After devouring yet another historical fiction novel where the heroine is mysteriously blessed with modern sensibilities, perfect teeth, and surprisingly feminist views for 1815, I’m having a crisis. Last night, I imagined Victorian London as this romantic place of witty drawing-room banter and charming suitors, completely forgetting about the cholera and no-indoor-plumbing situation.
Let’s be honest – we’re all guilty of falling for the “Bridgerton-ification” of history. Authors conveniently edit out the brutal realities of daily life (when was the last time a protagonist in a Regency romance worried about smallpox scars?), and we happily go along with it. Our heroines are almost always the exceptions to their time – more educated, more independent, and more hygienic than their historical counterparts.
But here’s my real question: as these rose-tinted versions of history become increasingly popular, are we losing touch with the actual grittiness of the past? Are we creating a Pinterest-worthy version of history that never existed?
Sure, nobody wants to read about the mundane realities of chamber pots, but have we gone too far in sanitizing the past for our reading pleasure?
Let us know what you think in the comments below!
