Anyone else wonder about the appeal of stories set in another century? Just what’s the attraction?
The future, of course, is one direction, a whole set of “what if” projections that for now cannot be tested against historical development. (Admittedly, Orwell’s 1984 certainly has become an exception in the years since I first read it, gee, was it ’64? As has the movie 2001.)
The past, however, seems to be the more romantic option, beginning with historic period romances and Westerns. I suppose it’s not that far removed from those who inquire of astrologers or palmists or mediums about their past lives, although what I’ve always found most fascinating there is how many people who do so claim to have been Cleopatra or Anne Boleyn or Helen of Troy or the like, rather than one of the common, suffering, exploited populace. No, the stories tilt toward royalty, court intrigue, the power struggles of the rich and mighty – the glittering elite far removed from everyday life. (Maybe that’s our fascination with celebrities, too, as if wealth and beauty leads to true love and happiness, not that it ever seems to hold over the long haul. In pure weight, tragedies trump over comedies.)
My wife sometimes jests that I would have been more at home in 18th or 19th century America, especially in a context of the Enlightenment, scientific advancement, and perhaps opera, along with a flourishing Quaker culture. (Never mind that the Quaker discipline of the time banned music and fiction as superfluous, vain, and untrue.) Again, though, the projection is toward a place of refinement, culture, and ease rather than the long, hard, physical labor of the masses.
So what, ultimately, is the attraction of historical fiction? Is there some time or place you’d willingly be relocated to, if it were possible, even if you could never come back? And, while we’re at it, what about the importance of location, even over time itself? Who and where would you like to be? Just what is it about other eras? Ah, the intrigue! To say nothing of the underlying connection.
Jnana's Red Barn 
I think a lot of people like to read as a form of escapism. I good novel is like a holiday away from reality but can also be a focus on reality. And that is where historical fiction lies, it seems to me that the joy lies in the fact that it is a form of escapism that has an underlying level of realism and learning, we as humans have a thirst for knowledge and a desire to explore and in reading historical fiction we are exploring, learning and escaping. (I’m not sure if this makes sense, I’m a bit overheated from the sun so my delivery is not that great right now).
Makes sense to me. What I hear you suggesting is the infusion of another layer of storytelling: a period romance, for instance, now has its historical dimension creating two-books-in-one, in effect.
To take this line of thinking even further, could it be that genre works really sink or swim on this secondary narrative rather than their more formulaic genre?
Like you, I have wondered why no one remembers their past life as that of a commoner.
To me, a novel as a time machine is seeing through the eyes of another, hearing what they hear, feeling their feelings, but not being in control of any actions or decisions made. (Unless it a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.) It’s going along for a ride; a spectator sport with the safety net of being able to close the book.
Safety net, indeed. We always get to return to the present, after all.
A former student recently shared this video with me. I thought you might be interested in the premise, since it somewhat pertains to what you’ve written here. I hope you enjoy it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coGpmA4saEk&feature=youtu.be
Thanks! Hope others find it stimulating as well.
I love historic novels, because in part, as someone else said they offer a pure form of escape. I do recognize that we choose to sanitize history for the most part as a society and pick and choose the parts that we write about. Medieval England was, simply put, a disgusting place to live, even if you were the aristocracy but there in lies the beauty of books and words.
Book and words aren’t fettered by the dogma of facts for the most part. They are free to fly and be anything they want to be. My Mr Darcy will not look like the one that is in your head for example, even though we are reading from the same text. Will they both resemble one another? Probably, but they will likely not look exactly the same. Words create images, but our minds fill in the blanks. It’s the same with any historical novel.
Wouldn’t it be interesting to come back in 200 years and write a novel based on today’s society?
Now there’s an interesting writing prompt, trying to write today from a perspective of 200 years out.
Your wonderful comments are rich and thoughtful.