Historic Fiction: A Love Letter

It’s 2015. I’m in my flat in Holloway, North London, off work with mental health related illness, and slowly sinking deeper into a state from which it is hard to return. My weight is creeping upwards, my self esteem down, and life is looking, frankly, pretty bleak. In desperation, I sign up to Audible, where I get my monthly credit, and my life back.

A young Corrie at my first ever race, mostly enabled by Audible.

The gateway into Historic Fiction

Enter Claire Beauchamp Randall and James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Frazer, the main protagonists in the “Outlander” series. This is an epic historic (scienceish-)fiction that takes you from World War II trenches to 18th Century Scotland, Boston in the 1960’s to the Colonies (what will become America for those of us who aren’t obsessed with this period of history) and the American War of Independence, with a whole host of other places in-between. We meet the Duke of Cumberland, Charles Stuart, George Washington, King Louis XV, many other real-life heroes and villains, and an enchanting host of imagined but historically accurate characters from the mind of Diana Gabaldon.

Those heady days of escaping to the 18th Century are followed by further obsession with colonial America in the “Matthew Corbett” books by Robert McCammon, where we have fewer historic accuracies (aka we don’t meet anyone we already ‘know’) and with that, more freedom to imagine. Death in dark woods; murder and an early “Sweeney Todd” sausage; even an actual heroine or two; my love for finding out true history through fiction expands to crime.

By this point, “Pillars of the Earth” by Ken Follett is already a firm favourite - this series spans from the ages of Vikings battering settlements on the British coast, to the Great Fire of London. Living in London, I have the opportunity to visit some of the places Ken Follett takes us to, and a visit to Salisbury Cathedral cements my absolute adoration for the Historic Fiction genre in the beauty of taking items, places, people, from my imagination into the cold hard facts of history where they can be examined and appreciated in their physical form.

Present day

I’ve been doing a lot better than I was in 2015, although recently did have a brief visit back to being off work as a result of ‘mental health nonsense’. This coincided with the latest Outlander novel coming out - the most recent since 2014 - and a revisit to the entire universe as a result. It’s not the second time I’ve ‘read’ the series, but it was a poignant one. I was still running as I listened, visceral memories of jogging down the old railway path that make up the Finsbury Park “Parkland Walk” intruding into my mind as I ran up and down the old railway path connecting Bath and Bristol.

At the end of February, my husband and I visited Edinburgh. We visited the hidden streets of Mary King’s Close, an incredibly fascinating part of the city hidden underneath Edinburgh City Chambers. The Edinburgh City Chambers (then the Royal Exchange) opened in 1760, a huge building that on the steeply sloping streets of the Royal Mile was simply built on top of the houses that made up the top part of Mary King’s Close. Although people continued to live and work in MKC until the dying days of the 19th Century, much of it has been preserved exactly as it would have been in the early- to mid-1700’s.

Mary King’s Close - a street in Edinburgh as it would have been in the Outlander era, excluding a huge amount of life, bustle and mess!

This is so relevant to Outlander, because just a few years before Mary King’s Close was truncated and built on top of, Jamie and Claire were wandering the Royal Mile as part of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s court. I can’t describe how enchanted I was to be exploring these streets, hearing about the bustling streets and buildings that rose so high that there was a perpetual dusk at street-level. I was astonished to discover people from the poorest families sleeping 12 to a room had less space than the cows in the nearby barn, and amused by the tale of Andrew Chesney, a sawmaker so proud of his indoor toilet that he would sit on it with all doors to the street open so people could see him in state and (presumably) be highly envious.

After exploring Mary King’s Close we went up to Edinburgh Castle, where as well as seeing much of the space brought to life by Outlander, we visited the National War Museum. From displays of the Highlander regalia worn during the Second Rising, to the uniforms worn by troops fighting in the American War of Independence, my appreciation of history was again augmented by the knowledge that I have picked up over the years through my obsessing over historic fiction.

Volunteers Wanted

An exhibit at the Scotland National War Museum. General Fraser’s Highland Regiment features heavily in one of the books from the Outlander series, and Diana Gabaldon includes a bit of her research regarding the results of the last battle General Fraser fought in at the end of the book.

One of the best things about the series is how heavily researched and historically accurate it is - and where the author takes liberties with timelines and stories, she makes it clear, and explains her reasoning.

We left both of these attractions with two new books in my clutches - both historic, without the fiction. One of these was “Jacobites: A New History of the ‘45 Rebellion” by Jacqueline Riding, purely purchased because my knowledge of the Second Rising is massively biased by the fact I only know of it from Outlander, and I intend to remedy this. I also bought a biography of "Mary Queen of Scots” by Antonia Fraser, because family lore has it that I am related to her in some way, so I have always been quite interested in her as a person.

Both of these are, as you can probably imagine, a lot more dry without the enchantment of personalities, thoughts and descriptions of characters we have got to know and love. I’m finding them a lot more manageable than I would have without the interest that the books have already sparked, though. We won’t even talk about the fact that we drove past a number of battlefields, buildings and other landmarks that I would love to visit, just to stand on the ground where so much life has happened.

Imagine how I’m going to behave when I actually make it to America!

Enjoying a book about the Jacobites along with an oat latte of a Sunday morning.

Moving ahead into history

I’d love to know if there are any recommendations for other historic fiction, particularly relating to the early days of the American colonies - or, to be honest, the days before Europe decided North America was fair game and took all the land from the native people. Although this is a genre I’ve flirted with my whole life - some of it more contemporary (James Herriot books discussing life as a vet in the mid- to late-Twentieth Century), much of it far further reaching (Ramses and the lives of the Pharaohs by Christian Jacq, the interest in Egypotology while we were at university resulting in me owning a book that I found out later is actually a university level textbook) - the biggest problem I have is that there is quite a lot of history in this crazy world of ours, and even if I spend the rest of my life obsessively reading, I’ll never even make a dent into it. I have to pick and choose my time period, and possibly revisit in a few years.

I could keep typing for the rest of time if I tried hard enough, so I will leave this here! Give me your recommendations!

Keep reading,

Corrie

Photo from a visit to Loch Lomond - and below, a Jacobite song that I know from my days playing folk music, which is thought to have come from the political culture that arose in the days of the ‘45.

Loch Lomond

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond,
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.

Chorus:
O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye,
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.

'Twas there that we parted, in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomond,
Where in soft purple hue, the highland hills we view,
And the moon coming out in the gloaming.

Chorus

The wee birdies sing and the wildflowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping.
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again,
Though the waeful may cease frae their grieving.

Chorus