Helena Schrader's Historical Fiction

For a complete list of my books and awards see: http://helenapschrader.com

For readers tired of clichés and cartoons, award-winning novelist Helena P. Schrader offers nuanced insight into historical events and figures based on sound research and an understanding of human nature. Her complex and engaging characters bring history back to life as a means to better understand ourselves.

Showing posts with label Historical Biography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Historical Biography. Show all posts

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Cast of Characters: Ernoul



Envoy of Jerusalem, being biographical fiction, is populated predominantly by historical figures--from Balian d'Ibelin himself and his wife to Richard the Lionheart. In earlier entries I introduced the most important of these characters such as the Leper King, Guy de Lusignan and his brother Aimery, the queens Sibylla and Isabella etc., providing short biographies. But no novel lives entirely from characters so significant that they left a mark in history. Furthermore, I enjoy writing in characters that I can "control" completely and develop without regard for historical reality. Over the next several weeks I will be introducing the completely fictional "supporting cast" from Envoy of Jerusalem one at a time.  

First, however, I need to explain about two characters that are more fictional than real despite being real people:  Ernoul, Balian's squire, and Eschiva, his niece. While both these characters actually lived and are mentioned in the historical record, very little is known about them beyond their names and station. As a result, I have effectively invented their characters.  Today I will explain about Ernoul.

Ernoul was the author of an account in the vernacular (French) describing the last decades of the 12th century in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. We know his name because he tells it to us in a single passage in which he also describes himself as being in the service and company of Balian d'Ibelin. The circumstances make it most likely that Ernoul was a squire to Ibelin at the time of the incident described (the battle at the Springs of Cresson late 1186). However, we know literally nothing else about "Ernoul" -- which was likely a variant French spelling of the now more familiar name Arnold. 

If the assumption about Ernoul being a squire in 1186 is correct, he was probably from another noble family in Outremer and little more than a teenager at the time of Hattin. The loss of the kingdom would have left him penniless and landless and like many other young noblemen from the former Kingdom of Jerusalem, he would have had to make a new life for himself either in the much-reduced and reorganized Kingdom of Acre or on Cyprus. Margaret Ruth Morgan, a historian who studied the various texts based on his lost chronicle in great depth, has suggested he is the same person as a certain Arnaux/Arnais de Gibelet, who was later an influential person in the Kingdom of Cyprus -- at a time when Balian's eldest son was one of the most powerful barons on the island. 

Furthermore, Ernoul's orginial account of the events surrounding the fall of Jerusalem has been lost. What we have today are fragments of this account incorporated into chronicles copied down by monks in various places in the West. The clerical chroniclers were concerned with recording history by integrating different sources to try to create as comprehensive a picture of events as possible. They did not, in the modern usage, provide footnotes of their sources, nor care much about preserving intact the authentic voice of any of their sources, let alone this comparatively obscure man from Outremer. The chronicles were furthermore revised and corrupted by frequent copying over time. The text gradually became corrupted; whole passages were omitted. In short, we have little more than snippets of Ernoul's original work.

Aside from the one presumed "fact" that Ernoul was a youth from a local, noble family in his late teens in 1186, we know nothing about Ernoul. We don't know when he was born, when he died, if he was the eldest son (heir) or a younger (landless) son, if and when he married, if he had children, if he was later powerful and influential, or -- significantly -- when he wrote his account. The fact that he wrote in French rather than Latin does suggest he was not a cleric, however, at the time of writing, so he is presumed to have pursued a secular career. The assumption of historians is that he wrote several years after the fact, that he had the perspective of the "poulains" (the natives of Outremer), and that he was biased in favor of the Ibelins and so painted Balian in a particularly favorable light.

As a novelist, I wanted to integrate this important historical source into my story, and I decided that if a secular man was literary enough to write a history (albeit in the vernacular) in later  years, he might have been a lover of literature as a young man too. My Ernoul is therefore a youth initially intended for the Church, who only finds himself in training at arms because of the untimely death of his elder brother. Once I'd made Ernoul a bit bookish, I found it easy to make him an amateur musician as well, and so a composer of songs. My Ernoul is, you see, not terribly good at knightly skills and so channels his energies into other fields. (An interpretation supported incidentally by the fact that Arnais de Gybelet, that Morgan believes to have been Ernoul's identity in 1232 was a noted jurist, i.e. still a man of the pen more than the sword.)

The Ernoul of my novels is an artist (composer) rather than a fighter, and he sees the world through an artist's eye. He also provides some of the lighter moments in the book. I hope my readers will like him as much as I do!



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Thursday, September 29, 2016

My Responsibility as a Writer: Realistic, Human Characters



Nothing is more important to a novel than good characters. The theme may be visionary, the descriptions exquisite and the plot breath-taking, but without good characters it “ain’t good fiction.” Period.

The hero of my "Leonidas Trilogy": Leonidas of Sparta

Nor can we, writers, really create characters – not good ones. We can create cartoons that stiffly toddle across the pages of our book, or we can cut-and-paste from other works, or even use pre-fab creations that everyone instantly recognizes: the beautiful seductress, the clever detective, the sensitive misunderstood child, the evil step-mother etc. etc. But the author who relies on these will never write good fiction.

Brad Pitt's Achilles transformed the Greek hero from a comic figure to a human.

Good fiction requires good characters and good characters are as complex as human beings. Of course, only God can create humans, and writers are not God. We are at best disciples and prophets, interpreting God’s word, describing his creations – inadequately.  But the better we are at understanding humans, the better we will be at describing them. And the better we describe them as unique individuals, the better will be our novel. 


                        


 

The hero of my Jerusalem trilogy is a baron of the crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: Balian d'Ibelin






And just as humans grow-up, make mistakes, learn from their mistakes (or fail to do so), good characters are neither perfect nor stagnant. Good characters have flaws, and good characters change in the course of a novel. Only ancillary characters should be essentially the same at the end of a novel as they were at the beginning. While this is most pronounced in novels spanning a longer period of time (like my biographical novels), it should be true even of a novel covering only a few months, days or hours – because those few months/weeks/days/hours must represent a significant event for the central characters or the novel has no credible plot. My Battle of Britain novel, for example, only covers the months of May to September 1940, but for the characters it a pivotal period. Another novel could describe no more than the day September 11, 2001 – but it would only be a good novel about that day, if the key characters are different in a significant way at the end of it.


The pilots on the cover are "B" Flight 85 Squadron -- some of the real heroes of the Battle of Britain
And good characters – really good characters – will never leave you in complete control of the plot. They will take the bit in their teeth now and again, and run away with you. When your characters do that, when they start shaping the novel for you, you know you have a good cast of characters. From then on, your job becomes one of directing and coaching rather than dictating. It is always a wonderful moment! 

Three key characters of the book are on this cover: Richard the Lionheart (left), Saladin (right) and Balian d'Ibelin in the center.
 
Today's blog is part of a Rave Review Book Club event featuring different author's ideas of their role as an author. If you are interested in joining this fun and supportive network of authors please check out our website at: Rave Review Book Club.

Sunday, August 7, 2016

Balian d'Ibelin and the Third Crusade




Welcome to the Rave Reviews Book Club 2016 Book and Blog Party. From Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Helena P. Schrader is delighted to participate in this event featuring a wide-range of talented authors from all literary genres.

If you leave a comment on this blog entry, you will qualify for a free ebook copy of "Envoy of Jerusalem."


Hollywood made him a blacksmith; Arab chronicles said he was "like a king."  
He served a leper, but defied Richard the Lionheart.
He fought Saladin to a stand-still, yet retained his respect.
Rather than dally with a princess, he  married a dowager queen -- and founded a dynasty. He was a warrior and a diplomat both:
Balian d'Ibelin

Balian d'Ibelin, the hero of Ridley Scott's film "The Kingdom of Heaven" was a historical figure, whose biography was significantly different from the Hollywood character. I have written a three-part biography of Balian based on the known historical facts and extensive research about his society and contemporaries. As with all my novels, particularly my biographical novels, the focus is on the characters, and I am a firm believer that human nature has not changed fundamentally over the millenniaapply my understanding of human nature gained over the decades to get inside the skin of my historical characters.

The Hollywood Balian was born a bastard, by trade a blacksmith, seducer of a princess, who returns to obscurity in France after the fall of Jerusalem. The historical Balian, in contrast, was the legitimate son of a baron of Jerusalem, born in the Holy Land, the husband of the Dowager Queen and Byzantine princess Maria Comnena, a member of the High Court, and Richard the Lionheart's ambassador to Saladin.

For readers tired of cliches, cartoons and fantasy, my three-part biography of Balian based on the above facts not only brings this important and attractive historical character back to life, it provides refreshing insights into everyday life in the late 12th century crusader states. Rich in complex characters, "Envoy of Jerusalem," provides psychologically sound explanations for the decisions and actions of the men and women who made history in this fateful place and period. It offers humans in place of villains and supermen.

"Envoy of Jerusalem" covers the critical five years between the fall of Jerusalem to the end of the Third Crusade. When the novel opens, Balian has survived the devastating defeat of the Christian army on the Horns of Hattin, and walked away a free man after the surrender of Jerusalem, but he is baron of nothing in a kingdom that no longer exists. Haunted by the tens of thousands of Christians captives now in Saracen slavery, Balian is determined to regain what has been lost. The arrival of a vast crusading army under the soon-to-be-legendary Richard the Lionheart offers hope - but also conflict as natives and crusaders clash and French and English quarrel.

This novel follows the fate not just of kings and barons, but also knights, squires, sailors and tradesmen. It particularly focuses on the horrific impact of a lost war on women - many of whom were condemned to slavery and prostitution in the wake of defeat.

"Envoy of Jerusalem" portrays the clash of cultures between the natives of the Holy Land and the crusaders. It, unlike most novels set in this period, describes the Third Crusade through the eyes of the men and women who called the Holy Land "home," rather than those that came out from the West. Likewise, Richard the Lionheart is shown as a man of many parts, rather than a brute, buffoon or paragon of virtue.

Last but not least, "Envoy of Jerusalem" explores the crisis in faith that the fall of Jerusalem produced among Christians of the period. The characters struggle with understanding the will of God and their individual role and place in the presumed divine plan. 

Hope I've whet your appetite! 

For more information about Balian visit his website at: http://defenderofjerusalem.com  or buy the Jerusalem Trilogy:




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Sunday, July 31, 2016

Sneak Preview 6: An Excerpt from "Envoy of Jerusalem"

The fate of the Christian captives enduring slavery is an important theme of "Envoy of Jerusalem." In this scene, we catch a glimpse of what is happening to the daughter of Balian's knight Sir Bartholomew in Aleppo. 





Beatrice prayed God for forgiveness as she brought the filthy linens to the laundry for the umpteenth time. Some part of her Christian soul knew that she ought to feel pity for the 14-year-old struggling to bring her baby into the world, but Fatima had been too heartless and selfish a mistress for Beatrice to feel anything but satisfaction. Imad ad-Din’s others wives were all older women, women he had married in his youth, women who had born him several children each and were in their own way not only weary but wise. Not one of them had been kind to Beatrice, but they had not be cruel either. They recognized that she was a slave because of misfortune beyond her control. For them it was simply the will of Allah that she had to accept no less than they did.


Fatima, on the other hand, came to the household after the death of Imad ad-Din’s second wife. At 13 she was still very young, but she had rapidly recognized that her 60-something husband was smitten with her. He had lavished gifts on her, seemed unable to deny her any wish, and neglected his other wives in his eagerness to savor her charms. The knowledge that she was the master’s favorite rapidly went to her head. She relished showing the other wives that she could get whatever she wanted, while they were rebuked for their “greed” and “covetousness,” if they asked for the smallest thing. She ate in front of them the ice and figs they had been denied, and she laughed and stuck out her tongue when the First Wife tried to rebuke her.


To the slaves she had been even worse, of course. No one ever pleased her, and she threw temper tantrums that included not only throwing things at whoever offended her but also scratching their skin with her excessively long nails or spitting on them. She had taken particular pleasure in mocking Beatrice, calling her “my lady slut” and “my lady whore,” asking how many men it had been the night of her capture. Was it three or four or maybe even a dozen or a score? What had it been like having so many different men inside you, one after the other? Had she been able to climax for them all? Her questions had been so shocking that the First Wife had intervened, chiding Fatima for immodesty and sending Beatrice away to spare her further indignity. But Fatima had pursued the game again when the others were out of hearing.


Beatrice straightened and put her hands to the small of her aching back. “Christ forgive me,” she muttered, “but I hope she dies and her little Muslim brat with her!” With a sigh, she reached for the clean linens, stacked neatly on shelves outside the laundry. She had stacked them there herself after taking them down from the line this morning and folding them exactly as instructed. (When she first came, she had often been slapped or kicked for doing things the Frankish way.) As she took the clean sheets, she was reminded of the effort that went into making them so — something she had not appreciated in her former life. Clean linens had simply been her right as a lady, and laundresses were an almost unseen part of the household. They were generally widows and other poor women, who were allowed to sleep in a dormitory and eat at the bottom of the table in exchange for keeping clean the underclothes, bedclothes and tablecloths of their lord, his family and retainers.  


But just this morning she had stood for hours over a cauldron full of boiling water, stirring the clothes as the steam drenched her in sweat and scalded her hands. The lye soap stank and stung, and the smell of it up close almost chocked her. The skin of her hands was permanently red and rough from the exposure to the damp heat and lye steam. She avoided looking at them now because they made her sad. Once, she had loved her long fingered-hands adorned with rings….


She entered the long, dingy corridor between the laundry courtyard and the haram, and was startled when the delivery door suddenly crashed open and people poured inside. They were chattering Arabic much too fast for her to understand it (although she now understood most orders and many ordinary conversations). An elderly woman was removing her veils, now that she was inside, and handing them off to the woman behind her, as she questioned the eunuch leading her toward the haram. She was dressed in very rich robes decorated with strands of gold, Beatrice noted with wistful envy. Most notable, her tone of voice was commanding; she was obviously a First Wife in some important man’s household, Beatrice concluded. 


The next instant, she was distracted by the realization that the woman trailing her, who had now removed her veils as well, was blond! More than that, she looked familiar. “Jesus God and all his Saints! Constance!” She called out in utter amazement.


The woman spun about startled, and then let out a cry of recognition so piercing it stopped her mistress and the eunuch in their tracks. They turned back angrily and saw the two Christian slaves fall into each other arms. A moment later they chattering in French, oblivious — and utterly indifferent — to the disapproval of the others. 


“Beatrice! Beatrice!” the new-comer gasped, clinging to her. “I never thought I would see you again! Oh, sister! What of your children?”


Beatrice clung to her younger sister as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t ask. Let us be thankful for this moment instead.”


Constance was suddenly crying too. Her heartrending wails came from the depths of her heart as she folded her head upon her sister’s breast and sobbed like a little child. She did not see the look of astonishment on her mistress’ face, much less hear the sharp question from the eunuch demanding an explanation.


“She is my sister,” Beatrice told him, meeting his glare firmly. “You may flog me till I die, if you like, or kick me ‘till my guts spill out my mouth, but you will not stop me from holding my own sister!”


“Leave them!” Constance’s mistress snapped. “We have more important things to do!” She swept on to see to her sister-in-law, leaving the Christian slaves alone in the hall.


My three-part biographical novel is dedicated to bringing Balian, his age and society "back to life." 


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