Between the lines.
Fireman, Janet
People can read or study the same material or witness the same
event but emerge with radically distinct interpretations. Reading
between the lines denotes perceiving or detecting an unexpressed
meaning. In this issue, Alex Wagner Lough's essay, "Henry
George, Frederick Jackson Turner, and the 'Closing of the American
Frontier,'" observes that "both George and Turner drew
... from the same historians, economists, and philosophers to tackle the
issues before them." Each grappled with the value of land and the
future of its ownership, a subject of enormous interest in California
and the rest of the nation by the late nineteenth century. "For
Turner," Lough notes, "the disappearance of the frontier
signaled the end of the era of American Exceptionalism, largely defined
by its independence from the class-based agitations facing Europe,"
while for George, landlordism--the ownership of land--was the basic
determinant of a people's and a nation's morality and
well-being.
Haunting views of "Manzanar in 1973," photographs made by
James S. Brust, depict the derelict and forsaken War Relocation Center
in Owens Valley where more than 10,000 Japanese American citizens and
resident aliens had been confined thirty years earlier. Brust had sped
past the unmarked and disremembered site many times before a book
identifying the place as a "ghost town" triggered his
curiosity. His photo essay of the space he encountered--eerie,
evocative, and consequential ground--documents the remnants of the
abandoned site, a restoration of memory accomplished by a growing number
of individuals and organizations in the following years. That lonely,
forgotten place now welcomes the public as the Manzanar National
Historic Site, and Brust's images now are part of the Manzanar
archives.
The title of Albert L. Hurtado's essay, "False
Accusations: Herbert Bolton, Jews, and the Loyalty Oath at Berkeley,
1920-1950," conveys expectations of revelations about the longtime
chairman of the history department and director of the Bancroft Library
at the University of California, Berkeley. Famous for founding the
school of Spanish Borderlands history, publishing prolifically, and
training record numbers of graduate students, Bolton is accused of
"holding anti-Semitic attitudes and keeping Jews out of" his
department. Hurtado expunges this charge through painstaking research
and careful analysis over twenty-five years. Inserting his reactions to
and ruminations over discoveries among Bolton's profuse papers, and
piecing together the clues he found among the professor's multiple
correspondents, Hurtado exposes the historian's methodology while
constructing a convincing argument to clear Bolton's name once and
for all.
Connecting the unexpected, recovering the disremembered, and
correcting falsehoods: The essays in this issue display meticulous
reading between the lines.