I think I know why the elusive connection between history and literature fascinates me. I wrote a paper last semester on the development of Nathaniel Hawthorne's conception of romanticism and the role of the author/narrator in the novel and in that genre in particular. It was part psychology, part literary analysis, part history, part knowing what to look for in the many, many wonderful pages of text I read. It's almost like my own brand of archaeology: I read letters he wrote, letters written about him, researched historical developments of the time and then read three novels he published over three years, back to back, and tried to see where all those pieces fit together.
I must say it is extremely presumptuous to say that I have my own brand of archaeology - that no one in the world has thought of it before and that I have really invented anything new. On the contrary, I'm sure one day in the future I will crack open a book of literary criticism or history, read a few lines and shout, "That's it! My idea! They stole it!" Of course no one will listen to me, the short girl who tries to write a few lines every once in a while. But I will know. Deep down in the part of me that I will never discover maybe ever, even in eternity, only I will know what it feels like to make the connection between history and story, between thought and page and between author and reader.
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