In Bath, England for a while in the seventies you really weren't anybody if you were not the reincarnation of a Cathar. Or Richard III, of course: I personally have known three of those, all alive at present as far as I know.
Fetishisation of a culture someone never knew because they were born a few generations too late, and can never know because they were born in the wrong era and continent, possibly doesn't help anyone get on with their real life day to day in the place where they were actually born? The country I grew up in no longer exists, and it is people trying to hark back to it that has caused all the blasted trouble where I am here and now.
I have at least sixteen different nationalities in my ancestry, some of which no longer exist as nations, and if I let it have any importance to me I would probably develop a multiply split personality. Many of the nationalities were tribally incompatible, too, like German and Jewish, Irish and English, Scots and Danes, Flemish and let's face it practically anyone else but especially Nederlanders. (And let's not start worrying about the Walloons, we'd be here all week.) Much easier just to be English, and not try to be Special for spurious reasons.