The Birth of the Past

Introduction: The Past Defined

1 Introduction The Past Defined We need to put aside all of the usual ideas about what history is or ought to be and take a good close look instead at the one thing that underlies all forms of history. That one thing is the distinction between past and present. This is so elementary, so necessary for the very possibility of thinking about the past at all, that it may be considered the founding principle of history. —Constantin Fasolt, The Limits of History T he title of this book invites reflection, for it posits the birth of something forever and always dead. To explain away this paradox, one might presume I am referring to the birth of what will become the past; but if I were, I would have entitled the book “The Birth of the Present”—a questionable project for a historian. One might also presume that I mean “the birth of our idea of the past,” a notion expressed more gracefully by omitting the first prepositional phrase. But “the birth of our idea of the past” is not quite the same thing as “the birth of the past,” for the former expression assumes the existence of a past about which we have a particular idea, whereas the latter expression refers to the birth of that assumption itself. We take the existence of “the past” for granted as a commonsense notion, yet I will argue that this notion has a history that began only fairly recently, during the Renaissance, and did not culminate until the eighteenth century, after which it acquired its commonsense status. Because this argument is almost entirely counterintuitive, flying in the face of a host of unquestioned assumptions, let me lay it out logically (if a bit laboriously) in order to clarify exactly what I am claiming and why I am claiming it. 2 Introduction First, in our daily lives we take the past for granted as being, quite simply, the time before the present. As such, it is less an object of thought than a mundane reality reinforced by the tenses of everyday language and by the passage of time, as one moment of awareness gives way to the next, forming memories. Second, when we do bother to focus on the past as an object of thought—a task we have for the most part relegated to historians—we tend to conflate this mundane notion with another: that the past is not simply prior to the present but different from it. The perception of difference reflects an awareness that each historical entity exists in its own distinctive context, that (for example) Shakespeare ’s world—as reflected in its language, customs, dress, and whatnot—differs from our own. Following Constantin Fasolt’s lead, I will declare this awareness of the difference between past and present “the founding principle of history” (4). (Those familiar with the language of postmodern literary criticism should note that the “perception of difference” about which I am writing has nothing in common with the Derridean notion of différance, a neologism that denotes the indeterminate status of the meaning conveyed by words and signs.) Third, despite our tendency to conflate the past as a time prior to the present with the past as a time different from the present, the two ideas are distinct. In and of itself, priority in time does not entail difference. Because this principle grounds my entire argument, let me pause here to illustrate it briefly. Above I described the passage of time as “one moment of awareness giv[ing] way to the next.” Viewed from this basic existential perspective, the time prior to the present constitutes an undifferentiated expanse, all of which is equally “not present.” Even if we were to divide it into years arranged chronologically, it would still remain essentially undifferentiated. An excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle epitomizes this homogeneous quality: 803 In this year Hygebald, bishop of Lindisfarne, passed away on 24 June; and Egbert was consecrated in his place on 11 June [following]. And archbishop Æthelheard passed away in Kent, and Wulfred was consecrated archbishop. 804 In this year archbishop Wulfred received the pallium. 805 In this year king Cuthred passed away in Kent, and abbess Ceolburh and Heardberht. 806 In this year there was an eclipse of the moon on 1 September. And Eardwulf, king of Northumbria, was driven from his kingdom, and Eanberht, bishop Hexham, passed away. . . . The...