Ian Wood. The Modern Origins of the Early Middle Ages. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2013.
Reviewed by Melanie Maddox
(mcmaddox@me.com)
In The Modern Origins of the Early Middle Ages, Professor Ian Wood of
Leeds University writes with noble erudition about the time period from the
Fall of Rome to the early Middle Ages (AD 300-700) and considers how scholars
have viewed the role of the time period in shaping Europe. Part of the book’s
lofty goal is to respond to Charles Clarke, the United Kingdom’s former
Education Secretary (2002-2004). The preface references a quote attributed to Clarke
as saying “I don’t mind there being some medievalists around for ornamental
purposes but there is no reason for the state to pay for them” (vii). In
response, Wood vehemently disagrees and states that indeed pre-modern history
is important. Most particularly when one considers how it has been “exploited”
through the centuries to describe disturbing events or to prove or disprove
historical views (vii-viii). In fact one only has to turn on the evening news
to see terms like barbaric, medieval and crusaders being used to describe
troubles in the Middle East. This is just one way in which one can see the past
being ill-used (vii). Wood points out that the period AD 300-700 has been
important in arguments surrounding “aristocratic privilege” and “despotism in
the eighteenth century,” as well as “class conflict, exploitation by foreign
powers, and nationalism in the nineteenth” and “limits of Germany and
the nature of Europe in the twentieth” (viii). The preface goes on to
acknowledge that those who choose to write about history are not only
influenced by their understanding of the past, but also by their current
experiences and external influences. One example given of this was Michael
Wallace-Hadrill’s work on “the early medieval past and its Germanic barbarians”
and how Wallace-Hadrill’s “wartime experiences” might have influenced his
understanding of history (x). For anyone who has studied or taught a course on
modern Europe it is clear that the past does matter, because it is the basis of
“European identity” (xi) and is used as part of the construct to explain how
European states achieved and perceived the form they have today.
The book consists of sixteen
chapters that lead the reader through historical perceptions of the Fall of
Rome, the arrival of the barbarians and the use of this history beginning with
the eighteenth century. By the end of book, Wood has shown that our perceptions
of our shared European past do not only come from our knowledge of events in
the past, but that “historical discourse [also] comes out of cultural, social
and political circumstances” (327). Wood shows in these chapters of the book how
Rome’s fall and the arrival of the barbarians have been used “through debates
of the rights of the French nobility, the origins of democracy, the oppression
of indigenous populations … calls for religious revival, the creation of the
German nation, the establishment of German frontiers, and … the … search for
European unity” (327). Each of Wood’s chapters are densely packed with discussion
of scholars and their works.
Chapter one sets the stage for
the book by considering the period AD 300-700 and its importance to how
Europeans view their inheritance from the Roman past and the emergence of the
“barbarian kingdoms.” Wood notes the differing interpretations of political,
cultural and other changes during this time period focusing on three main
viewpoints: 1. that of the “Romanists” (those that focus on “the internal
history of the Roman Empire”), 2. the “Germanists” (those that focus on “the
contributions of the barbarians”), and 3. the Ecclesiastical or the “triumph of
Christianity” school (8). The chapter discusses how each of these three
viewpoints have played a role in different countries in Europe and have been approached
by different scholars. The chapter ends with an outline by Wood on what the
book will and will not consider, while he notes his aim of explaining why
differing discourses on the time period’s history have developed as they have,
by considering the “whole tradition of historiography” as it relates to the
three main viewpoints above (18). Keeping this aim in mind, the scholars
focused on in chapters two through fifteen are briefly mentioned below.
Chapter two starts the process of
reviewing the historiography by analyzing the role of eighteenth-century
authors like Henri, comte de Boulainvilliers and abbé Jean-Baptiste Du Bos in
the interpretation of the Franks and their role in the creation of the state of
France. Wood makes the point that “the French found it less easy to decide
whether to see themselves as heirs of Rome or Germania,” leading them to devote themselves to deliberations over
the end of Rome and the arrival of the barbarians (19). The chapter carefully
contrasts the work of Boulainvilliers and Du Bos, noting the support of the
former for the “Germanists” and the latter for the “Romanists”.
Due to the depth and breadth of
the information covered in chapters three through fifteen, I will only briefly
outline some particularly interesting points of scholars discussed in chapters
six and nine. One of the key points that emerges from this book is that not
only are a country’s political views influenced by its understanding of the
past, but also scholars’ views of history are affected by the political events
they experience. Chapter six starts with the historical period following
Napoleon’s defeat where the Restorationist François Guizot used his
writings as public instructions on history and Augustin Thierry employed his
knowledge of writing styles in the novels by contemporaries like Walter Scott
and the use of language to complete histories of “the oppressed classes” for
both the Frankish invasion of Gaul and the invasion of England by the Normans
(102 and 112). Both men’s approaches are not surprising given that François
Guizot was a politician and historian, while Augustin Thierry was a self-described
plebeian and historian of the middle class (100). Guizot and Thierry are just
two of the historians mentioned in the chapter that helped to move
mid-nineteenth century discussions into “terms of nation, class and race” (94).
Chapter nine studies the German
tradition of considering “language, literature and law” and their roles as
another available source for historians (154). The chapter places German
scholarship and its use, language, law and literature within the context of
German efforts to understand the past through nationalistic discourse during
the nineteenth century (154). The “patriotic” drive for the “promotion of
German history,” provided academia with one of the most well-known series ever
to be created, the Monumenta Germaniae
Historica. The chapter goes on to discuss that even though the Monumenta was a project to promote the
nation of Germany, many of the political elite were conservative in nature and
mistrustful of academia in general. The Monumenta
would not have endured to take its place in historiography without the efforts
of Georg Heinrich Pertz, biographer of Karl Freiherr vom Stein. Pertz’s
commitment to the early edition, as well as the work of Theodor Mommsen and
Bruno Krusch, helped the Monumenta to
reach its place in academia, but Wood notes that one should still be cautious
in assigning too much significance to the early editions, along with Pertz’s
place as the creator of something new in the way of collecting and editing
texts, due to the existence of editorial practice from at least
“seventeenth-century France” (159).
Chapter sixteen, the book’s
conclusion, shifts away from discussing academic debates on “the notion of
Europe” to portrayals focused on a wider general audience; this being done by
exhibits, books, television and other forms of media (310). Wood addresses these
strategies and their use to interact with a wider audience regarding the
debates over the “end of Rome” (312). Each of the outlets has introduced Rome’s
end in a less rigorous way, but also opened the door for non-academic
institutions like businesses and governments to have more of a say in the
history they finance (312). Wood points out that the “Movers and Shakers” found
in a 1999 review article by Guy Halsall could indeed be related to the “Germanists”
and “Romanists” discussed in earlier chapters. “‘Movers’ were those who placed
a great deal of emphasis on the impact of incoming barbarians, while ‘Shakers’
were those who saw the ‘tensions and changes within the Roman Empire’” (311).
This final chapter goes on to discuss some of the more multidisciplinary
approaches to the discussion of barbarian ethnicity. Exhibitions discussed also
show that in the twentieth century collaborative efforts across borders demonstrated
cooperation between the countries of Europe (including those of the east) in
communicating a shared past. One of the most interesting contributions in the
chapter’s discussion of museum exhibits and their role in promoting historical
imaginings of individual countries is the consideration of how exhibits
promoted by governments use the display of a common past to promote a united history
for their citizens, the European Union or even the “reintegration of Central
Europe into the Western European tradition” (325). The book ends by raising the
point of “policing the discourses;” recognizing that the history of both
objects and the early Middle Ages “have been interpreted and reinterpreted
through various discourses,” and abused by not only historians (whether amateur
or professional) but also politicians and archaeologists (327). Wood notes that
multiple discourses by both professionals and laymen are important to weighing the
legitimacy of current and past interpretations of history (329).
The Modern Origins of the Early Middle Ages is a tour de force of a scholar who has continually
provided academia with important works ranging from the end of the Roman Empire
to the beginning of the early Middle Ages. My biggest reaction in answer to the
book’s purpose of responding to the claim that “medieval history is purely
ornamental,” is that Professor Wood has written a book that will provide
scholars with a seminal work for generations to come, but will unfortunately swamp
the non-academic reader (i.e. those individuals like Charles Clarke most in
need of such an essential and insightful lesson).
Melanie Maddox
The Citadel
