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Professor Miriam Raub Vivian's Writing Corner
The Introduction
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Reading an historical essay without an introduction is like trying to fathom the layout of a house without a blue print: sketchy at best. One is left to wonder how many rooms there are and for what purpose and, most importantly, what they all add up to—a bungalow, a ranch style or split-level home, or a geodesic dome?
The introduction to any historical essay or research paper is essential; it is the blue print or map your reader sees BEFORE she enters the construction that is your paper. It conveys the very structure of an essay and signals to the reader what the critical sign posts will be as he navigates his way through it. Consequently, a writer should spend more time on that one paragraph than any other in the paper, making sure to revisit it as the paper develops. I always tell students to revise the introduction once more after the entire paper is "finished": it is only then that one knows for sure what the final structure of the paper actually is. (The essay's title should be approached similarly, and I recommend making it as specific—and thus as meaningful—as possible.)
What does an introduction look like? Despite the trepidation with which many students approach writing (something akin to blood, sweat and tears for some), the introduction may be the easiest part of a paper to write. That is, personal style aside, there is little mystery to an introduction, which simply lays out the structural organization of one's paper.
Mind you, the first paragraph is not ALWAYS the introduction. In what I term a "pre-introduction," writers MAY prefer to set up the essay by describing an event or providing the historical context for their essay. This is particularly helpful if the topic is not well known. Here's the first paragraph from a paper I delivered this summer at the Patristics Conference in Oxford, and which will appear in print in 2005 (I'm sure you can't wait):
In AD 460, the ascetic Daniel ascended a stone column erected by his disciples outside Constantinople. Taking up residence as a stylite, Daniel remained on his column for virtually the whole of his final thirty-three years, living out the culmination of a series of journeys that ultimately led him to the eastern Roman capital. The anonymous biographer of the holy man makes it clear that Daniel did not originally intend to make Constantinople his home, or even visit it, for that matter. Instead, despite rumors of war in the Holy Land, Daniel was determined to go to Jerusalem, the spiritual center of Christendom. It was only after meeting an old man on the road that Daniel altered his path, for the man counseled Daniel to avoid risking his life amid the dangers of Palestine and instead to "go to Byzantium..[where] you will see a second Jerusalem, Constantinople." |
Readers now know the time period, the general topic of the paper, and have some kind of image in their minds as well—here of an ascetic living atop a pillar. They should also be aware that Constantinople and Jerusalem are somehow important to Daniel's story and the essay at hand.
What should follow—at least shortly—is the formal introduction. This must include a thesis statement and its supporting main points. If the thesis can be likened to a home's unique exterior—one's personal take on or interpretation of a topic—then the exterior (or thesis) remains merely decorative, a façade of sorts, unless there are supporting walls inside, i.e., your main points, to hold it up.
One need not be as bare bones as my introduction that follows, but it is better to be simple and straightforward than to lose the reader amid florid, wordy or overly creative prose:
What do Daniel's travels have to do with transformation in the Roman world? The answer is the impact of what may be termed "monastic mobility." Before the rise of monasticism, an individual such as Daniel, a Syriac speaker from a small village in northern Mesopotamia—and presumably of humble means—would not likely have traveled far from home. That he did, and that these travels were later recounted by a disciple and biographer, makes Daniel an important guide in gauging the effects of monastic movement in transforming—namely Christianizing—Roman civilization in Late Antiquity. Driven by monastic concepts of geography and identity, traveling monks such as Daniel effected cultural and geographic change. How so? First, by embracing pilgrimage, they elevated the importance of Christian holy sites; second, and closely related, by focusing on Jerusalem, the Holy City, they emphasized the spiritual realm over the temporal; and third, by their physical presence and ascetic activity, which sometimes resulted in the establishment of monastic structures, they contributed to a changing landscape. Moreover, as these monks captured the imagination of an age increasingly devoted to Christian saints, less and less attention was paid to the old structures, contributing to the decline of, for example, Greek temples. Finally, the participation in such change by monks such as Daniel means that the force for Rome's transformation from a classical or pagan to a Christian society often came from the bottom up and from the outside in. |
Although I have placed the thesis (and listing of main points) in bold face to make my point here, one cannot do this in historical writing; therefore it is incumbent upon the writer to craft a thesis statement that somehow stands out for the reader, or that the introduction builds up to.
The benefit of having a clear introduction in one's paper is enormous. It will take work and countless revisions, but in the end, when the blue print for the paper is clearly drawn, the writer will rest assured that she has provided a useful guide, and the reader will rejoice at knowing in which direction he is going. As I have heard said before, "The writer works hard so the reader doesn't have to."
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