Tuesday, 6 September 2016

Simon Winchester, narrative non-fiction - telling the back-story






Simon Winchester writes the most compelling history. I’ve just listened to two books he produced out of one research project – The Professor and the Madman;  The Meaning of Everything


Both books are about the making of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and they are not his latest work.  Sounds dull? I devoured the stories.  What is compelling about crusty scholarly hermits, mostly male, all old, beavering away on A-is-for Alphabet?  It’s their back stories, the depth of detail, the curious, eccentric, unbelievable intimacies of the tale. No character is without complexity.

 The archival work Winchester undertook would have been mammoth because the OED took decades to evolve and produced millions of scraps of paper from thousands of collaborators throughout the world.  The making of the OED was a long, laborious project that produced something like 15 discrete volumes of the OED – most of us have the little blue version that we had to buy for High School (back in the day…) One of the big problems for the original editors was whether the dictionary would ever make enough money to justify the £40,000 invested in it. Today I’m sure the Oxford University Press is doing nicely -  it’s available online by subscription, and there are many specialist dictionaries, some of which I own, and others that I covet.

The reason I listened to these books is because I have always liked the way Winchester tells history, and I am confident he has millions more readers than the average academic who plods through every dense sentence providing references and attributions and citations ad nauseam. Certainly fiction writers depend on our research for the historical accuracy of their stories, but Winchester captures the spirit of fiction in his facts.


Don’t get me wrong – Winchester’s work is scholarly and rigorous, but you don’t get heavily laced text, you get the story.

 The rigor of academic research and writing is an important skill to master. But once you’re in charge of your material and can confidently claim integrity around the content, why burden the text in a way that makes reading laborious? I personally love a book with 35 pages of end notes and references and TOC, but the end is the best place for that stuff. The minute a book looks heavy with end notes, readers walk away. I've seen seasoned academics literally drop a book because it looked heavy.

When I started writing my book, Feathers, I had three volumes of fin de siecle history written by colleagues working in ethnography, and a couple of them are so brilliant in their archival research. I was most impressed by Sarah Abrevaya Stein

Here she is:


She has written many books around Yiddish culture and little-known marginal events in Jewish history. From my perspective her great contribution is the book, Plumes. Stein must have brilliant linguistic skills to get into some of the archival nooks and crannies.  She seems to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the Ottoman Empire and Sephardi Jewry.  Plumes  is the history of the ostrich feather industry that has a boom-bust pattern something like Dutch iris, and the fact that she has written this rich history means that there are entire sections of stuff that I don’t need to research…languages I don’t have to learn, scripts I do not have to decipher.  However, Stein’s research was global, expansive and not so interested in the characters, and that still leaves me with a pile of impenetrable Hebrew document that drill down into my protagonists.

Another great book that I have been using as a sample for myself is Adam Kuper’s Incest and Influence, that looks at bourgeois English society when cousin marriages were the thing. He explores lots of the great clans, such as the Darwins – and some of my research spills into that arena because the Darwins lived in Cambridge and their marriages and friendships crossed into dozens of networks. Professor Kuper is my mentor for my time at the London School of Economics – a wonderfully generous act on behalf of  both this distinguished academic and the two universities that have made it possible. If you go through his publications you will see that Incest, represents a left turn in his academic writing. He has written theory and complexity for so much of his career, that this book seems to be a re thinking of how we communicate as academics, and what makes our writing relevant, useful and interesting. Here he is: http://aotcpress.com/articles/anthropology-anthropologists-forty-years/


Which brings me back to Winchester. Winchester writes narrative non-fiction. Above all else, he tells an interesting story. Narratie non-fiction, is, I think, what I have started to write.

This week I made a shift in my own thinking, away from the magnificent complexity of Stein, slightly more in line with Kuper ,but absolutely influenced by Simon Winchester, I began to loosen up and tell the back story.

This morning I wrote just 500 words – 500 words that I would not have considered relevant previously, clinging instead to my topic sentences and my rigid logical streams of themes. It was 500 words that would not have found a place in my book if I had not rethought the issues of style. Five hundreds words that may have seemed like meandering off the track, but when I read those words now, I see they paint the background. It’s like returning to my roots somewhere between journalism and feature writing.

By the way, my book Morning Lane, is with an agent at the moment. I had some good help from an editor after I had finished writing the book, and it took another eight months to bash it into shape. This book is where I used up lots of material that would not fit into academic journal articles – and it was this material that made me think about how we write. Sometimes academics leave the best bits in the deletes.  Hope the agent likes Morning Lane and finds it a nice home. 

Another book that contains a chapter I wrote, arrived in the mail this week –  two copies of a very slim little book, hard cover, but when I looked up the price online, I guessed no one is going to buy it. Just in case you’re tempted it’s called Disability and Colonialism, edited by Soldatic and Grech and published by Routledge. It contains the story of Blind Brewster of Bingham….buried in the midst of a lot of Foucauldian genealogical theory.


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