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Question 57·Hard·Central Ideas and Details

The following text is from a 2022 essay by historian Lydia Perez about the value of personal diaries in reconstructing historical events.

When I sift through the battered diaries of soldiers, mill workers, or provincial schoolteachers, I rarely find tidy chronologies. Instead, I encounter gaps, corrections squeezed between lines, and emotions that leak through inconsistent handwriting. These imperfections cause some scholars to dismiss diaries as unreliable, even dangerously misleading. Yet precisely because diaries are unruly, they illuminate what polished government circulars and newspaper editorials suppress: the quiver of uncertainty on the day before a strike, the grudging compassion a conscript feels for an enemy prisoner, the petty grievances that accumulate into political rage.

To be sure, a diarist may misremember a date or exaggerate a hardship. But every factual slip is itself a clue, revealing the pressures that mold memory. When one woman writes that bread prices tripled overnight—though municipal ledgers show a gradual rise—she is not lying so much as encoding how sudden deprivation felt in her kitchen. Such distortions, read collectively, chart the emotional weather of an era. Only by sifting these landscapes of feeling alongside official statistics can historians approach a rounded understanding of the past.

Which choice best states the main idea of the text?