... The Herculean task of the biographer is to recover the person, as a human being, from history. To put the flesh and bones back on him so that he may walk among us.
Why should the biographer set this as his goal? Because words and acts without the life do not make a man. We are reduced to a recounting of the "accomplishments" of a machine.
A plaster saint.
Adding the life to the work gives us a deeper appreciation for the work, that a human being did this...."
Mark - I've been thinking about this post of yours for a while.
I'm all for historians uncovering or discovering the personal facts of a subject's life (although I'd hope that they'd focused on getting the public "words and acts" down first, and as comprehesively as possible). What I question is the almost automatic next step that historians tend to make, i.e. the extrapolations and theorizing and assumptions they do/make in linking the public and private lives, and in 'explaining' the public works via the private life. I don't think I object to that in principle, but in practice I don't think it's usually done very well. And I think that's important because, in the hands of a talented writer, these assumed linkages and 'explanations' can become so interwoven into the narrative arc of the story that a reader can't tell where the history and truth and facts end and where the speculations begin; the one version of story of the subject's life can easily become THE story. Historians, I believe, need to be more circumspect in this regard.
But also -- and at the risk of sounding arrogant -- I have to admit that, if a good historian has given me all the facts about a subject's life both public and private, I feel very capable of making those linkages and finding those explanations for myself, and just as capable as the historian is (assuming he/she has put down on the page all they know or have discovered about the subject). In truth, I prefer to make my own linkages, as it allows me to participate more in what I'm reading. What's the alternative? Am I supposed to assume that the historian has more life experience or more insight into the human condition than you or I do, Mark? If he/she has gotten the acts and words and facts of a subject's life down on paper, what special and unique qualifications does he/she have to go further than that, and to create a narrative and an 'explanation' that ties those facts together?
To paraphrase (I forget who) - "every philosophy contains within it the author's autobiography"...or I might say "every biography contains within it the historian's own philosophy."
Yes, I don't want "plastic saints", Mark. But I'd like to think that I'm not a plastic person - no one is. I think as grown-ups we're quite capable of understanding the complexities and contradictions and failings of all human beings; such that, if we have the facts, we're not likely to create plastic saints out of the materials of our own psyches. Of course, that 'version' of the subject will be in part of our own making, the facts filtered through the lens of our own lives. But then again, the alternative is to ask me to accept another person's 'version', which also has been filtered through a lens. I'm sorry, but I tend to prefer my own, if only because it is my own. (Also, my version exists only for me, in my own mind and in the privacy of my living roon; I'm not putting out in public for others to believe in.) And I think that a good historian leaves room for that to happen; he/she allows for that participation instead of trying to prove themselves smarter and more insightrful than anyone else. A good historian is, I think, humble. (Maybe a good storyteller is not).
And finally, Mark - when it comes to the work of artists etc, I tend to find that looking at or reading or listening to or participating in the work itself tells me as much and all I need to know about the artist's life, if in a more subtle and vague and less-prescribed way. It seems to me that if anyone thinks that great art isn't also an exposing of the artist's in-most self and deepest self-understanding, they don't understand either art or the creative process.
And to bring this abruptly back to golf course architecture, don't you think you can tell/understand something important and significant about, say, Ben Crenshaw through his work with Bill Coore in designing courses? Do you need to know more 'details' about the man's private life to get a sense of why, say, Sand Hills is the way it is, and a sense of the spirit(s) behind its creation?
Excuse the ramble. I'd been thinking about your post since yesterday.
Peter