Memory as Entertainment? The Case of Disney’s America

Masterarbeit

im Ein-Fach-Masterstudiengang

English and American Literatures, Cultures and Media

der Philosophischen Fakultät

der Christian-Albrechts-Universität zu Kiel

vorgelegt von

Sina Delfs

Erstgutachter: Prof. Dr. Christian Huck

Zweitgutachter: Dennis Büscher-Ulbrich

Kiel im Dezember 2015

Für meine vier wunderbaren Großeltern und all die kostbaren Erzählungen

Für meine besten Schwestern und all unsere gemeinsamen Erinnerungen

Für meine Mama und meinen Papa, für alles

Table of Contents

1 Introduction..................................................................................................................................... 1

2 Disney’s America – the Commercialization of Nostalgia .............................................................. 4

2.1 Inside the Park - How Disney Imagined America ................................................................... 5

2.2 A(n Un-)Predictable Opposition .............................................................................................. 9

3 The Memory Discourse – A Focus-guided Introduction .............................................................. 14

3.1 The Transdisciplinary Field of Research ............................................................................... 14 3.1.1 Maurice Halbwachs and the Collective Memory............................................................ 15 3.1.2 Pierre Nora and the Lieux de Mémoire........................................................................... 16 3.1.3 Collective Memory and Cultural Identity ....................................................................... 17

3.2 Cultural Memory and History in the Case of Disney’s America........................................... 21

3.3 Remembering the American Way.......................................................................................... 23 3.3.1 American Exceptionalism............................................................................................... 23 3.3.2 A Dual Experience of Identity ........................................................................................ 24 3.3.3 American Cultural Memory and Civil Religion ............................................................. 25

4 Mediating the Past – The Real and the Quasi-Real ...................................................................... 27

4.1 Heritage Tourism ................................................................................................................... 28

4.2 Authenticity or Authenticities? .............................................................................................. 30

4.3 Civil War Battlefields in American Cultural Memory........................................................... 32

5 Themed Entertainment in the USA............................................................................................... 35

5.1 Re-enactments and Living-History ........................................................................................ 35

5.2 Insights into Theme Park Culture .......................................................................................... 38

5.3 Disney’s Theme Parks as Archetype Entertainment.............................................................. 40

6 American Cultural Memory as Memotainment ............................................................................ 43

6.1 How much Fun Does Cultural Memory Permit? ................................................................... 46

6.2 The Plot Behind the Kaleidoscopic Past ................................................................................ 56

6.3 The Spiritual Experience and the Commodification of Place................................................ 64

6.4 An Appeal to the Senses – Providing a Fantastic Feeling ..................................................... 72

6.5 Memory Etiquette – “Do not Throw a Frisbee”..................................................................... 77

7 Concluding Remarks..................................................................................................................... 82

Appendix.......................................................................................................................................... 86

Works Cited ..................................................................................................................................... 94

Nachbauen, nachspielen, nachfühlen – Erinnerung mit Unterhaltungswert? .................................... i

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1 Introduction

Anniversaries are like gregarious animals. They seem to feel comfortable in the com-

pany of others just like them. The year 2015 appears to have been particularly cozy in

this respect as it marked a number of important remembrances. For instance, it has been

seventy years since the end of World War II and the dropping of the atomic bombs over

Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Forty years have gone by since the fall of Saigon and the end

of the Vietnam War and Germany and Europe celebrated the 25th anniversary of Reuni-

fication and the formal ending of the Cold War. Societies all over the world held public

(and private) commemoration ceremonies and many reconsiderations of the past were

covered extensively by the media. Most acts of remembrance show a predominantly

contemplative character, tinged with a mantra of “never again” (Winter 2008: 62).

Quite the opposite could be witnessed on June 19 and 20, 2015 in Belgium. Two

hundred years after the defeat of Napoleon’s French army by an alliance of English and

Prussian forces, over 5000 re-enactors, 300 horses, and 100 canons made the Battle of

Waterloo come to life again outside of history books or ceremonies. Several thousand

spectators bought tickets to the event and watched from front row spots on the safe side-

lines of the battlefield as masqueraded soldiers performed Waterloo. Prior to the bicen-

tennial spectacle, the official website advertised “[t]hese shows [to] be different, fun for

all, and full of emotions – Come and participate from the very front line” (Parmentier

“Waterloo 2015 English”). The German version of the page even stated: “Diese Darbie-

tungen versprechen, nicht nur gesellig und zugänglich, sondern vor allem episch, laut

und sehr farbenfroh zu sein” (Parmentier “Waterloo 2015 German”). The visitors were

invited to be part of the engaging recreation of a historically decisive event. The battle

was depicted as a family-fun attraction and aimed at making the spectators feel included

by offering them a visual and emotional approach to war. A strikingly similar, yet less

choreographed, incident has been recorded for the First Battle of Bull Run at Manassas,

Virginia, in the year 1861: “When word reached the nation's capital that the first major

battle of the Civil War was to be fought at Bull Run, a little stream near Manassas, Va.,

all of social Washington packed luncheon baskets and turned out in buggies to witness

it” (Safire 1994).

With the above-mentioned examples, the memory of war shows itself in two mark-

edly different garments. There is a stark contrast between official commemoration cere-

monies and the colorful, social and family-fun re-enactments. Solemn memory meets

entertainment, facts meet fantasy, and (some kind of) authenticity meets recreation. Are

2

these pairs completely irreconcilable instances in the way a society remembers? Or can

they somehow be merged in fruitful complementarity?

This thesis will focus on a proposed American case of combining collectively re-

membered events with popular entertainment. At the beginning of the 1990s the Walt

Disney Company announced its plans for building a history theme park in the small vil-

lage of Haymarket in the state of Virginia. The entertainment giant intended to make the

past of the United States readily accessible to the general public through its – at the time

– fifth amusement paradise by the telling name of Disney’s America (DA). Fun was to

be mixed with education and emotion merged with information as Disney planned to

develop the park around selected topics and events from American history. However, in

close proximity to the proposed site lay the above-mentioned Manassas National Battle-

field Park, the site of two central Civil War battles in 1861 and 1862. First reactions to

the project still oscillated between enthusiasm and skepticism but in the end DA failed

in a storm of outraged protests from historians, journalists, writers, and preservationists.

Discussions became extremely heated during the spring of 1994 when the topic evolved

from a local concern over the multi-million dollar investment into a nationwide cam-

paign against Disney and its plans. Eventually, in September 1994 Disney’s former

CEO Michael Eisner announced the complete cancellation of DA and plans for the park

were put on the shelf to gather dust.

From the perspective of cultural studies, this thesis will conduct a case study to un-

cover the factors that ultimately led to proclaiming Disney’s popular entertainment in-

compatible with the socially shared memory of America’s past. It will revolve around

the following two central questions:

(1) Why was the collectively remembered past of the United States of America declared unsuitable for the entertainment approach of the DA theme park?

(2) Why was Disney as THE (inter)national symbol for entertainment deprived of the ability to represent American memory in an adequate manner?

Commonly, memory is thought of as a personal recollection of events that one has ex-

perienced or learned about through other human beings or the media. By extension, col-

lective memories are perceived as bundles of recollected events with a defining, often

emotional meaning to an entire social group. History, in the general perception, is con-

sidered as the rather objective, all-encompassing, evidence-based and academically

verified version of the past. These notions are not yet backed by theory but their com-

mon meanings should be kept in mind when engaging with the overview of the first

planning stages of the park, its structure and content. Chapter two will also cover the ar-

3

gumentation strands of the heated public discussions between opponents and supporters

of Disney’s plans.

Subsequently, chapter three offers the theoretical, case-specific background to the

discussions of the notions of collective memory and history. The conceptual framework

is comprised of the theories by Maurice Halbwachs, Pierre Nora, and Aleida and Jan

Assmann. These scholars all played decisive roles in developing a framework for the

analysis of how societies remember their pasts collectively and, especially, how group

memory is connected to group identity. Chapter three also introduces central aspects of

American cultural memory as prerequisites for adequately analyzing the DA conflict.

Chapter four elaborates on the mediation of the past through heritage tourism and

its myriad offers devoted to satisfying the public interest of connecting with the past

during one’s leisure time. As this field is very diverse, the (economic) objectives and

employed mediation strategies of the institutions differ significantly. One of the most

heatedly discussed aspects has become the authenticity of the displays – a recurring dis-

pute to which this paper offers a mitigating approach.

As the case of DA demonstrates, the USA’s expansive field of heritage tourism en-

compasses many instances of themed entertainment attractions. Chapter five introduces

the highly popular mediation strategies of re-enactment and living-history, which were

both to be employed in Disney’s history park. In order to uncover the deeper anxieties

of DA’s opponents, it is paramount to understand what theme park entertainment in

general and Disney’s prototypical theme park experience in particular entail. Their in-

fluence on the heritage industry as a whole is not to be underestimated.

Based on this theoretical background, chapter six turns to a detailed analysis of

DA’s rejected approach to American collective memory. This thesis aims at uncovering

the reasons behind the proposed incompatibility of collectively valued, historical con-

tents and a disneyfied1, popular entertainment format and it will try to uncover the im-

pact of Disney’s polysemous reputation on the judgments passed. The paper thus con-

tributes to the highly topical debates about the diverse modes of mediating cultural

memory. It offers a specifically American perspective on the matter and, for the first

time, attends academically to the overarching mechanisms that caused the rejection of

the DA proposition. The results of the balanced dissection can then help defuse tensions

surrounding equally contested, but more recent projects from diverse cultural back-

grounds.

1 The term will be discussed in chapter 5.3 on Disney as the provider of archetypal theme parks.

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2 Disney’s America – the Commercialization of Nostalgia

Michael Eisner was appointed Chief Executive Officer of the Walt Disney Company in

1984 at a time when the firm was struggling financially. He held his position at Disney

for almost 20 years and was decisively involved in launching many groundbreaking

projects. Under the rule of Eisner and Disney President Frank Wells2 the Walt Disney

Company was led back to a steady growth. New additions to Florida’s Walt Disney

World Resort in 1989, the opening of the Euro Disney Resort3 in 1992, a reported profit

of $816.7 million in the same year and the worldwide mega success of The Lion King in

1994 (Samland 2011 & LA Times 1993) justified Eisner previously having announced

the 1990s to become known as the “Disney Decade” (Samland 2011). He had devised

the business strategy of “revitaliz[ing] Disney by broadening its brand into new ven-

tures” (Powell & Stover 2001: 2). The DA history theme park, based on a “totally new

concept,” was part of said revitalization (Virginiavirtucon 1993).

As Michael Eisner recollects in his 1998 autobiography, the story of DA began in

1991 when a group of high-ranking Disney officials visited the living-history museum

of Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. They were seeking inspiration for their plan to

invest $650 million in a small-scale theme park combining the notions of historical edu-

cation and entertainment. Virginia, the cradle of the American nation with a well-

developed tourist industry, was regarded as the perfect location to merge these two con-

cepts (Eisner 1998). Disney wanted to tap into the industry with a park “built around a

small number of emotionally stirring, heart-wrenching stories based on important

themes in American history” (ibid).

In the spring of 1993, with DA’s content-planning in progress, Disney employees

located a 2,300-acre (≈9 km2) property near the small town of Haymarket in Prince Wil-

liam County, Virginia (fig. 14). The location lay 35 miles (≈56 km) outside of Washing-

ton D.C. and promised a pool of, at the time, 20 million potential theme park visitors

(Moe 1993; Mehren 1994). Another neighbor, however, proved to be of even greater

relevance to the project’s outcome. The abovementioned Civil War battleground near

the town of Manassas lay only about 6 miles (≈9.5 km) from the location of the planned

park (Mehren 1994). The proximity to a site of regional and national cultural signifi-

cance would become a key issue with opponents of DA.

2 Frank Wells died in a helicopter crash in the spring of 1994. 3 The name of the park was changed to Disneyland Resort Paris in 2002. 4 For the figures referred to throughout the paper please turn to the scans provided in the appendix.

5

Politicians, among them the outgoing and the incoming Virginian governors,

pledged full support to the project. The economic developments that a company as big

and influential as Disney would draw to the county proved extremely attractive and the

following promotional projections from 1993 underlined any of those positive judg-

ments. It estimated a direct creation of 3,000 jobs and an estimated $1.5 billion in tax

revenues for the county and the state over a period of 30 years (Virginiavirtucon 1993).

Naturally, these numbers were tempting to the county as most of its inhabitants were

daily commuters to Washington D.C. and direct economic growth took place outside of

its borders (Moe & Wilkie 1997).

At the end of October 1993, Disney’s secret development plans eventually leaked

to the press. In order to avoid public speculations and uninformed, untimely antago-

nism, Disney prepared an official press presentation of its plans for November 11 (Eis-

ner 1998). It provided an introduction to the park’s conceptual layout and property de-

velopment plans.

2.1 Inside the Park - How Disney Imagined America

The promotional material (see appendix) provided press and public with the first glance

at Disney’s plans. It featured highly patriotic descriptions of the motivation, conception

and vision behind the history theme park that all radiate with the fascination to be ig-

nited in the readers and future visitors. The deliberate choice of words can be imagined

to have caught many Americans’ attention and spoken to popular sentiments. If not

noted otherwise, the information and descriptions in this section will be taken from the

original brochure’s texts and pieces of concept art. As the brochure was the only offi-

cially released material to thoroughly describe Disney’s visions, it was THE first source

of reference for all parties involved in the dispute.

Instantly, striking slogans revealed the imagined conceptual direction of DA. The

park was to evoke a triple temporality and have the guests “recall the past, live the pre-

sent [and] dream the future” in a simultaneous experience of a nostalgic then, an opti-

mistic now and a promising tomorrow (fig. 3). Emphasis was placed on the park’s over-

all uniqueness, its attention to historical detail and its aim to “[c]elebrat[e] our nation’s

richness of diversity, spirit and innovation” (fig. 2). All qualities were to have a continu-

ing effect by encouraging a patriotic sense of identity and belonging and, as will be

shown later, they were closely linked to both the Walt Disney Company and the Ameri-

can collective identity.

6

The inherent connection between national history and the history of the Common-

wealth of Virginia was one of the reasons for the choice of location. DA was introduced

as an “ideal complement” to Washington D.C.’s and Virginia’s existing “rich historical

heritage” as it was displayed in historic sites and famous historical museums (fig. 5).

From the beginning, Disney wanted to dismiss any claims to an antagonistic or purely

competitive strategy. The company focused on forging a profitable partnership with re-

gional and local institutions and politicians by flatteringly declaring the site its “ideal

choice” (fig. 3). Disney stressed its long-time experience and expertise as “a creator of

wonderful places” and its reputation of producing projects of “quality, style and sensi-

tivity” (fig. 4). In order to elicit a positive judgment from politicians, journalists and lo-

cal residents, Disney relied on its self-proclaimed image as the successful, sensitive and

caring company, which it combined with the promise of sustainable “commercial de-

velopment” for the county and state (ibid).

In addition to the nation’s historic origins being rooted in the area, a visit to DA

was to revive each visitor’s overarching American spirit and identity (Moe & Wilkie

1997). The park’s general conception would have reflected the country’s “diverse and

unlikely society” consisting of “a rich mixture of land, family and beliefs” that has al-

ready come “impossibly far” but has the power to go even further (fig. 5). Through this

patriotic spirit all visitors were to be reassured of “these [American] qualities which

have always been the source of our strength and the beacon of hope to people every-

where” (ibid). In the same hailing way, DA was introduced as “a celebration of the di-

versity of America, the plurality of this nation and of the conflicts that have defined us

as a people” (ibid). These descriptions reflect what can be described as the 150 % ideo-

logical ‘Americanness’ typically associated with Disney’s theme parks (Kagelmann

1993).

In this way, DA was to condense the ‘essence of America’ in order to make it

available for “people of all ages” (fig 5). Central to this idea was the repeatedly men-

tioned celebration of the American national character and its connection to ground-

breaking events, developments and sites of the past. The elements were to ignite a fasci-

nation fueled by the experience of “living [American] history” (ibid). Such a participa-

tory feeling was to be created by shifting an event from the past into a direct present-

time visualization, for example, through “detailed re-enactments of significant Civil

War and Revolutionary War battles” (ibid). Public discussions, the presentation of Dis-

ney’s own American Teacher Award, and the live-streaming of political debates, would

7

have been the visitors’ link to the current development of the country and the future

shape of the United States was to be discussed in symposia or panels on current issues

(ibid). Such a condensed version of the United States was designed to generate a simul-

taneously inspiring and entertaining, yet reflexive and educational vision of the country.

DA’s nine themed territories were to catapult the visitor back into a visualization of

America’s past. Concept art showed them arranged around the large artificial pond of

Freedom Bay with no adjacent neighbors of the park visible (fig. 10). Visitors would

have entered the park through Crossroads USA, the “hub of Disney’s America” based

on “mid-19th century commerce” (fig. 6). An artificial channel would have visually

separated the inside park world from the outside ‘normality,’ with a train trestle bridge

as the narrow connection between the two. This “zone of mediation” allows for a

smooth but conscious transition from outside to inside (Diane Barthel in Kelleher 2004:

13). As can be imagined, the streets’ “hustle and bustle” would immediately have en-

closed the visitors and drawn them into a well-considered representation of America

(fig. 6).

Adjacent to the entrance area was to be Presidents’ Square, which broached the is-

sue of “the formation of the United States and its government” by “celebrat[ing] the

birth of democracy and the patriots who fought to preserve it” (fig. 6). With “a moving

account of the making of our nation” in the Hall of Presidents, the territory can be

imagined to set the mood for the upcoming round-trip through the park (ibid).

The third territory, called Native America, would have “explor[ed] the life of

America’s first inhabitants (…) long before European colonization” (fig. 7). Attractions

included a recreated indigenous village and it does not appear too far-fetched to imagine

living-history performances taking place within the area. Right next to the ‘experience-

able’ lives of the natives in the village was to be placed the “harrowing Lewis and Clark

raft expedition” ride (fig. 7 & 12).

The Civil War Fort would have stood as an emblem “of [the] nation’s greatest cri-

sis,” it would have allowed “guests to experience the reality of a soldier’s daily life”

(fig. 7). This feeling was to be produced by a mixture of Disney’s trademark technolo-

gies, which would have “transport[ed] visitors into the center of Civil War combat,” by

an open grassland where an “authentic re-enactment of a period battle” would have

taken place and, lastly, via a Freedom Bay “nighttime spectacular based on the historic

8

confrontation between the Monitor and the Merrimac”5 (ibid). The concept art shows

gunfire, explosions and large numbers of re-enactors and horses around Civil War Fort,

which clearly would have fulfilled the promise of a livable history to be physically ex-

perienced.

DA’s fifth territory, Family Farm, was to offer “pastoral delights and insight into

their production” and pay “homage to the working farms – the heart of early American

families” (fig. 9). The harmonious atmosphere surrounding the rebuilt barn was to be

supported by living-history performances of “a nearby country wedding, barn dance and

buffet” (ibid). Such events would have facilitated a participatory immersion into the

farm universe by merging concepts of entertainment and education.

The same style would have awaited the visitors in the State Fair area. It would

have recreated a popular leisure time activity of “small town America” during the 1930s

and 1940s (fig. 9). The scenery’s “nostalgic recreation” would have included a Ferris

wheel, a wooden roller coaster and “an authentic, old-fashioned ball park” advertised to

house “an exhibition all-star [baseball] competition” (ibid). This area might have be-

come one of the least controversial as it would not have portrayed a conflict-laden his-

toric event or topic but rather a beloved, yet fading attraction from the realm of popular

entertainment.

Adjoining State Fair was to be Victory Field where visitors could have “para-

chut[ed] from a plane or operat[ed] tanks and weapons in combat” (fig. 8 & 13). The con-

nection between past and present was to be a “firsthand” experience of “what American

soldiers have faced in defense of our freedom” (fig. 8). The brochure does not specify

how exactly such an experience would have been generated but controversies appear

almost inevitable if the presentation of the events was conducted from a solely positive

perspective.

Having almost circled the bay, visitors would then have been given the chance to

visit the “factory town of Enterprise” (fig. 8). Enterprise would have celebrated the “in-

ventions and innovations spawned by the ingenuity and can-do spirit that catapulted

America to the forefront of industry” (ibid). It was to mix visual information about 19th

century working life with an overall layer of patriotic pride in the highly valued Ameri-

can inclination to progress. Typical museum-style information about the past would

5 The first duel between two ironclad ships in the Civil War took place in 1862. For more information consult the Civil War Trust’s website, the link to which is provided in the Works Cited.

9

have blended with theme park thrill in a “high-speed adventure through a turn-of-the-

century mill” – a rollercoaster called Industrial Revolution (fig. 8 & 14).6

Lastly, the visitors’ experience of educational entertainment would have culmi-

nated in We the People’s celebration of “the courage and triumph of our immigrant heri-

tage” (fig. 6). In “a building resembling Ellis Island” the area was to “explore and ex-

plain how the conflicts among these varied cultures continue to help shape this nation”

(ibid). The final territory was to portray an emotion-laden, highly topical issue that

would have evoked memories and severe conflicts, while at the same time integrating

them as essential parts in the narrative of the nation. Having chosen a drawing of We the

People as the front cover of the brochure points to the territory’s potential symbolic

force in igniting America’s self-perception (fig. 2).

In conclusion, the brochure impressively envisioned Disney’s conceptual orienta-

tion for DA and the ambition to create educational entertainment became apparent in

each territory’s description and visualization. The presented conception was later de-

clared to be part of a tentative development stage and still to be open to constructive

criticism (Hsu 1994). By contrast, its professional design and choice of words, and the

defensive behavior of Disney’s employees in charge had made the plans appear rather

fixed and finalized – a circumstance that rendered the project attackable from the out-

side (e.g. Eisner 1998). The condemned conflation of American memory with DA’s en-

tertainment was heatedly debated in public over the course of a year.

2.2 A(n Un-)Predictable Opposition

On 30 September, 1994 the flag in front of the Haymarket town hall flew at half staff.

The day before, the Walt Disney Company had surprisingly announced the immediate

withdrawal of its DA project from Haymarket due to a “fear of lawsuits and a loathing

of bad publicity” (Dezern & Groer 1994). Local residents were rather dramatically de-

scribed to have been “in economic mourning” (ibid), for losing the project equaled los-

ing the large number of promised jobs, tourists and millions of tax money (Groer 1993).

The conflict revolved around what was optionally called “the propaganda war”

(Groer 1994b), “a clash of cultures” or a “war of taste” (Safire 1994). Disney’s initial

project presentation in November 1993 had set off a multi-faceted debate about the pro-

ject, in which opponents and proponents of the theme park publically attacked each

other’s positions. Over the course of one year DA developed from a regional into a na-

6 It was later planned to separate the rollercoaster from the mill, in order not to mix “theme park excite-ment” directly with “history” (Eisner 1998).

10

tional issue. It was turned into the serious struggle between “theme-park America and

authentic America” (Rich 1994) and thereby implying that theme parks were by defini-

tion inauthentic (cf. Krauthammer 1994).

Two organizations emerged as the main opponents of Disney’s attempt of blending

its fiction-loving entertainment with a more factual American past. The first major rival

was the Piedmont Environmental Council (PEC), a group “dedicated to preserving rural

land use” in the Northern Piedmont region (Baer 1994). Remarkable about the PEC was

its funding-base which included, and to this day includes, infinitely wealthy landowners

of the region. They mainly relied on environmental arguments in order to halt DA (ibid).

The second anti-Disney organization was founded in May 1994 under the name of

Protect Historic America (PHA) for the sole purpose of halting the DA project. More

than 200 journalists, writers and – most importantly – well-known and accredited histo-

rians joined the cause, using their expertise and networks to prevent Disney from im-

plementing its “ersatz history” (Satullo 1994). Their strategy was to divert attention

away from the local character of the struggle and emphasize its grave, nationally sig-

nificant implications. Hence, DA and the corresponding clash between historical acade-

mia and the entertainment industry were treated by numerous widely-read national

newspapers. In addition to the immediate local criticism of the project, this kind of bad

publicity ultimately turned the issue into a nationwide “public-relations headache” for

the highly image-conscious Walt Disney Company (Rich 1994).

According to James M. McPherson, the president of PHA, the group’s primary goal

was to convince Disney to abandon the specific site of the park as the project was de-

clared a definite threat to the Manassas National Battlefield Park and other historically

significant sites of the region (1994). He further stated that PHA “challeng[ed] Disney's

right to ruin the landscape where real history happened – history that shaped this nation

and determined its destiny” (ibid). Fellow historian C. Vann Woodward even spoke of

the “desecration of a particular region” which belonged neither to Disney nor to Vir-

ginia but was “national heritage” (1994). These statements already faintly hint at the ex-

istence of an argument structure beyond the sole location-issue. A retrospect in the

Washington Monthly observed PHA’s turn to the ‘wrong place argumentation’ because

it would help the group generate national attention and have “the added value of avoid-

ing a [direct] debate about the content” of the park (Bailey 1994: 12). Additionally, in-

dividual members of PHA diverted from the group’s strategy and publicly commented

on the inherent connection between the official claim to a fatally chosen location and

11

the more general accusation of a falsified representation of the American past. For in-

stance, David McCullough (Stradling 1994), co-founder of PHA and host to the TV

show The American Experience, stated: “There’s nothing like the real history, the real

places (…). Why move in and destroy real history in order to create synthetic history?”

Shelby Foote (Wines 1994), a Civil War historian and TV host, was quoted as saying:

“The Disney people will do to American history what they have already done to the

animal kingdom7 – sentimentalize it out of recognition” and Woodward (1994) even

concluded in a self-evident tone that most members of the group were “not worried that

Disney will misinterpret the past. With Disney it is pretty much taken for granted.” This

strand of the disputation had some proponents and journalists highlight the historians’

intellectual arrogance, reminding their readership that “historians don’t own history”

(Safire 1994). To this Woodward admitted that “[h]istorians are pretty good at (…)

[misinterpreting the past] themselves” (1994). Yet, of Disney they seemed to demand an

exclusive legitimization to join their interpretation-circle.

In sum, three strands of reasoning emerged from the myriad articles, essays and

opinion pieces dealing with the conflict: fatal urban sprawl, the destruction of the na-

tionally important historic battlefield and the general falsification of the past through

commercialization. Even though groups like the PEC and PHA were trying to separate

the three, their interconnection surfaced time and again. The first controversy arose

around the issue of urban sprawl. In particular the PEC kept emphasizing the dangers of

this “poorly planned, land-consumptive [and] automobile-oriented” “low-density devel-

opment on the edges of cities and towns” (Moe 1993). The opposition was convinced

that DA would lead to a “commercial blitzkrieg” (McCullough in Janofsky 1994) of

secondary development outside the park’s borders and undoubtedly lead to the extinc-

tion of “one of the most scenic and historic regions in the United States” (Moe & Wilkie

1997). The prospect of a ‘second Orlando’ – a reference to the immense development

attracted by Walt Disney World in Florida – initiated a broadening of the issue as a

symptom “of what [was] happening all over America” (Orlando Sentinel 1994). How-

ever, this subject did not strike the national attention much because it was often associ-

ated with the locally-rooted Not-In-My-Backyard (NIMBY) phenomenon. Disney’s offi-

cials publically attached the NIMBY label to the rich landowners of the region, who

7 The Animal Kingdom is part of Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida. It mixes an entertaining theme park experience with the educational zoo experience. In 1994 the park was in its planning stage; it was opened in 1998 (Steinkrüger 2013: 279).

12

were for example members of the PEC and denounced them to be a cultural elite that

only fought for its own cause, in this case the preservation of their estates (Baer 1994).

PHA managed to link the issue of urban sprawl to the location-argument. Their tac-

tic was based on highlighting the importance of the Manassas battleground for the iden-

tity of the American people, arguing that “the Manassas countryside [was] not Vir-

ginia’s to sell. It belong[ed] to the nation” (NY Times 1994b). The Civil War battles

were a “defining national experience” and marked the ground as one of America’s “ho-

liest sites,” which defined the collective identity of the nation and would be desecrated

by the construction of DA (Baker 1994; also cf. 4.3). Eisner stubbornly responded that

Disney was not going to build its park directly on top of the battlefield (1994a). Rather,

the company stressed that the project was entirely complementary to regional historic

offers and it declared DA’s message as highly effective only in combination with Vir-

ginia’s historically significant surroundings (Moe & Wilkie 1997).

Along with the potential destruction of nationally valued land went the fear of

spoiling its significance by “trivializ[ing] the American saga [and] indoctrinating visi-

tors in [Disney’s] own (…) version of events” (Wines 1994). Disney was accused of

“deliberately falsifying history” (Safire 1994), of “plasticiz[ing]” and “oversim-

plify[ing]” (Doolittle 1995) or even mocking it (Styron 1994). The fear that the park

with its ‘distorted content’ would have “distract[ed] visitors from the real places of his-

tory” (Ken Burns in Woodward 1994) was closely connected to Disney’s self-

proclaimed role as the “national storyteller, the primary cultural 'imprinter' of what it

means for children to be American” (Jamie O’Boyle in Fiore 1994).

Disney tried to de-escalate the situation by continuously emphasizing its wish to

“help educate through entertainment” and instead of detracting visitors from other his-

torical sites, they were determined to “help stimulate visits to historical sites that often

go unappreciated” (Eisner 1994a). The company preferred a profitable partnership,

based on the mutual aim of reconnecting the American public to their own roots, over

hostility and competitiveness. The experiences provided by DA and the emotions thus

ignited would “inspire renewed interest in American history and a renewed pride in

American institutions” (Eisner 1994b). DA’s all-encompassing message was to be that

the USA was “the best of all possible places” (Eisner in Orlando Sentinel 1993). The

Daily Press accurately summarized the whole standoff in remarking that “the irony is

that the very thing these people want to protect. Disney says it wants to enhance”

(1994).

13

Disney quickly realized that the opposition to DA was less predictable, or even con-

trollable, than it had been with earlier projects. The company kept emphasizing that the

park’s content was not finalized yet and in early 1994 it even considered changing the

focus of the concept to “a handful of American values or cultural themes” (Hsu 1994) in

a park named Disney’s American Celebration (Eisner 1998). Like this, they would have

focused more immediately on entertainment and would have avoided the issue of por-

traying the elusive American past. In hindsight Eisner even concluded it to have been

the company’s “first important misstep (…) to call the park Disney’s America” (1998).

In September 1994, the sum of the above-mentioned arguments, having been pub-

licly debated on a national stage, led to Disney abandoning the project. Due to its care-

fully maintained positive image, the entertainment giant could not “afford (…) being

cast as a villain” in this stage production (Marlowe 1994). Eisner even admitted that he

would have delayed the project for a year and would have prepared a better PR-

campaign had he foreseen the magnitude of the criticism (Powers 1994).

Despite announcements that they would be looking for a ‘better-suited’ location,

Disney has not revised its passionately developed project until this day. The accusations

of causing unstoppable urban sprawl and of destroying a historically important site were

constantly infused with categorically denying the Walt Disney Company the ability to

portray something as serious and important as America’s past. Observing this conflict

from a cultural and temporal distance immediately evokes the question of what this

‘memory of the American past’ referred to.

14

3 The Memory Discourse – A Focus-guided Introduction

A huge array of terminology is used to speak about the elusive notion of memory. Au-

thor-dependent definitions are attached to terms like cultural, collective, communicative

or social memory and they are employed in diverse contexts and fields of research. In

most of those the relation between memory and history remains a subject of debate (cf.

Olick & Robbins 1998: 111f.). Nowadays, scholarly debates about memory have ex-

tended to an almost “insurmountable accumulation” (ibid. 133), therefore, discussions

of the terminology are be limited to those conceptions that prove relevant to analyzing

the clash of entertainment and remembering in the declined project of DA. Maurice

Halbwachs’ considerations serve as a basis, especially so his conceptualizations of a

possible distinction between memory and history. Pierre Nora’s concept of the sites of

memory offers a more detailed continuation of said thought process. Moreover, a central

aspect of the memory discourse and the analysis of DA is the connection between mem-

ory and group identity, which is elaborately condensed in Jan and Aleida Assmann’s

considerations. By uniting the previous strands of thought, the exposed complex relation

between the history and memory will be addressed, before then turning to influential

features of American memory.

3.1 The Transdisciplinary Field of Research

The past 30 to 40 years have witnessed the steep rise of the memory discourse to aca-

demic stardom in myriad fields of research – a phenomenon that the American historian

Jay Winter (2001) subsumed under the popular notion of the memory boom. The interre-

lation of memory and culture opens up an impressively transdisciplinary field of re-

search and unites, among others, the disciplines of sociology, history, literary studies,

psychology or political science in a common quest to offering explanations for the rea-

sons why and the manners in which societies remember their pasts (Olick & Robbins

1998: 106). While a society’s engagement with its memory is certainly dependent on in-

ternal factors, general reasons for the topic’s ascent in the academic discourse have been

identified. Among these are far-reaching historical transformation processes, notably the

passing of World War II witnesses, fast changes in the development of media technolo-

gies that impact the structures of entire societies, and thirdly, the effects of the post-

modern realization of a subjective and narrativized history writing that denies a factual,

non-contingent history (Erll 2011: 3f.).8 Particularly in relation to the last specified rea-

8 For a thorough introduction into the matter consult Jörn Rüsen’s “Über die Ordnung der Geschichte – Die Geschichtswissenschaft in der Debatte über Moderne, Postmoderne und Erinnerung” (1999).

15

son, the “instrumentalization of the past” and emerging “narratives of repressed

groups,” so called counter-memories, are added to the list of factors generating the

memory boom (Olick & Robbins 1998: 108).

3.1.1 Maurice Halbwachs and the Collective Memory

The French sociologist Maurice Halbwachs is generally acknowledged to have been the

‘pioneer’ of modern memory studies, the propagator of collective memory (A. Assmann

2013: 16) and the initiator of the discourse’s shift from “a biological framework into a

cultural one” (J. Assmann 1995: 125).9 Halbwachs’ first work on memory was published

in 1925 and a further development of his thoughts was posthumously released in the

1950s. His most decisive claim was that memory, whether individual or collective, al-

ways depended on the “social environment” and only functioned within a group context

(Halbwachs 1992 [1925]: 37). According to Halbwachs, the individual simultaneously

belonged to several social groups like the family, a social class or potentially a religious

community (1980 [1950]: 76). Each of these groups then created their own identities

through ‘collective frameworks of remembering’ that encompassed “what still live[d] or

[was] capable of living in the consciousness of the group” (ibid: 80). In this manner,

collective reconstructions of each group’s past became the pool for the individual’s

autobiographical memory. Halbwachs thus defined collective memory as “memory of

lived experiences” (Russel 2006: 796f.). The word ‘lived’ suggests to view the past also

as “known from without,” that is, as mediated to the individual through historical re-

cords or commemorative acts which “correspond[ed] to the most noteworthy events of

national life” (Halbwachs 1980 [1950]: 52ff.). Through this expansion, Halbwachs ap-

plied mechanisms of collective memory to “entire societies and civilizations” (Marcel &

Mucchielli 2008: 142). He was convinced of a complete “interpenetration” of individual

and collective memory, neither one being able to exist without the other (Halbwachs

1980 [1950]: 55).

While the two levels of individual and collective memory respectively have to be

regarded as closely linked, Halbwachs proposed a fundamental differentiation between

collective memory and history when he stated that “[g]eneral history starts only when

tradition ends and the [collective] memory is fading” from a group (1980 [1950]: 78).

According to this, history would be connected to “external” events that marked clear

“demarcations” between periods of time, thus concerning itself with “differences and

9 The German art historian Aby Warburg (1866-1929) and his work on the Mnemosyne Atlas likewise de-serve credit for this change of perception (J. Assmann 1995: 125).

16

contrasts” between past and present (ibid: 79 ff.). While collective memory with its in-

trinsic attachment to social groups was seen as plural in nature (Halbwachs spoke of

“several collective memories”), as oriented towards the present and a record of prevail-

ing sameness of the group, history was defined as a “unitary,” causal “summary vision

of the past” recording in detail the changes that had occurred in society (ibid: 83ff.). In

Halbwachs’ opinion “history [was] dead memory” (Olick & Robbins 1998: 110), a part

of the past that had no function in maintaining the respective group’s identity in the pre-

sent (Große-Kracht 2014: 60).10

Halbwachs’ offered a very broad definition of collective memory that allowed for

the concept to be appropriated by many neighboring disciplines, but his theory was also

critiqued to have been too undifferentiated and not consistent enough with regard to

terminology (Erll 2011: 17). Nevertheless, it provided the basis for influential contribu-

tions to the investigations into how societies relate to their past. One of them has been

developed by Pierre Nora’s rather recent concept of the lieux de mémoire.

3.1.2 Pierre Nora and the Lieux de Mémoire

The French historian Pierre Nora developed his concept of the lieux de mémoire, com-

monly translated into English as sites of memory, in the 1980s. The complete work was

published in seven volumes between 1984 and 1992. For quite some time Nora stayed

convinced that his concept was only applicable to the French society (Berger & Seiffert

2014: 12). However, as many adaptations throughout Europe and America have shown,

the theoretical approach is far from being solely France-based.11

Nora’s theory ties in with Halbwachs’ development of the notion of collective

memory. Though, for Nora, the contrary nature of history and memory only started to

develop at the beginning of the 20th century. Eventually, the massive social changes in

the post-WW II era (Große-Kracht 2014: 64) brought about a sudden “acceleration of

history” that turned them into “fundamental” opposites (Nora 1989: 7). Before that

time, history and memory had still formed a unity providing a nation with a distinct

master narrative and legitimizing the present as a logical continuation of the past (Nora

2005: 572). The 1930s proved to be the time of the “disintegration of history-memory”

(Nora 1989: 18). The national group started to perceive itself as a society; a society

which was “deeply absorbed in its own transformation and renewal” and which valued 10 For a commentary on Halbwachs’ background in positivism and his firm belief in objective history writing please compare Klaus Große-Kracht 2014, pages 60ff. 11 An assessment of the American perspective on lieux de mémoire is provided by Udo J. Hebel’s Sites of Memory in American Literatures and Cultures from 2003. A three-volume anthology on German sites of memory was edited by Etienne Francois and Hagen Schulz (Deutsche Erinnerungsorte).

17

“the future over the past” (ibid: 11f.). Such a fundamental change in the roots of the so-

cial group brought about an anxiety for a future that had become “invisible, unpredict-

able and uncontrollable” (ibid: 17). Out of fear for losing its orientation, society then

developed a deeply nostalgic longing for an anchoring past (Berger & Seiffert 2014:

16ff.) and substituted the legitimization of the present by collectivized memory for the

previous past-future continuum (Nora 2005: 572). The rupture of memory and history in

modernity resulted in a deliberate “will to remember,” which formed a necessary condi-

tion for the existence of sites of memory (Nora 1989: 19). The spontaneous, living and

real environments of memory, the “organic remembering” (Nikosz & Ákos: 5) in so-

called milieux de mémoire disappeared behind an artificially created collective memory

(Nora 1989: 12). Nora (ibid: 7) concludes that “we speak so much of memory because

there is so little of it left.”

Sites of memory generally emerge at “the end of the tradition of memory” (Nora

1989: 11) and construct society’s “intellectual, political [and] historical frameworks”

through the “most spectacular symbols” of the nation (ibid: 12). They can be material or

immaterial and become relevant only through being accepted and applied in the remem-

bering social group (Francois 2005: 9). In a layered structure past, present and future

simultaneously crystallize in these sites of memory (Berger & Seiffert 2014: 21). This

palimpsest nature brings earlier ‘horizons of (future) expectation’ (German: “Erwar-

tungshorizonte”) into the present (Große-Kracht 2014: 67f.).

Instead of becoming more and more precise (or narrow), Nora’s concept of the

sites of memory has experienced a “semantic extension” throughout the years of its de-

velopment (Große-Kracht 2014: 66). On the one hand, this makes the concept applica-

ble to a broad range of contexts and fields of study. On the other hand, however, one

also has proceed with caution not to omit Nora’s original intention of reflecting, decon-

structing and challenging emerging national(istic) master narratives (Berger & Seiffert

2014: 25f.). Sites of memory should not be treated as parts of a canonized narrative with

a fixed and established meaning but need to be considered in their palimpsest and plu-

ralistic nature that mirrors prevailing memory-conflicts (ibid: 34f.). In particular Nora’s

considerations about the disruptive origins of sites of memory and their layered tempo-

rality need to be borne in mind for the upcoming analysis of DA’s conception.

3.1.3 Collective Memory and Cultural Identity

Numerous scholars have refined Halbwachs’ general thesis of “memory as an entirely

collective phenomenon” and, while his idea of the social nature of personal and collec-

18

tive memories is still taken as the basis, many have called for a more differentiated

model of group memory applicable to more diverse cultural contexts (Russel 2006:

797). Nora’s concept, for instance, features general considerations and, despite its appli-

cation to French developments, it can be re-appropriated to other cultural backgrounds.

The academic applications of both Halbwachs’ and Nora’s theories show that the study

of collective memory is based on blending “cross-cultural and culturally specific con-

cepts” (Große-Kracht 2014: 801). Before turning to distinguishing features of collective

memory within the United States, Jan and Aleida Assmann’s indubitably coherent

cross-cultural conception of collective memory will be introduced.

The two German scholars also base their constantly evolving theoretical framework

on Halbwachs’ work. They are able to specify and extend the Frenchman’s theory

where it still lacked depth and coherence and to refine it by showing that a society’s

memory consists of three interconnected categories or layers. Especially important for

the nation-specific analysis in the case of DA is their view on the intimate connection

between memory and cultural identity. In this thesis collective memory will be applied

in the sense proposed by Assmann and Assmann – an enhancement of Halbwachs’ the-

ory in the light profound societal changes as brought forward by Nora.

Jan Assmann agrees with Halbwachs’ most important legacy of the rootedness of

collective memory within the social sphere when he asserts that “[e]very individual be-

longs to numerous (…) groups and therefore entertains numerous collective self-images

and memories” (1995: 127). However, the two scholars profoundly revise Halbwachs’

drastic dichotomy between collective memory and history. They propose an intermedi-

ate stage of “objectivized culture and of organized or ceremonial communication”

which belongs to neither of Halbwachs’ two categories and plays a vital role in produc-

ing a group’s sense of self (ibid: 127). According to them, the ‘pieces’ of memory that

stop being part of ‘lived’ remembering do not necessarily fade into the realm of history.

Like this, a more complex composition of a society’s memory and identity is devised

(A. Assmann 2013: 23). The concept denominates collective memory to be a superordi-

nate category that entails two different modes of remembering – both equally important

to the reconstruction of the society’s past and its perception of self (J. Assmann 2008:

110).

The first mode of remembering is known as communicative memory, which is iden-

tical to Halbwachs’ collective memory. It is “exclusively [based] on everyday commu-

nications” that enable the individual to “compos[e] a memory which (…) is (…) socially

19

mediated and (…) related to the group” (J. Assmann 1995: 127). As it is carried and cir-

culated by group members, the communicative memory has a “limited temporal hori-

zon” of no more than eighty to a hundred years (ibid). It is thus concerned with the “re-

cent past” and contributes to the pool of memories forming the autobiographical frame

of the individual. Consequentially, communicative memory is never institutionalized,

remains within the informal domain and is passed on without specialists in charge of its

content or use (J. Assmann 2008: 111ff.).

Entirely central to the identity-producing function of collective memory within a

society is the second subcategory of collective memory which is referred to as cultural

memory. In contrast to the contemporary time frame of communicative memory, cul-

tural memory is “characterized by its distance from the everyday” and its composition

of elements from an absolute past (J. Assmann 1995: 129). It is made up of selected con-

tents that stay relevant over a long period of time because they are connected to “fateful

events of the past” (ibid). These fixed points are “exteriorized, objectified, and stored

away in symbolic forms” (J. Assmann 2008: 110), which means that museums, monu-

ments, libraries, ceremonial acts etc. carry the memory and act as triggers that establish

contact between the individual and the symbol. As a result, cultural memory is mediated

by “institutions of preservation and reembodiment” that select the events to be remem-

bered culturally via external carriers (ibid: 111). Selecting always implies neglecting

and in this way the choice of contents can reveal powerful and ideological influences on

the reproduction of memory. In order to become and stay relevant within the social

group, cultural memory “requires for its actualization [on] certain occasions” like cere-

monies, anniversaries or other mnemonic rituals (ibid: 112). In this way, it is constantly

reproduced, i.e. remembered, in changing presents and has to be flexibly interpreted

based on the respective dominant mind-sets (cf. J. Assmann 1995: 130). For this reason

the transmission of cultural memory’s symbols and materializations from one genera-

tion to the next stabilizes it, while their re-interpretations in changing cultural circum-

stances endow the memory with fluidity.

As has been demonstrated, cultural memory is based on the selection of a “small

segment of the past” that constitutes a “continuous present” for the respective group (A.

Assmann 2008: 100). This actively remembered past, i.e. the constantly reproduced cul-

tural memory, constitutes the canon of a society. It is endowed with a “sanctified status

(…) charged with the highest meaning and value” and consists of “normative and for-

mative texts, places, persons, artifacts, and myths” (ibid). However, as remembering is

20

the “exception of (…) cultural memory,” there is also its passive supplier: the archive

(ibid: 98). It ‘stores’ cultural relics that have not been selected for interpretation or actu-

alization within society. These pieces of information are not yet eternally forgotten but

remain “potentially available” for future contextualization, thus allowing for an interac-

tion between the two realms (ibid: 103f.). The archive is described as “the basis of what

can be said in the future about the present when it will have become the past” (ibid:

102).

Cultural memory is defined to entail “the past as it is remembered” by a social

group (J. Assmann 2008: 113). A third notion, which lies somewhat outside of collective

memory, is the past as it is reconstructed by historians. It takes no concrete material

form, is freed from the inconvenient forgetting and, hence, may be unlimitedly progres-

sive and expendable (cf. ibid). The knowledge about the past is entirely associated with

the sphere of science (cf. J. Assmann 1995: 126) and it will for this thesis’ purpose be re-

ferred to as history. The highly important characteristic that distinguishes history from

collective memory is their respective relation to the concept of identity.

“Memory is the faculty that enables us to form an awareness of selfhood, both on

the personal and on the collective level” (J. Assmann 2008: 109). On the personal level

this relation to one’s past is mainly formed within the realms of communicative mem-

ory, simply by belonging to various social groups. The collective or cultural identity

evolves out of cultural memory and helps maintain the relatively stable nature of a soci-

ety over a lengthy period of time (J. Assmann 1995: 129). Based on an almost anthropo-

logical need, human beings develop a common cultural memory to distinguish between

“those who belong and those who do not” (ibid: 130 & J. Assmann 2008: 114) and as a

result the group “becomes visible to itself and to others” (J. Assmann 1995 133). The re-

sulting distinctive self-image leads to a unity maintained, first and foremost, by a con-

trast to the outside ‘other’ (ibid: 130). The frames of memory offer concrete reference

points to a culture’s common origins (A. Assmann 2013: 20). They can sometimes be

surrounded by an aura of myth, but derive their true authority from providing cultural

orientation for several generations (ibid: 22f.). In this way, the deliberately selected con-

tents of cultural memory, made available via its institutions, the media and through

regular actualizations and the group’s collective identity create and determine each

other. Pierre Nora’s sites of memory form part of the cultural memory thus defined.

In sum, cultural memory uses the past “that can be reclaimed as ‘ours’” to perform

a constant identity function (J. Assmann 2008: 113); it is “knowledge with an identity-

21

index” (ibid: 114). This means that mere “knowledge about the past [i.e. history] ac-

quires properties and functions of memory if it is related to the concept of identity”

(ibid: 113). The crucial complementarity of these two notions coupled with the necessity

for a parallel existence, is a feature of society that is highly relevant to the analysis of

the DA conflict. Institutions of cultural memory provide the version of the past that

permits the group’s identification as self. Historians, on the other hand, are expected to

critically and scientifically review these constructions of memory, thereby confining

powerfully ideological influences (A. Assmann 2013: 22ff.). Such a system enables a

contestation and discussion of identity productions, also allowing for the introduction of

negative or even traumatic events into society’s collective memory. Even though the no-

tion of objective history has been denied validity in postmodern and post-linguistic-turn

thinking (Olick & Robins 1998: 110), this thesis holds the opinion that an awareness of

‘constructed’ history does not interfere with its control-function. Expansive history,

without a controlled and immediate identity-function, still highlights the contingency

behind any culturally-mediated pasts. In conclusion, “identities are projects and prac-

tices, not properties” of human beings and they are embedded in repeated and constantly

appropriated social narratives (ibid: 122). In the case of DA, it is necessary to investigate

the single and combined effects of the park’s selection of cultural symbols on the visi-

tors’ collective identity.

3.2 Cultural Memory and History in the Case of Disney’s America

The journalist Bentley Boyd (1993) accurately pinpointed the cultural circumstances of

the conflict at the beginning of the 1990s when he remarked that Disney “[had] chosen

to specialize in history at a time when history [was] a sensitive topic.”12 Of special con-

cern with all discussions of this kind is the radical distinction between ‘true’ and ‘false’

handlings of the past. In the case of DA, the former was exemplified by the nearby Ma-

nassas battlefield, while DA represented its complete opposite. Its wrong representation

of the past was declared to destroy the real one in “a crime against the national heritage”

(NY Times 1994a).

A fundamental misconception throughout this debate lay in the use of the term his-

tory. A response by Christopher Miller of the PEC in a reassessing 2012-interview ex-

emplifies this thought: “History should be natural and original – not interpreted”

12 At the same time that Disney’s America provoked heated debates another project concerned with American cultural memory caused a public uproar in the United States. For a very informative and thor-ough summary of the controversy surrounding the Enola Gay exhibition please turn to Michael J. Ho-gan’s 1996 article “The Enola Gay Controversy: History, Memory, and the Politics of Presentation”

22

(Duhring & Mekinc 2012). Assmann and Assmann’s definition of history and its inevi-

table ‘mediatedness’ highlight the difficulties with the notion being thus understood.

Both DA and Manassas were (and are) to perform an identity producing function. As

was shown, the Manassas Civil War site was witness to (apparently) culturally valuable

events and was declared the property of all Americans (Baker 1994). Through DA the

Disney Company envisioned to send the “overall message (…) that the United States

[was] the best of all possible places” and “the best of all possible systems” (Orlando

Sentinel 1993). These considerations lead to the conclusion that the whole debate was in

fact held over an identity producing past as remembered in cultural memory and not in

history. This perception calls for a reconsideration of cultural memory as a graduated

category which includes differently valued memory-institutions and varied strategies of

mediating cultural memory. The gradations can be based on the different primary func-

tions that the respective approaches of memory fulfill, most notably entertainment or

education, and their close connection to selected contents, mediation strategies and re-

ceptive practices. The evaluation of these categories is inherently subjective, which may

be declared the root of all disagreement.

Disney’s version was to be the cultural memory “of the entertainment business”

(The Daily Press 1993), closely related to the company’s interest in commercial success

and an entirely satisfied audience. A visit to DA was to be a remarkable experience

arousing lasting emotions and preferably leading to a desire for return visits. Disney

wanted to evoke heartfelt feelings in a sensual, visual and conclusively narrated sur-

rounding: “We want to bring our American experience to life” (Eisner 1994a). Their ap-

proach to cultural memory was to function, first of all, as entertainment by perpetuating

a celebratory collective American identity out of the “diversity and values that have

made” the USA “the beacon of hope (…) around the world” (Eisner 1994b). However,

such a version did not comply with more educationally oriented materializations of cul-

tural memory, for example the Manassas battlefield park. There, great emphasis was

placed on the physicality of the site of historic events, their visible symbolic remains

and a factual complexity of the narration (these aspects will be thoroughly addressed in

chapters 4 & 6). Important to note is the limited perception with which many historians

and members of the opposition regarded cultural memory at the time of DA. They

painted a dramatic black and white picture without considering the different gradients

and functions of diverse approaches to cultural memory, their system of reciprocal con-

trol and their possible complementary nature.

23

Disney kept highlighting its desire to form an effective synergy with Virginia’s es-

tablished historic sites, so that, together, they could offer parallel mediations of cultural

memory. In the heated debate, the company presumably sought to appease the opposi-

tion with statements of this kind, but the interest to indeed carve out a niche in the net-

work of sites of memory appeared sincere, too: “Disney’s America will open another

window on the past but it will not block the existing view” (Peter Rummel in Groer

1994a). Like this, Disney hoped to profit from the historic surroundings while at the

same time sparking renewed interest in all of the available facets of the country’s past as

it was remembered (Satullo 1994).

In combination with academic history, less commercial cultural memory offers

might have de-mystified DA by pointing to its strategies of telling a story in a certain

way for a certain purpose and therefore curtailing the feared spread of a commercially-

distorted version of memory (Satullo 1994). Instead, in particular the historians who

were involved in the controversy were criticized for demonstrating a “lack of confi-

dence in themselves” and their approaches because they were doubtful about a fruitful

co-existence of the memories offered (Cameron 1994). This categorical rejection of cul-

tural memory with a primarily entertaining function lies at the heart of this thesis’

analysis.

3.3 Remembering the American Way

The aforementioned conceptualizations of collective memory and its relation to history

as well as identity lend themselves to general, crosscultural applications. To provide a

coherent analysis of how cultural memory clashed with DA’s entertainment approach, it

remains essential to consider a number of peculiarly American preoccupations with

their past. In the following, three topics that are of recurring interest for American cul-

tural memory as it crystallizes in and around DA will be introduced.

3.3.1 American Exceptionalism

To begin with, the semantically elusive notion of American exceptionalism will be de-

fined as the “the idea that the United States is not just the richest and most powerful of

the world’s (…) states but is also politically and morally exceptional” (Hodgson 2009:

10). While some scholars have declared the end of American exceptionalism, the con-

cept attracts continued academic attention, which points to prevailing implications for

the society. This is further suggested by the fact that “the American public continue[s]

(…) to subscribe to a belief in the nation’s distinctiveness” despite contrary academic

discussions (Carter 1997: 84). Like this, the notion remains socially consequential as

24

long as it is perpetuated by manifestations of American cultural memory and infused

with relevance to the ordinary citizen. The fact that the observation above dates back to

1997 makes it all the more noteworthy for the case of DA. The theme park’s chances of

economic success would have increased, had it been integrated into a market receptive

to its overall conception. Hence, enthusiasm for the celebration of America’s ‘excep-

tional’ past, present and future was a vital prerequisite for the project’s development –

one that was already hinted at through the word choices of the promotional material. Ul-

timately, Disney also proved that more often than not there is a close “connection be-

tween U.S.-American cultures of memory (…) and commercial interests” (Hebel 2008:

51; also cf. chapter 4 & 5).

In the United States, national exceptionalism has been employed “to explain [the]

moral and political success” of the nation (Kammen 1993: 25). It tends to highlight the

allegedly unique and peculiar characteristics that render the USA positively distinct

from all other countries. There are manifold opinions on which features constitute

American exceptionalism: economic opportunities, social equality, a flawless capitalist

system, the true democracy or, quite simply, freedom are among them (Hodgson 2009:

11ff.). The sum of qualities like these provides a meaningful basis to which Americans

“attach (…) their experiences as a nation” (Kammen 1993. 33). In particular the identity

of foreign born citizens can become a socially constructed “compound identity” with

American exceptionalism functioning as a cohesive “surrogate for history” that per-

forms a uniting function (ibid: 26ff.).

American exceptionalism generally infuses “ideological or (…) mythic” narratives

and influences the individual’s “emotional reality” as a US-citizen (Kammen 1993: 11).

Nowadays, many cultural narratives are inherently connected to a typically “American

heterogeneity,” which automatically evokes the notion of cultural pluralism (ibid: 3). As

mentioned above, American exceptionalism has been academically assessed in an ex-

tremely critical manner for some time now, especially so the prevailing implication of a

moral superiority over other nations (ibid: 32). However, an ongoing social significance

for the representation of American cultural memory and the construction of an Ameri-

can identity could still be detected in DA.

3.3.2 A Dual Experience of Identity

American cultural memory is produced within both public and private spheres, each

with a seemingly contradictory emphasis (Kempf 2002: 48). Particularly in the first half

of the 20th century political institutions promoted a hegemonic, Anglo-centric cultural

25

identity, next to which the multi-vocal remembering of the “’vernacular culture’ (…)

survived in the interstices” (Boyer 1993b). The American historian Michael Kammen

situates the tradition-oriented vernacular or private culture within the broad network of

“communities and families, collectors and maecenas[sic], poets and historians, and to-

day the media” (Kempf 2002: 49); the list is extended by the great number of privately

funded American preservation organizations (Hebel 2008: 56). Together they constitute

a “formless market” concerned with cultural memory and fueled by an all-

encompassing nostalgia, i.e. the longing for a fading or faded past (Kempf 2002: 49). By

contrast, the “management of the future” has been the focus of more recent American

politics (ibid). The state advocates forward-looking policies and highly values progres-

sive narratives of the past. In the American context, this kind of focus is subsumed un-

der notion of “the collectivization of destiny” (ibid). In theory, nostalgia and progress

enter into a constant ‘dialogue’ to produce an American cultural memory and a resulting

identity that are not rooted in one-dimensional narratives (ibid: 53). DA was challenged

by historians, politicians and by educationally-oriented memory institutions for its un-

critical combination of progressive and nostalgic features. All parties feared that the

combination of the park’s elements would merely produce a deeply patriotic version of

American exceptionalism.

Remarkable about the American dual experience is the creation of “a whole whose

parts are often at odds with each other, yet remain parts of the same whole” (Boyer

1993a: 252). The overall coexistence of the official progressive and of the multi-vocally

nostalgic components of cultural memory and identity is what constitutes the specific,

some might now say exceptional, American character of looking simultaneously ahead

and back; a character that can be said to include a “dual citizenship which might consti-

tute the true originality of [the] American experience” (Kempf 2002: 49).

3.3.3 American Cultural Memory and Civil Religion

Another consequential feature of American memory that surfaces in the DA controversy

is civil religion. This concept denotes “the existence in American culture of a set of

shared beliefs, myths, ‘meaning systems,’ and historical images forming a functionally

religious structure,” i.e. a social surrogate religion (Frisch 1989: 1132). This transfer of

religious rhetoric, symbolism and behaviorism to the secular society originates in the

beginnings of the United States. The “collective urge for the celebration of common his-

torical achievements and for the affirmation of the newly created collective identity”

developed around the declaration of statehood and has been maintained and affirmed

26

ever since (Hebel 2008: 53). It manifests itself in “collective [acts of] veneration” that

often become visible at “largely uncontested sites of national memory” (ibid).

Among such sites are, for instance, Civil War battlegrounds like the one at Manas-

sas that have gained almost shrine-like qualities. As will be shown, the physicality of

such sites makes them “especially useful for dramatizing the historicity of the nation”

(Olick & Robbins 1998: 125). Commemorations of the Civil War on, or simply through,

the battlefield thus confirm “that the moment recalled is both significant and informed

by a moral message” (Winter 2008: 62). On personal levels, participants “affirm their

faith that (…) [cultural memory] has a meaning” (ibid: 70) and that it qualifies as a

common reference point for a collectively shared identity. In the debates surrounding

DA, the manifestation of civil religion at Manassas provided the sharp contrast to the

park’s contested attempt at creating what may aptly be called the ‘surrogate for a surro-

gate’.

In combination with the construction mechanisms and the functions of collective

memory in societies, these defining characteristics of American cultural memory are the

backdrop against which the concept of DA and the national storm of protest it provoked

must be set. With its Virginia-endeavor, Disney attempted to mediate the American past

outside of fantastical products and was greeted by a complex network of established in-

stitutions and expectations.

27

4 Mediating the Past – The Real and the Quasi-Real

So far it has become apparent that various and often conflicting approaches to remem-

bering the American past co-exist. The American cultural memory landscape ranges

from traditional history museums to popular theme parks. If these two are considered as

the extremes of a scale, there are many intermediate stages that demonstrate how all in-

stitutions are interrelated and influence each other. Consequently, difficulties arise when

attempting to strictly categorize the offers made. The influential American historians

Warren Leon and Roy Rosenzweig propose the following, very broad definition of his-

tory museums as “institutions that display historical artifacts, or even reproductions or

representations of artifacts, in the formal effort to teach about the past” (1989: xiv). The

later discussed examples of historic battlefield sites and of living-history museums

comply with this definition while history theme parks remain a contested notion. How-

ever, what is apparent with all institutions is that they “cannot be isolated from the com-

plex social, cultural and historical contexts in which they are situated” (ibid: xix). In this

regard, high importance is attached to the audience’s expectations of a display. The

more diverse a visitor group is, the more difficult it will be to satisfy its members’ re-

spective pre-existing knowledge and to still present a wholesome, critical approach to

the topic of concern (ibid: xx). Pre-existing knowledge can be understood as what the

American historian Susan A. Crane calls the “understanding of history through [cul-

tural] memory” (1997: 57), which makes it the cause of many historians’ anxieties:

“[T]he visiting public wants exhibits to be ‘credible’, but it also wants its own ideology

reaffirmed” (Barthel 1996: 358). Certainly not all offers in the highly competitive eco-

nomic field of cultural memory are devoid of any critical approaches but the observa-

tion above underlines the significance of the target groups. In the analysis of the con-

frontation between DA’s and more academically oriented representations of the past, the

audience expectations appear to be highly significant.

In 1994, a survey was conducted to gain insights into American citizens engage-

ment with their past. The prevailing widespread belief that Americans were disengaged

from their past was countered by the results. Despite a dawning distancing from the “tri-

umphal national narrative,” the appeal of the past in connection to family history was

described as strong and attractive (Rosenzweig 2000: 271). According to this, Ameri-

cans eagerly engaged with the memory of their nation by focusing on the link between

the historical circumstances and the personal family memories. In this way, one has to

think of “the historical narrative less [as] a finished story, than a dynamic project” of

28

“parallel accounts of the past,” so that cultural memory surfaces in the shape of various

personal stories embedded in the larger national narrative (Shapiro 1997: 2). The sur-

vey’s results strengthen the position of non-academic approaches to cultural memory,

which have claimed their place in the landscape of offers and are legitimated by being

accepted and frequented by an audience whose members seemingly embrace such step-

ping-stones for a connection with their autobiographical pasts.

4.1 Heritage Tourism

“History sells” because “it locates family stories in bigger, more universal narratives”

(Winter 2001: 62). With this proposition Winter taps into the results of the aforemen-

tioned study. The memory boom, under which he subsumes the engagement of aca-

demic studies with cultural and individual memory and identity, is paralleled by lay-

men’s interest in the same topics. The public attention is met by offers of the very prof-

itable industry commonly known as heritage tourism. In line with the Longman Dic-

tionary (2009 “heritage”), this paper refers to heritage in the most basic cultural under-

standing as “traditional beliefs, values [and] customs” of a society. The products of the

heritage industry cater to the demands of an affluent population and have “turn[ed]

identity into a commodity” ready for immediate consumption (Winter 2001: 62).

The American sociologist Diane Barthel traces heritage tourism’s ever-increasing

popularity back to the tourists’ longing for “nostalgic leisure experiences” that “offer a

liminal ‘time-out’ from contemporary society, a chance to play in the past” (1996: 355).

This leisure experience is often based on “a desire to be in a cultural environment dis-

tanced and different in place and time from what one has at home” (Bajc 2007: 2). Sev-

eral features enable the deliberate production of a rupture between the everyday and the

nostalgically experienced past. For instance, there can be historical cultural artifacts

whose materiality offers a chance of attachment for the cultural memories of the ob-

servers. Likewise, a reproduction of “life as it was or is thought to have been” (ibid)

provides a narrative frame to host the “experience of the reconstruction of collective life

that has gone by” (ibid: 3). Through its tangibility the objectified narrative transforms an

“experience of imagining” into the “experience of reliving” (ibid: 8).

The leisure experience is further activated by “being in a particular place where one

is able to feel and cognize life as it was” (Bajc 2007: 8). The place-based narrative of the

past helps to attach a collective identity to a concrete frame, ready to be experienced.

Like this, collective memory is not only attached to abstract mental notions but also to

specific settings and concrete stages. Thus, it is the ultimate aim of tourism agents to

29

declare an area a culturally meaningful site (ibid: 7). Most memory experiences of this

kind are simultaneously shared by groups of tourists, so that the individual travelers are

able to “imagine themselves as a collectivity by creating awareness in each person that

there are others who identify themselves in relation to particular ideas and realities in a

similar way” (ibid: 4).

With regard to the group experience, one can assume that there are “culturally

coded patterns of tourist behaviour,” i.e. “culturally coded escape attempts” in the pro-

duction of nostalgic memory outings (Edensor 2001: 60). Although tourism is perceived

to be removed from the everyday, vacationers do not abandon the rules of how to be-

have in certain settings. Consequently, tourist behavior can be considered a performance

that is based on “common sense understandings about what activities should take place”

(ibid: 63). Such a ‘cultural common sense’ has to be thought of as socially developed,

specific to the respective place and constantly renewed by means of reproductions. Di-

versions may be reprimanded by fellow participants of the performance, yet the rules of

conduct also open up the possibility of purposely challenging or updating prevailing be-

haviorisms. With regard to all the sites of American heritage tourism discussed in this

paper, the “increasingly staged nature of tourism” (ibid: 71) and the ambivalence it pro-

duces “as the desire to escape and the pleasures of conformity clash” must be consid-

ered (ibid: 77).

In sum, the consequential considerations of profit-minded tourism enterprises re-

garding the form and content of what they publically present must not be underesti-

mated. Nevertheless, the visitors’ expectations and their ‘power’ as consumers in the

creation of the nostalgic leisure experience deserve similar attention. The success of a

site of heritage tourism depends on the balanced interaction between producer and con-

sumer, so that both groups’ interests create a common frame in which particular pasts

can become more prominent than others. On the one hand, this is the case because these

pasts are OFFERED for joint remembering while, on the other hand, the consumers

CHOOSE them to be worth experiencing (Bajc 2007: 11f.). Such a creation process neces-

sarily entails diverging public opinions on the appropriateness of single heritage offers.

In anticipation of the upcoming discussion on the mediation of memory in DA, this

means that “a theme that may connote ‘fun’ for one person (…) may connote sacrile-

gious and offensive meanings to another” (Paradis 2004: 207).

30

4.2 Authenticity or Authenticities?

Heritage tourism is a “commodification of the past” (Waitt 2000: 838) and a powerful

business in the construction and anchoring of collective memory and identity. Discus-

sions about cultural tourism often revolve around the issue of authenticity, with market-

conscious commodifications being frequently deemed counterfeit (i.e. inauthentic) rep-

resentations of the ‘real’ past (Macdonald 2013: 109f.). Even though the notion of au-

thenticity has been widely used to judge a tourism project’s overall quality or trustwor-

thiness, the term is often employed based on divergent definitions (ibid: 121). In the fol-

lowing, two conceptions will be discussed that are directly related to the controversy

over DA’s entertaining memory approach and, additionally, offer explanations for the

“consumption practices” of memory costumers (Chronis & Hampton 2006: 367).

First, authenticity conventionally denotes the “accurate, genuine, real, true, or ac-

tual,” which places the authentic at one end of a “true / false continuum” (Waitt 2000:

846). To determine the grade of authenticity of a thing, performance, etc. it needs to be

compared to “an absolute, autonomous reality” (ibid). This conception contrasts the ex-

plicitly objective authenticity with the “relatively ersatz or even fake” end of the contin-

uum (Macdonald 2013: 113). Due to this classification, many heritage sites or museums

feel obligated to provide such an authenticity in the sense of “historical truth in every

detail” (Gable & Handler 1996: 570), while presentations at sites of overtly commercial

cultural tourism are evaluated as “staged authenticity” (MacCannell in Macdonald 2013:

111). With respect to this contrast, the impact of the audience’s expectations on the cho-

sen contents and mediation strategies needs to be reconsidered: To what extent are cus-

tomers of heritage tourism actually concerned with conventional authenticity?

A second concept of authenticity provides a possible answer to this question and

opens up another perspective on authentic tourist experiences. Further, it allows for the

simultaneous inclusion of historic sites and history theme parks into the considerations.

Embedded in a post-structuralist paradigm, this conception defines authenticity as an

invented and negotiated “social construction” (Waitt 2000: 846). Here, there is “no ab-

solute reality” against which objects of investigation could be measured because reality

is likewise regarded as a linguistically mediated interpretation (ibid). Authenticity is

thus a produced perspective that is entirely selective and intrinsically connected to a

“pluralistic and relativist epistemology” in which “multiple and plural meanings of and

about the same things can be constructed from different perspectives” (Wang 1999:

354). This constructivist theory still views cultural tourists on a quest for authenticity,

but rather for a “symbolic authenticity” instead of the above-mentioned absolute authen-

31

ticity (ibid: 356). Consequently, the relevance of the awareness of ‘staged’ authenticity

is questioned because the actual point of dispute is how credible, convincing and satis-

fying a (re)presentation of the past appears to the tourists (Gable & Handler 1996:

574f.).

Based on the second conception, the Chinese sociologist Ning Wang introduced the

notion of existential authenticity, which is not connected to measurably authentic dis-

plays but is rather activated by the tourists’ perceived experiences (1999: 259). Many

tourism offers can be observed in the light of existential authenticity, which enables the

individual to connect with an identity that is located in a somewhat romantic and nos-

talgic “space with its cultural and symbolic boundaries which demarcate the profane

[everyday] from the sacred [tourism past]” (ibid: 360). An authentic experience can,

therefore, be evoked by a credibly performed or mediated simulation. In a simulated

past, physical objects may aid in triggering immersion as they incite the tourists’

“imagination and transport them in narrative worlds” (Chronis & Hampton 2006: 367).

Within this frame of thought, “the oxymoronic promise of an authentic re-enactment” of

Civil War battles (Rich 1994), which DA was heavily criticized for, reveals its possible

determination. When reconsidering the tourists’ alleged preoccupation with conven-

tional authenticity, it appears that a well-substituted lack thereof does not hinder the

surge of the powerful feeling of existential authenticity: “Tourism may be fantasy. But

such fantasy is a real one – it is a fantastic feeling” (Wang 1999: 360). In this context,

the experience of the simulated authenticity of the past “is a powerful force through

which the present of a particular collectivity is justified and its future envisioned” (Bajc

2007: 13).

Naturally, such a production of authenticity can use “a sanitized and mythical

past,” which lends itself particularly well to the production of an emotional narrative

and attracts a large number of visitors (Waitt 2000: 845). Critics generally fear that such

a marketable version of the past could overwhelm other more critical, research-based

interpretations (ibid: 848). It is exactly this dispute which contributed massively to the

DA controversy. The opposing parties judged the qualities of Virginia’s presentations of

the past by fundamentally different understandings of authenticity and deprived existen-

tial authenticity of any cultural value. While the emotional power of existential authen-

ticity should not be underestimated, one constantly needs to be aware of the ideological

and economic control mechanisms connected to it (Macdonald 2013: 135).

32

4.3 Civil War Battlefields in American Cultural Memory

The Manassas National Battlefield Park near Haymarket, Virginia, was of central con-

cern in the memory-conflict of 1994. The battleground and the theme park were de-

picted as complete opposites in the representation of the American past. Many histori-

ans and journalists applied the conventional use of authenticity as just discussed and

portrayed Manassas as pure authenticity and DA as the entirely inauthentic negative.

It has been claimed that “violence tends to inspire remembering through tourism”

(Bajc 2007: 11). Particularly American Civil War battlegrounds seem to exude a special

aura which anchors the American identity in the particular sites. They invite their visi-

tors to collectively remember in public and to worship the American Civil War as a sa-

lient event with a lasting effect on the definition of the national self (Winter 2008:

62ff.). Instead of representing only the memories of the factual war action, battlefields

should also be seen as prominent social symbols “of reunion, progress, and peace” (Pat-

terson 1989: 140). Today, as the Civil War has long faded from communicative mem-

ory, such superordinate symbolisms can be expected to accompany any representation

of war engagements as the sites of battle have become media for communicating both

the factual historical knowledge and the current cultural identity of a group (Schindler

2003: 21).

In order to keep their status as popular destinations in the competitive field of heri-

tage tourism, Civil War battlegrounds need to provide an attractive version of memory

that satisfies the preferences of their visitors. Resultantly, the “sites of terror” have for

the most part been turned into sites of pleasure (Bajc 2007: 2). Battlefields rely on their

promised combination of relaxing entertainment and informative education that is di-

rected at historic laymen (Schindler 2003: 2ff.). Like this, they maintain their status as

tourist magnets, which attract immense numbers of visitors per year and simultaneously

highlight their value as nationally significant symbols (Patterson 1989: 140ff.). As can

be deduced, historic sites, too, depend on their patrons’ acceptance of the chosen man-

ner of the presentation.

The majority of travelers are drawn to battlefield parks “in the hopes of an immedi-

ate encounter with authentic, physical remains.” The sites derive their right to exist from

that “tangible evidence of the past” that sets them apart from the world outside their

borders (Barthel 1996: 345). Consequently, battlefields are marketed as different from

the profane everyday surrounding and are publically perceived as sacred grounds (Pat-

terson 1989: 128). By definition the battleground is entirely place-based; a quality that

further sets it apart from the physically unbound construction of theme parks (Schindler

33

2003: 239). In the conventional sense of authenticity, the ground is the historically au-

thentic location of war action. The power of the physical location in triggering a certain

imaginative and also emotional experience is the major advantage of battlefield associa-

tions in the contested tourist market. Manassas, for example, has been described as

“consecrated by the blood” of the soldiers (Kanelis 1994) and hence exudes a mixture of

fascination for and belated horror about the memory of the historical action. These sen-

timents, in combination with the visitors’ pre-existing knowledge about the war’s key

role in the national narrative, evoke a particular mindset that makes people “think

deeply about hardship and horror, duty and honor, pain and sacrifice” (ibid). The physi-

cal presence in the space can trigger the imaginative sentiments of hearing “the sound of

canon fire” and feeling “the spiritual presence” of the deceased (ibid). Thus, the site it-

self is a battlefield’s most powerful weapon in the quest for conventionally authentic

experiences as it would have been impossible to conjure up the space in the context of

DA, which could thus only have evoked existential authenticity.

While the space itself certainly bore witness to the historical events, in terms of

narrative authenticity an “authoritative narrative” has been encountered in a significant

number of battlefield parks (Holyfield & Beacham 2011: 437). It includes a selective

‘mythification’ of the Civil War and its legacy, privileges the perspective of white

Americans and erases slavery and the involvement of black soldiers in Northern armies

from its narratives (ibid: 442). The symbolic physicality of the sites and their natural

beauty are often interpreted as symbols for the reputed circumstance “that the scars of

even our bloodiest conflicts could be healed, that out of warfare could come reunion and

regeneration” (Patterson 1989: 143). The integrity of nature becomes a sign of national

peace and physical recovery, whitewashing continuing racial controversies. It is made to

stand for the romanticized retreat in opposition, first, to a chaotic and bloody past and,

secondly, to an overwhelmingly fast-paced, equally chaotic urban modernity. The

healed-wounds-of-the-past image fits the mentioned dual core of the American experi-

ence: looking back nostalgically in order to excel in the progressive future (ibid: 129f.).

A simplified, aesthetically pleasing access to the nation’s origins satisfies many visitors’

expectations and ensures an ongoing acceptance of the sites (Schindler 2003: 245).

As a result, the asserted sharp distinction between the authenticity of the Manassas

battlefield and the falsity of DA cannot be supported. However, it remains important

that the battleground can rely on its unique, historical location, which draws its value

from the cultural meaning of the events having taken place there. To what extent this

34

makes the “touring of some of our nation’s battlefields (…) ‘fun,’ but not in the way the

Disney moguls envision” will be thoroughly dissected in chapter six (Kanelis 1994).

35

5 Themed Entertainment in the USA

Theme parks are the perfect models for the broader phenomenon of theming within the

leisure industry. Themes do not develop naturally but are conceptual and purposeful

“social constructions, contrived and applied to the landscape by certain individuals with

their own unique perspectives” (Paradis 2004: 198). In the USA, the branch’s growing

popularity parallels the rise of the economically oriented tourism industry in the 1960s

and 1970s (ibid: 195). Themed areas were and are introduced to generate increased prof-

its by endowing originally profane products with uniqueness (ibid: 202) and by promot-

ing “the virtual and experiential consumption of places” (ibid: 200). Before turning to

theme parks as fantastical, self-sufficient environments with an inherent focus on pure

entertainment, the widely-employed, themed mediation strategies of re-enactment and

living-history deserve more thorough attention.

5.1 Re-enactments and Living-History

The American cultural theorist Vanessa Agnew identified the popularity of re-

enactments and living-history as an indicator of the affective turn in the mediation of the

past. The affective turn is characterized “by conjectural interpretations of the past, the

collapsing of temporalities and an emphasis on affect, individual experience and daily

life rather than historical events, structures and processes” (Agnew 2007: 299). Like

this, both themed mediation strategies are embedded in the same theoretical framework.

Around the time of DA, a large number of American tourists preferred to engage in en-

tertainment activities rather than solely educational institutions (Leon & Rosenzweig

1989: xxii). This sentiment seems to have prevailed and nowadays shows itself in the

tourists’ fascination with offers committed to playfully “presencing the past” (Mac-

Donald 2013: 161) or with those dedicated to experiences “transcending the boundaries

between past and present” (ibid: 158). Re-enactments and living-history renditions are

hence frequently used to improve the accessibility of the presented content in educa-

tionally-oriented institutions.

The scale of battle re-enactments like the one at Waterloo in June 2015 proves the

approach’s popularity with the memory-consuming public. Particularly Civil War re-

enactments are hugely popular leisure time attractions in the United States. In 1961, the

First Battle of Manassas was re-enacted in its historically original location – an event

that drew 500,000 visitors to the battlefield park (Schwarz 2014: 122). Schwarz (ibid)

defines re-enactments as thoroughly performed replays of bygone events. They are con-

cerned with retrieving the “physical and psychological experience[s]” of the historical

36

participants that then offer “a framework within which large-scale [historical] processes

may be reduced to a comprehensible scale” (Agnew 2007: 301). In this way, knowledge

about the past is provided through an entertaining spectacle that appeals to the viewers’

senses. Advocates of re-enactments claim that such well-told narratives bring both the

re-enactors and the audiences closer to the remembered past (ibid: 329f.). The replay

visually relocates the historical event to the present environment, thus collapsing the

temporal barrier between then and now (McCalman 2007).

Instead of simply providing arenas for nostalgic escapism, skeptics of this kind of

memory mediation call for a more noticeable emphasis on the constructive, selective

and interpretive nature of re-enactments and their inherent narrative theatricality; a re-

enactment should explicitly be marked as “a performance in search of a storyline”

(Agnew 2007: 302). Reflexive re-enactments could still retrieve the past but a consistent

attention to their production aspect would, first, develop an understanding of fundamen-

tal differences between then and now and, secondly, it could uncover the factors influ-

encing the mediation of memory in society instead of negating them (Agnew 2004:

335). Such a revised approach would also allow for a more fruitful discussion of authen-

ticity. If it was continuously clarified that re-enactments were never exact reproductions

of the past, the combination of bodily and sensual experiences, material props and be-

haviorisms could produce valuable cultural knowledge through existential authenticity

(Agnew 2007: 306f.). Re-enactments would then allow for the “reinsertion” of body and

emotion into performed past, which reveals to re-enactors and spectators alike that cul-

tural memory is essentially a meaningful story – “a set of narratives performed (…) in

the present” (de Groot 2011: 594).

If the academia ignores the mediation of cultural memory through spectacles, it can

rightfully be considered “elitist” – not least so because of the approach’s prevailing

popularity and its educational influence (de Groot 2011: 588). Living-history has like-

wise become an enthusiastically employed feature in institutions concerned with

American cultural memory. It is even eponymous of the popular living-history muse-

ums, which form hybrids on an intermediate stage between pure academic education

and solely commercial entertainment. Their orientation is therefore closely connected to

DA’s official agenda and, as will be shown, their approaches once again render discus-

sions about authenticity unavoidable.

37

While originating in Scandinavia13, living-history has developed its current stan-

dard in the United States. Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia has even become the “most

influential living-history museum” worldwide (Leon & Piatt 1989: 66). Its “attempt to

simulate life in another time” (Anderson 1992: 456), supported by meticulously recre-

ated settings and costumed interpreters, caters to tourists’ affection with experience in

today’s ‘event society’ (Schindler 2003: 21). Living-history may be called an extended

form of re-enactment, as it is concerned with the repetitive everyday routines rather than

with the extraordinary, short-lived incidents. Most American living-history formats fo-

cus on the country’s simple, pre-twentieth-century agrarian past (Leon & Piatt 1989:

65). The visitors are invited to enter (and – at will – exit) a three-dimensional, carefully

themed setting and the imitations trigger an experience of “history come alive” (Ander-

son 1992: 358).

Even more so than re-enactments, narrative living-history spaces have been criti-

cized for providing only purified nostalgic escapes reminiscent of show-business pro-

ductions (Leon & Piatt 1989: 64). It is deemed especially dangerous when visitors simply

experience without additional contextual instructions. They then become victims of

their own harmony-driven expectations (Schindler 2003: 238) and may fill possible gaps

in the performance with established popular knowledge that could be closer to myth

than to academically supported research. Hence, existing collective memories and iden-

tities would be further confirmed without being challenged or revised (ibid: 238). Many

living-history facilities have based their evolved standards on sustained, extensive re-

search in order to provide scholarly verified representations of settings and perform-

ances. Despite the efforts made, institutions must continuously remind their visitors that

they are merely presenting their own, at times, speculative interpretations, models and

theatrical adaptations of the past. However, it still has to be acknowledged that accu-

rately designed sets and skilled interpreters, in which and through whom the consum-

able memory is being presented, aid in stirring the visitors’ interest in the historical con-

texts and allow for a visual imagination of a distant past. In this environment the indi-

vidual can be an active investigator, instead of merely being a passive witness (Ander-

son 1992: 462ff.). Once more it is not the display of the authentic original, but rather the

production of powerfully affective and effective authentic experiences that seems to be

the main result of living-history (Leon & Piatt 1989: 91).

13 The first open-air museum in the world was also the first one to employ living-history as a mediation strategy. It was opened in 1891 in Skansen, Sweden (Kagel 2008: 10).

38

Ultimately, re-enactments and living-history performances can both be defined as

tourist magnets with strong economic incentives that decisively influence the choice of

contents and modes of presentation (Leon & Piatt 1989: 75). Their primary aims remain

to captivate the visitors and to satisfy their expectations. The latter, in turn, have been

influenced considerably by theme parks in general and Disney’s way of presenting nar-

ratives in particular (Schindler 2003: 42). Colonial Williamsburg’s close connection to

theme parks like DA becomes apparent with regard to a quote by a museum’s spokes-

person from the year 1997: “(…) we strongly believe that you can educate people, and

still, they can have a good time” (in Schindler 2003: 108). As stated above, almost iden-

tical claims were made by Michael Eisner during the planning phase of Disney’s Vir-

ginia park. Disney’s defining position in theme park culture as a whole always needs to

be related to some basic implications about the leisure industry’s popular medium.

5.2 Insights into Theme Park Culture

In the field of themed entertainment, living-history museums and re-enactment specta-

cles frequently highlight their educational profile and academic profundity. In direct op-

position, amusement parks are entirely affiliated with the popular entertainment culture

(Schindler 2003: 42). They fulfill the typical tourists’ demands for experiential con-

sumption and these experiences can be accompanied by theatrically performed stories in

thematically matching imagined worlds (Steinecke 2000: 22).

Schirrmeister (2009: 229f.) defines amusement parks as large-scale, spatially de-

marcated and highly commercialized spaces whose main economic target audience usu-

ally consists of families. Theme parks form a subcategory, as they additionally fit their

overall content and design to one or several specific mottos (ibid). They provide a type

of entertainment that is entirely severed from the individuals’ daily living environments.

This means that the parks are external to the everyday (ibid: 227) and are referred to as

“enclavic,” “single-purpose spaces” (Edensor 2001: 63). This defining difference from

perceived ordinary reality is not necessarily intrinsic to the places themselves; it rather

develops through the patrons who attach the label of the external other – opposite their

internal normality – to the parks (Steinkrüger 2013: 55). In order for the themed envi-

ronment to establish a stable existence, the users of this ‘other’ need to embrace it as a

full-fledged parallel social and physical reality. In this way, the materialized fantasy of

the extra-everyday becomes an inhabitable, part-time reality (Schirrmeister 2009: 230f.).

However, in order to gain effective pleasure from the theme park experience, the visi-

tors are required to be in constant awareness of the illusion that they place themselves

39

in. The opposition between outside and inside generates the conflicting images of a fa-

tiguing ordinary self and an amusing extra-ordinary other (ibid: 234). The general fear

that visitors would confuse a park’s reduced representation with a detailed historical

display might appear as an affront to the audience’s intelligence (cf. e.g. Steinkrüger

2013: 78). DA’s foes, however, were very fearful that exactly this confusion would arise,

particularly with young guests. On the whole, a temporary identification with the mate-

rial and immaterial fantasy-reality of the park hinges on a strict separation of the outside

everyday and the inside park world, thus providing the conscious – but no less meaning-

ful – illusion of an adventure (Schirrmeister 2009: 234f.).

Upholding the separation is aided by a strict intolerance of breaking the park-

related rules of behavior and meaning production. For instance, leaving the predesigned

paths, trying to discover the ‘behind-the-scenes’ of the park or simply showing aggres-

sive behavior will be sanctioned either by employees, who are trained to softly correct

rule breaking, or even by fellow visitors whose own experiences rely on maintaining the

separation between outside and inside to generate their own theme park experience

(Schirrmeister 2009: 233). In this manner “ambivalence and ambiguity are banished” so

that “tourist epistemologies are [only] shaped by an orientation towards the kinds of ex-

periences that are available” (Edensor 2001: 71). In a perfectly managed theme park,

tourists consciously move through a “highly commodified and regulated space,” whose

relevance is limited to its boundaries (ibid: 77).

Pleasure is often regarded as a fundamental human need; a need that can be ful-

filled by entertainment, which becomes a temporary substitute for strenuous labor.

Through their joyful artificiality theme parks provide the perfect kind of environment to

exclude a chaotic or conflict-laden routine from the momentary experience (Kagelmann

1993). Like other institutions in the tourism industry, theme parks need to consider the

expectations of their audience in order to be economically viable, entertaining refuges.

With regard to form and content, they are likely to draw on clichés and prototypes that

visitors will probably recognize (Schirrmeister 2009: 233) and, hence, offer a perfectly

materialized and commonly held fantasy. Overall, “the definition of a themed place re-

quires that the theme presents itself as referring to an established unity [unit?] of mean-

ing or identity” (David Kolb in Steinkrüger 2013: 63). As has been stated, such units are

entirely culturally constructed and also reproduce themselves through repeated use. DA

would have belonged to the pool of institutions affirming the (pre-existing) American

autostereotypes of their visitors and historians judged this as an affront to their critical

40

historical assessments (Schindler 2003: 238). In accordance with Wang, the recurrence

of collective American knowledge does not contradict, but rather stimulates, a satisfy-

ingly authentic theme park experience (Kagelmann 1993).

Achieving the desired level of guest satisfaction results in increased overall con-

sumption, return visits and positive evaluations – all three factors help stabilize a park

economically and help increase the financial gains of the company maintaining the park.

In the field of themed entertainment, parks of the Walt Disney Company have set high,

even archetypal, standards that all other parks in the USA and around the world nowa-

days try to meet. Despite recurrent criticism, their enduring popularity validates this

status.

5.3 Disney’s Theme Parks as Archetype Entertainment

The summer of 2015 has provided the world with yet another anniversary. Disneyland’s

Diamond Celebration commemorated the opening of the first ever theme park 60 years

ago in Anaheim, California. With Disneyland, Disney reinvented the traditional

amusement park and introduced themed environments into this section of popular enter-

tainment (Kagelmann 1993). Today the company operates five theme parks and resorts

on three different continents and its sixth addition, the Shanghai Disney Resort, is

scheduled to open in 2016. With an average number of 45 million annual visitors Walt

Disney World near Orlando, Florida, has even evolved into the biggest tourist destina-

tion in the world (Steinkrüger 2013: 257f.) and the income generated by all of the com-

pany’s theme parks rose to $687 million in 2014 (Barnesnov 2014).

California’s Disneyland continues to portray the prototypical characteristics of a

Disney theme park. It is designed to be a safe, meticulously clean and inviting environ-

ment addressed mainly at an audience of white, mobile, middle-class families who are

invited to leave behind their repetitive reality outside the park’s rampart for a day and

enjoy their leisure time in a completely carefree and positive space. These characteris-

tics can be subsumed under Disney’s myth of purity (Steinkrüger 2013: 258ff.) that the

company has been perfecting until today and commonly speaks of as Disney Realism.

The term refers to a strategy that is applied to the narrative content, physical design and

functional operation of the theme parks – and most other products of the enterprise. As

a Disney imageneer explained, Disney Realism is “sort of utopian in nature” and works

by “carefully program[ming] out all the negative, unwanted elements and pro-

gram[ming] in all the positive elements” (quoted in Wallace 1996: 137).

41

Disney Realism is the overarching planning and business strategy for every Disney

park and it entails the following more specific characteristics and consequences. To start

with, a park is defined by the authenticity of its simulation. It forms a permanent, de-

tailed and coherent counter-world that is entirely – and literally – mapped and thus con-

fined to the represented area. Even though a park may be based on dream-world themes

and activities, it still is a sensually and mentally ‘experienceable’ 3D-space. According

to Disney’s promotional texts for Orlando’s Magic Kingdom, this combination creates

an atmosphere in which “fairytale dreams come true” (Disneyworld 2015).

Additionally, the myth of purity is reflected in the constant state of material and

narrative perfection – everything good and beautiful is exposed while dirt and impurity

are not only hidden but fully repressed. In this way, form and content create powerful

mental and visual images which are fully coherent within the park world (Legnaro 2009:

32ff.). The complete consistency of appearance and performance is a prerequisite for the

park’s effective operation as a landscape of commodification where originally banal

products are endowed with value. The park world becomes accessible via the commod-

ity so that the two are intrinsically linked and the act of purchasing becomes a natural

element of Disney’s park-experience (ibid: 38f.).

Furthermore, while a theme park suggests total freedom from everyday constraints,

Disney parks are in fact highly controlled entertainment spaces. Due to the tangible and

thematically coherent narrative environments, which anticipate and actively guide be-

havioral patterns, visitors are willing to immerse themselves in the calculated freedom.

They gladly embrace being deprived of all responsibilities in exchange for the promised

experience of total pleasure and entertainment (Legnaro 2009: 39f.).

Finally, Legnaro concludes that all of the just mentioned qualities lead to an ec-

static mental state of ‘as if’ (German: “Als-Ob”) (2009: 41). It enables the individuals to

consciously exchange their reality for an illusion-reality that is just as plausible. In this

manner, Disney parks constitute a temporary relief from the everyday that is amplified

by their nostalgic aura of a world apart yet fully present. Disney’s designed nostalgia for

the ‘lost’ American past has become a significant aspect of the theme park presentation

and has thus influenced visitors’ general expectations of the industry (ibid).

As can be deduced from these characteristics, Disney parks provide uncomplicated

worlds where difficulties and negativity are banned beyond the property boundaries.

Such a constructed ‘positivity’ has been subject to harsh criticism and has been aca-

demically attended to by the British sociologist Alan Bryman under the concept of dis-

42

neyfication.14 While initially criticizing the contents of Disney products such as books

or films, disneyfication now encompasses products of any given company. Disneyfied

products promote simplified and superficial narratives devoid of any contradictions and

are thus in line with the Disney Realism philosophy. They can be deemed unsuitable for

stimulating immediate critical thinking, especially so when they are directed at young

children. The intentionally judgmental cultural critique is easily transferable to Disney’s

theme parks: for theming to function properly, i.e. to give way to the perfect illusion, it

even necessarily needs to be disneyfied (Steinkrüger 2013: 46ff.).

As has been stated, Disney’s entertainment strategies have influenced tourists’ ex-

pectations of the heritage industry in general and of more ‘serious’ institutions like mu-

seums or historic sites in particular. With regard to the representation of the American

past in Disney’s theme parks, its “top-down version,” which presents the past as “pleas-

antly nostalgic memory” without alternatives, has been sharply criticized (Wallace

1996: 149). The American historian Mike Wallace even accuses Disney of practicing

“ostrichism” when the company justifies its representations by claiming that “this is

only an entertainment park” despite visible consequences outside of its boundaries

(ibid). What further distinguishes Disney’s American past from park-external represen-

tations is its constant commodification (ibid: 170). The handling of the nation’s past as a

source of profit exemplifies the corporation’s two images, which it usually tries to keep

neatly separated. Disney’s preferred, carefully guarded public reputation is that of an

innocent, civic company bringing pleasurable entertainment to its mass audience. How-

ever, this kind of pleasure is only accessible in exchange for money – a fact that exposes

the business as an enormous economic empire permanently focused on maximizing its

profit (Giroux 1994). Based on this double consciousness, the Walt Disney Company

has become an immensely wealthy “icon of U.S. culture” (ibid) and saying its name

“evoke[s] a wholly defined universe” to most people (Applebome 1998).

It was exactly this coupling of purity and consumerism that proved to be one of the

core problems in the DA debate. A Disney theme park, which is by definition fantastic,

detached from the surrounding world and a money-making device, claims to provide

nothing but entertainment. In 1994, the company was not trusted to abandon these traits

in order to provide an educational, even critical access to American cultural memory.

Several underlying causes fueled the rejection of collective memory’s conflation with

fantastic entertainment in a Disney-controlled theme park version of the USA’s past. 14 Disneyfication must not be confused with Bryman’s concept of disneyization, an economic strategy used by companies to adapt to the consumption habits of their clients (Steinkrüger 2013: 45).

43

6 American Cultural Memory as Memotainment

“At what point does the effort to make history accessible make it something other than

history?” the journalist David Stout asked at the peak of the DA conflict. He pointed to

the anxiety at the heart of the controversy by revealing the underlying differentiation be-

tween true and false types of cultural memory (1994). Nevertheless, this thought struc-

ture relates to a postmodern cultural understanding, which fundamentally doubts the ex-

istence of ‘the real’ and instead postulates an ever-mediated, thus contingent and fic-

tionalized composition of the past. This kind of understanding would negate the role of

the past as an indisputable source of social orientation (Rüsen 1999: 91ff.). However, as

has been shown, the identities of social groups are grounded in their progression from a

common past and depriving said past of any consequential authority would collapse the

entire system (Macdonald 2013: 119ff.). As a consequence, postmodern individuals re-

sort to “the illusionary distinction” between meaningful, natural and meaningless, con-

structed cultural memories but still allow for the dividing line to be flexible (Firat &

Ulusoy 2009: 777). Insecurely in search of security, they are inclined to engage with the

mediations of memory offered and are also “ready to experience the thematic without

reservations” (ibid).

The production of historical consciousness outside of “the academy,” in culture and

society, is referred to as a symptom of the broader historical turn by the Canadian his-

torian John Toews (Shapiro 1997: 1). The change is made visible by the proliferation of

heritage tourism projects whose providers are in constant competition for the visitors’

acceptance. Resultantly, the laws of the dense market have led to an assimilation of rep-

resentational modes, so that “many serious historic sites and museums have adopted

(…) forms of presentation involving (…) entertainment” and “more commercial heri-

tage ventures [have adopted] the techniques of, as well as the claims to authenticity, of

traditional historic sites” (Kelleher 2004: 7). As these processes condition each other, it

has become increasingly difficult for the consumer to distinguish between the commer-

cial and educational features of given presentations (ibid) and, as shall be shown hereaf-

ter, the primary functions of the heritage offers indeed become blurred. Consequentially,

it is highly complicated to determine the most adequate, i.e. truthful or meaningful,

manner of mediating memory.

Several mediation strategies have proved to attract the consumers’ interest and to

satisfy their demands on the heritage industry. The compound histotainment has been

coined to refer to media, e.g. computer games or television documentaries, that merge

44

historical information with entertainment elements in order to attract the audience’s at-

tention (Lüdeker 2012). In line with the argumentation of this paper, the term has been

adapted accordingly to memotainment. DA would have been a prototypical instance of

memotainment, an epitome of entertainingly mediated cultural memory. In the follow-

ing, it will be examined whether memotainment can be a form of edutainment – educa-

tion coupled with entertainment – or whether this term in fact refers to irreconcilably

contrasting functions. Within the heritage industry all of these terms denominate strate-

gies employed to render products economically viable. Generally it is thus feared that

the method or function (here: entertainment) is prone to control the content (memory)

(Nolte 2008: 131ff.).

So far, the influential factors in the DA controversy have provided a broad theoreti-

cal framework to this particular case of memory presentation. While Disney counted on

the park to be a useful addition to the existing offers of the heritage tourism, its oppo-

nents feared impingements on the surrounding historical sites and on the mediation

techniques of cultural memory in general. The project caused the stir it did because of

the inherent connection of cultural memory and collective identity. Disney was accused

of producing a fantasy-memory and, thus, of initiating entirely fictional, distorted col-

lective identities. However, any account of cultural memory is by definition not factual

information but an institutionalized, mediated and selective interpretation. ‘Consumers’

are always presented with the remembered past and claims to objective truthfulness

need to be entirely dismissed. Like this, the heritage industry can be thought of as a

compilation of different approaches to memory, mediated through a variety of institu-

tions with contrasting agendas and presentation strategies.

The memory boom of the past thirty years has led to an increased scholarly and

public engagement with national pasts and, resultantly, to a proliferation of protagonists

in heritage tourism. With particular consideration to the growing competition on the

American market, any narrative of cultural memory has to be evaluated in the light of

nation-specific influences. Likewise, the debate about authenticity – conventional and

existential – is paramount in society’s ongoing search for meaningful sites of identity

and it was particularly central when the patron of the theme park industry, the Walt Dis-

ney Company, planned on entering the market with its concept of memotainment.

Along with Disney’s proposal surfaced the different standards by which the providers

and their respective mediations were and are judged from inside and outside of the aca-

demia, as well as the overall heterogeneity of the heritage industry.

45

The following sections will conduct in-depth analyses of the factors behind the

resolute rejection of Disney’s attempted merging of popular entertainment with cultural

memory. The research revolves around the facets which incited or intensified the oppo-

nents’ deep anxieties about memotainment. Chapter 6.1 introduces this paper’s compre-

hensive explanatory approach to all judgments made: to put it rather bluntly, cultural

memory must never perform a primarily entertaining function. The DA project thus star-

tled a section of the industry that was scared of losing even more control over its media-

tion strategies and its treasured educational reputation than it already had been forced to

give up. While these heritage providers were keen to create the illusion of being entirely

unrelated to commercial approaches, it appears that historical sites (e.g. battlefields) and

history theme parks are in fact fraternal twins in competition for their breadwinners’ at-

tention and judgments. In order to deduce why specifically the Walt Disney Company

was categorically denied the authority to mediate America’s past, it will be imperative

to further consider Disney’s iconic status in American culture and economy. The firm’s

innate image-consciousness has resulted in the public’s rigid mental images of the com-

pany, which it constantly strives to confirm. In the DA controversy, the name of the in-

stitution responsible for the mediation amplified the rejection of the entire product in-

stead of providing welcome promotion. Concerning Disney, there is a large number of

significant dichotomies which help classify a company that is loved and feared at the

same time. On the whole, the enterprise’s reputation appears as a complicated puzzle

whose many pieces sometimes create a distorted final image.

In order to depict the proclaimed differences to an educational historical institution

of the heritage industry, several of DA’s features will be compared to the Manassas bat-

tlefield, its immediate neighbor. This procedure allows for the possibility to show why

memotainment penned by Disney unleashed deeply rooted fears among other players of

the industry and among American scholars. Even though the project has remained dor-

mant until this day, the deep anxieties over it still reverberate in today‘s media, subject-

related literature and with the parties involved in the conflict.

Despite DA’s functionally different approach to the topic of cultural memory, this

analysis treats it as a valid mediator of the American past and as one institution among

many, none of which should be systematically declared true or false, good or bad pro-

ducers of memory (also cf. Nolte 2008: 140ff.). Like this, the history theme park marks

one instance in the range of private historical consciousness (i.e. cultural memory) pro-

ducers. Due to Disney’s pioneering and prototypical position in the leisure industry, the

46

findings deduced from the DA case become relevant with similar debates about more

recent memotainment projects in today’s heritage tourism.

6.1 How much Fun Does Cultural Memory Permit?

When it was said above that DA and its attempt to portray the American past would

have involved what was fun to some people but an offense, even a sacrilege to others,

the words were not merely directed at the contents selected for presentation but towards

the entire presentation as such. It once again highlights that subjective points of view

played a tricky and decisive role in this conflict. Disney planned on entering a market

that had, and still has, trouble defining itself due to its diversity, heterogeneity, and be-

cause it was and is composed of protagonists who are so confident in their approaches

to the topic of historical mediation that criticizing new competitors almost becomes a

defining feature of affiliation. Institutions like historic sites, historical museums, living-

history museums and history theme parks are, however, interrelated via the “cultural

trend” that has been labeled “the heritage phenomenon” (Kammen 1997: 214f.). The

term denotes Americans’ “interest in the country’s past” as it is attended to by all of the

attractions just mentioned (ibid: xii).

The flourishing of the heritage industry from the mid-1950s onwards may not only

be seen as a consequence but, in a circular fashion, also as a starting point of said devel-

opment (ibid: 214). As a result and a prerequisite of the diversified offers, cultural

memory comes to “operat[e] (…) as a resource and a product” and is never fixed but

flexible and adaptable (Crane 1997: 49). Heritage tourists expect to be enlightened about

their collective past and the information they take away becomes an element of their

cultural identity and consequentially a part of their pre-existing knowledge for future

visits. The visitors trust the chosen institutions “to get the past ‘right’” for them but it

seems that ‘right’ is almost as difficult to pinpoint as ‘fun’ (ibid: 51). Nevertheless, it is

specifically this vague quality which allows for the manifold possibilities within the in-

dustry and it seems likely that ‘right’ cultural memory stands for ‘plausible’ cultural

memory. Plausibility enables memory’s identity function and approaches perceived as

mere fiction would lose their justification as cultural memory (Rüsen 1999: 98). Yet

again, these observations also mean that social groups “continue to harbor and develop

their own collective memories which justifiably resist historical re-interpretation and

which form an active component of public life” and, whether or not professional histo-

rians approve of this fact, these memories become a strong component of heritage tour-

ism (Crane 1997: 49).

47

It is thus shown why the heritage industry includes conflicting, parallel offers to

communally remember America’s past and out of this fact unsurprisingly arises the

need for internal gradations. Mediated memory is transformed through its medium (A.

Assmann 2013: 206) and, therefore, the choice of the mediation strategy becomes a cru-

cial feature in the reciprocal evaluation of the abundant memory offers. The DA conflict

was a case in point for historical scholars’ almost innate skepticism of popularized me-

diation strategies and for, what seemed like, a somewhat arrogantly defended preroga-

tive to the ‘correct’ presentations of the past (Nolte 2008: 136). In 1994, the discussion

ultimately revolved around three central issues:

(a) Which medium or tool was chosen for the mediation? (b) Who were the producers and what were their professional credentials? (c) What kind of memory was thus produced?

In general, the crucial point in the heritage industry is not ‘what had actually hap-

pened’ but rather ‘how it was remembered’ (Nolte 2008: 142) and it becomes apparent

that the medium of mediation is largely responsible for the primary function of the of-

fer. As diverse as the heritage industry and its modes of representation are, in the end,

the majority of participants advertise a commitment to primarily historical and cultural

education. Even hybrids, like Colonial Williamsburg, constantly highlight their educa-

tional agenda, which may be defined as specifically recreational education, but never-

theless education. Needless to say, fellow institutions in the industry do not have to ac-

knowledge the promotional agendas by which each provider of cultural memory oper-

ates. What is important to remember, though, is that a self-image is always deliberately

cultivated. The ‘fun’ that John Kanelis (1994: 33) saw provided by the Manassas battle-

field hence referred to an educational type of fun in stark contrast to Disney’s fun.

With the Disney Company and its medium of the theme park this silently agreed

upon foundation of the industry was thus broken. First and foremost, Disney always

provided entertainment and it did not pretend to serve a different primary function. The

company wanted DA to be educational recreation, i.e. memotainment with a clear em-

phasis on the second part of the compound. Its plans seemed to hit a raw nerve with

well-established institutions and exposed one of the industry’s greatest anxieties,

namely that cultural memory would be heavily commercialized for the financial benefit

of a private corporation (Nolte 2008: 144). The controversy revealed what the British

sociologist and cultural anthropologist Sharon MacDonald later referred to as cultural

memory’s “paradoxical promise on the one hand of a world that can transcend econom-

ics, and, on the other hand, a hopefully golden economic opportunity” (2013: 136). With

48

the DA endeavor, Disney was trying to erase the paradox from the promise by including

both features in its mediation approach. However, by deliberately reversing the tradi-

tional order of the industry’s primary and possible secondary functions, education and

recreation, it disqualified itself from the well-established institutional network.

Before continuing, it is necessary to provide a definition for what is here called pri-

mary function. This thesis understands it as the pronounced purpose the producers of

cultural memory assign to their product(ion). In heritage tourism basically the only ac-

cepted primary function is the historical and cultural education of the visitors. It is fur-

ther entangled with the expectations the tourists bring to the respective sites. They are

supposed to use heritage tourism as a means to locate, reassure and extend their individ-

ual and cultural identities – the activity itself may be relaxing and recreational but find-

ing entertainment and pleasure must not be the main incentive for their visit.

During the preparation phase in 1994, Disney officials repeatedly referred to the is-

sue of merging cultural memory and entertainment. Michael Eisner assigned Disney the

role of an ‘assistant teacher’ who used new methods to ignite the ‘children’s’ interest in

the familiar subject. Similar to established projects, DA’s agenda was to “help educate

through entertainment” (Eisner 1994a). The promotional material emphasized the park’s

complementarity to the surrounding offers of cultural memory and stressed its function

as a continuation of Walt Disney’s original “desire not only to entertain and inspire, but

to educate” (fig. 5). Following this spirit, the company wanted to endow the park with

creative and progressive approaches to a traditional and long-cherished topic and, thus,

wanted to show that it should not be perceived as an inexperienced newcomer to the

field.

While company officials constantly repeated that the park would be educational

and still entertaining, none of their statements created the illusion that they were pro-

moting a PRIMARILY educational institution. Disney seemed proud to provide memo-

tainment of the highest quality and Robert Weis, DA’s chief designer, was quoted as

saying: “We're going to try to get a stamp of approval from the historical groups, but at

the same time, we do have to make it fun, so there's a balance” (Boyd 1993). Approval

from historical groups would have provided Disney with credible credentials for a plau-

sible memory presentation and production and would have refuted any claims to mere

fictionality. Yet, Weis clearly stressed that the share of fun marked the point when the

product was ready to be consumed. Mark Pacala, DA’s project manager, was the one to

define what has merely been called Disney’s fun up to now: “We don't want people to

49

come out with a dour face. (…) It is going to be fun with a capital F” (Moe & Wilkie

1997). It is exactly this Fun that separated Disney’s approach to cultural memory from

the approaches of the surrounding sites which also used recreational strategies to ensure

pleasant stays for their visitors. Disney assigned Fun to be the primary function of DA’s

concept. It employed cultural memory as a device to achieve (financial) success and

would have provided the visiting public first and foremost with “a chance to play in the

past” (Barthel 1996: 335). The outraged reactions of DA’s opponents, who defended

their territory against an uninvited intruder, show that Disney stayed true to its trade-

mark – “pleasure” was the “defining principle of what Disney produce[d]” (Giroux

1994). Precisely because the company did not divert from its well-known strategies, DA

was deprived of the ability to conflate cultural memory and entertainment.

In this manner, the opposition concluded that no approach to cultural memory that

had entertainment at its inner core could do justice to critical education. After all, as one

article resolutely stated, “history is largely composed of decidedly non-fun activities

such as war, death, famine [or] persecution” (Gabriele 1993). The topic of the American

Civil War especially was regarded as quite the opposite of Disney’s usual family-

friendly entertainment and it was repeatedly questioned how the “Disney folks [would]

extract fun from (…) the Civil War, that jolly extravaganza in which 600,000 people

died” (ibid). By contrast, a historic site like the Manassas battlefield was, and still is,

driven by a primarily cognitive experience. Its primary functions are the provision of

knowledge about the historical event and its repercussions in the present (Steinkrüger

2013: 147) and the “anchor[ing of] collective memory by providing tangible evidence of

the past” (Barthel 1996: 345). In an almost mantra-like fashion, the battlefield’s authori-

ties and several historians emphasized the site’s outstanding “importance to the nation”

in order to justify its rightful status (ibid: 347). In the end, any battleground’s accredita-

tion to provide cultural memory does not mainly depend on the mediation strategies that

are employed – because they can and must be contested. Rather, they gain basic accep-

tance through promoting the educational processes of “meditation and reflection” as its

primary purposes (ibid: 355 & 360).

Before attending to Disney’s remarkable reputation in the American cultural per-

ception, the issue of the medium carrying the cultural memory will be examined more

thoroughly. With DA, cultural memory and entertainment could not be conflated be-

cause they were controlled by a reversed hierarchy in which entertainment overshad-

owed education. The hierarchy, on the other hand, was dictated by the medium used.

50

The theme park is an attraction of the leisure industry that is designed to ignite joyful

time-outs from reality. Consequently, there are limits to the tool of the theme park and

not every theme lends itself to a presentational form severed from the world around the

enclosed space (Wallace 1996: 170). In the case of DA, the medium of the park ren-

dered the topic of American cultural memory highly problematic for three major rea-

sons.

First, after they had entered the park, Walt Disney aspired to make his visitors “fell

[sic] they [were] in another world” and to make them feel like they had cut all ties with

their everyday reality (Schirrmeister 2009: 229). For the purpose of generating these

feelings, the topics of the display should differ significantly from the world outside its

borders (Steinkrüger 2013: 58). Herein lies one of the issues with DA: while the medium

of the theme park normally avoids any direct connections to the world around, the topic

of cultural memory constantly breaks the enclavic nature of the park by deliberately re-

establishing those links.

Secondly, theme parks are focused on creating positive physical and sensual ex-

periences – in contrast to a battlefield’s contemplative cognitive orientation (Steinkrüger

2013: 30f.). A park’s strategy relies on the construction of a fantastic, artificial counter-

world, from which harrowing experiences of the perceived reality or of that reality’s

past are entirely removed. Therefore, many topics appear unsuitable for a theme park

display because the medium’s entirely positive escapism must not incorporate real,

negative menaces. Naturally, any war action or the memory thereof would thus have to

be recounted in an incomplete fashion. Many critics concluded that Disney’s particular

‘theme park past’ would not have been suitable to be remembered educationally, but it

would rather have been a fictional past, designed for mere recreational purposes. Like

this, it may have fulfilled tourists’ escapist desires but would have had no value in de-

veloping a critical historical consciousness (Wallace 1996: 149ff.). One thing that

should not be forgotten, however, is the fact that the Walt Disney Company invented

the basic concept of the theme park and continuously improved its mediation strategies

and modes of display. If there was one enterprise that had the skills and the possibilities

to yet again change theme parks’ main agenda, Disney would be that company. In this

respect, there is room for the speculation that DA, as a new branch of theme parks,

could have advanced the market for experiences of existential authenticity. The park

would have catered to the tourists’ need for finding a believable access to their cultural

51

memory and identity – recreated and fantastical maybe, but of mesmerizing quality nev-

ertheless.

Lastly, a theme park is entirely guided by the method of commodification. It satis-

fies guests by providing purchasable, escapist fun and visitor contentment results in pro-

longed stays and people’s inclination to consume even more (Steinkrüger 2013: 67).

With DA, this innate feature of the theme park turned out to be highly problematic be-

cause the commodification of historical information was the worst nightmare of histori-

ans and potential competitors. The opponents strongly disapproved of the public, na-

tional past’s conversion into the private profit of a multimillion dollar corporation. The

past was categorically excluded from merchandising activities (Wallace 1996: 170f.).

The combination of all three reasons deprived the medium of the theme park of the

capability to mediate cultural memory because it dictated a reversal of the traditional

order of functions in the heritage industry. Additionally, the Disney Company was en-

tirely deprived of any legitimate professional credentials that could have entitled it to

represent American cultural memory in an educational way. As indicated above, Disney

had already had a history of portraying the country’s past, which, however, was fatally

judged to arise out of the company’s “imaginary discourse of innocence, civic pride and

entertainment” (Giroux 1994). Much of the discredit of DA was in fact rooted in the ex-

isting conflicting images of Disney.

In order to understand why the DA debate did not halt at the function or method of

the interpretation of cultural memory but was directed against the specific company

planning the attraction, it is inevitable to address how Disney is perceived in the Ameri-

can society. The upcoming comparisons to DA’s direct opponent at Manassas will dem-

onstrate that it is practical to partially define Disney’s identity on the basis of Disney’s

alterity. The divided core of the corporation played a vital role in the failure of the his-

tory theme park.

Michael Eisner and his team did not expect to be confronted with such criticism

and hostility when they started to develop the concept of DA. They may have foreseen

the ‘usual’ antagonism of preservationist but were “stunned” when the controversy de-

veloped into a nationwide “referendum on Disney” as a company (Eisner in Fiore

1994). The struggle openly exemplified the importance and influence of such a large

corporation’s image, as well as the values and expected behaviorisms attached to it. As

a reminder, Applebome remarked about the Walt Disney Company that “to say the

word is to evoke a wholly defined universe” (1998). He was certainly right in the as-

52

sumption that most people who hear the word ‘Disney’ will immediately conjure up an

image of and a personal attachment to the company. Nonetheless, there is a good chance

that these images will not be identical and could even deal with completely opposite

traits of Disney. This circumstance explains why the passionately conducted public de-

bate about DA in the end “left the country confused and divided over Disney” (Fiore

1994).

Controversies surrounding Disney tend to attract much public and media attention

and they seem to be of concern to many Americans. This is quite simply the case be-

cause Disney stands for America. To be even more concrete, it has been claimed that

Disney IS America, which means that Disney IS the American self or as Karal Ann Mar-

ling, American professor of art history, phrased it: Disney “is part of the fiber of who

(…) [Americans] are” (Fiore 1994). The company’s enormous popularity and presence

means that it is difficult to grow up in the American culture without being exposed to

Disney products in one way or another. The resulting influence suggests that Disney is

“the primary cultural ‘imprinter’ of what it means for children to be American” (Jamie

O’Boyle in Fiore 1994). As these children become American adolescents, then adults,

they are still accompanied by Disney productions from music over movies to sports

broadcasts15. Eventually, to separate American popular cultural life from the corporation

can become a strenuous endeavor. Validated by these claims, a visit to a Disney theme

park can become a “quintessential American experience” (Yoshino & McKibben 2015).

In this manner, Disney has carefully cultivated its self-proclaimed reputation as the

go-to address for unrestricted entertainment. Disney simply IS prototype entertainment;

the name being interwoven with the essence of its products. The description of the char-

acteristics of Disney’s entertainment, i.e. of the company itself, will repeatedly draw on

a number of central keywords. Disney stands for innocence, homogeneity in narration

and content, clean and secure plots and environments, and desirable and upright morals

(Giroux 1994). It has achieved an iconic and almost “mythological status” with its con-

sumers (ibid), which Disney makes sure to reinforce and constantly renew via its prod-

uct range. The sudden retreat from the history theme park project was attributed to the

fact that the company had “to protect symbolic capital from contamination by contro-

versy” (Wallace 1996: 171). Disney always wants its entertainment to be a performance

without a backstage area. The center-stage is composed of a well-working compilation

of fictional, fantastic, illusionary, even escapist elements; it is the virtual opposite of re- 15 In 1995 Disney acquired the broadcasting television network Capital Cities / ABC Inc. and with it the sports network ESPN for $19 billion (Fabrikant 1995).

53

ality, which has quite accurately been referred to as “virtual unreality” (Frank

Mankiewicz in Wines 1994). The constant celebratory performance, which welcomes

Americans home, constitutes part of the nation’s psyche and its solid DNA. Disney’s

identity as the national entertainer sufficed to deprive Disney of the ability to portray the

country’s past educationally and it reinforced the rejection already caused by the chosen

medium of the theme park and its inherent primary function. The company’s second

face further fortified this opinion of the park’s opponents.

Many Americans were and still are advocates of Disney’s clean entertainment im-

age and the company’s products remain a constant source of pleasure in their chaotic or

even bleak everyday worlds. Disney obviously satisfies a need the public has and it did

and does not desire to be confronted with a re(de)fined version of its iconic status

(whether Disney creates this need in the first place will not be discussed here). This

standpoint can be further assessed if one considers the notion of the American self. The

qualities assembled to belong to the self are usually the positive and desirable ones that

the respective society is proud of and likes to display repeatedly. Negative aspects are

usually projected away from the self and should not be “mirror[ed] back” (Charles Tay-

lor in Kaplan 2007: 124). At this point in the DA conflict arose a “public credibility

gap” (Fiore & Harris 1994) that has been neatly summarized by Richard Foglesong, an

American expert on the history of the Walt Disney Company, in the following words:

“[The Disney mystique] is also their Achilles’ heel. They live and die by that pub-lic image. If that favorable image is called into question – if they are shown to be a greedy corporate monster – then the opponent has a wedge” (Baer 1994).

Conjuring up a stark contrast to the purportedly altruistic historic site of the battlefield,

opponents of DA deliberately stressed Disney’s corporate, money-making intentions in

order to make the public and the media veto the project.

Besides being the mellow ruler of the Magic Kingdom with a policy of fantastic

entertainment, the Walt Disney Company is a vast economic empire and a profit-

oriented corporate giant. Whatever projects it tackles, Disney attends to them carefully

and seriously and, hence, has a reputation with launching successful products (Moe &

Wilkie 1997). In this view, ‘successful’ can be equated with generating income and

multiplying the corporation’s wealth. In 1994, the strategies employed to achieve these

aims caused a stir among the public appalled by the Virginia project. In the beginning,

Disney tried to keep the price of the DA property low, threatened to leave the county if

government grants were not approved and, of course, planned to sell cultural memory

merchandising within the park. Disney’s greedy self lay exposed and the company was

54

even denounced as an aggressive corporate “colonizer” (Peirce 1994) that exploited its

small commercial colonies and then transferred all profits back to its mother country,

i.e. the corporation’s California headquarters.

The inherent commercial characteristic of the theme park came under even stronger

attack because it was to be created by the Walt Disney Company. Due to its constantly

promoted entertainment image, Disney and all of its projects were “held by the public to

a different standard” (Fiore 1994). Disney’s ‘dark’ side collided with the positive image

of the American self, which was only reflected by the corporation’s entertainment face,

and the public seemed reluctant to admit that there was a vast, dimly lid backstage area

to Disney’s productions. It simply didn’t “like the idea that there [was] a corporation

behind” all of them (Jamie O’Boyle in Fiore 1994). On a side note, it is worth mention-

ing that Disney’s split character reflects the inherent dual experience of nostalgia and

progress in American cultural memory and identity. Entertainment repeats the nostalgic

American longing of being anchored in a safe past, while the company’s economic side

is a reminder of the constant drive for progressive actions in the present.

In sum, due to its entertaining AND commercial orientation, the company was pub-

lically deprived of the ability to mediate cultural memory with an educational agenda.

Disney had no scholarly credentials worth mentioning and communicated no desire to

abandon its primarily entertaining agenda. The opposition unanimously supported the

claim that the Walt Disney Company, focused on entertainment and commercialization

alike, should not be allowed to portray American cultural memory in the inappropriate

medium of the theme park. In addition to the kind of fun to come out of cultural mem-

ory, one could also pose the question of how much financial profit cultural memory tol-

erates.

After having deduced the reasons for Disney’s declared inability to mediate cul-

tural memory, the anxieties of the opposition about possible consequences of an up-and-

running DA park need to be addressed. In the realm of the fantastic and even in the

realm of nostalgically driven narratives of America’s past, Disney has been shown to

provide perfect and meticulously detailed illusions. In the case of DA it appears to have

been the deep-seated fear that, using all their creative and financial resources, Disney

would have been able to create “the illusion of educational entertainment” (Judith Ad-

ams in Kelleher 2004: 8). Despite having had openly deprived Disney of any scholarly

credentials, academic experts and other opponents still feared that the entertainment gi-

ant’s mediation techniques could have resulted in a flawlessly believable presentation.

55

Any attraction in the tourism industry competes for the attention of its potential visitors

and successful strategies will naturally be copied or adapted by other competitors.

Hence, trends and altered tourist expectations exert a remarkable influence on all play-

ers in the field. These influences do not only take one-way streets from entertainment to

education. Instead, traditional historic sites also have effects on the presentation modes

of more commercially oriented offers (Kelleher 2004: 7). Adopting well-known media-

tion strategies of educational institutions could have adorned DA with “an air of histori-

cal legitimacy” (ibid: 9).

The heritage industry conveys the overall impression that, while trying to stay

separate regarding the needs it caters to, its institutions’ mediation strategies have more

and more converged over the years (Kelleher 2004: 6f.). Here, it is convenient to return

to the claim that the industry is catering to the tourists’ quest for existentially authentic

experiences. In an industry where the boundaries between commercial and traditional

heritage offers have already started to blur, a thoroughly provided illusion of authentic-

ity can have the same effect and affect as the historically authentic offer (Kagelmann

1993: 413). For obvious reasons, the operators of traditional sites were terrified of such

an indistinguishable cultural memory landscape.

It can thus be claimed that the anxiety of the opponents lay at an even deeper level

than the antagonism against the Walt Disney Company and it was connected to the

question “[a]t what point (…) these simulations of experience ceas[ed] being mere es-

capist fun (…) and replac[ed] authentic experience [sic] of our own environment and

heritage” (Rich 1994). The opposition feared for a changed standard in the industry; for

it to become an illusion of conventional historical authenticity, knowingly ‘un-

authentic’ yet having the same, or even a more immediate, desired effect. They feared

for a new ‘real’ that would have deprived the well-established heritage sites of their

most valuable possessions, e.g. the importance of the ground and the objects, so that

treasured internal gradations of the industry would become indiscernible.

Finally, DA antagonists can also be imagined to have feared that the flawless illu-

sion of cultural memory would have created an equally perfected illusion of cultural

identity – the American self as clean and secure as Disney Realism. This vision collides

with the system’s balance, provided by more critical assessments of American cultural

memory. After all, “[i]f historical presentations had to be neatly packaged, with closed

narratives and happy endings, it would conflict with the open-ended, question-raising

nature of historical enterprise” in general (Wallace 1996: 170). Thereby, the function of

56

historical scholarship and of projects committed to accepted educational standards that

put content into perspective would ultimately have been degraded (also cf. Kelleher

2004: 16). The opposition’s ‘horror-scenario’ pictured DA’s memotainment as the new

norm of the heritage industry, in the same way as the enterprise had once established the

new norm of the entire theme park industry, even the whole entertainment industry.

Disney took offense at the accusations brought forward by the opposition. It kept

addressing the criticism against the content and design of the park and tried to appease

the conflict by assuring to keep the planning process flexible. And even though Disney

officials asserted that the company was “much richer and more contextual (…) than

[Mickey Mouse animators]” (Mark Pacala in Fiore 1994), it was not trusted to embrace

a serious, educational agenda after having worked so hard to be (un)believably fantastic.

The following detailed analyses exemplify how DA’s primary function of enter-

tainment would have overshadowed any other possible mediation strategies. Disney’s

ability to bring copies of the displays at historical sites to perfection, as well as emerg-

ing differences between the existential authenticity experienced in DA and the conven-

tional authenticity held high at the historic site of the Manassas battlefield will also be

examined. To begin with, the third central aspect of the controversy as listed above –

the type of memory that would have been produced in DA – will be scrutinized.

6.2 The Plot Behind the Kaleidoscopic Past

As has been established, Disney has become America’s national storyteller (Fiore 1994)

and provides what could be called indigenous American tales.16 Associating Disney

with this role opens up the possibility of transferring a thought that was originally di-

rected at Washington D.C.’s memorials and museums to Disney’s productions: “[I]ts

myths were spun to fill a yawning hole in the psyche of a nation that had no indigenous

culture to draw on at its birth” (Wines 1994). Ever since its foundation, Disney has

‘storified’ these national American myths into fiction and fantasy, all the while con-

sciously refraining from any claims to conventional authenticity (Wallace 1996: 137).

This reliance on the power of the script was also visible with the DA project, as the final

outcome of the park was to depend on “the way [the company would] tell the story”

(Robert Shinn in Boyd 1994). Such statements evoke the notion of Disney Realism, the

strategy that is at the basis of all perfectly plausible, coherent plots which treat romanti-

cized, simplified, celebratory and innocent versions of myths.

16 To apply such a terminology immediately suggests follow-up projects, for instance a comparison of Disney to the role of the Brothers Grimm in German foundational mythology.

57

Despite these observations, it can be deduced that DA’s ‘plotted’ past would have

satisfied a central need in the maintenance of a society. Cultural memory is the lifeline

of a society because it is “the central (…) medium through which identities are consti-

tuted” (Olick & Robbins 1998: 133). The collectively remembered past reassures the na-

tion of its self, in fact, the society only becomes aware of its self because it has (con-

structed) a past (A. Assmann 2013: 20ff.). The validation of values, ideals and quintes-

sential collective character traits is enabled through the main stabilizer of memory,

through language (ibid: 15). By extension the same applies to stories: cultural memory

needs to be narrated in order to reproduce “the cultural capital of a society,” which “is

built on a small number of normative and formative texts, places, persons, artifacts, and

myths” (A. Assmann 2008: 100). In the United States the resultant cultural identity in-

cludes the following curious feature. The American self is driven by a constant “sense

of external threat,” which urges the national community to repeatedly reaffirm its core

identity in order to be able to potentially defend it against an unknown other (Sturken

2007: 38).

In DA, the mentioned texts, places, persons, artifacts and myths were translated into

nine themed territories. Certainly, the plans for the park cannot be examined in the same

way as a completed and operating exhibit, however, based on the promotional material

and the statements of Disney officials, the general choice of topics and the proposed

mediation strategies can be assessed as purposeful and deliberate. The compilation of

the chosen sites of memory was to form, in Nora’s words, “a symbolic heritage” (1997:

2). This kind of American heritage would have been transported by the medium of the

theme park instead of being transferred via social interactions (Nora 2005: 574). In this

manner, the sites of memory selected for DA would not only have represented the cul-

tural memory of the historical events, but, moreover, would have been significant for

the society’s identity in the present. Generally, access to a society’s past and the possi-

bility to constitute the national self are provided by memory signs and DA even planned

to compile several of the “self-referential signs” (Nora 1989: 23) in just one location.

Thus, the whole park facility would have become a site of memory of its own.

Whenever an institution or company plans on portraying the general national past

and not just a specific aspect, it must necessarily be highly selective with regards to

content and the difficulties to present a cohesive, plausible narrative increase with the

time spans covered (Barthel 1996: 361). In this respect, Disney’s suggestion for a neatly

condensed version of America’s cultural memory retrospectively deserves some admira-

58

tion. DA’s primary aim remained the production of pleasure and entertainment within

the closed off park world. Additionally, the consistent affirmation and validation of

American cultural memory and identity and the anchoring of the self in preselected sites

of memory would have had an effect on the everyday world. Many visitors would have

left the park reassured of their cultural identity as citizens of the United States and with

a cohesive image of the ‘I’ in their minds. With regard to the content, DA was not going

to be based on a factually or temporally coherent timeline of historical events. Rather,

the park would have assembled dominant cultural symbolisms (Giroux 1994). In the

tradition of Disney’s general theme park philosophy, the park would have been “a

magic mirror” that would have powerfully “objectif[ied] the states of mind so that they

[would have become] visible in time and space as shared perceptions” (King 2002: 13).

The symbolic elements of DA would have represented core features of the national

self and would have been part of a kaleidoscopic vision of the past. The metaphor of the

kaleidoscope allows for a better understanding of the plot behind the park’s representa-

tion of the cultural memory. The individual territories were to offer narratives from the

American past that each reaffirmed prominent features of American cultural memory

and identity. If we consider those separate elements to be arranged like the pieces of a

kaleidoscope, their harmonic configuration creates an ever-aesthetic image. Numerous

re-configurations may give prominence to different facets of the pieces, but the compo-

sition always remains equally pleasing. Moreover, every element of the kaleidoscopic

image has defined delimitations and marked edges and in combination they form a lar-

ger, well-structured picture. This image, that is never repulsive, was to be the overall

plot behind DA: a celebration of the American cultural identity that would have radiated

with patriotic feelings like pride, satisfaction, confidence, gratitude or security. Such an

affirmative composition would also have acted as a cultural defense mechanism to con-

front any of the feared external threats to the American self.

The plot behind this kaleidoscopic past of DA would have been a framework for the

construction and validation of American cultural memory and identity. When applying

the metaphor of the kaleidoscopic composition to the entire heritage industry, Virginia’s

surrounding historic sites could be seen as enlarged individual elements of the overall

picture and could thus have added details, but also sharp edges to the plot. Such an allo-

cation of purposes refocuses our attention to the close connections between the myriad

offers of the heritage industry. They may assign themselves diverging primary functions

but their mediations of cultural memory could actually be directed towards the same

59

underlying structure. Based on this thought, it is tempting to propose the possibility for

more fruitful collaborations than were considered possible by most opponents in the DA

controversy, who even raised severe doubts that the park could have any advantages at

all. The following analyses of selected territories will highlight the motives behind

choosing these particular elements for the kaleidoscopic national past and will deduce

their contributions to DA’s overall plot. All the while, the primarily entertaining func-

tion of Disney’s theme park world and the way it influences the presentational modes of

the selected sites of memory need to be kept in mind for it remains of interest why the

portrayal of the PAST behind the PLOT was so firmly rejected.

Crossroads USA, the mid 19th century commerce town, was to become the entrance

area of DA. It would have assumed Main Street USA’s role in Disney’s other parks, with

the design adjusted to adapt it to the memory theme. The territory was to be the first and

the last environment the guests passed through on their way into and out of the park.

Therefore, it was to play a key role in creating the atmosphere for the adventurous ex-

perience ahead, as well as the longing for speedy return visits. Crossroads was the tran-

sition area that did not refer to a specific historic event, conflict or development; it

‘simply’ transported the guests back in time into a typical setting of the past. As will be

clarified below, this general task did not exclude the territory from being a specific plot

element in the affirmation of American cultural identity.

Crossroads would have been designed as a prototype look-alike of a 19th century

American town with neat streets, wooden houses, accurately dressed inhabitants, count-

less busy shops and restaurants, and even hotel accommodations. This was the place,

where DA’s authentic reconstructions, which initiated the commitment to the plausible

illusion of the theme park world, would have been displayed for the first time. The

combinatory effect of perfected settings and additional on-set performances would have

set the stage for the sought-after experiential authenticity. In line with Disney’s narra-

tive philosophy, aspects like dirt, poverty, stench, crime, or prostitution would almost

certainly have been omitted from the production. This kind of selective amnesia would

have been steered by the entertaining function of the Disney theme park. It was known

to and expected by the visitors that they would enter a play-area and Crossroads’ music,

bright colors, floral arrangements and fully-stored shop windows would have been

something like a welcome committee, engaging the visitor’s body and mind through an

abundance of impressions. Generally, the territory was arranged to consign all worries

to oblivion. Immediately upon entering the park, the nostalgia for a lost – yet never ex-

60

istent – urban past would have set in and, borne by these positive associations, the

guests’ inclination to consume commercial products as reminders of ‘their’ past would

have increased.

The typical theme park experience includes the act of purchasing products that are

endowed with meaning from within the park world. During the preparation phase of

DA, it was publically notified that Disney planned on lengthening “the time (…) [the

visitors] will stay in the marketplace" (Robert Shinn in Boyd 1994). The above-

mentioned features of Crossroads USA would have been deliberately employed to pro-

duce that specific commercialization of American cultural memory. So, while the mer-

chandise sold in the territory would most probably have been based on the other ele-

ments of the park, the act of consumption itself would have been connected to DA’s un-

derlying plot. It affirmed the “deep alliance between the practices of consumerism and

the practices of patriotism” in America (Sturken 2007: 40). Disney would have em-

ployed a “commodity fetishism [that] endows commodities with meanings that are dis-

connected from their production and economic effects” (ibid: 41). Instead, the market-

place would have solidified a direct link between the act of buying and the American

national self as consumer; in this case, a consumer of patriotic goods.

A second territory that exemplified the way in which the entertainingly presented

plot behind DA overshadowed an educationally detailed representation of the historical

event would have been Civil War Fort. This area was featured prominently in the public

discussions due to the park’s proximity to the Manassas battlefield. Contrary to the bat-

tlefield’s occupation with the course of two specific battles and the soldiers involved in

them, Civil War Fort was to deliver an ‘anonymous’ and essentially placeless account

of that war. It was to broach the issue of “the nation’s greatest crisis” (fig. 7) thus apply-

ing a fixed label to the war and endowing it with outstanding national importance. The

Civil War would have been affirmed as a symbol for the rough beginnings of the United

States and as the starting point of an unprecedented and ‘exceptionally’ successful story.

The visitors would have been able to experience THE defining moment in the country’s

memory and would have felt blessed to have been part of the progress achieved ever

since. By affirming the significance of a foundational, collectively remembered event,

the American self would have perceived its cultural identity as immediately emanating

from it and would have been firmly rooted in the Civil War.

In consequence, drawing on the Civil War to explain the basic features of Ameri-

can cultural identity would mean that the vigor of American individuals was directly re-

61

lated to the strength of the Civil War soldiers. The fact that the country overcame the

hardships of such a crisis would have sent the confident message that anything was pos-

sible for the American citizen. Naturally, such a message would have complied with

Disney’s pleasurable, positive theme park philosophy; however, it could also have put

every other crisis and war out of perspective and the impact of more recent events of na-

tional significance could have been devalued.

While the overall plotline of Civil War Fort would have been affirmative of the

image of the strong, crisis-tried American individual and nation, skeptics kept demand-

ing to be enlightened on how Disney planned to extract fun from “the reality of a sol-

dier’s daily life” or from being at “the center of Civil War combat” (fig. 7). First and

foremost, the Civil War territory was to exude pleasure through the mesmerizing media-

tion of the experience. The spectacular of “authentic re-enactments,” the fascinating,

technologically advanced mediation techniques and Disney’s perfectly and plausibly de-

tailed set reconstructions, the one of the war fort in particular, would have been awe-

inspiring (ibid). Like this, fun was to be produced by a combination of impressive ex-

periences and the affirmed pre-existing knowledge about the historical event’s signifi-

cance for the nation and its collective identity. It is hard to imagine that Disney would

have allowed the fascination to be spoiled by the central negativity of a war in general.

The cruelty of death, fear and pain would have had to be excluded in order for the war

to qualify as an anchor to an entirely positive identity.

Along these lines, it remained unknown how the overarching topic of slavery

would have been featured in DA’s presentation. The sensitivities surrounding this par-

ticular issue clearly surfaced in the outraged reactions to an inconsiderate statement of

Bob Weis early on in the development process. He claimed that DA would have made

the visitors “feel what it was like to be a slave" (Moe & Wilkie 1997). Even the vague

possibility of connecting slavery to an entertaining purpose provoked countless critical

responses. The American author William Styron (1994) summed up the anxiety when

he stated that a disneyfied mediation of slavery would have run the risk of portraying a

happily completed drama, instead of one that had not ended until the present time. What

is interesting to remember at this point is that even if DA had not expanded on slavery

as a cause for the war due to restrictions of its medium and considerations of its overall

plot, it would have been in the company of many battlefield presentations in the educa-

tionally oriented field. As has been stated, many Civil War battlegrounds did or do not

present detailed or even any information at all about the role of slavery as a cause for

62

the military engagement or about the role of black soldiers in combat action (the highly

interesting discussion about possible reasons or counter measures has to be postponed at

this point). More thorough research on the present-day narratives of battlefield memori-

als could also uncover further facets of the memotainment controversy in today’s heri-

tage industry.17

The third territory to illustrate how DA would have used its selected, kaleidoscopi-

cally arranged topics to create a continuous plot concerned with affirming the American

cultural identity is Victory Field. This area was to transpose the importance of military

engagements from the distant, canonized past of the Civil War to the more recent time

of the Second World War. In 1994, World War II could still have played a very promi-

nent role in the communicative memory of most families. Instead of providing another

background to the early foundation of the USA, Victory Field aimed at relating addi-

tional features of the American cultural identity to military conflict and technical ad-

vances.

At the time of DA, World War II enjoyed the reputation of the “Good War” (Scott

& Zac 1993: 317) in the American perception and it was this image that would have

been transported to Victory Field. The name of the area already summarized the mes-

sage of the two main topics that were to be presented here. First, the field would have

celebrated American technological ingenuity via displays of its exceptional “military

advancements” (fig. 8) and the experimental spirit of national heroes like the Wright

Brothers18 (ibid). This cornerstone of American identity mirrors a deep-rooted fascina-

tion with defensive technologies and innovative progress. This territory would thus have

validated the feeling that the American nation provided anyone with the ideal conditions

to excel at similarly genius developments.

The second main topic, in fact a consequence of the first, would have been the af-

firmation of American military superiority, as it was proven by the perfect example of

the victorious outcome of the ‘presentable’ WW II. Attractions on Victory Field were to

include the chance to “operate tanks and weapons in combat” and “experience firsthand

what America’s soldiers [had] faced in defense of freedom” (fig. 8). The joy in this play-

ful war action would have been produced through the knowledge about the historical

victory. Once more, it seems unimaginable that DA would have featured WW II’s war-

17 For an introductory discussion on the issue of Civil War battlefield presentations please turn to Lori Holyfield and Clifford Beacham’s article “Memory Brokers, Shameful Pasts, and Civil War Commemo-ration” (2011). 18 Orville and Wilbur Wright flew the world’s first, self-built plane in 1903 in Kitty Hawk, North Caro-lina (Longman 2009: “the Wright Brothers”).

63

fare horrors of mass slaughter, insane brutality and infinitely traumatic conditions on the

front lines. One can postulate that the entertaining mediation of war in a theme park

must necessarily be guided by selective amnesia and must focus on the worship of the

soldiers and celebration of victories.

In combination, both of Victory Field topics would have supported an American

self-image as the world’s leading superpower, ready to defend freedom based on its ex-

ceptional credentials of military success and ingenuity. This territory could have en-

couraged visible displays of patriotism and pride towards America’s serving men and a

deep thankfulness for their achievements. In a somewhat less obvious manner, Victory

Field would also have been connected to the abovementioned deeply-rooted fear for los-

ing the achieved status of freedom and democracy. However, as fear is naturally not ac-

cepted as a theme park feature, Victory Field would have affirmed the visitors’ confi-

dence in successful methods of self-defense. It was to reassure the visitors of two major

cultural identity narratives by providing a doubtlessly fascinating and adventurous en-

gagement with war and military technology.

In a discussion of the American Adventure attraction at Walt Disney World, which

is also concerned with the story of the country’s past, Wallace remarked that, in terms

of the content displayed, “the silences [got] louder the close the show [got] to the pre-

sent” (1996: 152). The same seems to have applied to the proposed mix of DA’s territo-

ries as the closest the park would have come to the present was the year 1945. Hence, it

would have entirely avoided featuring less heroic, in fact highly controversial historical

episodes. The Korean or the Vietnam War, neither of which readily lend themselves to

affirming characteristics of American cultural identity, would have been omitted en-

tirely and so would have been the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. DA’s plot was

not open for any elements that might have distorted its overall reassuring message or

that could not be communicated in a solely entertaining manner. Rather, the park’s plot

conveyed a plausible and closed narrative through self-referential sites of memory and,

thus, would have produced “the glue that holds [the American people] together” (Kam-

men 1997: 223), the kaleidoscopically arranged frame to its cultural existence and iden-

tity. Like this, the emphasis on the entertaining ‘character trait’ of Disney would have

reaffirmed the company’s symbolism as the American self, so that Disney’s America

could also be read as an abbreviated form of ‘Disney is America’.

Pierre Nora originally intended for the sites of memory to be an instrument for un-

covering the constructedness of cultural memory in the modern age and for deconstruct-

64

ing fixed master narratives (Berger & Seiffert 2014: 26). With DA it was feared that the

American past would be sanitized in such a way that the result would be “a monolithic

notion of national identity” (Giroux 1994). Exactly this overall affirmative nature of the

perfect presentations could indeed have prevented the emergence of a critical historical

consciousness. The nostalgic idealization of the past, the careful suspicion of the present

and the production of a deceptive, because entirely positive, future throughout the park

would have reinforced such criticism (also cf. Newcomb 2003: 86ff.). However, it is

dangerous to simply dismiss a theme park like DA as a mere entertainment spectacle

that consciously deceives its guests with a reassuring plot. On the contrary, the park

could have had the potential for accentuating the palimpsest nature of the sites of mem-

ory. DA was to be concerned with the underlying somewhat deeper core of the Ameri-

can self and, in this manner, it could have established a solid basis of the American cul-

tural identity, hopefully open for additional refinement.

The entertaining memory of DA was likely to generate interest in Virginia’s sur-

rounding historic sites, which treated single elements of the park’s kaleidoscopic past in

a more detailed way. For the duration of the visit the perfect theme park experience was

not to be thwarted by negative themes or presentations. However, its perfection was

sure to continue to have an effect on the tourists, young and old, beyond the streets of

Crossroads USA. The thought processes thus triggered might have raised questions and

doubts, answers to which could then have been provided at an array of different local

sites. In this way, Disney’s innocent, assuring plot could have been “a prologue and a

preparation for the past (wars and all) that produced the present (warts and all)” (Kam-

men 1997: 224f.) and, therefore, could have initiated an effective collaboration among

the sites of the heritage industry. The Disney Company itself had a similar cooperation

in mind: “We are just a couple of paragraphs in an encyclopedia of information. [The

guests are] (…) going to want to see more” (Robert Shinn in Boyd 1994). In sum, DA’s

entertaining plot condensed American cultural memory to quintessential, yet effective

‘Americanness’. For most opponents this kaleidoscopic selection and arrangement of

the elements rendered the production far too reductive and simplified.

6.3 The Spiritual Experience and the Commodification of Place

The previously discussed DA territories have already demonstrated how the goal to cre-

ate the utmost sense of pleasure affected the chosen plot elements and their underlying

messages as well as mediation strategies. The ‘entertainment-first’ approach was further

the primary guideline in several of the park’s territories that were designated to deal

65

with issues and employ techniques connected to spiritual experiences. Those territories

were also designed to make the experiences pleasurable and affirm the visitors’ Ameri-

can cultural identity. The latter would additionally have been strengthened through the

shared memorable moments with a group of like-minded participants. It is easily imag-

inable that to experience the territories and their cultural memory mediations as a ho-

mogenous visitor group can render each individual’s spiritual attachment to that mem-

ory even stronger and more significant.

Taking these thoughts into consideration, the term spiritual was intentionally cho-

sen to describe an experience relating to a quasi-religious awareness. It is important that

associations with concrete religions like Christianity, Judaism or Islam are avoided.

Rather, a visit to DA would have aroused spiritual feelings linked to American civil re-

ligion. Due to the direct connection of a “cultural religiosity” (Kerwin Klein in Winter

2001: 66) to symbols of the state, traditionally religious terminologies such as sacred,

sacrificial or holy were discarded to refer to the experiences that would have been pro-

vided in DA (these terms do return in the context of the Manassas battleground, how-

ever). Thus, the entertaining theme park can also be distinguished rhetorically from

other, more ‘religiously’ charged settings or points of discussions.

As discussed, civil religion denotes a transfer of religious thought and organiza-

tional structures to secular settings, most often settings connected to the political institu-

tion of the American state. In this way, the nation and symbols for the nation are treated

and spoken of in a similar fashion as meaningful elements of a religion. The entertain-

ingly spiritual experience of DA would have been triggered by meaningful elements of

American civil religion, which would have been embedded in fascinating settings and

presented via captivating technologies. The following analyses of three selected territo-

ries aim at showing which kinds of spiritual experiences would have been offered and

will provide approaches to understanding why the opposition was adamantly opposed to

an entertaining spirituality made by Disney.

The first territory to be discussed is President’s Square. It was to house the Hall of

Presidents, an attraction that was rumored to be transferred to Virginia from Orlando’s

Disney World. In the Hall of Presidents the stories and public images of popular heads

of state would have been presented to the audience on a stage-like construction. In this

area of the park, the audience would have been asked to remain physically inactive and

take in the production from the silent observer’s point of view. This allocation of roles

provides us with the first clue to a setting of civil religion. The mental image of the visi-

66

tors sitting in their seats, attentively watching and quietly listening to the speeches of

the life-like robot-presidents on matters of the state, instantly reminds us of a church’s

authoritative clergyman or -woman interpreting matters of the faith to their disciples.

The up-and-running Hall of Presidents attraction in Walt Disney World currently

introduces every American president.19 While DA’s promotional brochure situates the

territory within the timeframe of 1750 to 1800, it is highly doubtful that the attraction

would only have featured such few American leaders. In one way or another, the form

of presentation would have endowed the human-like, well-familiar figures with the au-

thority of religious dignitaries. Taking this thought one step further, they would have

become saint-like personages, who would have ‘spoken’ to their congregation about

core values of the society, about political hardships and solutions to them. In the context

of civil religion, these secular leaders would have taken on a role comparable to God’s

‘deputies’ in a church. They would have been perceived as the ones having defined, de-

fended and guided the nation through successful and troubled times. Resultantly, the

guests would have been inclined to worship and thank the important politicians for their

devotedness to the nation. The reverence for their deeds would have been condensed in

an impressive production with remarkable parallels to a Protestant church service.

It remained unclear whether the concept of the existing attraction was to be

changed and which presidents would have been chosen for the ‘leading roles’ in the fi-

nal attraction. It seems very likely, though, that the ones perceived as particularly sig-

nificant in the development of the American nation, in its genesis, would have remained

in focus. In the general cultural perception, presidents like Washington or Lincoln have

been endowed with more saint-like qualities than, for example, Van Buren or Cleve-

land. In the existing attraction, the presidents that are given voices to ‘address’ the audi-

ence hold speeches that advise the listeners on how to live life as American citizens. In

the fashion of priests, the presidents would have appeared as admirable advisors to their

congregation.

The mode of presentation in the Hall of Presidents, Disney’s own trademark tech-

nology of Audio-Animatronics, could have fascinated the visitors to a degree at which

the pleasure of the entertaining attraction and the emotional state elicited by the ‘con-

tact’ with the presidents and their messages would have converged in a single spiritual

experience. Resorting to an image inspired by American civil religion, one can think of

the guests leaving the darkened Hall of Presidents with a refreshed cultural memory of 19 For a visitor’s recording of the current presentation at the Hall of Presidents please follow the provided link: ‹https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vHOng0vm8o&spfreload=10› (10/27/2015).

67

their admirable political rulers and their legacies and then proceeding into the light of

the surrounding park, reassured of their core ‘Americanness’.

Direct criticism for this particular territory was scarce in 1994. Nevertheless, criti-

cal voices towards President’s Square seem imaginable. Such an openly positive and

reaffirming adoration of individual historic figures would necessarily have been selec-

tive and would have disregarded their negative political actions, choices or orders be-

cause a saint is to be a flawless role model to his still un-saintly followers. In this way, a

pre-existing historical consciousness would merely have been uncritically renewed, in-

stead of expanded or modified. This potential criticism would have been appropriate if

the aim of the attraction had been to provide an objective and comprehensive under-

standing of the political leaders of the USA. In terms of creating spiritual experiences

that connect the individual visitor to the nation and his fellow citizens, this territory

would most probably have succeeded and would have seamlessly blended in with the

overall affirmative plot line of DA.

The aspect of civil religion does not only show itself with regard to worshipped

personas. The national self is also attached to specific physical sites of national mem-

ory, which, according to Nora, become national heritage’s “secular equivalent[s] of

sanctity” (1997). Fulfilling this role, the “symbolically-loaded sites” serve to create “an

awareness – an a-where-ness – of national identity” (Osborne 2001: 3). Particular sites

become socially meaningful and are endowed with powerful national (his)stories so that

an “abstract space is transformed into a particular place” (ibid: 5). The memories, values

and identity of a culture firmly attach themselves to symbolic physical surroundings. An

understanding of these three abstract notions can be developed through “ritualized acts

of commemoration” that help the “[nation] demonstrate [its] continuity” (ibid: 25). Like

this, according to Halbwachs, “the place bears the stamp of the group, and vice versa”

(in Truc 2011: 151) and visitors to such sites of national interest develop a direct con-

nection to the past of the nation and to their present selves ‘merely’ by being IN the

space (Holyfield & Beacham 2011: 443).

The described close link between space, collective memory and identity is very

common in religious contexts. Sites where defining events took place or worshipped

figures appear(ed) are likely to be declared sacred. Physical contact to such places then

reminds the believers of their religion’s memory and also of their own belonging to the

chosen group. It is this longing for physical and spiritual connection that the everlasting

appeal of pilgrimages to holy sites is rooted in (A. & J. Assmann 2014: 38ff.). In the con-

68

text of civil religion, it has been stated that “in American culture, ground has been con-

sidered sacred when blood has been spilled on it” and because of this “the concept of

sacred ground has been almost exclusively secular and national rather than religious”

(Sturken 2007: 199) 20. Parallel to a religious context, each American sacred site of cul-

tural memory is transformed into a site of worship and “patriotic inspiration” (Edward

Linenthal in ibid: 199f.) where “all activities have meaning” (Sturken 2007: 200).

DA provided the chance for a direct comparison between the ‘authentic’ sacredness

of the neighboring Civil War battlefield of Manassas and the spirituality of the recon-

structed battlefield of the Civil War Fort territory. The battleground of DA would have

been created for the purpose of housing a spectacle and the reenactment of an unspecific

war combat would have captured the onlookers’ imagination through an overflow of

visual and auditory cues. These would have been the tools of the theme park to provide

pleasurable memories of a day in the imagined world of the past. The spirituality of the

battlefield presentation could once again have been found in the link between the com-

munally witnessed re-enactment and the overall significance of the event in the devel-

opment of the American nation and character. The fun elements might not have led to

immediate contemplative actions because they would have primarily generated enter-

tainment. As a result, the visitors would have left the territory with a renewed sense of

belonging based on external input, instead of internal processes.

In this way, the DA battlefield would have excluded the place argument from its

entertainment equation – not least so because its property had not been a historical war

location. The project’s foes, on the contrary, viewed this nonchalant handling of the im-

portance of place for a deep understanding of the Civil War as a desecration of the

nearby ‘hallowed’ ground of Manassas. They assessed that the imitation of a battle for

mere pleasure in such close proximity to an original battlefield was to commit plain sac-

rilege (Kanelis 1994). A press commentary expressed this sentiment in the following

way: “We don’t need [a theme park] at a site consecrated by the blood of young Ameri-

can warriors” (ibid). Their sacrifice for the ‘greater good’ of what was to become the

American nation has been inscribed into the particular site and its sanctification is seen

as an inevitable consequence. In this manner, any battleground is by definition place-

bound and this defining feature can never be recreated in the most placeless medium

one can think of, in a theme park.

20 Almost needless to say that these statements refer to the American immigrant culture and exclude the culture of Native Americans.

69

People do not simply visit American national battlefields, “people make pilgrim-

ages” (Sturken 2007: 212) to them in search of serious contemplation and commemora-

tion and in order to connect their identities to the foundational myths of the place (Win-

ter 2008: 73). Like the space of a theme park, the hallowed battlefield is set apart from

the surrounding normality; however, the separation is not between the fantastic and the

real but rather between the sacred and the profane. In conclusion, the space of the sacred

environment and its symbolic forces trigger a deep spiritual experience of the individual

believing in their powers.

It is necessary to return to the debate of the two types of authenticity to fully under-

stand the rejection of Disney’s proposed spiritual battlefield experience. DA’s offer

would have provided the guests with an existentially authentic experience. The per-

ceived authenticity would then have “[triggered] consumer imagination” and would

have allowed for a spiritual connection with the meaningful event (Chronis & Hampton

2006: 367). The opponents of the park, on the other hand, saw the counterfeit battle

space as incapable of arousing any emotions or connections as meaningful as the ones at

on sacred national battlefield. The primary condition for being able to properly value

and understand the true significance of the Civil War for the American society was to

stand on the hallowed ground and establish a connection to the authentic roots of the na-

tion.

A third DA territory was to provide the visitors with spiritual experiences by refer-

ring to a well-known, socially-charged place: the area called We the People would have

been concerned with the American immigrant experience. The imitations of buildings

on New York’s Ellis Island, commonly known as the gateway into America for large

numbers of immigrants, would have been located at the shores of the artificial lake

Freedom Bay. As the brochure’s concept art suggests, guests could have entered the ter-

ritory by boat, thus symbolically retracing the steps of former immigrants (fig. 2). We

the People would have symbolized the United States as a ‘safe haven’ and stabilized

this already familiar notion in the minds of the people.

Similar to the Hall of Presidents, the visitors would have experienced the affirma-

tion of their courageous, triumphant and diverse society in the company of like-minded

people. The territory was supposed to invoke the common core of society’s immigration

experience and, based on that, of the nation’s successful development. As for individual

visitors, this territory would have given them the chance to connect their family history

and the experiences of their ancestors, or even of themselves, and to the experience of

70

the social group as a whole. Via this link, the individuals and their potential communi-

cative memory would have been closely aligned with the national cultural memory.

Above all, the communal experience or re-experience of a formative moment in the

nation’s memory could have unleashed a spiritual mental state. The physical contact

with a replicated Ellis Island could have been translated as a refreshed entering of the

American soil and a validation of the norms, values and possibilities associated with it.

Like this, there would have been an emotional attachment to the specific place as the

site of entrance into the vast land beyond. The commonly known notion of America as

the land of hopes and dreams and its society’s multicultural foundation would have been

reaffirmed. A spiritual journey of this kind could also have been designed to contrast the

rough beginnings of an American immigrant to most of the guests’ comfortable situa-

tion in the present. The spirituality of We the People would thus have triggered emo-

tions of gratitude and patriotic pride.

The mediation of these spiritual experiences was quite vaguely described to include

“powerful multimedia” attractions that would have “explor[ed] and explain[ed] how

these conflicts among the varied cultures continue to help shape this nation” (fig. 8).

While it was hence acknowledged that some problematic issues were part of the immi-

grant situation of America, their positive influence on the diversification of the country

was highlighted while information on the issues’ causes or solutions to them was ex-

cluded. The conflict would have been embedded in a story of success and it seems

unlikely that DA would have dwelled extensively on topics such as poverty, rejection,

racism or social exclusion. Through the powerful and mesmerizing technological pro-

ductions We the People would have captured the visitors’ imagination and fascination

so that, first and foremost, they could have experienced pleasure at watching the presen-

tations and the negative aspects of immigrant life in American society would not have

come to their immediate attention. We the People, just like the name suggests, would

have been a rendition of the commonly shared immigrant roots of the nation, which

have blossomed into a unified people; rotted branches of that national plant would of

course have been removed from the picture.

The overall spiritual experience of this territory would have been evoked by the

symbolic reconstruction of Ellis Island, a place that has not been declared sacred be-

cause of war action but because of the function it played in the development of Amer-

ica’s modern national myth. The particular building houses a common characteristic as-

sociated with the United States, namely the merging of the disconnected clusters of im-

71

migrants into one American nation. It is thus presented as the site of transformation

where many individual parts become a united whole. The emotions evoked in this terri-

tory would have supported the overall plot of the theme park and affirmed these positive

traits of American collective identity. However, it is highly doubtful that the rendition

would have critically illuminated any mistakes the nation has made in its political and

social handling of immigration. After all, how could a romantically disneyfied We the

People have allowed the symbolic place to be associated with hardship and failure?

These three examples offer explanations for the opponents’ fears that Disney’s en-

tertaining spiritual experiences would have had the power to replace the inner thought

processes evoked at a hallowed ground like Manassas. The existentially authentic spiri-

tuality, initiated for example by a reconstructed battleground, was feared to overshadow

emotional attachments to historically authentic places. If sacred sites lost their attraction

and significant role in anchoring the nation’s identity because they were replaced by

imitated spiritual sites, places like battlefields would vanish from the cultural memory

map. In the end, it came down to a feared replacement of the sacred by the profane. In

DA the latter would have been connected to reconstructed sites, mediated via entertain-

ing presentations and commercialized through products and entrance fees. For ardent

supporters of conventionally authentic sacred grounds a spiritual experience could only

be evoked ON and BY said sites, entirely disconnected from the profane world of enter-

tainment and commerce.

To conclude this topic, it is worthwhile to contemplate Wallace’s line of thought

that pondered on the question whether the declared sacredness of such sites was also

their “point of vulnerability” (1996: 168). He proposes that sacredness can render na-

tional monuments “inviolable” and “beyond change” and can even lead to a paralysis of

historical imagination (ibid). Hence, it is important to emphasize that none of those sites

have come into existence sacred. They are socially endowed with meaning and symbol-

ism and are given leading roles in the performance of national myths. It is essential to

remember that “there is no inherent identity to places: this is constructed by human be-

havior” (Osborne 2001: 4). In fact, only through “repetitive prosaic practices” of com-

memoration do the places come into existence (ibid). These remarks evoke Nora’s

original intention of revealing the constructedness of a society’s sites of memory. In

general, hallowed places thus live fragile existences and the fear of DA’s opponents’

that they might have been threatened by ‘more memorable’ sites was not altogether

paranoid.

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6.4 An Appeal to the Senses – Providing a Fantastic Feeling

The power of the site, whether historically original or reproduced, also becomes evident

in the next aspect of the theme park that is connected to the creation of a primarily en-

tertaining experience. As was just concluded, a selected visualized site of memory can

trigger spiritual processes in the minds of park visitors. Pursuing a different angle on the

performative physicality of the site, the following pages will deal with the visitors’ af-

fection within the designed environment and the way it would have contributed to the

overall entertaining agenda of DA. As mentioned above, the engagement of the human

senses was central to the planned park, which was to work on a multisensory system of

signs that would have produced a ‘real’ fantasy, “a fantastic feeling” (Wang 1999: 360).

By moving through a theme park its visitors interact physically with the entire

space and in this manner they become “active elements of the environment” (Newcomb

2003: 54) or, as Disney officially proclaims, “participants” (ibid: 55). This relationship

can be reversed in saying that a theme park without actively engaging visitors is not a

theme park any longer. As extreme cases, abandoned and entirely depopulated, almost

haunted parks all over the world have attracted attention for what they have ceased to

be.21 In a ‘living’ theme park the visitors’ movement through the confined space “al-

lows the collapse of the distance between the observer and the observed” (ibid: 55),

which means that physical interaction does not only take place between visitors but also

between visitors and the whole entertaining environment, including its staff members

(ibid: 57). The theme park survives on and actively encourages this interaction between

the human beings and the space. One strategy used to invoke such contact is referred to

as streetmosphere in the Disney jargon. It describes “the experiential theater within the

park (…) consisting of one or more cast members playing specific, thematically appro-

priate roles within a specific space and encouraging an impromptu gathering of audi-

ence members” (ibid: 63). DA’s thematic orientation would have connected the street-

mosphere element with the broad mediation strategy of living-history as it was intro-

duced above.

In the heritage industry living-history is widely favored because it appeals to an

audience under the influence of the affective turn and hence renders offers marketable

and competitive on the disputed market. As Aleida Assmann (2003: 16) has claimed

“emotional affect plays a pivotal role” in making some memories more stable than oth-

ers and, in this way, the bodily experiences triggering affect become one “source of the

21 A Google search of the phrase ‘abandoned theme park’ pulls up close to 2.78 million items and almost 9 million images.

73

authentic self” (Wang 1999: 362). The succeeding example will demonstrate how au-

thentic, sensual experiences would have produced identification with the American cul-

tural self in line with DA’s overall plot. The strategies that were to be employed in the

park would have to have allowed for a constantly entertaining encounter with national

memory so that their appeal to the senses would have produced a “sensory blanketing”

of the guests (Alexander Wilson in Legnaro 2009: 40).

DA’s prime example of how to generate such ‘sensational’ experiences, which

would have supported the entertaining affirmation of the American cultural identity,

would have been Family Farm. As mentioned in the beginning, the promotional mate-

rial advertised this territory’s focus of “pastoral delights and insights into their produc-

tion” and recognized farms in general as “the heart of early American families” (fig. 9).

The planned activities were to include harvesting agricultural goods, producing ice-

cream, taking care of and working with farm animals, or the participation in the per-

formance of a wedding, a barn dance and a buffet (ibid). Admittedly the descriptions

remained quite sparse, but, in combination with the provided knowledge about living-

history, it is still possible to imagine how the farm would have appealed to its visitors’

senses. Family Farm would certainly have been populated by a ‘typical’ early American

family: a living-history setting in which park employees dressed in contemporary attire

would have attended to daily tasks of the working farm, while simultaneously engaging

with the guests and encouraging them to take part in the activities. The extraordinary

and festive occasions of peasant life, which interestingly would have become ordinary

events of the park’s performance schedule, would have attracted even larger groups of

DA’s ‘rural population’ to create a living-history spectacle.

As the brochure’s park plan shows, Family Farm would have been somewhat se-

cluded from neighboring territories (fig. 10). The setting would have enabled an overall

peaceful, rural atmosphere without too much noise interference from the adjacent the-

matic areas. Thus, the prominent noises greeting the visitors’ ears would have included

the animals’ sounds, as well as those of the machines’ engines used on the fields. Dur-

ing the barn wedding and dance one would have been able to hear music, singing or

cheering. The eyes would have been pleased by the colors of the costumes and buildings

and one could have taken delight in observing the animals in their ‘natural’ habitat and

the farm’s inhabitants as they went about their farming tasks. One can imagine the

smells of the foods produced, of the well-kept flower beds and the animals kept on site.

74

All sensations would have been strengthened by the opportunity to actively partici-

pate in the events taking place and, in this way, to temporarily cross the barrier between

observers and observed. First of all, the visitors would have been able to touch the scen-

ery, the animals or the products being made. The latter would then have been offered for

on-site tasting (with a preceding purchase, one can assume), thereby tying the produc-

tion process to a distinct sensual pleasure. Additionally, the brochure even promised the

possibility to be an active part of the barn wedding and dance. In this case, the living-

history performance would have turned from a theater-like play that the visitors would

have perceived from the point of view of the passive audience (Newcomb 2003: 63) to a

performance in which the guests would have become “featured actor[s]” (ibid: 64).

Such an extreme case of presencing the past would have allowed for the cultural mem-

ory to come alive and to become stabilized through physical and sensual involvement.

With Disney’s promise of perfected performances, the programmed space of Fam-

ily Farm would certainly have affected the park’s guests. They would have linked their

sensual experiences with the contents of the surrounding territory and indeed would

have celebrated the fantastic farm as the origin of the American family. Once more, the

nation’s cultural identity would have been rooted in a concrete, visual setting. The farm

environment, which was to be mediated through its entertaining and pleasant features,

would have been equated with the cradle of American family values, thus affirming

their prevailing significance in American society. The visitors’ personal memories of

the mediated cultural memory would have been stabilized by attaching it to affect and

sensual pleasure.

More generally, Family Farm would have catered to the overall nostalgia for by-

gone times. Similar to the presentation of other living-history farms in the industry, it

was to mirror the “nation’s happy childhood (…) in which people of all social statuses

happily coexisted” (Barthel 1996: 349). The immediacy of the sensual experiences

might have evoked “a desire to return to one’s [own] childhood” that can be imagined to

have allowed for deeper connections to the surrounding natural environment (ibid).

While this kind of nostalgia also includes the notion of loss, DA would have given visi-

tors the chance to physically and sensually relive said idyllic and, one might dare say,

imagined childhood and to be entertained by these imagined memories. Family Farm

would have catered to the cultural memory of America’s past as “the garden before the

machine” (ibid), a phrase that additionally connects it to the Christian notion of the Gar-

den of Eden. As for children visiting the territory, it would have provided them with an

75

immediate, touchable encounter with the rural, pastoral lifestyle of a past they never

knew. Through the on-site experiences they would have been able to include this kind

of past in their collective memory of what America used to be and feel like.

The mediation of the entertaining, sensual experiences via the inclusive living-

history offers would have cast the park’s visitors in the roles of ‘false eye-witnesses’.

Their personal memories of the portrayed cultural memory could have been dominated

and maybe distorted by the sensual pleasures and affective connection to the scenes per-

formed. They might have fallen prey to what McCalman called “the re-enactment fal-

lacy of equating literal resemblance with the truth” (2007: 10). The attractiveness of this

fallacy can partially be attributed to the aspects excluded from the reproduction of the

American farm due to their lack of entertaining qualities. While Family Farm is a terri-

tory that can easily be conjured up in one’s imagination, all mental visualizations

probably include, for instance, nothing but sunny weather – the mental picture painted

would simply be unsuitable for rain. Due to the lack of secured information we need to

resort to speculation, but it is similarly difficult to imagine bad smells, dialogues about

droughts, floods, crop failure or social inequalities among the farm’s workers, a repre-

sentation of the fear for industrial change or talk about the physical hardships of manag-

ing a profitable farm. In the end, it is tempting to consider DA’s living-history farm in

the light of Anderson’s alarmed suggestion: the farm could very likely have become a

“temporary escap[e] for a people suffering from acute nostalgia” (1992: 468). Yet, even

if DA’s Family Farm had belonged to this category, it would still have allowed for the

territory to contribute in the overall plot of the park. First, it would have provided pure

entertainment that linked the collective memory to an agrarian past. In a second step, its

educational value could have been established by the close contact to animals, plants

and pastoral production techniques and the literally moving portrayal of rural life. In

general, however, it would only have been possible to judge the accurateness of the ter-

ritory’s contents in a final, built version of the park.

With its generally proclaimed aims, DA would have followed the guidelines that

so-called living-history farms pursue as well. The international Association for Living

History, Farm and Agriculture Museums (ALHFAM) claims that living-history farms

“offer three-dimensional settings for visitors to learn about the past” and provide

“multi-sensory, minds-on education” (Alhfam “Living History Farms”). Their current

descriptions on how these cultural memory offers ideally work still resemble those pro-

vided by Disney in 1994. Most obviously, living-history farms are declared to “bring

76

history to life” (ibid) and to provide “experiential interpretations of history” (Alhfam

“About Alhfam”). These were also two of Michael Eisner’s overarching goals for DA.

The difference between the approaches of institutions affiliated with ALHFAM and of

DA is once more rooted in the primary functions of the respective farms. The territory of

Family Farm was primarily an entertainment device concerned with the affirmation of

selected features of American cultural memory. On the contrary, ALHFAM’s founding

members pledged, among other guidelines, to “encourage research, publication, and

training in historic agricultural practices,” to “sponsor scholarly symposium and publi-

cations dealing with agricultural history” and to “foster in present and future generations

an appreciation and understanding of the ideas and ideals which have contributed to the

greatness of American agriculture” (Alhfam “The History of the Association”). A simi-

lar hierarchy of functions is provided by the mission statement of the Living History

Farms (LHF) in Urbandale, Iowa. The institution identifies as “an interactive outdoor

history museum which educates, entertains and connects people (…) to Midwestern ru-

ral life experiences” (LHF “About Us”).

As could be seen, the educational components define the offers of ALHFAM’s af-

filiates and the example of the Iowa farm as recreational education and their agendas are

primarily oriented towards “the enrichment of the educational curricula of preschool

through college and [towards] adult education” (LHF “About Us”). Nevertheless, these

institutions also provide evidence which shows that “the line between informing and

performing is porous” (Winter 2001: 59). The Iowa museum, for example, advertises its

construction of “authentic simulations of typical historical farm sites” and the perform-

ance of “the daily routines of representative historical years” (LHF “About Us”). These

formulations instantly point back to DA’s promotional campaign and, yet again, there is

evidence that the “boundaries between truth and fiction become blurred in such storytel-

ling” (Winter 2001: 59).

The evidently close connection between all offers of the industry supports the idea

that DA’s living-history farm could not have been rejected solely on the basis of its me-

diation techniques or primarily affective production. Those features were and are shared

by many institutions of the general industry. Family Farm’s openly entertaining func-

tion, on the other hand, would have remained the crucial difference to other living-

history offers. The brief glimpse into the Iowa living-history farm’s current advertise-

ment already generates interest as to how its contents are actually mediated on site.

What kind of presentation and performance is to be expected from an educationally-

77

oriented institution wanting to survive in the intensely competitive field of the heritage

industry?

In the case of DA, the institutions of the educationally oriented field might once

again have feared the kind of influence that the park’s living-history farm could have

had on other offers pledging to more research and less fantasy. The impact of DA’s pre-

sumably high-quality representations of American rural life could have initiated new

standards and guidelines for the entire field of agricultural museums. On the hunt for

providing those fantastic feelings, the museums’ educational objective, which is to ‘give

a sense’ of traditional rural life, could have been influenced by Disney’s entertaining

‘creation of sensations’.

6.5 Memory Etiquette – “Do not Throw a Frisbee”

The development of both spiritual and sensational experiences, as well as the production

of something as elusive as fun are partially influenced by the behavior of all participants

in the activities. In general, public spaces from schools over hospitals and cemeteries to

shopping malls are linked to specific etiquettes, i.e. to more or less fixed rules of con-

duct. People are taught how to behave in these spaces in a socially acceptable way from

an early age on (Crane 1997: 46). But how does society establish these expected behav-

iorisms? Tourist settings, including theme parks or battlefields, are usually bounded

spaces and they are “stage-managed (…) to provide and sustain common-sense under-

standings about what activities should take place” within their boundaries (Edensor

2001: 63). On the one hand, this means that the operators of tourist spaces can influence

behaviorisms through established, prescriptive rules. These rules are further dependent

on and supported by “the organization, materiality and aesthetic and sensual qualities”

of the setting (ibid: 64). On the other hand, it is essential to acknowledge the influence

of the ‘users’ on the etiquette that is ultimately adhered to (ibid). In order for a specific

etiquette to become inextricably intertwined with a type of space or setting, one needs to

consider “the degree to which the tourist participants are able to immerse themselves in

[their designated] role[s]” (ibid: 66). Naturally, as will become more evident below,

such roles and rules can also be deliberately violated via what Edensor (ibid: 76) refers

to as the participants’ “[r]esistance against directors and choreographers of perform-

ance.”

In the case of DA, the memory etiquette of the park was another aspect that distin-

guished it from surrounding memory offers and contributed to the rejections of its cul-

tural memory presentation. DA’s entertainment function would have been connected to

78

behaviorisms that were markedly different from those on the Manassas battlefield.

These differences contributed to the opposition’s perception of the park as a profane site

of cultural memory desecration. The memotainment to have been performed in a theme

park would not have been in agreement with the traditional commemoration etiquette of

the historic battlefield park. In addition to the primary function of DA, Disney’s chosen

medium and the notion of authenticity would have contributed to the establishment of

and adherence to the theme park’s distinct ‘rules’ of conduct.

The very same factors influence the serious attitude of other institutions towards

etiquette. This is exemplified by the Historic Jamestown Museum and Historic Site

where teachers have to sign official forms prior to class trips to ensure that the young

visitors have been given guidance on the ‘dos and don’ts’ of the space. The performance

of cultural memory on this particular site is prescribed by these so-called etiquette

forms. The form lists prohibited activities and, for instance, reminds the students to be

“respectful to the sensitive nature of the burials, historic structures, and archeological

features.” Additionally, it instructs them to “refrain from running, making loud noises,

or in any way disrupting other people’s visitor experience” (NPS “Historic James-

town”). While a number of rules are directly connected to the cultural value of the his-

torically authentic displays, others, like the advised noise level, are detached from the

sites and artifacts. Nevertheless, the latter kind has developed into an integral part of

what can generally be called museum etiquette. These rules are actively performed by

the majority of visitors and are thus legitimated by the above-mentioned establishment

of common-sense.

Like in Historic Jamestown, the Manassas battlefield website gently advises visi-

tors on what will be expected of them during a trip to the park. The historic site’s “pri-

mary objective (…) is to preserve and interpret the history and resources” of the original

battlegrounds of two Civil War combats (NPS “Outdoor Activities”). As a site of educa-

tion, the battlefield park offers informational walking tours conducted by qualified park

rangers, visits to historic buildings on the site and a museum-like visitor center (NPS

“Things to Do”). As a site of recreation, Manassas also provides a range of outdoor ac-

tivities like birding, fishing, hiking, horseback-riding or picnicking (“Please remember

to clean up your picnic area (…) thoroughly after each use” (NPS “Picnicking”)). Most

of the offers are linked to peaceful and somewhat meditative activities and it is here that

the kind of ‘non-Disney fun’ is revealed which can be encountered on national battle-

fields (cf. 4.3). As was suggested above, many Civil War battlefield visitors even go on

79

a kind of pilgrimage to find the roots of American cultural identity and, accordingly,

their behavior and thoughts on the site are influenced by American civil religion. Resul-

tantly, the Manassas’ website informs its visitors in striking, bold letters that due to “the

historic nature of the field, the following recreational activities are prohibited: kite fly-

ing, ball games, sunbathing, and Frisbee” (NPS “Outdoor Activities”). At first read, the

short list appears somewhat randomly compiled. However, all of its items belong to the

profane everyday world of egotistic entertainment and do not induce mentally reflective

activities triggered by the symbolic land. Because of this, they are not part of the mean-

ingful, commemorative contemplation expected to be effective at a historic site of this

scale; a mindset that the history professor Roger Wilkins described as “quiet reverence”

(Keech 1994).

Manassas’ etiquette is transferable to similar historic sites and putting it into prac-

tice is taken seriously by many visitors. Commentaries in an online forum by the name

of etiquettehell reveal how appalled fellow visitors can react to violations of “National

Battlefield / Historic Site / National Cemetery etiquette” (etiquettehell forum), which is

the title of the virtual discussion thread. The American users’ anger was particularly in-

curred by the contrast between their own respect for the sacred sites, for the meaningful

events that took place on them and for the soldiers who died on them and, on the other

hand, people’s complete lack thereof. The topics of littering and (in)appropriate clothing

were emotionally discussed and two more aspects were repeatedly focused on in the

posts. The first one was concerned with a particular type of visitors to an given battle-

ground, namely children. As one user remarked “don’t allow your kids to treat [the mili-

tary historic site] like a playground” (ibid), while another advised parents not to let their

children “run up and down the rows or play leapfrog on the little stones” (ibid). The

second aspect was connected to what can be referred to as ‘noise pollution’ during a day

out on the battlefield. As can be expected, this complaint was also connected to the be-

havior of children: “The veterans who visit [the military historic site] don’t like to see

kids running around and yelling” (ibid). The online discussion about the volume of

sounds was not restricted to solely denouncing young visitors, though. After several vis-

its to the Gettysburg National Military Park one user complained that “some people

[had] no respect for the dead men” and the visitors’ “bad behavior” had included blast-

ing the car radio and screaming on the premises (ibid). As these comments reveal the

etiquette on historic sites is a highly sensitive topic to some visitors, while others may

interpret an environment in a very different way. What can be observed is a clash be-

80

tween “normative performance,” guided by the belief in the hallowed site and learned

rules of conduct, and a sort of resistance against them as addressed above (Edensor

2001: 76). Insights into the conscious and unconscious motives of the latter would pro-

vide a fruitful topic for further research.

A theme park like DA would have provided a completely contrasting setting with a

different primary aim to any of the examples just mentioned. The guests, families and

children especially, would have entered the park deliberately seeking relaxation and an

overall ‘Fun’ time. It has become clear that they would have wanted to be relieved of

the rules of the outside world, would have entered a world of profane activities and

would have been guided entirely by the internal cues of the park world. Just like the bat-

tlefield park, the theme park is a tourist stage “framed by implicit theatrical conventions

(…) within a particular dramaturgical landscape” (David Chaney in Edensor 2001: 73).

Therefore, it is not a place of freely chosen behavior patterns either; however it is re-

lieved of the traditional solemnity and humbleness of the authentically historic place.

By contrast, a theme park’s default mood is composed of high spirits and exaltation and

it is difficult to imagine hushed voices or a ban on children playing and screaming or on

Frisbee games.22 The entertainment purpose of DA would have dictated the performa-

tive rules of the park and it becomes visible how closely intertwined the primary func-

tion of each site and its respective effective etiquette are. In this way, it is possible to

define part of DA’s speculative etiquette on the basis of what it would not have entailed:

the Manassas’ rules of conduct become a ‘counter template’ to those of the theme park.

Generally, the Manassas battlefield can be identified as an introverted space; a

space which is guided by the socially defined and long-applied etiquette of a culturally

religious site. DA would have been its opposite as the extroverted space of excessive en-

tertainment and commerce, which would have allowed for a distinctly different ap-

proach to remembering the American collective past. Once again, however, the catego-

ries are not as clear and defined as the opposition made them appear in 1994. When Jay

Winter asked, “Where does pilgrimage stop and tourism take over?” (2008: 67), he un-

veiled the fine line between sacred commemorative education and the performance of

profane themed entertainment. Being part of the larger heritage industry, some of Ma-

nassas’ strategies to attract tourists resemble those that can be found at any given theme

park. The battlefield offers occasional living-history performances and aspires to be a

holiday destination for families who seek to connect to their country’s history. The 22 Banksy’s Dismaland project in the summer of 2015 suspended the ‘ordinary’ theme park etiquette and thus exposed it as another performance in a specific dramaturgical landscape (cf. e.g. Qureshi 2015).

81

park’s visitor center is equipped with multimedia presentations, such as an interactive

battle map and an orientation film, and the on-site bookstore sells not only books but

also “theme-related merchandise” (NPS “bookstore”). Thus, Manassas gives proof of

what Edensor calls the “increasingly promiscuous nature of tourism” (2001: 64).

Ultimately, DA was rejected because the characteristics of its primarily entertaining

account of cultural memory were deemed to be incompatible with, if not entirely con-

tradictory to, those of primarily educational sites. DA’s exemplary model of memotain-

ment and all its features were feared to have a disturbing influence on other authenti-

cally historic sites and their routines. The aspect of memory etiquette exemplifies how

highly valued behaviorisms form part of the dividing line between different memory of-

fers. The performative rules need to be added to the abovementioned features that led to

DA’s widespread rejection; there could only ever be one kind of memory etiquette. On a

final note, the ‘default’ performances of neither the Manassas battlefield nor the DA

theme park would have revealed their “ambivalence and contradictions” (Edensor 2001:

77). The memory etiquette of either site, any site for that matter, “obfuscate[s] the actual

contingency of performance and the innumerable performative possibilities available”

(ibid: 76).

82

7 Concluding Remarks

In the summer of 2015 the conspiracy web blog School of Athens fueled the most recent

rumors of the DA theme park being revived on the premises of Sweet Briar College in

the state of Virginia (edmundrandolph1753 2015). Although these speculations were

quickly discarded by college officials and dismissed by other bloggers, the emergence

of the rumors once again caused a stir among Disney followers and Disney foes (Frost

2015 & Riley 2015). They project itself seems to have attained a somewhat mystical

status and the ongoing attention it receives is proof that, even after a non-existence of 21

years, DA still arouses people’s interest, concerns and emotions.

Memotainment based on the American past still polarizes and the issues behind the

controversy enjoy a topicality that not many subjects can claim for themselves in a time

of ever changing sensations. The importance of collective memory for the construction

and affirmation of cultural and personal identities is certainly one reason for this phe-

nomenon. The American context of DA has provided insights into the uniqueness of cul-

tural memory and identity as it “pitted the trademarks of popular culture against the

landmarks of American history” (Moe & Wilkie 1997: 34). The Walt Disney Company,

the archetype of entertainment and commerce, was the initiator of the theme park and

the dispute around DA can thus be regarded as a ‘prototype controversy’ for any other

projects based on cultural memory and entertainment. The issues of concern with oppo-

nents and proponents of the 1994 park are to be seen as a template for the high number

of conflicts fought between defenders of traditional approaches to preserving and medi-

ating cultural heritage and more extraordinary developments of the leisure industry.

Further examples from the years after DA indicate that the contested terrain of cul-

tural memory is simultaneously universally existent and culturally specific. While I had

personally been unaware of any such propositions, Kelleher (2004: 9) mentions repeat-

edly resurfacing ideas for a Berlin Wall theme park. In 1995, preliminary plans for a

Die Mauer Erlebnispark in South Florida did in fact exist and a search for investors in

the construction of the project was about to be conducted (Vogt 2001: 21).23 The plans

were soon after buried – understandably so as the thought of such a memotainment offer

simply appears ludicrous to German (and apparently American) minds. The Berlin Wall

is still so very present in the communicative memory of the German people and it forms

such a basic, yet fragile part of the country’s cultural memory and identity. Likewise,

the larger frame of the Cold War was still a comparable specter in the United States of

23 For a recent comment on the failed project compare Fred Grimm’s (2015) article “South Florida’s wildest plans never materialize.”

83

the mid-1990s. Neither topic openly lends itself to being the theme of a fun-oriented

park. Issues concerning the authenticity of objects and sites, the cruelty and deadliness

of the wall and what it symbolized, or the importance of reverent commemoration with-

out besmirching the memory of the victims immediately come to mind. However,

would this topic have been all too different from resurrecting a Civil War fort or watch-

ing battleships shoot at each other in a pretend life-or-death struggle? Could the pleas-

urable leisure experience somehow have allowed for a deeper connection of the individ-

ual visitor to this particular cultural past?

A further example is provided by The Rocks in Sydney, Australia – a “heritage pre-

cinct” that has been redeveloped by official authorities to draw locals and foreign tour-

ists to the historic urban waterfront quarter (Waitt 2000: 835). According to Waitt’s

study, members of both visitor groups perceive The Rocks’ portrayal of the Australian

past as authentic by their personal standards (ibid: 857). The author, on the other hand,

claims that its “commodified” (ibid: 857), “sanitized, patriarchal, and Eurocentric per-

spective” (ibid: 843) silences alternative versions of the maritime heritage and that this

kind of Australian cultural memory entirely ignores matters of racism, oppression, ex-

ploitation, abuse or poverty (ibid). The revitalized urban space has become a perfect en-

vironment for leisure time entertainment combined with a controlled educational ap-

proach that introduces the site as the “cradle” and “birth-place of the Australian nation”

(ibid: 840). As in the case of DA, the development of The Rocks was guided by an enter-

tainment-first approach that aimed at reconnecting its visitors to a specific interpretation

of cultural memory. While Waitt’s study is highly critical of the official representation

(ibid: 858), it still has to be acknowledged that The Rocks opens a window to A past and

ONE possible connection to Australia’s cultural memory – a window which could other-

wise have stayed shut entirely for many of the visitors. In the discussions surrounding

this memotainment offer the legitimate concerns about authenticity, selectivity, the

quarter’s particular location or the experiences of the visitors were highly reminiscent of

those in the DA conflict.

These two broad outlines demonstrate that there are great sensitivities to the media-

tion of cultural memory via strategies of the entertainment business in today’s world.

The paper at hand has provided insights into the thought processes behind the almost

inevitably arising controversies over cultural memory, identity and, broadly speaking,

over narrated national histories. All memotainment approaches need to be regarded as

84

performances that treat similar topics but situate them in different cultural settings, me-

diate them through different forms and assign different functions to them.

DA, as well as the rejected German-American and the existing Australian project

highlight the fine line between offers of the traditional heritage industry and commer-

cialized memotainment projects. The ones in the former category have been shown to be

accompanied by a spark of high culture elitism and the latter are met by scholarly suspi-

cion towards the innovative heritage industry. Still, it remains difficult to distinguish be-

tween the two strands. This paper postulates that the feature that can make a basic cate-

gorization possible is the primary function of the respective institutions. Be it a tradi-

tional museum, an outdoor museum or a living-history farm, a Civil War battlefield,

public re-enactments of famous battles, (living-)history TV programs, or a history

theme park, the primary decision of whether to provide education or entertainment in-

fluences the mediation strategies, settings and experiences offered and in some cases the

memory etiquette expected and enforced. As has become apparent, the categories are

never clear-cut or easily distinguishable. They constantly influence each other and are

constantly influenced by the expectations of the visitors. Therefore, raising the consum-

ers’ general awareness of the presentation mechanisms throughout the entire heritage

industry appears more important than to strive for a classification into right and wrong

productions.

Another crucial point that has been exemplified by the analyzed controversy is the

significance of public concerns over national heritage, which rise to the surface time and

again. Any project that deals with cultural memory in the form of memotainment needs

to be controversially dissected. Public fears and animosities, whether voiced by scholars

or laypeople, need to be taken into careful consideration without allowing them to halt

entire projects. In combination with opinions of neutral intermediaries, such dialogues

can allow for constructive changes and developments of proposed memotainment of-

fers. In general, the contingency of a nation’s past, the exposure of cultural power struc-

tures, the selective points of view of exhibitions and of their visitors, or the disneyfica-

tion of certain offers need to become visible and need to be openly communicated. In

this way, the diversity and variety of cultural memories, whether primarily entertaining

or primarily educational, allow for the stabilization of culturally specific identities.

On a final note, DA’s chosen medium deserves more academic attention in the field

of American cultural studies. The American cultural analyst Margaret King (2002: 2)

has criticized the fact that theme parks are “widely appreciated and supported by the

85

public but not well understood at an intellectual level.” Thus, theme parks in general

should be more widely acknowledged as vehicles to understanding American cultural

memory and identity. Further examples, in- and outside of the Disney context, could re-

veal their current roles as “keystones to understanding the American mind” and their

positions “at the heart of American civilization” (ibid: 14). Future studies need to con-

sider the central place of theme parks in the network of cultural memory offers and their

manner of oscillating between pure entertainment and the consequential communication

of cultural values and cultural heritage or memory. The case of DA has demonstrated

that concerns for the latter are influenced by nation-bound characteristics, while the un-

derlying controversies apply universally. The analysis has further assembled the aspects

that will most likely reappear whenever and wherever a collectively remembered past is

conflated with an entertainment approach. It would now be crucial to establish more ef-

fective communication channels between the opposing parties of such projects, so that

they could understand and profit from each other instead of engaging in another point-

less round of the ‘memory wars’.

86

Appendix

Figure 1: Map of the intended construction area of Disney’s America near Haymarket, Virginia

‹http://www.disneydrawingboard.com/DA%20Haymarket/DAHaymarket.html› (09/11/2015)

87

Figures two to fourteen are taken from the official promotional brochure of Disney’s America, which was published by the Walt Disney Company in November 1993. A copy of the original brochure has been obtained by the author of this thesis.

Figure 2: Cover page of the official promotional brochure for Disney’s America showing a piece of

concept art for the We the People territory

88

Figure 3: Introduction into the theme park plans for Disney’s America

89

Figure 4: An address to the local population through texts concerning the issues of location, envi-

ronmental sensitivity, transportation and economic benefits

90

Figure 5: Description of the overall vision for Disney’s America and special events to be hosted in

the park

91

Figure 6: Descriptions of Crossroads USA and

Presidents’ Square, plus the extra notifi-

cation concerning hotel accommoda-

tions inside the park

Figure 7: Descriptions of Native America and

Civil War Fort

Figure 8: Descriptions of We the People, Enter-

prise and Victory Field

Figure 9: Descriptions of State Fair and Family

Farm

92

Figure 10: Conceptual site plan of the Disney’s America park

93

Figure 11: Concept art for Crossroads USA, the

entrance area of Disney’s America

Figure 12: Concept art for the Lewis and Clark

Expedition ride in Disney’s America’s

the Native America territory

Figure 13: Concept art for Disney’s America’s

the territory of Victory Field

Figure 14: Concept art for the rollercoaster In-

dustrial Revolution in the territory of

Enterprise

94

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i

Nachbauen, nachspielen, nachfühlen – Erinnerung mit Unterhaltungswert?

Jede Gesellschaft vergewissert sich ihrer selbst über den Pfad der Erinnerung. Sich an

Vergangenes zu erinnern bedeutet, sich eine Identität zu schaffen: Ich bin so, weil ich

durch Vergangenes so geworden bin. Dadurch entsteht eine Verknüpfung zwischen

Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft, die dem einzelnen Menschen oder der Gruppe

die Sicherheit eines bedeutungsvollen Daseins vermittelt. Dieses Gedächtnis funktio-

niert nicht nur auf der Ebene des Individuums, sondern auch auf der Ebene sozialer

Gruppen. Es handelt sich hierbei um die kollektive Erinnerung, welche seit dem Beginn

des memory boom in den 1980er Jahren in der fachübergreifenden Wissenschaft ein

immer größeres Interesse erfährt. Im Zuge dessen wird immer wieder auf die Verände-

rung der Beziehung der Menschen zu ihrer Vergangenheit eingegangen. Der anhaltend

schnelle Wandel in unserer Gesellschaft beeinflusst demnach auch ihren Umgang mit

den zugeordneten und ausgewählten Wurzeln.

Die Überlegungen des französischen Soziologen Maurice Halbwachs legten bereits

in den 1920er Jahren den Grundstein für Forschungen zu sozialen Gedächtnissen. Dar-

auf aufbauend entwickelte der französische Historiker Pierre Nora sein Konzepts der

lieux de mémoire – im Deutschen meist mit Erinnerungsorte übersetzt – die generell als

Kondensationen von kulturell Erinnertem zu verstehen sind. Der Begriff ist nicht aus-

schließlich auf tatsächlich begehbare Orte anzuwenden, sondern bezieht sich auch auf

Artefakte, Zeremonien, Schriftstücke, Flaggen, Liedgut, etc, die jeweils mit einer über-

geordneten und verankernden Bedeutung für die jeweilige Gesellschaft ausgestattet sind

bzw. werden. Für die deutschen Wissenschaftler Jan und Aleida Assmann sind die

Erinnerungsorte Teil des kulturellen Gedächtnisses einer Gesellschaft. Ihre theoreti-

schen Überlegungen unterscheiden zwischen dem kulturellen Gedächtnis und der Ge-

schichte. Ersteres bezieht sich auf die selektiv ausgewählten, immer über externe Me-

dien vermittelten und über mehrere Generationen erinnerten Vergangenheiten, während

letztere die sich stets ausdehnende, unverurteilte und akademisch rekonstruierte Ver-

gangenheit beschreibt. Assmann und Assmann erläutern weiterhin ausführlich die ein-

gangs beschriebene enge Verflechtung von Erinnerung und Identität.

Die vorliegende Masterarbeit befasst sich mit der Vermittlung des kulturellen Ge-

dächtnisses der Vereinigten Staaten von Amerika durch das prototypische Unterhal-

tungsmedium eines Disney Themenparks. Sie befasst sich mit den Ursachen der Ableh-

nung, die diese Form des Erinnerns, das von der Verfasserin benannte Memotainment,

ii

hervorrief bzw. -ruft. Die Analyse bezieht sich auf ein Beispiel aus dem Jahr 1994 als

die Walt Disney Company ihre Pläne für den historischen Themenpark Disney’s Ameri-

ca (DA), der im Bundesstaat Virginia entstehen sollte, öffentlich bekannt gab. Der Park

sollte Erinnerungsorte des amerikanischen kulturellen Gedächtnisses bündeln und auf

unterhaltsame Weise an seine Besucher vermitteln. Die Pläne für diese Art der Vermitt-

lung von kultureller Erinnerung trafen auf heftigen, landesweiten Widerstand von Histo-

rikern, Journalisten und Denkmalschützern. Anstatt als die von Disney erhoffte Ergän-

zung und Belebung des höchst bedeutenden Wirtschaftszweiges der Tourismusindustrie

empfunden zu werden, wurden Disney und DA auf lokaler und nationaler Ebene regel-

recht bekämpft. Besonders die Nähe des geplanten Parks zu dem Bürgerkriegsschlacht-

feld von Manassas spielte hierbei eine entscheidende Rolle. Die Fallstudie ermittelt,

welche Faktoren dazu führten, dass die unterhaltende kulturelle Erinnerung des The-

menparks als eine direkte Bedrohung der kulturellen Erinnerung anderer, auf Bildung

ausgerichteter Angebote angesehen wurde. Hierbei wird ein besonderes Augenmerk auf

Disneys Anteil an dieser Ablehnung gelegt, dessen öffentlich gepflegtes Image als Un-

terhaltungsriese und zusätzlicher Ruf als prototypischer Vertreter der Konsumindustrie

einen hohen Anteil am letztendlichen Scheitern des Projekts hatten.

Die Gründe für die Kontroverse um DA können aufgrund von Disneys Stellung als

Archetyp des Themenparks bzw. der gesamten Unterhaltungsbranche als eine Art

Schablone für bestehende oder nachfolgende Konflikte im Bereich des heritage tourism

gelten. Die Analyse des Disney Projekts hilft dabei, die Grundlagen der Argumentatio-

nen von Befürwortern und Gegnern verschiedener Arten von Memotainment-Angeboten

zu verstehen und zu hinterfragen und dadurch Möglichkeiten zu konstruktiveren Dialo-

gen zwischen Befürwortern und Gegner zu eröffnen. Sie markiert einen Ausgangspunkt,

von dem aus die komplexen Zusammenhänge innerhalb des touristischen Wirtschafts-

zweiges und die Verbindung von universell gültigen Problematiken und gesellschafts-

spezifischen Umgängen mit kulturellem Gedächtnis offengelegt werden können.

Gleichzeitig zeigt diese Arbeit durchgehend auf, wie vielschichtig die Angebote zur

Vermittlung von kultureller Erinnerung sind. Es ist daher nahezu unmöglich, eine Ein-

teilung in rein bildende und ausschließlich unterhaltende Angebote vorzunehmen – eine

Einteilung, die von Vertretern einiger hochkultureller Institutionen erwünscht scheint.

Stattdessen ist eine konstante Vermischung und Überschneidung von Funktionen zu be-

obachten, die eine wertende Klassifizierung in kulturell brauchbare oder aufgrund von

Unterhaltungsansätzen abzulehnende Angebote ausschließt. Ähnlichkeiten zwischen

iii

dem von Disney vorgestellten Ansatz und den Präsentationen verschiedener primär bil-

dender Institutionen erinnern zudem an die unbedingte Notwendigkeit sich stets der

Konstruiertheit und Kontingenz jeglicher kultureller Erinnerung bewusst zu sein, ohne

ihr jedoch die notwendige identitätsbildende Funktion abzusprechen.

Es zeigt sich, dass die Ablehnung von DA vor allem in der Definition des Parks als

primär unterhaltendes Angebot begründet lag. Diese übergeordnete Funktion von DA

ergab sich als logische Konsequenz des gewählten Mediums. Themenparks, eine thema-

tisierte Form des Freizeitparks, sind popkulturelle Unterhaltungsmedien. Die Elemente

eines Themenparks sind stets darauf ausgerichtet die Besucher zu unterhalten und ihnen

eine bunte, sorglose Gegenwelt zu ihrem Alltag zu bieten. Zusätzlich zu der Vermitt-

lungsart hätten auch Disneys beschönigende, harmonisierende, die sogenannte disneyfi-

zierende Erzählweise und das beständige Streben des Wirtschaftskonzerns nach finan-

ziellem Gewinn die Auswahl und Darstellung der kulturellen Erinnerungen des Parks

mitbestimmt.

Die für DA ausgewählten Inhalte aus der amerikanischen Geschichte umfassten

folgende Themenkomplexe: das typisierte Kleinstadtleben im 19. Jahrhundert, die Prä-

sidenten des Landes, die Ureinwohner des Kontinents, den amerikanischen Bürgerkrieg,

das Landleben und die Vergnügungsmärkte der ersten Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts, die

industrielle Revolution, die militärischen Erfolge im Zweiten Weltkrieg, sowie die Er-

lebnisse amerikanischer Einwanderer. Diese Themen sollten eine kaleidoskopische

Sicht auf die amerikanische Vergangenheit bilden, so genannt, da die in einem Kaleido-

skop erzeugten Bilder ausnahmslos harmonisch und angenehm erscheinen. Die einzel-

nen Elemente des Musters, mit definierten Kanten und Farben, tragen dazu bei nahezu

verzaubernde Gesamtornamente zu erzeugen. Da jedes Element des Gesamtbildes auf

diese Weise von Bedeutung ist, sich jedoch das Muster erst im Weitblick zeigt, gab es

auch in DA eine jenes Muster erzeugende Komponente. Die ausgewählten Gedächtnis-

orte sollten durch eine dem Park zugrundeliegende Handlung miteinander verbunden

werden und so zu dem allumspannenden, Heiterkeit erzeugenden Bild kombiniert wer-

den. Dieser plot hätte sich auf die fortwährende Bestätigung der amerikanischen kultu-

rellen Identität bezogen, die durch die besondere Darstellung der Auswahl aus dem kul-

turellen Gedächtnis erzeugt worden wäre.

Es zeigt sich, dass bei der Vermittlung spezifisch U.S.-amerikanische Erinne-

rungsmechanismen eine Rolle gespielt hätten. Besonderer Einfluss ging hierbei von drei

Eigenheiten aus: dem American exceptionalism, der kulturell weiterhin einflussreichen

iv

Überzeugung, dass die amerikanische Nation eine herausragende politische, militärische

und gesellschaftliche Stellung in der Welt einnimmt; dem Konzept der civil religion, ei-

ner Übertragung religiöser Denk- und Handlungsmuster auf nichtkirchliche Strukturen

des Staates, sowie schließlich von der Tatsache, dass amerikanische Erinnerung und

damit Identität von einer Wechselwirkung aus nostalgischem Zurückblicken und gleich-

zeitigem Streben nach Fortschritt bestimmt sind. In den einzelnen Themenbereichen

von DA sollte eine patriotisch überformte Identität zusammengefasst präsentiert und an

die Besucher weitergeleitet werden. Die Handlung des Parks was somit darauf ausge-

richtet, mit der Betrachtung und dem körperlichen bzw. mentalen Erleben eines jeden

Elements des kaleidoskopischen kulturellen Gedächtnisses das Gesamtbild des ‚besten

Landes’ zu erzeugen, dessen Bürger ihrer Selbst, ihrer amerikanischen Identität, rück-

versichert werden.

Die stark glorifizierende und durchaus zu wenig hinterfragende Grundrichtung der

ausgewählten und vermittelten Ereignisse, Persönlichkeiten und Entwicklungen hatte

somit großen Anteil an der konsequenten Ablehnung des Memotainment-Angebots.

Diese wurde jedoch zusätzlich durch andere Aspekte verstärkt, die sich aus den gewähl-

ten Vermittlungsstrategien und dem Umgang der Parkgäste mit denselben ergeben hät-

ten. Dass Disneys Art der Vermittlung von kulturellem Gedächtnis und daran gebunde-

ner kultureller Identität eine solche Ablehnung erfuhr, lag auch an den naheliegenden

Vergleichen mit bildungsorientierten Angeboten in der Umgebung, wie zum Beispiel

mit dem nahen Manassas-Schlachtfeld. Dieses wäre laut den Gegner durch den Park

zerstört worden und eignete sich daher um den ‚richtigen’, ernsteren Umgang mit natio-

naler Erinnerung zu demonstrieren und Disneys Unterhaltungsangebote als aus ihrer

Sicht potenziell destruktiv zu enttarnen. Die Analyse brachte hervor, dass die Zurück-

weisung von DAs Memotainment von den folgenden Eigenschaften und Faktoren aus-

ging.

Mehrere Areale des Parks wären darauf ausgelegt gewesen ein spirituelles Erlebnis

für die Besucher zu erzeugen. Hierbei hätte eine quasi-religiöse Erfahrung im Mittel-

punkt des jeweiligen Aspekts der kulturellen Erinnerung gestanden, die sich vor dem

Hintergrund der amerikanischen civil religion einordnen lässt. Beispielsweise wäre den

als Roboter ‚wiederbelebten’ Präsidenten die Rolle Geistlicher oder sogar Heiliger zu-

gewiesen worden, welche die amerikanische Gemeinde durch chaotische Entwicklun-

gen führten. Gleichermaßen wäre die Spiritualität von konkreten Orten wie dem

Schlachtfeld oder der Einwandererstation auf Ellis Island verwendet worden, um über

v

die Empfindung der besonderen Verbindung zu den Orten ihre Bedeutung für das indi-

viduelle und kollektive ‚Ich’ des amerikanischen Bürgers herzustellen und zu bestäti-

gen. Die Entrüstung der Opposition basierte auf der nachgestellten und nachgebauten

Natur dieser Orte. Im Freizeitpark wären sie als Rekonstruktionen und somit nur als

symbolische Verweise auf das ‚Echte’ außerhalb der Parkwelt erschienen. Solche

Nachbauten würden jedoch nicht dieselben spirituellen oder gar religiösen Gefühlsre-

gungen auslösen können wie die Originale und daher auch ein verzerrtes Bild der Erin-

nerung und Identität produzieren.

Eine ähnliche Argumentation lässt die parkintern produzierte Summe an Sinneser-

fahrungen als Kritikpunkt erscheinen. Besonders hervorzuheben sind hier die re-

enactments der Bürgerkriegsschlachten und die living-history-Angebote auf der rekon-

struierten amerikanischen Farm. Beide Aufführungsarten sind ein ‚Nachspielen’, das

auf der Auflösung zeitlicher Barrieren basiert und ein Zurückversetzen in die historische

Zeit suggeriert. Der Besucher hätte mit all seinen Sinnen Erfahrungen aufgenommen,

die sowohl Wohlgefallen, als auch Faszinationen ausgelöst und die vermittelte, kulturel-

le Erinnerung dadurch gebunden hätten. Die aktive Teilnahme an der gespielten Ver-

gangenheit hätte zudem eine Nähe zwischen dem vergangenen Ereignis und der Le-

benswelt vorgetäuscht. Disneys Produktionen waren und sind gemeinhin als nahezu per-

fekt einzustufen. Diese Möglichkeit der perfekten Illusion birgt die Gefahr die Grenzen

des Wirklichen und der Fantasie verschwimmen zu lassen. Es entstand im Fall von DA

die Angst, dass dadurch eine nostalgisch beschönigte und selektiv gesäuberte Unterhal-

tungsversion den Platz der wissenschaftlich erforschten Vergangenheit einnehmen

könnte – die ausgesuchte Illusion als Wirklichkeit.

Schließlich wird der Unterschied zwischen den geltenden, sozial formierten und

kontrollierten Erinnerungspraktiken eines Bürgerkriegsschlachtfelds und den Erlebnis-

praktiken in einem historisch thematisierten Freizeitpark als ein Faktor identifiziert, der

die kulturelle Erinnerung nicht kompatibel mit Unterhaltungsangeboten werden lassen

kann. Die Etikette erlaubt es Erinnerungsorten sich von ihrer Umgebung abzugrenzen

und so überhaupt erst als solch ein Ort definiert zu werden. Ein Schlachtfeld wird auf

diese Weise zu einer introvertierten Stätte leisen und nachdenklichen Gedenkens. Es ba-

siert auf der mentale Verknüpfung des eignen Daseins mit der Bedeutung des abge-

schlossenen Ereignisses und auf der Ehrerbietung vor den Opfern, die für den jetzigen

Erfolg erbracht werden mussten. DA als extrovertierter Themenpark wäre jedoch durch

Ausgelassenheit und Übermut gekennzeichnet gewesen. Es hätte seinen Besuchern die

vi

Auszeit von Alltagssorgen versprochen und ihm garantierten Spaß geboten. An die Stel-

le von Ehrerbietung wäre die Suche nach Hochgefühlen getreten. Hierin zeigt sich die

Unterteilung in ‚heilige’ und weltlich profane Orte. Diese Diskrepanz der Erinnerungs-

praktiken hätte sich kaum überwinden lassen und die primäre Funktion der jeweiligen

Stätten hätte sich somit auch auf ihre Benutzung ausgewirkt. Es zeigt sich, dass Erinne-

rung jederzeit nur über den Erinnernden, in der kulturellen Erinnerung nur über das Kol-

lektiv, wirkmächtig und mit nachhaltiger Bedeutung versehen wird.

Alle untersuchten Faktoren, die kulturelle Erinnerung und populäre Unterhaltung

als unvereinbar erscheinen lassen, sind mit der Vorstellung von Authentizität verbun-

den. Es zeigt sich jedoch, dass dieser Begriff nicht eindeutig definierbar ist und sich in

verschiedenen Facetten zeigt. Zum einen gibt es die konventionelle Auffassung von Au-

thentizität, die sich auf das Original, das wirklich Geschehene oder auf historisch ver-

bürgte Orte eines Ereignisses bezieht. Zu nennen wäre abermals das authentische

Schlachtfeld und die dadurch erzeugten authentischen Verbindungen zur bedeutsamen

Vergangenheit. Dem gegenüber steht die existenzielle Authentizität, die sich dadurch

auszeichnet, dass sich ein als authentisch empfundenes Gefühl einstellt. Insbesondere

die Tourismusbranche kann auf diese Weise durch begehbare und berührbare Nachbau-

ten und durch als authentisch eingestufte Aufführungen ein Nachfühlen erzeugen, das

für den Besucher den Kontakt mit den konventionell ‚echten’ Stätten ersetzen kann. In

diese Überlegung fließt demnach auch der Einfluss der Konsumenten der kulturellen Er-

innerung ein, da sie die als authentischen empfundenen Orte auswählen und so ihren

Fortbestand sichern. Die Betrachtung der Branche als Wirtschaftszweig bringt zudem

die Erkenntnis, dass die Erwartungen der Besucher eine nicht zu unterschätzende Rolle

in der Vermittlung von Inhalten des kollektiven Gedächtnisses spielen. Die Anbieter

von Gedächtnisorten sind stets damit konfrontiert den Erwartungen der Besucher Raum

zu bieten, ihre Angebote attraktiv zu gestalten und dadurch rentabel zu wirtschaften. Es

sei jedoch darauf hingewiesen, dass Erwartungen an die Darstellung von Erinnerungen

auch von kritischer Natur sein können und es sich daher nicht um ein ‚Beschönigungs-

Diktat’ von Seiten des Konsumenten handeln muss.

Im Fall von DA führten das die Erinnerung produzierende Unternehmen (die Walt

Disney Company), sein ausgewähltes Medium (der Themenpark) und die sich daraus

ergebende primäre Funktion (Unterhaltung) zur Ablehnung des geplanten Projekts. Die

Zurückweisung beruhte auf den entstehenden Vermittlungspraktiken (der Erzeugung

spiritueller Empfindungen und existentiell authentischer Sinneserfahrungen) und der

vii

Art der tolerierten, beziehungsweise auferlegten Erinnerungspraktiken. Die vorliegende

Arbeit reiht sich nicht in die Kritik an Disneys Vorschlag zur Vermittlung von Kollek-

tiverinnerungen ein. Auch ein Themenpark wie DA hätte in seiner Funktion zur Ver-

mittlung und Stabilisierung der amerikanischen kulturellen Erinnerung und Identität

beigetragen. Ein breitgefächertes Spektrum verschiedener Angebote erscheint allgemein

am ehesten in der Lage ein rein kaleidoskopisches Vergangenheitsbild zu verhindern. In

der Fortführung dieser Masterarbeit und zur Bestätigung der Analyseergebnisse würde

sich die Untersuchung weiterer, bestenfalls bestehender Memotainment-Angebote und

der damit verbundenen Kontroversen anschließen. Hierfür kämen sowohl U.S.-

amerikanische, als auch Projekte anderer Nationalitäten und Kulturkreise in Frage, die

zur Verfeinerung der Untersuchung von allgemeinen und kulturspezifischen Ableh-

nungsargumentation beitragen würden.

Erklärung

Hiermit erkläre ich, dass ich die vorliegende Arbeit selbstständig und ohne fremde Hilfe

angefertigt und keine anderen als die angegebenen Quellen und Hilfsmittel verwendet

habe.

Die eingereichte schriftliche Fassung der Arbeit entspricht der auf dem elektronischen

Speichermedium.

Weiterhin versichere ich, dass diese Arbeit noch nicht als Abschlussarbeit an anderer

Stelle vorgelegen hat.

Datum Unterschrift