Passage A:Readers, like writers, need to search for answers.
Part of the joy of reading is in being surprised, but
academic historians leave little to the imagination. The
perniciousness of the historiographic approach became
(5) fully evident to me when I started teaching. Historians
require undergraduates to read scholarly monographs
that sap the vitality of history; they visit on students
what was visited on them in graduate school. They
assign books with formulaic arguments that transform
(10) history into an abstract debate that would have been
unfathomable to those who lived in the past. Aimed so
squarely at the head, such books cannot stimulate
students who yearn to connect to history emotionally as
well as intellectually.
(15) In an effort to address this problem, some historians
have begun to rediscover stories. It has even become
something of a fad within the profession. This year, the
American Historical Association chose as the theme
for its annual conference some putative connection to
(20) storytelling: “Practices of Historical Narrative.”
Predictably, historians responded by adding the word
“narrative” to their titles and presenting papers at
sessions on “Oral History and the Narrative of Class
Identity,” and “Meaning and Time: The Problem of
(25) Historical Narrative.” But it was still historiography.
intended only for other academics. At meetings of
historians, we still encounter very few historians telling
stories or moving audiences to smiles, chills, or tears.
Passage BWriting is at the heart of the lawyer’s craft, and so,
(30) like it or not, we who teach the law inevitably teach
aspiring lawyers how lawyers write. We do this in a few
stand-alone courses and, to a greater extent, through the
constraints that we impose on their writing throughout
the curriculum. Legal writing, because of the purposes
(35) it serves, is necessarily ruled by linear logic, creating a
path without diversions, surprises, or reversals.
Conformity is a virtue, creativity suspect, humor
forbidden, and voice mute.
Lawyers write as they see other lawyers write, and,
(40) influenced by education, profession, economic
constraints, and perceived self-interest, they too often
write badly. Perhaps the currently fashionable call for
attention to narrative in legal education could have an
effect on this. It is not yet exactly clear what role
(45) narrative should play in the law, but it is nonetheless
true that every case has at its heart a story—of real
events and people, of concerns, misfortunes, conflicts,
feelings. But because legal analysis strips the human
narrative content from the abstract, canonical legal
(50) form of the case, law students learn to act as if there
is no such story.
It may well turn out that some of the terminology
and public rhetoric of this potentially subversive
movement toward attention to narrative will find its
(55) way into the law curriculum, but without producing
corresponding changes in how legal writing is actually
taught or in how our future colleagues will write. Still,
even mere awareness of the value of narrative could
perhaps serve as an important corrective.