The History Boys Page #6

Say Hardy's writing

about the Zulu Wars.

Or later, or...

The Boer War, possibly.

And these were the first campaigns

when soldiers, common soldiers,

were commemorated.

The names of the dead were recorded

and inscribed on war memorials.

Before this, soldiers - private soldiers -

were all unknown soldiers.

And so far from being revered,

there was a firm in the 19th century

in Yorkshire, of course,

which swept up their bones

from the battlefields of Europe

in order to grind them into fertilizer.

So, thrown into a common grave

though he may be,

he's still Hodge, the Drummer.

Lost boy though he is,

on the far side of the world...

he still has a name.

How old was he?

If he was a drummer he'd be a boy soldier.

Not even as old as you, probably.

- No, Hardy.

- Oh, how old was Hardy?

Oh, erm. When he

wrote this... about 60.

My age, I suppose.

A saddish life,

though not unappreciated.

"Uncoffined" is a typical Hardy usage.

It's a compound adjective,

formed by putting "un" in front of the noun.

Or verb, of course.

Unkissed,

unrejoicing,

unconfessed,

unembraced.

(stammers) It's a turn of phrase

that brings with it

a sense of not sharing.

Of being out of it, whether

because of diffidence or shyness.

But a holding back.

Not being in the swim.

(stutters) Can you see that?

Yes, sir.

I felt that a bit.

The best moments in reading

are when you come across something -

a thought, a feeling,

a way of looking at things -

that you'd thought special,

particular to you,

and here it is,

set down by someone else.

A person you've never met,

maybe even someone long dead.

And... (stammers)

it's as if a hand...

has come out... and taken yours.

Let's just have that last verse again

and I'll let you go.

"Yet portion of that unknown plain

Will Hodge forever be;

His homely Northern breast and brain

Grow to some Southern tree,

And strange-eyed constellations reign

His stars eternally."

(engine roars)

(Felix) Shall I tell you what is wrong

with Hector as a teacher?

And it isn't that he doesn't

produce results - he does.

But they're unpredictable

and unquantifiable.

And in the current educational climate,

that is of no use.

I mean, there's inspiration, certainly.

But how do I quantify that?

And I heard one child

singing yesterday morning,

and on inquiry I find that his pupils

know all the words of

"When I'm Cleaning Windows".

George Formby, and Gracie Fields.

Dorothy, what has Gracie Fields

got to do with anything?

So, the upshot is... I'm glad

he handled his pupils' balls

because that at least

I can categorize.

It's a reason for his going

no one can dispute.

You didn't know.

Not that, no.

(sighs) I assumed you knew.

- He handled the boys' balls?

- I don't want to spell it out.

You've been married yourself.

You know the form.

And, to be fair, I think it was

more appreciative than investigatory.

But it's... inexcusable, nevertheless.

No. No, it's to everyone's benefit

that he should go.

As soon as possible.

Sir? Can I say something, sir?

Well, we've got the most important exam

of our lives coming up

and we're just sat here reading literature.

Leaving that aside for the moment,

there's something I have to tell you.

We know all that, sir.

- How do you know?

- About sharing classes with Mr. Irwin, sir.

- No, no, not that.

- Why is that, sir?

(sighs) It's a question

of timetabling, apparently.

No, no, this is... something else.

Does that mean your lessons

will be more like Mr. Irwin's?

- More use, sir?

- Less farting about?

Hush, boys, hush.

Can't you see? I'm not in the mood.

What mood is that, sir? The subjunctive?

The mood of possibility?

Get on with some work. Read.

That's what we're saying.

There's no time for reading!

- Can't you just give us the gist, sir?

- Precis it, sir. Like Mr. Irwin does.

Just the outline, sir. Then we can pretend.

- Pretend?

- No, no, no, sir! That's what exams are for!

Will you shut up about these exams!

Shut up, all of you!

What made me piss my life away

in this godforsaken place?

There's nothing of me left.

Go away.

(sobbing) Go.

(wailing)

Sir...

(sobbing continues)

Sir...

Sir...

(wailing)

(clears throat)

Would you like to start?

I don't mind.

How do you normally start?

It is your lesson, general studies.

Well, the boys decide. Ask them.

Anybody? Floor's open.

Oh, come on, boys. Don't sulk.

We don't know where we are, sir.

Your class or Mr. Irwin's.

- Does it matter?

- Well, yes, sir.

Depends if you want us

thoughtful or... smart.

He wants you civil,

you rancid little turd.

Hitting us. You're a witness.

He could be sacked.

I thought we'd

talk about the Holocaust.

Good gracious!

How can you teach the Holocaust?

That would do as a question.

Can you, should you, teach the Holocaust?

Anybody? Come on.

It has origins, it has consequences.

It's a subject like any other.

Not like any other, surely.

Not like any other at all.

No, but it's a topic.

They go on school trips there nowadays,

don't they? Auschwitz, Dachau.

What's always concerned me

is where do they have their sandwiches?

The visitors' center.

It's like anywhere else.

Yeah, but do they take

pictures of each other there?

Are they smiling?

Do they hold hands?

Nothing is appropriate.

What if you were to write

this was so far beyond one's experience,

silence is the only proper response?

Mr. Hector's answer to lots of questions,

isn't it, sir?

Er, yes. Yes, Dakin, it is.

"Whereof one cannot speak,

thereof one must be silent."

That's right, isn't it, sir?

Wittgenstein.

- Yes, that's good.

- No, it's not good.

It's flip, it's glib,

it's journalism.

- It's you that taught us it.

- I didn't teach you.

And Wittgenstein did not

screw it out of his very guts

(stutters) in order for you

to turn it into a dinky formula.

Why can't we simply just condemn the camps

outright as an unprecedented horror?

There's no point, sir.

Everybody will do that.

"The camp's an event

unlike any other."

"The evil unprecedented."

Et cetera, et cetera.

No! Can't you see

that even to say "et cetera"

is... monstrous?

"Et cetera" is what

the Nazis would have said.

The dead reduced

to mere verbal abbreviation.

All right, not et cetera. But given that

the death camps are thought of as unique,

wouldn't another approach be

to show precedents?

- Put them, well, in proportion.

- Proportion?

Not proportion, then,

but putting them in context.

But to put something in context

is a step towards saying

it can be understood and explained.

And if it can be explained,

then it can be explained away.

Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner.

- That's good, Posner.

- It isn't good. I mean it, sir.

When we talk about putting them in context,

it's the same as

the dissolution of the monasteries.

Dozens of monasteries

had been dissolved before Henry VIII.

The difference is I didn't lose any relatives

in the dissolution of the monasteries.

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