The pleasure of writing a historical novel about a subject you previously knew nothing about is that the research takes you on a magical mystery tour of all kinds of subjects.
Inspiring a Great Scot
REBECCA ABRAMS' new novel Touching Distance tells the story of a brilliant but largely unrecognised doctor working in 18th century Aberdeen. Here she talks about the books, from writers as diverse as Hilary Mantel and Mikhail Bulgakov, which provided her with both a model and an inspiration.
I was the child who dropped the iron filings in the physics lesson and couldn’t make the ticker tape tick.
Inspiration is a curious wee beastie. Not unlike love, it strikes where it will and pays scant regard for its target. I wasn't expecting to write a novel set in the 18th century. I certainly wasn't expecting to write a novel set in Aberdeen. And if anyone had suggested I'd spend three years writing a novel about a doctor, I'd have laughed in their face.
As a die-hard hypochandriac, I regarded doctors as the trying individuals who refused to believe my symptoms were real. Science lessons at school had always been an ordeal of bewilderment and humiliation. One chemistry teacher demonstrated the melting point of ice by putting an icecube down my shirt. This not only melted the ice, but dissolved me into a blubbering heap, much to the amusement of the class and the mortification of the teacher. I was the child who dropped the iron filings in the physics lesson and couldn't make the ticker tape tick. I was the only pupil in biology who seemed not to know that rabbit ovaries come supplied with eggs. Or is the other way round? I was trying so hard not to cry (again!) I never did hear the correct answer.
But inspiration, as I say, strikes where it will, and from the first moment I stumbled upon a little-known Scottish doctor named Alexander Gordon, I was not only smitten, but knew that I had to tell his story. During his short lifetime, Gordon made one of the greatest medical discoveries of his age, but like all true heroes, Gordon had a fatal flaw: his, tragically, was being way ahead of his time.
The pleasure of writing a historical novel about a subject you previously knew nothing about is that the research takes you on a magical mystery tour of all kinds of subjects. En route, I took in some wonderful books, fiction and non-fiction. Some I'd read years before; many were fresh discoveries. Hilary Mantel's The Giant, O'Brien is based on the life of another great Scottish doctor, John Hunter, who was a contemporary of Alexander Gordon's. Famed as a brilliant anatomist, Hunter was an avid collector of corpses. (He may well have been the model for Stevenson's Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.) One of the corpses that Hunter dearly longed to add to his collection was that of the seven foot giant, Charles Byrne. The trouble was that Byrne was not yet dead. The Giant, O'Brien is a heart-rending tale of cat and mouse, as the dying giant does everything in his power to escape Hunter's waiting knife. Mantel does miraculous things with words and conjures the past with consummate skill. As for poor Byrne, you can see his skeleton today in the Hunterian Museum in London.
Mikhail Bulgakov's A Country Doctor's Notebook was recommended to me by the novelist and poet Michael Ondaatje. It's an absolute gem. A series of short stories based on Bulgakov's own experiences as a newly qualified doctor drafted to a small provincial hospital in a remote corner of northwest Russia. Death is terrifyingly close at hand, but so too is life in all its wonderful absurdity. Bulgakov portrays the hardship of rural life in post-revolutionary Russia with unflinching realism and immense compassion. His doctor's battles with his patients and their calamities had me spell-bound with horror one moment, laughing out loud the next.
A major challenge for the historical novelist is how to evoke a sense of period without descending into pastiche. Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower is a masterclass in this particular art. Set in late eighteenth century Germany, it tells of the passionate love of the brilliant young poet-philosopher Novalis for an ill-educated twelve year old girl. The sheer strangeness of the language forces you to enter a world that is curiously familiar yet utterly foreign at the same time. Fitzgerald's ability to conjure the past with the lightest of touch is awe-inspiring. The tension between reason and romanticism at this moment in history, when the world is on the verge of revolution, is brilliantly drawn, and Novalis's tender and determined love for his Sophie will make you weep.
Historical speech patterns are one thing, but dialect is altogether a different minefield for a novelist. Too much of it and your readers haven't the faintest idea what any of your characters are saying; too little and you lose the distinctive flavour of the place you're writing about. In the north-east of Scotland, where my novel, Touching Distance is set, people used to speak a regional language called Doric. The Scots Quair trilogy by Lewis Grassic Gibbon is the classic work set in this part of Scotland and a truly wonderful read. Set against the backdrop of the First World War, the trilogy traces the life of Chrissie Guthrie, through first love, marriage, motherhood and widowhood. Chrissie is a true free-spirit, and her struggle to retain her independence through the trials and tribulations of life and love is utterly compelling. Grassic Gibbon created an entirely new language to tell Chrissie's story, a beautiful lyrical voice that evokes the lovely rhythms of the Scots tongue in an Anglicised form. The first book in the trilogy, Sunset Song, in particular, is pure music to the ear.
My very favourite historical novel has to be Dr Copernicus by John Banville. A fictional retelling of the life of the great astronomer, who shattered the medieval world with his discovery that the earth was not the centre of the universe. Copernicus was a tormented genius, out of step with his age, and tragically constrained by it. From the very first sentence, Banville draws us into the medieval society of northern Europe, the darkness and ignorance, the fragility of human life, the political corruption. The agony for Copernicus of knowing what no-one around him was able or willing to believe is brilliantly explored by Banville, and almost unbearable at times. Historical fiction as its very, very best.
Friday, 4 July, 2008
In Features
- Tales from the City
- Chicago!
- Democracy Kills
- Talking the Shifting Talk
- Philosophical Balm for Troubled Times
- Concealed Identites
- A Small Catalogue of the Uncurated
- Literary Islands
- Christmas on the Page
- Natural Pursuits
- A Few of My Favourite Things
- The End of the World as We Know It
- Troy Stories
- Inspiring a Great Scot
- Writing Abroad
- The Fog of War
Buy books
The Revolutions Trilogy: "Doctor Copernicus", "Kepler", "Newton Letter - An Interlude"
A Scots Quair
The Blue Flower
A Country Doctor's Notebook
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Other Tales of Terror (Penguin Classics)
The Giant, O'Brien
Touching Distance
Books are purchased through Amazon UK. Link opens in a new window.
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