Rory Herbert, final year History student and President of the History Society at the University of Portsmouth, has written the following blog on Soviet involvement in the Spanish Civil War. Rory is Gale Ambassador at the university and contributes to The Gale Review Blog. The role of the Gale Ambassador is to increase awareness of the Gale primary source collections available to students at their university. The University of Portsmouth Library hosts a large collection of Gale primary sources which History students can use when undertaking archival research for their dissertations and other research projects.
Rafael Merry del Val (1865-1930) remarked in his manuscript on the Spanish Situation, written for Chatham House and accessed via Gale’s online archive, that Lenin viewed Spain as imperative to the eventual success of the Bolshevik revolution [1]. It should come as no surprise then that both prior to and following the outbreak of the civil war, the Soviet Union maintained a great interest in the outcome of this nation.
“One of the Spaniards Fighting Their Own Battles: A Nationalist Soldier on the Santander Front in a Captured Concrete Dug-Out with ‘Marxist’ Inscriptions—’Death to Spain! ‘ and ‘Long Live Russia’.” Illustrated London News, 20 Nov. 1937, p. 893. The Illustrated London News Historical Archive, 1842-2003, http://tinyurl.galegroup.com/tinyurl/6YJha8. Accessed 18 May 2018.
Members of the University can access a great new resource which the library has bought.
You will find primary sources, including images, about gender roles from the 19th century to the present. The collection offers sources for the study of women’s suffrage, the feminist movement, the men’s movement, employment, education, the body, the family etc. in the UK, USA and Australia.
New! Greatly expanded access to State Papers Online
Following on from our popular access to Tudor and Stuart State Papers, the library has now bought access to 18th Century State Papers Online Part 1 including Registers of the Privy Council as well as documents on domestic, military and naval matters. Whether you are interested in the Jacobite rebellion, the Seven Years’ War with France, the Boston Tea Party or official correspondence to and from the First Lords of the Admiralty, take a look at the wide selection of beautifully hand-scripted manuscripts.
Ian Atkins, a second year History student at the University of Portsmouth, wrote the following blog entry on his experience of doing a work placement at the National Museum of the Royal Navy Library for the Public History Placement Unit. The unit is co-ordinated by Dr Melanie Bassett, Research Assistant for Port Towns and Urban Cultures and Part Time Lecturer in History.
The Public History Placement unit, a vital part of any university career, is an option that is available to Second Year Students in the School of Social, Historical and Literary Studies. Encompassing a wide and varied variability of placements the option aims to give an insight into the types of careers that are available to the deserving History graduate. Skills learnt in this unit allow for opportunity into a wide area of Public History, which as described by Faye Sayer ‘is the work by historians to associate the past with the present and communicate such to the public’, in a way that is understood and managed by those who do not possess a professional qualification. [1] This is not to diminish the importance of the past, nor is it too dumb down the past, it is a way of integrating everyone in their collective history. The use of public history allows for further understanding of collective memory, a function that academics are at lengths to stress binds us all, as we have lived through the experiences and are able to learn from them. [2]
I undertook a placement that was based at the National Museum of the Royal Navy Library. A collections library based at the Historic Dockyard, Portsmouth. The library holds extensive collections showcasing treasures of over 350 years of seafaring history, focusing on exclusive collections of Horatio, Lord Nelson, service records, personal accounts and many other collections that have a relation to the sea and the way the British Navy dominated the oceans. [3] A museum of this type has a dedicated team of professional historians and volunteers, who ‘make a positive and lasting impact contributing to the industry [and] their support is vital to releasing the creative energies of the hard-pressed professional’. [4] The volunteers and staff are, as suggested, a vital part of allowing the public to fully engage with the museum and its artefacts.
When envisioning working in a place such as the NMRN, or indeed any institution, local or national, there has to be consideration of the way that that institution understands its sense of place. There has to be understanding that it is relevant, how that even after 600 years museums are still one of the most active tourist attractions available to the public. [5] With such a varied history themselves, the museum ultimately becomes part of the artefacts that they display. There has been, as of 1992, rapid growth and ‘change within the museum industry, throwing the previous assumptions of museums into disarray’. [6] This is where a unit dedicated to Public History is essential. It is a way of understanding those changes and the necessity to, as anniversaries come and go, understand the collective past. History is something that connects us all, a state we cannot escape from, if we don’t learn about it we will never learn from it. [7] It is for this reason why a placement unit is important, and why more students should take advantage of it. The work may be time consuming, and sometimes not what is always expected, but nonetheless it is stimulating and it is always interesting to be able to handle and read documents and artefacts, many over 200 years old.
The Placement allowed for skills that will be beneficial to an industry that is so fast paced that there is very little time to give full and professional training; an industry very much built on ‘on the job training’, and voluntary work is a vital component to the smooth running of such. [8] Collections management is a role that all those looking for a career in Public History should be prepared to do; it is the role most accessible in this industry. It also allows for interrelation with historical documents and artefacts that can only ever normally be viewed by appointment or behind glass. Public history is very dominated by government intervention. Progressive governments have ideas on how and what should be taught as part of the nation’s history. The addition or omission of certain facts, objects or other form in museums is testament to this. A public history placement allows for both hands-on experience in a museum or other industry, but in-class experience is also invaluable to the understanding of what is available within this field.
The unit is one that comes highly recommended, if either you have experience in working in the industry or work experience in general. This unit will give you strong and lasting insights into the roles that are available to you as a graduate. History is a complex and fulfilling degree to hold, it is a course that shows you have the skills to work independently, to spec, and within time limits. The Public History industry is made up of multi-facet levels within an organisation, to be counted and noticed in this industry you must demonstrate experience, the placement will give you the skills which can be used to further this experience. It is also an industry that can, at times, be quite demanding. There are a lot of things to do within the organisation and not nearly enough time to do them. The placement will allow you to be able to see this first hand. University is a bubble, one where you are naturally helped along at every stage, the work place is far more different and to gain this experience whilst still having that safety net of university is invaluable. The placement may also allow for continued involvement with your chosen industry which, as already explained, will not only lead to a long lasting relationship for yourself, but for the university as a whole. It is therefore noted this unit and its subsequent placement are both rewarding and thought provoking.
Notes
[1] Faye Sayer, Public History: A Practical Guide. (London: Bloomsbury, 2015), 22.
[2] John Tosh, The Pursuit of History 6th ed. (Abingdon: Routledge, 2015), 259.
[3] National Museum of the Royal Navy. “Home Page.” http://www.nmrn-portsmouth.org.uk/, last accessed 16 May 2018.
[4] Sinclair Goddard, and Stephanie McIvor, Museum Volunteers: Good Practice in the Management of Volunteers. (London: Routledge, 2005), 1.
[5] Eilean Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge. (London: Routledge, 1992), i.
[6] Hooper-Greenhill, Museums, 1.
[7] Big Think. “”Those Who Do Not Learn History Are Doomed To Repeat It.” Really?” http://bigthink.com/the-proverbial-skeptic/those-who-do-not-learn-history-doomed-to-repeat-it-really, last accessed 16 May 2018.
[8] The Historical Association. “Careers in History.” http://www.history.org.uk/student/resource/2914/careers-in-history, last accessed 2 January 2018.
Aimee Campbell, a second year History student at the University of Portsmouth, wrote the following blog entry on the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe for the Introduction to Historical Research Unit. Aimee discusses the process in which memorials gain meaning and serve as sites where past atrocities can be commemorated. The unit is co-ordinated by Dr Maria Cannon, Lecturer in Early Modern History at Portsmouth.
Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe
Heritage presents the past through a memorialised fashion; compromising of tangible memorials, rituals and ceremony. Heritage and memory can be political in certain historical contexts and conditions. [1] In this blog I shall explore whether the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin is successful as a site of remembrance with reference to the historiography surrounding debates on what makes a suitable memorial. As Sharon Macdonald has noted, “Heritage is deployed to show that the collective identity in question […] has not just been formed in the very recent past but somewhere further back”. [2] In the case of this memorial, for example, it is commemorating the Jews targeted by the Nazis, but this is a collective identity which was established far back in the past.
On the 12 May 2005 the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, designed by Peter Eisenman, was unveiled in Berlin, Germany. It consisted of an array of 2,711 rectangular stelae in varying heights, as well as an underground Information Centre presenting an exhibition about the Holocaust. [3] Henry W. Pickford argues that the memorial aligns itself with the idea of counter-monuments which, as suggested by Eisenman, refers to the fact that the horror of the Holocaust means that it could not be represented by traditional means. [4] Pickford displays this view because the site does not have any signage that indicates it is a memorial for the Jews murdered as part of the National Socialist regime. Geoffrey Cubitt writes that there is a desire to associate the idea of history with the idea of memory, thus suggesting that perhaps the only reason for the existence of memorials is for society to have something tangible which they can attach the past to or the suffering of a group with. [5] Therefore, the lack of anything signifying the purpose of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe raises questions as to the effectiveness of it as a memorial. However, Bridget Sion argues that the lack of a focal point acts to reflect how the perpetrators and victims were everywhere and cannot be pinpointed to an exact spot. [6] Walking through the memorial is supposed to be a disconcerting experience with uneven pathways and a feeling of isolation. The design also muffles the outside sound of traffic, creating an eerie atmosphere that only adds to the discomfort of the memorial. [7]
A key element to the memory aspect of the memorial is the underground Information Centre, the addition of which situates the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in between representational and non-representational forms of memorial design. [8] Without the Information Centre it would almost be too easy for people to walk through the stelae and have no idea of their significance to the many Jews who fell victim to the Nazi regime. The Centre fulfils the idea that memorials must accord moral recognition of the victims of the past and stress the need for society to process their past collective experiences; without the Centre Eisenman’s design would not be sufficient as a site of memorial. [9] This raises the suggestion that perhaps a heritage site dedicated to memory is only useful if its purpose is fully understood by those who visit, otherwise it is an injustice being done to those to whom a memorial is being set up to commemorate. After all, as stated by Sion, the core mission of memorials is commemoration. [10] It is also worth noting, as Sion suggests, that “memorials depend for their success on sensitivity to their immediate and ramified contexts” [11]. In the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe the sensitivity and emotion felt by visitors is more commonly felt in the Information Centre than when walking through the actual site. Another element that needs considering with this specific memorial is ‘dark tourism’, when people specifically travel to places that are associated with death and suffering. Germany is the second most visited country behind Poland when it comes to the Holocaust, and, within its first year of being unveiled, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe became a tourist magnet. [12] The very fact that the memorial is to commemorate an aspect of the Holocaust is exactly what draws people to it, highlighting how the purpose of a memorial is more for the present-day audience than those it is supposed to be commemorating. [13] Although the memorial was designed and commissioned with the intention of memorialising specifically the Jews who were victims of National Socialism, it has proved to be a place people can visit and share their grief, as well as pay their respects. As Joy Sather-Wagstaff argues, heritage is shared by groups of people as its foundations lie in collective memory, so a memorial is only efficient if it can unite a group of people in one common thought. [14] One of Eisenman’s intentions with this memorial was to have no sense of nostalgia or memory of the past, only the living memory of individual experience upon visiting the site. [15]
In conclusion, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is an interesting case when considering the process of heritage and memorialisation. Eisenman’s memorial is a “self-reflective contemporary artwork and historically referential monument”. [16] Traditionally, monuments are geared towards the production and extension of knowledge and the awareness of such as part of social memory. [17] However, if someone was to visit the memorial and not the Information Centre they would come away potentially feeling moved by their experience but their understanding of the Jewish experience would not be advanced. Alternatively, it is not always essential for a monument to be a source of knowledge. It can sometimes just be a place to deposit memory and thought. [18] Despite its abstract nature, then, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is effective because it combines both a simple and passive structure with the informative and moving Information Centre, which work together and complete one another to fulfil the embodiment of a memorial.
Notes
[1] Joy Sather-Wagstaff, “Heritage and Memory”, in Palgrave Handbook of Contemporary Heritage Research, ed. Emma Waterton and Steve Watson (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), 191.
[2] Sharon Macdonald, “Undesirable Heritage: Fascist Material Culture and Historical Consciousness in Nuremberg”, International Journal of Heritage Studies, 12, no.1 (2006), 10.
[3] Bridget Sion, “Affective Memory, Ineffective Functionality: Experiencing Berlin’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe”, in Memorialization in Germany Since 1945, ed. William John Niven and Chloe E. M. Paver (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), 243.
[4] Henry W. Pickford, “Dialectical Reflections on Peter Eisenman’s Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe”, Architectural Theory Review, 17, no.2-3 (2012), 424.
[5] Geoffrey Cubitt, History and Memory (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013), 30.
[6] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 243.
[7] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 246.
[8] Pickford, “Dialectical Reflections”, 421.
[9] Cubitt, History and Memory, 51.
[10] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 251.
[11] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 251.
[12] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 247-248.
[13] Henry W. Pickford, “Dialectical Reflections”, 426.
[14] Joy Sather-Wagstaff, “Heritage and Memory”, 192.
[15] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 247.
[16] Sion, “Affective Memory”, 249.
[17] Geoffrey Cubitt, History and Memory (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013), 26.
Cameron Meeten, a second year History student at the University of Portsmouth, wrote the following blog entry on a plate produced in revolutionary Russia for the Introduction to Historical Research Unit. Cameron demonstrates how the plate gives us an insight into the ways in which the Soviets tried to steer and influence ideological thinking in the Soviet Union. The unit is co-ordinated by Dr Maria Cannon, Lecturer in Early Modern History at Portsmouth.
Russian revolutionary plate designed by Mikhail Adamovich, 1921
Material culture is the use of objects created or modified by people which directly or indirectly reflect the ideology of those involved with their creation, as well as the beliefs of the society in which they were created. [1] This is evident in the Russian Revolutionary Plate, which was designed by Mikhail Adamovich, an employee of the State Porcelain Factory, designing plates portraying Soviet imagery for the use of the Soviet state. [2] Before working in the factory Adamovich was a revolutionary guard and created numerous plate designs glorifying Soviet leaders such as Vladimir Lenin and Leon Trotsky. [3] The significance of the plate is in its representation of the Russian Revolution as a triumph over capitalism; this is demonstrated through the imagery of the worker trampling the word Kapital. The Russian Revolutionary Plate is, then, a valuable source of material culture. It is an explicit example of the socialist revolutionary ideology of its creator, and 1920s Soviet society more generally, and thus provides an insight into the components of the ideology which were valued and brandished.
The plate was initially created in 1901, in the Imperial Porcelain Factory whilst Tsar Nicolas II was the emperor of Russia. Adamovich’s decoration was applied later in 1921. This can be used to show the intended statement of the design, as it demonstrates how luxury goods from the Tsarist autocracy were being overtaken and repurposed for socialism. The design of the red factory on the plate illustrates the Soviet rebranding of the Imperial Porcelain Factory into the State Porcelain Factory, symbolizing the fall of free market capitalism, and a heroic rise of a workers’ state. This demonstrates how consumer goods can be created as a form of propaganda. Indeed, this perspective is taken a step further by Samantha Oswald who claims that ornaments were created in the Polish Peoples Republic using the artistic design of socialist realism in order to forward the interests of the Socialist state. [4] Material culture can, therefore, be used to analyse political ideology through its representation in goods.
However, Richard Grassby has stated that cultural historians can place too great an emphasis on the importance of the symbolism of material culture, rather than the utility of the object. [5] It is, then, paramount to keep this in mind when analysing this source, as this plate had the purpose of being Soviet propaganda. This idea is corroborated by Alison Hilton who argues that the Soviet-produced porcelain plates were not designed to appeal to the masses, but rather act as communicative tools for the revolutionary ideology, as well as a means to convey a positive image of the Soviet Union towards the elite. [6] Therefore, the plate is more useful as a representation of Soviet propaganda attempting to drive societal ideology, rather than as a genuine representation of the ideology of the people living in that society. The plate was created before the regime, yet redesigned in a state-controlled factory with Soviet imagery to convey a positive message about the ideology of the regime. This demonstrates how the utility of the plate changed with the redesign, from a luxury commodity, into state propaganda.
Adrienne Hood argues that material culture is not a discipline in itself, but rather an investigation into cultural history using artefacts and relevant documentation. [7] The use of the Russian Revolutionary Plate highlights how relevant documentation is essential alongside the use of material culture. The origins of the State Porcelain Factory detail the nature and purpose of these plates, whilst in isolation they have face value in their representation of socialist realism as an art form and Soviet ideology. Researching why these plates were made and how they were used amplifies their value as a historical source; for we not only gain knowledge of their use, but the perceptions of the ideas they portray too.
One of the key debates among historians regarding material culture is whether it is created and defined by the market. This is highlighted by Grassby who states that early modern European societies incorporated economics and culture, with culture becoming a distributable commodity through which individuals measured their self-worth. [8] However, the circumstances of the existence of the Russian Revolutionary Plate demonstrate that this is not always the case, for in this instance the material culture represents the antithesis of a market itself. It can thus be argued that this is representative of the Soviet government-controlled market. This plate design was not created to be a distributable commodity; if anything its value is in the act of defacing a porcelain plate, which itself would have been a valuable commodity. Catherine Richardson argues that a European market allowed for cultural goods to be transferred between major cities in different countries, observing that these goods were important in “shaping individual and national identities”. [9] This demonstrates that the market is useful as an explanation for people’s interactions with material culture, and also indicates how societies acknowledged that too. However, this does not account for the historical significance of the initial utility and creation of such artefacts. The ways in which Western Europe reacted to Eastern material culture can be valuable in learning about Western European Society, but this tells us little about the material object, or the society from which it came. This is true for the Russian Revolutionary Plate, as focusing on it from a market standpoint loses the initial impact and utility of the object which is more valuable in the case of such an explicit depiction of Russian society.
To conclude, the Russian Revolutionary Plate is a valuable historical source, as it illustrates the tearing down of the old system to be replaced by socialism. However, whilst symbolising a revolutionary attitude, it is not necessarily reflective of Soviet society, as the utility of the plate is, as a form of Soviet propaganda, an important distinction from its symbolism. This demonstrates the importance of analysing utility in addition to symbolism. Whilst providing historical value through symbolism, greater knowledge can be extracted through its use with additional sources to assess true cultural impact. The key debate as to whether material culture is created and defined by the market can be questioned in this case, for the plate is created not in a market sense, but rather an ideological one. The creation of the plate design does not originate in an incorporation of culture and a capitalistic drive for profit, but rather an attempt to reinforce a socialist ideology. This piece of material culture, then, provides valuable insight into the ways in which the Soviets wanted to steer and influence ideological thinking in the Soviet Union.
Notes
[1] Adrienne D. Hood, “Material Culture: The Object”, in History Beyond the Text: A Student’s Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, ed. Sarah Barber, and Corinna Peniston-Bird. (London: Routledge, 2013), 176.
[3] Victoria E. Bonnell, Iconography of Power:Soviet Political Posters Under Lenin and Stalin (London: University of California Press, 1999), 47.
[4] Samantha Oswald, “Fired Ground: Warsaw’s History in Brick” in Objects in Context: Theorizing Material Culture ed. Stephanie Anderson, and Cierra Webster (London: Routledge, 2013), 50.
[5] Richard Grassby, “Material Culture and Cultural History” The Journal of Interdisciplinary History 35, No. 4 (2005): 591.
[6] Ian Wardropper, News from a Radiant Future: Soviet Porcelain from the Collection of Craig H and Kay A. Tuber (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992) 50.
[7] Hood, Material Culture, 177.
[8] Grassby, Material Culture and Cultural History, 596.
[9] Catherine Richardson, Tara Hamling, and David Gaimster, The Routledge Handbook of Material Culture in Early Modern Europe (London: Routledge, 2016), 22.
Adam O’Leary, a second year History student at the University of Portsmouth, wrote the following blog on the 19th century British Porcelain teapot for the Introduction to Historical Research Unit. In the blog Adam discusses the ways in which historians can use sources such as this to better understand society’s attitudes and assumptions in the 18th and 19th centuries. The unit is co-ordinated by Dr Maria Cannon, Lecturer in Early Modern History at Portsmouth.
Hilditch and Sons teapot c. 1825
British ceramics are some of the most common artefacts found on archaeological sites of the later 18th and 19th centuries, and have rightly been the subject of considerable archaeological attention internationally. [1] In this blog, the reasons for such widespread use of British ceramics will be assessed through British Porcelain teapots. British Porcelain teapots were a staple of a British middle-class household in the 18th and 19th centuries as one of a number of material items that emphasised a person’s wealth, class and politeness. [2] Due to Britain’s world influence as both colonisers and suppliers of industrial items, this British culture leaked into other countries all over the world. [3] Such British cultural influence on other countries will be assessed in the blog through their adoption of British Porcelain teapots as a fashion or status item. The strengths and weaknesses of using a material source to gauge such influence will also be outlined, along with the impact of British Porcelain teapots on British culture.
In order to analyse the impact of a British Porcelain item, it must first be briefly outlined how porcelain as a whole became incorporated into British society as a valuable material. Originally produced and imported from China, during the late 18th century Britain’s ceramics – including porcelain – were deemed to display “sufficient design excellence and quality manufacture.” [4] This modern style of quality production was distinct from the “traditional crafts of French artisans or the repetitive workings of Chinese potters” because it was aided by the “mechanical advances of scientists, engineers and rational men.” [5] As displayed in the source, British porcelain items were commonly trimmed with gold lines making them distinct to those produced by others and added status value. [6] Therefore, the mass production of porcelain teapots underscores Britain’s industrial and consumer power as they were able to take a product, which was originally Asian, and produce it at a quality and mass that Asian markets could not compete with. Moreover, this mass production of porcelain items, including teapots, along with the adoption of porcelain items around the globe and in the colonies, can be attributed to the influence and diffusion of British culture rather than Chinese culture.
However, it can also be argued that this 19th century British teapot underscores Chinese influence on British high culture, showing how Britain’s culture has largely been shaped through the exploration of other cultures. As mentioned earlier, porcelain items such as teapots were a Chinese invention, so just the adoption of using them would highlight an adoption of Chinese culture. Forbye, the design of the actual British teapot, also resembled that of the Chinese version and thus emphasised Chinese culture. This is made evident through the inspection of the source as the scene repeated on both sides of the teapot features a Chinese woman holding a bird cage and a Chinese man smoking a long pipe. [7] The adoption of, and value placed on, Asian creations such as these porcelain teapots emphasises that the British people viewed Asian creations and culture as elegant and beautiful. Such a statement would contradict the argument made by Edward Said in his critically acclaimed book Orientalism. Said claimed that Eastern culture was being viewed and portrayed in a negative light in the West. [8] However, this is in divergence with the source as the adoption of this part of Chinese culture would highlight Eastern culture as being valued in the West. Nonetheless, Said does point out the numerous works of Western writers such as Renan, Lane, Flaubert, Marx and Lamartine who portrayed Eastern culture and peoples as inferior to those in the west. [9] Therefore, this brings prominence to the importance of using material culture sources as either a means of cross referencing other sources or as a means to supplement another source. If material sources are left to stand alone the historian could easily misinterpret the significance of the source as the material source makes the job of the historian one of interpretation. [10]
The use of Porcelain teapots within 19th century British society can help the historian ascertain many aspects of British culture. Firstly, it accentuates the importance of status within society. The intended use of a teapot is merely to steep tea leaves in boiling water ready to serve. However, in 19th century British society it was used as an indication of wealth and class in addition to the primary function. This is supported by Crook who outlines how teapots were mass produced in Britain with different styles and patterns; the more stylistic the more expensive they were and thus wealthy British people would purchase the expensive more decorative pots in order to impress a guest who may visit for tea. [11] Additionally, the mass production of teapots and variance in price illustrates that the tea pots were targeted at people from various different social groups which foregrounds the expansion of the tea drinking culture into the working classes in the 19th century. Sarah Richards reinforces such an assertion as she states that in 1800 tea, coffee and sugar were accessible to most working people in England, which meant that the upper classes could no longer use tea drinking as a means of showing off their status but instead resorted to using teapots. [12] Therefore, material culture is useful to historians, as Karen Harvey highlights, to “discover the beliefs, values, ideas, attitudes and assumptions of a particular community.” [13] In this case the porcelain teapot brings prominence to the values and ideas of politeness and status within 19th century British Society while also giving an insight into the progression of Britain’s international trade, through the commonality of tea drinking.
Consequently, the field of material culture provides valuable details to the historian that can either reinforce or question other sources, and thus it should be regarded as a complementary technique within the conventional tool kit of the historian. [14]
Notes
[1] Aileen Connor and Rachel Clarke, “At the Centre of the Web: Later Eighteenth and Nineteenth-Century Ceramics from Huntingdon Town Centre in an International Context” in The Importance of British Material Culture to Historical Archaeologies of the Nineteenth Century ed. Alasdair Brooks (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 2015), 29.
[2] Sarah Richards, Eighteenth-century Ceramics: Products for a Civilised Society (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1999), 1.
[3] Penny Crook, “’Home’-Made: Exploring the Quality of British Domestic Goods in Nineteenth-Century Urban Assemblages” in The Importance of British Material Culture to Historical Archaeologies of the Nineteenth Century ed. Alasdair Brooks (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 2015), 307.
[4] Crook, “Home-Made”, 308.
[5] Crook, “Home-Made”, 308.
[6] Crook, “Home-Made”, 309.
[7] Catherine Beth Lippert, Eighteenth-century English Porcelain in the Collection of the Indianapolis Museum of Art (Indianapolis: Indianapolis University Press, 1987), 270.
[8] Edward Said, Orientalism (New York: Pantheon Books, 1978).
[9] Abdullah Al-Dabbagh, “Fortieth Anniversary Review of Books: Edward Said Orientalism”, The Sixteenth Century Journal 40, no.1 (2018): 29.
[10] Karen Harvey, “Introduction”, in Historians and Material Culture: A Student’s Guide to Interpreting Alternative Sources ed. Karen Harvey (Abingdon: Routledge, 2010), 6.
[11] Crook, “Home-Made”, 309.
[12] Richards, Eighteenth-Century Ceramics, 131.
[13] Harvey, “Introduction”, 6.
[14] Otto Sibum, “AHR Conversation: Historians and Material Culture”, American Historical Review 144 (2009).
