tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91479152360216217262024-03-13T02:33:00.517-07:00Weaving the WebA string of thoughts from a Public History student and her attempts at navigating both the historical and the world wide websShelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-84695896803817883102010-11-07T14:49:00.000-08:002010-11-07T14:52:20.716-08:00Moved!This blog has been continued at the <span style="font-style: italic;">Canada's History </span>website, which can be found at <a href="http://canadashistory.ca/Education/Young-Historians/Weaving-the-Web.aspx">http://canadashistory.ca/Education/Young-Historians/Weaving-the-Web.aspx</a><br /><br />Please find other Public Historians under the "Young Historians" section. Thanks for reading!Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-70408170702090340172010-03-29T11:12:00.000-07:002010-04-12T14:23:19.765-07:00Some successes, a few frustrationsI've officially finished transcribing the letters from my Social Memory project. I still have quite a bit to do, but I thought I would take a moment to reflect on some great moments as well as a few of the frustrations I have encountered as I have worked through this project over the past few months.<br /><br />I'll start with the frustrations, as they are (fortunately) not too extensive. The greatest would be the lack of information available on British soldiers who fought in World War One. As Gerald joined up with the British Expeditionary Force the majority of soldiers mentioned in the letters are British. This information is available only through the <a href="http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/">National Archives</a> in London, where the records haven't been transcribed or digitized. <a href="http://www.ancestry.ca/">Ancestry.ca</a> holds some records but charges a fee for viewing. It seems odd to me that Canadian records are widely available online but that those of British soldiers are not so readily accessible. Fortunately, the Oxford and Bucks Light Infantry war diary has helped me to discover the dates of birth and death for some of the men mentioned in the letters, but it is less easy to find out about those who survived the war.<br /><br />Despite the limitations involved in researching on British soldiers of WWI, I have had some really great moments while putting together this small collection. Back in January my mom and I visited the <a href="http://www.library.utoronto.ca/utarms/">U of T archives</a> and were fortunate enough to talk to the archivist who had put together the Blake and Wrong family fonds. Talk about the benefits of having an archivist know his or her collections! He made some great suggestions and we saw photographs of my great-grandmother that neither I nor my mom had ever seen before.<br /><br />We also took a drive over to the house that Gerald Blake grew up in on Jarvis Street, which is currently a historic site in downtown Toronto (see right). <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqXsdFaVPHr3O1zhERSGuR1Xep8bFQ8ejXKpPbxxnGlnNelDpj2SW3sU03FMThtp7Pci0V5RXp_i056iUz83v97iVfTh21i6qNv3MZTOyF_lXsh1ebbClCbOJQqu3Bo6RwaZZVNFZ8y4/s1600/Gerald_home.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqXsdFaVPHr3O1zhERSGuR1Xep8bFQ8ejXKpPbxxnGlnNelDpj2SW3sU03FMThtp7Pci0V5RXp_i056iUz83v97iVfTh21i6qNv3MZTOyF_lXsh1ebbClCbOJQqu3Bo6RwaZZVNFZ8y4/s200/Gerald_home.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459354341467481906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9mb_EGI-F0ONdK0NurWFpuqJqV9Mb6969-z9JoRtI3zyXexet1ilb6j3kAUmbwQeZkV_peKqGzPJ5Hy2Azo9KBlzF3_a3jOIOoaci5tSi4DVdc3SRRQN9kvDI0HZF4uRm-y03iX2PzGo/s1600/Gerald_home.jpg"><br /></a>Gerald's grandfather, former premier of Ontario <a href="http://www.biographi.ca/009004-119.01-e.php?BioId=41335">Dominick Edward Blake</a>, built the house in 1891 for his son, Ned. His own residence, known as Humewood, was next door, and is also still standing.<br /><br />As we came up to the house we saw that it was being gutted and prepared for a new restaurant and bar called <a href="http://www.theblakehouse.ca/">The Blake House</a> (at least they're inspired by history!) which is set to open this Spring. We shyly sidled up to the door and explained to the builders that we had these letters and they told us to go on into the house and take a look. It was strange timing, because had we arrived even a week before or after, we might not have seen the original fireplace and wallpaper, the remnants of the staircase, and some beautiful old stained glass windows that were uncovered by the renovation. I'm going to be as corny as I like here and say that it was pretty special to be standing in his childhood home. It made him as a person more real, which is sometimes hard to envision when all I have of this individual are flat images and text.<br /><br />That visit was definitely one of the highlights of this project, but I also have been able to apply a lot of the new technical skills I've learned from this program. Before Digital History I would not have been able to use the highly effective <a href="http://www.gimp.org/">GIMP</a> program to restore some old photographs that I plan to use. I have just finished scanning photographs from an album that is nearly a hundred years old. Since the book was a bound copy rather than sheets held together by string I had to be really careful, particularly since the leather cover had come off. When I looked at the results, though, a few of the images were poor at best. I could barely see a few of them they were so faded. Below I've included a sample of one picture I've been playing around with. The picture shows Gerald and his friends at the Blake family cottage at Lac Gravelle, Quebec. Gerald is the man at the front with his legs stretched out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7cOoGWvX_66FyhdgefjdBg3TV-F9zGzyJcYI7P68vFSCwkq63bxWUtTbkcqnHutbLq8VryxIfGg7FFHjhoY-MyeOzNebrAMJ37gc2BsJZ76bjO7yJDxnf9cOpAo5vktzcaHf9KsSzVU/s1600/Group_photo.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 327px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7cOoGWvX_66FyhdgefjdBg3TV-F9zGzyJcYI7P68vFSCwkq63bxWUtTbkcqnHutbLq8VryxIfGg7FFHjhoY-MyeOzNebrAMJ37gc2BsJZ76bjO7yJDxnf9cOpAo5vktzcaHf9KsSzVU/s200/Group_photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459355284598972626" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMhCOrNYLIyr2rI8tqmCyYZ0ZCthbekQ5-UYPqtXqUHZdXkVkdw_F7r364RHS55fXBWnhvWIXkwnIMY5Aj_HkcHt0_48uQiRRZjzqWjRsLlTE9zGU23xYU9Ld6KkfEq4pcXkhuNPNEZI/s1600/LacGravelle6.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMhCOrNYLIyr2rI8tqmCyYZ0ZCthbekQ5-UYPqtXqUHZdXkVkdw_F7r364RHS55fXBWnhvWIXkwnIMY5Aj_HkcHt0_48uQiRRZjzqWjRsLlTE9zGU23xYU9Ld6KkfEq4pcXkhuNPNEZI/s200/LacGravelle6.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459355558309136482" border="0" /></a> (Before editing on Left, After on Right)</div><br />As I said, there is still much to do, but I'm really looking forward to seeing it all come together. Until next time!Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-74454607774601194452010-03-21T16:42:00.000-07:002010-03-21T17:54:50.141-07:00Timeless, epic, legendary: reading the past through fictionWe Public History students seem to be running on a similar track these days. It isn't surprising considering that most of my ideas for this blog come out of our class discussions or conversations with friends. At any rate I thought I'd echo the <a href="http://catherinecaughell.blogspot.com/">Perpetual Student</a> and write on historical fiction this week. As many of my colleagues know, I am an avid reader, a long-time devotee, and sometimes (though embarrassingly so) dabbler in this area of literature.<br /><br />Last week our Public History class discussed the role of history in film. We considered the fact that history is molded into a narrative, is told through the lens of epic characters, and is able to extract strong emotions from its viewers. Historical fiction is the same in these respects. But a film is the product of so many: it passes between writers, the director, producers, actors, cinematographers, etc. before being relayed to its audience. Fiction, on the other hand, is more direct and I think, more personal. Like academic history it is passed from writer to reader and depends on the craft of language to convey ideas, and to convince his or her audience- whether academic or layman- to believe in the narrative.<br /><br />But like film, history is formed into a story with main characters that we sympathize with, hope for, or hate as the enemies of our strong protagonists. These stories can range in their dependence on history. History might merely serve as an inspiration for fantasy (say, for example, <span style="font-style: italic;">Lord of the Rings</span>), or an author might attempt to recreate a time and place through the eyes and ears of its characters. Sometimes historical fiction serves as an excellent medium to explore the weaving of history and legend. But does the label of "fiction" allow authors to claim history and mould it into an appealing narrative? Should they be held to higher standards, considering they influence the popular consumption of history?<br /><br />Mary Stewart, an author who wrote a series on the Arthurian legends, wrote that her book should not be considered "serious" history. Her books were based on extensive research, but play with what we know to be literature. But she was writing in the 60s. I wonder if nowadays we might call her works public history. Maybe not, considering that Arthur (at least to historians) is more of a literary figure. But other authors, like Elizabeth Chadwick (see her blog <a href="http://livingthehistoryelizabethchadwick.blogspot.com/">Living the History</a>) and Philippa Gregory do practice a historical methodology and really seek to understand the history within which their characters live and breathe. In one of her books, Chadwick writes of her novels that "rather like a plait, there are three strands to the story: the facts that are verifiable history; the facts that are massaged by the 'tabloid journalist' skills of [the character's] chronicler; and my own interpretation of the two with a seasoning of personal imagination" [1]. To me, Chadwick is a public historian, or at least thinks like one. There must be imagination and creativity for it to be meaningful and engaging to the public without overshadowing the accuracy of the historical record.<br /><br />At the end of her novels Chadwick includes a list of sources she used to write the novel with recommendations for further reading, a feature that I think should be part of any work that propounds to be "historical fiction". Readers have a right to know where the author got his or her grounding in history, even if half of them don't bother to read past the final page.<br /><br />There will always be the question of what is 'real' or 'true' history. It all has an interpretation, a mediator. Perhaps historical fiction is simply taking it one step further. All historians must use their imaginations to some extent; to craft those arguments and see the links; use language to explain it in the most engaging way. The characters may be imagined but they have a base in what was real, or what we can only believe to be real from the pieces of the past we have. At the same time, I have had enough time in academia to believe that public history should still be accountable to its public. By maintaining that delicate balance we seek to achieve between academic and public worlds, historical fiction may allow us to step into the past and learn something of history based on the weaving of historical knowledge with the colour of an author's imagination.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">[1] Elizabeth Chadwick, <span style="font-style: italic;">Lords of the White Castle</span> (London: Little, Brown Book Group, 2000), 674.</span>Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-67039476371984908422010-02-16T14:37:00.000-08:002010-02-16T15:41:59.411-08:00The Potential for Collaboration: The Lost Villages ProjectI have been researching today for an essay that is coming up in my Archives class. It's on the relationship between public historians and archivists- the differences and similarities- but also where there is potential for increased interaction and collaboration. The structure of this Public History program teaches just how interrelated these disciplines are just by the fact that distinct fields of their own- Museology, Digital History, Archives, GIS- are courses we take under the heading of Public History. Witnessing that interaction in the real world, however, is really where you can see the role of public historians and their ability to act as interpreters between longstanding professions like Archives, government and academic bodies, and the public.<br /><br />Not too long ago a relative introduced me to a project out of Eastern Ontario started by the <a href="http://www.lostvillages.ca/en/index.html">Lost Villages Historical Society</a>. This nonprofit group's mission is to educate the public about the loss of a number of communities that were displaced during the creation of the St. Lawrence Seaway and Power Project in the late 1950s. There is a museum on-site in Ault Park near Long Sault, Ontario, but their website is particularly interesting. It includes a detailed description of the project but also a history of the area with pictures of the towns before they were flooded. Detailed descriptions of specific buildings, such as the Mille Roches Powerhouse, are included as well as information on current archaeological and diving projects. There is "Mystery" page for people to post photographs that they are seeking information about, and links to the CBC Archives website where you can see and hear footage from the event.<br /><br />I thought I would showcase this site because I think it really exhibits the potential for public historians, archivists, museum professionals, and the public to work together in the creation of a dynamic historical project. Drawing on a variety of resources, including archival images and footage, mapping, and community participation, the project educates the general public on a significant moment in Canadian history by focusing on a localized experience. So often we see the Seaway as a feat of engineering and progress but fail to acknowledge the broader implications. I admit that I had never heard of these 'lost villages' until a couple of months ago. Projects such as this one not only demonstrate the benefits of increased interaction amongst heritage professionals but also educate the wider public on the complexity of history; that one event may be viewed through the lenses of progress and industry, and on the other, a lost home and dramatically-altered geography. Landscapes are ever-changing, both physically and historically. Public historians can work with a variety of stakeholders to ensure that they are preserved for their history, acknowledged for their change over time, and appreciated for the complexity and dynamism that is the historical landscape.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-74733652005744288902010-01-31T10:34:00.000-08:002010-02-03T19:28:42.624-08:00Update on WWI Letters Project<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/121/297501450_2c5315e6bf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 454px; height: 126px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/121/297501450_2c5315e6bf.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I have bored my poor classmates enough this past month with details of my WWI letters project, but I think I should blog about my progress so far as it connects to a lot of themes we've talked about in recent classes. Back in November, I had written a post on my intentions to turn the collection into a blog. But following the suggestion of a fellow classmate (the infamous <a href="http://catherinecaughell.blogspot.com/">Perpetual Student</a>) I went to talk to Dr. Jonathan Vance about the project. He has kindly agreed to allow me to compile and edit the letters for our Social Memory class and hopefully- funding permitting- there will be something concrete to show for it at the end. Those are the technicalities, but my intention here is to sort through the more abstract intentions of this project.<br /><br />As of now, the letters are sitting in a box intended for photographs, and are tied in bundles with the string that my great-grandmother wrapped around them nearly a hundred years ago. Still very much the same, folded, musty-smelling letters. I've been transcribing roughly 2 a day and have encountered the frustrations of cursive writing on worn paper- a feeling familiar to most historians I imagine. This is made worse by the fact that half of them were scrawled while the writer in question was either huddled in a field tent, camped out in an attic, or even, near the end, mired in a packed and muddy trench. But the more significant issue that I have encountered is that of perspective. As I've said before, I've had exposure to these letters since I was young and they have strongly influenced my feelings on war and loss. In the last couple of months I have been confronted with the task of approaching them as a student of history rather than a reader drawn in by his words and the sadness that surrounds the story.<br /><br />I admit that it has taken me a while to realize that I am undergoing an adjustment. During the holidays a family friend asked me what I hoped to achieve from this project. After some hesitation I said that in a way I was doing it for him. He wrote in his letters of wanting to be a writer and produce something someday, and I figured that perhaps I was doing him a postmortem service in exposing the craft of his words. Well, I can admit now that my intentions have changed, and as so they should. History should be written for the present, not for the past. My romantic notions had affected the real purpose for compiling these letters.<br /><br />I like James Loewen's discussion of eastern and central African societies' terms for the deceased, which include the sasha and zamani. According to Loewen, the sasha are the "recently departed", whereas the deceased become zamani with the death of the last individual who knew him or her in life. In Loewen's words, "as generalized ancestors, the zamani are not forgotten but revered." [1]<br /><br />I think I have been seduced by this very thing. There is truth in his argument that history can be just as accurate when written in the time of the sasha. My great-grandmother wrote my mom a note when she passed on the letters, and told her that if she felt that they were a burden an Archive might be interested in them. She knew their value to history; I think that's why she kept them afterwards, even though she never visited Gerald's grave back in France.<br /><br />I, however, never knew the protagonists of this story. My mom was pregnant when Kathleen died so these figures have more of a distance to me, and perhaps are in danger of being romanticized into characters rather than real people with their warts and all. In our Public History class last week we discussed the commemoration of WWI veterans in churches across Canada but in her letter to my mother Kathleen wrote, "so many thousands of young men were lost- for what?" Taking into account this was composed in the 1970s, and her feelings might have shifted over time, I still think it speaks true of Loewen's point that history written in the time of its happening can be just as accurate.<br /><br />So as I transcribe and compile these letters I hope to take counsel from these historians and attempt to present history so that it may be used and appreciated for the living, and not simply as a commemoration of the dead.<br /><br />That being said, I am still human, and remain touched. Though there are certainly issues concerning 'dark tourism', there is an important function to be served by commemoration. In this case, it is an act of remembrance, not only in the general sense that such an event should not be forgotten, but also an awareness that moments in time- relationships, feelings, words and thoughts- moments that seemed to have lost their future, still have their place in the web of history and glimmer just as bright.<br /><br />I do hope one day that my mom and I will make the 'pilgrimage' to Gerald's grave at Pozieres cemetery. And we'll lay the flower of sweet peas on his grave, which were his favourite.<br /><br /><br />[1] James W. Loewen, <span style="font-style: italic;">Lies Across America: what our historic sites get wrong </span>(New York: New Press: Distributed by W.W. Norton, 1999), 37.<br />Photograph: Pozieres Cemetery, France. Taken by Calypso Orchid, Flickr.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-49936181897121694672010-01-15T06:57:00.000-08:002010-01-15T08:15:22.370-08:00The Archive of SoundOver the break I had an interesting conversation with a family friend about history and sound. It was very short, as we were standing in the crowded kitchen at a New Years party and between the sounds of the oven and the kids passing with coats and hors d'oeuvres there was hardly time for an in-depth discussion. But I did manage to catch his remark about the past's relationship to sound. "They went to a concert and listened to a song...and that was it." He said with a comical raise of his eyebrows.<br /><br />Maybe if you went to see the concert more than once, or a few years later, or were able to play it yourself on a piano or single instrument...but I agree that history's relationship to sound differs much from our own. There are everyday sounds we are used to, like the constant hum of the refrigerator. They tend to blend into the background. I think there are timeless sounds, like a baby crying or waves crashing up against a shoreline. We can imagine that those have changed little throughout history, but would our ability to hear them change the way that history is studied?<br /><br />As we talked about in class yesterday, there has always been and will continue to be missing evidence, and sound is one of those sensory experiences that has been lost in history. We can listen to a Bach cantata but it isn't necessarily the same; like any ancient text it has been copied and recopied and edited and transposed for modern instruments and ears. There always has to be a creative element to the practice of history, in that the imagination must fill in some of the gaps. Especially in Public History, where sound becomes a crucial part of the public's understanding of history through television, movies, museums and even historical fiction. Just because it is in a text doesn't mean the author cannot and should not attempt to evoke the sounds of the past.<br /><br />Because our discussion involved sound (specifically the <a href="http://murmurtoronto.ca/">Murmur</a> project in Toronto) I mentioned an interview that I heard on CBC's radio program <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/spark/">Spark</a> a few months ago about a BBC project called <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/specialreports/saveoursounds.shtml">Save Our Sounds</a>. It is an online project that allows anyone in the world to upload a recorded sound on to an interactive map. When I visited the site I was surprised that there were so few recordings, though some of the selections were really interesting, such as the sound of dial-up internet. Kate Arkless Gray, the leader of the project, remarked that "acoustic ecology is all about preserving these sounds for future generations". This collection will eventually be given over to the British Library to do just that.<br /><br />So people in the future will be able to listen to the sound of horse's hooves in Kyrgyzstan, or a tug of war competition at the 146th Antigonish Highland Games in Nova Scotia. I think that the most valuable sounds on here will be those that are already beginning to disappear, such as the dial-up recording. Hopefully, horses will not go extinct any time soon. Now that it's easier than ever to record sounds, anywhere and anytime, we are creating a huge digital archive of soundscapes. Will it change the study of history? It might. But perhaps more importantly it will affect our relationship to history in adding another sensory exposure to the past. We could recreate it, as we do with drawings or images in photoshop, but I think that when you know it is the real thing your connection with the past becomes more intimate.<br /><br />It comes back to the question of what to preserve and what to keep, but I believe that there is value in capturing sounds of activity that may be lost in official records, and will be valued by future generations. The world of pre-twentieth century? Well, I think it's just another case of the missing record, and our own acknowledgment that some history will always remain mysterious; like a song itself, it is never played the same twice as we translate from author to interpreter to listener.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-15878420417422965912009-12-08T15:02:00.000-08:002009-12-09T07:39:58.095-08:00A Reflection on Digital HistoryAs our <a href="http://digitalhistory.wikispot.org/UWO_History_9808A_Digital_History_Fall_2009">Digital History</a> class comes to a close we have been asked to reflect on the course as a whole. I have to admit, had someone told me in August that I would come to see the benefits of Twitter, understand basic HTML code, write in a blog every couple of weeks and talk about tagging and data mining like I knew what I was saying, I would have raised an eyebrow or two. I guess that's why I would say the greatest thing I have learned from this course is to finally come to understand the potential of the web. It's easy to dismiss it; I think why I did, and why most people sneer at these social networking tools and web 2.0 gadgets is because they lack an understanding of what it can do.<br /><br />Take Twitter, for example. While I am still adjusting to my own presence online, I have discovered its benefits. I actually use Twitter more than I use Facebook, though I have to admit I never really warmed to Facebook. Throughout our class discussions we debated the use of different applications like <a href="http://twitter.com/">Twitter</a> or <a href="http://earth.google.com/">Google Earth</a> or <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/">Amazon</a> and how they may be manipulated to generate personalized queries. While we considered its applications for history, I began to think about how it could be applied to business as well. When I visited home during October I started talking to my Dad about how he could use Twitter in his small business that manufactures promotional products. I got a less than responsive reply (admittedly, our family still had a rotary phone system until two years ago), but I think it is where business, and the humanities, and pretty much anyone that can make use of vast amounts of data is going. For me, this course helped me to understand how that data may be first extracted and then manipulated rather than being lost in a sea of endless information and ignorance.<br /><br />I think there is a lot of fear surrounding the internet. Not as in fear-for-my life type scenarios but the fear that something posted will be used in negative ways, or manipulated to bring down a career or steal one's hard work. Again I count myself among the many who felt this way before Digital History. But really what I've learned is that the internet facilitates complex connections and interactions between people, information, and machines. Take for example our recent assignment which was to do some text mining with the <a href="http://portal.tapor.ca/portal/portal">TAPoR</a> project. I decided to go back to my second year English class and do some analysis on Christina Rossetti's <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16950/16950-8.txt">Goblin Market</a><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16950/16950-8.txt"> and other poems</a>. </span>I first typed in the word 'dark,' thinking that for such a chilling poem the word would appear quite a bit. When I compared these results to the number of hits for 'light,' however, I was surprised that the latter appeared twice as much as the former. Clearly this sort of tool is useful for poetry analysis as well as history. In less than a minute I learned something new that would have taken me hours of tedious work.<br /><br />Aside from these more theoretical discoveries, I have also been exposed to the many practical applications of the internet. I made my own <a href="http://sites.google.com/site/shelaghstaunton/">website</a>, manipulated <a href="http://sites.google.com/site/shelaghstaunton/home/digital-imaging-assignment">digital images</a> through a program called the <a href="http://www.gimp.org/">GNU Image Manipulation Program</a> (GIMP) and learned how basic databases work and major search engines like Google.<br /><br />I won't deny that I have had moments of frustration where I wanted to throw my computer across the room, but I think that's part of any learning process (the frustration, hopefully not the throwing). At times we were thrown an assignment with little instruction on how to do it, but as Prof. Turkel says, that's often the best way to learn. Because when I did finally manage to change the resolution of a photograph after many frustrating attempts, it felt utterly fantastic.<br /><br />As I said before, more than anything this course has changed the way that I think. About the internet, about information, and even history. I suppose this was just the beginning; who knows what I'll be doing and thinking in another four months?Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-10329969392902193452009-11-18T18:54:00.000-08:002009-11-22T19:41:35.123-08:00The liveliest 95-year old catalogue<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ia310120.us.archive.org/GnuBook/GnuBookImages.php?zip=/2/items/eatons19131400eatouoft/eatons19131400eatouoft_jp2.zip&file=eatons19131400eatouoft_jp2/eatons19131400eatouoft_0287.jp2&scale=8&rotate=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 322px;" src="http://ia310120.us.archive.org/GnuBook/GnuBookImages.php?zip=/2/items/eatons19131400eatouoft/eatons19131400eatouoft_jp2.zip&file=eatons19131400eatouoft_jp2/eatons19131400eatouoft_0287.jp2&scale=8&rotate=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our Digital History class has recently been given a fun assignment involving the <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/eatons19131400eatouoft">1913-1914 Eaton's Catalogue</a>. We were told to choose 5-6 books and see if we could find copies of it online. Around Christmastime I am used to walking through the Eaton's store rather than flipping through its literature for gift ideas (or in this case, clicking through), and I have to say I enjoy the absence of earworm-inducing Christmas music. It's also fun to see what people were buying in the early twentieth century. As we talked about in class, it's interesting to see how many books on Christianity there are, but perhaps not so surprising when we consider that it was published nearly a hundred years ago.<br /><br />I was able to find the majority of titles I chose on <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/wiki/Main_Page">Project Gutenberg</a>, but several escaped my grasp. <a href="http://books.google.ca/bkshp?hl=en&tab=wp">Google Books</a> has nearly every title but it is hit or miss in finding a complete digitized copy free for viewing. I could not find <span style="font-style: italic;">Husband, Wife and Home</span> which I thought was surprising considering people generally love that kind of stuff for the shocking and/or comical value. In my Gender and European History class last year my prof once mentioned that Isabella Beeton's <span style="font-style: italic;">Guide to Household Management</span> is still being published even though it was originally written in the 19th century for Victorian housewives.<br /><br />I was successful, however, in finding <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=105042&pageno=1">The White House Cook Book</a> on Project Gutenberg. Old cookbooks are quite fun to look through. Even the titles can be hilarious- my sister and I were laughing recently at one of my mom's that was called something like <span style="font-style: italic;">Healthy Eating with Carbs </span>or <span style="font-style: italic;">The High Carbohydrate Diet</span>- I can't remember what exactly the title was but it was something you'd never see today (and yes, I tried Googling it but couldn't find it!) This one in particular was written in 1887 and has lots of traditional recipes that differ little from modern day cooking. At the back they even provide menu suggestions specific to the month and day of the week. So, for example, you might follow their luncheon menu for a Monday in November: Cold roast duck, welsh rarebit, fried sweet potatoes, cold pickled beets, french bread, cookies, gooseberry jam, and cocoa.<br /><br />Not too tricky, right? At least it's more appetizing than the Tuesday option of "scalloped mutton," whatever that means. At any rate that's your cooking manual online for this holiday season. My next goal was to find another DIY book but for the home rather than the stomach. I searched the various online repositories for <a href="http://www.archive.org/stream/mortarsplasters00hodggoog">Cements, Mortars, Plasters, Stuccos, Concretes, etc.</a> by Fred T. Hodgson and, as you can see, discovered it on the <a href="http://www.archive.org/index.php">Internet Archive</a>. It's actually quite interesting looking at the pages on cement and tiling, etc. because at first glance it doesn't seem all that different from present-day work. That being said, I'm sure much has changed in the way of home building materials since 1916.<br /><br />With all my research on housekeeping I decided to take a break and relax with some fiction. I was intrigued by the title <span style="font-style: italic;"></span><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=986646">Pathfinder</a> by James Fenimore Cooper. I found it once again on Project Gutenberg. At first it just seemed like a typical adventure story set in the early history of North America, but after reading the Preface it was clear that there is a strong bias to the book. Writing of how recently the region of Ontario had been settled by Europeans, Cooper states that "a just appreciation can be formed of the wonderful means by which Providence is clearing the way for the advancement of civilization across the whole American continent."<br /><br />So maybe you should cross <span style="font-style: italic;">Pathfinder </span>of your Christmas list. Searching for something more innocent, I took a browse through the titles under the children's section. The book <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/12269">Wee Macgregor Enlists</a> by J.J. Bell sounded pretty fun (it reminded me of one of my favourite children's books <span style="font-style: italic;">Wee Gillis</span>). I had some trouble finding this title at first. It came up on Google Books (again as a Snippet view) but when I opened up the link I discovered that the original spelling was "MacGreegor" rather than "Macgregor" as on the cover in the Eaton's Catalogue. I'm not sure why they changed the spelling but sure enough a search on Project Gutenberg with the added "e" provided results.<br /><br />Another interesting feature of the Eaton's Catalogue was the division between girls' and boys' books. For girls, there was a section on "Elsie Books." Not having heard of them before I did a search and found that they were written by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martha_Finley">Martha Finley</a> (1828-1909) and were based around a girl named <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/6440">Elsie Dinsmore</a>. The titles of the series demonstrates the Victorian ideal of womanhood as revolving around the family: other titles include <span style="font-style: italic;">Elsie's Girlhood, Elsie's Womanhood, Elsie's Motherhood </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Elsie's Widowhood. </span><br /><br />"Henty Books," on the other hand, were the option for boys and seem to include a much more exciting array of titles. Written by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._A._Henty">G.A. Henty</a> (1832-1902), the series included <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/7060">At Agincourt</a> and <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=221919">With Wolfe in Canada</a>. Not surprisingly, he displays a clear bias towards the English and against the French in these works but if you get past that in our present day they look like they could be quite fun reads. I am biased myself towards history, of course.<br /><br />I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that all these books could be found online, and yet still I remained awed by the powers of the internet. Just the fact that I could look at the Eaton's catalogue online enthralled me. I also liked how Project Gutenberg gave you the option of reading the document online or downloading it. I would say that the one downside with this site was the fact that the page numbers did not match up with the original document. Certainly this flaw would be corrected with the downloaded version but if they give you the option of searching by page number on the online document it should provide accurate results.<br /><br />I had a lot of fun with this project, and it's certainly given me some ideas for gifts. Not to mention recipes; I'm already craving tomorrow's breakfast of musk melon and calf's liver.<br /><br />Image Source: <a href="http://www.archive.org/stream/eatons19131400eatouoft#page/n285/mode/2up">Internet Archive</a>.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-12218858620464038922009-11-11T06:06:00.000-08:002009-11-11T14:56:45.877-08:00Now Far From Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freefoto.com/images/15/43/15_43_51---Poppy_web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 329px;" src="http://www.freefoto.com/images/15/43/15_43_51---Poppy_web.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />As historians, we are taught to be objective in our understanding and representation of the past. But today I can't be objective, because on Remembrance Day I always end up thinking about the various members of my family who served in the two world wars. I am sure that I am not alone in this feeling. And perhaps we're not meant to be objective today, or on any day that has particular significance for one's own sense of self. The reason I chose to pursue a degree in Public History has a lot to do with a box of letters written during World War One to my great-grandmother from her then-fiancee Gerald Blake. They are a piece of the past that, gradually, have become a piece of me. I can't separate my understanding of these two people from the words on the page, and the sad juxtaposition of love, battle tactics and war-weariness.<br /><br />My mom and I have talked about doing something with these letters for a long time. As a history student I, of course, was a proponent for somehow making them available to the public. The letters are no doubt intensely personal and romantic but they are also (and here is a bit of a historian's objectivity coming into play) an amazing resource for students and scholars of World War One history. Our only question was how to put it together; what it should look like. And what would they, the protagonists of these letters, have wanted?<br /><br />An idea has finally taken shape as I have spent these last nine weeks immersed in the Public History program at UWO, and I've decided to begin the project this June, 2010. I'm going to put the transcribed letters up in a blog format exactly 95 years to the day that Gerald wrote these letters. There are hundreds of them and it will take over a year to complete, but after all our discussions on open access content I'm pretty convinced that this is not only the best way to get this story out there, but also what Kathleen and Gerald would have approved of. Interestingly enough, I will also be the same age (22) as Kathleen when she received these letters. The tentative title of the project is "Now Far From Home" (more on that later).<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago I performed a simple Google search to see if anything like this was out there already, and sure enough I was not disappointed. An English man did the exact same thing with his grandfather's letters a few years ago: check out <a href="http://wwar1.blogspot.com/">WWI: Experiences of an English Soldier</a>. If possible, I think it would be great to digitize the letters themselves and put them up alongside the transcribed blog posts. I would also include photographs and background information on the people and events described.<br /><br />I'd love feedback from classmates and anyone who is interested. I think my mother and I know that these amazing pieces of history should be shared. Of course, I am biased in this respect. But like I said, I'm not being objective today.<br /><br />Though the project would not officially begin until June, I thought that I would include the very first letter. It is written the day after Gerald leaves for France. He and Kathleen were engaged the previous night.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> New York<br /> June 19, 1915<br /><br />Dear Kathleen,<br /><br />I'm a pretty sad little devil today and philosophy doesn't help much. I hope you're all right my dear. I felt wretched leaving you looking so wretched and so we're pretty wretched all round. But some day if I hadn't gone we all would have been ashamed. I would have been a grouch for the rest of my days- and now perhaps I will be only half the time!<br /><br />I am alternately proud and humble. I'm so proud of your really loving me that my head's nearly turned right around back to front- and I feel so weak and unworthy that it makes me very serious.<br /><br />I'm afraid I'm a very poor sort of a lover my dear. I can't express all the beautiful things that are inside. I'm just struck dumb. I haven't an idea what I said to you- only I felt most immensely and I expect you know what I wanted to say.<br /><br />I feel like a little lost child at one moment and the next like a King. You know I feel that I'll come through all right now that I managed to tell you before going. You know I'm a shy little coward and it took an awful effort.<br /><br />Do take care of yourself, my dear, and don't get glum. Heaps of love to you,<br /><br />Gerald<br /><br />PS: By the way, I didn't tell anybody anything- tho' I felt like shouting to everybody in the street the fact that you loved me. You tell anybody anything you like- or everybody everything you like. I'm your humble servant. Excuse my incoherence- I'm in a chaos.<br /><br /><br /></span>Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-43900521498280418252009-11-07T08:45:00.000-08:002009-11-09T19:51:48.069-08:00A Bounty of Information on the Mutiny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gordonmiller.ca/images/BOUNTY-at-Tahiti-1788.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 323px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 204px" alt="" src="http://www.gordonmiller.ca/images/BOUNTY-at-Tahiti-1788.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />For our Digital History class we have been asked to write a blog entry on how to research a historical topic on the web. I deliberated over what to write on, but eventually I settled on the story of the mutiny on the HMS Bounty that took place in the late 18th century. Often lauded as the "most famous<br />mutiny in history," the tale of adventure on the high seas, exoticism, romance and treachery has certainly captured my imagination ever since I was a kid. After reading <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Mutiny on the Bounty </span>by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall I was, like so many others, captivated by the story.<br /><br />For those who do not know the history of the HMS Bounty and its voyage, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Bounty">Wikipedia</a> is of course an option but a far better site is the site <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.fatefulvoyage.com">Fateful Voyage</a>. This page is a fantastic resource as it includes an extensive history, biographies of the crew members, transcripts of the Bounty's logbook and other primary source documents relating to the voyage. As well, the author makes great use of tools like Google Earth to create maps that show the routes of both the HMS Bounty before and after the mutiny, as well as the voyage of Bligh and his faithful crewmembers in the ship's launch. There is also a rich timeline that is colour-coded and broken down by month and year detailing the major events of the story. For anyone wishing to start a similar site, the author includes the resources that he or she found helpful in constructing the more complex elements like the maps and charts. Other useful pages for an introduction to the topic include the site of the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.tallshipbounty.org">HMS Bounty</a>, the reconstruction of the ship built for the 1962 movie starring Marlon Brando. It gives an introduction and information on the ship (you can also book a berth for its next voyage if you so desire). Finally, Paul J. Lareau's <a href="http://www.lareau.org/bounty.html">site </a>includes a basic overview as well as links to other pages, photographs and articles that answer the question, "who was at fault?" You can even check to see if there is a 'Bounty organization' in your country, region or city.<br /><br />For those looking to view primary sources there are a number of sites that provide digitized versions. The State Library of New South Wales website is one example. Specific pages include the <a href="http://www2.sl.nsw.gov.au/banks/sections/section_08.cfm">papers of Sir Joseph Banks</a> and a section of the <a href="http://www2.sl.nsw.gov.au/banks/sections/section_08.cfm">ship's logbook from Tahiti to Jamaica. </a>You can also see the <a href="http://acms.sl.nsw.gov.au/album/albumView.aspx?acmsID=855886&itemID=862970">account</a> that Bligh himself wrote about the voyage in the Bounty's launch from modern Tonga to Kupang on East Timor. The British National Archives are another good resource for primary sources. Visitors to the site can view a couple of pages from the Bounty's <a href="http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/museum/item.asp?item_id=29&sequence=1">logbook</a>.<br /><br />While Bligh and his faithful crew began their seemingly impossible sail to Timor, Fletcher Christian and the mutineers headed in the opposite direction. They eventually settled on the small island called Pitcairn east of Tahiti where they would live out the rest of their lives and create a settlement whose descendants still live there today. The National Maritime Museum in Britain website includes a digitized copy of the <a href="http://www.nmm.ac.uk/explore/collections/by-type/archive-and-library/item-of-the-month/previous/pitcairn-island-register">register</a> of the mutineers who settled on the island. This document was written by a whaler who visited the island in 1823 and recorded the story told to him by the one surviving member of the crew and the descendants of his peers. The website for the <a href="http://library.puc.edu/pitcairn/index.shtml">Pitcairn Islands Study Centre</a> is also a useful resource for those who wish to know more about the island's history. It also includes a cruise ship schedule for those with a mind to visiting the site itself. You can also take a look at the <a href="http://www.government.pn/">Pitcairn Island website</a> for historical information as well as photographs and information on what the people of the island are up to today.<br /><br />Now, I wouldn't be a Public Historian-in-training if I didn't mention the ways in which the Bounty story is alive today (aside from the proliferation of interest on the internet). Check out an article on the <a href="http://www.archaeology.org/9905/etc/bounty.html">Pitcairn Project</a>, the archeological expedition in 1999 that uncovered the wreck of the Bounty, or take a look at the <a href="http://www.bountyboat.com/news.php">Bounty Boat Expedition</a>, a reenactment of Bligh's open-boat voyage by an Australian crew of four set to launch in 2010.<br /><br />And finally, for those movie buffs out there, take a look at the YouTube trailers for movies on the Bounty story. The first, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtmV2tpbnjA">Mutiny on the Bounty</a>, </span>was filmed in 1935 and is based on Nordhoff and Hall's book. The 1962 <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEmZ_A0UTrA">remake</a> stars Marlon Brando as Fletcher Christian. It's interesting to notice the differences between these epic, swashbuckling accounts and the more angst-ridden trailer for <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5QER2wu0lg&feature=related">The Bounty</a> </span>starring Mel Gibson and Anthony Hopkins in 1984. As we discussed in our Public History class recently, our interpretation of historical events changes over time, and these two trailers are an example of how we as interpreters of that history become part of the overall narrative of that event. It's interesting to think about how we would interpret the story of the Bounty in the 21st century. Perhaps there would be more of a focus on the Tahitian people as more than just an exotic playground for the European explorers?<br /><br />The links I've provided here are really just an introduction, but show how much this story is still alive today, and changing once again with the possibilities of the web.<br /><br />Painting: Gordon Miller, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Bounty's Arrival at Tahiti, 1788. </span>Source: <a href="http://www.gordonmiller.ca/02_Age_of_Discovery.htm">Sailing into History <span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"></span></a>Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-21624779774878976212009-10-19T14:58:00.000-07:002009-11-07T13:53:11.028-08:00Landscapes: the real, the imagined, the digitalMy high school Drama teacher once asked our class to describe our favourite place in the world. The technicalities of where it was or how you got there were to be avoided; she wanted us to give a feeling of the place itself. It wasn't easy. In describing my favourite place, a region called Go Home Bay in Southeastern Georgian Bay, I struggled to find words that would help others to understand why I loved it so much. I talked about how, to quote my mother, the place was "the Atlantic one day and the Greek islands the next". About the rocks, sloping and jagged pink and black formed by lava and glaciers.<br /><br />But connecting with a landscape involves more than just visuals. Yes I love the rocks that retain the heat of the sun long after it has set, but would I love them as much had I not lain against them at night with my sisters and cousins? In my Drama class most of the students mentioned family as being a crucial feature of their favourite places. Landscapes are shaped by people and memories, even those that aren't our own. My family cottage has stood in the same location since the 1930s and while I've only lived through the last twenty-odd years of its history I've inherited memories that shape how I view the place. They kind of have a mythic quality, like the romance of the cold room, delicate china plates and curling nautical maps.<br /><br />David Glassberg writes of the interaction between nature and culture in his article "Interpreting Landscapes" and how past generations affect the meaning of place (23). "Landscapes are not simply an arrangement of natural features, they are a language through which humans communicate with one another" (29). Communication, I think, is key in our understanding of landscapes, and in particular, how we claim ownership over them.<br /><br />During my undergrad degree I took a course on the development of the Atlantic World and wrote a paper on British perceptions of the New World and how they claimed sovereignty over North American territory. Through mythic propaganda, including claims that King Arthur had already discovered it before (yeah, that surprised me too) and through careful use of maps and renaming places after British locations, ownership, in the European mindset, was established over the land.<br /><br />In this example we can see both the cultural and natural elements that Glassberg speaks of. By painting flags and drawing maps that included ships and other symbols of British authority the imperial forces "staked their claim." But that, of course, was the European way of looking at land and it's clear that the Native Peoples of Canada had and continue to have a very different perspective of landscape and ownership. How can you own something that is used and shared by so many people? Land that changes from season to season in terms of its resources and climate? A place that is the "Atlantic" one season and the "Greek Islands" the next?<br /><br />I'm not sure if you can. Though I call that little section of territory on Georgian Bay "mine" I know that before my great-grandfather bought the property there was another owner before him who purchased the land from the local Native population, a people whose history is largely unknown but is certainly as fluid and diverse as what followed it. Elizabeth Renzetti commented in her blog <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/london-eye/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The London Eye</span></a> that the city of London is a palimpsest, and I think that description is true of all landscapes. Public Historians can help to bridge the often controversial line between physical ownership and cultural ownership. Though the government or an individual may own the physical property we can still flesh out the meaning that lies within that land; that has existed there for centuries and that continues to shape the way that land is appreciated and used. As Glassberg says we are not only protecting the physical heritage but the less tangible rights to it; the right of association and memory that shapes the interaction between humans and our environment. To "help [people] to ordinarily see what cannot be seen" (33).<br /><br />Is the internet a landscape? We have giants like Google and Amazon that own more "property" than others, but there is still a lot of traffic on the sites and individuals use their resources to profoundly shape their own experiences. We describe the internet as a physical place: pages and documents, sites and visitors. What is owned and what is free use is becoming increasingly difficult to determine as the internet challenges traditional copyright laws. Why do we need ownership? Does it give us a sense of security, just as ownership of land gives us security? The landscape of the internet is fluid and public and yet companies are setting restrictions on materials that others argue should be open to all.<br /><br />On her blog <a href="http://www.thewildsurmise.com/">The Wild Surmise </a>Sue Thomas asks, "<span lang="EN-GB">If the internet were a landscape, what kind of landscape would it be?" The responses include a jungle, the underwater world, the universe. One visitor, Martine, writes, "</span><span id="comment-6a00d83456d0f369e200e008d8e1348834-content">Boxes upon boxes, behind boxes, boxes within boxes. Boxes connected by silvery spider webs(unsticky)." Naturally, I had to quote that last comment.<br /><br />Another visitor, </span><span id="comment-header-6a00d83456d0f369e200e54f9ce3758834-left"><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://paulbhartzog.org" href="http://paulbhartzog.org/">Paul B. Hartzog</a></span><span id="comment-6a00d83456d0f369e200e008d8e1348834-content">, says that </span><span id="comment-6a00d83456d0f369e200e54f9ce3758834-content">"the landscape of the internet IS the landscape of the world. We return to being connected, to being landscape-literate. But this time around, instead of one landscape, we exist in many landscapes simultaneously</span>". Perhaps we have always lived in many landscapes simultaneously, but the internet helps us to see the multiple levels of experience more clearly. Public Historians can help to chart the way through this new era of exploration and discovery so that we may protect the meaning and integrity of historical sources online. Everyone is an author and a creator within the landscape of the web. Here there is possibility for a truly public forum connecting past and present without the restrictions of ownership that have become a necessity on the face of our physical world.<br /><span id="comment-6a00d83456d0f369e200e008d8e1348834-content"><br />Sources: Glassberg, David. "Interpreting Landscapes." <span style="font-style: italic;">Public History and the Environment. </span>Martin V. Melosi and Philip V. Scarpino. Florida: Krieger, 2004, 23-36.</span>Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-23277200972087658752009-10-09T07:59:00.000-07:002009-10-09T09:06:33.571-07:00The Adjustment to the Culture of Abundance<span style="font-size:100%;">As you may have noted from one of my earlier posts, I recently finished reading A.S. </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size:100%;">Byatt's</span> novel <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Possession. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">The book is set in Britain during the 1980s and centers on the escapades of Victorian Literature academics Maud Bailey and Roland Mitchell. As I was reading lengthy descriptions of their card catalogues and restricted-access reading rooms I kept thinking, wow, this is dated. For one thing how many historians do you know who carry around index cards as a method of subject searching? When Google is a click away it seems like so much time and paper and sheer effort wasted (the possibility for paper cuts is endless).<br /><br />Over the last couple of weeks our Digital History classes have focused on the idea of abundance in the digital age and what this means to the future of History. I think of poor Maud and Roland slaving away with their pens and pocketbooks and wonder how different that story would be if situated in the present day. Perhaps the London Library where Roland found the mystery letters would have digitized the documents already and discovered them first. Failing that, a security camera could have picked up on his theft before he even left the building. And even if he did succeed in getting the letters off the premises, he would hardly have to make the slog to Yorkshire or the Breton coast to make his discoveries. A simple image search on Google would have revealed the famed fountain he finds in the North.<br /><br />Has the romance completely gone from History? Can we imagine the possibility of undiscovered knowledge in this age of abundance? It is certainly true that the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size:100%;">internet</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> is changing the practice of the discipline; not only is the tweed jacket a little outdated but how we understand our subjects must be re-evaluated. For one, I think that ownership is going to be a major issue. Traditionally, a historian writes a book and gets a copyright. But as Daniel Cohen and Roy Rosenzweig demonstrate in their chapter <a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/digitalhistory/copyright/">"Owning the Past"</a> in </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/digitalhistory/">Digital History</a>, </span><span style="font-size:100%;">such laws become more complicated when faced with a world of hyperlinks, digital media and rapid rates of change. In order to safeguard intellectual property many journals are hidden behind what Rosenzweig describes as the "private web" and demand access fees from their readers. Such a system, they argue, has created a division between public and private that is reflected in the quality of the two. At the same time, however, he does not </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-size:100%;">see</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> the public web as a garbage heap with no use to historians. Individuals are digitizing massive amounts of documents without any personal gain other than to serve their own classrooms or interests. Genealogy has boomed on the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-size:100%;">internet</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> (I myself witnessed this phenomenon when working at the <a href="http://www.ogs.on.ca/">Ontario Genealogical Society</a> this past summer). But is it that simple for professionals? </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-size:100%;">Wikipedia</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> is filled with information but it lacks the depth of a historian's background and prose</span><span style="font-size:100%;">[1]</span><span style="font-size:100%;">. Should professionals make their work available to the public? Rosenzweig certainly thinks so: "perhaps we should even insist that the intellectual property we create (often with considerable public funding) should be freely available to all"<span style="font-size:100%;">[2].<br /><br />The open source movement certainly has potential but it requires a shift in mindset. What is "ownership" if anyone can go online and access your work for free? Intellectual property takes on a new meaning when posted freely on the web. Doesn't it fly in the face of the concept that we need a middleman to negotiate the returns from our writing? In his article <a href="http://www.paulgraham.com/publishing.html">"Post-Medium Publishing,"</a> Paul Graham writes, "now that the medium is evaporating, publishers have nothing left to sell. Some seem to think they're going to sell content- that they were always in the content business, really. But they weren't, and it's unclear whether anyone could be." If the decision to make public our intellectual property rests in the hands of historians themselves, where then is the money made? Someone has to be paid and historians need to publish in order to get jobs in the present system. There is also the problem of authority, as anyone can put up a website and claim to be an expert. Scholarly journals still need to make money and Rosenzweig suggests a number of <a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/essays-on-history-new-media/essays/?essayid=2">solutions</a> to combat the problem including charging the authors and delayed access to journals.<br /><br />While there are issues with all of them the self-archiving option does have potential. The grassroots approach is what historians need to take an active role in fostering. By making their work available to the public, they not only broaden their readership but become agents of change in the world of online education. Instead of allowing large corporations to dominate the field it is possible to reclaim ownership of material that really belongs to everyone- the public for funding it and the historian for broadening the world's knowledge of history (and, therefore, themselves).<br /><br />Historians can also help to prevent the decay of online materials. As we talked about in a previous class, the roles of historian and archivist were once one and the same. In the digital age we should see the benefits of this model. Projects like the <a href="http://www.archive.org/about/about.php">Internet Archive</a> are attempting to save and catalogue all the material to be found on the web before it disappears but their task is ambitious. Ivor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Tossell</span> recently reported on the loss of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Geocities</span> in his article <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/technology/on-the-web-forever-brhas-a-due-date/article1310077/">"On the Web, Forever has a Due Date"</a></span> and mentions that the Internet Archive is trying to salvage <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Geocities</span> material before the sites are permanently erased from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">internet</span>. "Companies can promise a great many thing, and I'm willing to believe most of them," he writes. "But they can't promise to be there forever."<br /><br />It is the not-for-profits and committed individuals who will need to pick up the information that companies leave behind as refuse. The practice of History has already changed; our research has been profoundly altered by the availability of primary and secondary source material online. But historians must see that they provide a public service, and in doing that, they must not only take from the web but give to it as well. In practicing and advocating for open access historians can make that connection between past and present all the more meaningful. And in seeing the benefits of the web we may be more aware of the need to preserve the online materials that the corporations like Yahoo! are failing to protect.<br /><br />While the days of card catalogues are gone, the excitement and mystery of the chase has by no means evaporated. For instead of navigating gloomy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">stacks</span> and hunting down that rare manuscript we are truly weaving a web: making connections to the public and to other scholars, to the primary sources we are working each day to save, to the past that we are seeking to interpret. How we think about ourselves is going to change, as it has changed throughout history with each wave of technical development. Nicholas Carr explains how we use new metaphors to talk about ourselves with the invention of technologies like the clock<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">[3]. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">It is that shift in thinking that is slowly taking place.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">At one point in </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Possession, </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Roland says to Maud, "Do you never have the sense that our metaphors </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >eat up </span><span style="font-size:130%;">our world? I mean of course everything connects and connects- all the time- and I suppose one studies- I study- literature because all these connections seem both endlessly exciting and then in some sense dangerously powerful- as though we held a clue to the true nature of things?"</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">[4]<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:180%;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">internet</span> may seem like the answer to everything but it is only really the beginning of an endless search. We should not fear the loss of authority, for no one historian can have all the answers in light of so much discovery from age to age. The medium will change and so will the metaphors we use to make sense of our place in the world; the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">internet</span> will be a key player in this shift. But rather than letting it "eat us up" it is possible for historians to take hold of it and use it as sustenance for a long future of endless archives and limitless opportunities.<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;">[1] Roy Rosenzweig, <a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/essays-on-history-new-media/essays/?essayid=42">"Can History be Open Source? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Wikipedia</span> and the Future of the Past,"</a></span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Journal of American History </span><span style="font-size:85%;">93, no. 1 (Jun 2006): 117-146.<br />[2] Roy Rosenzweig, <a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/essays-on-history-new-media/essays/?essayid=9">"The Road to Xanadu: Public and Private Pathways on the History Web,"</a></span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Journal of American History</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> 88, no. 2 (Sep 2001): 548-579.<br />[3] Nicholas Carr, <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/google">"Is Google Making Us Stupid? What the Internet is Doing to our Brains,"</a> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >The Atlantic </span><span style="font-size:85%;">(July/Aug 2008).<br />[4] A.S. </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" style="font-size:85%;">Byatt</span><span style="font-size:85%;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Possession </span><span style="font-size:85%;">(London: Vintage Books, 1990), 253.</span><br /></span>Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-77666435974082470462009-09-28T05:56:00.000-07:002009-10-05T07:56:06.378-07:00Another pointFunny how once you get onto a theme you start to see it everywhere. This morning I came across an article on the Globe and Mail website entitled, "A house becomes a museum of missed hopes" by Ian Brown. While this is just an excerpt of his book, in it Brown describes the challenges of being a parent of a child with a rare genetic disorder. He writes about keeping every object that he and his wife were given for their son, including toys, clothes and therapy tools. I thought his description of why they saved everything was very telling: he calls the collection "the archaeological history of our futile belief that this or that plaything would pull him out of his closed-off world, into our own more public space."<br /><br />We collect and save for very different reasons, some more frivolous than others. But I think Brown's article is another example of how we use objects to sustain hope for what's ahead; they aren't just relics but items that potentially make it easier to cope with the daunting and uncertain future.<br /><br />See Brown's article <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/books/a-house-becomes-a-museum-of-missed-hopes/article1301554/">here</a>.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-2640610820893220702009-09-27T16:36:00.000-07:002009-09-27T16:54:37.584-07:00Collecting as a Means of SurvivalI've recently been mulling over the issue of collections and collecting in our society. In part this is brought on by class discussions, including the role collections play within the material realm of the museum as well as that of the digital archive. In this entry I will attempt to sort out the jumble of thoughts that have been spinning round my head this week- thoughts that fly into my brain even when I least expect them to, like in the midst of watching a Polish documentary on a Saturday afternoon.<br /><br />Last weekend I visited the London Museum of Archaeology and came across an interesting display. A collection of animal skulls sat within a glass case and above it was mounted an explanation of the artifacts as well as an interesting comment about collections as a whole. It explained that humans began collecting in earliest times as a means of survival. A store of food was a safety net in case the hunters and gatherers weren't so successful in ticking items off their grocery list that week.<br /><br />It gave me something to think about, this idea of collecting as a means of survival. As I left the museum, I wondered if we were the same today. In this information age we are amassing a digital collection so vast and so public that it is nearly impossible to contain and quantify it. It is also, as we have discussed in our Digital History class, in danger of disappearing altogether. Are we in danger of binging on our ability to collect? Are we simply turning into hoarders who collect just because we can, and consume what we want while allowing the rest of our collection to decay into garbage? You'd like to think that the earliest humans ate everything they saved.<br /><br />There's a psychological study here somewhere, and I'm sure someone has looked into the motivations behind our individual and collective need to possess and store. I do not pretend to be an expert here; what I am interested in exploring is how we as public historians can make sense of this pressing issue of the digital archive by perhaps understanding something about the role of collections to the human experience.<br /><br />One important factor, I think, is the feeling of possession. To be able to own an object and say that it represents you or someone you love is an empowering experience. In the documentary <span style="font-style: italic;">Katyn </span>the young soldier begs that an officer's personal effects be returned to his bereaved wife because to her they were treasured "relics." Her husband, or part of him at least, is immortalized through the meaning she gives to those pieces of his life that have remained. Similarly, in the film <span style="font-style: italic;">Amelie, </span>the Parisian Nino collects abandoned pictures from photo booths, piecing them together in a large book and making meaning out of objects that others see as garbage. But as we discussed in our class last week, one person's refuse is another's treasure- or relic, or art project.<br /><br />Ownership is comfort and empowerment, but at what point does the scale tip in the other direction and the possessor discovers that he or she has become the possessed? Collections give us meaning and identity but only so long as we remain in control. In A.S. Byatt's <span style="font-style: italic;">Possession </span>(aptly titled for this blog entry) the academic Mortimer Cropper is so determined to obtain the material artifacts of a poet's life that he sacrifices his own professional integrity in his quest to do so. It is the act of collecting- the chase- that takes precedence over the value of the objects themselves. This, I think, is the danger we are facing in the digital age.<br /><br />Is the internet turning into a tool for society's collective hunger to know more, have more at our fingertips? I think the London Museum of Archaeology's statement can still be applied here. There is a feeling of safety in the internet; that anything you need to know is there, just in case. It's the modern version of food storing to last the winter. The difference is that it is changing so quickly and accumulating so much information that we are struggling to keep up with it.<br /><br />I am not suggesting here that the web is an evil swelling mass that is dwarfing our little spider of humanity- a spider overwhelmed at the structure it created. What I think is that <span style="font-style: italic;">meaning </span>is necessary. The internet is a fantastic resource for the sharing of information, ideas, and culture across a global network. But it has become such a large collection that it is up to historians, archivists and librarians to collectively make meaning out of. Otherwise our collective histories are amassed and thrown out like last season's rotten harvest. We have to choose what to collect on the basis of what will be consumed; who will use this information and how it will be stored. As I mentioned earlier, it is not easy to decide what is trash and what is treasure, but it is necessary if we are going to be able to preserve everything. Let's possess the information rather than have it possess us, and be aware that our innate need to collect is both problematic as well as empowering in our relationship with the past.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9147915236021621726.post-53831152541831310982009-09-18T20:17:00.000-07:002009-09-21T14:52:39.272-07:00The first post about the pastIt is a Friday evening and I currently have a cold, but beginning this blog seems like a much better option than lying in bed with a box of tissues, feeling sorry for myself. At any rate, that is besides the point because this blog is not about my poor immune system or even the inane thoughts that pass through my head each day but about my year in the Public History program at the University of Western Ontario.<br /><br />I used to keep a journal. Technically, I still do, but it spends more time collecting dust in my desk drawer now than it does as a confidante of my day-to-day thoughts. But blogging, I think, is going to be different for a few reasons. First of all, I'm writing on this specific subject rather than the fact that my cat used my bathtub as a litter box for the third time this week.<br /><br />Secondly, people are going to be reading this (unless, of course, I am that boring, to which case I will revert back to said griping and self-pitying).<br /><br />Much of my inspiration for this first entry comes from a book I just read- <span style="font-style: italic;">Julie and Julia</span> by Julie Powell. While her blog focused on her attempt to cook all the recipes in Julia Child's <span style="font-style: italic;">Mastering the Art of French Cooking</span> within a year, her book and the resulting movie is an interesting example of the intersection between history, social memory, and blogging. As Powell progresses through the book, she finds that her life is transformed by a woman that lived and worked in a world fifty years ago. Child becomes her companion and mentor, taking on life in a modern, New York kitchen and helping a young woman turn her life around. At the end of the book, Julie hears that Child commented negatively on her blog and is, naturally, a little disappointed. But after some reflection she writes that "maybe if I met that Julia I wouldn't even like her. But I liked the Julia in my head- the only one I really knew, after all- just fine." She and her husband even end the project with a visit to the Julia Child exhibition in Washington, DC.<br /><br />As a new student of Public History I of course got excited that the final touch to the Julie/Julia project was a visit to a museum. But I think for many, museums and other heritage sites <span style="font-style: italic;">are </span>places of tribute where we can attach something tangible to the feeling that history has inspired or changed us in some way. History had lived within Julie's kitchen and in visiting Julia Child's own, she was reaching back.<br /><br />This, to me, is Public History: it does not necessarily need to be read, or listened to, or watched, but it does, I think, require an experience. A connection with the past that may be as unique as hearing the voice of Julia Child as you cook; as profound as standing at the Vimy Ridge memorial and tasting the mud and sweat and fear; as lighthearted as watching <span style="font-style: italic;">Monty Python and the Holy Grail </span>and thinking, hey, I wonder if they have something with that witch scene...<br /><br />You know this is where history happened and that you, somehow, have become a part of it and it you.Shelagh Stauntonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605583958759398213noreply@blogger.com0