But it's different this time. Think back to the very first series from 2016. The opening scene was George VI coughing blood into a sink. I do not remember this - a) because it takes place in 1947, and b) because I've never been to the loo with George VI - and yet I was happy to take is as gospel. I had no other frame of reference. This series of The Crown, charting 1979-1990, means I'm less inclined to do that. I know it's a dramatic retelling without being reminded. It's obvious from the start it's a fictionalised account of events. It's different this time.
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| This is George VI, right? |
A quick disclaimer before we crack on. When I say I was happy to take The Crown's events depicted before my birth as gospel, I'm being a bit of a fibber. I'm not daft. It just took more effort to remind myself when I watched. The fact that Peter Morgan, a screenwriter of drama, is at the helm, means a discerning eye must be applied on the factual accuracy. But that matters not. Come November, especially November 2020, a well-put-together, part social commentary, part soap opera, and part period piece, ticks a lot of boxes. Keep them coming I say. Bring on series five!
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| This is at the top of The Times article, linked here. |
The reimagining of actual events does seem to annoy some people, though. Every time The Crown drops, The Times dutifully shares an article by royal biographer, Hugo Vickers. He then proceeds to list the historical inaccuracies. (It's uncanny. He manages to be a worthy historian and party pooper in the same breath.) The link is behind a paywall, but if you can't see it, here's a paraphrased summary. Some things didn't happen because the evidence says they did not. Some things didn't happen because Hugo Vickers says they did not. Some things happened, but not in the way they were shown. Fair play to the guy. It must be difficult to see your area of expertise depicted more creatively than factually. When facts are your thing, that is. Conversely, when it comes to story-telling, poetic license is an essential part of the fun. I'll leave the royalists to their hissy fits. In a dramatic reconstruction, with many behind-closed-doors conversations, unknown, we can only guess at their content. So let's guess if we like. I'm fine with it.
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| I did my best. A search for 'trellis' in my GIF finder came up blank. This is as good as it gets. Happily for you, the written description of my simile is nearby. |
As usual, everything comes back to me. How could it not? Watching The Crown makes me think about my own dramatic storytelling. In Assembling the Wingpeople, I've included several topics where I've had to fudge the facts. Research can only take you so far. Divorce, parental bereavement and menopause are issues that affect or have affected people I know, but not me. Not yet anyway. The facts only provide a framework. Like a garden trellis. The wooden frame is the factual content and the entwined roses are the pretty fabrications. I have to add the roses for it to look good. I have to make shit up to fill the gaps. I can only hope it all blends together nicely, and an authentic story is the result.
It's never that simple in real life, of course. I spent last week beefing up a character that's originally from Jamaica. I'm doing all sorts of research, even though the woman appears only briefly. Sometimes gussying up the facts with a bit of fiction is an author's right. Other times it's cultural appropriation and does a disservice to an entire community. The line is fine, and difficult to see at times. At the very least, I have to remember it is there.
In the end, it's about intention and effort. I mean well and I'm trying my best. Isn't that all anyone can do? It's certainly a start in the right direction. When Assembling the Wingpeople eventually comes out, perhaps I need Hugo Vickers to fact check it, and then serialise his findings in The Times. Just to keep things above board. Something to think about as we crack on with our days.
Have a lovely week, folks.
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