"Roundheads and Ramblings"
historical thinking
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Posted on Sunday, December 18, 2011 4:59 PM
 A few days ago, my favorite researcher sent me a picture taken in 1863. It showed three women on a small " carte de visite." At the bottom was a handwritten label: Nurses. Hospital No. ?. Summer "63." The picture had been part of an auction held in 2006; it was listed as a rare CDV taken in Nashville. It sold for $720.00.
David had a single stunning question for me: Is the woman on the left Nellie Chase? For those of you who don't recognize the name, Nellie is the heroine of my book, Beyond All Price. She was a teen-age runaway, "married" to a gambling, hard-drinking, cheating musician who was regularly on the run from the law, dragging Nellie with him. To escape his abuse when he wanted her to become the madame of his new brothel, she signed on with a Union regiment as their matron and head nurse. After a year with the Pennsylvania Roundheads, she moved on to other Civil War battlegrounds, ending up in Union-occupied Nashville as matron of Hospital No. 3 in the spring of 1863.
 For years I've been saying with great confidence that only one picture of Nellie existed : this one: It shows Nellie in Beaufort, SC, with the staff of the Roundhead Regiment in March 1862. David and I had both hunted in vain for other pictures of her. I enlisted the help of a librarian in Philadelphia because we knew she had had a CDV taken there. I combed the archives of the Army's Military History Museum. David read every Civil War newspaper he could find. We plundered Google Books. Nothing. No record of her existed beyond this crumpled photo in Carlyle, PA. And now this new question. Could this be her?
I've tried putting the cropped images side by side. Study them for yourself.
  The hairstyles are identical. The faces are rounded ovals with symmetrical features. Both women have noticably sloping shoulders --almost looking as if they have no collarbones. They have full lips but not a wisp of a smile. (I tried running facial recognition software on the two photos, but since one is full face and the other a profile, I could not get a clear hit.)
As for the Nashville picture, we know that Nellie was one of three nurses working in Hospital No. 3 at the time this picture was taken. I've confirmed those facts from published letters that mention her. She was in a supervisory position over the others, which would fit with the image of her reading to the other two.
In a past blog -- and in the new book I have coming out -- I have discussed the difference between a historian and a novelist, and coincidentally, the article I posted yesterday by Ian Mortimer raised the same question. As a historian, I cannot prove that this new image is a picture of Nellie Chase. But as a novelist (who is permitted to tell lies, even whoppers), I can say that this is the Nellie of my imagination.
So what do you think? Is this my Nellie? If you have read the book, is this how you think she might have looked? Does the picture bring her character into clearer focus?
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Posted on Monday, November 14, 2011 10:25 AM
An interesting program on the BBC this morning concerning the writing of history: four historians with new books out discussed the difference between history and fiction (a subject dear to my heart!), the factors that influence history, and the sources of our historical knowledge. Here's a brief summary of their conclusions.
Norman Davies, Vanished Kingdoms: The History of Half-Forgotten Europe, published by Allen Lane. This book makes the case for the selectivity of historical memory. He argues that our present circumstances influence our views of the past. To illustrate his point, his book concentrates on kingdoms and empires that have been forgotten because they did not last. But their demise does not mean that they were not vitally important in their own time. In their place, we now focus on the history of those countries with which we are most familiar today. One example: most medieval historians focus on England, France, and Germany, because we remain involved in their cultures and politics. He claims that the real medieval juggernaut was Alt Clud. Ever heard of it? Me, neither. Guess he has a point!
Peter Englund, The Beauty and the Sorrow: An Intimate History of the First World War, published by Profile Books. This Swedish historian draws his history of the First World War from the intimate lives of ordinary people who were caught up in the conflict. His book does not re-tell a well-known story, and it fairly ignores those powerful individuals whose actions are familiar to us. He uses characters from both sides of the war and emphasizes both the horrors and the amazing acts of courage experienced by otherwise unimportant individuals. His argument strengthens Norman Davies' point that much of history has been forgotten.
Boris Johnson, Johnson’s Life of London: The People Who Made the City That Made the World, published by Harper Press. Johnson is the mayor of London and justifiably proud of the role of his city as one of the great cites of the world. His book discusses well-known London citizens from many historical periods--people who changed London, and thereby the world, because of their talents. The stories he tells are not new or unknown; the virtue of his book is that their re-telling forces us to view history in a new light.
Alison Weir, Mary Boleyn: ‘The Great and Infamous Whore’ , published by Jonathan Cape. Weir has written both history and fiction, but she sees them as clearly separated. She worries that modern world's exposure to movie epics that play fast and loose with history will lead us to blur the line that separates truth and invention. Her current book attempts to take a temptingly colorful historical figure and strip away all the rumors and gossip that helped to create her fictional reputation. (Note the warning quotation marks in her title!).
These authors spoke directly to my own views -- a pleasantly affirmative start to a Monday morning. I can't hope to reach the levels of talent displayed by these writers, but it is comforting to know that they believe in my two guiding principles: (1) I continue to focus on the forgotten characters of history -- Jim McCaskey of my A Scratch with the Rebels, Nellie Chase of Beyond All Price, and Laura Towne and Ellen Murray of The Road to Frogmore. And (2) I continue to believe in the primacy of historical research and the responsibility of a novelist not to sacrifice a historical fact for the sake of a dramatic plot element.
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Posted on Wednesday, November 09, 2011 11:48 AM
One of the questions I struggle with has to do with the boundary lines between fiction and non-fiction. Perhaps because of my academic background, I can argue that no such line exists. "Facts" are elusive and hard to pin down. Many of the things we thought we knew for certain prove to be false. New information emerges to change our views on all sorts of topics. And history? It's only what we think we know about something at any given moment. History changes.
So when does a historical account of a particular event become historical fiction? That's just one of the issues that will be addressed by the Institute for Historical Research when they open their online conference, Novel Approaches, in a couple of weeks. I'll be interested to hear the views of other writers, but before we get into the discussion, I want to get my own position written down. That doesn't mean I think I'm right. I just want a stance from which to begin. So here's an outline of the distinctions i make when I try to label a particular book as fiction or non-fiction. Roughly, it follows the position I established in a panel on this topic at the Military Writers Society of America conference in September.
A history of a particular event, or a biography of a person, must be based on documented evidence. If you tell me that someone said X, I want to see the proof--a letter, an official report, a diary. If you are quoting someone, I want to know where the quote appeared. Just as a scientist might approach new research, I want to be able to duplicate your findings. Now, at this point, most historians are cringing and shaking their heads because they know how very difficult it can be to find such evidence. Still, if you tell me that your story is true, I expect you to be able to prove it. And what you cannot prove, you must omit.
Much of what we casually label as non-fiction or biography should actually be labeled "creative non-fiction." This is a category in which the author relies on fact, insofar as the facts are known. But if there are gaps in the records, if events cannot be determined, then the author is free to speculate or fill in those gaps with the most plausible solution. If I read such a book, I expect to find the author admitting which parts come from his or her creative imagination and which ones are factual in nature. If you check my book, Beyond All Price, you will find at the end a section called "Author's Note," in which I carefully lay out which few characters are products of my imagination. I also discuss how I filled in the gaps in Nellie Chase's life story.
Authors who have used creative non-fiction well include Colleen McCullough, in her series of books on the age of the Caesars, and Sharon Kay Penman in her wonderful books on medieval English rulers and their families. In both cases, I know the authors have done their homework, have read all the pertinent documents, have walked the streets they describe, and consulted the best historical accounts. These authors are writing history, not fiction. Their talent lies in their creative ability to make their historical figures come alive for modern readers.
But what about historical fiction? How does that differ from creative non-fiction? Here's where I draw the line. Historical fiction takes imaginary characters and places them in an accurate historical setting. Le's take just one example. Sharan Newman has extensive academic credentials in medieval history and does her research in some of the world's best-known medieval archives, but her series of historical novels, set in 12th-century France, features a wholly imaginary Jewish girl named Catherine Levendeur. Catherine lives in a historically-accurate world and encounters some real medieval persons. She struggles with the real challenges of her time, but her life and experiences are fictional. That's historical fiction at its best.
What sets historical fiction apart from general fiction or historical fantasy? Consider Diana Gabaldon's "Outlander" series. The author paints what seems to be a wonderfully realistic picture of 18th-century American life, but her characters are time-travelers who pass "through the stones" to arrive on the scene of critical moments in the American colonies. They have completely fictional encounters with people whose names we recognize, which makes them seem believable. These time-travelers comment on the historical events happening before their eyes, but their reactions are anything but historical. Jamie, the 16th-century Highlander, is sometimes overcome with admiration for the wonderful accomplishments of the 18th-century, while Claire, a 20th-century woman, must struggle with the temptation to introduce modern knowledge into a world not yet ready to accept it. The novels make great escape reading, but their history is unreliable, if not misleading.
Questions remain about the popularity of these various categories. How do you react? When you read a novel set in a particular time and place, do you want your history to be accurate? Or are you more interested in the story than the setting?
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Posted on Tuesday, November 08, 2011 9:58 AM
Sometimes the world just jumps up and hands you an enormous gift. That's how I feel this morning. As most of you know, I have made the transition from being a college history professor to writing historical fiction. But all along the way, I've been beating my own path through the publicaion jungle because I didn't know anyone else who had done the same thing. With one successful novel out there, I'm now getting ready to publish my own anecdotal account of the problems I've faced and the solutions I've found. But I certainly don't feel like an expert, and I've been hungry for some sort of validation--someone who could say that what I am doing is important.
Suddenly, here it is! The following announcement from The Institute of Historical Research appeared on my Facebook wall this morning, and I'm so excited about it that I'm copying the pertinent information here for all of you who might be interested.
Novel Approaches: From Academic History to Historical Fiction November 21-25, 2011
The relationship between academic history and historical fiction is a subject of great interest to historians. Major academic conferences, for example the American Historical Association gathering last January and the Leeds Medieval Congress this July, have included papers and sessions on the subject, and they are proving among the most lively and well attended. There are numerous examples of historians who have successfullymoved into the sphere of fiction, and conversely of authors whose fiction is underpinned by rigorous research. The large and growing public interest in history in Britain takes in both historical fact and historical fiction. And it is clear that many historians were at least in part inspired to pursue historical research by novels that they had read, or indeed are currently either planning to write or are writing their own works of fiction.
The IHR’s first virtual conference, ‘Novel approaches’ seeks to explore this phenomenon. It brings together a wide range of speakers, including academic and public historians, authors and publishers. They will be examining such questions as: Why have historical novels become ‘respectable’, and why anecdotally are historians being encouraged to write them? What is the difference between historical fiction and academic history, and how rigid are the boundaries between the two? How good are readers at differentiating between ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’ and how much does it matter if they don’t? Does the success of historical fiction benefit or threaten academic history, and what can literary authors and academics learn from each other?
The online conference takes place for one week and is free to all. Among much else it will cover the following themes: • The popularity of historical fiction • The differences and similarities between historical fiction and academic history • Does the success of historical fiction benefit or threaten academic history?
The schedule of events is already up, and starting on November 21, when the conference goes live, you'll be able to access podcasts, book reviews, articles, bibliographies, and opinion pieces from the participants.
I'll be there! Hope you'll join me.
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Posted on Wednesday, August 31, 2011 9:06 AM
Here's another lesson that becoming a historian taught me. There really are no right answers. You can never know the whole truth. And just by making those statements, I'm opening myself up to colleagues who will jump in to say, "No, there may be a right answer" or "There are absolute, knowable truths."
I used to drive my students into utter frustration by doing this sort of thing to them. I'd ask them an obvious question, like, "What did you eat for lunch?" Then, armed with the answer, I started the historian's routine. "Is that all you ate? Just peanut butter? Was it on bread? Did you have sugar? How about honey? No? What kind of peanut butter was it? Jif? Really? Did you read the label on the jar? Did you know that Jif has honey in it? And did you have any preservatives? Not even in the bread? Did you read the label?"
"Where were you born? How do you know? That's what's written on your birth certificate? How do you know your mother didn't lie when she filled out the form? She never lies? Really? Did she ever tell you about Santa Claus?" The Easter bunny? The tooth fairy?"
You get the idea. Historians always look for evidence, of course, but they never stop looking for evidence to the contrary. That's why, even after 150 years, historians are still arguing about whether slavery was the real cause of the Civil War.
Yesterday, I wrote about Braudel's theory that the grain people raised influenced the society in which they live and I ended by suggesting that the necessities involved in wheat farming helped explain Europe's advanced development. Almost immediately I received a comment on Facebook from a former colleague. Our discussion went something like this:
HE: 'Mann
ist was Mann isst', as it was said [the German phrase there means " A person is what he eats."]. But what is special about the
Medieval West and the modern societies it spawned, including the US, is
the fact that it was organized round dairy foods. This was possible
because the Germanic settlers were
unusually insensitive to lactose. You can see the results of cultural
transfer on the Lactose Intolerance shelves of American Drug Stores and
Pharmacies. Interesting, I think. · ME: Interesting, yes,
but you need to take this one step further. Is there an advantage to
dairy foods that legume eaters or bread eaters do not get? · HE: No,
and it is mostly bad for us. (I have a colleague . . . , who
has made his reputation by telling people so.) But I am only trained as a
historian; the moral hectoring I picked up on my own.
Another friend tried to pick a fight over my use of Braudel. In the comments, she wrote, "And then there was the horse harness..." That was a reference to a famous historical debate that proved Braudel was wrong about a number of his facts. However, as I remember the fuss, it was not a horse HARNESS that caused the trouble, but the horse STIRRUP. I didn't pursue the discussion.
The upshot of all of this is that, while I use my historical training to inform my writing, the most important lesson I have learned is that one should never be too sure of anything. Historians find that realization upsetting at times, but for a novelist, it is strangely reassuring. The lack of certainty offers free rein to fiction. |
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