I’ve been thinking a lot about space. Not in a Star Wars way (although I do know my Aldhani from my Alderaan). I’ve been thinking about space and distance. Inspired by Mike Hill’s seminal article on world-building, I’ve been thinking about how a new focus on space, on the distance between objects, and on their relative sizes, might unlock some of my students’ disciplinary and substantive thinking.

I’m focusing mainly on space in this blog, rather than discussing place and the meanings attributed to a place by people (although there will be inevitable conceptual overlap).

Locating places and objects relationally

We rarely carry a surveyor’s map in our heads. Instead, we often locate places, and we often judge size, relationally. Indeed, from the 1600s, philosophers have framed space in relational terms. A steady line of philosophers, geographers and psychologists have shown that people use salient ‘anchor’ points to locate places and objects (landmarks, higher-level regions, their own body) rather than an abstract, metric grid.

When I think of Ipswich, for example (and I sometimes do, because I used to go clubbing there when I was 17), I think of it in relation to the coastline and in relation to London (up a bit, right a bit). Knowing where London is helps me remember where Ipswich is, and helps me know that it is quite far away from London. It’s a rural area.

Relative size: the Inkas

But let’s begin with relative size. When I teach about the engineering achievements of the Inkas in the 1400s to my A-Level group, I use the example of Saqsawaman in Qosqo (Cuzco), Peru. Look at the photographs. Which photograph of Saqsawaman demonstrates the vast size of the stones that form the foundations of this enormous Inka structure?

Photograph 1                                                           

Photograph 2

It’s photograph 2. I used to use Photograph 1. Now, during my scheme of work that prepares my students for their coursework on the Inkas, I show Photograph 1 and then (‘abracadabra!’) I show Photograph 2. It’s very rewarding. ‘Wow! Look at the size of that stone!’; ‘They moved that stone there without the wheel?!’; and so on.

Without the man in white, my pupils cannot easily grasp the size of the stones, and thus the significance of the Inka achievement.

Perspective and line of sight

Now let’s look at another ceremonial space, this time a Christian one. I teach the Reformation to the same sixth form group and I have learnt (the hard way) that I have to do a lot of preparation for pupils to understand a source like this. Have a read (I’ve just kept the first part of it):

Source A From a London Chronicle. This is a contemporary account written by a private individual continuing a chronicle started by monks at Greyfriars.

Item September 1547: All images were pulled down throughout England and all churches new white limed with the commandments written on the walls.

Item 17 November 1547: At night was pulled down the rood in St Paul’s with the statues of Mary and John.

What on earth is ‘the rood’? I soon learnt that, for my pupils to understand this source (from a 2018 examination paper), they needed to know the key features of a late-medieval church: not just what a rood is, but the chancel and the nave that the rood kept separate. They also needed to know why evangelicals objected to a rood, with all the trappings of (what they saw as) Catholic superstition, idolatry, erroneous elevation of the host, and so on.

To really understand the significance of the fall of roods and rood screens, and what this meant to Mass and the doctrine of transubstantiation, I need to teach pupils about line of sight.

Usually, when I introduce rood screens, I include just the screen, and we discuss separation between laity and clergy, the special status of the priest, and all that jazz. Here’s a lovely rood screen I sometimes use:

But, to really understand how the fall of St. Paul’s Rood Screen changed the Mass, I need to bring in a relational object: a parishioner.

In this diagram, I have added in a kneeling parishioner, and shown (via the arrow), the viewpoint of the parishioner who could look up at the elevation of the host through the rood screen. Seeing the host raised up majestically, during the ceremony of the Eucharist, might have been a magical experience for a parishioner. Removing the screen would have significantly affected a parishioner’s experience of the Mass.

When we talk about perspectives in history, we can use words, but we can also use diagrams, with multiple objects, that show relative size and lines of sight. Using salient anchor points, like the parishioner kneeling and the raised host, might help pupils ‘see’ the perspective of that parishioner in a new way.

Encouraging pupils to add in an anchor point during source analysis

So far, we’ve looked at how a direct focus on relative size and line of sight can support pupils’ substantive knowledge. But (hold onto your hats), I am now exploring how a focus on distance and space using maps can help pupils’ disciplinary knowledge. Let’s look at another source that I use with my sixth formers and with my Year 8s when we study the Tudors. It’s Mary I’s speech at the Guildhall:

There’s so much to say about this source. This is a very clever Queen, reminding her subjects of her legitimacy, her strength, her maternal love for her people, and using a declarative ‘we shall’ to urge her subjects to stand against Wyatt.

But, to understand the significance of this speech, we need to discuss the provenance. In particular, where the speech took place: the Guildhall. To understand this place, and how Mary put herself at risk to deliver the speech and to show herself bodily to her people (the Guildhall was apparently packed because it was Candlemas), students need to know that the Guildhall is outside the confines of Mary’s palace and, indeed, a distance away.

Mary left St. James’s palace, travelled for over 2 miles, while the rebellion was underway, through busy London streets, to make her speech. Take a look at the map. The quality isn’t great on this blog, but use the link below to the online map to use a better one. In the picture below, the Guildhall is shown in green in the top right hand corner. St. James’s Park is on the far left, by the bend in the River Thames.

This map is super dooper: The Agas Map

The thing is, the source does not mention St. James’s Palace at all. But, if pupils can use St. James’s Palace as an anchor point in their head (if I increase the map-work I do in class, by pointing out where things are happening ‘in space’, where the Tudors usually hang out and do – or dodge – all their paperwork) , might those pupils be better placed to understand the purpose, nature, audience and significance of Mary’s speech? I think they might. In the source provenance provided, we are just told the speech happens at the Guildhall. By relating the Guildhall to St. James’s Palace in space, we can better understand the warrior Queen that Mary I was shaping up to be – and thus better understand the context of this source.