Hunt New Cultural History Intro
Hunt New Cultural History Intro
Hunt New Cultural History Intro
Introduction:
History, Culture, and Text
LYNN I-fUNT
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/11trodultio11
the 193os, and took its curren! name, Annales: Economies, Socits, Civilisations, in 1946. The Annales becarne a school-or at
leas! began to be so called-when it was institutionally affiliated with the Sixth Section of the Ecole Pratique des Hautes
Eludes after World War ll. Fernand Braudel provided a sense of
unity and continuity by both presiding over the Sixth Section
and directing the Annales in the 195os and 196os.' By the 197os,
the prestige of the school was international; thc 1979 lnlcrnational Handbook of Historical Studies contained more index entries for the Annales school than for any other subject except
Marx and Marxisrn. 5
But was there reZllly an Ann<.1IL'S "paradign1," as
'J'r;.li;.111
at least in part to his conso!idation of irnportant acadernic positions), his example did not inspire much specifically comparable work. Rather, French historians of the third Annales generation-rnen such as Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie and Pierre
Goubert-established an alternative model of total regional
history, focusing not on world econornic regions but on regions
within France. In their work, econornic and social history dorninatl'd; lhl'
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Lynn Hunt
,'ntroduction
Yel for ,di lhl'ir 1llcnliPll l.l tite worki11gs o tite "superslrllt'-
ture," r.iost rviarxist historiJns have done lit tic rnore than finc-
born~or
enter in-
Lynn Hunt
Marxist interest in culture may prove the rule. In his pathbreaking collection of essays Languages of C/ass, Gareth Stedman Jones tried to grapple with the inadequacies of the M;i rxist
approach. ln discussing the Chartist language of class, he observes: "What has not been sufficiently questioned is whether
this language can simply be analysed in terms of its expression
of, or correspondence to, the putative consciousness of a particular class or social or occupational group." Likewise, he criticizes Thompson for assuming "a relatively direct relationship
between 'social being' and 'social consciousness' which leaves
litt!e independent space to the ideological context within which
the coherence of a particular language of class can be reconstituted." Yet by showing the importance of the ideological tradition of radicalism and of the changing character and policies
of the state, Stedman Jones is in effect moving away from a
Marxist an<1lysis. J\s he hin1sLff n1ainlnins in his inlroduction,
"We cannot therefore decode political language to reach a primal and material expression of interest since it is the discursive
structure of political language which conceives and defines interest in the first place." 17 Can such a radical displacement of
the Marxist agenda still be considered Marxist?
The challenge to old models has been especially dramatic
within the Annales school. Although economic, social, and demographic history have remained dominnt in the i\nnalcs ilscif
(accounting for more than half the articles from 1965 to 1984),
mtellectual and cultural history ha ve taken a strong second place
(c!a1mmg sorne 35 percent of the articles, as opposed to 11-1
percent on political history). As the fourth generalion of An-4
nales historians have become increasingly preoccupied with
what the French rather enigmatically term menta/its, economic
and. social history have receded in importance." This deepenmg mteres_t m _mentalits (even among the older generation of
Annales h1stonans) has likewise led to new challenges to the
Annales paradigm.
18
17.
~areth
In~roducton
2l
of expenence.
.
In turning to the investigation of cultural prachces, Annales
~istorians su:h as Chartier and Revel have been mfluenced by
l;OllL'dLlil's L'l'itit.is111 of thL' fund.inll'l\l,il tl!i~H1111plio1t~1 nf ~1n,io1l
~istory. Foucault demonstratEd that there are no "natura.1''. in:ellectual objecls. As Charlier expbined, "M,1dnl'ss, medicine,
and the statE are not categmies that can be conceptuahzed 111
:erms of universa Is whose contents each epoch particularizes" ;"
:hey are historically given as "<liscursive objects," and since
:hey are histcrically grounded and by implicatio1: alwys chang.ng, they cannot provide a transcendent or universal founda~ ion :1r
historic.11 111l'lhnd.
Certain similarities exist between Foucault ami l'Vt'n the firsl,111d sccond-genemlion An11,1les hislmi,1ns; ,i1 lhtse schul,1rs
were lo<)king for anonymous rules governing collective prilC-
"~uhjlct"
from history. Unlike the first generations of Annales historians,
nowever, Fo:.icault was fundamentally antipositivist. He d1d
not believe that the social sciences could be united in investigating the nature of man, precisely because he disavowed the
very concept of "man" and the very possibility of method in the
social sciences. lndeed, sorne cornrnentators have called his
"genealogies" an "antirnethod." 23
Although historians have been intrigued by Foucault's trenchant criticisrns, they have not taken his rnethod-or antirnethod-as a rnodel for their practice. Foucault refused to
offer causal analysis and denied the validity of any reductive
relationship between discursive forrnations and their sociopolitical contexts-between changes in views of madness, for
exarnple, and social and political changes in seventeenth- and
eighteenth-century France. He vehernently argued against research in to origins, and his "genealogies" required none of the
usual grounding in economcs, society, or politics. As a consequence, though his local insighls into lhL' funclioning of particular institutions and types of discourse have generated considerable research (rnuch of it airning to correct Foucault's own
often jerry-built constructions), his overall agenda rernains
idiosyncratic. And how could it be otherwise, when Foucault
described his version of history as one that "disturbs what
was previously considered irnrnobile; ... fragments what was
thought unified; ... shows the heterogeneity of what was irnagined consistent with itself," and when he proclairned that "I am
well aware that 1 have never written anything but iictions"? Adrnittedly, he went on to say: "l do not mean to go so foras lo say
that fictions are beyond truth [hors vrit]. It seems to me that it
is possible to n1ake fiction work insid<..' o lrulh."' 1 Yl'I hl' lll'Vl'r
23. For a useful discussion of Foucault's methods, see Larry Shiner, "Reading Foucault: Anti-Method and the Genealogy of Power-Knowledge," History
and Theory 21 (1982): 382-97; and Hubert L. Dreyfus and Paul Rabinow,
fv!ichel Foucault: Betjond Structuralism and Henneneutics (Chicago, 1982). The
d1fference between the Annales school and "structuralism" is discussed in
Stuart Clark, "The Annales Historians," in The Return of Grand Theory in the
Human Sciences, ed. Quentin Skinner (Cambridge, 1985), pp. 177-98. Clark
observes that "the structural history of Braudel and the Annales owes more to
their hostility to any form of phenomenology than to their anticipation of
structuralism" (p. 195). Braudel's determinism was based on a preference for a
natural rather than a cultural account of experience (p. 192).
24. Quoted in Allan Megill, Propltets of Extre1r1ity: Nietzsche, Heidegger, Fou~
cau/t, Derrida (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1985), pp. 235, 234.
Jntrod11ctio11
Lynn Hunt
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. But Furet and Darnton are in sorne ways unfair in thcir critic1sm, not. least because they themselves work in the genre they
attack. H1stonans such as Chartier and Revcl have not simply
proposed a new. set of topics for investigation; they have gone
beyond mentalztes to question the methods and goals of history
generally (wh1ch 1s why their work is so filled with prolegomena
on method). They have endorsed Foucault's judgment that the
very top1cs of the human sciences-man, madness, punishment, and sexuahty, for mstance-are the product of historically contingent discursive formations. This radical critique has
a bas1c problem, however, and that is its nihilistic strain. Where
will we be when every practice, be it economic, intellectual, soC!al, or. political, has been shown to be culturally conditioned?
To put 1t another way, can a history of culture work if it is shorn
of .JI theoretic~I. <i~:->un1ptions <ibout culturc's relationship tu tht
l'Ssays in Su1irly r111rl ( '11//11r. 11.r l:flr/y Mnrl<'rlt f'rrt11/'1', N;1lali1 '/..
mining of all assumptions about the relationship between culture and the social world?
. The essays in this volume are devoted to an exploration of
ust. such queslions. Par! One examines, critically and apprecrnlively, the models that have already been proposed for the
h1story of culture. Par! Two presents concrete examples of the
new kinds. of work that are currently under way. The reader
w11l find little 1n th: w<1y of sociologicill theorizing in thcsl'
pages because the nse of !he new cultural history has been
marked by a decline of intense debate over the role of socio~og1cal theory within history (at least among historians of cul-
c1ology, !he mfluential disciplines are anthropology and literHistory: A Progress. Report," fournal of Social Hislory 19 (1985): 3i9- . As
~tearns htmsel.f adm1tted 1n an earlier essay, "Topical social historv has34an inerently centnfugal tende.ncy_. The topical approach thus not ony reflects a
lack of broader. concep!ua~1zah?n but ~lso positively hinders the development
of an appropnate soc1oh1stoncal penodization" ( "Toward a Wide y 5 .
Trends in Social History," in The Past Befare Us, ed. Kammen, p. : / ;~?~
n~te"'."orthy that cultural history a ppeared in The Past Befare Us in tandem
~1th 1n.tellect1:1al h.istory (Darnton, "Intellectual and Cultural History") rather
t an w1~h social h.1story. But of course, Darnton himself is the rnost social history-onented of 1ntellectual historians.
24
from social re<llity, festive life can ... perpetuate certain v,1Jues
1
12
!11trod11Ction
Lynn Hunt
13
culture.
~',lHJtls." ( l'fl\r.d !o th<1l IP(',l" 11n th1 WlYH 111d 11110111~-1 f ;1p1n1-
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Lyn11 Hunf
of stage directions. His focus on the triangular relatonship between the text as conceived by the author, as printed by the
publisher, and as read (or heard) by the reader brows in to
doubt sorne of the canonical conceptions of the history of culture, in particular the diChotomy between popular and educated or elite culture.
Unlike Roger Chartier, most historians of culture have been
relatively reluctant to use literary theory in any direct way.
In his essay "Literature, Criticism, and Historical lmagination: The Literary Challenge of Hayden White and Dominick
LaCapra" (chapter 4), Lloyd Kramer surveys the \\'ork of the
two historians most closely associated with literary theory. His
focus on documents that are texts in the literary sense, but cultural historians who work with documents other than great
books have not found literary theory to be especially relevan!.
One of the purposes of this volume is to show how a new generation of historia ns of culture use literary techniques and approaches to develop new materials and methods of analysis.
Kramer's essay also demonstrates the great vanety of hterary
influences at wrk. The writings of White and LaCapra alone
display significan! divergences in emphasis-White aligns himself with Foucault and Frye, LaCapra with Bakhtin and Derrida.
There are, after al!, theories that emphasize the reception, or
reading, of texts and those that emphasize their production,
or writing, those that emphasize the unity and coheren~e of
meaning and those that emphasize the play of difference and
the ways in which texts work to subvert their apparent goals."
Jusl a:-> (~eerl:1. ;.111d Sahlins rl'prcstnl l wo poi es in inthrop(l.og1-
cal writing-Geertz em phasizing unity, Sahlins d ifferer.ceso too does literary criticism have its similarly dichot\>mized
approaches: in Fredric jameson's words, "old-fashioneC. 'interpretation,' which still asks the text whal it 111cans, and the
newer kinds of analysis which .. -. ask how it works" (that is, in
particular, deconstruction, a critica! approach closely associated with ]acques Derrida)."' The former emphasizes unity; the
latter, difference.
Unity is made possible in interpretation" by what Jameson
calls "an allegorical operation in which a text is systematically
rewritten in terms of sorne fundamental master c\lde ur 'ultimately determining instance."' Following this line of reason-
ing,
White and LaCapra to expand the boundaries of cultural history, yet it remains sensitive to the reasons for the continued
marginalization of such work. lt is no accident that, in America,
literary influences first emerged in intellectual history, with its
into logical classes which organizes the perception of the social world is itself
the product of intemalization of the division into social classes" (Distinction:
A Social Critique of the fudgment of Taste, trans. Richard Nice [Cambridge,
~ass., 1984], pp. xiii, 1, 170). This quote captures very well Bourdieu's relat1onship ~o Marxism: the habitus is both determined by the social world and
determ1n1ng of the perception of it.
VJl'
L_11111
Jiunt
Yct at thc san1c lin1L', ]<1111L'son cuncludcs that tl_L' tensiun L)L'tween the analysis of what a text means and how it works is a
tension inherent in language itse!f." Unity is not possible without a sense of difference; difference is certainly not graspab!e
without an opposing sense of unity. Thus, historia ns of culture
reaiiy do not have to choose (or reaiiy cannot choose) between
the two-between unity and difference, between :neaning and
working, between interpretation and deconstruction. just as
historians need not choose between sociology and anthropology or between anthropology and literary theory in conducting
their investigations, neither must they choose once and for ali
between interpretive strategies based on uncovering rneaning
on the one hand and deconstructive strategies based on uncovering the text's modes of production on the other. His'.orians do not have to ally themselves single-mindedlv with either Clifford Geertz or PiL'ITL' Bourdieu, with eithL'r ~~urthrop
Frye or jacques Derrida.
Although there are many differences within and bctween anthropological and literary models, one central tendencv in both
seerns currently to fascina te historians of culture: the u~e of language as metaphor. Symbolic actions such as riots or cat massacres are framed as texts to be read or languages to be decoded.
In his criticism of Darnton, Chartier has drawn attention to the
problems caused by the "metaphoricol use of the v-"cabuhry of
linguistics": it obliterates the difference between symbolic actions and written texts, it defines syrnboiic forrn' so brn:idly
that nothing is excluded, and it tends to consider svmbols as
fixed in their n1eaning. w Yet, though theSL' w;.1rni11gs ;1rL' L\.'r-
whdt does
d11d
LS
the reiation between the picture or novel and the world it purports to represent7 The new cultural history asks the s_ame
kinds of questions; first, though, it has to estabhsh the obects
cf historical study as being like those of literature and art. An
example of this endeavor can be seen in Thomas Laqueur's
essay in Part Two, "Bodies, Details, and Humanitarian Narrative" (chapter 7), in which autopsy reports are shown to constitute a kind of literary canon.
I attempted a similar task in the first chapter of m~, recent
book on the French Revolution when 1 claimed to treat the d1verse utterances of revolutionary politicians ... as constituting
one text."'0 The oniy basis for this claim was its potential fruitfu!ness for anaiysis and explanation, and the claim rnust stand
eor fall on those grounds. My aim was not to reduce revolutionarv discoursl' to
UllL' s!;hlL
nfllclon
of
co-mmunity, for exarnple) but rather to show how politicai lang,uage could be used riwtoricallv ll> build a stnst' l>I n>mmun1tv
and at the same time to establish new fields of social, poltica!,
and cultural struggle-that is, make possible unity and difference at the same time. The point of the endeavor was to examhe the ways in which linguistic prnctice, rather than simply reflecting social reality, could actively be an instrument ot (or
constitutc) ro\l\'{'f. Whcn n;ition;i] gui1r<lsmcn i1Skcrl, "/\re you
l"t>/1111111
rjty. Words did not just relect social and political reality; they
were instruments for transforming reality.
Mary Ryan makes a similar point in her essay in Part Two,
"The American Parade: Representations of lhe NineleenlhCentury Social Order" (chapter 5). This essay brings the unityand-difference therne into sharp relief. Parades created a sense
cf comrnunity (pluralist democracy) in American cities precisely by expressing important lines of social and gender division. Ryan shows how critica] a historical understanding of rit40. Hunt, Politic5, C11lt11re, a11d Class, p. 25
Ly11n Hunf
nH.~lhods
of lhe history
o(
cullure
mythic constructs, 1 sought to re-create the way gender channeled the impact of social change and the experience and exercise of power. The dialectic between language as social mirror
and language as social agent formed the core of my analysis.""
Here gender as a system of cultural representation that is al
once social, literary, and linguistic is especially in view.
The methodological implications of the study of gender have
41. Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Cond11ct' Visions of Gender in Vicforian A111erica (New York, g85), p. 45.
-
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quesl without end, lhl ironic doubling bnck ovl'r tl'rritory 111-
more surprisingly, to recast the terms of art-historical debate itself. He historicizes the process of seeing by showing that even
forms have historical content. This approach is tr~mendously
exciting because it pushes cultural history beyond the stage of
incorporating insights from other disciplines and into a position of refashioning adjacent disciplines in its tum_
Al! of the essays in Par! Two are centrally concerned with the
they inevitably begin to reflect on the nature of t.-.eir own efforts to represent history; the practice of history :s, alter ali,
a process of text creating and of "seeing," that is, giving form
to subjects. Historians of culture, in particular, are bound to
become more aware of the consequences of their often unselfconscious literary and formal choices. The master narratives, or codes of unity or difference; the choice of allegories,
analog1es, or trepes; the structures of narrative-these have
weighty consequences for the writing of history.
In the 196os, great emphasis was placed on the icentification
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tions of social theory, the most venturesomc, ond tlw fpasl wplf
developed.""
For the moment, as this volume shows, the accent in cultural
history is on clase examination-of texts, of pictures, and of actions-and on open-mindedness to what those examinations
will revea!, rather than on elaboration of new master narratives
or social theories to replace the materialist reductionism of
Marxsm and the Annales school. (Are we headed here far a
"comc" ending in literary terms? An ending that promises reconciliation of all contradictions and tensions in the pluralist
manner most congenia! to American historians?) Historians
working in the cultural mode should not be discouraged by
theoretical diversity, far we are just entering a remarkable new
phas when the other human sciences (including especially literary studies but also anthropology and sociology) are discovering us anew. Thc very use of thc tern1 11c70 1Tisforil'is111 in
literary studies, far example, shows this development. The emphasis on representation in literature, art history, unthropology, and sociology has caused more and more of our counterparts to be concerned with the historical webs in which their
objects of study are caught. Someday soon, presumably, another E. H. Carr will announce that the more cultural historical
studies become and the more historical cultural studies become, the better far both.
47. Clifford Geertz, "Blurred Genrcs: Thc Rcfiguration ofSoci.1l Thought,"
in Loen/ K11ou1/edgc: Furllwr f,.,say:-: i11 l11lcr1r'fh1r /\11//Jro11ofosy (Nt'W York, ft)HJ),
l'11rl 011<'