Berkin -
Boddy Interview
William Boddy Why don’t you describe your
experiences first as an academic historian and then as a historian
writing for a popular audience.
Carol
Berkin Actually, it was the reverse for me.
In order to defend my dissertation, I had to earn $1,000 so
I could register. And to earn the $1,000, I wrote my first popular
piece. It was in an American Airlines magazine, right next to
the “in case you get sick” bag. It was about women
in the American Revolution, and it earned me exactly the amount
of money I needed to defend my dissertation. So, I started with
popular writing and discovered one of the real truths that all
academics know: You can make a great deal more money writing
for the airlines than you can writing an academic book. The
dissertation I defended won the Bancroft Award and was published
by Columbia University Press, and I think I made maybe $200
from that book. So, right away I understood the parameters of
popular writing and academic writing.
 I
have, ever since, always combined the two, that is, I’ve
been deeply committed to the idea of bringing history in general,
the new social history, and women’s history not only to
academia but to high school teachers and elementary school teachers
and anybody on the street corner that I can round up. I’ve
spent a lot of my time doing that while continuing my scholarly
work. And though it seems that there is a great distance between
the two types of writing, in fact they enrich each other because
the popular articles and lectures were taken from my scholarly
research.
For
me it’s always been important to envision an audience,
someone real who is going to read your book. And so I’ve
moved back and forth in the academic and popular arenas. I’ve
written elementary school textbooks and high school textbooks,
and I’ve written scholarly books with thousands and thousands
of footnotes, and I’ve done collections, and I’m
feeling tired just thinking about all of this! But all these
share one thing in common: their purpose. That purpose is to
make history alive and interesting and to explain how people
in the past behaved, thought, and felt.
Boddy In your
early experiences working in television, did producers approach
you because of your scholarly work or was it because of your
role as a public historian?
Berkin A wonderful
woman named Carol Fleischer from California asked me to be
in my first documentary, on the Revolutionary War—emphasis
on war—for the Learning Channel. She had found me through
Women of America: A History, a scholarly book. The
people who were funding her intended this documentary to be
about the “shoot ’em up” part of the war.
It would be a manly documentary, and it was extremely daring
of her to ask me to come in and comment, even if I talked
about the kinds of bullets used. Including a woman talking
head went against the grain. In fact, what she asked me about
was what we might call the social history of the war—what
women did at Valley Forge, how people coped when men were
gone—which was something I’d written about as
a scholar for several years, and she was ordered to take it
out of the documentary. She said, “Absolutely not,”
and she left it in. So I think that this documentary, which
was probably seen by seven people, was really path breaking
because she stood her ground and she said, “You know,
there is a place even in a military documentary to include
issues that are social history issues.”
Boddy Do you
have any evidence of reaching people through popular media
whom you otherwise wouldn’t reach?
Berkin I can
get 10, 12, 15 e-mails a day from people after something has
been shown, many of whom just want to say “I really
enjoyed that. I’m so glad you did a documentary on X
or Y or Z, and you really made it come alive,” which
makes me happy, that is, the compliment to me makes me happy.
And so if there are people out there who are going to the
trouble to find your e-mail address and send these notes,
I’m assuming that there are many people out there who
are watching.
The
truth is that the TV stations keep pretty close tabs on how
many viewers they have. They do a lot of market research.
And over the past 10 years or so that I’ve been doing
this, the interest in historical documentaries, and particularly
the interest in my period in American history [early American],
has just soared. And I know this must be true because otherwise
they wouldn’t keep making them.
Boddy Why do
you think there is a new interest among the general public
in historical documentary on television?
Berkin People
have always been interested in history. Walk into any bookstore
and you’ll find that the section on the Civil War is
enormous. That’s probably why, for a long time, any
shows that were about history were aimed at the military history
buff. You know, they brought out the re-enacters who did the
Battle of Gettysburg, and everyone was happy. The History
Channel, I think, ought to be given credit for changing that.
When that channel started, it used to be jokingly referred
to as the “all Hitler all the time” channel. But
the History Channel really has expanded and moved into other
areas of history. They have been very kind to my period in
history, that is, early American history. And viewers have
come along with them. It’s no longer just watched by
guys sitting there with their lead soldiers. It’s now
watched by women and children.
In
response to the desire to have a bigger, more varied audience,
I think they produce the right kinds of shows, and I think
this spurs other channels to do the same thing. PBS and A&E,
which is the parent channel of the History Channel, and some
of the other channels are now doing full-scale dramatizations,
although they still insist on having handsome men play the
roles of people who were really quite homely. But the more
history-based shows there are and the better they are, I think
the more interest it will create, because the truth is, what
could be more interesting than people? History ought to be
the most interesting thing in the world, besides sex, because
it’s about human life. And if it’s presented to
them, I think many more people would rather watch a good history
show than another sitcom.
Boddy Is it
very different working on a documentary project funded by,
say, PBS versus the History Channel?
Berkin Absolutely.
The PBS documentaries are big-budget operations. They take
years. Liberty! and Ben Franklin were done
with actors, and they were done on location. These are two,
three years in the making, big budget and long term. They
have a lot of time to work on them, and it shows. They’re
wonderful. And they can get big stars like James Taylor to
do the music. They really cover all the bases.
The
History Channel documentaries, most of the ones that I have
done, are shot in California by a wonderful company called
MPH [Productions], who recently really hit the big time as
producers of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. MPH is under
contract to produce a certain number of documentaries a year
for the History Channel. With a time limit like this, they
don’t use actors. They use photographs and re-enactments.
You know, there’s always the scene where Revolutionary
soldiers are fighting Redcoats; documentary film makers use
that all the time. And their documentaries are quicker, they’re
less elaborate. I don’t mean to say that they’re
not as good, because they are excellent. They were extremely
successful with Founding Fathers and Founding
Brothers. Founding Fathers was the most-watched
show the History Channel ever had. And that success allowed
them a little more time to take on the next thing—and
a bigger budget. But I don’t think we should make a
comparison between the kinds of shows that are done on PBS
and the kinds of shows that are done on the History Channel.
Boddy What
are the differences in the range of shows you’ve done,
from being just a talking head to playing a greater role in
preproduction or engaging in substantive discussions with
producers?
Berkin There
are lots of levels. Most of the time, you just come in as
a talking head. They’ve already done the script, they’ve
already done the show, they’ve already done research,
and while they never tell you what to say, they do ask certain
prepared questions. But you can come in at the early stages.
Many documentaries are funded by the National Endowment for
the Humanities or by the government, and they need scholars
to be on the board of advisors. You review the scripts, give
advice, and suggest books that the writers could read and
suggest that they contrast one interpretation with another.
You tell them where in the script they may be misleading,
or where in the script they’re just plain wrong, and
that is much more rewarding than just being a talking head.
Today
I got an e-mail inviting me to be part of a brainstorming
session about new documentaries. That’s the most exciting
offer so far because I’ll have a chance to be present
at the creation.
Boddy What
generally has been the reaction among your professional peers
to your role in all this?
Berkin It’s
varied a lot. Some academics think that being a talking head
is belittling. “How could you possibly do that? The
story was oversimplified. They didn’t cover this or
that.” I don’t share that view. In fact, when
we did Liberty! a long essay was written attacking
it. And I wrote in reply, “This show isn’t a monograph.
This is a dramatization. If you get 200 people racing to the
bookstore to read a history book, it’s better than what
you were suggesting we do.”
But
that kind of reaction is the extreme end of the spectrum.
Mostly I get asked, “How can I get on one?” I’ve
tried to spread the wealth around to everyone I can. I recommend
people on all sorts of subjects outside my own area of expertise.
Mostly people think it’s good. They understand that
it increases the number of people who buy history books, who
are interested in history, who want to take history courses,
who want historians to come to speak to them. And so people
have been mainly positive about it. What’s funny is
that they often think that you’re making millions of
dollars. I was really asked after Liberty!, for which
I was paid $100 and a nice sandwich (they do feed you nicely—they
give you a big roast beef sandwich), “Are you planning
to retire now that you’re doing . . . ?” I said,
“Mmmm, no. Not on my $100.” You don’t go
into this for the money. You go into this because you want
to proselytize for history.
Boddy What
have been the reactions from your own students?
Berkin They’re
thrilled. It’s really interesting because a lot of my
students only have a vague idea that their professors are
authors and public speakers. The College bookstore was kind
enough to put my newest book, A Brilliant Solution: Inventing
the American Constitution, in their window. My students
came to class and said, “You wrote a book! I saw it
in the bookstore! That’s wonderful!” And you know
you’ve gone up in their estimation. And they have come
in and said, “I saw you on TV.” I think it makes
them proud that one of their professors at their school is
right up there with people from Harvard on TV. They see “Baruch
College” printed underneath my name, and they’re
tickled. They’ll say things like “You act on TV
just like you do in class.” You know, they can’t
believe you’re the same person in both places. One student
actually said to me, “So, we’re getting the same
thing in class that people are getting from you on TV.”
They were just delighted to think that it was the same.
Boddy Now that
you’ve had some experience as a professional historian
working on television history programs, are the shows easier
to develop?
Berkin Oh, I
have no intention of developing a documentary. I have a great
deal of respect for the expertise involved, so I don’t
intend to meddle. And certainly the technological aspects
are astounding to me. Middlemarch Productions let me come
and watch them edit 150 reels of interviews down to six hours
of television, and now when I watch the Academy Awards I know
that the editing is absolutely the biggest award that they
give because that’s where the real genius lies.
Sometimes
I think the folks in charge may make a bad decision. For example,
I did a program on the History Channel, The History of
Sex, and I did object to being squeezed in between Hugh
Hefner and Dr. Ruth. I didn’t think that was a good
slot for me. But otherwise I have great admiration for the
way professional documentary makers can master a subject,
find the graphics for it, and then turn it into a workable
drama.
There
are a couple of things that I tell documentary makers every
time they send me a script. And this may be because I was
born in the South, but I honestly don’t think so. They’re
very eager to pander to that old assumption when they write
about the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence
that declares “North good, South bad” because
the South had slavery. And I point out to them that the North
had slavery—nobody had abolished slavery when the Constitutional
Convention occurred—and that the slave trade was an
integral part of the economic prosperity of the Northern colonies.
Everybody was in this immoral system together, and, in fact,
there were not that many people running around in the North
saying, “I’m going to devote my life to ending
slavery.” But they resist telling it this way because
they think the other version will appeal to the educated viewers
they have who like to feel, “Whew, I was on the moral
side. I live in New York, I live in Philadelphia.” I
really hit them hard and consistently on that. It’s
part of my ongoing project to show the 18th century as the
18th century, not as the 20th century wishes it had been.
Boddy As a
historian or as a viewer, do you have a position on the ethics
or the authority of re-enactments, on the whole range of fictional
devices from straight documentary to docudrama?
Berkin Well,
when you’re in my period when there are no photographs,
no newsreels, no records of people talking, it’s pretty
boring just to keep showing shots of New York Harbor or paintings
of Ben Franklin. I think that when actors speak the actual
words of the historical figures they are portraying they’re
very effective. I like it a lot, but some people have criticized
it. For example, twice a year in Pasadena they have TV critics’
meetings: reporters from the local newspapers come from all
over, and you preview shows that you want them to pay attention
to and review. We showed Ben Franklin, and a guy
stood up and said, “How come you used Ben Franklin’s
words? Couldn’t you get a writer?” And Richard
Easton, who played Franklin in the documentary, said, “Can
you think of a better writer than Benjamin Franklin?”
So as long as what comes out of the mouth of the actress playing
Abigail Adams actually comes from Abigail’s letters
to John Adams, that’s very effective.
Boddy What
are your current projects or prospects?
Berkin I am
working on Abigail and John, which is going to be
a great project. I’m a women’s historian in one
of my lives, and I am very interested in seeing shows that
include women, especially as central characters. And I’ve
just done one on the presidents—the 10 best presidents,
the 10 worst presidents. And I just finished Ben Franklin,
and, of course, there is the upcoming brainstorming session.
Two of the ideas on the table for that session really excite
me: the Salem witch trials, which I think would be a magnificent
drama, and the life of Dolly Madison, which I think would
be a wonderful biography.
Boddy Can you
say a little bit more about the kind of power or lack of power
you have as a contributor to these programs, and whether there
have been circumstances in which you feel that your work has
been compromised?
Berkin You know,
when I wrote textbooks, people always asked me, “What
did they make you say?” And I always had to disappoint
them, because I found that publishers of textbooks had an
undue reverence for the authors. I mean, I could tell them
that England won the Revolution, and they would let me put
that in the book because I have a PhD. So I have no dirt to
spill there, and I also have no dirt to spill on documentary
writers. If they ask me a question that I think is inappropriate
to the historical period or if I think the answer required
is too complex, I just say, “Skip that one,” and
they always do. They’ve never edited me in such a way
that I say something I didn’t really say.
What
they often do, just as publishers often do, is tell you something
you say simply won’t fit the arc of the story, it’s
very interesting but it doesn’t fit anywhere in this
documentary. And I understand that. Some of the things I would
like to talk about have no place in the story they are telling,
and they really have to tell a story. They have to have a
drama, they have to hold people’s attention, and it
has to have a plot line, in a sense.
Documentary
makers have considerable integrity. They just work in a different
medium, and it has rules and time limits and demands that
are different from the rules that apply to the scholarly monographs
I write, and I appreciate that. I don’t ask them to
criticize my scholarly work, and I don’t criticize them.
So I don’t have any juicy gossip on this.
Boddy Do they
sometimes like to create an argument among historians by putting
your comment next to a contrary opinion?
Berkin Yes,
they have done that. But we have those arguments. I mean it’s
absolutely true that not everyone dislikes Thomas Jefferson
the way I do and not everyone adores Alexander Hamilton as
I do. And so it’s terrific for them to put two of us
in who disagree on a subject. People need to know that historians
disagree. I think that’s a critical point. So that has
never bothered me.
Boddy Have
you noticed students coming into your classroom with a different
sensibility or set of skills because of exposure to this sort
of programming?
Berkin I view
every documentary I participate in as a correction to Mel
Gibson movies. And I adore Mel Gibson, and if he’d like
to come and debate this with me I’d be glad to talk
with him. A movie like The Patriot is filled with
the most outrageous historical impossibilities—first,
Gibson is a rich Southern planter who grows corn. I mean,
he lives in South Carolina, the rice-producing capital of
America, and it never dawned on him to grow rice? He grows
corn, which he couldn’t sell to anybody if his life
depended on it. Secondly, his slaves apparently are not slaves,
they’re members of a union and they have pension benefits.
It’s just ridiculous. But what is most disturbing about
the movie is it puts an actor in an 18th-century costume but
lets him retain all his 20th-century sensibilities. Everybody
in the movie thinks and behaves like a modern person, and
the message that comes across to students is that the 18th
century is just like the 20th century except that the people
have different hairdos. This is the most damaging thing that
can be done. And it’s so powerful because it’s
on a big screen.
I
spend a lot of time in my class trying, in every way possible,
to explain to students that people in the 18th century had
a different view of the world: transportation and communication
were different, people didn’t think something should
happen instantly, they didn’t have the same kind of
information flow we have, they didn’t live as long or
in as good health. Documentaries can help reinforce the idea
that these people were not the same as we are, and that’s
what makes them interesting and valuable. And so I feel that
the more documentaries our students watch, the more they come
into class prepared to believe that I am going to tell them
about a time that doesn’t exist anymore. The students
who do watch documentaries are a little more savvy about what
to expect from history class. The History Department here
at Baruch has a big collection of documentaries, everything
from Eyes on the Prize to Liberty! to The
History of the Cold War. And we show them in our classes,
in part, so that we can train students to get used to watching
history in that form. They’ve become part of our curriculum.
Boddy Do you
think any Hollywood films, the historical films, have got
it right?
Berkin Usually
not. For instance, Barry Lyndon had the costumes
right, and the events were perfectly accurate historically,
but the attitudes, the view of the world was all wrong. I’ll
give you a better example. In the 19th century, there was
not a single wealthy planter’s wife, no matter how beautiful
she had been at 17, who had more than three teeth left in
her head by the time she was 30. Well, you can’t show
that in a movie, right? You can’t ask Meryl Streep to
appear on film with only two teeth. You can’t get actors
from the 21st century to do close-ups with pockmarks on their
faces just because 18th-century people had smallpox scars.
You can’t have short actors playing James Madison, who
was only about 5 feet 4 inches tall, because that’s
not macho, that’s not overpowering. Producers are going
to get Liam Neeson or Clint Eastwood to be James Madison because
that’s what sells.
I
do think that we have to fight an ongoing battle against the
images that appear. After Mandingo came out—a
dreadful movie about slavery—you couldn’t teach
slavery for a year, because every student who had seen that
movie insisted that they knew exactly what slavery was like.
So you had to spend a lot of time explaining that it wasn’t
true just because it was in a movie.
Boddy What
is it about television at its best that makes it a good medium?
Berkin Well,
it reaches so many people. The fact of the matter is, more
people have heard what I have to say about John Adams from
Founding Fathers than have read my opinions in my
books or heard them in my classroom. Television is intimate,
also. In Ric Burns’s brilliant documentary on New York,
there is a segment on the draft riots in New York and the
way they turned into a brutal race riot against African Americans.
I showed it to my class this year. There were students who
were crying. It’s so powerful, and it’s so intimate.
You really feel like you’re watching something real.
Television can do that best.
Boddy Were
there movie or television moments when you were growing up
that made you think about being a historian?
Berkin When
I was growing up, I wasn’t thinking about being a historian.
I wanted to be a famous actress and marry Sal Mineo, which
tells you how old I am. I grew up in Alabama, and, according
to the history teacher I had, the history of America was the
coming of the Civil War and the aftermath of the Civil War.
That’s all we learned. And in fact, quite literally,
when we walked out the door, she shouted, “And we had
two world wars, and we won them both!” So, history was
not exactly the liberating, broad intellectual experience
one might have hoped for.
So
I don’t think being a historian was on my mind at all.
But I did read historical novels and I did listen to operas,
which are often based on historical events, and I read a lot
of fairy tales. And so an attraction to what life was like
in another time was always very compelling to me. My mother
did remind me that because I was Jewish the likelihood of
my being a medieval princess was pretty small. But the thought
that people once lived in castles, the thought that people
once got around on horseback, the thought that people died
for honor as they do all the time in operas, that was the
draw for me to history. I tell my students that the only way
you can time travel until we get a time machine is to be a
historian, because you can go back and be able to imagine
what it was like to live in the third century or the 12th
century without ever leaving your chair. 
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