Some thoughts on the subject of historical fiction and accuracy

The topic of historical accuracy is no stranger to those of us that adore historical fiction, and accuracy takes on an entirely new dimension when a book deals with actual events and actual people. After all, it's one thing to write a story about the escapades of a fictional 16th century noblewoman kidnapped by bandits, and quite another to pen a fictional diary from the perspective of Anne Boleyn-- or Marie Antoinette. A real person's life, real events, real stories... all have certain established timelines and facts. A fictional noblewoman can have a life that is entirely invented by the author's imagination, but Marie Antoinette was married to Louis-Auguste, came to France in 1770 and lived at Versailles.

An important distinction when talking about historical accuracy in fiction is the difference between a "lie" and a "mistake." For this, I turn to an excellent explanation from guardian.co.uk:

"In describing the interactions of real individuals, one has to invent reactions or the character is just two-dimensional, and never develops. In creating good historical fiction, it is essential to tell lies. A clear distinction needs to be made here between telling lies and making mistakes. A lie is intentional and purposeful; a mistake is accidental ... "

A mistake, then, would be saying that Louis XVI is the son of Louis XV. Mistakes are typically the result of (a lack of) research, from receiving misinformation, or simply something not caught by an editor.

A lie would be sending Marie Antoinette off on an adventure in Paris as the Bastille is falling, or creating a conversation between Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette about a particularly lovely blue sky. These fictional events are intentionally written, and not accidental on the part of the author. Lies are typically invented because the author wants to make the narrative flow more smoothly, add more dimension to the characters, or explore something new.

The line between lies and mistakes can sometimes be murky. For example, if an author omits Sophie, the last born of Marie Antoinette's children, is it a mistake resulting from poor research, or an intentional lie intended to improve their story? This is one reason I appreciate author's notes that discuss the accuracy of a book, because I feel it helps the reader get a better idea of why certain inaccuracies are in the book - even if, in the end, the reader does not feel the inaccuracies are acceptable or justified.

And when is inaccuracy justified? As cliche as it sounds, it's what can be concluded from reading countless discussions about the subject: "It just depends." There is no right or wrong answer. It truly just depends on the reader's personal preferences. I know some readers who wouldn't mind if Marie Antoinette was written as a Paris Hilton clone who chewed bubble gum and stuck it under her cows at the Trianon, as long as they liked the story. I know some readers who don't bat an eye if Marie Antoinette is sporting foot-high hairdos in 1791. And I know some readers who would find all of the above unacceptable, no matter what.

Personally, when I read fiction about Marie Antoinette, her family, or other real people involved in the French Revolution... I want to read about those people and those events. By this, I mean that I don't want to read about a character who bears no resemblance to (what we know of) Marie Antoinette except for her name. I want to feel that the interpretation of her character is based in history, and not just based on whatever the author felt like at the time. I enjoy the MGM film Marie Antoinette starring Norma Shearer because I feel that Shearer captured a special sort of majesty and courage in the second act of the film, and it doesn't matter to me that the costumes are very "Hollywood" or that Axel Fersen pops up at the Conciergerie. In that same vein, I did not enjoy The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette by Carolly Erickson because I did not see a trace of "Marie Antoinette" in the novel. I feel that the author sacrificed far too much of real history for her own inventions, and lost sight of the queen's life along the way.

I've been feeling much more lenient about historical accuracy in details as time has gone on. I probably won't enjoy many stories if I let myself get caught up in every "but that's inaccurate!" that I manage to catch. I still bristle if Madame Elisabeth is omitted or Marie Antoinette moons over Axel Fersen in the Temple Tower after her husband passes... but in the end, I want to enjoy any story that captures at least some part of the queen's spirit -- regardless of the accuracy of her hairstyle.

Book Review: A Concise History of the French Revolution by Sylvia Neely

The trouble with some concise histories, short histories and general overviews is that the author tends to skip and jump between events that they find interesting at the expense of providing the reader with a real basic overview of a particular event. While they might be a delightful read, they don't truly fit the bill of a "concise history." Thankfully, Sylvia Neely's trim A Concise History of the French Revolution avoids this shortcoming by providing a general and fairly no-nonsense overview of the French Revolution, its primary causes, figures, and events.
 
Neely's conclusions on the nature of the revolution may be new to readers who are more familiar with the traditional outlook on the events of 1789, which are usually boiled down to a simple "the peasants rose against the monarchy." A Concise History, however, places the events of 1789 in a different context by exploring how the nature of the class system in France and how the nature of that class system, along with a failing tax system and burdening national debt, contributed to the initial revolutionary actions of 1789. I did not always agree with some of Neely's conclusions but the book is well footnoted and, in my opinion, an excellent addition to any history-lover's library.


I would highly recommend this book to anyone looking for an introductory read about the French Revolution or for anyone interested in 18th century France.

Book Review: Marie Antoinette "Madame Deficit" by Liz Hockinson

This review is based on a review copy I requested and received earlier this week.


The Thinking Girl's Treasury of Dastardly Dames is a new series of youth books profiling several 'notorious' historical women, presenting the readers with their lives, times, and deeds - in order to allow the reader to decide for themselves: Just how wicked were they?

Marie Antoinette "Madame Deficit" by Liz Hockinson profiles Marie Antoinette, who was and continues to be profiled as the haughty queen who callously stated, "Let the!m eat cake!" when told the French peasants were starving. Although I have read similar "decide for yourself" youth books about other historical figures, this is the first time I've read one about Marie Antoinette.

Marie Antoinette "Madame Deficit" has an interesting layout that utilizes a combination of text, historical images, photography and original artwork. The text is laid out clearly and was very easy to read. I was pleasantly surprised at the number of historical images and photographs in the book, because many of the images aren't typically used in other youth non-fiction books about the queen. It was a refreshing change to see, for example, the painting of Marie Antoinette seated at a harp, entertaining courtiers in her chambers. The original images in the book are quite lovely without glamorizing Marie Antoinette's appearance, which was also a refreshing change.

Liz Hockinson's text flows easily and younger readers should have no trouble following the main thread of the book, or the numerous side stories and tidbits scattered throughout. I wish the book had presented just a bit more of  the positive side of Marie Antoinette, however Hockinson did dispel many of the more common myths, such as the utterance of "Let them eat cake." The author also brought up several key points about a French queen's relation to politics, hostility towards Austrians at the French court, the unfairness of the French tax system and Marie Antoinette's reaction to motherhood--all of which I think young readers will definitely benefit from.

I recommend this book for parents with children who love history - royal history, in particular! - as well as anyone who enjoys a nice layout and a quick read. The book is aimed at ages 9 to 12, and is due to be released in late August or early September.

Book Review: Farewell Toinette by Bertita Harding

Farewell Toinette by Bertita Harding is about an evental rest stop  by Marie Antoinette and her royal retinue at a castle-turned-hotel on the way to France. The castle, which is disgused as a regular hotel when the duke who owns it hears the Joseph II will never stay at royal lodgings, also becomes host to a band of traveling gypsies, a prince in disguise, and - it's rumored - the ghost of a woman who was buried alive with the bodies of the children she murdered. Joseph II is determined to remain as incognito as possible, Marie Antoinette is fretting over her upcoming marriage, and the duke of the castle juggles all of his guests while worrying about the anniversary of a death which is said to bring bad luck, bad times, and a vengeful spirit. 

I stumbled upon this book by accident one day when searching for news articles about the queen, and it really is a quaint little book. The writing is that sort of old, charming storyteller narrative - neither particularly detailed or particularly bland but colorful - and it makes the book perfect for a rainy day or long car ride. The history of the book is rather dubious, especially once you get into mysterious gypsies and haunted spirits, but there's nothing that's terribly offensive or off-putting.

I recommend this book for English collections about Marie Antoinette and her time period, as well as for anyone looking for something a little different and less popular to read.