You Can Now Airbnb the Home of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Where the Author Wrote Tender Is the Night

Pho­to by George F. Lan­deg­ger, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

F. Scott Fitzger­ald start­ed writ­ing in earnest at Prince­ton Uni­ver­si­ty, sev­er­al of whose lit­er­ary and cul­tur­al soci­eties he joined after enrolling in 1913. So much of his time did he devote to what would become his voca­tion that he even­tu­al­ly found him­self on aca­d­e­m­ic pro­ba­tion. Still, he kept on writ­ing nov­els even after drop­ping out and join­ing the Army in 1917. He wrote hur­ried­ly, with the prospect of being shipped out to the trench­es hang­ing over his head, but that grim fate nev­er arrived. Instead the Army trans­ferred him to Camp Sheri­dan out­side Mont­gomery, Alaba­ma, at one of whose coun­try clubs young Scott met a cer­tain Zel­da Sayre, the “gold­en girl” of Mont­gomery soci­ety.

With his sights set on mar­riage, Scott spent sev­er­al years after the war try­ing to earn enough mon­ey to make a cred­i­ble pro­pos­al. Only the pub­li­ca­tion of This Side of Par­adise, his debut nov­el about a lit­er­ar­i­ly mind­ed stu­dent at Prince­ton in wartime, con­vinced Zel­da that he could main­tain the lifestyle to which she had become accus­tomed. Between 1921, when they mar­ried, and 1948, by which time both had died, F. Scott and Zel­da Fitzger­ald lived an occa­sion­al­ly pro­duc­tive, often mis­er­able, and always intense­ly com­pelling life togeth­er. The sto­ry of this ear­ly cul­tur­al “pow­er cou­ple” has an impor­tant place in Amer­i­can lit­er­ary his­to­ry, and Fitzger­ald enthu­si­asts can now use Airbnb to spend the night in the home where one of its chap­ters played out.

The rentable apart­ment occu­pies part of the F. Scott Fitzger­ald Muse­um in Mont­gomery, an oper­a­tion run out of the house in which the Fitzger­alds lived in 1931 and 1932. For the increas­ing­ly trou­bled Zel­da, those years con­sti­tut­ed time in between hos­pi­tal­iza­tions. She had come from the Swiss sana­to­ri­um that diag­nosed her with schiz­o­phre­nia. She would after­ward go to Johns Hop­kins Hos­pi­tal in Bal­ti­more, where she would write an ear­ly ver­sion of her only nov­el Save Me the Waltz, a roman à clef about the Fitzger­ald mar­riage. For Scot­t’s part, the Mont­gomery years came in the mid­dle of his work on Ten­der is the Night, the fol­low-up to The Great Gats­by for which crit­ics had been wait­ing since that book’s pub­li­ca­tion in 1925.

“The house dates to 1910,” writes the Chica­go Tri­bune’s Beth J. Harpaz. “The apart­ment is fur­nished in casu­al 20th cen­tu­ry style: sofa, arm­chairs, dec­o­ra­tive lamps, Ori­en­tal rug, and pil­lows embroi­dered with quotes from Zel­da like this one: ‘Those men think I’m pure­ly dec­o­ra­tive and they’re fools for not know­ing bet­ter.’ ” Evoca­tive fea­tures include “a record play­er and jazz albums, a bal­cony, and flow­er­ing mag­no­lia trees in the yard.” It may not offer the kind of space need­ed to throw a Gats­by-style bac­cha­nal — to the end­less relief, no doubt, of the muse­um staff — but at $150 per night as of this writ­ing, trav­el­ers look­ing to get a lit­tle clos­er to these defin­ing lit­er­ary icons of the Jazz Age might still con­sid­er it a bar­gain. It also comes with cer­tain mod­ern touch­es that the Fitzger­alds could hard­ly have imag­ined, like wi-fi. But then, giv­en the well-doc­u­ment­ed ten­den­cy toward dis­trac­tion they already suf­fered, sure­ly they were bet­ter off with­out it.

You can book your room at Airbnb here.

via Men­tal Floss

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free: The Great Gats­by & Oth­er Major Works by F. Scott Fitzger­ald

Rare Footage of Scott and Zel­da Fitzger­ald From the 1920s

Win­ter Dreams: F. Scott Fitzger­ald’s Life Remem­bered in a Fine Film

The Evo­lu­tion of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Sig­na­ture: From 5 Years Old to 21

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Hand­writ­ten Man­u­scripts for The Great Gats­by, This Side of Par­adise & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

All of the Rulers of Europe Over the Past 2,400 Years Presented in a Timelapse Map (400 B.C. to 2017 A.D.)

The­o­ries of pow­er, from Machi­avel­li and Hobbes to Locke and Jef­fer­son, have drawn their lessons from the tow­er­ing fig­ure of the Sov­er­eign, the prin­ci­ple actor in dra­mas of old Euro­pean state­craft. One philoso­pher advis­es cun­ning, anoth­er fear and awe. When we come to ideas of civ­il soci­ety based in prop­er­ty rights, we see the­o­rists argu­ing with pro­po­nents of monar­chi­cal divine right, or strug­gling, con­sti­tu­tion­al­ly, mil­i­tar­i­ly, with a mad king.

Maybe this sur­vey seems banal, passé, bor­ing, blah.

It can be dif­fi­cult for post-post-mod­erns to ful­ly appre­ci­ate the Sovereign’s once-crush­ing weight. (See John Mil­ton’s many defens­es of regi­cide and rev­o­lu­tion, for exam­ple.) Maybe, schooled in the work of Gilles Deleuze, Michel Fou­cault, George Orwell, Han­nah Arendt, Theodor Adorno, etc., we have learned to think of power—whether from below or above—as dif­fuse, inter­re­lat­ed, net­worked, spread across class­es, imper­son­al bureau­cra­cies, insti­tu­tion­al prac­tices.

The word “despot,” for exam­ple, sounds so exot­ic, an ossi­fied term from antiq­ui­ty. Study­ing the video above could bring it to life again, if dis­cours­es around cur­rent events haven’t. Sprint­ing through two-thou­sand, four-hun­dred, and sev­en­teen years of his­to­ry, this dra­mat­ic pre­sen­ta­tion names the names of every ruler in Europe, from 400 B.C.E. to 2017.

Despite its Euro­cen­tric asso­ci­a­tion with the East (as in the stereo­type of the “Ori­en­tal Despot”), West­ern his­to­ry offers hun­dreds of exam­ples of despo­tism. Put sim­ply, “despo­tism,” says Fou­cault in his lec­ture series The Birth of Biopol­i­tics, “refers any injunc­tion made by the pub­lic author­i­ties back to the sovereign’s will, and to it alone.”

Despo­tism, he argues, stands in con­trast to the police state, or absolute rule by admin­is­tra­tors and enforcers, and to the Rule of Law, in which rulers and ruled are both osten­si­bly bound by exter­nal char­ters and legal codes.

Watch the pro­ces­sion of emper­ors, kings, usurpers, tyrants…. Do we know the names of any of their func­tionar­ies? Do we need to? If Claudius or Con­stan­tine decreed, what does it mat­ter who car­ried out the order? When and where do those terms change—when do the names become a kind of synec­doche, stand­ing in for admin­is­tra­tions, par­ties, jun­tas, etc. rather than the sin­gu­lar will of indi­vid­u­als, benev­o­lent, enlight­ened, or oth­er­wise?

How many of these rulers’ names are unfa­mil­iar to us? Why haven’t we heard them? At what peri­od in his­to­ry does Europe become pre­dom­i­nant­ly ruled by oth­er forms of gov­ern­ment? Does despo­tism ever dis­ap­pear? Does it reap­pear in the 20th cen­tu­ry (were Lenin, Fran­co, or Mar­shall Tito despots?), or must we use anoth­er rubric to describe dic­ta­tors and auto­crats? (Does it make any sense to call con­tem­po­rary fig­ure­heads like Eliz­a­beth II “rulers of Europe”?)

Pick your own mode of analy­sis, explore the out­er edges and obscure inte­ri­ors of empires, and you might find your­self get­ting very inter­est­ed in Euro­pean his­to­ry (learn more here), or curi­ous about how “despo­tism” divid­ed, meta­mor­phosed, and metas­ta­sized into what­ev­er var­i­ous forms of rule the names “Merkel,” “Macron,” “Putin,” “Poroshenko,” or “Erdo­gan,” for exam­ple, rep­re­sent today.

via Laugh­ing Squid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es 

The His­to­ry of Europe: 5,000 Years Ani­mat­ed in a Time­lapse Map

Watch the His­to­ry of the World Unfold on an Ani­mat­ed Map: From 200,000 BCE to Today

Free: Euro­pean Cul­tur­al His­to­ry in 91 Lec­tures by Emi­nent His­to­ri­an George L. Mosse (1500–1920)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Short Fascinating Film Shows How Japanese Soy Sauce Has Been Made for the Past 750 years

A few years back, we vis­it­ed Hōshi, a hotel locat­ed in Komat­su, Japan, which holds the dis­tinc­tion of being the 2nd old­est hotel in the world, and “the old­est still run­ning fam­i­ly busi­ness in the world.” Built in 718 AD, Hōshi has been oper­at­ed by the same fam­i­ly for 46 con­sec­u­tive gen­er­a­tions.

It’s hard to imag­ine. But it’s true. Once estab­lished, Hōshi would have to wait anoth­er 500 years before soy sauce came to Japan and could be served to its guests. Accord­ing to the Nation­al Geo­graph­ic video above, a bud­dhist monk trav­eled from Chi­na to Yuasa, Japan in the 13th cen­tu­ry. And there he began pro­duc­ing soy sauce, fer­ment­ing soy beans, wheat, salt and water. That tra­di­tion con­tin­ues to this day. This fas­ci­nat­ing short film by Mile Nagao­ka gives you a good glimpse into this time­less process.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hōshi: A Short Film on the 1300-Year-Old Hotel Run by the Same Japan­ese Fam­i­ly for 46 Gen­er­a­tions

Ear­ly Japan­ese Ani­ma­tions: The Ori­gins of Ani­me (1917–1931)

Hand-Col­ored Pho­tographs of 19th Cen­tu­ry Japan

A Hyp­not­ic Look at How Japan­ese Samu­rai Swords Are Made

Female Samu­rai War­riors Immor­tal­ized in 19th Cen­tu­ry Japan­ese Pho­tos

Hand-Col­ored 1860s Pho­tographs Reveal the Last Days of Samu­rai Japan

Leg­endary Japan­ese Author Yukio Mishi­ma Mus­es About the Samu­rai Code (Which Inspired His Hap­less 1970 Coup Attempt)

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

The Art of Europe’s Forgotten Avant-Garde Artists Now Digitized and Put Online

Eco­nom­i­cal­ly deplet­ed but filled with the desire to pose ques­tions about the future in rad­i­cal­ly new ways, post­war Europe would prove fer­tile ground for the devel­op­ment of avant-garde art. Though that envi­ron­ment pro­duced a fair few stars over the sec­ond half of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, their work rep­re­sents only the tip of the ice­berg: bring­ing the rest out of the depths and onto the inter­net has con­sti­tut­ed the last few years’ work for For­got­ten Her­itage. A col­lab­o­ra­tion between insti­tu­tions in Poland, Bel­gium, Croa­t­ia, Esto­nia, and Ger­many sup­port­ed by Cre­ative Europe, the project offers a data­base of Euro­pean avant-garde art — includ­ing many works still dar­ing, sur­pris­ing, or just plain bizarre — nev­er prop­er­ly pre­served and made avail­able until now.

For­got­ten Her­itage’s About page describes the pro­jec­t’s goal as the cre­ation of “an inno­v­a­tive online repos­i­to­ry fea­tur­ing digi­tised archives of Pol­ish, Croa­t­ian, Eston­ian, Bel­gian and French artists of the avant-garde move­ment occur­ring in the sec­ond half of the 20th cen­tu­ry,” meant to even­tu­al­ly con­tain “approx­i­mate­ly 8 thou­sand of sort­ed and clas­si­fied archive entries, includ­ing descrip­tive data.”

Cur­rent­ly, writes Hyper­al­ler­gic’s Claire Voon, its site “offers vis­i­tors around 800 records to explore, from doc­u­men­ta­tion of art­works to texts.  The major­i­ty of works stem from to the ’60s and ’70s, as a time­line illus­trates, with the most recent piece dat­ing to 2005. This inter­ac­tive fea­ture, which has embed­ded links to indi­vid­ual artists’s biogra­phies and exam­ples of their art­works, is one way to explore the well-designed archive.”

For­got­ten Her­itage thus makes it easy to dis­cov­er artists pre­vi­ous­ly dif­fi­cult for even the avant-garde enthu­si­ast to encounter. Vis­i­tors can also browse the grow­ing archive by the medi­um of the work: paint­ing (like Jüri Arrak’s Artist, 1972, seen at the top of the post), instal­la­tion (Woj­ciech Bruszewski’s Visu­al­i­ty, 1980), film (Anna Kuter­a’s The Short­est Film in the World, 1975), “pho­to with inter­ven­tion” (Edi­ta Schu­bert’s Pho­ny Smile, 1997), Olav Moran’s “Konk­tal” and many more besides.

Voon cites Mari­ka Kuźmicz’s esti­mate that about 40 per­cent of it, most­ly from Bel­gian and Eston­ian artists, has nev­er before been avail­able online. Debates about whether an avant-garde still exists, in Europe or any­where else, will sure­ly con­tin­ue among observers of art, but as a vis­it to For­got­ten Her­itage’s dig­i­tal archives reveals, the avant-garde of decades past, when redis­cov­ered, retains no small amount of artis­tic vital­i­ty today.

via Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Dis­cov­er Euro­peana Col­lec­tions, a Por­tal of 48 Mil­lion Free Art­works, Books, Videos, Arti­facts & Sounds from Across Europe

Every­thing You Need to Know About Mod­ern Russ­ian Art in 25 Min­utes: A Visu­al Intro­duc­tion to Futur­ism, Social­ist Real­ism & More

Enter Dig­i­tal Archives of the 1960s Fluxus Move­ment and Explore the Avant-Garde Art of John Cage, Yoko Ono, John Cale, Nam June Paik & More

25 Mil­lion Images From 14 Art Insti­tu­tions to Be Dig­i­tized & Put Online In One Huge Schol­ar­ly Archive

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Ups & Downs of Ancient Rome’s Economy–All 1,900 Years of It–Get Documented by Pollution Traces Found in Greenland’s Ice

When we see sto­ries pop up involv­ing sci­en­tif­ic find­ings in glac­i­er ice, we might brace for unpleas­ant envi­ron­men­tal news about the future. But a paper pub­lished just recent­ly in Pro­ceed­ings of the Nation­al Acad­e­my of Sci­ences instead reveals fas­ci­nat­ing find­ings about the dis­tant past—the his­to­ry of ancient Rome between 1100 B.C.E. to 800 C.E. His­to­ri­ans know this 1,900-year peri­od through archae­o­log­i­cal and lit­er­ary evi­dence. Now cli­mate sci­en­tists have pro­vid­ed a trea­sury of new data to help sub­stan­ti­ate or revise schol­ar­ly under­stand­ings of Rome’s eco­nom­ic ris­es and falls, by mea­sur­ing the strat­i­fi­ca­tions of lead pol­lu­tion in a rough­ly 400-meter ice core from Green­land.

Why lead? “It’s a proxy for coin pro­duc­tion,” says Seth Bernard, pro­fes­sor of ancient his­to­ry at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Toron­to. Roman cur­ren­cy, the denar­ius, was made from sil­ver, mined pri­mar­i­ly on the Iber­ian Penin­su­la. “But these mines didn’t exca­vate pure sil­ver,” notes Robin­son Mey­er at The Atlantic. “Instead, they unearthed an ore of sil­ver, lead, and cop­per that had to be smelt­ed into sil­ver. This process filled the air with lead pol­lu­tion,” which even­tu­al­ly made its way on air cur­rents to Green­land, where “storms deposit­ed lead-taint­ed snow or sleet over the Arc­tic island.” New lay­ers formed upon the old, each one pre­served for pos­ter­i­ty.

In the mid-1990s, sci­en­tists began drilling Greenland’s ice sheet in the North Green­land Ice core Project (NGRIP). At the time, a team attempt­ed a sim­i­lar analy­sis on the lead lev­els and their cor­re­spon­dence to ancient coinage, “which used a sim­i­lar but rudi­men­ta­ry tech­nique,” Mey­er writes. But this study only drew from 18 data points. By con­trast, the new research “made 25,000 dif­fer­ent mea­sure­ments of the ice core.” Improved tech­nol­o­gy has refined the mea­sure­ment process, allow­ing researchers to detect “the pres­ence of 35 dif­fer­ent ele­ments and chem­i­cals at once,” and to tie their obser­va­tions to spe­cif­ic years, or fair­ly close to it, any­way. The chart above shows the fluc­tu­a­tions in lead emis­sions over the almost 2000-year span.

One of the study’s authors, Joseph McConnell, esti­mates the mar­gin of error as with­in one or two years. “That’s pret­ty good,” he says, “a lot bet­ter than what archae­ol­o­gists are used to, I can tell you that.” This allows the team of cli­mate sci­en­tists, archae­ol­o­gists, and his­to­ri­ans to match their obser­va­tions about lead lev­els to known his­tor­i­cal events. As The New York Times reports, “lead emis­sions rose in peri­ods of peace and pros­per­i­ty, such as the Pax Romana, which ran from 27 BC to 180 A.D. and dropped dur­ing the civ­il wars that pre­ced­ed the Pax and the rise of the emper­or Augus­tus. There were also dra­mat­ic drops that coin­cid­ed with the Anto­nine plague of 165–180 A.D., thought to have been small pox, and the Cypri­an plague, cause uncer­tain, of 250–270 A.D.”

The data, notes The Econ­o­mist, “pro­vide a new win­dow onto the work­ings of the ancient econ­o­my…. Not all of the lead trapped in the glac­i­er comes from sil­ver mind­ing, but much of it does,” and sci­en­tists can make informed guess­es about just how much. Many unan­swered ques­tions remain. “What we’d love to have is a doc­u­ment that says Rome had a state mon­e­tary pol­i­cy,” says Bernard. The empire’s spe­cif­ic eco­nom­ic poli­cies are large­ly a mys­tery, but the ice core sam­ples pro­vide a wealth of new evi­dence for the increase and decrease in cur­ren­cy pro­duc­tion, and ever-more refined tech­nolo­gies will allow for even more data to emerge from the pol­lu­tants trapped in glacial ice in the near future.

via The Atlantic

Relat­ed Con­tent:  

How Did the Romans Make Con­crete That Lasts Longer Than Mod­ern Con­crete? The Mys­tery Final­ly Solved

The Rise & Fall of the Romans: Every Year Shown in a Time­lapse Map Ani­ma­tion (753 BC ‑1479 AD)

A Huge Scale Mod­el of Ancient Rome at Its Archi­tec­tur­al Peak, Orig­i­nal­ly Com­mis­sioned by Mus­soli­ni

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How Women Got Dressed in the 14th & 18th Centuries: Watch the Very Painstaking Process Get Cinematically Recreated

We live in an age of con­ve­nience, and one get­ting more con­ve­nient all the time. Few com­par­isons between past and present under­score that quite so much as the morn­ing rou­tine. Hot and cold run­ning water on demand, prop­er­ly appre­ci­at­ed, can seem mirac­u­lous enough, let alone more recent devel­op­ments like the avail­abil­i­ty of high-qual­i­ty cof­fee on every city block. But con­sid­er cloth­ing, the change in whose out­ward appear­ance over the past 700 years or so goes along with an equal­ly dra­mat­ic change in use. We still wear clothes for all the same basic rea­sons we did back then, of course, but what it takes to wear them has dimin­ished to com­par­a­tive effort­less­ness.

These videos, one on get­ting dressed in the 14th cen­tu­ry and one on get­ting dressed in the 18th cen­tu­ry, offer detailed, nar­rat­ed, and cin­e­mat­ic looks at what the process once entailed — or at least what the process entailed for Eng­lish women of a cer­tain class.

The aver­age man in those peri­ods, too, had to deal with much more has­sle putting on his clothes in the morn­ing that he does today, but the female case, with its shift, stays, pet­ti­coats, pock­ets, roll, stock­ings and garters, gown and stom­ach­er, apron, and more besides, required not just a great deal of dis­ci­pline and con­cen­tra­tion on the part of the dress­er but assis­tance from anoth­er pair of hands as well.

You can find more such videos on the fin­er points of wom­en’s dress­ing rou­tines of yore, includ­ing fur­ther expla­na­tions of such ele­ments as pock­ets and busks, on this playlist. The social, tech­no­log­i­cal, and indus­tri­al sto­ries behind why it has all become so much less com­pli­cat­ed over the cen­turies has pro­vid­ed, and will con­tin­ue to pro­vide, the dri­ving ques­tions for many an aca­d­e­m­ic the­sis. But despite the enor­mous reduc­tion in the labor-inten­sive­ness of putting them on, clothes have not, of course, become a per­fect­ly sim­ple mat­ter for we dressers of the com­par­a­tive­ly ultra-casu­al 21st cen­tu­ry. Still, after watch­ing all it took to get dressed those hun­dreds and hun­dreds of years ago, many of us — male or female — might arrive at the thought that we could stand to put just a lit­tle more effort into the job.

via Boing Boing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What’s It Like to Fight in 15th Cen­tu­ry Armor?: A Sur­pris­ing Demon­stra­tion

An Online Trove of His­toric Sewing Pat­terns & Cos­tumes

The Dress­er: The Con­trap­tion That Makes Get­ting Dressed an Adven­ture

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

19th Century Atlas Creatively Visualizes the Expansion of Geographical Knowledge Over 4000 Years of World History: From the Biblical Flood to the Industrial Revolution

The age of the “uni­ver­sal his­to­ry” has come and gone. The genre flour­ished in times when it seemed pos­si­ble to assume a van­tage point out­side of time—to see pur­pose and pat­tern in thou­sands of years of human action. “It might be pos­si­ble,” wrote Immanuel Kant, “to have a his­to­ry with a def­i­nite nat­ur­al plan for crea­tures who have no plan of their own.” The view assumed by such a his­to­ry tends to exclude the cir­cum­scribed per­spec­tive of the view­er, or—in Ralph Wal­do Emerson’s famous, and oft-par­o­died, phras­ing, “all mean ego­tism van­ish­es. I become a trans­par­ent eye­ball; I am noth­ing; I see all; the cur­rents of the Uni­ver­sal Being cir­cu­late through me; I am part and par­cel of God.”

Few his­to­ri­ans today assume such a gods-eye-view, for bet­ter or worse, but with­out it, we would nev­er have seen the devel­op­ment of its visu­al ana­logue: the time­line map, an info­graph­ic form espe­cial­ly pop­u­lar in the 18th to the ear­ly 20th cen­turies, when thinkers from Schiller to Herder to Kant to Hegel to Marx to Weber pro­duced uni­ver­sal accounts of human his­to­ry that, to vary­ing degrees, pur­port­ed to account for vast his­tor­i­cal devel­op­ments as the move­ment of imper­son­al forces toward some def­i­nite goal.

From the per­spec­tive of the time­line map, civ­i­liza­tions grow nat­u­ral­ly from each oth­er like branch­es from a tree, or flow one into anoth­er like a river’s trib­u­taries, or pro­duce, as in John B. Sparks “His­tom­ap,” col­or­ful puz­zles in which every piece has its neat­ly-assigned place….

We’ve fea­tured sev­er­al such maps here, like the His­tom­ap and Eugene Pick­’s 1858 Tableau De L’His­toire Uni­verselle, both from the exten­sive map col­lec­tion of David Rum­sey. In the ver­sion you see here, we have a very unusu­al vari­a­tion on the theme—rather than a his­tor­i­cal time­line map, Edward Quin pro­duced in 1830 An His­tor­i­cal Atlas; In a Series of Maps of the World as Known at Dif­fer­ent Peri­ods.

The ques­tion, “as known by whom?” seems entire­ly rel­e­vant. The per­spec­tive of Quin’s atlas is god­like, gaz­ing down at the world through the clouds, but unlike Emerson’s trans­par­ent view, it does not “see all”—those clouds occlude the vision, restrict­ing it to indi­cate, as the Rum­sey col­lec­tion notes, “the expan­sion of geo­graph­i­cal knowl­edge over time.” You’ll have to read Quin’s text—avail­able here—to under­stand how he accounts for the chronol­o­gy and per­spec­tive.

The atlas begins in 2348 B.C. with “the Del­uge,” the myth­i­cal Bib­li­cal flood. Bib­li­cal his­to­ry inex­plic­a­bly gives way to the sec­u­lar. In a descrip­tion of the atlas by Don­ald A. Head rare books, this strange doc­u­ment “intend­ed to car­to­graph­i­cal­ly depict polit­i­cal change from the time of cre­ation to the year 1828,” when it reveals “the enlight­ened world in the midst of the Indus­tri­al Rev­o­lu­tion…. Divid­ed into twen­ty-one peri­ods… the clouds ful­ly dis­ap­pear at the nine­teenth peri­od: ‘A.D. 1783 at the sep­a­ra­tion of the Unit­ed States of Amer­i­ca, from Eng­land.” In his pref­ace, Quin explains his project in the typ­i­cal terms of uni­ver­sal his­to­ry, as illus­trat­ing “by the changes of colour the empires which suc­ceed each oth­er.”

Quin’s descrip­tion of the unchang­ing per­spec­tive he adopts might remind some mod­ern read­ers of cer­tain com­ic book char­ac­ters as much as of the vision of a god or a trans­par­ent, detached eye: “Like the watch­man on some bea­con-tow­er, he views the hills and peo­pled val­leys around him, always the same in sit­u­a­tion and in form, but every chang­ing aspect of the hours and sea­sons….” View Quin’s com­plete His­tor­i­cal Atlas, scanned in high res­o­lu­tion detail, at the David Rum­sey Map Col­lec­tion.

On our page here, see indi­vid­ual pages from the His­tor­i­cal Atlas. Or, up top, see an ani­mat­ed gif that lets you view all 21 maps in the atlas in chrono­log­i­cal order.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

4000 Years of His­to­ry Dis­played in a 5‑Foot-Long “His­tom­ap” (Ear­ly Info­graph­ic) From 1931

Ground­break­ing Map from 1858 Col­or­ful­ly Visu­al­izes 6,000 Years of World His­to­ry

10 Mil­lion Years of Evo­lu­tion Visu­al­ized in an Ele­gant, 5‑Foot Long Info­graph­ic from 1931

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Get the History of the World in 46 Lectures: A Free Online Course from Columbia University

When you dive into our col­lec­tion of 1,700 Free Online Cours­es, you can begin an intel­lec­tu­al jour­ney that can last for many months, if not years. The col­lec­tion lets you drop into the class­rooms of lead­ing uni­ver­si­ties (like Stan­ford, Har­vard, MIT and Oxford) and essen­tial­ly audit their cours­es for free. You get to be a fly on the wall and soak up what­ev­er knowl­edge you want. All you need is an inter­net con­nec­tion and some free time on your hands.

Today, we’re fea­tur­ing two cours­es taught by Pro­fes­sor Richard Bul­li­et at Colum­bia Uni­ver­si­ty, which will teach you the his­to­ry of the world in 46 lec­tures. The first course, His­to­ry of the World to 1500 CE (avail­able on YouTube and iTunes Video, or ful­ly stream­able below) takes you from pre­his­toric times to 1500, the cusp of ear­ly moder­ni­ty. The ori­gins of agri­cul­ture; the Greek, Roman and Per­sian empires; the rise of Islam and Chris­t­ian medieval king­doms; trans­for­ma­tions in Asia; and the Mar­itime rev­o­lu­tion — they’re all cov­ered here.

In the sec­ond course, His­to­ry of the World Since 1500 CE (find it on YouTube, iTunes or embed­ded below), Bul­li­et focus­es on the rise of colo­nial­ism in the Amer­i­c­as and India; his­tor­i­cal devel­op­ments in Chi­na, Japan and Korea; the Indus­tri­al Rev­o­lu­tion; the Ottoman Empire; the emer­gence of Social Dar­win­ism; and var­i­ous key moments in 20th cen­tu­ry his­to­ry.

Bul­li­et helped write the pop­u­lar text­book The Earth and its Peo­ples: A Glob­al His­to­ry, and it serves as the main text­book for the course. Above, we’re start­ing you off with Lec­ture 2, which moves from the Ori­gins of Agri­cul­ture to the First Riv­er — Val­ley Civ­i­liza­tions, cir­ca 8000–1500 B.C.E. The first lec­ture deals with method­olog­i­cal issues that under­pin the course. All of the remain­ing lec­tures are avail­able below.

Once you get the big pic­ture with Pro­fes­sor Bul­li­et, don’t for­get to vis­it our col­lec­tion of Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es, a sub­set of our big col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

His­to­ry of the World to 1500 CE 

His­to­ry of the World Since 1500 CE

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in April, 2013.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Big His­to­ry: David Chris­t­ian Cov­ers 13.7 Bil­lion Years of His­to­ry in 18 Min­utes

Down­load 78 Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es: From Ancient Greece to The Mod­ern World

The Com­plete His­to­ry of the World (and Human Cre­ativ­i­ty) in 100 Objects

A Free Yale Course on Medieval His­to­ry: 700 Years in 22 Lec­tures

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

« Go Back — More in this category... »
Quantcast