Stranger Than Fiction: on Embracing the History in Historical Fiction
As a history buff, you know what really grinds my gears? Historical fiction that completely faceplants on historical accuracy.
I’m not talking about the infamous “stirrups weren’t invented yet!” cliché either. No, I’m talking about some nitty gritty not giving of a single eyelash wish’s worth of fucks that sticks out like a sore thumb to completely derail a narrative.
When writing a story you’re always going to have to leave something on the cutting room floor. I get it. Historical fiction is particularly challenging in that regard in determining what to cut and when without completely altering the core of the events being described. More than simple nuance, this requires an overt understanding of events so that any alteration or omission may still accurately convey what took place.
How does one go about such a monumental task? Take for instance the story of Hacksaw Ridge wherein Desmond Doss, a conscientious objector to violence, risks his own life to save as many men as he can from the meat grinder of a terrible battle amidst WWII. The movie based on this event shows Doss saving dozens of men while in reality he saved no less than 75.
Why the change? First, the constraints of the medium. As amazing as Doss’s actions were, the sad fact of the matter is the writers knew movie audience’s don’t typically sit around for 12 hour real time documentaries. In order to tell the world about Doss, they’d ironically need to say less about him.
Secondly, the reality is so unbelievable audiences wouldn’t have believed it. Think about it! One man without a gun saving 75 others while dodging bullets and hand grenades and living to tell the tale? Tell me that doesn’t sound like some 80s Hollywood action star shit. I mean, hell, if you did something like that in real life you’d win the medal of honor! (which he did but I digress).
Even here the writers changed facts regarding Doss’s early life in order to give a more dramatic reason for his being a pacifist and skipping over a prior relationship in favor of making things more “Hollywood,” yet they did so with dignity and respect.
Now imagine someone wrote a story from one of the men Doss saved? One would naturally thinks he’d be blinded with pain and in awe of Doss coming to save him, painting a picture for the reader of Doss being a guardian angel of sorts. This is what I would call “good” historical fiction.
What would “bad” historical fiction be? Well, it may have Doss be an asshole who takes credit for another person’s (likely the main character’s) work, or present a similar alternate “hidden” history that’s supposed to be edgy and entertaining but that I find comes off as crass and doing a profound disservice to what should be a fun jump through time.
Another example of this in literature would be Killer Angels: in short order you have the drama of the battle of Gettysburg play out, have character motivations clearly defined to reflect their real life depictee, have the overarching politics of the Civil War explained, and all while enjoying a healthy dose of inter-relationship drama on the side in one neat package.
The pacing is breakneck, with nary a word wasted, and you find yourself on the edge of your seat even when you know what happens next.
And that, dear reader, is “great” historical fiction, where precious few changes were made and those present were done with such tact and grace that it makes you want to crack open a history book to try and find out more.
Truth is stranger than fiction as they say, but stray too far from the truth and you’ll only serve to call the authenticity of the rest of your work into question.
So when writing historical fiction don’t be bad, or even good.
Dare to be great.