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Where do our female characters stand in history? As authors of fiction, are we bound to reflect their situation as it would have been in the (implied) time and culture of the story? What if that time and culture was one that oppressed, demeaned or belittled women? Does historical accuracy mean reduced agency for the women of our story, and how does that go down with the contemporary reader?
Whatever the chosen period, a writer of historical fiction has a certain obligation to be accurate. The reader expects the story to be true to its time, not only in the detail such as what people wore, what they ate and drank, and how they travelled, but also more broadly: politics, religious faith, education, social interaction. Then there are the big events: war, plague, drought, famine, a comet passing over, a volcanic eruption, the dethroning of a monarch. Write about a specific year and forget one of these, and readers will soon let you know about it. The strongest historical novelists know their period inside out, and can paint a compelling picture without excess detail. Story comes first; this is fiction, after all. The wealth of historical research lies behind the story, adding depth and credibility.
Much of historical fiction is set in times of limited choices for women, especially low-born women. Frequent child-bearing, hard physical labour and patriarchal cultures restricted their opportunities. With no miracle drugs to fight infection, life expectancy was far shorter than it is now. For a woman of high birth there would have been more choices – a queen or an abbess, for example, might have made opportunities not only for herself, but for other women under her control or patronage. Authors may choose to focus on fictional characters within the historical framework, allowing freer rein with the storytelling – invented characters can be given more choices than historical figures, whose lives may be well documented. But the astute reader will expect the events of the story to be possible for that time and place. Fortunately, history is full of quirks and surprises, and an imaginative writer may find opportunities for their female characters to rise above the obstacles of their time and culture.
So what about historical fantasy? What additional freedom does it allow the female character? Firstly, don’t make the assumption that because it’s fantasy, you can throw in whatever you want. “Hey, it’s not the real world, it’s got magic, who needs research?” Wrong. The world of your novel needs to make sense. That’s the first rule of world building: internal logic. Yes, you can have magic, mythology, the uncanny in whatever form you choose. You are free to change history if you wish, but to do so effectively, base those changes on a solid knowledge of the period and culture in question. In other words, learn the rules first, then break them with skill.
The genre of historical fantasy has many branches. There’s alternative history, in which you include the ‘might have been’ of your chosen era. The Napoleonic era with dragons. The Victorian era with ghosts. The Regency with dark magic. A feminist version of any culture you choose. These work well when the historical canvas is painted impeccably and with flair – this helps draw the reader into the magical, uncanny part of your world. More common is historical fantasy set in an secondary or invented world that has strong parallels with a familiar place, time and culture.
A medieval-style setting is a popular choice for fantasy writers. Swords and shields, armour, travel by horseback, kings and queens, druids, warriors and bards lend themselves well to epic tales of quests, battles and monsters, stories that might have come from the Icelandic sagas, the Irish myths or the magical tales of ancient China. Myths, legends and folklore provide a rich source of inspiration for fantasy writing. In many of those ancient tales there are strong and capable female characters. Often they are wielders of magic. But other periods also provide inspiration for women to take centre stage. There’s Alix E Harrow’s The Once and Future Witches, set in the imagined town of New Salem in the late 19th century. It’s a story of women rediscovering their (suppressed) natural magic against the background of the suffragist movement. The novel is rich with fantastic elements and at the same time entirely believable. Then there’s Madeline Miller’s Circe, in which the demi-goddess and witch of Greek myth must weigh up her independence against the sacrifices it brings. Also highly recommended is The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec, a novel based on Norse mythology with the focus firmly on the women. Are myths historical stories? We could debate that point for a long time, but my belief is that all traditional stories are to some degree based on truth.
Most of my books have a woman as the main protagonist, and often the story is built around her journey to break away from whatever is holding her back. They are generally set in imagined versions of real world history, with the fantasy elements drawn from what the people of that time and culture might have believed. For a long while I avoided creating a ‘warrior woman’ protagonist, thinking it was something of a cliché. Then a character put her hand up to have her story written.
In my most recent series, Warrior Bards, Liobhan is an able fighter and an excellent musician, who uses both talents to make her way in the world. She’s the offspring of characters from my previous series, Blackthorn & Grim, and she’s strong, forthright and fearless. Her powerful physique and ability to use it well come from her father’s nature and nurture. Her fiery red hair, passion for justice, and tendency to speak her mind come from her mother. Is it convincing that a young woman in early medieval Ireland would make a living as an elite warrior and spy? You may not find an example in the history books, but you will in the Irish mythology: Scáthach, the witch who trained the hero Cú Chulainn in the martial arts. The community in which Liobhan lives and works adheres to strict codes of behaviour including mutual respect and acceptance of difference. When she undertakes a mission she is often met by the less tolerant attitudes of the outside world. If she’s undercover, one of her biggest challenges is to keep her mouth shut when she observes, or experiences, discriminatory or abusive behaviour.
As a storyteller I aim to capture and entertain the reader – to lift them out of their everyday life for a while, and at the same time to reflect the challenges and dilemmas of that life. However fantastic the world of a novel may be, surely it carries something of the writer’s inner truth. My characters are not all heroic. They make mistakes, they stuff up, they do bad things. They feel envy, shame, disillusionment, self-doubt. I hope I also show that human beings – women and men both – can be brave, strong, gentle, flexible, and tolerant.
Writers: how does the time and culture of your setting affect the way you create and develop your characters? In what ways are the journeys of your women characters relevant to the experience of today’s readers? Readers: any recommendations of historical fantasy, especially those featuring female characters? Does historical accuracy matter in fantasy writing?
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Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in August/September 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in early 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.