I love studying history. I love it so much that I devote most of my weekdays to it; so much that I spend a good chunk of my spare time and weekends trying to learn languages to help me with it; so much that I can maybe, just maybe, see myself doing it for the rest of my life. But in the nine years since I began studying it with a serious interest (in Year 11 at high school), I have never found a book on history that I couldn't put down - until now.
To be fair, Inga Clendinnen's Dancing with Strangers (2003) is much more than just "a book on history". Part narrative reconstruction, part anthropological analysis, part personal essay, it takes the surviving textual records penned by the first British settlers in New South Wales and attempts to interpret the interactions between those settlers and the native inhabitants of Port Jackson, Botany Bay, Broken Bay and the surrounding areas from 1788 through to the early years of the nineteenth century. In elegant, vivid prose that glides effortlessly across the main incidents under examination, Clendinnen paints a rich picture of the hardships of life for both native Australians and colonising British in this frontier society perched on what was then, to European minds at least, the very edge of the known world.
Thanks both to the author's style and the intrinsic interest of the subject itself, the story is riveting from the first page. One of the real pleasures of this book comes from navigating the various perspectives that Clendinnen weaves throughout her version of the tale. One moment the historian speaks, collating her numerous sources, citing colourful extracts from the private journals, public annals, letters and other documents of men like Governor Arthur Phillip, whom I realise now has been nothing but a semi-legendary name to me since I was a child; the next, the anthropologist takes charge, dissecting what these extracts tell us about British perspectives on Australian society and culture and what they might (perhaps) tell us about the Australians' own views. The historian has a practised eye for selecting passages that can prove most revealing and imaginatively provocative for non-experts and general readers; the anthropologist has a wonderful way with words and a rare ability to render her thought processes lucid and her conclusions intelligible.
I can quite honestly say that I have never enjoyed a historian's writing so much. The only "history books" that have had anything near the same effect on me to date are the highly readable three volumes on the crusades by Steven Runciman (a decent enough historian for his time, though his moralising approach and materialistic conclusions are outdated now), Peter Brown's beautifully written and scholarly (though very dense) reflections on the late antique/early medieval world in The Rise of Western Christendom: Triumph and Diversity (2013 [3rd ed.]) and the first part of Richard Evans' trilogy on the rise and fall of the Nazi Party, The Coming of the Third Reich (2003). Despite the fact that Dancing with Strangers is so compelling, however, I did find myself struggling at times to accept all of Clendinnen's conclusions about the behaviour of the Australians and the intention behind this (and even of the British themselves). As a historian by training I am unfamiliar with (and probably a little uneasy about) the anthropological method of inferring meaning from human actions, rituals and interactions - even more so when those actions have been recorded by, and therefore refracted through the interpretive outlooks of, strangers whose ability to grasp their significance is severely hampered, even non-existent. That said, Clendinnen does not attempt, at least as far as I can see, to suggest that her interpretation is absolutely correct, or that there is no room for others. She always makes it clear (usually by inserting the reassuring phrases "in my view", "I think", "my opinion is…") when she is moving from the content of the texts themselves into her own efforts to decode them. There is no programmatic agenda seeking to argue that her version of the story is iron-clad and representative of how things actually were - wie es eigentlich gewesen, von Ranke is supposed to have said. In that sense I feel as if the subtitle in the edition I read is misrepresentative, and can only have been forced upon the book by the British publisher: "The True History of the Meeting of the British First Fleet and the Aboriginal Australians, 1788." I would be interested to know what Clendinnen herself thought (or still thinks?) of that.
Together with a brilliant piece Clendinnen wrote for the Quarterly Essay in 2006 ('The History Question: Who Owns the Past?'), which I read a few days ago, Dancing with Strangers has reaffirmed my belief that studying history, reading about history, thinking about history, and most importantly, talking and writing about history, has a place in this world. Even if their conclusions are (thankfully!) susceptible to debate and refinement, as I believe many of Clendinnen's are and probably have been (I know nothing about this field, so I have no idea), historians' ultimate goal is - or should be - to expand and deepen human understanding. As Clendinnen demonstrates in this book with great perception and skill, "Every society is adept at looking past its own forms of violence, and reserving its outrage for the violence of others" (p. 190). (A statement that resonates particularly with the events of the past few weeks.) A few years after its publication, however, she wrote in her long essay: "My faith is that humans will injure each other less when they understand themselves and each other better … It might be true that humans are impervious to reason and compassion, and are therefore unredeemable. If they are, history is indeed 'bunk', because its intrinsic purpose is to increase the role of reason and compassion in this world."
I'm still too young, inexperienced and (probably) idealistic to pay much attention to the arguments against this view. But I will keep doing history until I'm convinced that it is worthless. All I can say for now is that books like Dancing with Strangers which remind us of the cultural chasms in the world (past and present) as well as the riches to be gained by crossing them prove that history has a whole lot to offer before it becomes truly "bunk".