I Was Enjoying The Wackiness Of The Beautiful Possibility Podcast/blog; I Didn't Buy Into The Truly Wild

How to write a historical novel

I recently read two books which could be handily placed on opposing sides of the ‘how to write historical fiction’ spectrum. They are The Map of Love by Adhaf Soueif and Brooklyn by Colm Toibín. One takes in the entire modern history of a particular country through the experiences of its characters, the other’s scope is limited to the point of provinicial. Yet, it is the small story, Toibín’s Brooklyn, that is infinitely more successful. Souief said of her leading male character, Sharif al-Baroudi, that she wanted to write a character one could fall in love with, using the appearance of a romantic hero in Egyptian cinema as her template. The story of the Map of Love is split across the 20th century, focusing on the romance and marriage between Lady Anna Winterbourne and al-Baroudi in Egypt in the 1900s and the discovery of her diaries by two of her female descendents, American Isabel and Egyptian Amal. Soueif had an admirable aim in the book – to tell the little-known story of the nascent Egyptian struggle for independence in the years before the First World War – and while the research is comprehensive and the historical details are fascinating, the characters utterly fail to convince, in my opinion. Lady Anna is too modern a woman to be believable as a character of her time, and her unquestioning, wholehearted adoption of her new husband’s family, culture and country come across as forced rather than romantic. From a secure position within conventional Victorian genteel society, she abruptly and without question pledges uncritical support for the cause of Egyptian independence. Even though she is portrayed as more thoughtful and historically aware than her peers, her decision just doesn’t feel believable. History shows us that the need for independence in former colonies was justified, but it seems implausible that someone like Lady Anna would take that position so quickly and easily in her place and time. The story isn’t helped by the fact that Lady Anna and her husband are too saintly to be true – apart from some minor cultural speedbumps they remain sickeningly in love, without any of the normal gripes and confusions that accompany even the happiest of marriages, let alone one across a cultural gulf. The two are like a cardboard cut-out couple, cloyingly devoted to each other and to the cause of independence with barely a question asked or a dissenting voice raised, and they are also implausibly modern in their attitudes to each other. Perhaps if they were not presented to the reader in the form of Anna’s diary entries a more convincing inner life might have arisen, but as it stands they don’t convince and it is hard to care about them. The modern Egyptian, Amal al-Ghamrawi, is more rounded, but again her edges seem to have been neatly rounded off to leave a character who, despite all her soul-searching, seems somewhat hollow. The main problem with The Map of Love is that the characters seem to have been designed to represent particular things and so perform a kind of wish-fulfilment for the author. Lady Anna is the contrite face of colonial Britain turning her back on her old life to embrace that of the people her nation is oppressing, Sharif al-Baroudi is an unusually enlightened 19th century man who disavows gender stereotypes and political violence and Amal’s brother Omar lives a successful, cosmopolitan life but remains loyal to his ethnic background. It is always obvious to the reader when a writer is using characters as a mouthpiece, and immediately interferes with any spontaneous enjoyment of the text. The Map of Love aims nobly to tell the story of modern Egypt, and does succeed to some extent, but it ultimately fails due to the lack of believable characters. Brooklyn, on the other hand, appears to be telling nothing more than the story of one unremarkable young woman, from an unremarkable town in Ireland, and her emigration to America. Eilis Lacey, the woman in question, is not even moving to New York as we know it from movies – the American sections of the book centre around a few streets of the Irish-American district of Brooklyn with its large Irish community, complete with an omnipresent parish priest. But prosaic though Eilis’ life and experiences may be, her inner world and small conflicts are rendered so thoughtfully and reverentially by Toibín they end up telling a larger story – that of the Irish emigrant experience. Eilis has never expected more than a life in Enniscorthy, working in an office until someone marries her and she devotes life to having his children, but events conspire to send her abroad to work in a department store and study bookkeeping. Initially Brooklyn is not much more exciting than Enniscorthy – Eilis lives in a Irish-run boarding house with a curfew, her days are spent wearily trekking across the shop floor and her free time taken up by evening classes and helping the priest with parish activities. But as time goes by the opportunities American life begin to open themselves up – from exposure to people of different races and cultures, to the excitement of the latest fashions. Toibín is a compassionate author who doesn’t sneer at the joy ordinary people find in ordinary things - in fact he accords these things the respect they deserve. Eilis even finds romance in America, but the slow tugs of obligation from the two sides of her life threaten to undo her when circumstances require to return home to Ireland. The premise of Brooklyn is the choice Eilis must take between her two worlds, and interestingly this choice is not presented as a clichéd split between home, obligation and repression and abroad, freedom and experimentation. On the contrary, Eilis faces potential nooses wherever she looks, and the ties that bind can take unexpected forms. Her mixture of engagement and passivity are wholly convincing as the experiences of an individual, yet also seem to encompass the thoughts and feelings of a whole generation that were put in her position. This novel has no overawed glimpses of the Manhattan skyline for the arriving immigrant, but a collection of moments – a parish hall dance, a trip to a bookshop, a day out in Coney island – to give us a truly authentic sense of the migrant experience. Brooklyn has been as carefully worked and polished as The Map of Love - the difference is the joins are not visible and the author has all but disappeared, and that is why it is the more successful work.

With The Chants (in all, comprised of Joe Ankrah, Eddie Ankrah, Edmund Amoo, Nat Smeda, and Alan Harding) and Little Richard, backstage at the Tower Ballroom in New Brighton on October 12, 1962. Photos by Les Chadwick.

“[Joe Ankrah noted] ‘It was bad enough that the modern moods [racism] never gave a black group a chance, but if not for Paul and his friends, we would have never stayed together… In fact, I think that meeting the Beatles changed the direction of my life.’ Ankrah also makes it clear that, in a sea of intolerance, Paul and the Beatles stood out, and stood up for him and his bandmates. ‘They were very cool guys, and meeting them gave us a look at real opportunity.’ […] [T]he Beatles, surrounded by postwar racial and religious bigotry, went against the grain and gave a black group a break, even was they were pursuing their own dream. […] ‘Could I have imagined a future like that? Who could? But, looking back, I knew they had something special, and a level of compassion that was truly unusual for a band on the move.’ - Joe Ankrah [of The Chants], Beatles friend whose band was pushed through racial barriers by the boys” - When They Were Boys by Larry Kane “They went ‘apeshit’ when we started to sing. I can still see George and John racing up to the stage with their mouths stuffed with hot dogs or whatever. The invitation to make our Cavern debut was given as soon as we finished ‘A Thousand Stars’ for them. They insisted we perform that very night. Everything happened completely spontaneously from that point. The Beatles themselves offered to back us when we told them we’d never worked with a band before. We then rehearsed four songs with them and then we ran home to tell all and sundry that we had ‘made it’!” When Brian Epstein arrived at the Cavern that night he refused to allow the Beatles to back us, but they collectively persuaded him to change his mind – and when he heard us he invited us to appear on many subsequent appearances with them.” - Eddie Amoo, Mersey Beat via TriumphPC “When the Beatles became big they were great about us. They went round telling everyone we were great, and when they were on Juke Box Jury, they played our record ‘I Could Write A Book’ and the Beatles raved about it and voted us a hit!” - Alan Harding, Record Mirror, June 25, 1966

I enjoy your blog and opinion especially father and son McCartney. I don't mean anything bad with this post. I just try to understand Paul a bit more. Can you give some opinion about Paul's relationship with his Mother Mary, the aunts, and the stepmother and sister Ruth. I've seen some posts and read a few biographs but it doesn"t really seem to fit. Do you think his Mother would have allowed Paul to become a part if the band? And this is just a personal question to you. Do you think that Paul's father might have thought about the queer posibilty with Paul and John?

Hahaha you're like "you do know he has other family members too, right?"

And you are so correct! Thanks for asking this, I'm really excited to get into my thoughts on these extremely niche, rare Beatles characters lol.

Long rambling road under the cut

Mary:

Born to an Irish immigrant father and a Liverpool-Irish mother in Liverpool.

When her mother died when she was very young, her father lost everything in a horse racing bet and moved them back to a tiny farm in Ireland where she was expected to become the new mother to her younger siblings

When her father remarried, his new wife basically acted like Cinderella's step mother to Mary, so she found shelter with some aunts in Liverpool.

At 14, she started working full time as a nurse, while continuing to train to expand her skill set.

By the time WWII came around, she was a state registered nurse and midwife.

She was 31 when she met Jim. At that age at that time, she was considered a spinster. Secondary sources say she was too career-driven to have thought of marriage, and that's possible. But my theory is she just wasn't interested in the whole husband and kids thing after her childhood experiences. Whatever the case, Jim won her over easily, according to sources.

Jim also won her over when it came to religious studies. Apparently, before Jim Mary was a somewhat faithful Catholic, and though it mattered enough to her to have her boys baptized (or christened or whatever it is they do to babies) and taught the basics of the religion at home, she agreed they would not go to Catholic school or attend mass. My theory is this was a class climbing thing.

Because they were part of the war effort, Jim and Mary were allowed to live in government housing, and they continued doing so after the war because Mary continued working for the government.

Paul and Mike always say it was her choice to constantly be moving to slightly nicer apartments in slightly nicer areas. I don't know if she earned that choice through just being really dedicated to her job or through diplomacy with whoever was in charge of that or both, but I would love to know. We know Paul got his diplomacy skills from Jim and trauma, but could be also have some from Mary's side?

Mary was apparently quite strict with her children, had extremely high expectations for academics, behavior, cleanliness, and even accent. She must have approved at least to some degree of Jim's corporal punishment, because she would threaten to call him in when she was very upset with her sons (for example, when Paul drew a nude woman at school). She was the more affectionate parent, but neither Paul nor Mike describe her as notably cuddly or doting, and if she only managed to say to her husband that she loved him on her death bed, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibilities that she did the same to her children.

When Paul has been asked about his earliest memory, he has mentioned three things that I'm aware of. 1. Waiting to hit some bully over the head with a crow bar (sounds too crazy to be true but also too crazy to be a lie) 2. A neighbor gifting his mother a porcelain doll in gratitude for her work to bring their baby into the world (he says people would bring gifts often) 3. His mother bicycling to work in the snow (she continued to ride her bicycle to work even doubled over in pain during her struggle with breast cancer, and she was on call at all hours of the night and day)

Although Mary worked very hard outside the home and always made more money than Jim, it seems she also took on the majority, if not the entirely, of the housework. Before her death, Paul remembers her heaping piles of pancakes on shrove Tuesday, sugar butties, scouse, and yorkshire pudding with golden syrup. After Mary's death, Mike remembers eating bread fried in lard, fighting over it with Paul, and ending up throwing it at the wall, leaving a stain, and getting in trouble. Paul also took on cooking responsibility after Mary's death. Mary kept the house immaculately clean. She refused to own a clothes washer, saying it was immoral. When she was literally about to die from tumors in her breasts and brain, Mary deep the whole house and laid out her children's clothes, so everything would be ready if she didn't come back. (Which is insane on multiple levels. 1. That poor woman. Why did she feel like she had to do all that? 2. As a mom, I'd rather spend that time doing some activity my children enjoyed or talking with them or writing them letters or something, but for whatever reason, either Mary just didn't have that in her, or she genuinely thought the house was more important)

Paul definitely has (or had) a lot of strong feelings about Mary. Two of his biggest regrets as far as things he wishes he hadn't said had to do with her. The first was while she was alive. She, as mentioned before, was very big on the Received Pronunciation accent because she was very big on giving her sons a better life than she'd been given and at the time that was a major key to the class ladder. Anyway, once, when they had company over, Mary was trying to talk posh, and Paul corrected her in front of the company and she was clearly very embarrassed and he immediately regretted it and continued to regret it for decades. Then there's the infamous (VALID!) "what are we going to do without her money?" quote, which has been talked about. I bring it up here to point out that pre-teen Paul very much depended on his mother financially. Speaking of memories of his mother, though, Paul said, in the early 2000s I believe, that if he could go back in time for any reason, it would be to spend more time with his mother.

The family didn't have money for a marked grave at the time (I assume) and her grave remains unmarked to this day, probably for privacy and respect, but someone on the Mohin side of the family made a big stink about it on the internet because Paul was apparently stingy with that side of the family. Whatever.

My I guess nutshell take on Mary is this. Paul didn't really think his mom was cool like he thought his dad was, but he understood that she was the parent he needed to model himself after if he was going to be successful, so he tried to be practical, hard working, perfectionistic, ambitious, stoic, dependable, gentle, strong, etc like she was.

Mike:

I really think this quote sort of defines the complication and depth of love in their relationship.

Everybody was quite confident that Paul would pass the eleven-plus – for Mum and Dad thought of him as the brains of the family. And of course, he didn’t let us down, because he was a natural at exams. When I passed in my turn, it was so unexpected, apparently, that Mum burst out crying – I think the idea that she had two “intelligent” sons was too much for her! They say sensitivity often goes with intelligence and certainly I’d say this was true of Paul. Although on the surface he tried to give the impression that he was a fairly tough, swashbuckling, mildly-tearaway character, underneath there was a great deal of thoughtfulness and real tenderness.” – Mike McCartney, 1965

They also did all the normal sibling stuff like dangerous dares, rough housing embarrassment, stupid shenanigans, etc, and there are stories of Paul coming to Mike's aid when it came to bullies at school and their dad. There's all the great pictures Mike took of Paul with the camera Paul got him, the McGear album, and Paul being Mike's best man.

My take is that they were and are very close and loving and protective of each other despite being sort of accidentally pitted against each other by the toxic family roles they fell into.

Aunts:

Just on Jim's side there were six aunts, and on Mary's there were potentially three, though I'm not sure how close they were with that side of the family.

btw very weird naming going on. There's an Ann and an Annie as well as having an auntie Jin, Jim's older sister.

Jim's side actually started having these "family sing songs" when he was very young for the purpose of making money for the family the minute they were gifted that piano Paul learned on. They'd advertise and charge for admission to these things. They kept them up, just for a family bonding experience, long after they'd all got grown up jobs and spouses and kids. Paul remembers these events extremely fondly, credits them for much of his success as a composer, and brings them up any time anyone asks about his family life growing up. The drunken singing aunties generally feature prominently. Paul also kept up the tradition at least into the late seventies.

Paul and Mike were sent to live with a few different aunties for a few months after Mary's death while the family tried to get Jim's suicidal ideation etc under control. Accounts vary, but I believe it was once of these aunts who told them the news about their mother and sent them to school that very day.

Some of the aunts would take turns coming on about a biweekly basis to help Jim Paul and Mike around the house after Mary's death. We don't know if this continued indefinitely or just until they could get their feet under them again. Either way, they definitely get points for doing that.

Auntie Jin once told Mike and Paul off for looking unhappy soon after their mother's death and reminded them to think of their father and stop acting so sad. Well meaning, I'm sure, since she was probably terrified for them that one little thing could result in their losing a second parent in the most horrible way. But. Definitely scaring.

Auntie Jin was known as "control" and was very much the Queen Bea of the family.

Once Paul got money, he began paying for extended family expenses, like phone bills, hospital stays, or new furniture. This obviously includes the aunties.

When the extended family heard he was getting into weed, they sent Auntie Jin to go talk some sense into him, but he converted her and she went home and converted the whole family.

My general take on the aunties is this. They all seem to be doing their very very best with very very little. I don't even begrudge the emotional abuse because they genuinely didn't have a better option. I do wince at the financial exploitation, but only slightly. It's one of those things where you would hope they'd have a little more empathy for their nephew holding up the family like Louisa from Encanto, but nobody is perfect.

Angie:

Married a man almost 30 years her senior after meeting him five times to make sure he had full access to his millionaire son's bank account.

Enabled, or at least did nothing to stop, her husband's crippling gambling addiction, instead allowing her stepson to cover the damages.

Resented when said unlimited bank account turned into an allowance upon said son's marriage and fatherhood.

Panicked when her ancient husband kicked it and immediately sold off the famous son's personal childhood mementos while he was conveniently in another country for work.

Got pissed and went to the press when stepson cut her off.

Calls herself Mrs McCartney to this day for marketing purposes and milks that dead relationship like an abused dairy cow.

Do I blame her for getting that bag? Not really. Am I a fan? Not really.

Ruth:

Remembers thinking Jim's new mansion and the nice things inside it were impossibly huge and fantastic when she first met him.

Remembers Jim as kind, gentle, and stoic.

Remembers Paul's time with Jane Asher very fondly and seems almost to credit her for her positive early memories of Paul, such as them (she also remembers John) teaching her how to ride a bike or taking her shopping. Paul bought her a dog and they'd play in the backyard and experiment when being parents on her and she loved it.

Her remembrances shift dramatically with the arrival of Linda. The shared bank account closed, Paul was focused on his actual children, and she has a few memories of Paul verbally taking out his pain on her similar to the apple employees.

Then, she gets almost Francie Schwartz levels of bitter after Paul cut her and her mother off. She was almost seventeen, and Paul had paid for her to go to all the best schools all her life and set her up with every possible advantage, not to mention the famous connection she'd go on to drag into the next century. I don't feel bad at all.

My basic take on her is this. Spoiled brat. Excellent source on Paul and his dad.

Did Jim think John and Paul might've been gay for each other?

My gut tells me yes, but there's really no way of knowing. Jim might've hated John because he was worried about Paul's sexuality, or he might've just hated John for being a positive presence in his son's life who encouraged independence. Who knows?

looking up gay bars and I found one with a giant John Lennon picture painted on the wall

reblog w the song lyrics in your head NOW. either stuck in yr head or what yr listening to

A couple of fics I wrote

I got an ao3 account this year and have 2 3 fics in the Beatles fandom that I'm a little proud of. Both character studies focused on late 1970s John in NYC. Have a read if you're so inclined. Username bodhbdearg.

Where I would be: Househusband era John is very depressed and disengaged from music, but is nudged out of it by folksinging lesbians & NYC queer culture.

Singing a song of ruin: Writing DF-era John is no longer depressed, and spends a night trying to talk someone out of jumping off a bridge.

Update, new WIP:

3. Under his carpet: Linda Eastman McCartney reflects on the ups and downs of her marriage to Paul in a series of snapshots between 1968 and 1990.

Chapter 3: Rulers make bad lovers

New fic: Under his carpet

Under his carpet: Linda Eastman McCartney reflects on the ups and downs her marriage to Paul in a series of snapshots between 1968 and 1990. Chapter 1 of 5 posted.

Plinda fans/Paul superfans dni (JOKING! No sugarcoating, but not a hatchet job on either. Most of it is based on fact, but plenty is invented - speculative fiction an' all that.)

While not shying away from the darker sides of the marriage, this story is primarily intended as a character study about flawed individuals, none of whom are villains. It also explores the tension between visually appearing liberated, as many Boomer women did, and the reality of their domestic lives. A tension which is still relevant today.

New fic: Under his carpet

Under his carpet: Linda Eastman McCartney reflects on the ups and downs her marriage to Paul in a series of snapshots between 1968 and 1990. Chapter 1 of 5 posted.

Plinda fans/Paul superfans dni (JOKING! No sugarcoating, but not a hatchet job on either. Most of it is based on fact, but plenty is invented - speculative fiction an' all that.)

While not shying away from the darker sides of the marriage, this story is primarily intended as a character study about flawed individuals, none of whom are villains. It also explores the tension between visually appearing liberated, as many Boomer women did, and the reality of their domestic lives. A tension which is still relevant today.