I've mention the Deadwood dilemma before in discussions about historical accuracy in our writing, but here's another version of it that I found interesting... a medievalist's perspective on the anachronisms of A Knight's Tale and the reasons they were not just justifiable but actually really effective: https://www.tor.com/2018/11/16/a-knights-tale-is-the-best-medieval-film-no-really/ He argues that "there is a truth of historical reality, and then there is a truth of historical relationship — a difference between knowing the actual physical feel of the past and the relative emotional feel of it." And this is, I think, one of the key challenges of historical fiction. How do we convey the emotional truth of historical situations to readers who don't have the same emotional framework as the historical characters? I think possibly it's a bit easier for prose writers rather than filmmakers because we have more of a chance to dive inside characters and more words to spend on explaining (hopefully in subtle ways) why characters feel the way they do. And I feel like historical novelists are often writing for a more specialized audience, hopefully made up of people who have an interest and basic understanding of the historical period being written about, rather than trying to create a movie suitable for consumption by a mass audience. So I think probably there's more room for anachronism in filmed fiction, just because there's more need of it? But I'm still rolling these ideas around in my head. Ideas?
In the 300, the film, the main characters talk about being free men, constantly. Sparta is free. Xerces has a slave army. Blah blah blah. For Spartan Greeks, that probably seemed true, even though historically, it would have been much better to be ruled by the Persian king than the Spartan king. But the movie is told from the Greek perspective, so to show that Sparta was a society of free men, they just didn't show any of the helots or slaves. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if this rings true to the experience of the feelings of the leaders of the Spartans, though by our perspective, Sparta was one of the most oppressive and evil slave states the world has ever known. Maybe I'm advocating for lying by omission in some cases.
For me this is less forgivable than the smaller anachronisms, I guess because it's more clearly a full misrepresentation? Like, for A Knight's Tale, the truth is that medieval jousts were rowdy and fun, and the filmmakers just present that truth in a manner that modern audiences will find more accessible. But I feel like the Sparta thing is deeper than that. I get your point - for the POV characters, freedom is the "truth". So what do we do when POV characters are hypocritical/wrong? I'm not sure.
I wonder if my fascination with the manner of delivery used by Kenneth Branagh in Much Ado About Nothing is part of this conversation? We all know that typical, faux-epic manner in which Shakespearean pieces are usually delivered, one arm reaching out into the nothing, sounding for all the world like the actor is reciting words in a foreign language he or she has learned phonetically, and perhaps has some meager understanding of the underlying meaning, but never very much. In the same film (MAAN), Keany Reaves (uch!) is the very epitome of what I mention, where he manages to deliver in a manner that is both grossly grandiose and yet also savagely gelded of all heart at the same time. And then there is Kenneth... Mr. Branagh, and to a slightly lesser degree Emma Thompson as well, deliver their lines in a manner that is conversational. It's clear that they not only understand the lines they've learned, they understand the language of the era that gave birth to those lines, and so deliver them in a way that feels like people actually speaking to one another. The quips are quippy, the comedy is palpable and engageable because they've stripped the centuries of paint away from the text and read it as it was meant to be read. But, goodness, how we have been trained to think that Keanu's deadwood delivery is the more "correct" and de rigueur. In a similar vein, not long ago in this community of ours, we had someone who was searching without end for the formula, the elixir, the core code of Biblical magic that would lend his/her words the same "rhythm and flow", which he/she held so loftily as being different in kind, not just by degree. Frankly, I never saw or understood this "thing" he/she was looking for because I don't see anything magical or special in the manner of the writing, other than that it is archaic. More than that, the writing was meant for the common people of the time, since up to this point, the Bible had been written in languages meant only to be understood by the clergy, not the common man. Whatever lofty and divine pace and cadence this person was looking for (which I don't hear or feel or see) obviates the fact that at the time of the writing of the KJB, it would have sounded and felt much more like the language being used by the common man of the day. 400 years of linguistic flux and change separate us from the men and women of the time. Again, we have acquired a patina of thought and engagement that makes us engage the text in a way that would have been starkly different from the way it would have been engaged, linguistically, by its original intended audience.
I agree with your admiration of the Branagh performance (and the whole production - god, that film is GORGEOUS), but I think it may actually be an example of the reverse of the phenomenon under discussion? Like, Branagh's performance is probably more historically accurate (insofar as there can be accuracy when we're dealing with a totally anglicized and bastardized version of Sicily) but modern audiences might actually be conditioned to expect a less "accurate" presentation? And the weird part is that the less accurate presentation is ALSO harder to connect to emotionally... So I'd say the Branagh performance points out how Shakespeare is too often "modernized" in a really unproductive way, because the audience expectations that are being catered to are that Shakespeare is esoteric and remote. Weird, but interesting.
How many people watched Braveheart and thought that along with the rip-roaring entertainment they also learned a little something about the history of Scotland. Aside from a timeline that couldn't possibly have been, and the kilts they couldn't possibly have worn, William Wallace was most probably not a dirt farmer, nor was he "Braveheart". Robert the Bruce was "Brave Heart". And not mentioned in the footnotes of most historical accounts of Scotland during this time, is that after they lost their... what I would call a "Half-hearted" rebellion, they quickly regrouped, and scarcely a generation later were fighting side-by-side with the English to suppress the freedom of others. Wouldn't it be neat if they made a film about Scotland's intimate relationship with the Ku Klux Klan? In the end, you do your research and take what history gives you and find the hooks in it. Then the fun starts! This is what originally got my juices going... Remember, there's various flavors of Historical Fiction. I myself am drawn to Gaslamp Fantasy, a sort of mingling of fantasy and alternate history. Though I keep most things grounded in real history, I still get to mix in a bit of gothic supernaturalism with the French Revolution. I think you do your diligent best to dig up real history, and then take plenty of liberties with it. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke is a great example of when it's done right.
That being said, people of Shakespeare's day didn't speak in iambic pentameter to each other. So to some extent his plays were formalised that way. Not sure why. People of his day did understand the references which skip past the modern theatre-goer, unless we've studied up on them. But the format must have seemed formal to them, and I expect a certain amount of speechifying was also expected of an actor.
I think there's speechifying, and there's speechifying. Another filmed Branagh performance that I love is his version of the St. Crispin's Day speech. (). He's definitely laying on the speechifying, but it's still really accessible and emotional... I think partly it's the reactions of the other actors, serving as a sort of cue for our own reactions. And the motivational music certainly doesn't hurt, and it probably helps that cameras can get close enough to show facial expressions without the exaggeration necessary for the stage... but I think it's also the delivery. And, of course, it's another example of talking liberties with history for useful effect.
" But nothing remotely like the way we engage it now, these 400-some-odd years later. His plays were intended for the people of the day, and while yes, obviously, no one ever spoke in iambic pentameter, the language used to create that pentameter was the language of the common man and woman. We look back through time with a deeply imperfect spyglass that distorts our idea of what these plays were meant to be and for whom they were meant. I agree with @BayView's comment that "audience expectations that are being catered to are that Shakespeare is esoteric and remote." and how absurd that seems, especially when you get to hear Branagh and Thompson interact within a Shakespearean play with a level of talent and commitment that revives the humanity and humor that is clearly there.
The problem with Shakespeare, is that we simply don't understand the archaic English. Many moons ago it was, I took a Summer course in Shakespeare, and in Cambridge, England no less! Little good it did me! _______________________________ In Twelfth Night, the pompous butler Malvolio is given a letter that he thinks is from the lady of the house, declaring her love for him. This is how he convinces himself the letter's in her handwriting: By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. _______________________________ In case you missed the joke, it's Shakespeare being his bawdy best. The audience of the time, both educated and ignorant would have likely snickered as the ridiculous Malvolio spoke the lines. He spells, C-U-N-T. Shakespeare's plays are full of base humor that I'm afraid very few people ever appreciate.
Yes. I think my example with Branagh and Thompson is the opposite of what the article is intoning. Branagh and Thompson manage to deliver the original language (and I'm using language as a metaphor for language, meaning, intent, tone, engagement, heart, etc.) in a way that the modern viewer can actually understand. It's a rare sight, to be sure. A Knight's Tale isn't in the original language (again, the whole metaphor thingy). It's a translation, an interpretation. It's turning the bewildering orthography of Chaucer's Middle English (still in metaphor mode) into our Modern English so that the original meaning, intent, flavor, and engagement can be appreciated with the same heart as it would have been by Chaucer, if not with the exact wording or spelling.
The last novel I finished had three POV characters. One starts of in the lowest caste and one starts off royalty. The city was an oppressive place based on both Sparta and Athens. I had the luxury of characters with different views, so when the royal character looked at the city, she saw food, music, markets, and culture. The low caste character always noticed the hanging people, slave markets, threats from armed citizens and so on.
I love this! This is a subject I've been thinking about for a very long time. Even before I even could imagine that one day I'd get to actually enjoy writing. If this quote means what I think it means, then, indeed I agree with it 100%. I am writing a story that's situated in ancient China, Southern Song dynasty (so far) and one of my MC's is an assassin. I've researched all I could about the history of China (which in case you've never considered about studying, I highly recommend it because it is most intriguing) and although I could find almost everything I was searching for, from the Southern Song era topography, politics and hierarchy to how people combed their hair or lived their lives in general, whatsoever I stumbled for a long time on the most unforeseen aspect of my story, which had to do with a very basic moral code and how it was conducted back then: honor. Have you ever stopped to think how diverse honor is and how it adapts as it always has been, considering the passing of millenia upon millenia of our civilization as a unit? Not only that, let's not forget about the distinct cultural differences as well, that lead each village or city or nation to have its' slightly or immensely different sense of honor. We can even zoom in further to the honor of a single person and how that differs from their neighbors', be it they have the same spiritual beliefs or not, the same respect for democracy or not and of course and most of all, completely different personal circumstances that tend to change everyday as that human survives and grows older (not necessarily wiser). What I mean to say is that although we all take the word "honor" to be of course what "honor" means and is, although it is the same word we are communicating and knowing it to mean as an abstract concept, we always did and always will I guess, have our differences upon it. But everytime we hear someone say the word "honor" we automatically assume we know exactly what he is talking about, which is far from the truth. I've come to understand that honor is also somewhat of an instinctual quality but I won't get into this now. I've been having trouble figuring my character out just because of his sense of honor, which ironically is the aspect that got me inspired to write this story. What "honor" means to him, is not completely in conflict with my understanding, but the gravity it takes in his mind is ridiculous. He was rescued from a very young age and since he got to keep his life, that amounts to giving it for whatever reason his saviour decides. He was trained to be an assassin and he knows that the only reason that he was saved was to be proven useful for his master and his clan in the future, by taking heads efficiently, no questions asked. Whatever the mission might be, he has to take it even if he strongly disagrees (internally of course), he has no say, since this is a sign of disrespect. His honor basically dictates that his life belongs to another, to the extent that he cannot chose for himself where to give it, metaphorically and literally. The crazy thing for me is that he actually is not chained or blackmailed to keep this up. He truly believes that it's the most important thing in the world to keep his word and his intentions towards his invisible contract pure. He simply can't fail them. He can't be ungrateful and flee or go against them and dishonor himself. He'd rather burn in hell. I've tried countless times to reason with him and show him where his logic fails and the stubborn jack would simply agree and then simply say "evenso... no", until one day I finally understood why and now I can start writing again. Anyhow, I wrote this whole thing because I believe that it is different to know and different to understand and get into the shoes of another, especially when you focus so much on your reasoning and sense of morality. My MC, if his master asked him to? He'd be chopping Santa's head on Christmas eve without a second thought, as shit as he might feel and it pretty much makes sense to him. (For now... Soon I'll be taking the reins of his story and he's in for a ride). In Ancient times, people lived in other circumstances, knew differently, conducted moral codes differently, thought differently, but it doesn't really matter, because we are writing about "from-today-and-on" readers. I will never really know what happened inside the head of an ancient chinese assassin, (I know that this conversation with my MC happened in my mind btw) but I'm not bringing anybody back to life. I'm creating a character in order to entertain and maybe achieve to explain something of essense while I'm at it. There's nothing more boring and fake anyway than writing a wooden honorable person. The beauty for me comes from real human internal struggles and in order to portray that, you need sometime, not only to research for your setting and external resources, but also to get to wonder and comprehend why a person did such horrible things and how were they chained. How did they justify and how they were made.
https://spectator.us/outlaw-king/ Hackles, hackles, knee-jerk...groan. QUOTE ..If you’re looking for Christmas presents for your favorite incel, slip this in his Christmas stocking. Then stuff the stocking in his mouth so he looks like a roasted piglet.'
Oh... not sure of a link, but the general idea is that the TV show Deadwood used a lot of modern, and therefore anachronistic, swearing in their depiction of a wild west town. The creator said they ran a test screening using the historically appropriate swear words and the audience found the words comical. A grizzled killer yelling "dagnabbit" before killing his next victim just didn't work. In order to have the effect on audiences they wanted, in order to have the emotional truth of showing that these are hard, dirty, uncivilized people, they had to use the expletives that would be used by hard, dirty, uncivilized people in the modern world.
And that hits the nail on the head. You only need to evoke the time period, not chronicle it. The emotional truth, the atmosphere of time and place is what's important. My editor is a stickler for details, and as such she fact-checks everything. But she doesn't suggest that all historically inaccuracies get the heave-ho. Far from it. So when I have a character say "Hell's bells!", a term that isn't in use in 1792, it stays because it has the ring of truth... I know, bad pun.
@Malisky, love your approach to this. I think it is important in trying to depict historical fiction, it is important to portray the era as the people saw it and felt about it, and not impose modern judgments on it based on moralities and viewpoints that did not then exist. Let the reader judge the society as you present it, not you. In my book, the Senator's slave and financial manager is given his freedom, but then considers rejecting it when he realizes that his master is about to commit suicide in disgrace... because there was a close personal relationship between the two, a mutual respect, that went beyond master and slave. My heroine begins as an abused concubine, but can't see herself as either fighting to free herself (not likely) nor moping around because she can't (no point). She endures, because that is what women of that era in China did. And the endurance made her strong, not weak.
Maybe I'm missing something, but that example just sounds like translation. Is it anachronistic for the characters in Ridley Scott's Gladiator to speak English? I wouldn't think so, and I don't see how the Deadwood example is any different,
I agree, essentially, but the series has gotten a lot of criticism for being historically inaccurate, so... not everyone sees it the way we do!
That criticism is evidence they've lost the plot. The foremost priority of fiction—historical or otherwise—is to communicate a story. To prioritize a language at the expense of your story's accessibility puts you in closer relation to a linguist than a storyteller. Similar to how a chef, who prioritizes presentation over taste and nutrition, is closer to an artist than a cook.
