At Last, I Sit Through Half of Braveheart

The other night, my husband channel-surfed and landed on Braveheart, which I missed seeing at the time it was released (a) because it wasn't anything that interested me then and (b) because it came out when I was in law school, a time in which I was blissfully oblivious to all around me but the continuing saga of Blackacre and John Doe's valiant attempts to preserve it for his male heirs. (Now there's a movie someone needs to make: Blackacre.)

Once I became interested in the reign of Edward II, however, I did have some interest in seeing Braveheart, though this quickly evaporated when I found out how historically inaccurate it was. Nonetheless, I was curious enough to come into the living room the other night to see the last half of the movie. So here at last, is my report.

I can't see why the moviemakers bothered creating a love interest between "Princess Isabella" and William Wallace--it didn't add much to the story except to give Isabella a chance to whisper a spiteful farewell to the dying Edward I about Edward II not being the father of the child she was carrying. She could have done the same thing by whispering, "Longshanks, when I get the chance I'm going to bump your son off the throne, and it's not going to be pretty."

Gory as this movie was supposed to be, I thought Mel Gibson stayed remarkably well-groomed during his execution and the prelude to it. When the crowd threw rubbish at him, for instance, it didn't seem to mar his appearance in the slightest.

My favorite part, however, was the very end, when Robert Bruce at the Battle of Bannockburn gives an inspirational message to his troops while the English army facing him patiently wait for the Scots to start the battle. How gentlemanly of them.

Still, I'll have to admit the whole thing was pretty moving--it made me feel a twinge of Scottish patriotism, even though the only true Scotsman in our family is our cairn terrier. But it would have been a much better movie if all the nonsense had been left out.

Back Bloggin', and Been Reading Jean Plaidy

Well, I'm back, having spent the last few days at the hospital where my daughter was having surgery. I'm sure she'll be blogging about the subject soon.

I took the precaution of bringing several books with me, including Jean Plaidy's In the Shadow of the Crown and Murder Most Royal. The first, about "Bloody" Mary, I found somewhat disappointing, mainly, I think, because it spent comparatively little time on Mary's life as queen.

I was very impressed, though, by Murder Most Royal, which from its original copyright date of 1949 must have been one of Plaidy's earliest novels. In many of Plaidy's novels, particularly the later ones, I get the sense that she's writing straight from notes or reference materials, with very little time spent on developing character and with dialogue that is little more than exposition. This novel, by contrast, develops character at a leisurely pace and has characters who speak to each other instead of to the reader. I also liked the way Plaidy interspersed episodes from Anne Boleyn's life with those of Catharine Howard's life.

Next on the list? Well, I've got another Plaidy, and I've also picked up Karen Harper's novel about Mary Boleyn.

Where Am I?

Family obligations have kept me offline for the past couple of days and probably will until the weekend at least, but I'll be back posting soon--I've had plenty of time to read!

Ten More Rules for Writing Historical Fiction

A series of rules for writing various sorts of historical fiction has been circulating in the blogsphere. Here's a link to the original list, created by Alan Fisk and posted on Sarah Cuthbertson's blog: Sarah's Bookarama: The All-Purpose Rules for Writing Historical Fiction/Writing Ripping Yarns

The list is quite amusing, as are some of the other lists that followed in its wake, several of which can be seen on the same blog.

As I've got time on my hands now that there's no more figure skating/pratfalling to watch on the Olympics, I've come up with Ten More Rules for Writing Historical Fiction:

1.     No matter how prevalent the practice at the time or how wealthy or high-born the heroine is, she must be shocked and appalled at the idea of having a marriage arranged for her.

2.     If a woman is beautiful and a man handsome, their first sexual encounter must be ecstatic and multi-orgasmic for both, no matter how inexperienced, intoxicated, or tired one or both parties are or how inhospitable the setting is. Any children born of the encounter will be wild and free, like Nature herself.

3.     If one party to a sexual encounter is ordinary-looking or plain, the result must be tepid at best and miserable at worst. Any children born of the encounter will be dull or just plain mean.

4.     If both parties to a sexual encounter are ordinary-looking or plain, you've mistakenly picked up a work of highly experimental literary fiction, which should be read only by Ph.D.'s in English and only then with extreme caution.

5.     If an older man marries a beautiful younger woman, he cannot possibly fulfill her sexual needs, a fact of which she must become well aware when a handsome man of her own age appears, thereby triggering Rule 2 above.

6.     If Richard III is the hero of the novel, he must have been deeply affected by the deaths of his father and his brother Edmund; however, his siblings, particularly Clarence, must have been virtually untouched emotionally by the same events.

7.     Elizabeth Woodville must be grasping, scheming, and totally without heart, even in the rare novel where Richard III is not the hero.

8.     When a messenger appears, the recipient must ask, "Have you news?" evidently in the belief that a mud-splattered person riding a lathered horse and waving a letter in his hand might be there merely to make a social call.

9.     Midwives must be earthy, warm-hearted founts of wisdom. Physicians must be stiff, cold-hearted quacks.

10.     If a female character has visions, she must be psychic. If a male character has visions, he must be psychotic.

Fan Fiction versus Historical Fiction

I posed this question on a group I belong to, but got no response, so I thought I'd post it here in hopes of getting one.

There are many novels featuring characters who first appeared in classic novels. Jane Austen's works, particularly Pride and Prejudice, seem to have spawned the most progeny. John Updike tried his hand at this in Gertrude and Claudius, which ends immediately before the action of Hamlet begins, and Sidney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities has his own book, A Far Better Rest, by Susanne Alleyn. I've enjoyed the Updike and Alleyn books, and I've also enjoyed some of Joan Aiken's Jane Austen sequels. In fact, I've tried my own hand at this with Romeo and Juliet. (My short novel, which I'm shopping around, concerns Mercutio's life before his fatal duel with Tybalt. Inquiries are welcome--just don't overload my in box, please.)

So are these novels historical novels or fan fiction? They seem to meet the criteria for fan fiction, as stated in Wikipedia: "written by people who enjoy a film, novel, television show or other media work, using the characters and situations developed in it and developing new plots in which to use these characters." Yet somehow I can't picture John Updike saying to himself, "Well, I guess I'll check Amazon to see how my Shakespeare fan fiction is selling today." Is the difference just in the quality of writing? Or is it just having a publisher's ISBN number that transforms a work from fan fiction into historical fiction? I'm curious to hear what others think.

(While you're at it, Mr. Updike, could you write another Rabbit book? Pretty please? Even if you have to call it Rabbit Remembered Redux.)

Chuggin' Along with Plaidy

Still chugging along with Jean Plaidy's In the Shadow of the Crown, about Queen Mary. (I was interrupted for a couple of days by my reading of another novel for review purposes. Can't discuss it until the official review is posted elsewhere.) The first few chapters in the Plaidy went by fairly slowly, mainly, I think, because Mary was too young to participate in any of the action but just had to recap what had been happening around her. Now that she can talk back, I think things will be a bit more interesting.

I've been tweaking both my Squidoo lenses. If you're interested in historical fiction generally, but not in my book in particular (that's me you hear gnashing teeth and muttering darkly, but never mind), check out my Reading Historical Fiction lens, which contains links of broad interest, not those centering on particular writers or publishers. If you're interested in both historical fiction generally and my book, check out both lenses, then have a great weekend! You deserve it, bud.

Finished Marrying Mozart

Finished Marrying Mozart today. It was enjoyable reading, but on the whole it was a little disappointing. It was the story of the four Weber sisters, one of whom becomes Mozart's wife at the end of the novel. After the girls' father dies, the sisters leave home one by one, mainly, supposedly, because of their mother, who has delusions that the girls can land rich husbands and schemes accordingly. Most of her scheming is so ineffectual, however, that it's hard for the reader to feel much anger at the mother or to understand why the sisters feel so much antipathy toward her. She remains a very shadowy character on the whole. Likewise, I didn't feel that I knew the sisters well enough. When they had various crises—dumping a fiancé, running off from home, getting involved with a married man—I didn't get the sense that there was anything in that particular sister's character that brought her to such a pass; rather, it seemed that any of the other sisters could have been in the same situation had she been at the right (wrong?) time and place. Mozart himself is a bit underdrawn—he shows some promise in one scene when he gets angry at his fiancée because she has let someone measure her leg (horrors!), but after only a few sentences his anger sputters out. He's such a nice guy, in fact, that when one sister tries to get him to run off with her on the eve of his wedding to another, there's no suspense because the reader doesn't believe for an instant that he would be such a cad.

There are some nice parts about the book too, mind you, particularly the scenes between Mozart and Sophie and between the sisters in the first half of the book when they are all living together. Perhaps that's one of the problems here—the author is good at depicting family life, especially the way four high-strung adolescent girls interact,  but where there's no family life to depict anymore, she falters.

Anyway, I'm back to Jean Plaidy with In the Shadow of the Crown (Bloody Mary).

February Is the Cruelest Month

Why? Because it's Girl Scout cookie month.

I am a temperate person in most respects, but I have a weakness for Girl Scout cookies—or, to be more specific, the Trefoils. The rest I have no liking for, but the Trefoils I can polish off at the rate of a box a day (two if I'm not careful).

And there's no avoiding them. If the only opportunity  I had to buy cookies was when the Girl Scouts came door-to-door selling them, I'd be fine because I'd buy my quota and then be done with it for the year, but it doesn't work that way here in the suburbs. You go to the shopping mall, there's a troop there with a table full of cookies (and they're never out of my flavor). You go to the pizza place, there's a troop there. You go to the grocery store, there's a troop there—every single day. So far, they've left my other haunts, the library and Barnes and Noble, alone, but I'm sure that won't last forever.

So you might say, just walk on past the Girl Scouts, with their tempting array of cookies. But while walking the dog tonight (and incidentally burning off at least one cookie), I realized that I should not do that. You see, selling these cookies helps to build these girls' self-esteem. Conversely, not selling them can only hurt their self-esteem, right? So if I walk past these girls staring so hopefully at me, I might well be planting the seeds for disaster. Her self-confidence shattered, one of these sweet little girls drifts away from the Girl Scouts, into the wrong crowd, into a teenage pregnancy, on to marriage to a creep and a life wasted watching bad daytime television. And all because I didn't buy a lousy box of Trefoils.

No, no, I can't take the guilt. I'm buying two more boxes tomorrow.





Above: The Cruel Face of Temptation

Moving on to Mozart, with Some Musing on the Side

Finished the Plaidy book on Katharine of Aragon. It ends, of course, unhappily, with Katharine dead after having lived in very reduced circumstances and with Anne Boleyn's neck in considerable danger. All in all, I thought it was one of Plaidy's better efforts. I'm looking forward to reading Murder Most Royal (I think that's the title), about Anne Boleyn and Katharine Howard, as well as her book about Bloody Mary.

But that's for later, for now I've started Marrying Mozart by Stephanie Cowell. So far, I'm captivated by it. I know next to nothing about Mozart (except that I like his music), so I'm in no position to judge the book's accuracy, but as far as I can tell it seems well researched. It certainly has nicely delineated characters.

One of the fascinating things about historical fiction to me is how differently authors can interpret the same set of facts. Anne Boleyn is an extremely unsympathetic character in the Plaidy book I just read, scheming and vindictive, but I've seen other novels in which she is treated very gently—some, indeed, where she comes across as nearly a martyr. Plaidy herself wrote a novel narrated by Anne herself (the usual let-me-set-down-my-story-before-the-French-swordsman-arrives premise), in which she comes off rather well, considering, and Margaret George in her novel about Henry VIII manages the almost impossible feat of making Henry VIII sympathetic and even likable. Different strokes for the same folks—that's what keeps me reading!

Squidoo, Amazon, and Really Nothing Whatsoever to Do with Historical Fiction

I love finding new things to play with on the Internet, especially when some clever person's done all of the formatting for me and all I have to do is input text! A couple of days ago, someone on a list I belong to mentioned a site called Squidoo. It allows users to create a "lens"--not so much a website or a blog as a gateway into a website or a blog. Anyway, you can see my two Squidoo lenses here. One, of course, is devoted to my novel (Mom can only make so many telephone calls to her friends, you know, especially for a novel that opens with two guys in bed together), and the other is aimed at readers of historical fiction. So check 'em out on the right side of your screen!

Amazon is also adding some gizmos. It has an Author Connect feature now, which I have signed up for but seem to be about the millionth person in line for. I just noticed that Amazon has Wikis now for book pages, so I added one for mine. Problem is, Wikis can be edited by any Amazon customer who comes along, which is an attraction for nutcases and for people with way too much time on their hands. (One such person has added snotty little Wikis to J. K. Rowling's Amazon pages--that'll show her!) It'll be interesting to see how all of these features pan out.

By the way, I spent way too much time debating whether to capitalize "with" in this blog title.

Slow but Steady

Rather slow on the reading front at the moment--I'm still going through the Jean Plaidy. This is a reissue in one volume of three books about Katharine of Aragon that were originally published separately, and I've finished books 1 and 2. I think putting them all together works much better than having them separate, especially for book 2, which ended rather abruptly, not so much because the action (the birth of Henry Fitzroy) was particularly dramatic but because the author had reached her allotted word count. Anyway, I've enjoyed it so far. Plaidy's writing style can be pedestrian, but this is far better than some of her other novels I've read, and the length of these books allowed her to delve more into character and motivation than she usually does.

I've got Marrying Mozart to start on next, and I also remembered that I have a book about William Marshall by L. Christian Balling called Champion that I never got around to reading. It looks as if it'd be fun to read. On the nonfiction front, I've been debating whether to buy Michael Hicks' new book on Anne Neville. No kind soul has posted a review of it on Amazon yet. Hicks can be awfully dry, though, so I may just sit tight and hope the university library orders a copy.

Recycling

Before they get swallowed up into cyberspace, here's some posts from a previous incarnation of this blog. Strangely enough, I couldn't find the post in which I unmasked James Frey months before Smoking Gun did. Ah, well--they'll have to get the credit, then.

Thursday, November 03, 2005
Starting to Read a New Book, Familiar Name on Amazon, and a Review at Last
I received a new historical novel (not a new one, actually, since it was published in 1972) by Jean Stubbs called The Unknown Welshman. (As you can tell, my taste in historical novels runs toward the late medieval). Haven't started reading it yet, as it requires more concentration than my kids would allow today, but it looks interesting--a book about the Wars of the Roses from Henry VII's point of view instead of the Yorkists for a change. I'm not particularly pro-Lancastrian, but I do get tired of the usual Good Yorkists, Bad Lancastrians that seems to be the guiding trend in current novels set during this period. So it'll be interesting to see a change in perspective.

Strange thing happened today while I was looking over the Amazon reviews for a book (not this one or mine). I saw a name that looked quite familiar and realized that it was one of my ex-boyfriends! I haven't seen the guy in nearly 25 years, and I don't intend to look him up now, but I naturally had to Google him to see what else he was up to. Learned quite a lot. Recently I'd Googled a couple of female high school friends whom I'd lost touch with and hadn't come up with anything, so it was interesting to see someone who had left an electronic trail behind him, so to speak. Probably wouldn't be a very good idea to send him a copy of The Traitor's Wife to review, I guess.

Speaking of which, I finally got a Kirkus Discoveries review for The Traitor's Wife. It wasn't a boffo review, but it wasn't a crawl-under-the-covers-and-stay-there-for-a-week one either. The reviewer found it entertaining but "melodramatic at times." Well, so was the history during this period! But it's still nice to have an objective review from a professional. You can read the whole thing, melodrama and all, on the "Reviews" page of my website. (Technically, it should be called "Review" but I have high hopes of more to come.)

Sunday, November 13, 2005
Charming, discerning mystery person recommends The Traitor's Wife!
Ah, ego-surfing--a terrible thing and something I suspect everyone with a book published does too much (that and checking one's Amazon ranking). But I just got a very pleasant surprise tonight--someone, a stranger to me but obviously a very discerning, lovely, and well-read person, recommended reading my novel, The Traitor's Wife. (And no, it's not my mother--she's computer-illiterate [note from present: not anymore!] and prefers regency romances anyway.)

http://chat.dailymail.co.uk/dailymail/threadnonInd.jsp?forum=333&thread=9689109&message=10922716

As for the other novels recommended by our mystery person, I can tell you I've read several of them and found them all well written and researched.

Got three paperbacks to choose from for next week's reading--one about Richard III, one about Katherine Howard (Henry VIII's fifth wife), and the other about Hereward the Wake (about whom I know almost nothing). Decisions, decisions . . .

Monday, November 28, 2005
P. D. James's The Lighthouse
I started P. D. James's The Lighthouse a few days ago, and although I'm finding it enjoyable, I don't think it's James at her best. Some of the characters feel like reworkings of former ones, and the most compelling personality, unfortunately, is the murder victim, who has a fine old time alienating almost everyone around him until he's bumped off. It would also have been nice to spend a bit more time getting to know the murderer (OK, I peeked) and the other suspects instead of spending so much time with Dalgleish and his fellow investigators. (And isn't it time Kate got over being illegitimate and growing up in public housing? At least James is finally giving the poor woman a love life.) Still, it's well worth the read--I just wouldn't put everything else on hold to get to it.

Lots of historical fiction on my to-buy list! I'm looking forward to the new Philippa Gregory about Catherine of Aragon, though I'm not sure why. I couldn't get past the first few pages of her last novel, The Virgin Queen, and I thought that The Other Boleyn Girl, with the hideously deformed fetus, the brother-sister incest, and the supposed homosexuality of Anne's brother George was oversensationalized (and if Gregory wanted to sex things up, why did she ignore Mary Boleyn's reputedly lusty stay in France?). I'll probably have to do some serious skimming before buying it.

Saturday, December 03, 2005
Back to Historical Fiction!
Got my P. D. James fix, and now I have a couple of new historical novels in the house to read. I tend to look off the beaten path for my historical fiction reading--most new novels by the big publishing houses tend not to appeal to me for some reason or the other. So I find most of what I read online and used. Last week while browsing through Amazon, I was pleased to find a novel about Henry VIII's fifth wife (divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived) called Lies and Lust in the Tudor Court by Margaret Doner. Not much is written about this queen, Katherine Howard, especially when compared to her relative and predecessor Anne Boleyn, so it's always nice to run across something new.

Also in my mailbox today (I love a mailbox full of books) was an old paperback novel by Maureen Peters, Elizabeth the Beloved, about Henry VII's queen. I liked Peters' book about Queen Isabella, and this one looks as if it'll be entertaining too. I'll keep ya posted!

Jean Plaidy's Katharine of Aragon, Three Kings Named Edward, and My Mustard Chorus Line

I've been reading Jean Plaidy's Katharine of Aragon, which is a reissue in one volume of three books originally published in the 1960's. So far, I'm rather enjoying it. Plaidy's style can get rather repetitive, but in this particular case, with so many characters to keep track of, this can be a blessing. Plaidy also describes the events from the perspective of a number of different characters, not just Katharine, so the pace of the book, though leisurely, doesn't feel slow. I may try her reissued book on Charles II next, and there's also a book (not by Plaidy) called Marrying Mozart that's waiting patiently on the library hold shelf for me.

By the way, if you enjoy discussing Edward I, Edward II, and Edward III, along with the important events and people of their reigns, there's a new Yahoo group just for you! Check it out under The First Three Edwards link to your right.

Last night my daughter saw fit to Make a Statement About My Housekeeping by arranging all of our waiting-to-be-recycled mustard containers in a neat little row in the pantry. Having no shame (hey, Martha Stewart's served time! I haven't), I've taken a picture of the result:



If I don't post again soon, it'll be because the folks from House Beautiful are just taking too much of my time.

What Not to Web

As a reader as well as a writer, I always enjoy looking at author websites, especially when I'm deciding whether to buy a certain book. I've gained valuable ideas for my own site from such surfing. Unfortunately, I've also seen much to avoid. Here are some website blunders that have kept me from buying an author's books:

1. Poor grammar and spelling. I'm not talking about the occasional typographical error that slips by the best of us. I'm talking about authors who have no idea of the difference between "who's" and "whose," whose subjects and verbs don't agree, and whose pages are full of misspelled words. Why would I buy such an author's book when the website is so painful to view?


2. Dated material. I've seen many websites where the author has a page listing his scheduled appearances, such as at book-signings. When I click the page, I find out that all of the appearances are a year or more old. Similarly, I saw one page recently where the author used a Halloween theme, which was cute in October but wore decidedly thin after Thanksgiving. An author's website is a valuable sales tool. If he doesn't care enough about it to keep it fresh-looking, why should I assume that more care went into his book?


3. No excerpts. I want to sample a book before I buy it, unless it's by someone whose books I always buy. Ice cream stores have those little spoons their customers can taste a flavor with before springing for a double scoop—why not give readers the same benefit with an excerpt they can read?


4. Fussy script. Would you buy a book written entirely in cursive script? Then why would you use all-cursive script on your website? Aside from the difficulty in reading it, not everyone has sharp young eyes, and some of us, like me, never had sharp eyes even when we were young. Pander to us a little.


5. Busy, busy, busy. A reader looking at an author's site is interested in the books the author writes, not in how many cute icons the writer can squeeze on a page. Unless you're a talented graphic designer or have hired one, it's best to err on the side of simplicity. Remember, too, that not everyone has high-speed Internet access—if a site's so graphic-intensive it takes a long time to load, the reader's likely to press the Stop button.


6. You like me, you really, really like me! Patting oneself on the back is fine on an author's website, in moderation, but some authors overdo it. Quote some favorable reviews, list the awards you've received, keep a guestbook full of flattering comments—but don't tell me on every page how fortunate I am just to be breathing the same air that you do. It backfires. It really, really backfires.


7. Boring websites. Some writers list only their books and their biographical information on the websites. Why not give the viewer something to linger over, even if it's only a few links to click? If a website's captured my interest, I might well come back to it later—and this time, I might have some money to burn and be ready to buy your book.


8. Navel-gazing. This may be my own idiosyncratic prejudice, but I dislike author websites where all or most of the links are to sites about writing and where all or most of the author Q & A's are about how to get published—as if the only people viewing the author's site are aspiring writers themselves. Of course, authors do get asked advice on how to get published, and putting it on the website saves repetition, but give folks who aren't interested in being writers or who don't need the advice something to look at also.


9. Whining. Some authors, particularly in their blogs, go on and on about the difficulty of writing, their problems with their publishers, their battles with the phone company, and so forth. A little of this goes a very long way. Unless a reputation as a kvetch is part of your literary persona, or unless whiners are the readers you're looking for, go easy on the griping. Most people have relatives to complain to them—they don't need to search the web for that.


10. Snarling photographs. It's a very small quibble, but I prefer to buy books from nice people rather than from mean people. Some authors, presumably trying to look serious and/or thoughtful (or, perhaps, thinner?), succeed only in looking mean. If that's the case with you, leave the picture off the website, or at least substitute a picture of yourself at age three looking mean. Leave the scowls to the high-fashion models.

Too Much Richard III, and The Spanish Bride

Yes, I keep changing the title of this blog. But the idea of doing lists when I'd really just like to rattle on about things was getting too confining, and it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind.

Though I liked the novel, I've put down The Broken Sword for the time being--I'm suffering from a surfeit of Richard III fiction. There are only so many solutions to the Princes in the Tower mystery, after all, and once you figure out whether a novelist is going to make Richard III a bad guy or a good guy, you pretty much know how the rest of the novel is going to go. Bad guy--sighs of relief at the end, Richard III kills princes. Good guy--mourning at the end, someone else, or no one, kills Princes.

What I'd like to see is more Wars of the Roses novels "starring" the other major players during that time--Warwick the Kingmaker, for instance, or the Duchess of York, or William Hastings. I'd particularly like to see a novel about William Hastings, because he was treated so badly in a recent pro-Richard novel I read. In it, he had a virgin peasant girl abducted, taken to a brothel, and drugged so that he could rape her. The narrator stated that this was a common practice for him. There's no historical evidence for this that I know of--Hastings, like his friend King Edward IV, was known as a womanizer, but that's hardly the same thing as being a serial rapist. The episode seemed designed solely to make Hastings such an unsympathetic character that the reader wouldn't hold it against Richard later when he executed Hastings without trial on very dubious grounds. So I think Hastings is very much in need of a novel (and for that matter, a biographical study). Maybe I should try it, if no one else will!

Anyway, I've switched to The Spanish Bride by Laurien Gardner, which I understand is a pseudonym for various authors doing a series of books on Henry VIII's wives. This one is about Catherine of Aragon. So far, I'm liking it--it switches back and forth in time, giving the reader a nice perspective on how the aging characters (the narrator, who's fictional as far as I know, is one of Catherine's ladies) have changed over the years. After that, I just might go wild and move into the 16th century, or perhaps out of England altogether for a little while.

What I'm drumming my heels impatiently awaiting these days is the publication of Ian Mortimer's biography of Edward III. I like the one by Michael Packe, but it'd be good to see another one as well. And it'd also be nice to see one on his queen, Philippa.

Historical Fiction Haters (Rant O' the Week)

Since writing and publishing my own novel, I've noticed that there are people who hate historical fiction. Mind you, I don't mean people who simply aren't interested in reading it. That's their preference, and I respect it. I myself have no interest in science fiction or fantasy, for example, but I don't have any animosity toward these genres or toward their readers or writers. I wish I did like such books, as a matter of fact--there'd be much fewer days when I can't find anything to read.

But the historical fiction haters I've encountered are a rather different breed. They regard historical fiction as dishonest and duplicitous, a deliberate attempt to distort history. (Could I have gotten some more words that begin with "D" in that sentence? Probably, but I'm feeling lazy.)

Part of this, I suspect, is a confusion of historical fiction with historical romance--an assumption that historical fiction is simply an excuse to dress people up in fancy clothes, put them in a castle or a mansion, and let them go at it like bunnies for 300 pages or so. It doesn't help that back in the 1970's and 1980's, mainstream historical fiction was often marketed with covers that appealed to the historical romance reader--ladies with flowing blond or black (never brown) hair being clutched by bare-chested men who often appeared to have spent more time at the hairdresser than the ladies had. Rather than take the trouble to distinguish mainstream historical fiction from the worst historical romances--the type where medieval heroines have names like "Amber" or "Jade"--the historical fiction haters lump them all together. Sheer laziness.

But a lot of the animosity felt by the historical fiction haters is the result of a paternalistic attitude toward the reader. Historical fiction should not be read, the line goes, because the poor benighted reader won't be able to know what's based on historical fact and what's purely the product of the writer's imagination. Now it's true that there are some people who have difficulty discerning fact from fiction--someone must believe those supermarket tabloids, and TV actors who play doctors used to get letters asking them for medical advice. But to assume that all readers are credulous to this degree is to show an enormous contempt for the reading public.

Of course, some people will read a historical novel and never take the trouble to find out what was "made up" and what wasn't. (The same, of course, is true for moviegoers--there's a sizable part of the population that is convinced, from the movie Braveheart, that William Wallace was the father of Edward III. He wasn't, folks. Do two simple things on Google: search for William Wallace's date of death and Edward III's date of birth.) That's unfortunate. But historical fiction is exactly that--fiction. The reader's been put on warning by that classification that some or all of the incidents and dialogue in the book may be purely the product of imagination. If he or she doesn't care to investigate further, that's his failure, not the writer's.

In researching my own novel, I read a great deal of nonfiction books, and I found errors in quite a few of them--most of them minor. I also came across a Ph.D. dissertation so sloppily researched that I could not believe the author was awarded her doctorate. People were given titles they never held; people were confused with their relatives. One man was described as being out of favor at court and therefore "keeping a low profile." Well, he was indeed keeping a low profile--six feet under, to be precise. He was dead at the time of the events described by the author.

Errors in nonfiction are unavoidable; authors get tired, get notes confused, make typographical errors. (To say nothing of so-called nonfiction writers who deliberately mislead readers, like the egregious James Frey.) But the reader of nonfiction, unlike the reader of fiction, has a right to expect accuracy, and unless he's widely read on a subject or the error is so glaring as to be obvious, he's unlikely to catch errors or even to be looking out for them. So if I took the attitude of the historical fiction haters, I'd warn people off nonfiction--all nonfiction--since it too has the potential to mislead readers. That would be quite silly, wouldn't it?

No girl was ever ruined by reading a book. Remember that.

My Favorite Dickens Novels

In honor of the new BBC production of Bleak House finally making its way across the Atlantic (well, it hasn't been that long, but it feels like it), I'm blogging today on my favorite Dickens novels. There's a tie at the top, with 1 being the best score:

1. Bleak House. Every time I read this novel I find something new to admire about it. Dickens's range in it is shown most clearly by the fact that the funniest scene in the novel (if you like black humor), the tea party at the Snagbys' house, and the most tragic one, the death of Jo the crossing sweeper, both involve some of the same characters. There are very few authors who can blend comedy and tragedy in a single work. Shakespeare is one, Dickens another.

1. Our Mutual Friend. Maybe not quite as good, from a purely critical standpoint, as Bleak House, but still tied for first place as far as I'm concerned. It has screamingly funny scenes, like the one where Dickens describes a ragged school and its highly unenthusiastic pupils, thrilling scenes, like Lizzie's rescue of Eugene, and touching scenes, like the marriage at the end.

3. David Copperfield. I don't think there's another novel that describes the influence of other people, good and bad, on one person's life so nicely.

4. Great Expectations. If you can read the scene where Pip goes to see Wopsle play Hamlet without screaming with laughter, you need antidepressants.

5. Little Dorrit. The last line in this novel is one of the nicest ever written.

6.A Tale of Two Cities. The first Dickens novel I ever read, on a subway going from Manhattan to Brooklyn. I ought to send a thank-you card to the guy who didn't want his copy and gave it to me.

7.Nicholas Nickleby. In all honesty, I probably like the RSC adaptation of the book as much if not more than the book itself, but that's a lot of liking either way.

8.The Pickwick Papers. A little too episodic for me to place higher, but still very funny. Its scenes in debtors' prison are a nice rehearsal for Dickens's later works.

9.Dombey and Son. I feel a little bad about ranking this so low, since there's much in it to admire. I had a feminist professor who analyzed its gender aspects half to death, which may account for my failure to warm to it more.

10.Hard Times. I like it better than The Old Curiosity Shop and Barnaby Rudge, but I still think of this book as a Dickens novel that's had all the life drained out of it. Still, it's worth reading, especially in conjunction with Elizabeth Gaskell's Ruth, which has certain similarities to it with regard to family relationships. This novel was the darling of anti-Thatcherites during the 1980's and 1990's--one TV adaptation even had Sissy Jupe (or Louisa?) anachronistically denouncing the Conservative Party, which was a very different animal from the Utilitarians mocked in the novel.

Historical fiction update: Been sort of slow in the reading department lately, but I finally received Rhoda Edwards' novel about Richard III, The Broken Sword. It uses the device of multiple narrators that was used in Rosemary Jarman's We Speak No Treason, but The Broken Sword is the better book by far, without the purple prose and romance-novel elements that marred We Speak No Treason. Its characterizations are good, and the author has a wry sense of humor that gives a refreshing note to the usual strife of the Wars of the Roses.

Top 10 Anne Tyler Novels

Since I've been writing historical fiction lately, I've been reading a lot of it too, but my favorite living novelist is not a historical novelist, but Anne Tyler. Here (1 being the best) are my favorite novels by her:

1. Saint Maybe. When a careless remark by high school student Ian leads to the deaths of his brother and his sister-in-law, he turns to religion to deal with his guilt. This, and his penance of taking over the rearing of the couple's children, alienates him from his old friends. This could have been a gloomy book in some authors' hands (picture it in those of Joyce Carol Oates!), but Tyler makes this story poignant and often hilarious, without ever mocking Ian's genuine religious faith.

2. Breathing Lessons. Extroverted, impulsive Maggie and introverted, rigid Ira, married for decades, drive to a friend's funeral. On the way home, Maggie takes the opportunity to visit her son's ex-wife and decides, against all reason and probability, to reconcile the couple. The novel flashes back to Maggie and Ira's courtship, their son's marriage, and the breakup of the son's marriage. It's funny, poignant (one has to use this word a lot with Tyler), and sometimes heartbreaking.

3. A Patchwork Planet. Ex-delinquent Barnaby, from a wealthy, philanthropic Baltimore family, is a trusted employee of a business that does errands for the old or incapacitated, but his family hasn't made it easy for him to put the past behind him, and his prim new girlfriend complicates matters.

4.Ladder of Years. Mourning her elderly father's death, attracted by a younger man, and feeling unappreciated by her family and irritated with her husband, Delia disappears during a family vacation and starts life anew in a small town. But her job as a housekeeper to a handsome high school principal entangles her in the problems of another family, while her own won't let her go that easily.

5. Back When We Were Grownups. A middle-aged widow tries to reconnect with her younger, more serious, studious self.

6. Morgan's Passing. Married to a wealthy wife, middle-aged Morgan has little to do but hold a busy-work job in one of her family's stores, so he passes the time assuming other identities. Along the way, he meets a young couple, Emily and Leon, whose baby he delivers and whose spare lifestyle entrances him. Then he falls in love with Emily.

7.Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant. Pearl's husband goes off on a sales trip and never returns, leaving angry Pearl to rear the couple's three children, who cope with their father's absence and their mother's sometimes erratic behavior in entirely different ways. This is darker than many Tyler novels--Pearl's behavior borders on child abuse--but it's an ultimately hopeful one, with characters who can learn from the past rather than being enslaved by it.

8.The Accidental Tourist. Probably the best known of Tyler's novels because of its movie adaptation. When the murder of his son destroys his marriage, Macon finds solace in Muriel, a much younger woman who takes both him and his Welsh corgi in hand.

9.The Amateur Marriage. Tyler's latest novel (the next is forthcoming this spring). Though this is not Tyler at her best--I never connected very well with the main characters, one of whom Tyler takes the strange step of killing offstage--it's still worth reading, especially for the opening scenes in World-War-II-era Baltimore. Tyler has the endearing habit of sometimes recycling characters from one novel to another, and Gina Meredith, a sulky adolescent in Morgan's Passing, turns up as a bossy spouse in this one.

10.A Slipping-Down Life. In general, I don't care for Tyler's earliest novels, which tend toward the Southern Eccentric tradition of novel-writing and can get cloying. This, however, is one of the better ones. In a small town in 1960's North Carolina, overweight Evie, a shy high-school student, develops a crush on a small-time rock musician and ends up as his wife after carving his initials on her forehead to gain his attention. This was recently made into a movie, where for reasons best known to Hollywood, teenage Evie was turned into a woman in her thirties.