What is the purpose of a book about a museum? This question sprang to mind as I read James Hamilton’s The British Museum: Storehouse of Civilisations, because I was baffled by it. It could have been a great opportunity to add to existing histories and help readers think about the present day British Museum. Instead it presents a hackneyed and awkwardly written history that does its readers and the British Museum a huge disservice.
The British Museum publishes two books on its history: Marjorie Caygill’s The History of the British Museum, and David Wilson’s The British Museum: A History. Unsurprisingly, neither tackles the more difficult subjects relating to the Museum, such as the colonial origins of its collections or governance or sponsorship. Unfortunately, Hamilton’s account is equally sanitised. It is notable that the book is part of a series on “the history of civilisation”, a tone so in keeping with the British Museum’s self-image it might explain the lack of critique.
In fact, it’s hard to find anything new in Hamilton’s history. Like the other books, it takes a chronological approach, starting with Hans Sloane’s Will. Along the way the usual events and themes in the British Museum’s history are described: Montague House, not-so-public access, the King’s Library, the new building, the addition of departments, the dispersal of its collections, the British Library… Chronology is a difficult structure: it’s hard to know where to end, or to draw a conclusion about on-going events. Hamilton draws the main storyline to a close with the opening of the British Library. That’s surprising because the late twentieth century saw a period of turmoil in the Museum that related directly to its management and governance in the preceding centuries. Those events had a huge impact on the British Museum of today, so it seems strange not to mention them.
Drawing the history to an end in the early 1970s also means there’s no discussion of Neil MacGregor signing the Declaration of the Importance and Value of Universal Museums, which in effect doubled down on the British Museum’s previous refusals to repatriate stolen objects. It’s hard to discuss the British Museum without mentioning its colonial origins and present day responses to them, yet where Hamilton does mention this it is disingenuous, to put it mildly. Hans Sloane’s connection to slavery is described as income “from plantations his wife had inherited” (p16), rather than his active complicity as outlined in James Delbourgo’s biography. Similarly, in the nineteenth century artefacts “arrive” because museums are “institutions of suction, drawing stuff towards them” (p 52), rather than being active participants in collecting stolen objects. Hamilton acknowledges the dispute over the Parthenon marbles, but later appears to dismiss concern about them while simultaneously sighing about protests over oil company sponsorship.
The lack of original content is exacerbated by Hamilton’s uneven style, which veers from pretentious (e.g. Sloane’s “courageous embarkation on dangerous travel expressed itself multifariously” (p 16)), to sensationalist (Sloane’s Will contained a “killer demand” that made “hostages” of the trustees (p24)). The book is peppered with faux-academic tropes including footnotes *and* endnotes. There are appendices containing an odd selection of information, but very few primary sources. A lack of precision gives rise to some ambiguities, such as the date the Natural History Museum came into being.
The British Museum is a flawed institution, albeit one that has a significant role in the past and present of museums. A book that discusses its history, warts and all, and places it in context of contemporary discussions about museums could enable everyone to have a more informed discussion about its future. This book is not it.
The British Museum: Storehouse of Civilisations by James Hamilton. Published by Head of Zeus imprint, Browns Books for Students. ISBN 978-1786691835
Rachel Souhami 