And How to Use Them to Deepen Your Characters
Guest Post by Martha Conway —
Most of us settle into a good historical novel waiting for details—the clink of a tea service, the jousting helmet, the quaint term aeroplane—to transport us to another world. Period details are, after all, the historical novel’s “tell.”
However, period details can do more than transport the reader. For the writer of historical fiction, these details can be a meaningful tool for building and deepening character.
Historical Details with Emotional Meanings
There is a long tradition of the “talisman” in fiction: an object, like a letter or a locket, that the character takes out every now and then to remind her of someone or something. A talisman not only represents the character’s past, but is infused with an emotional or psychological meaning. It’s important not because it means something to the reader, but because it means something to the character. It’s a historical detail with an emotional punch.
Another effective technique is to use that talisman to indicate change. Does your character burn the letter at the story’s midpoint, signifying she is going to do things her own way? Lose the locket? Or learn something new about it that changes its meaning for her?
In The Exiles by Christina Baker Kline, a ruby ring is the instrument for Evangeline Stokes’ banishment to Australia. Later, that same ring is used by her daughter to demonstrate her agency. Women going from victimization to independence is one of the themes of this novel, and the ruby ring is a symbol of that.
Objects that resurface and change in meaning is a clever tool to signal a character or thematic pivot. But even if the object appears only once, you can exploit it to reveal a character’s personality, her desires, her shortcomings, and/or her change of heart.
Look at some of the historical details you have, or plan to have, in your story. Ask yourself:
- Does my character have a history with this object? Is it tied to family, or to an experience in the past? If so, make that manifest on the page.
- Can the object trigger a memory that deepens character or plot?
- Can the object be used to spur a decision?
Readers understand and appreciate objects as symbols. For the writer, objects are a great way to speed up the narrative, minimizing time spent on interior reflection, which can slacken the pace.
Setting as Historical Detail
Setting is character, as the old saying goes. The world a character finds herself in will necessarily influence her actions and her thoughts. And the well-built world you as a writer have created will transport readers more swiftly into your story.
But world building can be more than just a complex stage set; it can also be used to reveal character. And not just the overall setting, but the setting of any small scene. Any room, any garden, any swamp or city slum can be used as an exterior mirror reflecting a character’s interior life. A character walks into a low-ceilinged room and feels trapped. A character looks out at the ocean and feels hope, or feels small, or feels isolated, depending on the story.
A lesser-used but powerful technique is to use the same setting to mirror two different characters’ contrasting thoughts and feelings. In my novel We Meet Apart, two American sisters are trapped in Ireland during World War II. Although they both end up working in the kitchen of a country manor house, that kitchen means something completely different to each of them. To one, the kitchen is a cage and her work there a punishment. To the other, the kitchen is a place of safety and camaraderie.
Using the same setting to showcase different characters’ internal lives is an effective way of deepening two characters at the same time. Whenever you compare and contrast different characters, the reader learns more about each of them—and in half the time!
The world of your protagonist will probably change as your story unspools, and the historical details you use will also change to reflect this. Does your protagonist leave the countryside for the city? How she deals with the new objects in the city will reveal character—her unease, her enthusiasm, her fear, or maybe her sense of freedom. Or, if the world doesn’t change, you can use that fact to demonstrate that your character ultimately does not change, either.
Every object in every novel can be exploited for emotional resonance. Historical novelists are, rightly, warned against “information dumps.” However, if you keep in mind the meaning your character gleans from the period details you use, you are less likely to fall prey to this danger. As Donald Maass writes in The Emotional Craft of Fiction, “Dry information is only dry when it doesn’t mean anything to anyone.”
Martha Conway’s latest novel, We Meet Apart, is historical fiction mixed with a touch of magical realism, and is set in Ireland during World War II. Martha’s previous novels include The Underground River, which was a New York Times Book Editor’s Picks, and 12 Bliss Street, which was nominated for an Edgar Award. Her short fiction has been published in The Iowa Review, Folio, Carolina Quarterly, and other journals. She is a recipient of a California Arts Council fellowship, and she teaches creative writing for Stanford University’s Continuing Studies program. A midwestern girl at heart, Martha now lives in California with her family.
