An A–ZIn other words, history fulfi ls some of the functions per-
formed by religion. At one level, it provides a narrative within
which people can situate themselves: the way history is recalled,
researched and related is as much a story of the present as of
the past. History also tends to be the story of men and women
of consequence, and thus a fl attering and fascinating mode of
inquiry for those (the majority) of us who are not. But where
history’s religious shape is seen most clearly is in the way it
takes one out of oneself. It achieves this sense of personal per-
spective by retelling events that are simultaneously familiar
and distant. The familiar aspects allow us to empathise with
the past, to see ourselves in it. The distant aspects stem from
the radical differences of experience and existence that separate
times and places. The combination of the two aspects means
that we become strangers to ourselves in the process of learning
about it.
The romantic poets were articulate advocates of this religious
view of history. Take two poems of John Keats. In ‘Ode to a
Nightingale’, the ‘full-throated ease’ of the bird’s song provides
an intimation of immortality to the death-dreading young man.
But the creature, that was ‘not born for death’, provides a bridge
between the present and the otherwise unbridgeable past. ‘The
voice I hear this passing night was heard / In ancient days by
emperor and clown.’ Its song is a form of ecstasy because it
takes Keats out of himself in this way. Indeed, it is not just long-
dead persons with whom he thereby senses his connection and
disconnection. The nightingale enables him to empathise with
the biblical character of Ruth and fi ctional ‘sprites’ too.
History as a meditation on mortality is the central theme of
another of Keats’s poems, ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’. Much of the
poem describes the deities and mortals, the maidens and satyrs,
the priest and lovers pictured on the urn. Keats notices how
these fi gures stand outside of time and how blessed that frozen
state is. The lovers who almost kiss will love each other forever
because they will always be winning their goal. The trees will
never be bare. The pipers never short of song. In the beauty of