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Historical Fiction

Historical Fiction Has Its Own Set of Rules

Several bloggers have chosen to write about historical fiction lately.  I'm not sure why -- perhaps it has to do with the promise of spring. In any event, I can't let the discussion pass without reviewing some of my rules for writing historical fiction. They may not apply to all writers, but they guide me in the choices I make and the kinds of research I do.

Be true to the time period. Don’t ever guess at the order in which events took place. Double-check dates and times so that you don’t run a chance of turning a cause into an effect. There’s a difference between saying that a man shot a dog because the dog attacked him, or that the dog attacked the man who tried to shoot him. In the first instance, we’re dealing with a vicious dog; in the second, the man may be the one who is vicious.

If your story is about people who live in a particular time period, be sure you know the appropriate details of dress, food availability, household furnishings, modes of transportation, and social customs of the period. Also check details of local vegetation, climate, and wildlife habitats. Don’t let your native of Oklahoma pull a salmon out of the local river.
If your story also involves actual political or military events, your responsibilities multiply. Your descriptions and discussions must reflect the facts as they were known at the time. Don’t let hindsight lead you astray here. We now know that a pregnant woman who takes the drug thalidomide runs a grave risk of birth defects in her unborn child, but the doctors who prescribed the drug to cure morning sickness back in the 50s did not. Don’t blame someone for lack of knowledge if that knowledge was unavailable at the time.
 
Be true to your story. Most historians hate playing “what if” with history. No matter how many alternative universes you may describe, it won’t change the one in which your events actually took place. What if Germany had won World War II? Maybe Hitler would have managed to turn the entire world population into blond, blue-eyed Aryans. Maybe he would have turned out to be a really nice guy whose genetic experiments resulted in the cure of cancer and other life-threatening diseases. Or maybe he would have been hit by a bus, and we would have discovered that we didn’t need to fight that war after all. Now we’re talking fantasy, not history. And while fantasy may be amusing, it doesn’t increase anyone’s understanding of anything.
 
Don’t change the facts to suit your story. Change your story to make it fit the facts. The people who read your historical fiction may be people who know the period well. Or, if they don’t know much about the history, they are probably hoping to learn something from your story. It’s foolish to try to hoodwink readers of the first type, because they will dismiss you as clueless. It’s unkind to mislead readers of the second type, because you will be betraying their trust. Either way, you will lose readers, not gain them.
 
Most important, be true to your character. If you are writing about a real person, you owe it to yourself and to her to find out as much as possible about her. Don’t exaggerate her education or experiences. Work with her own life to make her struggles more understandable. Don’t rely solely on gossip or what others thought about the character. Ask what she thought about herself. That’s why diaries and personal letters are helpful when you are trying to flesh out a character.
Judge the characters in your story only as you could have judged them in person. You must not criticize someone who made a well-considered decision simply because it turned out badly. You need to look beneath the result to discover the intention. Don’t blame Lincoln for not emancipating the slaves before you can judge his efforts. Before you judge a slave-owner, you must at least try to understand why he needed to have slaves in the first place. Only then can you start to examine his treatment of those slaves.

If  you want to read more, these sections come from The Second Mouse Gets the Cheese, now available in a Kindle edition for only $2.99.

Why Historians Should Write Fiction

Today and all of next week will be filled with page proofs and pecan tarts, but for those of you who have finished  your Christmas preparations, graded all your exams, and finished writing and editing your latest book, I'll be passing along some articles that I have found particularly helpful.  Most come from last month's virtual conference, "Novel Approaches."  To start it off, here's an important piece by Ian Mortimer.

“Your book reads like a novel,” is a comment that popular historians often hear. When said by a general reader, it is a compliment: an acknowledgement of the fluency of the writing and a compelling story. If a historian uses those same words, however, it is an insult. It means ‘you cannot be trusted on your facts’. Hence the title of this piece is bound to infuriate every reader of this journal, for it implies that historians should tell lies. After all, that is what novelists do, isn’t it? Make it all up if they don’t know the facts?

"I ought to explain at the outset that I am a novelist (James Forrester) as well as a historian (Ian Mortimer), and I write history for the mass market as well as scholarly articles. As a novelist, I tell lies. Whoppers. All historical novelists do. In my case, I have historical characters like Sir William Cecil and Francis Walsingham say and do things that they never really said or did. I make people die from causes that they did not die of, use modern langauge in their speech, and I change people’s names. As a historian, I do not tell lies. I scrupulously note primary and secondary sources. However, I have learned a great deal about history from writing historical fiction. And it is because of this learning experience that I want to recommend it."


History Students Look at Historical Fiction

Last spring semester, a history professor at my old college used my book, Beyond All  Price, as a a reading assignment in a class for 4th-year history majors. I was slightly disappointed, although not surprised, to learn that  while the students enjoyed the story, they felt it was somehow "out of place" in an academic setting. After all, the faculty had just spend the better part of four years teaching them to document their papers and to be sure of their facts. They were conditioned to regard historical fiction with skepticism, and the fact that this particular book had been written by an emerita member of their own faculty did not help much. In light of that experience, I found the following article from the "Novel Approaches" website to be quite interesting. I particularly like the statement at the end of the article by a student who recognized that the question was only a problem within a school setting.

ARTICLE
Lucinda Byatt

I asked my history class at the Open Studies department of Edinburgh University, who have been attending a course with the somewhat provocative title ‘Rome Caput Mundi: Curia, Cardinals and Courtesans 1300 to 1590’, to give me their thoughts on historical fiction.  More particularly I wanted to know what they thought about including it on the course reading list.

The answers I received covered the full range of opinion: clearly some were horrified by the idea while others possibly thought my questionnaire a waste of time, or had more pressing engagements at four o’clock in the afternoon.  Presumably those motives, and the fact that I had premised my request by saying I would not be lying in wait for them after class, accounted for the absence of answers from about half the class. However, we had a lively discussion before class ended and some of the written answers were enlightening.

Yes, historical fiction was a useful way of getting into the atmosphere of the time, or ‘setting the scene’, as well as revealing ‘the way of living, perhaps indeed the ways of thinking.’  Many agreed that it offered an excellent quick introduction to the dramatis personae of any given period. Although at least one person felt that a greater danger was posed by television historical series and films: an interesting point because they were content to rely on an author’s written interpretation and their own imagination while reading, but not on the visual, ‘less reliable’ interpretation in films and TV. 
Some gave examples: Dorothy Dunnett, an Edinburgh writer, was a favourite for one student who wrote: ‘irrespective of the “romantic” central characters, she leaves her readers very familiar with the geography of mid-15 century Bruges, the relationships between the traders, even how goods were transported. I learned what a “cog” was from her books!’ 

Historical crime was also popular: C.J. Sansom was noted by two or three as having enticed them into history.
One person commented on what she termed ‘cross-over’ books that manage to keep a foot in both camps: she cited John Guy’s ‘jolly good’ biography of Mary Queen of Scots which she was prompted to read following a course she took at the university this summer.  ‘Something by Philippa Gregory or Alison Weir’s book on Katherine Swynford are good cross-overs.’  However, she also added (as did two or three others) that Wolf Hall is ‘unreadable’.   (Someone described it as ‘incredibly tedious’ – but then you can’t please everyone).  However, for academic writers, the ‘revival of well-presented narrative history can be a plus – although it can be at the expense of analysis.’

A difference in the focus between academic history and historical fiction was identified by three people, also because we had been talking about it in the discussion. When talking about whether literary authors and academics learn from other, someone commented that ‘each reinforces the other. Academics tend to concentrate on the elites, while fiction [and he was thinking particularly of Sansom] provides more insight into ordinary life.’   Someone else also commented that ‘fiction can use isolated facts as a source of story and then use conjecture to elaborate on them’ – very true.  The crossover between fact and fiction was also debated: ‘some supposedly academic material, presented as fact, is fiction: i.e. theories of authorship of Shakespeare’s plays.’ 

At least one person noted that our understanding of history, or of any one period, is constantly evolving in the light of new research, and that it is also affected by our changing understanding of our own times.  However, the fact that some historians are turning their hands to historical fiction was generally seen as a money-making wheeze (no harm in that!): ‘Historians write fiction for money, which is fine if they can write good fiction!’  The same person underlined the fact that ‘historical fiction is not correlated to academic history’, adding that ‘fiction should be about people … imaginative and exciting’.

In conclusion, on the question of the popularity of historical fiction and whether it threatens academic history, various people stressed the importance of understanding where the boundaries are.  I liked the student’s comment that ‘It may be a problem in schools, but not beyond.  No harm in making history accessible, so long as it is accurate.’   This was reinforced by another who wrote that he would read historical fiction as course reading, ‘if I had confidence in the sources – otherwise it’s pure escapism’. Well, that’s the pot of gold at the end of the historical fiction rainbow, isn’t it?


Lucinda is also Features Editor for Historical Novels Review, the quarterly magazine published by the Historical Novel Society.

New Books and Older Ones

I'm in the midst of a busy day. Proofs have arrived, asking me to make decisions about my new book cover and its interior layouts. Here's the cover I've chosen.  Layouts will take a bit more work. These are exciting days, and I'm trying not to push ahead too fast. The temptation is to get the book out as soon as possible to catch the holiday shopping frenzy that is sure to erupt as soon as everyone has finished eating turkey.  But since I don't want to publish a "turkey" I'm trying to slow down and edit carefully.

In the meantime the IHR Virtual Conference on Historical Fiction is in full swing.  Here's a brief summary of today's events.

There's been a lot going on today.  Starting with Elizabeth Chadwick's research into why readers of historical fiction enjoy the genre conversation moved onto questions of why academic history is perceived to not be able to recreate the human condition adequately.  We then heard from Justin Champion, Tracey Loughran and Peter Straus.  In these papers, amongst much else, the issue of e-book readers came up and in other conversations the rise of the internet was discussed as revolutionising the communication and interaction between author and reader.  

It seems that historical fiction is regarded as a popular form of writing and reading about the past, leaving academic history failing somewhat in its targets for impact!  However, the inter-relationship of the two are time and again shown to be strong - one could not survive without the other.  I suspect we'll return to that topic tomorrow as we look at the differences and similarities between historical fiction and academic history.

Elsewhere, Jenny Benham's book review focused on Swedish historical fiction is a gentle and much welcome reminder that in this conference so far we have largely talked about British and perhaps a little American historical fiction.  What about elsewhere?  It would be great to see if anyone else has any views on non-English historical fiction!


Novel Approachs


This week, the Institute for Historical Research in London presents its first virtual conference for writers of historical fiction. (Click on the image above to connect to the conference.) The organizers write: "The relationship and interaction between academic history and historical fiction is a complex one. Our speakers at the conference held last week in London were fantastic in bringing out the issues, stresses and complexities in that relationship. We think that comes through in the myriad resources that we will be bringing to you over the course of the next five days. Not only will we be releasing podcasts from that conference for you to listen to and debate but we will also bring you reviews, articles, bibliogaphies and various opinion pieces."

As you can imagine, I'm glued to my computer, listening to podcasts and reading book reviews. The resources are so rich that i suspect no one will be able to absorb everything said here in the next five days, but i'll try to pass on to you some small tidbits that will at least give you the flavor of the whole. This morning the focus seems to be on examples of the best historical fiction -- why it appealed to readers and how iot influenced their own writings.  The first one comes from Simon Baker, editor for the Bibliography of British and Irish History.

My first historical novel was Black Arrow awarded, along with The Horses of Petrock, as a primary school prize for, unsurprisingly, history. (I can’t remember why I got The Horses of Petrock). Being ten at the time I was intrigued by the cover of Black Arrow with its Robin Hood figure stretching his bow ready to fire. I’m afraid that the cover continued to intrigue but the book did not, partly as Black Arrow wasn’t about Robin Hood (a childhood hero – too much Errol Flynn and Richard Greene) and partly as it was difficult to read – too much archaic language and too many characters for a ten-year-old with the seemingly endless summer break ahead. I did try to persevere with the book and returned years later when it appeared on a list of literature that I was expected to read for English. Again I gave up because The Day of the Triffids, Brown on Resolution, Treasure Island and The Hobbit seemed, and were, more appealing.

Two weeks of a bed-ridden, childhood illness tempted me once more to read Black Arrow but I became sidetracked by Ben-Hur. I had just seen the film and, still fresh in my mind, it seemed a better prospect than Black Arrow. I gave up on the Prince of Judah – far too much “theeing” and “thouing”. Well I suppose all historical fiction is like that and so returned to Black Arrow only to recover from the illness and put it aside once more.

Rain-drenched camping holidays during my teenage years prompted searches for something, anything to read – Ellis Peters, Georgette Heyer, Agatha Christie  and countless other now forgotten novels found in the games rooms of various camping sites. There seemed less “theeing” and “thouing” in the novels but the books did not feel historical – they portrayed characters that happened to live in a historical period.

And now I read historical fiction for fun and relaxation. I don’t check historical veracity, or get despondent about archaic language, or the improbability of plot developments. I enjoy them. My reading choice of historical fiction is admittedly eclectic and determined by second-hand book shops and friends’ recommendations. Lately I’ve read Karen Maitland’s The Owl Killers – gritty medieval realism; begun the C. J. Sansom series of books about the Tudor lawyer Matthew Shardlake; relished Barbara Ewing’s The Mesmerist – sexual mores and hypnotism is a winning combination; and thoroughly enjoyed Bruce Chatwin’s Utz (perhaps not truly historical but nevertheless set in Cold War Czechoslovakia). I’ve also managed to read and enjoy Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities despite the fact that I’ve struggled with the other works of Dickens. Oh and I still haven’t read Black Arrow.