Imaginative Reconstruction Research Articles

The Historical Imagination of Lucretius

ProfessorParatore, in a book that I suspect is too little known to students of Lucretius, has called the Fifth Book of the De Rerum Natura ‘perhaps the richest in poetic inspiration’ in the poem. No part of his subject, it seems, fired the poet's imagination more; and it is the quality of Lucretius' imagination as it is seen in his account of the early history of mankind that I have chosen to discuss. The role of the imagination in the work of the historian is reviewed by Professor G. R. Elton in his book The Practice of History: ‘The discovery of truth requires not only the equipment already discussed–acquaintance with the available evidence and scholarly assessment of it—but also imaginative reconstruction and interpretation. Evidence is the surviving deposit of an historical event; in order to rediscover the event, the historian must read not only with the analytical eye of the investigator but also with the comprehensive eye of the story-teller. The truth is the product of this double process.’ For a good deal of what he says about the history of early man Lucretius had very little evidence as we account it. He had some previous scholarly literature at his disposal, but most of that was theoretical: neither he nor his sources had access to the archaeological and geological record. Yet in certain parts of his subject, as we shall see, this enforced ignorance did not hamper him as much as might be expected, even in comparison with a modern investigator.

Miniaturization in Eighteenth-Century English Literature

A good many of the prominent tropes of the eighteenth century have a significant relation with physical size. In the great chain of being, for example, gradations are often pictured as extending from smaller to larger. In the imagery of deistic teleology the perception of aptness of physical proportion and appropriateness of size are key routes to the necessary conclusions. In the interplay between urban and rural affinities so frequent in the literature of the period, shock at the city, pleasure in its diversity, frustration at the limitation of the village, or the imaginative reconstruction of the village's communal integrity — all of these involve an explicit concern with size. In a different direction, ideas of the state of nature and the human community take their concrete shape by means of images precisely adjusted in their scale: man alone, the leader and the led, a dozen wits at Will's Coffee House, the audience at Tyburn, "the mob." The Newtonian delights in the literature of the period express themselves in images of cosmic regularity and microscopic intricacy. As the architecture of the eighteenth century enters literature, it tends to picture either Palladian grandeur or "the humble cot." Even in the tendency of the literature to speak of itself, the physical size of its printed format is significant. Joseph Andrews' two volumes duodecimo are "these little volumes." And the Duke of Gloucester, as everybody knows, found Gibbon's Decline and Fall to be "Another damned thick, square book."

Thinking and Sense-Perception in Empedocles: Mysticism or Materialism

There is more evidence for Empedocles than for any early Greek philosopher before Democritus, yet the details of his philosophy remain controversial and often hopelessly obscure. Jaeger called Empedocles a ‘philosophical centaur’, which aptly sums up the seeming disparity between theand theThere is no agreement about the famous simile to illustrate respiration, generally known as the Clepsydra, and the stages and nature of the cosmic cycle continue to be disputed. Perhaps we can never be certain about these aspects of Empedocles' thought, for the evidence fails at every crucial point and the imaginative reconstructions which have to serve are unlikely to win universal acceptance. It may then appear hazardous to discuss the fragments concerned with thinking and sense-perception, for these too are riddled with problems. I do so prompted partly by the timely reprint of J. I. Beare's book,Greek Theories of Elementary Cognition, and also because this feature of Empedocles has been touched on by modern scholars but not studied in any detail. At the same time the significance of theis greatly affected by how we interpret the theory of sense-perception and thinking.

The Skene in Aristophanes

No one can write an adequate commentary on a Greek play, or even edit it adequately, without producing it in his mind; that is to say, he must see in his mind's eye the exact location, movement and gesture of every character at every moment, arid must hear in his mind's ear the exact tone of every word. Admittedly, we do not know so very much about the appearance of the theatre in the fifth century B.C., or about the actors' costumes, or about Greek gestures; even our knowledge of the pronunciation of Greek at the relevant period is imperfect; and our ignorance of delivery and acting styles is total. Therefore, when we produce a play in our imagination we can hardly fail to import much which would be recognized as grossly erroneous if our evidence were suddenly to be increased. Yet, as so often happens in the study of the ancient world, we are confronted with a choice of risks. We can take the risk of an imaginative reconstruction which may be factually wrong but is at least reconcilable with all the evidence we have and is kept reconcilable, by modification, with whatever fresh evidence comes to light from time to time; or, alternatively, we can take the risk of missing the point of what the dramatist is saying and therefore of importing the wrong point. Even if we are not temperamentally disposed (as I am) in favour of the former risk, we are virtually forced to take it when we have committed ourselves to editing a text. The punctuation of a dramatic text is a matter for producers, not grammarians; a comma gives one instruction to the actor, a colon gives a different instruction—and few editors are likely to practise ars nescienti so pertinaciously as to refrain from giving the actors any such instructions at all.

Economic Geography of Canada: With an Introduction of a 68-Region System

THE IRON SNAKE. By Ronald Hardy. London: Collins, 1965. 8*2x5*2 inches; 318 pages; endpaper map, plates. 30s The Iron Snake is about some of the men who built the railway from Mombasa to Lake Victoria between 1895 an^ 1901. The 'writing up' of African history has received great impulse from Mr. Alan Moorehead's books but Mr. Hardy, a novelist, knows less well how to avoid embroidery. Historians will dislike his treatment of evidence, his imaginative reconstructions and his lack of background knowledge?a lack made particularly evident by the errors and omissions of the introductory historical survey. The myth that the coolies were the progenitors of the Asian population of East Africa is repeated. Most African travel literature is rather surprisingly stigmatized as *dull, pompous and arid'. Many readers will be jarred by anti-Asian bias in the book. On the other hand, Mr. Hardy does succeed in highlighting some hitherto unseen facets of the railway story. He debunks Colonel Patterson's reputation as the saviour of the coolies from the Tsavo man-eating lions (though he is often unfair to Patterson). Robert Turk, guide and guard for the engineers emerges, as, more or less, the hero of these pages. Mr. Hardy describes how he persuaded Turk's wife and daughter to lend him this unusual man's diary in return for 200 shillings. It must be a fascinating document and ought to be in an archives collection. The chief engineer, George Whitehouse, Ronald Preston and his wife Florence, Joseph Thomson's former head? man Ibrahim and many other fascinating personalities also appear in the narrative. But James Martin, the famous illiterate caravan leader, who did have a connection with surveying for the railway, seems a surprising omission from a collection of colourful characters in this most colourful period of imperial activity. Despite its historical defects and some irritants in the style, the whole book provides a gripping enough tale which many will enjoy. One hopes that it will be successful enough to make someone feel it worth paying Mrs. Turk and her daughter the 1000 shillings they really wanted for the diary. R. C. Bridges

Science and Secrets of Early Medicine: Egypt, Mesopotamia, India, China, Mexico, Peru

Exposition of medical history can take many forms. It may range from treatises which interest only the narrow specialists to popularization that aims at the grammar school mentality. In between we have all gradations. The present book represents a splendid popularization which can appeal to a very wide audience, including both laymen and physicians. Superb illustrations and a readable informative text combine to make a volume that is esthetically satisfying, instructive, and stimulating. The illustrations form the core of the book. These for the most part are photographs of archeological monuments, paintings, sculptures and artifacts, all pertaining to the medical scene, together with various sketches, diagrams, maps, imaginative reconstructions, and drawings that contribute to the narration. Some beautiful colored plates are also included. The general scheme of exposition is, to start each section with a brief survey of historical and cultural background and then, building on this foundation, to discuss

Quadriporticus Sancti Petri in Vaticano

Among the countless attempts by nineteenth-century architects to supply a reconstruction of some ancient or medieval building, none was more favourably received nor more widely reproduced than the general view of Old St. Peter's and the adjoining Vatican Palace ‘about the year MCCCCL’, drawn in 1891 by Henry William Brewer. Brewer is better known for his tentative reconstruction of the city of Paris in the first third of the sixteenth century; but like the rest of his imaginative reconstructions, his drawing of Old St. Peter's also is a notable performance, bearing witness to the preparation of many years; and it has since been accepted in all hand-books on early Christian art as an attractive, and seemingly very instructive, illustration. Nevertheless it will not bear close, critical examination. In the Jubilee year of 1450 neither the Sixtine Chapel nor the Belvedere were yet standing, nor had the angle projection of the Palatium Archipresbyteri yet received its two-storied archway.Brewer was above all concerned to illustrate the grace of a grandiose, light-strewn quadriporticus. Its northern arcade, with its continuous sloping roof, rests against a long and extremely narrow south wing of the Vatican Palace. This fact alone is a clear indication that his drawing was based on nothing more precise or more reliable than the well-known plan of Tiberius Alpharanus, published in 1589–90, or on plans derived from it.

The Logic of Planning

Tp H ROUGHOUT human history, a certain amount of social planning has been carried on, but we have been through a period in our own immediate past when it was frowned upon and limited to a minimum. In period of early modern expansion many frontiers-geographical, commercial, scientific, technological and industrial-the idea of planning and controlling social processes was indeed utopian. The rangc of foreseen consequences of acts was very limited. Social science as such was unborn. The wise men of day realized that attempted planning without adequate knowledge of laws of social processes would work more mischief than good. Everyone who has ever had a Bumstead neighbor to insist fixing some out of order gadget will appreciate their wisdom. The ideology of day presented doctrine of preordained natural laws or an unseen guiding hand which assured realization of common good, thus rendering human social planning unnecessary. However, rise and moderate success of social sciences along with serious complications in natural social order have quickened hope for successful social planning. The employment of scientific method in study of social phenomena promises to provide us with knowledge necessary for control of many social processes. The founder of sociology in United States, Lester F. Ward, maintained: Society should not drift aimlessly to and fro, backwards and forwards, without guidance. Rather group should carefully study its situations, comprehend aims it desires to accomplish, study scientifically best methods for attainment of these, and then concentrate social energy to task set before it.' And contemporary sociologists like Robert S. Lynd in Knowledge for What? George Lundberg in Can Scietce Save Us? and Howard W. Odum in his many books, to mention only a few, are advocating same approach. Social science may provide requisite knowledge of social processes for social planning, but it cannot provide us with social plans. Lewis Mumford outlines four stages of regional planning, and all social planning is regional planning in a sense: (1) Systematic survey disclosing, by first-hand visual exploration and by systematic fact-gathering, all relevant data regional complex. (2) outline of needs and activities in terms of social ideals and purposes which is a critical formulation-and revision-of current values. (3) The formulation of a plan by imaginative reconstruction and projection on basis of known facts, observed trends, estimated needs, [and] critically formulated purposes.. . (4) The carrying out of plan by community in which the plan undergoes a readaptation as it encounters traditions, conventions, resistances, and sometimes unexpected opportunities of actual life.2 Even if we should conceive of formulation of plan by imaginative reconstruction and projection as formulation of a hypothesis subject to verification in execution, it would not be a scientific hypothesis inasmuch as it would not be descriptive-explanatory in character, distinguishing characteristic of all scientific knowledge. It would contain statements of what ought to be in light of scientific knowledge of situation and certain critically formulated purposes. Thus social planning is neither social science nor entirely dependent upon social science for its data. It is planner's judgment of what ought to be as based farnulation of purpose in term}s of a revision of current values rather than as based scientific knowledge of social processes which arouses strongest opposition today. There is wisdom part of opponents of planning in recognizing that a planner with wrong goals and norms but adequate knowledge of social processes is much more dangerous than a planner with inadequate knowledge. Hence development of social science, although a necessary condition, is not a sufficient condition for social planning. Many are afraid that in planning of society goals planned for would be goals of planners or of special interest groups that con1 Quoted in H. W. Odum, Man's Quest for Social Guidance, p). 503. 2 Culture of Cities, pp. 376-380.

The Real Life of Sebastian Knight

As in Lolita Vladimir Nabokov works his perverse magic in a story that is a combination of detection, pursuit, and imaginative reconstruction.

Philosophy and History

IN the annual philosophical lecture on “Some Problems of the Philosophy of History” delivered under the Henriette Hertz Trust before the British Academy on March 16 (London: Oxford University Press, Is. 6d. net), Prof. G. C. Field urged that all serious philosophical thinking must be based on an examination of the assumptions actually made in the other established forms of thinking. If the philosopher wishes to proceed eventually to a general theory of knowledge or reality, he must take this as his foundation and evidence. Prof. Field suggested that among the established forms of thinking, history holds an important place and deserves serious consideration in view of the tendency to suggest that the assumptions of physical science must be the assumptions of all valid thinking. History forms a coherent body of thought in which mutual understanding and cooperation between large numbers of people are possible, and has independent claims to consideration as an essential part of the evidence on which our final theories must be based. Prof. Field distinguishes three main elements in the general structure of historical thinking: imaginative reconstruction of past events or situations ; the belief that this imaginative reconstruction is correct, corresponding to, or being like in some degree, what really happened ; and the evidence on which our conclusions are based. Discussing the dependence of our historical beliefs on narrative, he referred to the question of selection in imaginative reconstruction and its bearing on the understanding rather than the mere recording of what happened.

Sur les autres mondes

THIS work is a comprehensive and detailed account of the sun, moon and planets, intended for the general reader. The author adopts the historical method and leads the reader gradually to an up-to-date picture of each of the bodies concerned, with a carefully planned exposition of planetary phenomena. M. Rudaux is also a most accomplished artist and the book is profusely illustrated with diagrams and coloured plates, the latter being mainly imaginative reconstructions of the planetary and lunar scenes. As an example of his pictorial method, we may mention the aspect of Saturn and its rings as seen from one of Saturn's satellites. The author and publishers are to be congratulated on a really magnificent production.