The rise and fall of Clio
Alethea Hayter
THINKING WITH HISTORY by Carl E. Schorske Princeton, £16.95, pp. 256
If we locate ourselves in history's stream, we can begin to look at ourselves and our men- tal life, whether personal or collective, as conditioned by the historical present as it defines itself out of — or against — the past.
This form of `thinking with history', of `meaning-making for the educated classes', is the cultural practice to which this book is devoted. It is divided into two main sec- tions: 'Clio Ascendant', describing Euro- pean 19th-century movements of thought which were pervaded by historical exem- plars and precedents, and 'Clio Eclipsed' which, concentrating on Vienna from the mid-19th century on, shows the development of an ahistorical modernism, in architecture, music, theatre and psychol- ogy as well as in political alignments. This is the solidest section of the book, with interesting chapters on Mahler and Freud, but its in-depth treatment and detail of local developments make it less accessible to English readers than the lighter 'Clio Ascendant' section, chiefly based on British examples.
To illustrate the mediaeval revival in 19th-century England — the concept of mediaeval England as a comprehensive model of the good society — Professor Schorske presents Coleridge, Pugin and Disraeli, an interesting but eclectic choice, but it seems odd to exclude Carlyle and Past and Present from such a survey. Equal- ly surprising is the omission of Cobbett and his Great Wen from the chapter on the idea of the city as embodying virtue or vice. But this section is full of stimulating insights. Pugin is shown, with the aid of excellent illustrations, as exemplifying the communitarian values of Gothic as opposed to Classical architecture, but also as a forefather of modern functionalism, as opposed to mere decoration, in his build- ings. An amusing chapter, 'The Quest for the Grail', compares Wagner and William Morris, starting at the opposite poles of radical commitment and legendary roman- ticism and crossing over in mid-life so that each ended where the other started. In some ways Wagner is the presiding spirit of this book; he appears again and again as the culture hero of Viennese students, the invoker of Greek and Germanic historical models, the political activist, the priest of a pseudo-religion of art. In a final chapter Professor Schorske endeavours — perhaps not altogether successfully — to draw together the disparate elements in this reflective and provocative book into a coherent theme. He surveys the evolution of history as a separate subject and discipline, which formerly concerned itself with 'politics, warfare and cataclysm' but which now chooses to concentrate on culture in the widest sense, including anthropology, linguistics and literary criticism, but no longer to explore the link between cultural values and power struc- tures. The modern historian's approach is synchronic rather than progressive.
Professor Schorske's exemplars, whether they accepted, reacted against, or altogeth- er refused to acknowledge the value of his- tory's legacy, were at least an educated intelligentsia who knew that such a legacy had been bequeathed. Historians today have, however, to confront a public many of whom are quite unaware of any such bequest, a generation whose glances slide past what to them are meaningless, inexpli- cable relics of an unknown past. Professor Schorske records his jerk back to earth when, after one of his lectures at Berkeley on intellectual history, he overheard one his student audience disgustedly mutter, And they call that a dialogue!' She wanted to argue; she saw no need to learn. I am reminded of an experience of mine in the Sainte Chapelle in Paris. A young woman came up to me and said, 'You're English, aren't you? Can you tell me about this place?' Well,' I began, 'it was built by Saint Louis. . . "Saint Louis?' was her puzzled reply. Realising I must simplify, I went on, `Yes, it was built by a king of France who went on a crusade. . . "Crusade?' she asked, bewildered. Despairingly I perse- vered. 'Yes, he went on a journey to the Mediterranean, and brought back a sacred relic, the Crown of Thorns. . . "Crown of Thorns?' she queried, still more at sea. At that point I gave up; I felt unable to insert any idea of the significance of the Sainte Chapelle into a mind which had been given no context of European history or Chris- tian belief at all. Will Clio soon be not merely eclipsed but extinguished in general consciousness?
Previous page
