Monday, November 9, 2015

Macro in the Micro

What a sad narrative Kierner weaved together in Scandal At Bizarre. One can’t help but feel the loneliness, desolation, degradation, depravity, and, to some limited extent, the salvation that emanate from the very pages that tell the story of Richard, Judith, and Nancy Randolph. Names, including their last, that I have never once encountered yet quickly became familiar with. The reader can’t help but develop a sense of intimacy with the Randolph’s coupled with the empathy the narrative demanded.

Kierner’s work is a perfect example of the form and function of microhistory. It tells the story of a single event, a single night, and the people of such an event. Then Kierner goes into detail about the importance of what such an event, the actions and repercussions of its subjects, and the ramifications in their entirety. When attempting to summarize the exact form and function of this book, I think some of Kierner’s closing words leave us with the best summation of how she views her own work.

“Some historians have viewed the scandal primarily through the lens of gender, interpreting Nancy’s tribulations in Virginia as evidence of the oppression and suppression of white women in the Old South. Others, focusing on the offensive against Richard and the eventual disintegration of his family, have seen the scandal as emblematic of the plight of decayed gentry in the post-revolutionary Virginia. One recent account, by contrast, emphasizes the adroit efforts of Richard’s defenders to use the newspaper and the courts to influence ‘an ever-widening “public”…to manipulate the public understanding of their behavior and their character.’” (171)
Kierner concludes, in her view of her own work, that:

“My account of the Bizarre scandal highlights all of these themes while using the Randolphs’ story to gain insight into complexity and contradictions of American society and culture in a crucial transitional era.” (172)

Scandal At Bizarre, highlights a compendium of historical themes that would take another compendium in-order to fully answer. Ranging from relationships of 18th/19th century Virginian gender roles, rising democracy/egalitarianism, financial death of the dried up landed gentry of the old world, relationship between Master/Slave and the power of gossip, honor, dejure representation of the law/courts juxtaposed with the defacto power of societal perceptions. I personally find gender and gossip/honor to be two of the most central themes in this highly turbulent era full of great events and great changes. Very similarly to how Jack (from class, not Jack Randolph) illustrated Toby Ditz’s article as a testament to the notions, themes, and viewpoints of the people at a crucial time in history, one which we are a product of.

Perhaps this is the function and form of microhistory. To relate a story, a narrative, that is easy to comprehend because of its dealing with relatable events and people. Perhaps, it is an offshoot of the historiographical trends of the Marxist historians. Focusing on the everyday, the small, the individual, the micro, allows us to build a bottom up representation of historical themes. I personally worry about culminating a microhistory with broad overarching themes that can easily be unfounded due to a small sample size of primary source material. But, from the instance of Kierner and the thorough nature of her research, I find such an endeavor to be well worth the work. Her work was illuminating and so many ways.

Perhaps the “great historical question” she is attempting to answer here is simply the effects of the micro on the macro. One night at Glentivar dictated an entire generation of Randolphs and illuminated the social standards and norms of the late 18th century. Nancy, Judith, Richard, and other’s lives were completely ruined by a small “mistake” in their youth. The books concern is not what happened, but more so what it meant. It detailed ruin that transcended the lifelong pursuits of Nancy, Judith, St. George Tucker, the courts, peoples of all walks of life, etc. Perhaps such a microhistory attempts to find the ramifications and implications in the small. Kierner ends her work with a picture of the plaque erected at the site of Bizarre and another in the South Bronx. Both are very topical and lacking any sort of depth except a summation of the largest of all events. No mention of the scandal or the lives affected therein. Perhaps microhistory, in this sense, is a tool to combat the necessary reductionism present in larger histories. Nonetheless, her work accomplishes a very similar goal to that of larger histories.


I definitely plan on using Kierner’s work in my paper on Gender History. I also imagine her work could be utilized in a number of different subjects which speaks to the importance of the micro on the macro.

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