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Another Problem
Another problem with historical fiction is the one pinpointed by Imogen Hermes Gowar in her Guardian review of Jessie Burton's new novel The House of Fortune. Burton's characters she says, "read sometimes like expats from the 21st century, coolly reflecting on the culture they exist alongside, internalising none of it."
But how could it ever be otherwise? People in the past had their heads filled with all sorts of junk that no longer interests us- and we too have our heads filled with all sorts of junk that they would have found incomprehensible. Giving their junk full weight while rigorously keping our junk out of the picture- even if it were possible- would result in historical fiction that no-one would care to engage with- dead-alive stuff, insufferably antiquarian and boring.
All fiction- historical and otherwise is of its time. It's talking to us, not to our ancestors. It's about our junk not theirs. Jessie Burton isn't going to show us what it felt like to live in 18th century Amsterdam- and we wouldn't thank her if she did- only what 18th century Amsterdam looks like to a mind that is aware of everything- and it's an awful lot- that has happened since. By the same token Catriona (which I've just finished) shows us 18th century Scotland (and Holland as it happens) through the eyes of a hero who writes in a colourful late romantic style and whose values- regarding sex and honour in particular- are staunchly and stuffily Victorian. Historical fiction is always about the present day- and how it measures up against the past. If you want to know what it actually felt like to be alive in the 18th century then read Henry Fielding or Lawrence Sterne. I did- a long time ago- and it was hard work.
But how could it ever be otherwise? People in the past had their heads filled with all sorts of junk that no longer interests us- and we too have our heads filled with all sorts of junk that they would have found incomprehensible. Giving their junk full weight while rigorously keping our junk out of the picture- even if it were possible- would result in historical fiction that no-one would care to engage with- dead-alive stuff, insufferably antiquarian and boring.
All fiction- historical and otherwise is of its time. It's talking to us, not to our ancestors. It's about our junk not theirs. Jessie Burton isn't going to show us what it felt like to live in 18th century Amsterdam- and we wouldn't thank her if she did- only what 18th century Amsterdam looks like to a mind that is aware of everything- and it's an awful lot- that has happened since. By the same token Catriona (which I've just finished) shows us 18th century Scotland (and Holland as it happens) through the eyes of a hero who writes in a colourful late romantic style and whose values- regarding sex and honour in particular- are staunchly and stuffily Victorian. Historical fiction is always about the present day- and how it measures up against the past. If you want to know what it actually felt like to be alive in the 18th century then read Henry Fielding or Lawrence Sterne. I did- a long time ago- and it was hard work.
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