Auschwitz. I can picture that young Russian man murdered by his comrades in a KGB prison. I can hear the cries of noblemen being impaled by Vlad the Impaler. I can feel the joy of the crowds, cheering for victory on Victory Day, 1945. I’ve never really understood, why people look down on the art of a historian, with such disdain. Is it a shame, to unravel the secrets of our ancestors? One wonders. Yet, one never truly understands. You may think us mad — but that is how we are. Maybe we like being caught in humanity’s past. After all, isn’t it an interesting past? Isn’t that what history is? “His Story” — Man’s story?
