Countless traces
There is a notice posted on the entrance door indicating the operating hours.
Who's in the archives
When I arrived at the manuscript reading room, they asked me to show them my pass.
Collection stage
stranded sentences
The reading room of the manuscript catalog is like a giant tomb.
The history of the beach

Translator's Note

The hands of an archivist who breathes life into the anonymous people of the past.
How does something become history?

Considered one of the most beautiful libraries in Paris, France, the Arsenal Library houses a large collection of documents related to various criminal cases from the 18th century.
Also known as the Bastille Archive.
It was initially stored in a damp underground vault and was only classified as valuable after it was damaged by seeping rain.
Here, interrogation records and trial records of prisoners imprisoned in the Bastille, various indictments, and illegal posters torn from the walls by the 18th-century police are jumbled together.


The archive is not a place where history is written, but where the trivial and the profound unfold in equal measure.
And what researchers who prefer archives focus on are the ordinary lives of ordinary characters.
The 18th-century Bastille Archive, the subject of study in this book, is filled with a wealth of stories that would have remained unrecorded had the people of the time not been exposed to the public authorities.
Street life, rumors, various brawls, the actions and opinions of ordinary people—these seemingly trivial incidents lie in the archives, waiting to be unearthed like raw gems.
But for these to see the light of day, they require the collection and selection of historians who seek to transform what they contain into questions and approach the truth.


A striking example of this is revealed in the section that focuses on the specific and dynamic lives of women of the time.
Since the 1980s, as history has focused on the private sphere, the presence of women, previously overlooked, has begun to be revealed. However, in many cases, this has been limited to adding appendices to existing historical knowledge.
However, if we look into the archives, we can find women who are living, moving, three-dimensional figures that go beyond ‘genre paintings.’
Archivists can examine the conditions of women, the social and political environment in which they were treated at the time, and perceive how women participated in a male-dominated world and how they fulfilled full social roles.
It is a work of making women visible in places where women were invisible, where history did not try to see women.


Archival materials not only allow us to see the lives of the people as they are by breaking down pre-existing images, but also allow us to reflect deeply on the fact that existing history is written from the perspective of the victors.


How do historians with an "archival taste" work?

“Archive taste” refers to a unique attitude of digging through piles of data on unknown people forgotten by history, bringing the things buried therein into the arena of historical discussion, and discussing and reflecting on them.
As the worker reads the language of the archive and listens to the lives of the lowly, he or she is able to hear sounds that were previously unheard.
Archival taste is formed through encounters with fascinating shadows that have rarely been illuminated, encounters with beings who are both hostile and hostile, and encounters with people damaged by the violence of their time.


So how does a historian with an archival bent work? Drawing on his own experience, the author recounts the process of historical research, which involves being glued to a library, constantly reading, copying, categorizing, and deciphering materials until his shoulders and neck become stiff.
The author also discusses the rules for historians working with archives.
Historians must always be careful not to make archives an object of desire, abandon the idea that they can understand something by reading it once, be wary of the danger of homogenization that causes them to lose their distance from the source material or the danger of becoming dry footnotes by repeating the material, avoid adding fiction like historical novels to breathe life into archives, abandon the perspective that universalizes the subject of research and write articles that craft the situation at the time as precisely as possible, and avoid adding their own thoughts to the archive while constantly seeking the meaning of the event.

This book, which provides a close look into the work of historians who rely on archives, offers many lessons and food for thought for historical researchers and related specialists.
Furthermore, for general readers who have only seen history books as finished products, this book will satisfy their intellectual curiosity by allowing them to observe the intense research process of a historian, something they rarely encounter, and will allow them to reflect on the true attitude toward learning and research, making for an enjoyable reading experience.

“The reason why we must write history is
Not to talk about the dead past
“To participate in a conversation between living beings.”

This book has an interesting structure.
Beginning with a story about the rough texture and vastness of the archives, covered in white dust, the book contains five essays that sequentially illuminate the archival work process.
Also interspersed among the essays are humorous short stories depicting researchers working in a library, such as competing for a good seat, being sensitive to even the slightest noise, and wondering what other people are looking at and why.

"Countless Traces" sensually depicts the experience of browsing an archive, exploring the allure of archives and how workers are captivated by their allure.
The book compares printed and manuscript materials, autobiographical records, and various statements from the archives, and explains the archival work process with abundant examples such as trump cards, quill pen marks, cloth letters, and seed envelopes discovered among the archive documents.


"Who's in the Archives" tells the story of what was discovered, what was experienced, and what was insightful as one reads through the police records of 18th-century Paris.
What is 'truth' and what is 'reality' in the statements the public makes against those in power?
How can we write the history of the "masses" and the history of "women"? This book concisely captures profound reflections and questions born from experience.

"The Collection Stage" starkly illustrates, through its description of a monotonous and lengthy process, how even the most radical visions inevitably begin with turning each page of old paper.
It also provides a brief overview of the qualities and capabilities required of a history researcher.


"Stranded Sentences" describes the vast abyss between complex lives and criminal case data, the vast chasm between individual stories and so-called historical facts.
In particular, the author's fierce criticism of historical revisionism resonates deeply with readers.

Finally, "The Historian of the Beach" concludes with the author's cautious opinion on why history should be written.