How far should accuracy go in literature?

When writing a book a certain degree of research is necessary. When writing a book in the genre of historical fiction an awful lot of research is necessary. The question is; how accurate should you be in your depiction of the facts that?

I have mentioned preciously that the author Bernard Cornwell once said that a writer should not let the facts get in the way of a good story. I have also mentioned that I agree with this statement. The point is that when you are writing story that is what you are writing; a piece of fiction. Not an academic study, not a treatise on a particular incident; you are writing fiction!

Of course if you want the readers of a particular genre to like what you write then there has to be a degree of accuracy in the facts as you present them. The actual percentage of accuracy is not written down anywhere, it is something that you have to figure out for yourself.

Does it really matter?

Let’s look briefly at two case studies. First Patrick O’Brian’s ‘Master and Commander’, a very popular book based on the exploits of a British Royal Navy captain’s adventures during the Napoleonic Wars.

O’Brian’s knowledge of the nautical culture of 19^th century ships was impressive and every page is full of technical references to ‘sheet’ and ‘yards’ and ‘beams’ etc. My knowledge is actually pretty limited, so when I came to read this book I quickly found myself thumbing to the back in the expectation of finding a lexicon of naval terms – only there wasn’t one. I found myself trying to figure out what each term meant; which slowed my reading down and ultimately left me feeling frustrated when I got to the end of the book.

It was okay having all this wonderful detail but the author had failed to consider that one or more of his readers might not have the knowledge that would have made it plain sailing. In this instance I found that the facts got in the way of the story.

Second; Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. A very popular technological thriller exploring the very original idea of cloning dinosaurs from preserved DNA.

Michael Crichton studied medicine and had a good background in science but his most famous book suffers from poor research. The Velociraptors that he wanted to use were actually too small to play the part but there was another dinosaur that fitted the role much better but it was called Deinonychus; Chricton simply used swapped them over but kept the name Velociraptor.

Another famous, or should that be ‘infamous’, oversight concerned the Tyrannosaurus Rex, which in novel is stated as having eye sight that responded to movement. Crichton had seen a paper from a young palaeontologist who had rushed his research into print claiming just this fact but it was later refuted by senior scientists. The idea suited Crichton’s story, however, so he left it in.

In contrast to Patrick O’Brian’s novel anyone without much prior knowledge of dinosaurs could read and enjoy Jurassic Park without any trouble whatsoever; the same cannot be said for anyone who did, however.

I think this illustrates what I mean about accuracy being a balancing act.

As a writer I think that there is an ethical obligation to get the core facts of your story right. Essentially, whatever you are writing about, almost irrespective of genre, should be accurate to the degree that the reader can have confidence in you knowing your stuff. That is not to say that every single reference, every statement by every character, every line you write, has to be dripping with authenticity, because that would turn your story into an academic tome. It would also mean that you would have to find some way of explaining to the uninitiated reader each and every esoteric term, which would slow the story down immensely. Also, I think the reader also has an obligation when commencing a book to be able to suspend their factual belief to a certain degree as well. A novel is not wrong just because it presents an event in a slightly different fashion to how historians present it, for example, it is just offering an alternative interpretation of the events in, hopefully, an interesting way. As long as they key facts remain unchanged, such as in my work on 1066 where none of the major events change in anyway but where the agents of certain actions, whether fictional or historical personages, might differ from those recorded.

In other words, what I am saying is that there is a need to respect those facts that are germane to your subject matter and there is an option to gently alter others so as to make your story all the more exciting, all the more readable, and all the more believable to your reader.

The Social World of the Anglo-Saxons: The Theigns

Above the ceorls, the peasants of the Anglo-Saxon world, sat the ‘theigns’. They were to all intents and purposes the middle class. To qualify as a theign a man needed to own a minimum of 5 hides of land. A hide was not an exact measurement in Anglo-Saxon England but roughly equated to enough land for a family to live on. Although a ceorl from the top end of that class, a geatsas, might own that much or even more land this alone did not qualify them to be considered theign-worthy; they still had to be promoted to that position.

Theigns were appointed by the king initially and they did service to him accordingly, if they failed in this respect they could lose their lands and be demoted to the peasant classes or even suffer execution if their transgression was considered serious enough. In the begin it seems that theigns were warriors who took on the more common duties of management and they were made responsible for overseeing the building and maintaining of defences, bridges, and the organisation of the fyrd; the Saxon army. They were expected to give military service for which they would supply their own equipment; horses, servants, arms and armour. Later, the theigns also took on a more administrative role in ensuring that the peasant classes obeyed the king’s law and fulfilled their duties.

As with the peasants the theigns had within their class further sub-divisions but these were not as clearly separated as in the ceorls. A theign’s rank with regard to his peers would largely depend upon how much land and wealth he owned. Lower theigns would have at least the minimum five hides although most would have more than that. Middling theigns would probably have double to three times as much whereas high-theigns would own land holdings of the size of estates.

Royal-theigns were high-theigns who had been appointed by the king and they were only one step down from becoming eoldermen, that is, a member of the ruling classes. As with the peasants ability and achievement were rewarded with grants of land and money, so it was quite possible for an adept Saxon to move from being a ceorl to becoming a theign. The law did not allow him to move beyond that class but his son, if equally capable, had the opportunity to become an eolderman and be granted an eorldom of his own.

As with huscarls the king was not alone in enjoying the service of theigns, particularly rich eoldermen also appointed their own theigns. Indeed, it was even possible for a high-theign to have lower theigns giving service to them.

In many respects the theigns were the backbone of the fyrd. They could be expected to be reasonably well equipped and they had the wealth to allow them the time to practice the martial arts needed by a Saxon warrior. Although not as numerous as the coerls the theigns were a more capable body of fighting men and would have formed the front line of a shield wall; most certainly they would be in the second line. Battle gave the theigns a chance to prove their bravery and prowess, and many a many enjoyed the boon of a new grant of land or pieces of gold given by whichever lord they owed allegiance to after such a display. This would make them eager warriors and, therefore, dangerous men when swords were drawn and battle joined.

The Social World of the Anglo-Saxons: The Peasants

One of the features of the Anglo-Saxon social structure was its’ obsession with class. There were three basic classes, the ceorls or peasants, the theigns or landowners, and the eoldermen or nobility. These classes were further subdivided again creating a ladder for the socially mobile to climb.

The ceorls were the most numerous and, therefore, the lowest class. They lived and worked almost exclusively on the land although some also lived in cities like York and London. The ceorls were divided into smaller sub-classes again beginning with the geneatas who were usually the richest of the peasants. They were ‘free-folk’ who gave service to the fyrd, the Anglo-Saxon army on a regular basis, and could speak at public meetings.

The geneatas paid a rent to their lord for the land that they occupied but they could also receive land as a gift if they gave good service. Lords might also demand other services from their geneatas, such as maintenance work, carrying messages, supply carts for general usage and even entertain their lord. The geneatas were also expected to pay church tithes. They may also have been required to give their theign a percentage of any crops that they farmed or even one of their animals such as a pig. However, any profit that they did make they could keep.

Kotsetlas formed the second subgroup. They paid for their land through supplying their lord with labour whenever it was needed so avoided any levy of rent. Like the geneatas they could profit from their own hard work but how often they got to spend any time on their own land depended on how frequently they were called to work their lord’s land instead, this seems to have varied from one to three days a week and would probably have been more during harvest. They also paid dues to the church although it was acceptable to pay in produce rather than coin.

Finally came the gebur. Of all the classes of free folk they clearly had the hardest bargain as they were entirely dependent upon their lord for food and protection. They paid for everything with their labour and would not have had much free time with which to improve their lot.

The relationship between lord and coerl worked both ways, however. There was a prescribed duty on the part of the lord to ensure that each of his ceorls had enough land to work according to their class and they were even to supply the peasants with animals such as oxen and sheep.

The line of distinction between the three classes seems somewhat blurred to us now. Social progression was a fact of life for the Saxons and ability, as well as other such qualities as bravery and loyalty, were often rewarded; sometimes handsomely. It was a tradition in the shared culture of the various peoples that made up the different strands of the Anglo-Saxons for their lord, whether a chieftan or a king, to be a giver of rings. Ring giving dates back beyond the time in which the epic poem Beowulf is set and was considered an important aspect of lordship. It probably originally began as a means for a lord to reward his brave warriors after a battle, a means by which the booty could be shared out amongst the war-band. As the Saxon civilisation became more sophisticated ring giving also included the gift of parcels of land and the promotion of certain individuals to become companions of the lord (this being a companion in a military sense). Able ceorls could see themselves promoted by the recognition that their hard work earned them as a result, indeed if they owned enough property they could enter into the next class, the theigns, and enjoy their rights and privileges.

There was one class below the gebur but it was not strictly speaking a sub-division of the ceorls and that was the theow. Theow were not free-folk and lacked all of their rights as a result; they were slaves. No one was born into slavery in Anglo-Saxon England; it was a state a person entered into through misadventure in most cases. The commonest reason would be through being captured in war. Some people entered the estate of the theow in order to escape destitution; they were the bondsmen. Whatever the reason a free man or woman could sell their service to another Saxon for a fixed term agreed in bond. Although slavery seems objectionable to us now it was considered a normal part of life amongst the Saxons, so normal even that they even had laws governing the treatment of slaves including how much food they should receive and even an entitlement to a piece of land to plough for themselves. Theow could even own property and were allowed to earn money in any spare time that they might have. It was even possible for them to earn enough to buy back their freedom.

Life must have been hard for the peasant classes of the Anglo-Saxon world but they were also an important part of that world. They had rights and means to pursuing grievances under the king’s law. Although they paid much to their lords they did so knowing that they received something in return. The lords were obliged to keep the peace, enforce the law, and protect settlements against raiding parties, both Vikings and other Saxons. There was a tradition of charity so that even the poorest were looked after to some degree and when the great long hall was used for feasting there was even a system of feeding each class according to their rank so that no one was left out.

As the Saxon world progressed many ceorls took up trades rather than the usual working of the land and became successful traders or craftsmen. Indeed, the Saxons appear to have been wonderful workers of precious metals and produced some items of genuine beauty as seen in the recently discovered Staffordshire Horde. Their social world must have been vibrant and robust as people of ability worked their way up to the next class, sadly it was all to come to an end in October 1066 when the Normans effectively robbed the Saxons of their inherent freedom and reduced the peasants to little more than slaves through the imposition of serfdom.

What is a huscarl?

A huscarl was a Saxon warrior. They were generally rich men in that they had to be able to afford to equip themselves with at least two horses, steel mail armour, a steel helmet, weapons such as a fighting spear, throwing spears, a Dane-axe, a shield and, perhaps most importantly, a gold decorated two edged sword.

As they were professional warriors they could not have a trade like the peasant classes or a farm like the theigns as these would be distractions. They had to have the time to spend honing their martial skills by constant training; they were an elite force as a result. They could and did own estates that brought them in money but they would be run by trusted servants.

The term ‘huscarl’ meant ‘hearth companion’ and this reflects one of the chief aspects of the post. Originally it was the king who would be attended by such men as he was rich enough to pay them. The Viking kings of the Dane-Law in England are believed to have introduced this idea and it was copied by the Saxons, especially those lords rich enough.

The Saxon huscarl was not just a companion but also a bodyguard to their lord. They swore a death-oath to protect him. If their lord fell in battle then the huscarls were honour bound to either kill all of his enemies or die on the same field. If they should survive the battle then they would recover their lord’s body and see it given a fitting funeral.

Huscarls were ruled by their oath of allegiance however it was not absolute for the full term of their lives. Each year they would renew their oath to their lord but they retained the right to end their service at their own choice. Members of the fyrd, the Saxon army raised by limited conscription, never had this choice; they had to serve as a matter of obedience to the king’s law.

Anglo-Saxons people were quite fond of displaying their wealth in clothes, possessions, and jewellery but they were also a people given to war. Since they invaded Britain in the 4^th century they had been fighting to establish kingdoms and then, a little later, fighting the Vikings to defend those kingdoms. It is not surprising, therefore, that rich noblemen saw possessing a body of huscarls as an excellent way to display their power and wealth.

Life for a huscarl was one of danger and adventure. They would be responsible not just for their lord’s immediate security but also for enforcing his law, which was derived from the king. For good or brave service they could expect to be rewarded with gold, traditionally in the form of circlet to be worn about the head, but later measured in land as well. They were expected to be loyal and would demonstrate this by following their lord into exile if he were to suffer such a fate at the decree of the king, as many of the nobility actually did.

As a result of their elite status there were never very many huscarls. The need to possess a degree of wealth to begin with was a barrier to most people in the Saxon world but it was not an impossible one to overcome. 

The Saxons valued ability over class and people of skill and ambition could rise through the classes with a little good fortune. If a peasant man was brave enough and lucky to have the opportunity he could be rewarded by his theign for deeds enacted on the field of battle. From there he could become a butescarl, a mercenary soldier, and hire his sword to lords not rich enough to hire huscarls of their own. If he kept his rewards he could in time invest his wealth in the trappings of a huscarl and seek employment with someone blessed with the appropriate wealth; this was the path taken by Thrydwulf in The Sorrow Song Trilogy. No matter how a man won his gold decorated sword it was a badge of his rank and his membership to a brotherhood that was an elite fighting force of the early medieval period.

Flippin’ ‘eck – that’s brilliant!!

I was talking my wife last night, something that we are prone to do over a glass of wine, and she pressed me on when is my book going to get published? It was a good question that has been frequently asked over the many, many months I have been working on it and, as on previous occasions, I had no definite answer.

We then discussed why I did not have a set date in mind. Now obviously it is impossible to set such a date when you do not have a publisher, never mind not having a literary agent, especially if you are trying to go down the traditional route of publishing.

As she pointed out, however, I had made another submission; why not set a date in consideration of that fact?

This was a good point, in my wine drinking estimation. I knew before hand that the odds are stacked against me when it comes to getting a sympathetic viewing from an agent. I made my submission on Sunday muttering to myself this ancient adage; hope for the best, expect the worst, and take what comes!

Glancing back at my pre-submission notes I confirmed that there was approximately a 6 week wait before I could expect to hear anything from the agent. 6 weeks would put me in the middle of July. That might be a good time to e-publish? However, we have a family holiday booked for August; I don’t want to be away after the launch because getting the word out each and every day is important if you want to succeed. Then my muse hit me with another brilliant idea; why not launch your book on the anniversary day of the battle it chronicles?

Flippin’ ‘eck – that’s brilliant!!

Tying the two in together would give me time to build up my social media network, iron out any manuscript problems, develop the website more, research e-publishing fully and be ready on the big day!

So, if my latest attempt to capture a literary agent alive and kicking does fail here’s my plan-b. This book is going to take its’ first steps into the big bad world one way or another, I mean, it’s not as if we write these things so that no one else gets to read them other than us is it?!

It's Late in the Day but it it's necessary

It’s not something you expect the day after you put down the manuscript and say to yourself; “that’s finished then!” but there’s that little voice inside your head, whispering like Gollum; “you know he’s right precious!”

He was right and I was wrong.

The thing is if you ask people to read your manuscript and give you some feedback then you have to accept their comments with good grace, so when my friend told me to change the first chapter I should have considered his opinion seriously and not just ignored it.

Did I know that he was right even then?

Probably. The thing is I liked my fists chapter but I knew also that it just did not cut the mustard as far as opening chapters go. He suggested promoting the second chapter because it had everything a first chapter should; pace, excitement, a big brawl.

Then again, the original first chapter had some mystery about it, some good descriptive writing; I thought it made a good opening but I knew it did not make a smash an grab entrance.

Deciding to rewrite an entire chapter at this late stage is not something to be taken lightly but it had to be done. More than that the only way I could rescue something from the old chapter one was to merge it with an existing chapter as the same principal character appears in both of them.

So I copied the two chapters into a new file and opened a fresh blank sheet and then waited for something to happen. And it did. A new scene flowed from my fingers that helped add a new dimension to a historical character. It was curiously reminiscent to an earlier scene featuring the main protagonist, that is, similar but not the same. It created a link between the two that I could build upon in the second novel.

The strength of this new chapter seemed to be demonstrated by the fact that I could insert much of what I thought was my best writing in the original opening chapter. By using a simple writing device I was able to combine the new and the old in something that was much better.

Surprisingly this did not take too long either. I tapped out over 5,000 words in a couple of hours, reviewed it, rewrote a bit, and then inserted it seamlessly into the main manuscript.

It felt good. It felt right. I wish I had done it earlier. I suppose that is the lesson that has to be learnt; if you ask for advice you have to be honest enough to listen to what is given to you, that way you won’t end up making last minute major alterations to your work!