A good analogy might also be made to the reconstruction of a crime, where the prosecution is at least theoretically committed to discovering what “actually” happened. A friend of mine is a prosecutor, and he says it’s a common occurrence to find himself telling an eyewitness that they (the prosecution) have a better knowledge of what happened than the eyewitness. This is because they are making sense of multiple streams of narrative, privileging some, suppressing others, and ultimately coming up with their own narrative that usually takes into account more information than any one witness could perceive at one time. But theirs is still one narrative among many, and, clearly, it’s still fairly uncertain. So I wouldn’t negate the idea of some “actual reality” as much as I would our ability to get at it–even our supposition of a reality is heavily dependent on our own assumptions, biases, etc. that make it theoretically impossible to describe. The fact that we try to, however, is the interesting thing for me.

If I’m reading JC correctly, his motivation isn’t to deny such a thing as “real history”, but rather 1) Reflect on our (limited) ability to describe real history. 2) Question how ‘meaning’ is generated by doing what people claim as real history versus doing self-confessing fiction.

One could argue, for instance, that our ability to describe real history is very limited due to the complexities constantly involved in any situation; but since the process of creating meaning in our lives tends to be the same regardless of how “real” the description is, we shouldn’t fret about certain kinds of inaccuracies. For example, a story that recounts a “real” event of LDSs stocking up on food storage and then needing it in time of a disaster, may be just as meaningful as Aesop’s fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper, as the hearers of both stories would inspired toward the same end–don’t wait to prepare. This paradigm basically claims that the “truth” of any situation is less important than the outcome of hearing about the situation, and justifies it on the basis that truth is too difficult to discover in the first place.

Personally I’m not sure where I stand in relation to the paradigm described above, but I do think it’s worth taking it seriously.

TT: What do you mean by “to accept it”? I hear you saying that Barker is unacceptable (to scholars?) as indicative narrative unless you believe what I have outlined above.

Blake and Matt W.: How do you define “real history” or “actually history” and is the distinction that simple? How does one tell the difference? And to what extent is the mechanism that allows one to derive value from Beowulf vs. BofM the same?

David H: Your comment raises some of the same questions I’m trying to ask. What is inaccurate history? Depending on how you define it, all history is inaccurate. What may be more important is to recognize the acceptance of competing narratives and what it says about those who accept it.

Personally, my biggest frustration with the Barker texts is that they were used heavily in the “Second Witness” series, weakening what is otherwise perhaps the best Book of Mormon commentary to date.

http://bycommonconsent.com/2008/10/02/barker-part-4/