As we commence our sesquicentennial retrospection on the Civil War, it is worth remembering that much of the enthusiasm for the anniversary derives from Burns’ film, which first aired on public television just over 20 years ago. Over the course of nine parts and 11 hours, Burns’ camera peers into thousands of ghostly faces and pans across faded images of body-strewn battlefields guided by David McCullough’s stately baritone and Foote’s oracular drawl. All the while, the unmistakable, melancholy strains of the series’ theme, “Ashokan Farewell” ring out—at times, it seems, from the nation’s collective heartstrings. Running on consecutive nights at the height of network television’s new season in the fall of 1990 (when network television’s new season still mattered), the series became an unlikely hit. Some 40 million people chose to forego Cheers, Roseanne, The Wonder Years, and America’s Funniest Home Videos for a PBS documentary featuring nothing more than old photographs, footage of empty battle fields, and talking heads they likely had never heard of.
This Slate piece is somewhat uncharitable but it does serve to remind us to think critically about the war and how we perceive it. Burns’s film succeeds more often than not and despite its flaws the documentary holds up quite well two decades on. Moreover, much of the interest in the Civil War since the early 1990s is attributable to Burns and his work. Not such a bad thing.
The Strawfoot 
I commented on the Slate piece recently on another blog. I just bought and re-watched the series, and I have to admit that – now that I have done a lot of reading about the war – I was disappointed by some aspects of it, particularly the characterization of Grant’s Wilderness campaign and the way some other things were presented. However, the emotional power of the series and its ability to inspire are what make it so unique and so special. I was in my early teens when I first saw it and had no interest in the Civil War. It inspired my interest, which has only grown by leaps and bounds through the years, and I will always be grateful to Ken Burns for that.
Besides, is there anyone who can resist tearing up seeing those old vets at the end? Those images are just lovely.
Yes, I too love the footage of the aging vets. For one thing it reminds us that the war really was not that long ago. I think people are way to hard on Ken Burns. I once heard Burns say that his job as a filmmaker is not to be a historian but to show us that we have a history. At the risk of sounding trite, one might say the documentary was an invitation to history. It inspired many people to go on and study the war, and the era, more thoroughly.
Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with you about people being too hard on Ken Burns. If there are any drawbacks to studying a subject, it may be the tendency to start picking apart everything that can’t be – and isn’t meant to be – as
in-depth as a 900-page scholarly book. Things like the recent (and much maligned) “Gettysburg” special on the History Channel or fictional books like “Cold Mountain”, whatever you might think of their accuracy or authenticity, are valuable for their ability to inspire people to learn more, as you said. I think people who are deep into Civil War studies sometimes tend to forget that.
I definitely don’t want to give the impression that my love for Burns’s series is at all lessened. Whatever quibbles I might have developed about certain details, they are unimportant compared to the whole which I think is just wonderful. Aside from a great overview of the War and how it has affected the country, it is also an amazing work of art, in a class all by itself.