Samuel and Thompson (1990) noted that in oral history 'the manner of the telling is as important as what is told'. To what extent is that the case, and what are the implications for historical analysis/interpretation? Please use specific examples to illustrate your argument.
Oral history, defined by Ron Grele as 'the interviewing of eye-witness participants in the events of the past for the purposes of historical reconstruction' (in Perks and Thomson p. ix), has been considered by conventional historians to be unreliable, a subjective account based on personal memory. However, as Luisa Passerini argues, this subjectivity, which she defines as 'that area of symbolic activity which includes cognitive, cultural and psychological aspects' (p. 85) is an important tool in developing our understanding of historical events.
In Passerini's analysis of interviews from working-class respondents living in Italy during the 1920s and 1930s she discusses 'irrelevant' and 'inconsistent' answers (p. 91) which form part of the 'manner of telling'. The 'irrelevant' responses include silences and humour as part of the oral narrative. Passerini's interpretation of life histories with only incidental references to fascism, and those accounts which contain a gap from the start of Mussolini's rule until the outbreak of the Second World War, is that this indicates 'a self-censorship…a scar, a violent annihilation of many years in human lives, a profound wound in daily experience' (p. 92), that distressing memories have been eliminated from consciousness. She also refers to what is excluded from an oral account in her discussion of 'inconsistent' answers in narratives, which demonstrate discordance with what historians may regard as the major events of the time. For example, interviewees hardly mention fascist trade unions or organized leisure under Mussolini's regime, instead concentrating on issues such as work and family. However, as suggested in a History Workshop editorial of 1979, an alternative explanation for the absence of fascism in these accounts may be that political events affect individual lives in a different way from personal events. In Alessandro Portelli's oral accounts from the 1970s of former Communist activists in Terni, Italy, Maggiorina Mattioli showed more interest in talking about her personal love story than in anti-Fascist activities p. 10. Passerini also explores the use of anecdotes and jokes in oral accounts, which she views as communicating the struggle between existing beliefs and the change in workplace relationships in the new regime. The use of humour is seen as indicating the active agency of individuals. Passerini's approach argued for a change in the way oral sources were interpreted, in order to understand how memory and ideology affect life-story narratives.
This approach developed alongside a move to interpret oral sources in a way which took account of how a narrative is formed. Portelli's oral history study in Terni explores how life narratives can be constructed around events which did not happen in reality. In his interview with former activist Alfredo Filipponi, the narrator describes a dispute between himself and Togliatti, postwar Communist party secretary. Portelli attributes the telling of this story to subconscious hopes and disappointments coming through 'p. 102 as the weariness of age and illness and the fatigue of the long interview eroded his conscious controls'. Alongside Filipponi's personal frustrations with the party, Portelli sees his narration as articulating wider dissatisfaction with how history unfolded after the expectations raised by freedom from fascism, thus linking individual memory with broader historical narratives.
Portelli also explores oral narratives centred around the battle of Poggio Bustone, which describe the events inconsistently or in a distorted form. However, as he argues, this does not suggest that the accounts are invalid, but that they may contain evidence to the historian of the processes of memory and imagination, about the meaning of events to those involved. He sees memory 'p. 69 not (as) a passive depository of facts, but an active process of creation of meanings'. Oral accounts provide an opportunity for the historian to explore how narrators attempt to make sense of their past, and situate their narrative within a historical context.
It is important in this respect to consider that oral accounts are constructed in the present, which can lead to their reliability being questioned. As John Bodnar (in G&T p. 234), notes, 'only from the perspective of the end do the beginnings and the middle of a narrative make sense'. In considering the formation of life-narratives, Alistair Thomson has argued that the concept of 'composure' is significant. His study of men who were Anzac soldiers during the First World War centres on how individuals compose an account of their life with which they feel comfortable, and how narratives are constructed drawing from the language and meanings of wider culture. Thomson illustrates the relationship between individual memories of the war and the collective mythology of the Anzac legend, citing p.301 how some of those he interviewed recounted scenes from the film Gallipoli as their own memories. However, whilst some of the soldiers Thomson interviewed were able to compose an account they felt comfortable with, which corresponded to the narrative of the Anzac legend, for others this was not possible. One soldier interviewed by Thomson, Fred Farrall, (p. 303) acknowledges that he was not able to show his fear during the battle of the Somme: his narrative reveals a sense of inadequacy compared to the legend of Anzac bravery, which led to a repression of his emotions. This suggests that difficulties exist in the ability of individuals to achieve 'composure'. As Penny Summerfield contends p. 69, particular memories may result in 'discomposure'. Distressing memories are part of all life histories, and many oral accounts demonstrate painful emotions.
Emotions are central to the content of memories and how these memories are preserved, as discussed by Anna Green p. 17. Emotion is expressed in oral accounts through the language used, tone of voice, timing of speech, and facial expressions, and interpretation of these dimensions should form part of historical analysis. In the Frankton Junction Oral History project, which collected accounts from residents of the community in New Zealand, there were many stories about Sergeant Bonnington, who served as a police officer there from the 1940s. As Green p. 11 discusses, these oral accounts utilised figurative language, such as metaphors. An example of this is the many stories about Bonnington's boots (applied to the ''backsides' of miscreants' p.9) which are seen as a metaphor for authority and order.
Portelli p. 65 explores the interpretation of the rhythm of speech of oral accounts. He suggests that a change in the rhythm of speech by narrators can indicate a change in attitude to the topic being discussed. Changes in the speed of speech can also be significant, although care needs to be taken in the analysis: slowing down by the interviewee may indicate either an emphasis of a certain point, or difficulty in articulation; speeding up may signify familiarity with a topic or a desire to hurry over certain points.
Oral histories also include aspects of performance, and therefore need to be viewed within this context. As Elizabeth Tonkin p. 26 contends, the vocabulary used and the features of the performance are affected by the situation and the nature of the audience. An example of this is given by Portelli p. 14: in the early 1970s he recorded an informal conversation with Amerigo Matteucci, mayor of the village of Polino. In the early 1990s, Portelli saw a video interview with Matteucci, who was speaking on the same topics, but the 'shift from personal exchange to public statement was clear. In the videotape, Matteucci wore his best clothes, sat as his mayor's desk, and spoke into the camera a monologue to an invisible audience. His voice was flatter; his body language stiffer.'
A significant role in the formation of life narratives is also played by myth. Raphael Samuel and Paul Thompson p. 6 argue 'for the universality of myth as a constituent of human experience'. This leads historical interpretation towards a more psychoanalytic perspective. Samuel and Thompson see in the process of constructing a coherent narrative, in the p. 8 'selecting, ordering, and simplifying', a movement of the life-history towards the fable. As Jean Peneff discusses, this mythical framework through which life stories are constructed draws attention to 'tale types' such as the myth of the self-made man. p. 37 Three characteristic features of this myth are noted: a particular event which changed the life direction of the individual; the omission of advantageous social circumstances; and a failure to mention help received from others. Peneff suggests that interpretation of life narratives needs to take account of the unique situation and experiences of each individual in determining which areas of the narrative are most likely to be subject to the influence of myth. Rosanna Basso explores how individual experiences can unite and divide to create myths, reconstructing the story of a conflict in Italy between middle-school pupils and the headmaster of the school over lack of heating. As the pupils waited outside the school one morning, word spread that the heating was still not working after a number of days, culminating in the pupils going on strike. The oral accounts of the event allow the mental processes to be reconstructed and show how the perception of the pupils toward the school authorities changed. As Samuel and Thompson conclude, p. 13 myth can lead oral historians towards understanding of how events in the past were experienced and perceived.
However, because Samuel and Thompson interpret oral accounts through the lens of myth, they ultimately fail to address individual agency. This can be explored further through consideration of the role of gender in myth. Samuel and Thompson p. 17 view heroic myths as based on masculine qualities of strength, courage and independence. In contrast, qualities which are seen as feminine such as being self-sacrificing form the mythic ideal of womanhood. However, as Green argues p. 94, many life narratives of women have demonstrated their individual agency, their independence and challenge to authority. Jane Moodie's oral history study of farmers who settled in the Waikite Valley in New Zealand during the 1950s demonstrated the differences between men and women in how they constructed their memories. The narratives of the men were based around the legend of the pioneer settler, whilst the narratives of many of the women focused on the myth of the independent or rebel woman, rather than that of the supportive wife and mother. Suzanne Christiansen p. 56 talks of an act of rebellion when she is asked if she would like to drive the school bus 'I went home and asked - said to Peter, and he said 'No'. And I thought, 'Well blow you, you go to this and that and the other'…So I got my licence and I started to drive the bus and I enjoyed it'. Another woman recalls throwing a bucket of water over her husband. However, most of the criticism of husbands was expressed indirectly or through the use of humour: as Moodie suggests, these stories are symbols of independence within a role which was dependent and subordinate, within a culture of keeping difficulties in a marriage private.
The interviewing technique adopted by Moodie in this study draws upon work by Kathryn Anderson and Dana Jack. P. 11 They view life narratives of women as framed by two perspectives: the dominant position of men in the culture; and the realities of individual experience. In their review of oral histories for the Washington Women's Heritage Project, they found the focus to be on events and activities rather than the feelings and values that lay behind these events. p. 17 Anderson proposes that oral historians need to analyse narratives more deeply by taking account of what was implied by narrators, what was signified by pauses, and allowing interviewees the opportunity to explain things in their own terms. Jack offers three ways of listening to enable interviewers to understand the narrator's way of thinking: p. 19-22 to listen for 'meta-statements' where interviewees reflect on what they have just said; to listen to the 'logic of the narrative' and how themes relate to each other; and to listen for the 'moral language' of the narrator, which allows the relationship between self-image and cultural norms to be examined.
The idea that individual narratives are shaped by cultural influences is examined by Summerfield, whose oral history project on the Home Guard during the Second World War explores the relationship of gender to public discourses. She notes the difficulty of some female respondents in relating their accounts of being in the Home Guard, with accounts being brief and fragmented. Summerfield suggests a cultural explanation for this difficulty in that public discourses (film, cartoons, and fiction) during the war did not include female members of the Home Guard. Individual memory and public culture are at odds, and thus a coherent narrative cannot be composed. However, this does not explain how one of the interviewees, Jeanne Gale Sharp, gives a fluent account of her time in the Home Guard. It is important to acknowledge that women have individual agency and choice, which also shapes their memories. Summerfield argues that p. 88 aspects of the respondents' life stories which were 'embedded in cultural representations of femininity, such as Jeanne Townend's romantic affair and Ellen Baxter's widowhood' were more easily composed into their narrative. However, perhaps this can be explained by personal events impacting more on individual lives than political events.
The extent to which gendered roles have been adopted by individuals can be examined through silence in oral testimony, as demonstrated by Kate Fisher's study of birth control with respondents born between 1899 and 1931. Some of the interviewees were reluctant to give details of their sexual practices, which may be seen to cast doubt on the truthfulness of the accounts. However, p. 17-18 as Fisher suggests, the 'manner of the telling' on such a sensitive topic, the 'hesitations and pauses, giggles and leers, coyness and suggestion, fumblings and eloquence…was very revealing of underlying opinions, attitudes and practices'. The silences in the narratives are revealing for what they tell us about gendered approaches to sex and contraception. The men interviewed in the study were generally more articulate about sexual practices, more forthcoming, whilst the women's accounts were more hesitant, their vocabulary less eloquent:
'the women probably, you know, thought it was a bit embarrassing to (giggles) be thinking about that sort of - even thinking about having the sex (giggles) in a way'. Catherine, p. 211
'we used to reach for one (pessary) and you would have to put it in her fanny and you wait for a few minutes and then you would put your willy in' Charlie p. 18
This difference in the structure of the narrative for men and women reinforces the claims that many of the women made that they did not talk about sex, and left issues around birth control to their husbands. In contrast, the men's confident accounts demonstrate their desire to be seen as informed about sexual matters.
The structure of the narrative can also be shaped by a traumatic experience in an individual's life. As Selma Leydesdorff et. al. assert, p. 15 life histories of individuals who have experienced trauma are typically arranged as 'before' and 'after' the event, the trauma affecting how their life is subsequently perceived. The analysis of the narrative needs to explore discontinuities and fragmentation in the account, along with elements affected by myth and legend. As Green (p. 97) contends, oral accounts from survivors of the Holocaust demonstrate an inability to construct a narrative of their life which makes sense of the past. The loss of agency over their lives impacts on both the content and form of their account. As Naomi Rosh White (p. 174) notes, survivors of the Holocaust are unable to find words to express their experiences adequately. As Primo Levi writes of his time in Auschwitz: 'Just as our hunger is not that feeling of missing a meal, so our way of being cold has need of a new word. We say 'hunger', we say 'tiredness', 'fear', 'pain', we say 'winter', and they are different things. They are free words, created and used by free men who lived in comfort and suffering in their homes.'
This inability to express experiences was also evident in a project carried out in collaboration with the Memorial Society, interviewing Russians who had lived under Stalin's regime. Orlando Figes argues that the topic 'was in a closed zone of memory which most survivors of the Stalin terror had not previously allowed themselves to revisit - let alone to talk about' (p. 122). He explores the particular impact of myth and legend in these accounts. Many of those interviewed had been children in the 1930s, and had lost one or both parents during that time. They had created myths of the 'happy family life' or the 'good father' based on scant memories and stories they had heard (p. 123). It may be the case that creating myths in this way was an attempt by individuals to express and understand their emotions in dealing with past trauma.
As Green and Troup discuss, the increasing significance placed by historians on the importance of subjectivity in oral accounts has impacted on the methodology of oral history, resulting in a more 'subject-centred approach' to interviewing (p. 235). As part of this approach, it is important for historians to consider the interviewee during the process of interpretation of oral sources. Katherine Borland explores this issue with reference to an interview she conducted with her grandmother about a day at the races with her father in 1944. In analysing the interview, Borland identified links between the narrative and cultural frameworks, and highlighted various aspects of the account, which differed from her grandmother's perspective of what was intended. Borland acknowledges that, as a feminist, she saw the story as a female struggle for independence within a male environment, but when her grandmother read the final article, she disagreed with this interpretation. As Michael Frisch (G&T p. 236) has argued, 'oral historians must share interpretative authority with those with whom they work'.
Oral history provides historians with a rich resource from which insights can be drawn into how individuals make sense of their life experiences. The emotion expressed in the telling of oral accounts; the use of humour; silences in the narrative; the role played by myth in the formation of the narrative; all form important dimensions of the interpretative process. Whilst individual narratives can be shaped by cultural influences, it is vital to recognise the active agency of individuals in their lives.
