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Historical Action-Sentences

PART FOUR: ANALYSIS OF ACTION IN HISTORICAL REPRESESENTATIONS

21. Historical Action-Sentences

i. Narrative sentences versus historical action-sentences

Figure 6

In High Modern America, Arthur Danto once proposed that what is essentially

historical about historical knowledge can be grasped in terms of ‘narrative sentences’.393 Such sentences relate two events or actions, but with the benefit of

hindsight:

I mean to isolate and to analyse here a class of sentences which seem to me to occur most typically in historical writings, although they appear in narratives of all sorts and

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may even enter into common speech in a natural kind of way. I shall designate them as ‘narrative sentences’. Their most general characteristic is that they refer to at least two time-separated events though they only describe (are only about) the earliest event to which they refer.394

Irony, then, is central to Danto’s conception of the essentially narrative core of history – in the same sense of ‘narrative’ I used above. ‘Antonius Block made a fatal move’ is such a sentence, though it is from a history of medieval Sweden in 1348-9, when the plague hit, which Ingmar Bergman never wrote (figure 6).

If The Seventh Seal (1957) were history not cinema, Danto’s point about such a sentence would be that the history is rather like the film: each frame in it is on a reel with the others. This is close to the claim Ankersmit makes in a more complicated way in relation to Leibniz (see above). Bergman – for we will take a French view of things – knows Block will die and he knows that Block will lose his winner-takes-all game of chess against a personified Death. So, he instils the film with various subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, portends. The film is partly about creeping inevitability, for which the game of chess with Death is the central metaphor.

The Danto-type narrative sentence I have concocted, ‘Antonius Block made a fatal move’, links a particular move in chess – an action – with Block’s later death. Let us take it that this death is an action, of sorts. Clearly Block’sdeath happens later than the fatal move. What is tantalising and painful about the film is that after a certain point

Block knows of his impending doom, because his life is mapped on the chessboard. The point of the chessboard is that it is an artificially clear representation, although

sometimes this clarity may be available in life given a gloomy prognosis or a

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particularly tight corner. However, before I offer an extended argument in relation to Ruben’s Cambridge theory of action (see chapter 22), I want to discuss an alternative to Danto’s narrative sentences which better reflect the centrality of event-condition duality in historical actions.

Danto’s sentences might work for the ironies of fiction, as in The Seventh Seal. In the film, someone (Ingmar Bergman) knows what will happen, and this combined

foreknowledge/retrospection is an essential part of the aesthetic representation for us, the viewer. Yet, the examples from history I discussed in chapter 20, and the extension I offered for Ankersmit’s representationalism in chapter 19, suggest that more than the narrative, more than the linear placement (and juxtaposition) of two actual events, needs to be accounted for. In the chapter of Analytical Philosophy of History where Danto discusses narrative sentences, he offers a series of arguments for accounting for

contingency. This begins to look close to my concern with possibilities, but for Danto a contingency is still a singular actual event. This means that whatever he says, he will still be discussing the narrative relationships between two events. His paradigm cases all reflect this. My concoction ‘Antonius Block made a fatal move’ relates Block’s making a move in chess with his death, though not all Danto’s examples require a single agent to be involved in each action/event. For example, in ‘Talleyrand begat Delacroix and Delacroix painted the Mort de Sardanapale’, Talleyrand’s influence appears in the retrospective light of a later Delacroix’s painting.395 I do not intend to dispute Danto’s

position, for reasons I am about to give; but it might be worth noting that this is exactly the sort of retrospection which Hawthorn says led to anachronism in Vasari’s – and many others’ – interpretation of Duccio.

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To support the account I offered in relation to Ankersmit, I simply need to analyse a different sort of sentence to Danto. What emerges as essentially historical, on my account, is the dual functioning of actions as events in a narrative and conditions of a constitutive representation of a historical situation. My argument below is an

altnerative to what Danto says, not a direct competitor. Danto’s claim that narrative sentences typify historiography does clash with my parallel claim for historical action- sentences – which in turn typify the overall position I argue for in this thesis.396

However, Danto does not discuss any historiography at length in Analytical Philosophy of History so it is difficult to have an argument with him about this. I rely instead on my broader account. Nevertheless, Danto’s account may work for sentences of his narrative sort, regardless of whether they typify anything more general. However, I want to clarify the constituative role of sentences representing action in history.397 The

narrative and the constituative are dimensions along which historical actions function, simultaneously. The duality is constant and usually implicit in works of history. Yet, there is also an explicit type of sentence to be found in works of history, parallel to Danto’s, which I will argue make this duality explicit.

Analysing such historical action-sentences will give us a tighter grip on the logical structure of historical representations of action. Happily, this turns out to be relatively straightforward. What I say later in connection with Ruben’s theory of action provides a more detailed version which specifies more exactly the role of possibilities. However, analysing historical action-sentences will also let me demonstrate that my account is both catholic and agnostic about causal, intentionalist, and even teleological

396 Cf. Danto 1985: 143.

397 Danto’s claim that narrative sentences typify historiography does clash with my parallel claim for historical action-sentences – which in turn typify the overall position I argue for in this thesis: cf. Danto 1985: 143. However, Danto does not discuss any historiography at length in Analytical Philosophy of History so it is difficult to have an argument with him about this. I rely instead on my broader account.

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explanations in history. These are side issues from the point of view of my treatment of historical actions, and here I explain why.

ii. Paradigmatic historical action-sentences

The analytical contents pages of Frank Stenton's Anglo-Saxon England (1943) contains the following sentences as summaries:

(i) 'The overthrow of Penda meant the end of militant heathenism and the development of civilisation in England'

(ii) 'Victory of the continental party in 663 meant that scholars in Northumbria would be trained in contintental tradition'

Saying, as Stenton does, that such actions ‘meant’ something indicates their significance in history.398 I analyse such sentences (‘action-sentences’) in two parts:

ACTION < SUMMARY OF SUBSEQUENT POSSIBILITIES>

Or explicitly:

(i') ACTION (the overthrow of Penda) < SUMMARY (end of

heathenism/development of civilisation)>

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(ii') ACTION (victory of continental party) < SUMMARY (scholars trained in continental tradition)>

My first claim about this is that the summary clauses - the end of heathenism, the development of civilisation, and the projection that scholars would be trained in the continental tradition – do not refer rigidly to any actual actions. Rather, they refer flaccidly to a range of possible actions. To explain the action historically is to specify how it links into this range. But as we said above, the range is surely not as determinate as with dice, for example. So, as Hawthorn showed us in Plausible Worlds, possibilities here are the object of the historian’s judgement.

iii. Implicit historical action-sentences

Now, even if you accept the analysis I have just offered, you might think it only applies to sentences of the explicit ACTION<SUMMARY> syntax like the ones I just

mentioned. But my position involves a bolder claim that this structure is implicit

whenever actions are mentioned in history. To see how this can be so, compare:

(i) ‘The overthrow of Penda meant the end of militant heathenism.’

With Stenton’s next entry in his analytical contents page:

(iii) ‘Codex Amiatinus written at Jarrow for presentation to the pope’

Now, this too can be analysed, but explicitly it is just an action. Its explicit structure is

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So the type with the widest scope is ACTION, and the INTENTION serves only to specify the action. But it is in a work of history, so what is its significance there? I suggest unpacking it in the same way as with the overthrow of Penda:

(i’) ACTION (overthrow of Penda) < SUMMARY (end of militant heathenism)>

With (iii), this gives us:

(iii’) ACTION (codex written) < SUMMARY>

Or fully:

(iii’”) ACTION (codex written INTENTION (give to pope)) < SUMMARY>

But here the SUMMARY is harder to specify. It takes a real historian – and it might take them quite a long time. If we turn to the relevant page in Stenton’s main-text, we find various factors:

Earlier Irish scribes had developed what were virtually new hands out of the scripts of the texts which had comes to them from the Continent. They produced a characteristic ‘half uncial’ style of great beauty, which was particularly appropriate to the

reproduction of litrurgical manuscripts, and developed from it a pointed hand, approximating at times to cursive, suitable for the rapid multiplication of less solemn texts. English scribes of the seventh and eighth centuries could give a brilliant reproduction of the best continental writing of an earlier age. The Codex Amiatinus, written at Jarrow before 716 for presentation to the pope, is one of the greatest of all uncial manuscripts. But for all except the most solemn purposes, they normally used

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one or other of the Irish modifications of continental script, with the result that it is sometimes impossible to distinguish between the products of English and Irish

scriptoria on palaeographical evidence alone. Each of the two great types of Irish hand was firmly established in England within a generation of the death of Theodore.399

We learn that the codex was written in a style derived from Ireland, so it is to be treated as a (small) contribution to an ongoing relationship between Irish monasticism and the warlike English kingdoms. But its writing is also an action facing Rome more directly than the English kingdoms did themselves.400 This involves a situation comprising a

very complicated range of possibilities for what recidivist Romans, warring English, and monkish Irish might do next. There seems little point representing such a list within the semi-formal syntax I have been referring to. It would be better to read the rest of Anglo-Saxzon England. However, notice that in the full version (iii’”) there is reference to an intention – but that it only serves to specify the action.

v. Nesting causality, intentionality, laws and teleology

If we get this far, just having mentioned the pope I can say why my position involves being catholic – but only with a small ‘c’ for these purposes. In the Preface, I said that this thesis is not about causal explanations. Here is where I offer a short argument to say exactly why not, by contrast with Wittgenstein’s merely having insisted on the ‘half- baked’ character of causal talk in history.401 Not only can I be catholic: my picture can

accommodate any historical factors which connect with action – as I am about to show. I can also be agnostic about causal explanations. All I need to say is that the jury is out

399 Stenton 1971 [1943]: 179

400 Stenton 1971 [1943]: 180f. There is, of course, much more to say besides. 401 See Wittgenstein 1980: 62 – quoted in the Preface above.

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whether such explanations will be found. The same formal point applies to them as to the INTENTION specifying the action of writing the codex at Jarrow. Causal, lawful, or other explanations can be nested in the structure of my account as specifications of conditions. This leaves the overall structure of sentences containing such explanations as a historical action-sentence: ACTION<(SUMMARY)>.

So, for example, let us say that someone, somehow, makes an impressive historical discovery: a telos of history, perhaps given by God. This is not so far off what King Alfred dreamt when he was hiding from the Vikings in a Somerset marsh:

TELOS: there will be an English kingdom by 924.

This can be stated as a historical action-sentence so long as the ACTION is treated as a variable:

ACTION (whatever is done)<SUMMARY(English kingdom by 924)>

We can even turn this into something like a law by putting:

LAW: for all the times after AD 43, everything that happens in them will be drawn towards the creation of an English kingdom in 924 by this SPECIFIED ROUTE < x, y, z, n…>

This is more or less what I discussed in the introduction in terms of Hegel’s ‘matter at hand’ – there with Herakles and Caesar.402 The specified route rules-out all but one

402 The difference in Hegel’s cases of historical necessity is that they involve another layer of variables. This is because the precise route to the ‘matter at hand’ is not specified. This does not add anything of

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possibility in each case, but they are still contingencies. The law the route is nested in contains reference both to a telos (=goal) and a minutely specified route for how it will be reached. It is therefore the strongest sort of deterministic statement one could entertain. Even if such a law is available, I can still treat it in my terms. The question is, what is historical about the contribution of such a law? Well, it can be treated as just a special case of my schema for this. There are two versions available:

ACTION (all actions between 43 – 924) < SUMMARY (kingdom in 924)>

This makes clear that one final possibility is inevitable. From what I have said, I am committed to saying that this inevitable possibility provides a historical explanation for all the actions between 43 – 924. Another version is fuller but does basically the same thing:

ACTION (for each action x between 43 – 924) < SUMMARY (all the actions between x and the kingdom in 924)>

This is more exact but does not add anything further of interest. The upshot is that I can be catholic and agnostic because LAW can be nested just like INTENTION. I will show this for the simpler version, A:

A’ ACTION (all actions 43 – 924 covered by LAW (each leads lawfully to kingdom in 924)) < SUMMARY (kingdom in 924)>

particular interest, but for the sake of argument we would need to put: ACTION(for each action x before the fall of the Republic & for whatever set of intervening events Y between x and the matter at hand z)<SUMMARY(z, the republic falls)>.

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vi. Historical action-sentences: from historiography to action-theory

Any factor can be accommodated by nesting it in this way, from intentions to laws. What my analysis adds is what makes such nested explanations proper parts of

historical explanations. There is nothing historical about a glass breaking because it is fragile. But the fragility of the glass might well feature in an account of Eric

Bloodaxe’s rowdy behaviour at dinner in York – if, for instance, he is supposed to be hosting distinguished guests the following night and risks having nothing to serve their drinks in. His rowdiness could be studied by a psychologist, but this has nothing to do directly with history. Rather, his jumping on the table with his boots on has a

specifically historical significance as a contribution to the context he is in:

ACTION (Bloodaxe jumps on table)< SUMMARY (offends guests, looks stupid, looks strong, cements an alliance…)>

This can be recognised as substantively historical because it is historically wrong (Eric is likely to have had metal chalices). Nonetheless, put its wrongness aside for a

moment. As long as the psychologist, covering-law theorist, causalist, determinist (etc.) can only add nested statements on the ACTION side, or draw specific sorts of

connection between these statements and the SUMMARY side – and the rest of my argument in (1-3) works – then they contribute to the constituative dimension of possibilities in historiography as I have been describing it. This applies to real examples, such as those I drew from Stenton and the examples of medieval actions I described in chapter 19. The charter-making by the Duke of Sandomierz, for instance, can now be analysed – as I effectively already did – like this:

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ACTION(charter-making)<(monks retain profit, Sandomierz family reclaim it, monks return it as a gift…)>

Some of the examples in chapter 19, perhaps especially that of St. Francis, seem much more like the writing of the Codes amiatinus: they require such a complex SUMMARY clause that there seems little point in offering it in the semi-formal packaging I have been using. This, of course, is part of my point from part III: we often have to rely on oblique summaries of the possibilities in a given situation, rather than a satisfactory, fine-grained inventory. Following the possibilistic analyses of sociological concepts and historical judgements I offered in part III, in part V I will try to show that in

Montaillou the purpose of such concepts and judgements is to grapple with the right side of historical action-sentences – the SUMMARIES. This is what makes

sociological concepts relative to actions: terms like ‘city’, ‘war’, or ‘kingdom’ are themselves summaries of patterns of possibilities.

We have not quite reached checkmate. I need to show how the basic structure of

historical action-sentences exposed here can help us offer a theory of action. In the next chapter (22), I try to make it even clearer how actions are, as it were, open enough to possibilities to make them link into the patterns of possibilities introduced by such concepts and judgements. To do this, I will take an existing theory of action per se

which seems somewhat counterintuitive, and then show that it makes more sense as a theory of historical action along a constituative dimension of possibilities.

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