HISTORICAL romance vs. historical ROMANCE
I was recently talking with a group of fellow historical writers and was pretty much flabbergasted to find that I was the only one who finds the seemingly endless supply of anachronistic sleepwear bothersome. One writer was willing to go to the mattresses in defense of the red silk nighty. She said that even though she knows it’s “wrong”, it says “sexy” to
a modern reader in a way that nothing else can.
I find the entire concept depressing. The idea that accurate history is somehow not sexy enough, that it must be embellished and modernized in order to appeal to readers, verges on the insulting. I find it especially distressing that people would choose such specifically egregious errors to latch on to (it’s as though they’re throwing up their hands ecstatically and saying Sophia Coppola was right, what readers really want is a modern girl in a Halloween costume and high tops; stop jamming history down their throats!).
To me, it seems ridiculous to even bother writing “historical fiction” (be it romance, mystery, whathaveyou) if the “historical” part is optional. I know, I know . . . in Romancelandia a lot of the history has become optional: our characters are abnormally clean, have perfect teeth, and somehow our heroes never have the ridiculous haircuts that were in vogue for their age (has anyone ever written or read a medieval hero with a bowl cut?). Is a man with Fabio-locks in the Middle Ages any less offensive than a red silk nighty in Regency England? I think they’re both problematic, both a betrayal of the entire point of the genre, but clearly my perception of the genre as HISTORICAL romance is not universal. My friends, I think, view it as historical ROMANCE (I’m guessing these types of books are the ones so often labeled “wallpaper historicals” in reviews and reader discussions; the label is used pejoratively, but clearly their strong showings on “the lists” backs up my friends in their assertion that readers like this sort of thing).
Today I’m going to take a look at the different types of anachronisms I see in books, and because I think it unfair to point the finger at others, I’m going to use my own books and mistakes as fodder.
WORDS & LANGUAGE
There are a lot of different ways in which words and language might be anachronistic. Firstly there are words for concepts, ideas, and things which simply didn’t exist. I can say my hero is “enchanted” by the heroine, but I shouldn't say he is “mesmerized” (the word comes from the name of a specific man and he had not yet come to fame during the period in which my books are set).
Now, to further muddy the waters, lets say I’ve shifted back in time and/or moved my book to a non-English s
etting. Is it now ok to say he’s mesmerized? I would argue that it might be, since the writer has an entirely different set of rules. Now it’s even more about making the dialogue *feel* authentic to the setting and characters, but the burden of being limited to historically accurate words is basically gone. By no means is this an easier challenge for a writer however. In fact, it might be harder.
There are also words that *feel* period but aren’t. For example, I think “hellion” and “mount” (as a synonym for horse) both feel appropriate to the Georgian/Regency era, but they aren’t. They are both Victorian. Conversely, there are words (or names) that are period, but somehow feel anachronistic: the name Skyscraper for a horse. It’s just so wrong, and I’d never use it in a book, and yet, it’s perfectly period: Skyscraper won the Derby Stakes in 1789.
CONCEPTS & IDEAS
This can be a hard one. So many of the things we say and do everyday are based on the technology we’ve grown up surrounded by: Photographic memory, replay, steamrolled, derailed. There’s also all the self-help, introspective stuff we get from psychology (oh the ego of the man!), not to mention the scientific discoveries (honestly, he behaves like a Neanderthal!). So many ways in which we think about ourselves, others, and the way we experience the world are modern. Finding a historically appropriate way to express the same idea can be a challenge.
THINGS & FACTS
This can be both the hardest and the easiest thing to get right.
It’s hard because in order to get it right, you have to do a lot of research, and the odds are high that even if you do, some basic thing will trip you up: Scones, for example. Did you know that scones are Victorian? I surely didn’t. What’s more basic and English than a scone? *sigh* Long after my second book came out (where the heroine happily eats scones for breakfast) I discovered that a “sconce” in 18th century England is a bannock (a hard, fried oat cake), not a soft, fluffy muffin-type thing. Mea culpa, mea culpa.
But it’s also the easiest one to get right, at least within reason. Some things are basic, or factual. The law is the law. Forms of address haven’t changed. New World food stuffs simply didn’t exist in Europe before the end of the 15th century.
This is the category that our red silk nighty goes in. It’s not as if even the quickest survey of historical sleepwear wouldn’t show you that it’s white linen, white linen and yet more white linen (and it’ a basic t-shaped garment, not a Frederick’s of Hollywood slut-gown with lace and slits). So, getting this detail wrong shows one of two things: either the writer literally did NO research, or this is a willfully chosen anachronism (which I find hard to overlook and forgive). In this same category, you find the missing stays/corsets, the Regency heroine’s chocolate bon bons, medieval knights eating potatoes while their flowing Fabio-locks swirl about their shoulders, bastards inheriting English peerages, earls who are addressed as ‘you grace” . . .
MADE UP THINGS
There are some things which authors make up which are not anachronisms, but do seem to freak out many would-be authors because they are supposedly “afraid to get it wrong”. Here I’m talking about things like titles and businesses. Endless amounts of time gets spent (dare I say wasted?) on the various discussion loops I’m on batting these things around. How we pick titles and names for our characters seems to mystify—and frighten—people. Even worse, some writers are actually afraid to make up a small detail like a shop! If I need a shop and I don’t know of a famous example, I *gasp* MAKE IT UP! And guess what, I’m not damaging history or the authenticity of my book one jot by doing so. We all make up characters and give them imaginary titles and estates and family histories (sometimes even making them related to real people). Given this breach of reality, I have no problem simply making up an inn, or a book shop, or a tailor.
IN CONCLUSION
Perhaps I’m being ridiculous, but the willfully chosen error just gets under my skin and itches like mad! There’s something demeaning about it, something dismissive. Something about it says: It was too much trouble to find a way to make my vision/story work within the framework of history, and rather than alter my vision/story, I chose to alter history instead.
Am I insane? Am I being too picky? I understand that mistakes will happen, errors will slip though, but should I also be more accepting of the willful (or blatantly sloppy) anachronism? Perhaps I simply don’t see eye to eye with other authors about which details matter and which ones don’t? Are HISTORICAL romances and historical ROMANCES simply entirely different types of books? I’m still not sure, but I’m beginning to guess that my goal of creating HISTORICAL romances might not be shared by some of my friends . . . and maybe I just need to learn to be ok with that.
What do you all think? Are there really two distinct types of historical romance, and if so, does it matter to you to know which type you’re getting?
a modern reader in a way that nothing else can.I find the entire concept depressing. The idea that accurate history is somehow not sexy enough, that it must be embellished and modernized in order to appeal to readers, verges on the insulting. I find it especially distressing that people would choose such specifically egregious errors to latch on to (it’s as though they’re throwing up their hands ecstatically and saying Sophia Coppola was right, what readers really want is a modern girl in a Halloween costume and high tops; stop jamming history down their throats!).
To me, it seems ridiculous to even bother writing “historical fiction” (be it romance, mystery, whathaveyou) if the “historical” part is optional. I know, I know . . . in Romancelandia a lot of the history has become optional: our characters are abnormally clean, have perfect teeth, and somehow our heroes never have the ridiculous haircuts that were in vogue for their age (has anyone ever written or read a medieval hero with a bowl cut?). Is a man with Fabio-locks in the Middle Ages any less offensive than a red silk nighty in Regency England? I think they’re both problematic, both a betrayal of the entire point of the genre, but clearly my perception of the genre as HISTORICAL romance is not universal. My friends, I think, view it as historical ROMANCE (I’m guessing these types of books are the ones so often labeled “wallpaper historicals” in reviews and reader discussions; the label is used pejoratively, but clearly their strong showings on “the lists” backs up my friends in their assertion that readers like this sort of thing).
Today I’m going to take a look at the different types of anachronisms I see in books, and because I think it unfair to point the finger at others, I’m going to use my own books and mistakes as fodder.
WORDS & LANGUAGE
There are a lot of different ways in which words and language might be anachronistic. Firstly there are words for concepts, ideas, and things which simply didn’t exist. I can say my hero is “enchanted” by the heroine, but I shouldn't say he is “mesmerized” (the word comes from the name of a specific man and he had not yet come to fame during the period in which my books are set).
Now, to further muddy the waters, lets say I’ve shifted back in time and/or moved my book to a non-English s
etting. Is it now ok to say he’s mesmerized? I would argue that it might be, since the writer has an entirely different set of rules. Now it’s even more about making the dialogue *feel* authentic to the setting and characters, but the burden of being limited to historically accurate words is basically gone. By no means is this an easier challenge for a writer however. In fact, it might be harder.There are also words that *feel* period but aren’t. For example, I think “hellion” and “mount” (as a synonym for horse) both feel appropriate to the Georgian/Regency era, but they aren’t. They are both Victorian. Conversely, there are words (or names) that are period, but somehow feel anachronistic: the name Skyscraper for a horse. It’s just so wrong, and I’d never use it in a book, and yet, it’s perfectly period: Skyscraper won the Derby Stakes in 1789.
CONCEPTS & IDEAS
This can be a hard one. So many of the things we say and do everyday are based on the technology we’ve grown up surrounded by: Photographic memory, replay, steamrolled, derailed. There’s also all the self-help, introspective stuff we get from psychology (oh the ego of the man!), not to mention the scientific discoveries (honestly, he behaves like a Neanderthal!). So many ways in which we think about ourselves, others, and the way we experience the world are modern. Finding a historically appropriate way to express the same idea can be a challenge.
THINGS & FACTS
This can be both the hardest and the easiest thing to get right.
It’s hard because in order to get it right, you have to do a lot of research, and the odds are high that even if you do, some basic thing will trip you up: Scones, for example. Did you know that scones are Victorian? I surely didn’t. What’s more basic and English than a scone? *sigh* Long after my second book came out (where the heroine happily eats scones for breakfast) I discovered that a “sconce” in 18th century England is a bannock (a hard, fried oat cake), not a soft, fluffy muffin-type thing. Mea culpa, mea culpa.
But it’s also the easiest one to get right, at least within reason. Some things are basic, or factual. The law is the law. Forms of address haven’t changed. New World food stuffs simply didn’t exist in Europe before the end of the 15th century.
This is the category that our red silk nighty goes in. It’s not as if even the quickest survey of historical sleepwear wouldn’t show you that it’s white linen, white linen and yet more white linen (and it’ a basic t-shaped garment, not a Frederick’s of Hollywood slut-gown with lace and slits). So, getting this detail wrong shows one of two things: either the writer literally did NO research, or this is a willfully chosen anachronism (which I find hard to overlook and forgive). In this same category, you find the missing stays/corsets, the Regency heroine’s chocolate bon bons, medieval knights eating potatoes while their flowing Fabio-locks swirl about their shoulders, bastards inheriting English peerages, earls who are addressed as ‘you grace” . . .
MADE UP THINGS
There are some things which authors make up which are not anachronisms, but do seem to freak out many would-be authors because they are supposedly “afraid to get it wrong”. Here I’m talking about things like titles and businesses. Endless amounts of time gets spent (dare I say wasted?) on the various discussion loops I’m on batting these things around. How we pick titles and names for our characters seems to mystify—and frighten—people. Even worse, some writers are actually afraid to make up a small detail like a shop! If I need a shop and I don’t know of a famous example, I *gasp* MAKE IT UP! And guess what, I’m not damaging history or the authenticity of my book one jot by doing so. We all make up characters and give them imaginary titles and estates and family histories (sometimes even making them related to real people). Given this breach of reality, I have no problem simply making up an inn, or a book shop, or a tailor.
IN CONCLUSION
Perhaps I’m being ridiculous, but the willfully chosen error just gets under my skin and itches like mad! There’s something demeaning about it, something dismissive. Something about it says: It was too much trouble to find a way to make my vision/story work within the framework of history, and rather than alter my vision/story, I chose to alter history instead.
Am I insane? Am I being too picky? I understand that mistakes will happen, errors will slip though, but should I also be more accepting of the willful (or blatantly sloppy) anachronism? Perhaps I simply don’t see eye to eye with other authors about which details matter and which ones don’t? Are HISTORICAL romances and historical ROMANCES simply entirely different types of books? I’m still not sure, but I’m beginning to guess that my goal of creating HISTORICAL romances might not be shared by some of my friends . . . and maybe I just need to learn to be ok with that.
What do you all think? Are there really two distinct types of historical romance, and if so, does it matter to you to know which type you’re getting?
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