As a history major, I frequently ask my peers about their favorite historical era. I have chatted about various topics — from interwar political ideologies to third-wave feminism. But, most of my conversations have centered around Ancient Rome. Mystified by the Colosseum and the city’s republican ideals, I have always wanted to explore this magnificent civilization.
Upon further research, however, I discovered a disconnect between the words in my textbooks and the glorified praise found in my discussions. Ancient Rome is central to our social conversation, not only because of its cultural impacts on Western society, but also because of our romanticized views of its supposed glamor. However, when we romanticize parts of history, we perpetuate misconceptions about the past and struggle to analyze the nuances of each time period.
One reason why we romanticize the past is purely psychological. On an individual level, we are susceptible to the fading affect bias, which means that we reminisce more on positive memories than on negative ones. As a result, we tend to remember the good parts of our past while forgetting the bad ones. Furthermore, given the interconnectedness between memory and imagination, we often relive and reimagine our past, which can change our initial memory. We romanticize our past by excluding negative memories and perceiving former periods as more positive than they actually were.
The psychological reasons why we romanticize our own past also applies to why we romanticize history. When we recall lessons from elementary school history class, fading affect bias makes us remember the Silk Road and Plato and Aristotle’s debates, rather than the less glamorous details from our textbooks. We characterize historical eras based on these captivating, yet incomplete recollections and fill in the details with our imagination, which widens the gap between what we think happened and what actually happened.
The modern entertainment industry exacerbates this contrast. Seventy-three percent of surveyed people reflecting on their high school days said that learning about the past is easier when the information is presented as entertainment, such as historical fiction literature or movies. These forms of entertainment, like “Braveheart” and “JFK,” have questionable authenticity and often sensationalize history to gain views. With every new blockbuster, we redefine historical events by buying into these false narratives, further exacerbating the dichotomy between myth and reality.
The popularity of Ancient Rome exemplifies this split. Social media trends and movies like “Cleopatra” romanticize the empire’s gladiator fights and military conquests, demonstrating how mythological representations of this time period dominate our cultural imagination. Our romanticization of Ancient Rome has consequences. We perpetuate gendered stereotypes and whitewashed narratives of ancient empires by only highlighting the sensational parts of the era. When we overlook the contributions of women and non-Western civilizations, we reinforce patriarchal and Eurocentric historical narratives and apply the same skewed lens when thinking about current events.
Another major consequence is that our glorification of Ancient Rome obscures the nuances of this time period. For example, the pervasiveness of poverty, infant mortality and violence demonstrates this era’s low living standards for most citizens. Therefore, when we romanticize history, we struggle to analyze history critically and perpetuate incomplete narratives that become perceived fact.
Similar to ancient Rome, we also romanticize the 1920s. While the nation’s wealth more than doubled and spurred a robust consumer culture, images of flappers and speakeasies reinforce generalizations of universal affluence and exuberance. These stereotypes obscure the experiences of immigrants and people of Color during the ’20s, who experienced nativist sentiments and racial discrimination, respectively.
In addition to the fading affect bias, we are susceptible to reminiscing about the “good old days,” namely by employing “nostalgia narratives” as we consider more recent history. In a study that evaluated the impacts of racial change on white people, interviewed participants often discussed feelings or safety and order when they recalled their homogeneously white neighborhood. Especially during times of social change, some Americans seek solace from their past and recall a romanticized sense of former safety.
Nostalgia narratives highlight the contrast between what actually happened and what some want to view as their past, and the inadequacy of K-12 curriculums exacerbates this divide. Many school districts exclude key context to understanding Black history and experiences, which obscures the history of systemic racism in the U.S.
Given the consequences of romanticizing history, we must realize that sensationalized eras and the “good old days” were not as good as we perceive them to be. To paint a more accurate picture of the past, we should uncover the voices that popular narratives often obscure. We can evaluate the truthfulness of fictional media by reading memoirs and watching documentaries to gain greater awareness of the people and the unglamorous parts of an era. By seeking nuance, we disrupt our tendency to define decades with a single adjective and break our binary ways of thinking. We reconcile the popular parts of a period with people’s struggles, constructing a holistic and realistic understanding of history.
When we consider struggles of historical periods, we must also analyze the socioeconomic issues that people from marginalized groups have faced. While confronting past prejudice is difficult, we should understand that our romanticized conceptions of the past are often built on systemic socioeconomic inequalities. To further dispel glamorized narratives, schools can incorporate more primary sources from underrepresented groups and provide students with a more comprehensive understanding of systemic racism, offering holistic and authentic narratives from the start.
While romanticizing history attracts more attention to historical topics and makes for better storytelling, we can differentiate between myth and reality and enjoy mythical stories as purely stories. We do not have to shun works that are historically inaccurate, yet we must be mindful of our tendency to glorify certain people or time periods.
When we seek a more holistic view of history, we practice the same skills of critical analysis and spectrum thinking that we can use to evaluate today’s issues. Rather than swipe through a news post, we can read attached articles or watch reputable videos about the subject, considering current events from multiple perspectives. By practicing nuanced thinking of the past and present, we can remember the whole picture when we tell our story of the 2020s.
Sarah Zhang is an Opinion Columnist who writes about gender, race, and campus culture. She can be reached at sarzhang@umich.edu.