Facts or Fiction?

A couple of days ago, fellow author Paul Genesse sent me a nice long e-mail

Two Takes on History

discussing his reactions to my novel The Buried Pyramid.  He complimented me for my use of Egyptian material, both historical and mythological, noting that although he is an avowed “Egyptophile” I had included some elements he had never seen used in that fashion before.

Well, of course, I was tickled.  Additionally, Paul’s comments got me thinking about writing historical fiction. I specifically found myself wondering if there is a point when too much accuracy gets in the way of the story?

When I was writing The Buried Pyramid, I researched my material on several levels.  My novel is set in the late 1870’s, so first I needed to make myself familiar with that time period.  I’ll just give one example of the complexities.

When looking into what type of clothing my characters would be wearing, I learned that this was a period of transition in women’s fashions.  Unlike today, older generations often held on to the styles of their “day,” while the younger people were more adventurous.  Therefore, I needed to be familiar with both older and cutting edge fashions.

I remember my copy editor querying me about the point where Jenny goes to the bazaar wearing a “daring” ankle-length gown.  The copy editor asked if I meant something shorter.  However, at the time in which my novel was set, especially for a young lady of good reputation, an ankle-length skirt was very, very daring – just like Jenny herself.

The Buried Pyramid offered me challenges far beyond fashion.  Most of the book is set in the 1870’s.  However, there’s a point where events get very, very weird.  For that section, I needed the most up-to-date information available about ancient Egypt.  Therefore, I had to divide my Egypt research into two parts.  One was for the Egypt – both ancient and “modern” – that my characters would know.  The other was for an ancient Egypt as close “real” as I could get.

Happily, I have a friend who shares my enthusiasm for matters of Egyptian history.  He loaned me armloads of books, including travel journals written by people who were in Egypt at the same time my characters were.  I had a wonderful time immersing myself in the material.  I even learned some elementary hieroglyphs and their varied meanings.  Fun!

One problem with about writing historical fiction is that some historical realities are distinctly unpleasant.  Here I’m not talking about the things everyone brings up, like body odor or the prevalence of disease.  I’m talking about social attitudes.

Here, I think, is one of the places where an author risks alienating readers.

One of my favorite examples of this problem is illustrated by the attitude shown towards two specific social customs in two popular Roman mystery series: the “Novels of Ancient Rome” written by Steven Saylor and the “SPQR” mysteries written by John Maddox Roberts.  These books are both set near the fall of the Roman Republic.  In a couple of cases, the action even centers around the same events.  However, in my opinion, Roberts does a far better job of getting into the mind set of a Roman of that time period.

Saylor’s main character is uncomfortable with slavery.  He frees a slave and – if I recall correctly – even marries her.  He’s basically a twentieth century American in a toga.

Roberts’ main character, Decius, is completely comfortable with slavery.  He keeps slaves and is unsentimental about them.  When Decius sets up housekeeping on his own, his family gives him a couple of elderly retainers, much as today parents might give their kids the old furniture from the storage unit.  Decius is happy to have these slaves – even if he wishes he could have younger slaves, and, especially, slaves who hadn’t known him from the time he was a child and so feel free to nag.

Admittedly, Decius is something of an eccentric.  He actually cares “who dunnit” and why, whereas his family is mostly interested in what political advantage can be gained from murders and other scandalous events.  However, except for this, he is very much a man of his time.

Decius is young and lusty, quite capable (especially in the earlier books) of getting into affairs that aren’t exactly wise.  However, when the time comes for him to marry, Decius is not led by either his heart or his desires.  He knows that for a Roman marriage is a means of social advancement and of cementing ties for his family with other families.  He’s lucky that one girl among those who are suggested as suitable – the niece of a rising politician named Gaius Julius Caesar – is also quite to his liking.

No marriages to slaves for him!

Later on in the series, Decius does free his body slave, a young man named Hermes, but not out of any sentiment that slavery is wrong or that Hermes “deserves” to be free.  Decius simply decides that it would be advantageous to him to have Hermes be able to function as a freedman, since slaves were barred from certain areas.

Demonstrating the responsibility of Roman slaveholder to house slave, Decius waits until the somewhat impulsive young Hermes is ready for the responsibility of freedom.  He also comforts himself with the awareness that legally Hermes will remain his client, bound to him within the complex rules that govern client-patron relationship.  Thus, Decius will not lose a valuable associate, nor will Hermes be out of a job.

I guess you can tell that I prefer Roberts’ more historical approach, but the success of Saylor’s series (and that of Lindsay Davis, set somewhat later in Roman history) shows that there are plenty of readers who think otherwise.

I want to take a further look at dealing with unpleasant social realities, but first I’m going to let you get a word in edgewise!  How historical do you need a historical novel to be for you to enjoy it?  When does history get in the way of fun?