I have been making jokes about this in the recent past. Even thought I’d do a post on it here. Arthur Krystal beat me to the punch. In the New Yorker [May 30th] is his review of At Days’s Close: Night in Times Past by Roger Ekirch. Krystal opens the review with a bit of snark about the glut of “pop-history” books [as I term it]:
There are many more such pop-histories, rarely written by actual historians. A sample: There is corn, sugar, potato, vanilla, chocolate, cotton, hemp, heroin, cocaine, screws and screwdrivers, the wife, the numbers: zero, e and pi, hair, lesbian hair, fart, and finally [because I must REALLY stop], hip.
So what is going on? Before I get to my thoughts, here is what Krystal postulates:
Despite the book covers and titles, these are, broadly speaking, social or cultural histories of Western society. They follow a pretty set template – you start with classic literature and move on up to colonial records and archives and finally to 19th/20th c. cultural productions. They follow, if you will, a colored string through the various garments crumpled in the laundry basket of the past [eek!]. The emphasis is not to present a complete picture of a specific figure, time-period, region or practice but to gallop down the teleological path from then to now. The emphasis is to tell the history of commodity or consumption – in of itself [hint hint].
In this regard, these studies do mark a particular trend in the commercial reception of knowledge. They are dated before they are published, in my humble opinion. One can optimistically view them as trojan horses send into the masses to get them interested in history. Or one can pessimistically view them as the only vehicle for mass-publication available. Regardless, we can ask some questions: Are they popular? It is hard to say. None of these books have charted the NYT Bestsellers list while the tomes about DWM has been around there for a while. Are they any good? I have only read the one on Sugar and it is good. Most seem sketchy because…Are historians writing them? Hardly. A solid majority comes from the lit-crit crowd and the odd journalists. One can always put “A History of” in front of whatever without accrediation as a historian.
This is not to diss micro-histories which are, of course, a valuable tool of scholarship. To a generation of historians, Carlo Ginzburg’s The Cheese and the Worm: The Cosmos of a Sixteenth-Century Miller will serve as a template. But, then, Ginzburg’s micro-history isn’t the same as these pop-histories that we are discussing here.
I need an agent.
update: Evan at The Scope documents how all these micro-histories claim their it “changed the world”.