And that’s when the real fun started.
The sight of the newly-found skeleton elicited both sympathetic and pithy commentary due to a severe spinal curvature and some wicked battle trauma scars (not to mention missing feet, lost to subsequent building on the site).
The remains were scrupulously examined and identified with the aid of DNA testing, environmental sampling and radiocarbon dating. Richard garnered international attention 528 years after his ignominious death when February 2013 press conferences and Channel4 documentaries Revealed All. Well, all except for answers to burning questions like did Richard REALLY believe that his brother was plight-trothed to Eleanor Talbot? And when are those nephews of his going to come in from playing outside? In addition to confirming the identity of Dem Bones, a well-intentioned but cringe-worthy, cross-eyed, heavily made-up facial reconstruction was also revealed. While certainly the product of skill and artistry, it did nothing to illuminate the historical record for me.
I’ve stayed out of the related online fray for the most part. I did snicker at the stretching of the boundaries of Internet wit, which now includes R3 memes having to do with parking lot humor and hide-and-seek championships. But any kind of serious discourse almost immediately degenerated into extremities and polarization of opinion, with seemingly no middle ground on any issues and historical over-identification dominating.
Lancastrian vs Yorkist has always been a trope in medieval online discussions, but another level of absurdity was introduced by fangirls so inspired by the comeliness of Richard’s newfound conjectured noble visage that they were able to make absolute declarations about his character. Not everyone was so irrational, but extremists are loud and loquacious, and they drown out the reasonable voices. It's become simultaneously embarrassing, frustrating and fascinating to watch what was once a niche interest become a mainstream preoccupation. Add to that the escalation of hostilities related to the intended formal re-interment of Richard's remains, and the scene is as appetizing as Bosworth Field must have been on 22 August 1485.
The current Ricardian brouhaha amuses me whenever I think of those who'd have us believe that history isn’t relevant in the modern era. But since I went through junior high school once already, I've zero interest in engaging with the Medieval Middle School Mentality that has prevailed in so many online discussions.
I don't pick teams when it comes to history. It's become so petty and ridiculous that I've given up reading commentary about Richard and his times, weary of being overwhelmed by the extremism and partisanship that pervades such discussions. Granted, name-calling, finger-pointing, and partisanship are simply the Way of the Internet when passions are excited, no matter the topic.
I do recognize that the excitement generated by these findings may bring new interest to historical fields. But as one commentator observed in The Guardian “Perhaps it is the awareness of the need to resist the impulse to identify with your characters that makes professional historians less forgiving than they might otherwise be of such enthusiasm, even while we make use of it in supporting our research and preservation of heritage.” I’m not a non-partial observer of these new chapters in Richard’s story, but I won't join any "I was into Richard III before he was cool" fan clubs, either, as that's equally juvenile.
I won't begrudge you your right to drool over a facial reconstruction. I'll just hand you a spit rag and leave the room so you can have your privacy.
Bowing out of the Internet fray and letting go my long-standing membership in Ricardian organizations doesn't mean my interests are diminished. This still remains big news for History Nerds like me, for whom passion about the past is normative. I simply have no interest in watching people exercising those passions against one another; the War of the Roses doesn't need to be fought all over again. I suppose Ricardian-related drama just proves that every niche interest has its battleground, and every Nerd will have his/her day.
In my day the term ‘nerd’ implied a certain level of social maladjustment tending toward introversion. That doesn’t quite apply in these days when ubiquitous social media allows anyone to be popular on the Internet. Unlike when I was a kid (*cue old timey music*) being a Nerd of any sort is far cooler and less isolating these days, regardless of the nature of your niche interest. You can always find someone to relate to, thanks to the Internet. Dead kings or anime characters, take your pick. And it’s all good.
As it is with Nerdliness, so, too, with the fascination for dead kings.
I believe that some folks will always be inclined to gravitate toward division and dichotomies of thinking, and away from compromise and negotiation. The media has always highlighted conflict, capitalizing on an apparently insatiable communal desire to watch each another implode and behave badly. Politics, reality shows, and sporting events all operate on that same voyeuristic, competitive spectrum to one degree or another.
And apparently so, too, does debate about a king dead some 528 years. Team Richard? Right.
In an article about a so-called Facebook War of the Roses, author Amy Licence's take-home message about the drama swirling around Richard III was that "....it is worthwhile considering what we can learn from history. If the bloody conflicts that ended Richard’s life teach us nothing else, let us conduct ourselves with civility, dignity and a sense of proportion."
Civility. Dignity. A sense of proportion.
I don’t go in for endless debate about issues, watch combative shows, or hang with people who focus on highlighting differences. And I really try to avoid the comments sections of news articles. I don’t need that kind of negativity. I want to understand and celebrate and clarify differences and distinctions, not widen the gulf between them by taking arbitrary sides.
What works best in communities is organization and cooperation, which happen when individuals de-polarize and learn to recognize, accept and celebrate nuances and ambiguities.
As is true of most powerful figures, Richard III was a complex character who was capable of both admirable and regrettable actions, of honor and dishonor. He was a man of his times -- which were not our times -- and knowing that, I have no problem considering his culpability for certain political deaths. At the same time, I also believe he possessed a certain integrity of spirit (albeit to the point of rigidity in some instances) that provided the moral underpinning for actions taken, as exemplified by his personal motto of "Loyaulte me lie." Looking at events of the distant past through the social filters of today and not knowing all the facts makes drawing final and accurate conclusions impossible.
At the end of the day, I am glad that Richard, the last of the Plantagenet line, will have a nobler resting place than under a car park -- whether it’s one marked by slab or a tomb, in Leicester or in York. Modern curiousity about his life means he’ll never wholly rest at peace, but so be it. Such is the fate of public figures; we think they belong to us. And in a way, they sort of do.
Richard III became king by exploiting technicalities of law (rightfully or wrongfully depending upon your point of view). But he failed to shore up and sustain widespread support for his reign. The reasons for that are complex, and arguably have as much to do with Richard personally as they do with national exhaustion and individual self-interest in the face of being asked - yet again - to take sides to perpetuate more than a century of civil war.
But regardless, the bottom line is that we work best when we work together. We've each got a measure of responsibility for making that happen.
