History Wasn’t White. Why Should Historical Fiction Be?
By Greer Macallister | May 6, 2019 |
Painting of Dido Elizabeth Belle (l) and her cousin Elizabeth Murray (r), circa 1778
I start this call to action with a confession. I began writing my first historical novel, The Magician’s Lie, around 2009. After multiple rewrites, working with my agent and an outside editor, we finally sold the novel to Sourcebooks in 2013. After more work and more rewriting, the book was published in January 2015. I estimate I must have done no fewer than 10 complete revisions, in which I overhauled nearly every aspect of the story: plot, character, timeline, scene breaks, chapter breaks, language, perspective, and countless other elements of the novel.
And at no point during that process do I ever remember thinking, You know, maybe there should be a character in this book who isn’t white.
Now, this seems vaguely ridiculous. White privilege is a reason, not an excuse, and as an American-born white writer I have benefited from that privilege. I’ve had the luxury of not thinking about things like, oh, whether this aspect of my writing reflected either today’s world or the world in which my story was set. I haven’t had to consider whether agents or editors will be interested in stories about people who look like me: overwhelmingly, they look like me.
If you’ve been following publishing at all, you probably know there’s an active, powerful #ownvoices movement advocating for stories in which the protagonist and the author share a marginalized identity. And that’s awesome.
What I want to advocate for here is something different. Not every writer is equipped to take on a book with a marginalized protagonist; not everyone has that kind of story to tell. As allies, white writers can support, promote, purchase and read stories that bring racial and ethnic diversity to the fore. Same goes for stories from other marginalized communities and identities. Find them, love them, talk about them. It’s all the same stuff we ask our readers to do for our stories; it’s the least we can do to encourage stories we want to see in the world.
So if I’m not advocating writing stories from communities outside the mainstream, what do I want historical fiction writers who look like me to do?
More work. More research. Look, I know there’s already a lot. We’re spending hours looking up the menu at Delmonico’s in 1905 and finding exactly the right smart cloche for our fashion-forward 1923 flapper to slap onto her head. We’re digging up slang, addresses, music, architecture and more. The best historical fiction pulls the reader into a world so well-drawn it feels like we’re there with the characters, seeing and tasting and touching that world.
And if you haven’t considered that not every face in that world you’re writing about is white, it’s time to consider it.
I use “white” as shorthand in that sentence but it’s about far more than race, obviously. Neurodiversity. Disability. Gender expression. So much more. People with marginalized identities have always existed; history books and Hollywood have created the illusion that they didn’t. Especially in the past few years, historical fiction has become a key tool to make the untold stories of women of the past more visible. In that same vein, we have a responsibility to help counteract the misconception of “how things used to be” when things were really never that way at all.
Again, I’m not saying you have to write a book with a marginalized main character or put a certain number of characters of color, LGBTQ+ characters, etc. in your book. No one’s awarding medals in the category Most Diverse Supporting Characters, especially not if they would just be exactly like the white character you would have otherwise written.
But when you’re researching your era, dig deeper. Are you writing Western romance with all-white cowboys? Are all the soldiers in your ancient Greek epic missing their wives and complaining about celibacy? Are all the characters in your book about a British household in late 18th-century India only either a) Indian or b) British?
I don’t have all the answers; I mostly have more questions. But asking questions is part of how we move forward. As writers and readers, and especially for those of you who write historical fiction, I hope you’re asking yourself these questions too.
What historical novels have you read lately that did a great job incorporating well-drawn, compelling characters from outside the mainstream?
Raised in the Midwest, Greer Macallister earned her MFA in creative writing from American University. Her historical novels have been named Book of the Month, Indie Next, LibraryReads, Target Book Club, and Amazon Best Book of the Month picks and optioned for film and television. Her latest novel, The Thirteenth Husband, is inspired by Aimee Crocker, the Paris Hilton of the Gilded Age. Macallister also writes the ongoing Five Queendoms epic fantasy series as G.R. Macallister. A regular contributor to Writer Unboxed and the Chicago Review of Books, she lives with her family in Boston, MA. www.greermacallister.com
Hi Greer,
I’m a (white) historical novelist writing mainly about the Civil War, and I struggle with these issues every day — so I was glad to see your post.
I don’t see it as an option to write books full of nothing but white characters — it would feel empty and lifeless. And yet I fear privilege interferes with clarity, and makes it that much harder to imagine the view from a marginalized place.
So it comes back to research. Research, research, and more research. Which I do imperfectly and forever fear I could have done better. Should have done better.
I will fail at doing this well — trying to write from the perspective of people who’s lives were so different from mine. And yet I’ll also fail at all kinds of other things. It doesn’t mean we don’t have to try.
Peter Ho Davies said it well in a keynote I heard him give. He said it all comes down to writing with humility.
I try to remember that as I face each day’s struggles to imagine every viewpoint.
Thanks for the post,
Jodi
Jodi, “Privilege interferes with clarity” is such a great way to put it. It’s not that we can’t do a good job. We can! It’s just really, really hard. And worth the effort, I think, as you clearly do.
The best WWI story I have ever read is Three Day Road by Joseph Boyden, in which we see the war and its very personal aftermath from the perspective of a Canadian Indian (Cree) sharpshooter rather than a white American, British, French, or German soldier. I’ve never read anything that so perfectly captured the emotions, confusion, or setting of that war than that book.
And I believe Joseph Boyden, while he had close personal connections and did a lot of one-on-one research with members of that particular tribe, is not native himself. In fact there has been controversy over his ancestry, because he has an adopted sibling who is Ojibway and has identified with closely that community. He’s been criticized for that, especially because he has accepted awards meant for indigenous writers.
Controversy aside, the book is excellent and shows a diverse cast of characters for a WWI novel.
Erin, Fascinating! I’ve never heard of this book, and I love your perspective on both the book itself and the controversy around it. In all areas of entertainment these days the maker of a work is considered part of the work in some way, and up for critique in a way they weren’t before. Which is good: bring the facts to light, and let readers/viewers/etc decide if and how they’re going to re-interpret the work. Thanks for weighing in!
Well, it could also be the “write what you know” bit, too. I know that practically every book that has a Jewish character as one of the main protagonists that aren’t written by a Jewish author, invariably get something about being Jewish horribly wrong. They try too hard to include things, and then their “resources” fail them miserably. (I wish I could get a gig checking Jewish references in novels!) But there should be nothing stopping someone from adding prominent characters who aren’t of their own race/religion just like male and female authors don’t write only characters who are of their own gender. And some do… it is somewhat rare, but you can find some. In fact, I can think of 2-3 books like that. We just need more. And also, I think that this will also change when publishers diversify the authors they publish as well.
Davida, All good points! Yes, writing outside our experience and comfort zone makes it easy to make mistakes. And I’m sure that’s why a lot of writers choose not to do it at all — better not to do it than do it badly, goes the thinking. And yet if all writers thought that way we wouldn’t have books like Rebecca Makkai’s The Great Believers. So it can be done, it just… it takes a LOT of work.
Oh, and yes! Publishers need to diversify who they publish, period.
Greer, from where I sit in NYC publishing, I see publishers working VERY hard to diversify both in staffing and in the works they publish.
Publishing has always been an industry favoring women both in what’s published and who publishes it. Today, it’s diverse in many more ways. That’s true at my agency, too, both in the–now ten–agents who work with me an in the authors we represent.
If anything, I see publishing in the forefront. Long way to go, obviously, but also far to have come from the white old days.
I don’t write historical fiction, but I do write fiction. So growing up on the far southside of Chicago meant that my experience with African Americans was rare. And yet as I began to write I realized the importance of writing about those personal experiences, probing my emotions about them: the women who cleaned my mother’s home; the students at my high school and then, YES! the students I taught at Bloom Township High School in Chicago Heights. Those were amazing wonderful years and my students opened me up. I have blogged about such experiences from the race riot in our school, to the personal experiences my students shared with me. But it’s never enough. Reading diverse authors is another answer. Will my own character of color in my novel walk onto the page with reality, with assurance?
White dude speaking, with caution. One mistake I see made by white fiction writers when trying to be inclusive, is to “include” marginalized characters. Sidekicks. Best friends. Team members. Walk on and secondary types.
Anything but protagonists. Changing our world’s perceptions of history–really, reality–involves more than just research and awareness. It means seeing the world without white-centric minds, and I’m not sure that white writers are in all cases the best equipped to do that.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m for the attempt, done with sensitivity. I’m against the absurd reduction of male authors writing only male characters, say. Where the cry of cultural appropriation acts to keep writers imaginations in boxes, I disagree.
That said, this is the age for fresh voices. I’ve been working for that, we’re getting them, and I’m thrilled. Why not make room, not only on publishers lists but in making space on pages for those who have lived, see and think as I do not and–perhaps–cannot?
Stay in one’s lane? We can’t drive very far or very fast that way. On the other hand, I can move over so others may zoom ahead. The highway isn’t just for me.
Now I feel somewhat foolish–with what I wrote. I agree, the highway isn’t just for me, but in the context of a story, the world isn’t all white either. How do know which path to take.
Even in the ‘white’ world, women, children, the old, the chronically ill, the disabled, the less intelligent… all are considered less important by the system.
It is our job as writers to consider these as well, and I if I never read another angsty coming-of-age white teenage male story, well, there are plenty out there already.
And they will continue to be written. To which I’m not objecting; only to their privilege.
And to the preference for thinking wonderful the stories written by men in which they create female characters.
If we approach more representative proportions – and make sure the diverse books are taught in our schools – we’ll make some progress. There will be screams – this will force out of those slots some of the more privileged writers, and there was never enough room for everyone – but pain is the price of progress.
Either we do it gently, somewhat planned, and with foresight – or it will be revolutionary. Like the dramatic appearance of digital books.
I love historical fiction and one of the best is Sue Monk Kidd’s THE INVENTION OF WINGS. It’s about the Grimke sisters and their slave girl Hettie “Handful.” The real Hettie died but Monk has imagined Hettie’s life had she lived and gives her a voice. Beautifully written, well researched, it touched my heart.
Hi Greer.
As you say, privilege shapes history, because history has always been what those writing it say it is. Those who write it come from the dominant group or groups of the moment. You began writing your first historical novel in 2009, ten years ago. Since then, the zeitgeist has continued to change, no doubt in part because of the election of the first American president of color.
“Now, it seems vaguely ridiculous” to you that in the process of ten revisions, it never occurred to you to include a non-white character or characters. Now, you think there should be such characters. But “should” can be a form of tokenism, an empty gesture to assuage readers or critics who also now see it as part of their responsibility to vet books for inclusiveness.
I’m currently writing a novel set in a typical Naples, Florida golf community. No people of color own houses at this club, but within hours, things would come to a halt if the Hispanics and Haitians who keep it running were to leave. None of this registers with my older white male protagonist until the end of the story. By then, he has been chastened, humiliated and shunned into awareness, and is finally able to see the reality of his life. What’s happened to him is what’s been happening to all those who’ve been paying attention, including novelists: we’ve become a little more conscious. And who can say that’s anything but a good thing?
I’ve been of fan of the Pre-Raphaelites since the 1990’s but only recently learned about FANNY EATON. She wasn’t mentioned in any of the books. Until now.
Sadly history was recorded by powerful people, about powerful people, for powerful people. In school, we learn about the Western European kings and conquerors, not about the common people all over the world. Even the most dedicated and meticulous of researchers digging through primary sources will get the impression the Earth was populated exclusively by the educated elite.
I teach Information Literacy classes at a college, and last summer a group of Native American high school students came to campus for a special program. The instructor gave me the topics they were discussing, and neither our print collection nor our databases of millions of scholarly articles had much to offer. I had to stand in front of that class and say, “I’m sorry, guys, but publishing and libraries have been run by white men for a long, long time.”
The Moor’s Account, by Laila Lalami is a gripping story of the Spanish exploration of Florida in the Middle Ages told by a Muslim slave from North Africa. The narrator makes several pointed observations that explain some of the reasons for our narrow, skewed view of history: no one asks for his testimony for the official reports; and because he isn’t bound by social conventions and concerns, he doesn’t always paint the most flattering picture of those exalted figures whose names are recorded in our history books.
Completely agree, Greer, and many thanks for writing this. As writers of historical fiction, we owe it both to the people of the past and our readers today to try to create as real and complete a world for our characters as we can. The heroine of my next historical novel, THE SECRET WIFE OF AARON BURR (Kensington Books, 10/19), is an enslaved woman of color named Mary Emmons, who was brought to America on the eve of the American Revolution, served in the household of Aaron Burr, bore him two children, and eventually found freedom. Most historians don’t acknowledge Mary’s existence, because there’s so little known about her. She’s been effectively erased, yet through fiction, I was able to give her a voice, and tell her story. While this was the most difficult book I’ve ever written, it was also the most rewarding. I’ll be honest: the research was lengthy, complicated, and often painful, and I had to listen, really listen, to the voices of the women and men like Mary to recreate their 18thc world. They deserved that from me. Aaron Burr – war hero, US senator, and vice president (and yes, he did shoot Alexander Hamilton in a duel, too) – was about as powerful an elite white male as 18thc America produced, and there will likely be some readers unhappy with how Mary’s story challenges the traditional view of him and others in the Founding generation. But the modern world will never learn and grow until it confronts the past, both good and bad, in all its complexity and variety. If we as writers can help our readers do that in the course of our novels, then wow, have we succeeded!
Oh, so much YES!! In my last series – set in 1912, I made mention of an architect. Later on in the story, Everett Wisely and his wife, Hannah, entered the scene. I didn’t know until I was writing them that they are an affluent black couple. Hannah made a comment about how unusual that was in that era, especially in the south.
Current series, I “discovered” that the MC’s (twin sisters) in the third book are black ladies. Who both marry white fellas. I can’t wait to explore those relationships, and the ripple through their families. Incidentally, it will be their parents who balk the loudest.