Welcome to part 2 of my mini-series on choosing textbook resources for the history classroom. You can find the main landing page for this blog HERE.
In my last blog I was concerned with asking questions about the structure of narrative in a textbook and what narrative is developed. Today's focus is, in my opinion, just as important: Any good history textbook needs to acknowledge that that narrative it offers is contested. That is to say, the book needs to inform its readers that it provides ‘a narrative’ and not ‘The Narrative’, even if this is only in passing. This is particularly important if we see the role of a knowledge-rich curriculum as delivering social justice. This point was also made during the WLFS Conference, established to look at the importance of knowledge in the curriculum. From Christine Counsell at the beginning of the day, to Robert Tombs at the end, the point was made that we need to recognise that history is ultimately a matter of debate.
What messages are developed by the textbook?
When choosing textbooks, one of my first key questions is what messages they develop in the narrative, whether these are historically valid. As a sub-question to this, I am generally interested in the underlying themes or messages created and how these might be a help or a hindrance to my students. One again, I have chosen to use Robert Peal’s ‘Knowing History’ sample chapter on Henry VIII to explore these issues further. Below I have tried to outline some of the main narrative messages from this section:
Already you will see that some of these messages are more problematic than others. For instance, the idea that the Catholic church was very powerful during this period is fairly undisputed; the idea that it was wholly corrupt however is a very particular interpretation of the period. Then we have the parts where Peal tries to explain the motives of Henry VIII in breaking from Rome, implying that this was a deeply cynical move connected with power and wealth: another debated point. Most troubling is the implication that ordinary people (when they are mentioned) were effectively duped into superstitious practices – a line of thought generally out of kilter with recent historiography on the period. For me, the throwaway points about people’s beliefs, corrupt churches, irrational Catholicism, or the Scots being defeated by a woman, actually communicate a worrying lack of respect for the period and the people who inhabited it. These smaller messages build into a set of broader messages, which I find equally problematic:
Of course, all history textbooks need to accept some degree of simplification. After all, they are not degree-level text. However, I think it is worth comparing the approach taken in the “Changing Minds” book from Longman (originally published in 1997 but still very much in print). The book begins its chapter on Henry VIII with the following “Some say that Henry only made the break with Rome because the Pope would not let him have a divorce…” (p.49) From the outset it is clear that the issue is contentious. Just like Peal, the Longman book goes on to outline the issue of inheritance, however it also posits a number of other viable theories for why Henry might have wanted to break with Rome. Pupils are then asked to think through why Henry made the break and, ultimately whether or not he might be considered a Protestant. I have included a summary of messages from the Longman book below for reference:
Does the narrative acknowledge its contested nature? The second major question I want to deal with in this blog is whether or not a textbook acknowledge the contested nature of its narrative and accepts that it is a narrative and not ‘The Narrative’. When looking at the 'Knowing History' series through this lens, I feel there is a lack of recognition of important disciplinary point. The chapters themselves are presented as simple, historicist accounts of past events. There is no real sense in the book that there might be any disagreement over the narrative, and students are certainly not asked to question it. In many ways, I hear echoes of the controversial declaration from Florida’s 2006 Education Bill, which stated that “history shall be viewed as factual, not as constructed, shall be viewed as knowable, teachable, and testable.” (Florida State Legislature, 2006). Of course, we might argue that a good history teacher could fill these gaps, however, the book does not contain enough contextual detail for teachers to introduce the idea of a contested narrative themselves as there is no conflicting or contradictory information to work with. To take a couple of examples: the chapter on the Elizabethan Golden Age begins by taking this term at face value: “Due to Elizabeth I’s wise decision making, England enjoyed an unprecedented period of peace and stability during her reign” (p.34). At no point in the chapter is the term itself questioned, or at least contextualised. I am all for author voice, but not in isolation from the historical debates which surround contested concepts like the ‘Elizabethan Golden Age’. Equally on page 56, Peal declares that “It was clear England’s Commonwealth experiment had failed…” with no sense that this might be a contested point. This in itself creates huge issues for anyone wanting to use the books with non-specialists, or teachers with limited period knowledge who may inadvertently reinforce such points without question. I found only two places where historians were mentioned in the first two sections of the book: one to note that Henry owned a pair of football boots; and another to say that the Vikings discovered America rather than Columbus (the closest to introducing the idea of a debate). Now, I accept that historicism is an historical school in its own right, but the narrative here seems to rest on a somewhat outdated, Protestant-centric, historiographical view of the Reformation. The Catholic Church is referred to as a great, corrupt body, led by greedy and avaricious popes with a taste for womanising. Catholic traditions are dismissed as superstitions, and Martin Luther and John Calvin appear as the rational saviours of ordinary religion. Of course, there is much truth in the corruption of the Catholic Church in the 16th century, but the idea that the whole church was corrupt to the core is very Protestant lens through which to view events. The book gives no hint that this might be the case. Indeed, just shy of a century ago, in 1918, Edward Harvey (1918, p. 322) noted that
The historiography on Luther and his impact is extremely wide ranging, but again, there is no sense of disagreement here. To fail to acknowledge such a point is a major bone of contention for me when considering which books might suit my students, and whether they might help them develop a full understanding of the discipline of history.
Summary I hope I have managed to outline the importance of asking key questions about the nature of the historical narrative developed in textbooks. Crucially, a well-chosen narrative allows students to understand the nature of disciplinary history, whilst also learning detailed substantive content. I hope I have also presented the case for considering the quality of the historical scholarship and research in any textbook to ensure that we maintain a suitable respect for the past when teaching. In my next blog, I intend to get beyond issues of how knowledge is presented and focus more specifically on the precise historical knowledge communicated. This is an area where recent books such as Peal’s make large claims about their superiority, so it will be interesting to see how they stack up against existing offerings. As ever, please feel free to leave comments below or via Twitter @apf102.
2 Comments
Ian Phillips
3/7/2017 09:09:03 am
More a review I fear than a comment
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Ian Phillips
3/7/2017 09:48:03 am
It seems there's a word limit.
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