The Cardinal Sin of Historical Fiction

[osprey_archer]

The cardinal sin of historical fiction books: the auctorial hand, like the hand of God, smacks one of the characters into an epiphany about the truth, justice, and general awesomeness of present-day American values.

I loathe books that do this. It’s so unbearably smug, as if modern-day liberal American values were so perfect and wonderful in every respect, as opposed to evil, backward, hypocritical historical systems of belief. We may have progressed, but we haven’t reached the culmination of moral existence. Seriously. If we have, that’s depressing beyond belief.

And even if we had, that’s still no excuse to write historical fiction as a literary freak show. That’s just mean-spirited and suggests that the author can’t face opponents who are actually alive to defend themselves.



Maybe—maybe—if there was some justification for the painful didacticism, I might forgive. But it’s not like most modern readers need HELP figuring out that slavery was bad, and the ones that DO aren’t going to be reading the book anyway, and if they did the clunky epiphany of a dim-witted fictional character is not going to bring enlightenment into their hearts.

Not only is this plot annoying and didactic: it’s also boring. Look how evil our ancestors were! does not a narrative sustain. Epiphany is the only possible ending (there’s no way the main character is going to end the book shrieking, “I LOVE oppressing people!”) and it can be reached only by a tiresome march for Epiphany Points—the Brush with Oppression, the Meeting of an Oppressed Person, Realization that Oppressed Person is Human—culminating after two hundred painful pages in the obvious epiphany.

A story from the point of view of an unrepentant Calvinist would be refreshing.

It’s not that I want all the characters to be hard-core deep South psycho-racist Secesh-to-the-core bastards. All I ask is that, if such a character is present, the author refrain from elaborate villain-get-thee-hence rituals. Please. I’m not going to assume that his nasty villain germs are an expression of your deep and evil inner self.

Actually, this cardinal sin can also apply to fantasy or science fiction books, anything that deals with a culture that isn’t ours. The book that brought on this rant—Sharon Shinn’s General Winston’s Daughter—masquerades as a fantasy but is, basically, about a thinly-disguised British Empire. And how imperialism is evil. Because we hadn’t noticed.

In either case, the historical or the fantastic, the root of the problem is the author’s refusal to commit. She hovers anxiously in the background, unwilling to trust her world-building or story-telling to uphold any sense of morality; the characters are suspended from puppet strings before a badly-painted backdrop, and it shows.

Comments

[goldjadeocean.livejournal.com]

I love the works of Eric Flint for solving this in elegant simplicity: he really just does dump a bunch of late 20th-century Americans in 17th century Germany and make them give political commentary.

[minervasolo.livejournal.com]

Sorry, I clicked the wrong 'reply to button' then. Comment is now duly moved to the right place.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Heh. This happens a lot. Maybe there's something wrong with my reply buttons?

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Oh, but that's cheating. :p

Is it one of those stories where modern people go back in time (or find a new galaxy) and teach the locals the proper way to behave? I never liked those episodes in Star Trek and Stargate.

[goldjadeocean.livejournal.com]

Kind of yes and kind of no; the Americans on hand do start changing things, but some of the locals are "freedom yay! Let's start a communist revolution!" and some of the locals are, "we think you're on crack and probably lying about this "human rights" crap, but people aren't shooting at us when you're around" and some of the locals are dukes and princes and kings going, "...you are very, very dangerous people."

The novel is called 1632; its sequels are legion, because Flint's response to 1632 fanfic was, "OMG, awesome! Let's publish that!"

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Best response to fanfic EVER.

[minervasolo.livejournal.com]

I love authors who can make me sympathise with and root for a character with a completely different moral attitude than my own (apiphile did this brilliantly with her mass murderer Sorka). A lot of historical fiction ought to require this talent, but, like you say, it just doesn't have it. Moralising is so annoying. The chances of finding someone in the Roman Empire who's against slavery in general (as opposed to, say, them being a slave) is practically nil, since slavery was an integral part of most societies at that time, but apparently us reades can't deal with that idea.

I tend to be of the opinion that if you can't bring yourself to write it accurately, write something else. Or I'll read something else.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Yes.

I mean, one anti-slavery character is all right--I think either Juvenal or Cicero was anti-slavery, so it's possible--but when all the good characters are anti-slavery, that's just ridiculous. And the single anti-slavery character ought to be considered a bit of a weirdo.

I think writers tend to think that, if they're engaging with some "issue"--slavery, women's rights, whatever--their book has somehow become serious literature as opposed to escapist fluff. Which, no; history with a didactic point is just as escapist as the fluffiest fluff ever written, because it leaves the reader smug and secure in her values.

(I don't have anything against escapist literature, but there are few things more tiresome than watching an author desperately try [and fail] to free herself from its grasp.)