El pasado es algo esencial e ineludible. Si nos faltara careceríamos de toda identidad, nada nos sería familiar, el presente no tendría sentido. Sin embargo, al mismo tiempo, el pasado también es una pesada carga que paraliza la innovación y que cierra el paso hacia el futuro. La memoria, la historia y las reliquias de tiempos pretéritos arrojan una luz sobre el pasado. Pero ese pasado que revelan no es sólo lo ocurrido sino, en buena medida, un pasado creado por nosotros, moldeado por una forma de erosión, de olvido y de intervenciones selectivas. Esta magistral obra nos muestra cómo el conjunto de todas estas fuerzas ha dado nueva forma al pasado conocido por todos los individuos y las épocas, y cómo, a partir del Renacimiento, el pasado se ha ido convirtiendo en un país extraño, distinto al presente. La conciencia cada vez más extendida de un pasado en expansión continua coincide con los esfuerzos por destruir, olvidar y convertir en obsoleto el legado de todos los pasados. Lowenthal muestra cómo la rebelión contra las trabas heredadas y el desdén por la tradición han conducido a difundir la amnesia cultural y a desarrollar un específico culto a la conservación, una manía por las raíces y una nostalgia generalizada. El pasado ha dejado de ser una sanción para los poderes o los privilegios heredados. Pese a todo, como foco de identidad personal y nacional y como baluarte contra cambios masivos y dolorosos, sigue siendo una fuerza tan potente como siempre lo fue en los asuntos humanos.
This book is both physically and symbolically massive. Lowenthal sets out to chronicle attitudes toward "the past" (in the broadest possible terms) from antiquity to present (albeit, his present is the 1980s). He paints his conclusions in pretty broad strokes, but does not insist that his generalizations be taken as truth. Rather, he aims to explore three primary themes: (1) how the past enriches or impoverishes us, and why we choose to embrace or shun it, (2) how our recollections and surroundings make us aware of the past, and how we respond to such knowledge and (3) why and how we change what is inherited, and how such alterations affect heritage and ideas of self. He explores these topics by looking at sites as varied as Disney World and the Roman relics. Though his focus is largely on spaces and things as large as buildings, he does pay some attention to smaller antiques, with at least a little discussion of the significance of printed matter (largely cribbed from Eisenstein) and orality (largely taken from Goody and Ong). However, what is most remarkable are not his (extensive) examples, but his larger conclusions regarding the past's significance and the lessons we might take from it. Rather than rehearsing the oft heard suggestion that we need to understand the past lest we should repeat it, Lowenthal asks what might prompt us to want to repeat or revivify various aspects of the past and encourages an understanding of heritage that reflects as much on what has already taken place as current attitudes or ideas. As he notes in his conclusion, "Every relic is a testament not only to its initiators but to its inheritors, not only to the spirit of the past but to the perspectives of the present."
An amazing interdisciplinary look at our relationship with the past. Nostalgia, progress, and anachronism all play a part in the (lengthy) multimedia show.
It is exhaustively detailed - the kind of book you'd be grateful for on a desert island. It would make a good 6-disc Ken Burns-style documentary. Come to think of it, why hasn't anyone made this into a documentary yet? It's practically begging to be turned into a mini-series.
The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there, but the past is assimilated in our lives, it permeates our present in most everything we do, which is why it remains integral to us all, and why we must examine its hold on us, its vestiges and our ways of managing them. That's the lesson David Lowenthal's seminal monograph teaches us.
"PHILOSOPHER (loud and clear): Men cannot really know the past. HISTORIAN (stupidly): What did you say? PHILOSOPHER (irritably): I said, 'Men cannot really know the past', and you know damn well that's what I said" (Lowenthal 1985, p 216). And that's a sample of it's brilliant style, in which the author takes us on a tour of our relationships with the past, considering everything from science fiction novels, to nostalgia and monument preservation. Lowenthal himself is a historian, but he pulls his sources from as diverse a selection as Denis the menace but also the writings of Nietzsche, piecing them together into a mosaic of references, held together by the plaster of his commentary, contextualizing and evaluation.
As an art historian interested in monument conservation, the meat of the book is to be found at the very end, the exquisitely written chapter 'Creative anachronism', but all throughout the book the author shows as that phenomena such as nostalgia and searching for our roots are intertwined, and the way to truly understand them is through a historical, sociological analysis, which for me personally served as a grad introduction to the chapter, that covered my primary interests. But what is really valuable about this book (besides the vast amounts of knowledge he synthesizes, seriously, the bibliography is 6 pages long) is the way that Lowenthal compartmentalizes his findings, which enables him to both go into extreme nuances and keep the attention of his readers, who might not be so well versed in the subjects that he is covering.
I found 'The Past is a Foreign Country' an essential read for anyone studying history, the same way I found Gombrich's essays on art essential for the study of art history, whilst I was beginning my university education. The only flaws I found pertain firstly to the role this book plays in 2020. While Lowenthal's foundlings from 1985 are still very much relevant, his recent passing prevents him from updating them. And secondly, he could have included a more explicit reflection on the limited-ness of his theory, considering he mostly analyzes western conceptions of time.
I read this in grad school for a historic preservation class. Many of my classmates complained bitterly about reading Lowenthal, but I was intrigued by the depth of his knowledge. It warmed the cockles of my geekish heart to read so many references to classical literature AND to science fiction...which made me think my education in the classics and love of sci-fi wasn't such a waste after all :)
Lowenthal launches an in-depth investigation into our relation to the past in this book. He discusses many angles and methods of perceiving, characterizing, and experiencing our past. He compares memory-past versus ancestral oral history versus formal documented past versus imagined past. Lowenthal highlights the many ways that we shape the past to fit our present—intentionally, subconsciously, and unintentionally, including when we are convinced we are being purely objective and truthful. Indeed, those who are the most convinced of their objectivity, are the ones with the most bias.
We alter the past every time we think about it. Our world view and our values significantly color how we see the past, the past of other cultures as well as our own, from ten years ago to 10,000 years ago. Conversely, the manifold influences from the multi-form past continuously transmogrify our present. We better understand our relationship with history as we understand this endlessly evolving lifecycle of past-colors-present-colors-past-colors-present-colors-past.
That we “see the past through our present-day lens” is a cliché, but also a fact. In this book Lowenthal shows us what that really means and how it works, with myriad examples.
The book shows us how we reject the past, shun obsolescent influences we deem out of touch, condemn world views that differ from today’s. We reject outmoded value systems, social systems, former popular attitudes with which we no longer identify. The book also shows us how we embrace the past, preserve old architecture, cherish old books and their old ideas, admire things “old-school,” view the past as full of wisdom, mix the bad in with the good into a romanticized nostalgia, fund historical preservation of all kinds, save old art from disintegration because losing them would be a horrific injury to culture. We go through each day shunning and embracing ideas and actions dating from ancient history through yesterday.
What we shun and what we embrace shapes part of who we are. Who we are, in turn, shapes our version of the “reality” we call “history,” or “our past,” or “the good old days,” or “those stodgy old days,” and a plethora of other judgment-laden labels. We create the past in our image, so that the aspects of it that align with our world view are elevated, and the aspects that do not align with our world view are deprecated. Through all this, we very often believe we can see the past as it really was.
Lowenthal makes the interesting point that the more radical the rejection of the past, the greater the dependence on the past. In that instance, the past serves as a counter example against which we hold ourselves in shining relief, as superior to the dusky has-been times. Conversely, it is often those who embrace the past the most who thoroughly wreck it. One example is in the restoration of buildings so that they seem hoary and stalwart, but in fact bear no resemblance to what the building once was. We often change old things to be “better-old-looking” based on our present day aesthetic preferences for what is aged. We do something similar in our Creative Anachronism events such as Renaissance Fairs where we make the old days all jolly and festive, or in our authentic historic villages such as Williamsburg, Virginia. Lowenthal does not pass judgment though, in fact, quite the opposite. He embraces any and all ways of “remembering” or valuing the past. Keeping it alive in some aspect is better than forgetting. It also seems to be a healthy practice for everyone involved. Imitation is the greatest flattery, and often the imitation is much nicer than the original.
One example Lowenthal mentions is that the changes to the Bloomsbury district of London were so comprehensive, that it bore no resemblance to the old neighborhood. But soon, no one remembered the old look. After a few years, tourists flocked to the district and experienced awe at the quaint charm of the authentic historic quarter. Is this a problem? Lowenthal cites many historians, architects, and others, on both sides. Some think it is a horrible outcome. Others think it’s the best possible outcome. Lowenthal, ever the voice of reason, asks Why judge? Everyone experiences the past in their own way. Everyone molds the past to fit their own way. Everyone values something different about history and memory and the æsthetics of antiquity.
Copyists paint copies of famous old paintings. In some cases, the 1800s copy of a 1600s painting is as valuable as the 1600s original. Some imitation Tudor homes are far more authentic in appearance than actual old Tudor homes still standing. The original Tudor buildings are in such a ruin that the original inhabitants would not recognize it—but they would recognize, and prefer, the new “imitation.”
Some argue there is an attrition of meaning, as we favor imitations, reenactments, anachronisms, copies. Some also fault museums. Taking precious old objects out of their original setting, putting them into a sterile new building, wipes away any vestige of authenticity of context or meaning. They argue that painstaking care should be applied to keep old things in their original state. Any exploration of the past should aim towards maximum verisimilitude in every way. But all these competing approaches to experiencing the past need not be mutually exclusive. One can appreciate in multiple ways. And in fact, most people do just that. They appreciate museums, old original settings still in situ and intact, original art, copies of art, ruins, restorations, imitations, unchanged remote villages, and Ye Olde Festivals.
Most everyone likes the past in some way or another. This is evident in how most everyone cringes at dystopian nightmares where the past is destroyed, or totally falsified, such as in Orwell’s Ministry of Truth. We want to know that the past is there, that it is at least partially within reach, and that someone is keeping records.
As we grow older, much of our “memory-past” also becomes “history-past.” Now the senses—smells, sounds, sights—bring a flood of memories. Now the history-past becomes highly subjective as it mingles with our memory-past’s inner life and nostalgia. Then we ourselves become a piece of the past. When younger people see older people, they often merge older people in with older homes, older cars, long-past wars, out-of-touch ideas, forgotten presidents, and outdated fashions—or conversely—with wise old owls, tough old birds, rough old school characters, windows into ancient lore. We “people the past” with our older people. Here again, we remold the past to fit our fancy.
One troubling trend that Lowenthal points out: While there is huge increase in anachronistic festivals, reenactments, creation and traffic in museums, historical novels and movies—there is also a deep decline in history majors in college. People increasingly want to have fun with the past, but decreasingly want to put in the effort to really understand it. Fortunately, we have Lowenthal and the like, giving us a deep dive into the very concept of history and a very rewarding 400+ pages of historical insights.
Conclusion Given that, theoretically, there must be a perfectly true and accurate past that exists back there in time—it is most certainly the most remote, obscure, unintelligible, irrecoverable, foreign-est of all foreign countries imaginable. We can pretend, but we cannot and will never speak its language, feel its feelings, think its thoughts. At the same time, we are inextricably integrated into the past. Our every word, every feeling, and every thought emanates from the past. Yet, we cannot know it.
If this sounds like a sad ending, that’s my fault. The book is very uplifting and the multi-form ways of learning, experiencing, and appreciating the past are fully fleshed out in Lowenthal’s analysis. Anyone with the faintest feeling for our shared timeline will love this book. It was a very rewarding experience.
Opino como Lowenthal. Somos consumidores del pasado, vivimos a base de recuerdos e idealizamos ese pasado como si fuera una reliquia que conservar porque nos da miedo el futuro incierto.
Full disclosure here: I skimmed the hell out of this book because I checked it out of the Smith college library in, like, June, and then forgot about it for months of summertime, until I finally checked my UMass email and realized it was way overdue. I kinda wish I had it on my shelf now. I should have bought it when Lowenthal came to UMass to talk last year. It isn't all that focused, but in essence it is a really long, interesting discussion of how people think about the past, study the past, use and change and love and hate the past. Lowenthal brings up a wealth of other authors, too, not only academic historians but also sci-fi time travel writers and other novelists. This is the kind of book that encourages me to take notes on other people to read and interesting points to ponder. There is a lot of interesting writing here on how different societies have been either reverent or irreverent towards history, and how and why certain groups of people have latched onto what they see as "golden ages." The lay reader probably isn't going to care all that much, but students of history should look through this book. Students of public history should keep it on their shelves.
I skimmed this book, and may want to return to it. Lowenthal's approach is so multidisciplinary that it is often scattershot, but his attempt at a unifying historiography is valuable. I've been thinking recently about the nineteenth-century creation of my own historical discipline, and Lowenthal's analysis of that era is nicely done. Although he really tries to do too much in one work, this synthetic book offers a good introduction to the notion of the invention of history.
3.5 probably. Lowenthal looks at the different ways we relate to the past—idealizing a golden age, imagining a barbaric past we've risen above, using the past as models for our own lives—and the various ways we learn about the past, such as memory, written history, film and artifacts. The analysis is good, but it's very detailed and dense, so be warned.