Bike shorts, the pope, and burning private papers

I'm home from the car dealership.  Inge (I named my Solara after an Austrian great-aunt of mine) is feeling much better with her mirror restored to working order.   I will do a better job of backing out of the garage, I promise!

I threw my bike in the car on the way, and was able to get in a nice ride in the hills while they worked on the Toyota.  I stopped off to get some food on the way back to the dealership and forgot that most folks will stare when men wander around in public in tight-fitting bike shorts and jerseys.  At my favorite taco stand on North Fair Oaks (where I stopped for lunch) a little boy said very loudly, "Mama, I can see his thingie!"  Great.  Just great.  I write posts extolling modesty, and yet I seem to have caused a scene at "La Estrella" this morning and frightened small children.   I guess that's what I get for once again falling off the vegetarian bandwagon.

Russell Fox has a terrific post up about the Pope and leftist politics.  It's a long one, but a worthy read.  I liked this bit very much:

No, for this man (JPII) , democracy and freedom were basically a means, important primarily because of what they make possible: the realization of a spiritual, meaning-full, non-materialistic culture, and that means a culture that never treats human beings as merely "material"--no matter if they are young or old, rich or poor, or for that matter, a condemned murderer, an enemy soldier, in a persistent vegetative state or even a fetus. For a great many conservatives in America today, a (unfortunately usually quite partial) attachment to these spiritual absolutes is common, but the ability to make it part of a socio-economic and cultural argument is lacking...

Preach it, brother Russell. 

Jonathan Dresner, my fellow Cliopatriarch, is a bit troubled by the pope's desire to have his personal notes destroyed:

...as an historian, I have deeply mixed feelings about this: as an historical figure, the late Pope's personal papers could be extremely valuable sources for answering questions we haven't even considered asking yet. It saddens me -- and piques my curiosity -- as an historian, to see such valuable materials intentionally destroyed. This isn't an accident, a side effect of war, archival degradation or deaccession, theft, etc. It's a deliberate closing of avenues of investigation and understanding. On the other hand...  I respect the desire to be remembered for public works and words, without the added complications and ambiguities that private papers and drafts could instill.

Jonathan puts it perfectly.  I'd love to read his private papers, for just those reasons.  At the same time, I know how easy it is for one's personal, unedited musings to be misconstrued.    In my work as a medievalist, of course, I never encountered diaries or journals or private notes; I dealt with the Calendar of Close Rolls and other crown documents.  As a gender historian, however, I am aware of how complex and dangerous a task it is to reconstruct a life from personal papers.  (I always think of how controversial the work of one of my heroes, Lillian Faderman has been -- especially when she argues that women living more than a century ago can accurately be called "lesbian" based upon tantalizing fragments in personal letters and diaries.)

In my home office, I have my private journals that date back to my college years.  I wrote things in those journals that I would never want revealed to the outside world.  I would never want my children to read them, much less an historian (should my life ever merit professional interest).  Though there is much within their pages that reveals how I became who I am, these little volumes are mainly filled with embarrassing self-obsession and a whole litany of unpleasant and tawdry stories rendered in painful detail!

Every so often, I make a resolution to destroy all these journals.  I know I must do so before I have children old enough to read them.  I rarely, if ever, glance through them anymore.  I don't dwell these days on who I've been and where I've been and who was with me at the time.   But yet, I can't quite seem to bring myself to toss them, or burn them.  Part of me claims it's the historian in me, but that's a professional excuse.  I know that there is little good that can come of having these old documents lingering around, but part of me still wants to cling to them for just a little while longer.  Somehow, part of me wants to hold on to the man who I was, even if the accounts of what that man did and thought are painful and humiliating.  Cicero said,  "There is pleasure in the calm remembrance of a past sorrow".  He was right.  But I'm not sure it's always a healthy pleasure.  I think the time to dump or burn the journals is coming soon. 

I think it needs to happen before I marry my fiancee later this year.

Comments

[Caitriona]

There were reasons that Lot and his family were directed to leave the cities, and their pasts, behind them without looking back. Often, looking back at where we've been rather than keeping our eyes on where we are going can harm us, even destroy us. It can entice us back to who we were, that person we out-grew.

Burning the journals probably isn't a bad thing. But there may come times when some events from your past prove helpful in relating to other people in need of your assistance. Just be judicious in presenting those events when the time comes.

One such time came for my husband this week as we were dealing with an exchange student who was going home early. We were trying to get across to him the concept of taking personal responsibility for one's actions and accepting the consequences of choosing those actions. The young man was convinced that we just *couldn't* know what it's like "out in the real world." So my husband proceeded to clear up that notion by telling a few things from when he was this young man's age. The young man was clearly shocked.

Later, when we had some time alone, my husband asked me, "Is there anything else you'd like to know about my past?" I figure he'll tell me what he needs to tell me, when he needs to tell it.

Good luck. What you are contemplating is a difficult decision.

[Hugo]

Caitriona, you're right. I do think the past -- particularly a colorful one -- can be helpful in this way. If these stories are in my memory, I can use them as I like; if it's all on paper, it may be misconstrued or unnecessarily hurtful.

[kelly]

I love La Estrella, but are they done with their crazy construction yet? Last time I was there, there was a huge ditch seperating me and my tacos that I had to navigate.

Car names, my last volvo was named Indgrid, my latest I call Ava. They must have the Swedish yah, you know? You should've named your toyota something Japanese in honor of her origins, but Inge is a fine name.

I ditched all my pictures, letters, memories from a long and painful relationship a few years back. I kind of wish I hadn't done that, there are times that it might have been useful to look over them and say to myself "what was I thinking"? But then on second thought, who needs to punish themselves that way? I think it's a very generous idea burning your journals before you are married. I dig it. It implies that you are intent on leaving the past in the past and commited to building a new future (and thus a new past) with your fiancee. That's awesome.

[Tara]

I disagree. Someday, reading your journals may be the only connection to you that your loved ones have left.

Also, since my second mama got alzheimers I have been reading her journals (she offered them to be read), and I have learned so much about her and my mother's life, and what they were like when they were younger, that has taught me a lot about me and also made it easier to accept or understand some things about me. I'm surprised a historian would want to burn journals. The future is built on the past whether the past is revealed or concealed, burning journals does not leave the past behind, it might betray a discomfort with the past that could be more treacherous for the future than leaving that bridge intact.

[djw]

I kind of agree with Tara. I feel like destroying such documents would be an attempt to assert a kind of control of, or even ownership over both the past and the future that I just don't feel djwv.2005 can plausibly defend. I have similar documents I don't want read by anyone, but I can't do it. I don't own my past, or my future, and I don't want to unduly limit the ways in which future inhabitants of this body can navigate their past.

OF course, I'm probably working with a much less reductionist account of personal identity than you. I've always felt like I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago in any meaningful sense, I won't be the same person in another 10 years, that's fine, and I can't really do anything about that. I get the sense you have a much stronger notion of persistent personal identity over time, perhaps for theological reasons. (Or maybe because I just have freaky views on personal identity).

[Hugo]

Yes, kelly, they are done with the crazy construction. And the burritos are as good as ever. Should you desire a meat slip (as I did), the carne asada (and the carnitas) are sublime...

DJW and Tara, I hear you. But to be frank, we may have different content in our journals. I've alluded more than once to a very colorful past; my journals are filled with names and details that have little historical value but could prove stunning and hurtful to many folks. If I preserve them out of a desire to honor my past, am I not doing so at the expense of my loved ones (both living and future) who might be shocked and horrified by explicit details of what their father did when he was a young man? With that in mind, I think it's rather selfish of me to hold on to them.

In AA, they say that with recovery "We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it." I don't regret my past, beyond regretting the great pain I inflicted on not a few people. But I don't need to remind myself of it, either, and I don't need folks who love me and depend on me to know the exact nature of my youthful - and not so youthful -- indiscretions.

I do understand that kids need to learn that their parents are, and were, human beings. I think it's helpful to tell kids, in general terms, stories of one's own past that may help them feel as if they aren't alone. But some judgment must be exercised, and if I don't destroy my journals, how can I control what they -- or others -- discover?

[J.J.B]

Hugo,
You're not alone with backing out of the garage and destroying a side mirror. I did the same thing...I just haven't bothered to replace mine.

[Caitriona]

My husband has been drawn to Luke 9:62 lately.

KJV - And Jesus said unto him, "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

You're doing fine.

[Charla]

Personal musings can definitely be misconstrued, and so can anything you put in writing. Unscrupulous people can take advantage of sincere praise and adulation put to writing and use it to blackmail and take advantage.__I don't own any journals, and I'm not a collector...I throw everything out. But I have written personal notes to people that I admire and emulate that could, if misinterpreted, label me something that I am not. I can't control past behavior, nor can I control what the recipient of those notes does with my notes. __ I stand by everything I said, I don't deny anything. I still admire, respect,emulate and worship the ground this person walks on. This doesn't mean that I belong in their world, I don't, but if I did, it would certainly be with them.

[Amanda Marcotte]

Of course, those of us who put ourselves into public blogs don't really have a choice....

[Hugo]

Yes, Amanda, we do still have a choice. We self-censor (I assume you do as well), mindful that what we write will be scrutinized (by someone, at least). It's different from a personal journey.

[Jonathan Dresner]

The issues are different, I would say, for a (mostly) private individual versus a public leader like the Pope. In the US, such a blanket destruction of documents would probably be illegal under current law, which recognizes a public ownership of the office and actions of the president, an enduring legal and historical interest which trumps the desire to self-edit.

Still, Hugo, I'd like to urge you to consider archival storage rather than destruction. Honest diarists are rare and valuable sources for cultural and social history. The transition from diary to blog is going to be a subject of great interest in a few years or decades, and there may be other questions we have not yet even thought of. Imagine how different your research history might have been, had there been a collection of diaries available to supplement the public records of your own research? Think of the gender history questions we can't answer because of the paucity of personal writings.

We have the Library of Congress, and Presidential Libraries... we need a People's Archive, an institution that will collect, store and release on whatever schedule is required private papers like diaries. Yes, sources can be misused; but the absence of sources is more likely to lead to bad guesses and assumptions.

[Tara]

I don't know Hugo, if your real concern is names, those can always be blacked out. Also, I pretty much agree with your take on sharing the past with your kids - while you're raising them, and possibly even the whole time when you're still alive, and available to be spoken with about your past and experiences and to share things that might help or comfort. It seems like to destroy your diaries though values the wrong way the image you hope your kids will have of you which to be honest they probably won't because we're all very critical of our parents, and actually reading the diaries will probably prompt them to more understanding and acceptance of you. Not to mention that God willing by the time you die the people you are so concerned about will probably be either dead, infirm, or well past and over the possibility of being hurt by things you wrote when you were young.

[Amanda]

Hugo, these little hints about your past might lead some people to think it worse than it is. Something to consider.

[Hugo]

I'm considering all these points, everyone, including Amanda's. (Would that yours, Amanda, were true.)

Off to church.

[JIC]

I'm of two minds (which is not unusual). On the one hand, so much is lost with the destruction of journals, and some of that may be inherently valuable. On the other hand, much is lost with the destruction of journals, and some of that could be potentially harmful.

Which brings to mind the difference between a journal and a memoir. Into a journal may go everything. It's subjective and selfish and written for no audience. A memoir is, by design, intended to paint past events with a certain light for an audience with no known prejudice. If I was giving advice, I'd say: rewrite your journals into a memoir that illuminates the lessons learned and protects those who might be hurt by the recollections -- and then destroy the original journals.

[djw]

I've had a very boring life by just about any standard (although I've enjoyed it!), and I have absolutely no doubt whatsoever your past is more, um, colorful than mine. Of course, the revealing, embarrassing, and potentially damaging in the wrong hands at the wrong time journals can also deal entirely with the content of one's thoughts. Anyway, I didn't mean to frame my comment as actual advice, just my own misguided musings on the subject. This is the sort of issue people should use their own judgment on.

[annika]

i shredded my written journals last year. i'm not that person anymore, and the self-obsessed writing style made them embarrassing to read anyway. i too, was reluctant to destroy them because of my history training. i was taught to revere "source documents." But shredding them was a freeing experience for me, and i don't miss them.

[jack]

Dr. Hugo,

I would be interested in seeing your take on this article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/10/fashion/10date.html?

Thanks,

Jack

[djw]

Good lord, that article is annoying. Every time I read something like that, I breath a hearty sigh of relief I'm not so obsessed with appearences that I'd make fine distinctions like glasses of wine, OK, split a bottle, watch out, you're GAY. It also seems to give a friendly pass to a bit of homophobic panic (what if someone thinks we're homos!!??) amongst a population that you'd expect to be as un-homophobic as just about any segment of our society. Ugh. Depressing.

[Rachel]

I've always reacted with horror to the prospect of destroying journals; I was an avid journaler from the age of eleven to the age of twenty-one, and these days I journal comprehensively whenever I go on retreat or travel. I'm deeply attached to having my story on paper.

But I completely understand how destroying one's journals could be an act of renewal, and a liberation from the past, and in that regard I applaud your intention. If you have time between now and when you let the journals go, it might be worth paging through them and copying out any bits you think you might want to return to...

[mythago]

As far as 'protecting the kids' goes--don't. That's an excuse for wanting to jettison an embarassing past. You may want to put the journals somewhere so the children don't actually stumble across them until they're adults, but I promise, your children will find your Terrible Secrets about 1/100th as embarassing and shocking as you think. And they may think more of you, actually, to see that Dad was once as juvenile and confused and prone to mistakes as they were when they were kids.