Goals and Other Ideas

While it’s not traditional to profess your new year’s resolutions a full month into said new year, I decided it’s never too late to do such a thing. And besides, after a month of thinking about them, they’ve crystallized a bit more and I’ve developed a clearer vision of what I hope to achieve.

I’m not a huge resolution person, but every year I try a couple small things. Last year, I wound up with “monthly resolutions” for the first half of the year. These tended to be about one little thing per month that I could work on – such as adding a serving of fruit to my daily diet, drinking a bottle of water in the morning and one in the afternoon, or flossing.  Some lasted, some didn’t (that water thing, for example, tends to be tricky for me – but liberal doses of tea in the winter help mitigate that problem).

This year, I don’t know whether I’ll keep at the monthly resolutions, but I have one for February.

For 2011 as a whole, my goals are:
1. Run a 5K before the end of June
2. Run a 10K before the end of the year
3. Graduate

This may be a bit overly simplistic, but that means they’re also doable. Maybe “graduate” shouldn’t be on there, since it’s pretty much a given at this point – but why not take the brownie points where you can? Still, the 5K and 10K are real goals: I’m now running 33 minutes at a time, 3 times a week, with a goal of getting myself to 60  minutes of running time before that 5K. Which will be sometime when the weather warms up, because I have my limits.

For February, I’m keeping it even simpler. My mantra for the next four weeks is:

Stress Less.

That may be less simple than it sounds, but it’s my goal. I figure it’s a good one right about now, as I’ll also be getting revisions to the dissertation out the door in the next couple of weeks.  I’m toying with the idea of daily meditation, but haven’t figured out whether that’s for me or not.

Somewhat simple, definitely short: I feel like none of these goals are terribly complex, but all are worthwhile in their own way. This year, I’ll take it all as it comes.

And things will happen.


When Idina Menzel Went Barefoot

Somewhere in the past few weeks, I stalled on the dissertation….with only one chapter left to revise (before tweaking the rest based on some recent committee member feedback). I finished 2010 strong, considering that I spent the final week of the year trying to redo one of the toughest chapters, but this year things have been more challenging.

Of course, there are always many reasons for a stall like the one I’ve experienced. In my case, it was a combination of going out of town (for the AHA) at the beginning of the year, coupled with ongoing stress and frustration over the job market and the occasional despairing feeling about life after May 2011. Coming to the end of a dissertation and grad school has been fairly challenging overall, and at times like I’ve had recently it’s been more difficult to feel like celebrating the distances I’ve come and the accomplishments I’ve made.

But hey, it’s no fun if things are always easy, right? And I’m discovering a lot of interesting things in my dissertation revisions that I hadn’t realized before. Slowly, I’m getting there.

Last weekend, I knew I had to turn a corner. I told myself it was time to kick back into gear and get things moving forward, although I had no clue how I’d do that. Fortunately, I had family in town for about twenty-four hours, which provided a fun distraction. And then I had tickets to see Idina Menzel perform with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra.

Not that I felt much like going. The weather was rotten and I was in a blah sort of mood, halfheartedly thumbing through a book that wasn’t really terribly helpful for the dissertation. But I went. And of course, there’s nothing quite like hearing showtunes sung by a world-class performer, especially when she’s arrived barefoot to sing to us.

I adore music, but I forget how much I love live music because I hear it so rarely. I particularly forget how poignant it can be to hear some of your favorite songs, especially the ones you’ve forgotten about. Since there was no pre-announced program for the concert, everything felt a bit serendipitous.

I loved the serendipitousness and fun of it all, from indulging in the special drink of the day (a Ruby Slipper – champagne with grenadine – in honor of Menzel’s past role in Wicked) to oohing and ahhing over the lobby of Powell Hall (I’d never been before) to loving every minute of the performance. It was absolutely just what I needed, from her renditions of Streisand and Cole Porter to her original songs to the crowd-pleasing songs from Wicked and Rent and Glee.

It was perfect, and more than that, it was a perfect turning point for my month. I came out of there feeling like I’d found my way again and was ready to move on.

And today, I did.

 

Recreating Narratives of Slavery and Civil War

As you may have heard via this piece in The Atlantic or this slide show on MSNBC, St. Louis generated a bit of attention last Saturday with the reenactment of a slave auction.

Incidentally, most of the attention came only just before and after the event took place. I only learned about it from a former fellow grad student who mentioned it on Twitter, and two days before the event I found only one media piece about the upcoming event. The few reactions I saw to the event (before it happened) indicated people were torn over the idea: while it seemed like an important event to draw attention to the realities of slavery, there were also concerns about whether such an event was a good idea. One faculty member I know indicated that National Park Service staff members also seemed a little uneasy about how the event would be received. (And perhaps with good reason: in 1994 Williamsburg held such a reenactment, which encountered protest from the NAACP.)

The event, which was framed by an introduction from the NPS and concluded with an open forum for more discussion and explanation, lasted maybe an hour and a half – not long at all, and even shorter when you consider that the actual auction was only perhaps 30 minutes long. In addition to the slave reenactors there were reenactors dressed as soldiers, abolitionists, and members of the public (not to mention the auctioneer and purchasers). In all, they reenacted the sale of about four or five individuals, including a woman who loudly protested the need to be sold with a young man (presumably her husband) and two young children.

In the several days since the event, I’ve discovered that I’ve found myself most inclined to think about the nature of reenactments and their place in American culture and history education. The auction reenactment was a peculiar event: I suspect you won’t find similar events over the coming 150th anniversary events of the Civil War, although you’ll find plenty of battles and other occasions. When it comes to recreating slavery and its realities, drawing attention to slave auctions seems to strike many people as too intense.

Yet…when was the last time anyone questioned whether battlefield reenactments were appropriate? As Tony Horwitz covered in Confederates in the Attic, there’s a major subculture of reenactors throughout the US. I’ve met and spent time with some of them, thanks to my time at West Point. Wikipedia informs me that Civil War reenactments are as old as the war itself, with the more recent trend in reenactments probably emerging from the centennial of the war in the 1960s. I suspect, then, that there may be some literature in the 1960s questioning whether or not reenactments are “good” or not, but to my knowledge no one brings up such questions today. We have an entire subculture (largely male) that thrives on going out into battlefields and recreating bloodshed. We call this a way to remember and understand what our ancestors fought for and experienced.

In addition to reenactments, we also have film. Civil War battles have been reenacted on-screen in everything from Gettysburg to Gods and Generals to even The Conspirator. And there have been slave auctions on screen, too, such as in Roots in 1977 (small screen, granted, but still film).

Perhaps one of the big questions or concerns with reenactments of slave auctions in particular is authenticity. When it comes to recreating battlefields, Horwitz has written about how many reenactors go to great lengths to make things as historically accurate as possible. The question becomes: can you do that – and is it appropriate to do that – when the event being recreated is a slave auction? Slavery was brutal, and slave auctions a particular brand of that brutality.

But if we strip away the accuracy, does that leave us with a mockery? I thought the slave auction was largely well done last Saturday, although I would argue that there would be less overt resistance from most slaves up for auction (check out Walter Johnson’s Soul by Soul for a really good historical analysis of the antebellum slave market). At the same time, if the reenactors went for quiet resistance, what message does that send to a modern audience who lacks the nuanced understanding of what resistance might entail? Would such a scenario lend to the development of a sense that “well, slavery wasn’t all that bad; the slaves didn’t seem to mind being sold” mentality? That would be problematic, to say the least.

My sense and position is that there are many practical concerns that affect how slave auctions can be reenacted. You lose much of the authenticity in trying to drive the point home to lay audiences who may have little to no understanding of the realities of slavery. But what are the alternatives? Film may present a good venue for portraying slavery more realistically.

The bottom line for me is that I’m not so sure it’s a good thing that our primary recreations of the Civil War play out on battlefields and focus on guns and fighting. I worry about what happens if we write the realities of slavery – and its role in the Civil War – out of history.

I was particularly struck by a comment made by Angela deSilva, the professor who organized the event. During the forum, she mentioned that not long ago she had an African American student who did not want to be there because her mother and told her that there had been no such thing as slavery.  In a similar vein, at the AHA screening of The Conspirator earlier this month, several attendees commented that they found it problematic that slavery seemed entirely written out of the movie. No mentions of it, no nods to it at all.

The slave auction last week was imperfect in its execution, but I think it drew important attention to an issue that seems to be getting buried in the politics of popular culture. We’re about to embark on a four-year commemoration of one of the most popular events in American history: sometimes it seems that everyone’s a Civil War armchair historian.

As we spend these four years remembering our past, where will slavery fit in to the narrative – and what will the placement of slavery in that narrative tell us about modern America?

The Conspirator’s Problem

Mary Surratt (Robin Wright) led from her prison cellOn the evening of Day 3 of the American Historical Association’s Annual Meeting in Boston last week, the AHA pulled a first and offered a screening of a not-yet-released film. I’m a film/movie buff, so it wasn’t too difficult for a couple of grad school friends to convince me to sign up to see The Conspirator, a forthcoming film from the American Film Company.

As of Thursday of the conference, all I knew was that it had something to do with the Lincoln assassination. This is rare for me, the person who usually has a long list of movies-to-see-in-theatre. I like trailers and I like to read synopses. I pore over Entertainment Weekly’s annual summer and winter movie lists. In short: I like movies.

And of course, I’m a huge fan of women’s history. So when I found out at the conference that The Conspirator was ostensibly about Mary Surratt, the lone woman implicated in the plot to assassinate Lincoln (and the first woman to receive the death penalty from the U.S. government – sorry if that’s a plot spoiler) – well, I was pretty excited.

The film had an all-star cast: Robin Wright, Kevin Kline, James McAvoy, and others. Robert Redford directs it.

The promotional postcard included a partial image of Surratt. I presumed, then, that if this were a movie about Mary Surratt, it would be a movie about Mary Surratt.

This, however, is wrong.

The Conspirator is technically a film about Surratt, but it is more accurately a film about Surratt’s lawyer, Frederick A. Aiken. I should have known something was not right when I saw James McAvoy’s name listed first among the starring cast. I really should have known when the film opened with a battlefield scene between two wounded male soldiers.

I will grant that The Conspirator is an enjoyable movie. It would be more enjoyable, from my point of view, if Surratt were the actual subject of the film, rather than serving as an object within Aiken’s perspective. It is a historically accurate film (although I’d venture some possible caveats on some scenes involving male-female interaction). It is a film that most Civil War buffs will admire enormously because it includes every important Civil War trope and cliché (aside, ironically, from slavery – although that’s not exactly present in every Civil War film anyway).

The problem with The Conspirator is that we, as viewers, are given a woman’s story cast through a man’s eyes and experience. It’s as if Surratt herself was deemed somehow not good enough to tell her own story. Focusing on Aiken and on men in general averts our gaze from Surratt. By the end of the film, we come no closer to understanding why Surratt was so threatening. The Conspirator is a movie about men when it should be a movie about women.

I find this troubling and frustrating. It’s also nothing new. Last August, Entertainment Weekly author Mark Harris examined what’s known as the “Bechdel Test” – a baseline for establishing women’s roles in movies. Not only is the Bechdel Test a poor standard, Harris notes, but more than that he argues that if it had been applied to 2009’s best picture nominees for the Oscars, 50% of the nominees would have had problems.  (While you’re at it, go check out Why Family Films are So Sexist and learn about how there aren’t enough women working as directors or writers or any other number of behind-the-scenes roles in Hollywood).

During the film, I scribbled madly all over the brief survey we were given to hand back in. After the film, we got to chat with a panel of several of the historians who consulted on the project (including Kate Clifford Larson, who authored a book on Surratt), as well as one producer and screenwriter Jim Solomon.

The discussion was enlightening, particularly because Solomon was very straightforward in explaining that he’d simply come at this story through the lawyer because that was who interested him and who he’d identified with when he’d started the project in his late 20s. As a writer, I understand this. He also later explained that with Aiken, he could see the character development arc – which he never quite found with Surratt.

That explanation aside, Solomon also noted (when asked) that no one in the production company, nor the consultants, had ever questioned why the story of Surratt was framed by Aiken. His explanation was that they simply must have found it to be an engaging story (or they wouldn’t have made it).

This is what bothers me most, I think. As an author, I get Solomon’s own explanation. I dislike it, but I understand where he’s coming from. (Personally, I think saying you can’t find Surratt’s arc is a bit of a cop-out, but I’ll give Solomon the benefit of the doubt: he was an amazingly nice and patient man who put up with me and my colleagues and our questions quite well.)

I’m more bothered, then, by the fact that none of the movie makers – and none of the historians –ever found it worthwhile to question why you would tell a woman’s story through a man’s eyes. I should not be surprised – and to some degree, I’m not – but I’m very incensed by the oversight. This might have been a very intriguing, very unique approach to the Civil War. It’s not often we get female-centric Civil War films – but that doesn’t mean such films do poorly (Gone with the Wind, anyone?)

Ironically, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Robert Redford had this to say:

“When I first read the script, I was taken aback by the fact that the Lincoln assassination was only a catalyst for this whole other story,” says Redford. “And it’s a story that no one has really told before.”

Ironic, because in the end they missed the story anyway: Surratt’s account still waits to be told on the silver screen the way it should. So sure, go see The Conspirator when it comes out. I wish it well, and I wish the American Film Company well.

But if they ever want to write a real movie about interesting women in American history, they should think about giving me a call. I’ve got a whole list we could work with – and I could even help them figure out how to tell these stories without relying on the crutch of men.

Off to Massachusetts

A few years ago, the musical production of Little Women included a fun little song called “Off to Massachusetts,” and I have no problem confessing that this is what I’m listening to at the moment as I prep for the AHA Annual Meeting in Boston this week. It’s lighthearted and fun, and that’s precisely how I expect my time in Boston to be.

I guess “lighthearted” and “fun” aren’t always the words most associated with the AHA Annual Meeting. After all, it’s the place where people expect to see harried job candidates stressing over interviews and their future, and stressed-out search committees who spend most of their time holed up conducting interviews. There are always exceptions to this rule, though, and of course I’ll be one of them.

I’m excited about AHA for a number of reasons, but mostly because it’s an excuse to visit Boston and because I‘ll be presenting from part of my dissertation this Saturday (Saturday, 11:30 am, Room 102 of Hynes Convention Center). Then there’s the fact that the conference venue appears to be in a really great location (close to good restaurants, or at least lots of clam chowder!) and the presence of some great people I know but don’t often get to see.

In my book, starting off 2011 with a trip to Boston is a sign that things are going to be good this year. I love to travel and see things. Although I’ve been to Boston twice since spring 2009 (not counting this trip), this trip will give me the chance to check out some new areas and things to see. I’m still working out details, but I’m planning a list of “Boston 5″ – five activities that I’ll do for fun while I’m there. Ideas include:

1. The Mapparium at the Mary Baker Eddy Library
2. A tour at the Boston Public Library (and possibly high tea…)
3.  The Museum of Fine Arts
4. Skywalk Observatory
5. Cupcakes!

I’d add “eating clam chowder” to that list, but that’s frankly a given in Boston in January.

If you’ll be at AHA, please feel free to say hi if you see me breeze by. I’ll be the one having far too much fun.