Writing Right with Dmitri: Stealing History
Created | Updated Jan 22, 2012
Words, words, words. That's what we're made of. Herewith some of my thoughts on what we're doing with them.
Writing Right with Dmitri: Stealing from RL, Part II: Stealing History
Somewhere along the line, most of us will decide to write something with a historical setting. The funny thing is, what parts of history we 'borrow', and what we do with the facts we unearth, will depend a lot on where in history we find ourselves, and what our little corner of space/time thinks about the events in question.
Take Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Writing in the late 19th Century, from Britain, his view of events in the US owed a lot to his time – and the encyclopedia he was using:
" 'Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret society was formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the Southern states after the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local branches in different parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida. Its power was used for political purposes, principally for the terrorising of the negro voters and the murdering and driving from the country of those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic but generally recognised shape – a sprig of oak-leaves in some parts, melon seeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, or might fly from the country. If he braved the matter out, death would unfailingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to the perpetrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite of the efforts of the United States government and of the better classes of the community in the South. Eventually, in the year 1869, the movement rather suddenly collapsed, although there have been sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.'
"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume, "that the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and his family have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track. You can understand that this register and diary may implicate some of the first men in the South, and that there may be many who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered." – Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The Five Orange Pips', from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
I don't know if the bit about the 'orange pips' was right, but Doyle here makes the Ku Klux Klan into an organisation that is not only sinister (it was that), but having a pretty wide reach, which I suspect is a bit of a stretch. The Straight Dope messageboard blames all this 'information' on the New Universal Cyclopaedia of 1875-7. Go figure. At least this fictionalisation gives us an exciting tale.
Another thing you can do with history is direct the reader's sympathy to your favourite cause or point of view. Here's Alexandre Dumas, riding a hobbyhorse about the English Civil War in a direction modern people might find puzzling:
Then he knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and lowering his face to the planks, as if he would have kissed them, said in a low tone, in French, "Comte de la Fere, are you there?"
"Yes, your majesty," he answered, trembling.
"Faithful friend, noble heart!" said the king, "I should not have been rescued. I have addressed my people and I have spoken to God; last of all I speak to you. To maintain a cause which I believed sacred I have lost the throne and my children their inheritance. A million in gold remains; it is buried in the cellars of Newcastle Keep. You only know that this money exists. Make use of it, then, whenever you think it will be most useful, for my eldest son's welfare. And now, farewell."
"Farewell, saintly, martyred majesty," lisped Athos, chilled with terror.
A moment's silence ensued and then, in a full, sonorous voice, the king exclaimed: "Remember!"
He had scarcely uttered the word when a heavy blow shook the scaffold and where Athos stood immovable a warm drop fell upon his brow. He reeled back with a shudder and the same moment the drops became a crimson cataract. – Alexandre Dumas, Twenty Years After
The cult of 'Charles I, Saint and Martyr' is a little outdated now, but back in the Day, there probably wasn't a dry eye in the house – at least, for Dumas' French readers. Interestingly, Dumas said the king was a little above middle height. People must have been shorter then. Modern consensus is that Charles I could not have been taller than 5'3". Who cares about accuracy, anyway?
Even recent history is not safe from fiction, as we know – and you might be surprised to learn that people who lived through an event can have their memories shaped by fictional representation. Many people in the US during World War II believed there had been film cameras at work during the attack on Pearl Harbor, but this was because of a 'documentary' filmmaker. December 7th, a film made by John Ford for the Navy Department, recreated the Pearl Harbor attack using model ships and a large water tank. Years later, CNN accidentally ran some of this footage as documentary material. Be careful – the fiction you write may become somebody else's history.
Is it okay to make it up? Sure. After all, some of our favourite books are 'set against the backdrop' of wars, revolutions, and major cataclysms. Who cares about the burning of Atlanta? It's Scarlett and Rhett we're worried about.
May you write about interesting times.
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