Thanks Dan, an excellent article...again! My mind immediately went to the "rebirth" in authoritarian regimes across the world and the collective effort needed to vanquish fascism and its derivatives then... now generations ago. How does a new generation find its way through such a new battle, and where does leadership spring from when there is no memory to drive them?
I enjoyed this post. As an old, it brought back memories of when I was a child, and the old people I knew then: at Remembrance Day ceremonies in elementary school, seeing old veterans of the First World War, and even a few very old men who had served in the Boer War (which our parents were able to explain to us). For my own children the very old soldiers they met served in the Second World War, preserving the memory at least for a while...
I've always thought of myself as a Martian. Now, after reading this excellent essay, I know that I am.
Unlike most people, evidently, I feel more at home in the past than in the present. To some extent, that's because my past is that of my parents and grandparents. I don't much care about the people on lower branches of the family tree, because they're just names and dates. Besides, I suspect that most of them wouldn't have liked or even approved of me. But there's something else that binds me emotionally to the times of my parents and grandparents (all long gone), and it's something that would have been impossible before the early twentieth century. I'm referring to movies.
As a child, I liked to watch the "late movie" on TV every night (long before the rise of late-night talk shows). I was just as familiar with Greta Garbo and Norma Shearer or with Jimmy Stewart and Fred Astaire, as I was with the stars of my own time. And not only with their images—talk about ghosts—but also with the world that produced them and their images: patterns of speech and music, moral and social ideals, material culture and so forth. It was as if my own life hadn’t begun a few years earlier but a few decades earlier.
And that remains true for me now just as it was seventy years ago, because I never rebelled to the extent that most adolescents rebel. In some ways, of course, the world really is much better now than it once was because enough people had the courage to reject at least a few mistakes of the past. I knew that as a gay man growing up without feeling the need to hide that fact of my life. I knew that even earlier as I watched Martin Luther King speaking at the Lincoln Memorial, and realized in tears that a profound change was taking place—a necessary and good one. But I understood his words as a reaffirmation of American idealism, not a rejection of it (let alone of Western civilization). It never occurred to me that I’d live to see a new generation that would repudiate his dream and demand a return to some form of segregation not only by race but by countless markers of identity and identity politics. I became an academic but also, by doing so, an increasingly alienated witness to the destruction of a worldview that I valued. On the whole, I found that the university, as an institution, had succumbed to both moral and intellectual bankruptcy. In some ways, after all, the world really was better than it is now.
If you live long enough, I suppose, you come to see yourself as a relic of the past. I must confess that, like Dorothy in Oz (the topic of my first book), I yearn to go home again. Home isn’t a place but a time or some state beyond time. I’m not ready to die just yet, but I probably will be.
I am in my seventies and have always found history and the telling of "yesterday" to be interesting. I am - somewhat - comfortable with some of our technology [I use this medium, of course] but I find that the times of my childhood, while not glorious at all, certainly had merit. And, of course, the times of my grandparents also were meritorious, as were they.
As I age, I consider what my grandchildren will think of things. I am not worried about them remembering me but, rather, will they have any real knowledge of from where they come as a society and as a culture. My conclusion is that my children, their parents, have that job and, just as did my wife and I, will find it a chore for which they / we are / were terrifically imperfect vessels to impart that knowledge.
Interesting thesis that within three generations memory turns to history. I'm working on a project involving seven generations of two families and trying to discern whether this mid-point of three generations is a cohort effect (specific to a particular time period) or whether it is an effect of memory becoming history. You've given me a lot more to consider now about how long collective memory lives. In one family (my own) the immigrants seven generations ago forgot the past as quickly as possible (in two generations) whereas in the other family which is Native American, the collective memory remains vibrant seven generations later. Fascinating question to contemplate. Thanks!
Good article. Its not a coincidence that the expression 'rags to riches to rags in three generations' also uses the three generation rule, it seems that's what it takes for knowledge continuity to be severed.
I saw trailers for Greyhound, never got to see it. but wanted to, I was a U Boat fanatic as a teen, wanted to see the War of the Atlantic portrayed from the escort side.
The one and only quibble I have of Dan’s wonderful piece is that Greyhound portrays a corvette commander, not a destroyer. It made me realize that if given the choice I’d have wanted to be on the destroyer. Any day!
Yeah I think it was a corvette. Which is more meaningful, as they were purpose built for the convoy routes, and Canada had a lot of them. But agree, destroyers were larger and surely more stable in heavy seas. When I was a teenager I read an account of U boat life called Iron Coffins, I must have read and re-read it twenty times.
I’ve been in a WW II era submarine. And that is something I definitely would not have wanted to do. It must have been terrifying and required such a strong psyche of the sailors. Have you read The Mathews Men by William Geroux?
No I have not read that. I would love to go inside one, I am sure it is very tight. I consider myself extremely fortunate in that I accidently ran into/visited U534 which was located in Birkenhead Docks (Liverpool UK) in about 2003. I was in Liverpool on business for a few months and on the weekends would drive around, and found it just sitting in a parking lot. It had been raised a few years prior near Denmark, and it was the coolest thing. They later cut it up and turned into an attraction, but I saw it rusted in one piece, totally impressive, a type IX. There are only maybe three U boats that exist, I am lucky to have been right up close to one. There is one in Chicago and one in Germany, and U534 now cut up in Liverpool. But that is it, I think.
Wonderful article, and I back it up as accurate to the word. I'm from nearer the end of the Boom and that means I didn't get to know those WW1 grandparents. What I did know is that THEY were the "Greatest Generation", I mean, of course, obviously. Tom Brokaw was the first victim of having lost the meaning of the further past, if he thought those kids of WW1 (my family had a baby boom from 1917-1920) were The Greatest.
Yes, they had to go through their teens in a Depression, then fight this awful war - and then they were home-free into the exploding economy of the 50s to raise their kids. Their parents had to fight a war that was worse, for the soldiers, in those stinking diseased trenches with little medicine. (WW2 worse for civilians in Europe, the bombing...) Then there was the massive plague that preferred to kill young people over old. Then the WW1 people had to raise their children, with no work. (And no GI bill, back to the coal mines, wretches...) Then, when they managed that, the government came up and said "Hey, now give us your children, we want to have another war." No question they had it worse.
We just forgot. Quickly.
I've been reading "Charlie's War", a graphic-novel series from the 80s that tours poor Charlie, like a WW1 Forrest Gump, through every terrible battle. All should also see "They Shall Not Grow Old", with brilliantly restored footage.
I got on this historical interest because of my own grandmother's diaries, found at the bottom of the storage unit after Dad died. 110 years old, perfect condition. I'm scanning them:
It's the way she keeps losing friends, losing a boyfriend, other nurses losing their fiances, brothers - and it's just the stiff-upper-lip, back to work. On another planet from today.
The very important thing about this phenomenon is the repeating of history by those who forget it. I would have sworn on a stack of history books that nobody in America, who went through Vietnam at the bottom of the military, could possibly repeat its mistakes when they were the Generals.
And they repeated them all, worse. And continued to do so, for so many years. It's still just amazing how badly they did their jobs, for most of a career(!)
I think there is also a phenomenon of being too close to what will become history for many people to care and suspect you have identified the sweet spot. I recall being at an airshow in the late 60s or early 70s with my father, a professional pilot and WW II veteran of the RCAF. Having spent thousands of hours flying them during the war, he wanted to climb up on the wing of a Harvard that was on static display, and look in the cockpit. The noticeably younger guy flying the airplane wouldn't let him. Of course, RCAF veterans were a dime a dozen at the time.
The phenomenon continued into the 80s. As an Officer with the Air Cadet program I attended more than a few commemorations, like Battle of Britain parades, that had actual veterans of the battle in attendance (as active participants), but not a single member of the public. (I met more than a few RAF and RCAF fighter pilots who have now made the leap from person to obscure historical figure.) It made me quite cynical about the enthusiasm for the "Greatest Generation" that came along fifteen years later, and the resulting massive increase in attendance at Remembrance Day ceremonies, when it was far too late for many of them to know about.
That is cool; a son sired at 63, the son sired a grandson at 68. Maybe not so cool for the wives, raising kids when Dad died with the kids 7 and 9 respectively.
Historian James Burke did write about the continuity of memory through family, now that you remind me of it. I forget where he wrote, but something about hearing stories from his grandfather that were 80 years old, some 60 years ago (Burke was in his mid-60s when he wrote it, 87 now), and that the grandfather could impart only second-hand memories from *his* grandfather, that dated to the time of Napoleon.
My grandfather was not just in WW1, but the Boer War when he was 16, in 1902. I'll be able to pass on only second-hand memories of that, hopefully for a decade or two yet.
Yes, Karl, the current indifference or even hostility to cultural continuity is a huge problem. No community can endure without that. Culture is what makes humans so adaptable to changing environments and circumstances. Otherwise, we'd have to reinvent the wheel in every generation--or every three generations.
Changing technologies do require continual adaptation, it's true, but other changes require sober choices as well. Not every change, after all, reflects the wisdom of ads and commercials: "new and improved." Not every utopian proposal for the "transformation" of society, let alone the inevitable series of unintended consequences, is morally desirable or even rational. I think that many people, especially the most influential ones, see society as nothing more than a colossal experiment. Every society is an experiment, of course, and history is littered with the failures. But society is also the repository of collective wisdom, earned by hard experience, and not a toy that we can discard easily.
I do care about being remembered, if not by name then for some anonymous contribution to future generations. Though mindful of Shelley's famous poem about Ozymandias and the illusion of permanence, I'd still like to think that some stranger in the remote future, some archaeologist or historian, might read my letters, books, memoirs (even if my name were lost) in order to learn about what it was like to be alive at this particular time and place. Otherwise, what's the point of it all?
I think the will be a few reasons why this works as you describe. One might be that grandparents are often people we meet and learn are important to our parents so their history is real and important. This will happen a lot less with great grandparents.
Another interesting phenomenon is creation of historical drama or use of historical context. If you look at the age of people making shows they clearly draw from their formative years - look at the soundtracks or just the effort to do period pieces such as life on mars or a show like Billy Elliot. When they get the opportunity people love to use the events and soundtrack from their youth.
Very interesting. But one thing I have noticed since the centennial of the start of the Great War was the number of movies made about the Great War when all of the vets have presumably passed. They Shall Not Grow Old, 1917 and All Quiet on the Western Front are a few that spring immediately to mind. Also, Dunkirk was popular when it came out a few years ago.
Interesting thoughts. Reminds me of a npr article I heard perhaps 5 years ago about an Icelandic artist who explored the concept of living history or collective history. For example my living history goes back to the oldest person I knew when I was little my great grandfather who was born in at the turn of the last century. I knew someone who had lived and experienced the early 20th century. Now on the other end of the spectrum my son born in 2016 say theoretically has children in 2050 my grandchildren could feasibly live well into the 22nd century. The living memory of my life extends from early 1900 to mid 2100. This concept is really interesting to me. And makes me think that listening to our elders stories is very important.
Last year I was able to attend the rededication of the Memorial Library at the King Edward School in Stratford upon Avon. I went with my 1st cousin twice removed who likes to tell people that he had 2 uncles who fought in the Boer War. They don't believe him, but it's true. His father was youngest in the family and my great grandmother and the two brothers who fought in the Boer War were some of the oldest. The rededication service was more of an institutional one rather than a personal one as all of the Old Boys from the school who fought in WW1 have long since passed away.
Excellent article, but it made me terribly sad. My mother and father were part of the Greatest Generation, and my father a WWII veteran. Grandparents all born in the 1890s. I’m the tail end of the Boomers (my siblings being closer to the front end). It’s hard to realize the defining events of the generation before me, and soon my generation, have little meaning to the generation after my children. Sobering.
For my late mother, who was born in 1907, the Great Depression seemed to be the defining event that deeply influenced her decisions, actions, and lifestyle choices for the remainder of her life. She was very frugal and never wasted or threw away anything that might find some future use during another financial crisis.
Thanks Dan, an excellent article...again! My mind immediately went to the "rebirth" in authoritarian regimes across the world and the collective effort needed to vanquish fascism and its derivatives then... now generations ago. How does a new generation find its way through such a new battle, and where does leadership spring from when there is no memory to drive them?
My thoughts as well.
I enjoyed this post. As an old, it brought back memories of when I was a child, and the old people I knew then: at Remembrance Day ceremonies in elementary school, seeing old veterans of the First World War, and even a few very old men who had served in the Boer War (which our parents were able to explain to us). For my own children the very old soldiers they met served in the Second World War, preserving the memory at least for a while...
I've always thought of myself as a Martian. Now, after reading this excellent essay, I know that I am.
Unlike most people, evidently, I feel more at home in the past than in the present. To some extent, that's because my past is that of my parents and grandparents. I don't much care about the people on lower branches of the family tree, because they're just names and dates. Besides, I suspect that most of them wouldn't have liked or even approved of me. But there's something else that binds me emotionally to the times of my parents and grandparents (all long gone), and it's something that would have been impossible before the early twentieth century. I'm referring to movies.
As a child, I liked to watch the "late movie" on TV every night (long before the rise of late-night talk shows). I was just as familiar with Greta Garbo and Norma Shearer or with Jimmy Stewart and Fred Astaire, as I was with the stars of my own time. And not only with their images—talk about ghosts—but also with the world that produced them and their images: patterns of speech and music, moral and social ideals, material culture and so forth. It was as if my own life hadn’t begun a few years earlier but a few decades earlier.
And that remains true for me now just as it was seventy years ago, because I never rebelled to the extent that most adolescents rebel. In some ways, of course, the world really is much better now than it once was because enough people had the courage to reject at least a few mistakes of the past. I knew that as a gay man growing up without feeling the need to hide that fact of my life. I knew that even earlier as I watched Martin Luther King speaking at the Lincoln Memorial, and realized in tears that a profound change was taking place—a necessary and good one. But I understood his words as a reaffirmation of American idealism, not a rejection of it (let alone of Western civilization). It never occurred to me that I’d live to see a new generation that would repudiate his dream and demand a return to some form of segregation not only by race but by countless markers of identity and identity politics. I became an academic but also, by doing so, an increasingly alienated witness to the destruction of a worldview that I valued. On the whole, I found that the university, as an institution, had succumbed to both moral and intellectual bankruptcy. In some ways, after all, the world really was better than it is now.
If you live long enough, I suppose, you come to see yourself as a relic of the past. I must confess that, like Dorothy in Oz (the topic of my first book), I yearn to go home again. Home isn’t a place but a time or some state beyond time. I’m not ready to die just yet, but I probably will be.
Well said, Sir!
I am in my seventies and have always found history and the telling of "yesterday" to be interesting. I am - somewhat - comfortable with some of our technology [I use this medium, of course] but I find that the times of my childhood, while not glorious at all, certainly had merit. And, of course, the times of my grandparents also were meritorious, as were they.
As I age, I consider what my grandchildren will think of things. I am not worried about them remembering me but, rather, will they have any real knowledge of from where they come as a society and as a culture. My conclusion is that my children, their parents, have that job and, just as did my wife and I, will find it a chore for which they / we are / were terrifically imperfect vessels to impart that knowledge.
Interesting thesis that within three generations memory turns to history. I'm working on a project involving seven generations of two families and trying to discern whether this mid-point of three generations is a cohort effect (specific to a particular time period) or whether it is an effect of memory becoming history. You've given me a lot more to consider now about how long collective memory lives. In one family (my own) the immigrants seven generations ago forgot the past as quickly as possible (in two generations) whereas in the other family which is Native American, the collective memory remains vibrant seven generations later. Fascinating question to contemplate. Thanks!
Good article. Its not a coincidence that the expression 'rags to riches to rags in three generations' also uses the three generation rule, it seems that's what it takes for knowledge continuity to be severed.
I saw trailers for Greyhound, never got to see it. but wanted to, I was a U Boat fanatic as a teen, wanted to see the War of the Atlantic portrayed from the escort side.
The one and only quibble I have of Dan’s wonderful piece is that Greyhound portrays a corvette commander, not a destroyer. It made me realize that if given the choice I’d have wanted to be on the destroyer. Any day!
Yeah I think it was a corvette. Which is more meaningful, as they were purpose built for the convoy routes, and Canada had a lot of them. But agree, destroyers were larger and surely more stable in heavy seas. When I was a teenager I read an account of U boat life called Iron Coffins, I must have read and re-read it twenty times.
It was a destroyer in C.S. Forester's book, "The Good Shepherd," the novel from which the movie "Greyhound" is drawn from.
OK good to know, thanks.
I’ve been in a WW II era submarine. And that is something I definitely would not have wanted to do. It must have been terrifying and required such a strong psyche of the sailors. Have you read The Mathews Men by William Geroux?
No I have not read that. I would love to go inside one, I am sure it is very tight. I consider myself extremely fortunate in that I accidently ran into/visited U534 which was located in Birkenhead Docks (Liverpool UK) in about 2003. I was in Liverpool on business for a few months and on the weekends would drive around, and found it just sitting in a parking lot. It had been raised a few years prior near Denmark, and it was the coolest thing. They later cut it up and turned into an attraction, but I saw it rusted in one piece, totally impressive, a type IX. There are only maybe three U boats that exist, I am lucky to have been right up close to one. There is one in Chicago and one in Germany, and U534 now cut up in Liverpool. But that is it, I think.
Wonderful article, and I back it up as accurate to the word. I'm from nearer the end of the Boom and that means I didn't get to know those WW1 grandparents. What I did know is that THEY were the "Greatest Generation", I mean, of course, obviously. Tom Brokaw was the first victim of having lost the meaning of the further past, if he thought those kids of WW1 (my family had a baby boom from 1917-1920) were The Greatest.
Yes, they had to go through their teens in a Depression, then fight this awful war - and then they were home-free into the exploding economy of the 50s to raise their kids. Their parents had to fight a war that was worse, for the soldiers, in those stinking diseased trenches with little medicine. (WW2 worse for civilians in Europe, the bombing...) Then there was the massive plague that preferred to kill young people over old. Then the WW1 people had to raise their children, with no work. (And no GI bill, back to the coal mines, wretches...) Then, when they managed that, the government came up and said "Hey, now give us your children, we want to have another war." No question they had it worse.
We just forgot. Quickly.
I've been reading "Charlie's War", a graphic-novel series from the 80s that tours poor Charlie, like a WW1 Forrest Gump, through every terrible battle. All should also see "They Shall Not Grow Old", with brilliantly restored footage.
I got on this historical interest because of my own grandmother's diaries, found at the bottom of the storage unit after Dad died. 110 years old, perfect condition. I'm scanning them:
http://brander.ca/EEC/
It's the way she keeps losing friends, losing a boyfriend, other nurses losing their fiances, brothers - and it's just the stiff-upper-lip, back to work. On another planet from today.
The very important thing about this phenomenon is the repeating of history by those who forget it. I would have sworn on a stack of history books that nobody in America, who went through Vietnam at the bottom of the military, could possibly repeat its mistakes when they were the Generals.
And they repeated them all, worse. And continued to do so, for so many years. It's still just amazing how badly they did their jobs, for most of a career(!)
They shoulda learned from history.
I think there is also a phenomenon of being too close to what will become history for many people to care and suspect you have identified the sweet spot. I recall being at an airshow in the late 60s or early 70s with my father, a professional pilot and WW II veteran of the RCAF. Having spent thousands of hours flying them during the war, he wanted to climb up on the wing of a Harvard that was on static display, and look in the cockpit. The noticeably younger guy flying the airplane wouldn't let him. Of course, RCAF veterans were a dime a dozen at the time.
The phenomenon continued into the 80s. As an Officer with the Air Cadet program I attended more than a few commemorations, like Battle of Britain parades, that had actual veterans of the battle in attendance (as active participants), but not a single member of the public. (I met more than a few RAF and RCAF fighter pilots who have now made the leap from person to obscure historical figure.) It made me quite cynical about the enthusiasm for the "Greatest Generation" that came along fifteen years later, and the resulting massive increase in attendance at Remembrance Day ceremonies, when it was far too late for many of them to know about.
Living memory for some families may extend further back than for others: President John Tyler, born 1790, has a living grandson:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harrison_Ruffin_Tyler
That is cool; a son sired at 63, the son sired a grandson at 68. Maybe not so cool for the wives, raising kids when Dad died with the kids 7 and 9 respectively.
Historian James Burke did write about the continuity of memory through family, now that you remind me of it. I forget where he wrote, but something about hearing stories from his grandfather that were 80 years old, some 60 years ago (Burke was in his mid-60s when he wrote it, 87 now), and that the grandfather could impart only second-hand memories from *his* grandfather, that dated to the time of Napoleon.
My grandfather was not just in WW1, but the Boer War when he was 16, in 1902. I'll be able to pass on only second-hand memories of that, hopefully for a decade or two yet.
Yes, Karl, the current indifference or even hostility to cultural continuity is a huge problem. No community can endure without that. Culture is what makes humans so adaptable to changing environments and circumstances. Otherwise, we'd have to reinvent the wheel in every generation--or every three generations.
Changing technologies do require continual adaptation, it's true, but other changes require sober choices as well. Not every change, after all, reflects the wisdom of ads and commercials: "new and improved." Not every utopian proposal for the "transformation" of society, let alone the inevitable series of unintended consequences, is morally desirable or even rational. I think that many people, especially the most influential ones, see society as nothing more than a colossal experiment. Every society is an experiment, of course, and history is littered with the failures. But society is also the repository of collective wisdom, earned by hard experience, and not a toy that we can discard easily.
I do care about being remembered, if not by name then for some anonymous contribution to future generations. Though mindful of Shelley's famous poem about Ozymandias and the illusion of permanence, I'd still like to think that some stranger in the remote future, some archaeologist or historian, might read my letters, books, memoirs (even if my name were lost) in order to learn about what it was like to be alive at this particular time and place. Otherwise, what's the point of it all?
I think the will be a few reasons why this works as you describe. One might be that grandparents are often people we meet and learn are important to our parents so their history is real and important. This will happen a lot less with great grandparents.
Another interesting phenomenon is creation of historical drama or use of historical context. If you look at the age of people making shows they clearly draw from their formative years - look at the soundtracks or just the effort to do period pieces such as life on mars or a show like Billy Elliot. When they get the opportunity people love to use the events and soundtrack from their youth.
Very interesting. But one thing I have noticed since the centennial of the start of the Great War was the number of movies made about the Great War when all of the vets have presumably passed. They Shall Not Grow Old, 1917 and All Quiet on the Western Front are a few that spring immediately to mind. Also, Dunkirk was popular when it came out a few years ago.
The British have a different relationship with the two World Wars.
The Great War cost Britain a generation.
The war that followed cost them the Empire.
Great piece! Thanks for the food for thought!
Interesting thoughts. Reminds me of a npr article I heard perhaps 5 years ago about an Icelandic artist who explored the concept of living history or collective history. For example my living history goes back to the oldest person I knew when I was little my great grandfather who was born in at the turn of the last century. I knew someone who had lived and experienced the early 20th century. Now on the other end of the spectrum my son born in 2016 say theoretically has children in 2050 my grandchildren could feasibly live well into the 22nd century. The living memory of my life extends from early 1900 to mid 2100. This concept is really interesting to me. And makes me think that listening to our elders stories is very important.
Last year I was able to attend the rededication of the Memorial Library at the King Edward School in Stratford upon Avon. I went with my 1st cousin twice removed who likes to tell people that he had 2 uncles who fought in the Boer War. They don't believe him, but it's true. His father was youngest in the family and my great grandmother and the two brothers who fought in the Boer War were some of the oldest. The rededication service was more of an institutional one rather than a personal one as all of the Old Boys from the school who fought in WW1 have long since passed away.
Excellent article, but it made me terribly sad. My mother and father were part of the Greatest Generation, and my father a WWII veteran. Grandparents all born in the 1890s. I’m the tail end of the Boomers (my siblings being closer to the front end). It’s hard to realize the defining events of the generation before me, and soon my generation, have little meaning to the generation after my children. Sobering.
For my late mother, who was born in 1907, the Great Depression seemed to be the defining event that deeply influenced her decisions, actions, and lifestyle choices for the remainder of her life. She was very frugal and never wasted or threw away anything that might find some future use during another financial crisis.