Recently, I mentioned that I had read Friedrich Nietzsche’s “On the Use and Abuse of History.” My rough and tumble summary is as follows:

In “On the Uses and Abuses of History,” Nietzsche delineates three principal approaches to history: monumental, antiquarian, and critical. He argues that each methodology serves distinct purposes and carries unique implications for the perception and utilization of historical knowledge.

Monumental History: This approach venerates history as a continuum of extraordinary deeds and eminent individuals, offering inspiration for present and future endeavors. It emphasizes the perpetuity of greatness, encouraging individuals to aspire to the achievements of historical giants. Nietzsche asserts that by demonstrating what was once attainable remains within the realm of possibility that monumental history acts as a powerful motivational force.

Antiquarian History: Antiquarian history esteems the past for its own intrinsic value, driven by reverence and loyalty. It concentrates on the preservation of customs, traditions, and artifacts, fostering a sense of continuity and belonging. Nietzsche argues that this approach is indispensable for cultivating a collective memory and identity and providing comfort and a sense of rootedness within a historical continuum.

Critical History: Critical history is characterized by its evaluative and interrogative stance towards the past. It enables individuals and societies to extricate themselves from outdated or oppressive traditions, serving as a liberating force that facilitates progress. Nietzsche states that by challenging and reassessing historical narratives, critical history promotes a dynamic and progressive engagement with the past.

Balancing These Approaches: Nietzsche stresses that equilibrium among these historical approaches is essential for an appropriate engagement with history. An overemphasis on monumental history may lead to the undue glorification of the past, which stifles innovation. Conversely, an excessive focus on antiquarian history risks engendering a stagnant conservatism resistant to necessary change and progress. Additionally, overreliance on critical history can result in destructive cynicism and a disconnection from one’s heritage. A balanced historical perspective integrates the aspirational qualities of monumental history, the conserving virtues of antiquarian history, and the emancipatory critique of critical history. This synthesis fosters a society that respects its past, cherishes its heritage, and remains receptive to change and improvement.

My introduction to Nietzsche’s characterizations of historical approaches was revelatory, as it revealed much about my own approaches and reactions to history and historical objects. It also clarified the occasional disconnect I experience when engaging with contemporary historical studies, methodologies, and historians. In brief, I perceive that the current academic climate exhibits a pronounced imbalance, favoring critical history.[1] This predominance serves the interests of individual academicians and ideologues, rather than the broader objectives of history or society. Conversely, within the realm of political society, there is a noticeable tilt towards monumental history, almost entirely neglecting antiquarian and critical perspectives, which poses significant risks. Interestingly, I find myself slightly imbalanced in the Nietzschean sense, perhaps excessively favoring antiquarian history, thereby rendering myself somewhat out of step with both the Academy and political society. The quest for balance is imperative.

However, the aforementioned observations merely serve as a prelude to the more profound enlightenment I experienced while delving into Nietzsche’s concept of antiquarian history. In a particularly insightful article by Stephen Bann, entitled “Clio in Part: On Antiquarianism and the Historical Fragment,” published in 1987, I encountered a truly remarkable quote from Marcel Proust. This quotation elucidated, with striking clarity, my perspectives on literature, history, historical artifacts (including coins), and my self-identification as an antiquarian. It profoundly articulated the essence of what this self-identification entails and reinforced my understanding of my approach to these fields.

To provide a fitting introduction for individuals unfamiliar with the work from which I take Proust’s quote, which is to follow, it is essential to contextualize Proust’s reflections on the imaginative power of antiquities. In “Contre Sainte-Beuve,” a collection of essays in which Marcel Proust critiques the method of literary criticism employed by Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve, he vividly describes how historical imagination can transform our perception of ancient sites, such as the fictional estate of Guermantes. Guermantes, a recurring symbol in Proust’s magnum opus “In Search of Lost Time,” represents an idealized vision of the past, embodying the timelessness and continuity of history. The following excerpt from “Contre Sainte-Beuve” beautifully captures the essence of this transformation, illustrating how the past and present converge through the lens of imagination:

“And if Guermantes does not disappoint one as all imagined things do when reduced to reality; this is undoubtedly because at no time is it a real place, because even when one is walking about in it, one feels that the things one sees there are merely the wrappings of other things, that reality lies, not in this present but far elsewhere, that the stone under one’s hand is no more than a metaphor of Time; and the imagination feeds on Guermantes visited as it fed on Guermantes described because all these things are still only words, everything is a splendid figure of speech that means something else…. As for the castle towers, I tell you they are not only of that date, they are still in it. This is what stirs one’s heart when one looks at them. People always account for the emotional quality of old buildings by saying how much they must have seen in their time. Nothing could be more untrue. Look at the towers of Guermantes; they still look down on Queen Matilda’s cavalcade, on their dedication by Charles the Bad. They have seen nothing since. The moment when things exist is determined by the consciousness that reflects them; at that moment, they become ideas and are given their form; and their form, in its perpetuity, prolongs one century through the midst of others.”[2]

That final sentence resonates with me profoundly, both emotionally and instinctively. It elucidates why I have often conveyed to friends and family that, despite not having physically traversed great distances in my lifetime, I have, in truth, journeyed to more places and temporalities than almost anyone I know. This has been achieved through my extensive readings and the curation of my collections.

It also illuminates why, nearly twenty-five years ago, when a beloved friend and colleague faced a life-threatening health condition, I found it fitting to send her an antique silver Ethiopian Coptic Cross from my collection. This cross, approximately a century old, was likely crafted from silver originating from a Maria Theresa Trade Thaler. Accompanying the cross was a note explaining that, although it resided in my collection as an antiquarian item, it was made by the Faithful, for the Faithful, to aid the Faithful in prayer. Thus, the aura of its origin and use still imbued it with a sacred presence, which she, as one of the Faithful seeking prayer, would find comforting during that critical time. The words of Proust, I believe, provide a more cogent explanation of what I, ever the antiquarian, attempted to convey in my letter.

[1] A powerful discussion of the current imbalance in the Academy, with its excessive favoring of critical history and the attendant detrimental societal affects, is found in an essay by Julian Young. Unfortunately, the essay, which has a convincing introduction and general analysis of the situation, suffers horribly from poor analysis in the section entitled The Anxieties of Youth and fails absolutely in the particulars of its conclusion, which approaches an ideological agenda despite its disclaimers. The essay is still recommended for it strong beginnings as it only goes off the rails towards the very end. Young, J. (2023). The Uses and Misuses of History: Reflections on Nietzsche’s Second Untimely Meditation. Society, 60(670-683). https://doi.org/10.1007/s12115-023-00879-0

[2] Bann, S. (1987). Clio in Part: On Antiquarianism and the Historical Fragment. Perspecta, 23, 37, quote is cited in fn25 to Proust, M. (1984). By way of Sainte-Beuve (S. Townsend Warner, Trans.). London: Hogarth. 182-183.