Finding Comfort in Historical Fiction
By Victoria Fortune
Since the coronavirus has sent us all scurrying into isolation, separating us from friends, I have turned to books for comfort. There’s good reason for this (besides the fact that I’m a writer). In her insightful book Story Genius, Lisa Cron points out that human beings have been “wired for story” since the cave man days for one simple reason: Stories help us anticipate the unknown, and thus better prepare for whatever dangers lie ahead. “Stories instill meaning directly into our belief system the same way experience does—not by telling us what is right, but by allowing us to feel it ourselves.” Especially in times of uncertainly, we’re all in need of a good story.
Small wonder then, that when I turned to the pile of “to-read” books teetering on my bedside table, the one that called to me was Year of Wonders, A Novel of the Plague. What better way to ease my anxiety about what is to come, about the toll this pandemic will take in terms of lives and quality of life and how it may change us, than to look toward a story from the past, written by one of my favorite authors. In Year of Wonders, Geraldine Brooks brings to life the true story of an English village that was struck with the bubonic plague in 1665. The tailor’s assistant received a bolt of cloth from London that was infested with plague-riddled fleas. A week later, he died of the plague. When multiple neighbors also fell ill, the villagers chose to seal themselves off from the world to prevent further spread of the disease.
Imagine the situation the Eyam villagers faced: the chance of survival if they caught the plague was virtually zero. There was no such thing as a vaccine, no known treatment, little knowledge about how the disease spread or who was most susceptible. There was no medical care available beyond the herbal healers of the village, and Brooks’ graphic descriptions of the horrors the bubonic plague wreaks on the body could keep one up at night. What would compel a group of villagers to close themselves off from the world, to subject themselves and their families to deprivation and misery and a horrific, painful death, all for the sake of complete strangers? It was Brooks’ fascination with this question that inspired her to write the novel.
While Year of Wonders is fiction-- the villagers of Eyam were largely illiterate miners and farmers, incapable of leaving a written record of their experiences—Brooks hews very closely to the facts we do know, and builds upon these with her characteristic attention to historical detail and keen insight into human nature, to flesh out a story that allows readers to feel for themselves what it might have been like to live through the quarantine. It puts what we’re going through with coronavirus in perspective.
The most essential factor in the villagers’ decision to quarantine was their rector, the leader of the town. It is documented that the young new rector, with the aid of the retired rector, was able to convince the villagers to isolate themselves. In Brooks’s story, the rector is a passionate orator whose eloquence moves the congregation: he speaks of the disease as a test from God, an opportunity to show their compassion for their neighbors in nearby villages, and a chance to earn God’s eternal reward. But he also appeals to reason: he cautions that if they leave, they will be reviled wherever they go for spreading the disease. The will be rejected and left to die in agony alone, with no comfort or support. The rector promises that if they stay, they will be cared for and comforted, and he will be by their side as long as he is alive. Whatever the substance of the actual sermon, the effect was the same: the villagers heeded his plea.
The Eyam quarantine was possible because of the villagers’ religious devotion and the small size of the town (roughly 350 people). The rectors made a personal plea to each family, so they all felt accountable, and drew on the community’s devotion to (or fear of) God. We do not have such a devout citizenry. And while there are many religious leaders across the U.S. appealing to their congregations’ faith to implore them to stay home, and holding services online to maintain physical distance, some of the supposedly most devout citizens—high profile evangelical preachers--are behaving in an incredibly reckless manner, exposing their congregations or the students at their university (and all the people those people come in contact with) to a potentially fatal disease. Apparently, they believe God will protect them (something even most of the illiterate villagers of Eyam did not believe) and to hell with the rest of us.
We are also a vast country, a million times larger than the village of Eyam, and it is much more difficult to instill a sense of personal accountability in each citizen. Individualism runs strong among Americans, and in certain parts of the country, an historic disdain for government that compels some to thumb their nose at authority, even when the authorities are trying to save lives. Additionally, we have a large contingent of wealthy folks, who are not known for sacrificing themselves for others. The only family in the book that chooses to leave is the one wealthy family in town, the Bradfords. This was a common occurrence during the plague, and every epidemic throughout history: the rich flee, leaving the poor to bear the brunt of the disease. Like the wealthy who are fleeing today, the Bradfords find few willing to welcome them. Those who are running from hard-hit cities today are finding a similarly chilly reception in the smaller towns they’re running to.
With our scientific and technological progress, you would think we’d be far better equipped to deal with a pandemic. We are certainly better at detecting, preventing, and treating disease than when the bubonic plague struck Eyam. But the world is effectively much smaller today: there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from coronavirus. It will reach wherever there are people. And for all our advances, nature continues to throw new diseases at us. Like the Eyam villagers, we do not know who the coronavirus will strike down; it’s a crapshoot who could die, which makes each and every one of us vulnerable.
You would think that would make each and every one of us take this pandemic seriously. And yet, despite the wealth of information we have to protect ourselves, there are those who choose to ignore it. Those who are thumbing their nose at authorities pleading with them to stay home are like the villagers in the novel who ignore warnings to burn the possessions of plague victims. In ignoring this advice, they unwittingly spread the disease, killing countless more.
One thing that has definitely not changed in the last 350 years is people’s capacity to act in ways that are contrary to their own best interests, out of prejudice, ignorance and fear. When I heard that people are threatening to murder Dr. Anthony Fauci, the eminent scientist who is leading the White House’s coronavirus response, I was reminded of the scene in the book when a panic-stricken mob accuses the town’s herbal healers of witchcraft and murders them, thus doing away with their only source of medicine and pain relief. The compulsion of the ignorant to attack those with knowledge they do not understand is a mainstay of humanity.
If Year of Wonders offers any lessons for the present circumstance, one is that quarantining works. It worked in Eyam in 1666—although two-thirds of the villagers died, they prevented the plague from spreading to surrounding towns—and it is our only remedy at present to staunch the spread of coronavirus. Everyone must do their part. The village of Eyam was only able to seal itself off because the neighboring villages sent food and necessities throughout the quarantine. And helping others is what enables the main character in Year of Wonders to endure (that and a natural immunity to the plague). Providing assistance and comfort wherever she can gives Anna a sense of meaning and purpose, and the will to carry on.
The book also suggests that, in times of crisis, having an inspirational, compassionate leader willing to put the best interests of the community above his or her own can make all the difference. Unfortunately, the leader of our nation is not up to the task, being incapable of empathy or of disciplined focus or of considering anything but his own self-interests. So, we look to other leaders across this country to fill the void, but none is in the same position to unify the country as a whole.
By the time the villagers in Year of Wonders (those who are left) emerge from their 14-month quarantine, they are different people and their world a different place. Some of the changes are positive, which gives me hope that good things can come of this pandemic. That is the power of a well told story! Maybe this crisis will be the thing that finally brings us together as a country? One can hope. We will not know what changes have been wrought until this is all over. In the meantime, I offer help where I can, count my blessings—including family and friends and books that provide insight and comfort—and I hunker down at home.
In light of the sacrifice the Eyam villagers made to save the lives of strangers, it seems a small price to pay.
