Faces of History: Historical Inquiry from Herodotus to Herder.

Donald R. Kelley. Faces of History: Historical Inquiry from Herodotus to Herder.

New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998. xii + 340 pp. $37.50 (cl), $17 (pbk). ISBN: 0-300-07308-9 (cl), 0-300-07558 (pbk).

Readers of this journal will find Donald R. Kelley's Faces of History: Historical Inquiry from Herodotus to Herder particularly interesting. Although he encompasses virtually the entire history of Western historiography in ten compact chapters, Kelley reserves special attention for the period from roughly 1350-1650, to which he devotes three chapters (as opposed to one each for Greek, Roman, early Christian, and medieval historiography). And in these three chapters, he leans more toward a topical than chronological approach, further distinguishing his treatment of this crucial period, which sets the stage for the eighteenth century and its offspring, modern historicism.

The "faces of history" referred to in the title are those of Herodotus and Thucydides, who at the very origin of the historical enterprise established its twin and sometimes conflicting aims of cultural inquiry and practical instruction. (Here Kelley has taken a page from his inaugural historiographical effort of some thirty years ago, the encyclopedic Foundations of Modern Historical Scholarship, where he distinguishes between a sixteenth-century erudite interest in customs, laws, and institutions on the one hand and a "social scientific" interest in historical models and laws on the other.) Of course, any attempt to typify the whole of Western historiography is bound to fail if pushed too far, but Kelley handles his distinction with an enviable lightness of touch, employing it more as a signpost than as a systematizing device.

In the long journey Kelley traces, the signpost points backward as well as forward. He utilizes the Herodotean/Thucydidean distinction -- originating with and coursing through the entire body of historical literature -- as a way of emphasizing continuity as well as change. This has the salutary effect of avoiding the Whiggish tendency to measure all historiographical efforts according to the standards of modern "scientific" history or post-modern historical criticism. Indeed, Kelley traces the modern sense of historical and cultural relativism back to the Middle Ages (129) and beyond, even to the Hebrews (76), and the post-modern "linguistic turn" to the influence of rhetoric on ancient historiography (68-69).

The role of change amidst continuity is nicely apparent in the pivotal eighth chapter on sixteenth- and seventeenth-century developments, provocatively entitled "The Science of History." Readers accustomed to traditional accounts of the rise of historical science are in for a surprise, for Kelley adopts a more classical definition of science: "In [the sixteenth century] history became, literally and conceptually, a science because it was organized according to a systematic method, oriented toward universals rather than particulars, and so raised above the arts." Obviously, Jean Bodin's Methodus occupies a pivotal place in this chapter, but Kelley also treats such diverse topics as the rise of historical criticism, the fascination with the origins of peoples, and the enduring appeal of universal history (which formed the backdrop for methodological concerns).

Throughout the book, Kelley seems to delight in taking unorthodox approaches to his subject matter. The Herodotean/Thucydidean distinction is only the boldest and broadest example of this tendency, which leaves its traces at every level of discussion. Thus Kelley examines the rise of national histories in sixteenth-century France, Germany, and England in the chapter entitled "Reformation Traditions," which deals with the rejection of all forms of Romanism, whether papal or cultural. And he exploits the topic of universal history, and its transformation into cultural history, as a means of unpacking Enlightenment historiography and the first stirring of historicism.

Kelley proclaims his unconventional approach when he concludes, "This book ends where most accounts of the modern study of history begin -- that is, with the rise of historicism" (273). But his discussion of historicism epitomizes the extent to which the great strength of the book -- the lightness of touch that enables him to signpost without systematizing -- borders on becoming a weakness. After a learned discourse on the many confused meanings of "historicism," Kelley attempts to capture its essence by stating, "The spirit of Herodotus presided over modern historicism" (268). Taken in context, this assertion makes perfect sense, yet it embodies a touch so light as to be almost slippery, one that risks sliding over distinctions in the very act of making them. The problem here has to do less with the substance than the style of Kelley's analysis, a style imposed by the two faces of history that, in their very omnipresence, subtly undermine the presentation of conceptual novelties. In the final analysis, thou gh, the coherence that Kelley's approach brings to a vast and intractable subject may be well worth the cost.