Me: I don’t know much about theater but did work on one “historical fiction” project. I didn’t think I would like it but once I got on the trail of the historical reasearch about this person and the country she lived in I became swept up in it, so I understand the allure. I also came to think of the responsibility an author takes on to narratize someone else’s experience as being serious business, especially since we have that tendency to project ourselves onto the subject or to otherwise “filter” it. Or in some cases, propagandize it. IMO a writer of historical anything ought to do his/her best to keep things in the context of what is known about the subject so far(except in the cases where people take historical figures, like Mark Twain, and drop them into fiction, like Star Trek episodes sometimes do).

At the same time, during that project I sometimes “fudged” or extrapolated scenes from bare details to fill in gaps and to tell the larger story of the times. My subject: the life of a Canadian Mormon woman circa 1900-1920’s. The story of the times: that whole Canadian Mormon drama, a remarkable story that has yet to be told. So I had the “small” story, that of a Mormon woman living in Canada, and I had the “big” story, the Canadian Mormon experience in general. Mahonri, your “small” story is the story of C.S. Lewis, and then you have your “big” story, some idea or worldview you hold, that your small story supports. The territory that lies in between the two stories is perhaps where it’s most useful to fictionalize.

Just IMO and I don’t know if it helps you with your question.

In a play such as “The Reluctant Convert” however, it seemed to me that getting history right is somewhat less important for two reasons. One, the history itself is less known and less important to the general audience. We all like C. S. Lewis, but only real Lewis buffs are going to care about the specifics of his conversion. Secondly, and this is of course my interpretation, but it seemed to me that the play was as much about conversion itself as it was about the life of Lewis. (The Fading Flower, on the other hand, had some thematic lines, but seemed primarily about Emma and David.)

Mahonri:
Eric, I think you’ve nailed it on the head here with the difference between the historicity of the two pieces. With “The Fading Flower,” the history is of vital importance, especially since it deals with some hard hitting subjects about people who others have strong opinions on. I’m balancing the faith of two religions in my hands, and history is such an important part of LDS and RLDS (Community of Christ) identities. The more I fictionalize it, the less legitimate it becomes in the eyes of the audience. My points will be weakened, my purpose dilluted. The more I can back my points up with real history, the more impact the events will have on the audience.
While with “The Reluctant Convert,” its just more important that I get right the Spirit of not only C.S. Lewis, but also of his works (thus the fictionalized “meeting Aslan” in the zoo). As much as I’ve strived to get it historically right, I think I have more room with him than with Emma Smith. And since the piece is less– uhm, challenging to preconceived ideas, there will be less scrutiny as to the details. I think you’re right its the idea of Christian conversion which is pivotal in the tale.
By the way, thanks for coming for both shows and your flattering comments. Are you planning on writing some reviews for AML?

Annegb, I, too love C.S. Lewis and treatments on him. Thus I wrote a play about him. :]
The “surrender” he had in his conversion is exactly how he represents it. He talks as if he were at war, was outmatched, and gave up his arms. God won– which in the end was a victory for C.S. Lewis as well.

Mahonri:
I’m compelled to write about certain historical subjects usually because I find some meaning within the event or the people involved. To slightly change the popular phrase, I often find that truth is more powerful than fiction. Thus historical truth often vibrates within me, finds a deeper place. Although I know that truth is distorted through the lens of a historian or author, I also know that at least we’re seeing the outline of it, the echo of a real voice.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t find fiction just as meaningful. I love writing completely fictional work as well. But when I engage in a historical piece, I engage in it not because I want to recast it in my own image, but because the essentials of the real story awoke something within me.
Why don’t I become a historian? For one thing, I prefer the art of theater than academics. A paper or essay doesn’t come alive the same way theater can. I’m utterly in love with the art form, and furthermore, utterly love historical pieces (for example, as much as I love Eric Samuelsen’s other plays, “The Seating of Senator Smoot” is still one of my favorites). Secondly, theater like film or any other art form reaches a different audience, an audience that wouldn’t necessarily read academic or historical journals.

I enjoyed Shadowlands, the movie, and another thing I saw on CS Lewis on public TV. I don’t know the title, I came in on the middle, but I enjoyed it.

I usually don’t enjoy movies about books I’ve read, especially scripture. I guess I dont’ know enough about CS Lewis to know if the depictions are accurate or not.

I like your title, though, the reluctant convert. I think he would be somewhat dismayed to know that so many people look up to him today. I have grown so much from his writing and lean on his wisdom. I bet he’s thinking, “are you crazy? I’m just as human as the next guy.”

I think this issue of historicity in fiction is an important one – especially in Mormon literature where our history is so important to us. And I’ve eventually come to decide that I think that that importance is what ought to hold the most weight. What I mean to say is, I think that in plays such as Mahonri’s “The Fading Flower,” which is based on the lives of Emma and her children, getting the history right is extremely important. It’s important because the history itself is important to the audience.

In a play such as “The Reluctant Convert” however, it seemed to me that getting history right is somewhat less important for two reasons. One, the history itself is less known and less important to the general audience. We all like C. S. Lewis, but only real Lewis buffs are going to care about the specifics of his conversion. Secondly, and this is of course my interpretation, but it seemed to me that the play was as much about conversion itself as it was about the life of Lewis. (The Fading Flower, on the other hand, had some thematic lines, but seemed primarily about Emma and David.)

I suppose the direction that “The Reluctant Convert” eventually went would depend on who you wanted the real main character to be – Lewis or Conversion. I would personally prefer the play where Conversion is the main character, because that has more application to me than the life of C.S. Lewis, but I think that’s just my preference in genre rather than anything to do with the play itself.

I suppose, in summary, I see two things mitigating how history accurate fiction ought to be. 1. How important and well known that history is to the audience. 2. How significant that history is to the work itself. In other words, whether the history is just the setting for exploration of other stories or ideas, or whether the work is about the history itself.

When I go to a play, read a novel, watch a film…or read a history textbook or a biography, I know that it is not “true.” What I mean is that even the most judicious editor or compiler makes decisions of what material to include and what information to discard. It is impossible to have complete and total accuracy in such works. It is this very concept that makes historical and documentary drama so fascinating to me.

I think it is wise to decide what your own purpose is in writing the play. I, personally, don’t have a preference one way or the other, but I can almost always tell when an author didn’t make a choice of what to emphasize, and both the drama and the history suffer for it. When there is trepidation in the author, it generally comes through in the work as well.

I’m sure that this is all stuff that you’ve thought of before. Perhaps you can answer this question for me: why are you compelled to write plays about historical subjects? Why not become a historian? I am fascinated by the choice to write historical theatre, and am interested in your response.

LAL

If Lewis himself didn’t know what changed him, the play needs to offer some possibility. Maybe there was a close call with a truck while on the bike which caused him to reflect. Maybe, at the zoo, he had a staring contest with a primate, then reflected, “There’s something behind my eyes that isn’t there behind his eyes.” But he crossed that bridge somewhere.