It's A Funny History: Reacting to Reenactors

Your average reenactor is not your average history buff. While other people will merely content themselves with reading up on the past, reenactors want to live it. In the past few years, I’ve been gently eased into the fun kooky world of reenacting. Though I steadfastly refuse to join any reenactment club on a permanent basis, I thoroughly enjoy speaking with them regularly. Don’t get me wrong, I love reenactors. But I keep reminding them that as a historian, I find my time better spent researching. After all, to do what they do, they need our help. Ironically, though, the reverse is not seen as the case by most historians and archaeologists. It is quite the paradox that despite needing public support, professionals in the field seem to distance themselves from reenactors, if not downright loathing them. True, I’ve met my share of compulsive-obsessive hobbyists that are so keen on authenticity that they end up oppressing their own peers (or obsessing over certain historians like crazed fans — trust me, these are most likely the reason most historians are turned off by reenactors). However, as a historian, I would like to reach out to my peers and say this: reenactors deserve much more credit than we normally give them. For example, if I was to be in a room next to a reenactor, a crowd would immediately mill around him, even if I’m the professional willing to answer its questions. In a way, a reenactor is a visual representative of the field. They’re easy to spot and their accoutrement breaks the ice between them and the general public. If you take time to talk to some reenactors, you quickly realize that even though they don’t have a degree in history or archaeology, they are just as obsessed with the past as we are. It’s not a matter of playing make-believe, as they are rather pejoratively known as doing. Rather, by emulating the past, they show it the ultimate sign of respect. These folks took the time to learn about the past and found the perfect way to apply their knowledge. Many amateur historians are created through this activity. And I’m not talking about medieval fairs where half of people are dressed as fairy tale creatures. These are fantasists. No, I’m talking about people who truly have a profound respect for history and will play according to its rules. Through reenacting, they find the perfect outlet to share their passion with people who, otherwise, never would have approached them or history to begin with.

Unfortunately, a lot of misconceptions about reenactors still exist. My favourite (worst) example is that of the 250th anniversary of the Battle of the Plains of Abraham in Québec city. In 2009, a massive reenactment of the year-long siege of the city was supposed to take place. Thousands of reenactors from both Canada and the U.S. were supposed to converge onto the arena of one of the most decisive events in North American history. However, this event was never to be. Political pressure crushed the commemoration. To understand why, one must remember that ever since that mournful day of September 13th 1759 (and more specifically the official surrender of Canada at Montréal a year later), French Canadians have been under British rule and later included in the founding of Canada. Like Scotland in Great Britain or Catalonia in Spain, French Canadians (concretely the province of Québec, the only officially francophone province) have had an ambiguous relationship with English Canadians. French nationalism is strong and general knowledge of reenacting is weak. Hence, when it was proposed to recreate the events of 1759-1760, the general public was never made aware that this was more than a onetime event: no one was told what reenactment is. Therefore, the most radical factions of the independence movement mistook the event as a celebration of the war, instead of a commemoration. I distinctly remember having long polite arguments with nationalist friends and having to chip away at their preconceived notions of the event. Only after carefully laying out that reenactors were doing this out of love of history did they understand that this was not an “Anglo” plot to spit into the eye of the Francophone population of Canada. To this day, I maintain that, unfortunately, the Battlefield Park’s comity had blundered and grossly misrepresented the event, using imagery which led people to believe the 2009 planned reenactment was an attempt to whitewash history (such as the thousands of pamphlets representing the event with a smiling Montcalm and Wolfe amicably shaking hands as if nothing had happened, that neither had been victims of agonizing deaths). Luckily, reenactors understood the stakes involved and walked away politely. Ironically, none knew the history and the politics involved better than they did.

This brings me to my main argument in defense of reenactors. They are the vocal faction of the historical community at large. In many ways, they do a better job than most historians at communicating history to the general public. Had they let reenactors explain the situation to the public instead of the park's administrators, this fiasco would most probably have been avoided. I don't recall them asking historians for their opinion either. Suprisingly, many only spoke up after it was too late. Historians often get so wrapped up academic jargon and conferences among peers that they often lose touch with the wider general public. Reenactors are part of this public, and then some: they are the ambassadors of the public. Should we not be as diplomatic and share our knowledge with them as eagerly as they are to share theirs with the rest of the world? I’ve made many a wonderful discovery thanks to reenactors. If some historians scoff at their certain lack of rigor, they certainly can’t fault them for a lack of vigor. To the critics of reenactors, I answer this: I lay blame on historians and archaeologists who are scared to bridge the gap and offer their professional perspective to correct reenactors’ methods of research, writing, and interpretation. We complain constantly that history is not represented enough in society. I see reenactors as another tool to transmit it. Among concrete examples I offer the Open House at fort Saint-Joseph where archaeologists and reenactors share the spotlight each August during this public event. Both are enriched by each other’s presence, but none benefit as much as the public, now made aware of its past.

This is why I took the plunge to visit the yearly Living History Show in Kalamazoo in Michigan last March 17th and 18th. Sure enough, members of the Center for French Colonial Studies where there with me, mingling and mixing with the countless reenactors. We had a terrific time nerding out even beyond the show and back at my hotel room, watching Destination Nord’Ouest and drinking wine, all the while swapping knowledge.

And sure enough, I couldn’t resist buying a new wardrobe for this summer’s New France festival in Québec city. This leads me to recount a funny anecdote involving my reenacting friends. For years now, I’ve been patiently buying pieces of clothes to create my persona for the New France Festival. However, it seems that every time, I buy a piece that is slightly anachronistic or not typically French. Of course, I’m always informed of the fact days after I bought the item when presenting it proudly to my friends. I am regularly the butt of such comments as “Oh, your fleur-de-lys are misaligned and don’t match period patterns!” or “Your three-point hat is British, not French!”. As much as I can agree with them in the end, I am only human and a humble Seven Years War historian, not a fashion historian. As such, I keep reminding them that it could be much worst: I’ve seen true horrors at the New France Festival, such as a pseudo-native wearing a dream-catcher stapled to his back, or a guy decked out in full cardboard armor. And so, as much as I respect their knowledge, Andi’s in particular (oh yes Andi, I know you are reading this right now), whenever they nit-pick my honest efforts to reenact authentically, I shout out: “Cardboard armor!”

Then again, I smile as I think in the back of my mind how much I admire their knowledge and their passion. And most of all, I value their friendship.