The arrival of History

It all sounded very prim and proper. He had went into the Archives, diving deep into the Realm of History. Phrased that way, it sounded like an adventure, the ideal of academic pursuit. The mention of the difficulties in opening the Archival Locks – made all the grander for the unwarranted capital letters – completed the Indiana Jones image to a T. This was the Archive, where History dwells

In reality, the Archive consisted of little more than a heap of papers – only ‘documents’ by feat of retroactive efforts – stuffed into a series of filing cabinets, without any sense of order or organization. Worse, this lack of consistency was apparent in the documents as well, the bureaucratic whims going this way and that seemingly depending on the mood of the person holding the pen at the moment. The same went for spelling, even when taking into consideration the fact that it all took place before spelling conventions became standardized

History, it would seem, was something best seen from a distance, lest it became a mere collection of ordinary everyday things. Up close, History became history, documents became papers, and the ancient sages gradually morphed into old fools likely to blurt out the darnedest things at the least opportune times, repeatedly

But it all sounded good. After the fact was polished for a while

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