History, Fiction and Uchronia

Earlier this year, I wrote an adaptation of the autobiography of the Nun Ensign, "La leyenda de la monja alférez". Catalina de Erauso escaped the convent her family had put her into, in order to sail to 16th century colonial South America, where she became a legendary cross dressing swashbuckler. Particular are not only her often retold quarrels, brutal murders, witty escapes and spicy love affairs - these were common material to baroque tales. But Erauso decided to write her own tale, her own truth - his own truth, if one is to be true to the narration. A truth that breaks the narrative of a repentant sinner, so beloved in Catholic fancy then and now, and reaffirms transition and change as a reality.

History, in this case, was for me a vehicle to show the weight of reality, even if the tale is one of comedy, irony and multilayered farce. History is composed of accountable instances of rewriting, but the fact that it has been written down attests for the existence of the idea, and for its age. The multiple attempts to unwrite what is already stated, and the resilience of a fact that cannot be denied - that makes it into an uncomfortable and therefore undeniable reality. The reality being, to recur to plain formula, that gender is a brittle construct. Thus, in the long run, the autobiography of the nun ensign also breaks the narrative of traditional catholic values and their god given nature.

I find myself, once and again, writing on history and realizing the struggles it brings me into. It is particularly annoying to be held accountable for accuracy. This was a debate on several aspects of the mise-en-scene for our Nun Ensign, since the adapted texts imply a specific perspectives, historical facts reveal another, and the historical memory, which we actually meant to stir, is divorced from that altogether. We decided, for example, not to use the historical white-and-red Cross of Burgundy or the multi-patched coat of colonialist Castile, but the contemporary red-yellow of Spain. After all, what we really mean to talk about, is how nowadays, every year, Columbus Day is still a national holiday, turning genocide not into a brittle memory, but the joyful foundations of the ruling state...

For a short fused, instigating writer as I am, research quickly hems creativity and bold statements. During "El Empalador", it already made me struggle thoroughly to get the details right - which I probably didn't, in the end. I had the story figured out in my mind from the beginning, a story about revenge, betrayal and self-destruction, and Vlad just seemed to be a willing vehicle to bring Lilith back into the world. The rest was fluff, and it did not matter but for some atmosphere, and when it got in the way, it was cast aside. Still, it was quite a struggle rewriting the whole thing three times in search for an appropriate language that would feel like 15th century but still be relatable and useful to my purpose. I promised myself I would write histories nevermore. But here I am...

I have, somehow, ended up entangled in working with history and, more specifically, with uchronia. The biggest thing I've done along those lines is an entire novel in German, the "Clockwork Maid" or "Zahnradmädchen", which I've been trying to get published for some years now. It is, of course, a lot more fun to dream of what might have happened than to retell things as they were. But it does not fulfil any purpose without an adequate historical flavour. In fact, the more minute the historical references appear, the more confusing the edges of reality will turn. The edges of, on the one hand, what we contemporary world-view considers possible, as opposed to how the time understood itself; and, on the other hand, the edges of what we believe that happened, as opposed to what uncomfortable documents and archaeology might reveal.

Fantasy is all too often a refuge for conservative views of history, especially views that insist in imagining an unchanging, harmonious or at least justified history. Fantasy is even more important a refuge for those outdated views of a history that has been proven wrong. It can be the place where historical lies live on.

But fantasy can also be the opposite. This is precisely the rich inspiration I find in history: It opens worlds and cultures that have been buried and forgotten, and surpass, escape, invalidate our established world-views. To me, uchronia is to not only consider those uncomfortable facts, but to make them the centre of a narrative that breaks our "modern" understanding of reality. The delight is also in making the world-views clash against each other, and to make us aware of our own historical bias. The conservative discourse is to use history to justify established beliefs, while dismissing any deeper analysis of it as "inaccurate". Historical fiction should therefore do the exact opposite: playfully counter the most evident narratives while dredging up the forgotten and disturbing facts of the past.

I was particularly pointed in this direction by the comment of Mykola Makhortykh on historical role playing games. Makhortykh took some Russian scenarios which were constructed in a blatantly ideological way, to justify old wars and blend historical motives into uncritical reproduction. However, he also highlighted the potential of the RPG as a medium, for here the players themselves are confronted with the historical question: What would they have done as a "hero" in times of struggle? How would they have dealt with the bias, and how much do they need to dissociate from their contemporary experience to get into the character? In ucronia, this question becomes legitimate, for suddenly they are confronted with facts and experiences contemporary narratives had denied, but in front of them are also limitless possibilities.

My personal uchronical RPG has come to be Wolsung. I am currently supporting the Redaktion Phantastik in bringing it into the German market and have written or repurposed some adventures for it. I am not sure if I have the same understanding of the game as my colleagues do. It features decadent green fairies, technomagical dragons, but also exotic oriental orks and treacherous goblins with a croocked nose and a secret language to make golems... Others might just find it a slight enlargement of what they believe "actually happened, back when everything was alright". I myself love to play this out as a grotesque parody, subverting the stereotypes of the era and showing the dilemmas of a bigot society.