The lying art of historical fiction
When Wolf Hall won last year's Booker prize some commentators suggested that the term "historical fiction" was itself becoming a thing of the past. So many novels these days are set prior to the author's lifetime that to label a novel "historical" is almost as meaningless as to call it "literary". Eight of the last 10 Booker prize shortlists have included a novel set in the 19th century, and with the inclusion of David Mitchell's The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet in this year's longlist, there is a better than fair chance that 2010 will be no different. However, one issue still divides historical fiction and contemporary: the matter of historical accuracy.
Historical accuracy is like quicksand. Stay too long in the same place and it will suck you down and there will be no movement, no dynamism to the story. Too much attention to factual detail is undoubtedly an impediment to literary art. Adam Foulds's The Quickening Maze is described on the Booker prize website as "historically accurate but beautifully imagined", as if "historically accurate" implied a literary problem. In some respects it does. Ask a historical author: how do you stop that facts getting in the way of the story? And the novelist, driven by his or her imagination, will offer a wealth of answers. The historian will assure you that the facts are the story.
Ignoring the mythical holy grail of historical accuracy is even more problematic. By far the most commonly cited book in this respect is The Da Vinci Code, even though it is not a historical novel at all. The historical context of the plot is what excites criticism in this respect. The same could be said of many historical films. My particular favourite historical error appears at the end of Braveheart, where it is suggested that the future Edward III (born in 1312) was the product of a union between the Scottish rebel William Wallace (executed in London in 1305) and Princess Isabella of France, who was nine at the time of Wallace's death. It would be funny – if I had not met so many people who believed it....
Read entire article at Guardian (UK)
Historical accuracy is like quicksand. Stay too long in the same place and it will suck you down and there will be no movement, no dynamism to the story. Too much attention to factual detail is undoubtedly an impediment to literary art. Adam Foulds's The Quickening Maze is described on the Booker prize website as "historically accurate but beautifully imagined", as if "historically accurate" implied a literary problem. In some respects it does. Ask a historical author: how do you stop that facts getting in the way of the story? And the novelist, driven by his or her imagination, will offer a wealth of answers. The historian will assure you that the facts are the story.
Ignoring the mythical holy grail of historical accuracy is even more problematic. By far the most commonly cited book in this respect is The Da Vinci Code, even though it is not a historical novel at all. The historical context of the plot is what excites criticism in this respect. The same could be said of many historical films. My particular favourite historical error appears at the end of Braveheart, where it is suggested that the future Edward III (born in 1312) was the product of a union between the Scottish rebel William Wallace (executed in London in 1305) and Princess Isabella of France, who was nine at the time of Wallace's death. It would be funny – if I had not met so many people who believed it....