In Like Flynning
Writing Non-Historical Sword Fights in my
Historical Fiction
By Ian Nathaniel
Cohen
 |
| Jean Leon Jerome Ferris, Capture of the Pirate, Blackbeard, 1718. |
When writing historical fiction, there's always a hazy line between accuracy and artistic license. As writers, our job is to tell a captivating story that can maintain a reader's interest, not show off how much research we've done. On the other hand, what we come up with has to be at least somewhat credible, especially to audiences familiar with the time period we're writing about. That means having to do a truckload of research to get all sorts of details right, not for its own sake, but to understand how the setting would most likely impact our characters in one way or another. (And, of course, to avoid the inevitable - and to be fair, justified - wrath of fact-checkers.)
My
first novel, The Brotherhood of the Black Flag, is an adventure thriller
set in the Golden Age of Piracy, an era that fortunately is easy to find
information about. When doing my research, I not only scoured books, articles,
and websites, but also fired off emails to academics, government officials, and
re-enactment societies asking for all manner of information so I could depict
the time period as accurately as possible and understand how it could possibly
shape the plot and character arcs. I've been going through that same process
for my next book, The Sherwood Caper, a heist thriller set in Medieval England – and yes, it’s about Robin
Hood. I’ve been fact-checking the accuracy of the terminology I
use, poring over maps to make sure I have my geography straight, that sort of
thing - and that's just the non-spoilerish stuff.
 |
| Matthias Stom, Young Man Reading by Candlelight. |
However,
there's one part of my writing where I willfully, deliberately, and
unapologetically chuck strict historical accuracy out the window - sword fight
choreography.
The
job of every scene in a book is to paint a vivid picture for the reader,
allowing them to visualize the proceedings like they're watching it on a
screen. When I write sword fights, the picture I typically want to paint is two
opponents engaging in a graceful, fast-paced clash of blades, like something
from an Errol Flynn movie or The Princess Bride. There’s even a semi-official
term for this theatrical kind of swordplay, according to TV Tropes –
“Flynning.”
 |
| John Leech, The Battle of Bosworth Field: A Scene from the Great Drama of History. |
A
real fight, of course, is nothing like this. They're a messy tangle of limbs
and weapons, where the objective is to take down your opponent as quickly as
possible by any means necessary, fair play be damned. If you want to read great
examples of these kinds of fight scenes in historical fiction, Bernard
Cornwell's Sharpe novels and Arturo Pérez-Reverte's Alatriste series are loaded with them.
As
for real fencing, it's all about economy of movement so you can attack and
defend as quickly and efficiently as possible. The moves in stage and screen
combat, however, are flashy and exaggerated to look more exciting.
 |
| Jacques Callot, The Duel with the Sword and Dagger |
So
why did I go this route? If I’m determined to be a stickler for accuracy in all
other respects, why make an exception for how I stage my sword fights?
I
have two main reasons for doing this. The first is a stylistic choice. I grew
up on Hollywood swashbucklers, and both The Brotherhood of the Black Flag and
The Sherwood Caper are intended, among other things, as homages to these
movies. A key part of capturing the spirit of this genre is trying to replicate
the feel of their fight scenes, even if it comes at the expense of the accuracy
I aim for elsewhere in the story.
The
other reason is simply that those are the kinds of fight scenes that, in part,
inspired my writing. Film fights may be anachronistic and unrealistic, but in
the context of certain kinds of stories, they're a lot more fun to watch. The
movements are more fluid, the pacing is faster, and the choreography is more
graceful. It's a thing of beauty to watch a fight like that, and I wanted to
see as much of these as I could.
 |
| Percy MacQuoid, Types of Swordsmanship – II: The Sword and Dagger Due |
As
a result, cinematic swordsmanship ended up becoming a gateway to a variety of fiction
genres across all mediums, as well as multiple eras of world history that
inspired the fiction, where I could see and read about as many sword fights as
possible. All this inspired not only a fascination with fencing, which I took
for six years, but also stage combat and fight choreography, which I've had a
few lessons in - not to mention trying my hand at my own stories about
sword-swinging heroes. Long story short, the Flynning style of screen fighting
was what inspired me not only as a reader, but as a writer, so that's what I
try and reproduce in my work.
That
doesn't mean I don't do any research whatsoever when coming up with my fights.
I still need to learn about the weapons being used and how they are best used,
as well as how to depict proper and improper stance. (The protagonist of The
Brotherhood of the Black Flag is a former fencing instructor, requiring him
to not only demonstrate proper form and technique himself, but correct students
as needed.)
 |
| Johann Georg Puschner, The Fencing Student. |
Beyond
that, characters using certain moves and techniques are textbook examples of
"show, don't tell" when it comes to demonstrating their proficiency
with a particular weapon or fighting style. As an example, for one of the duels
in The Brotherhood of the Black Flag, there's a sword fight that originally
ended with one character disarming another with a vaguely described move. More
than one beta reader wanted to "see" what the actual move was. As the
victor was armed with a schiavona, a cut-and-thrust sword with a distinctive
fighting style, I consulted with a friend who's knowledgeable about that
particular weapon. (In fact, it was thanks to him that I decided said character
was even going to use one.) He told me about using the cage-like handguard of
the schiavona's hilt to trap the opponent's blade and pull the sword out of
their hand. It's a very difficult move that requires a great deal of expertise
to pull off, and having a character use it demonstrates that expertise, instead
of me having to say “this guy’s an expert.”
 |
| Jacques Callot, The Duel With Swords. |
Also,
even with this approach to how I stage my fights, I still have to follow the
rules of "show, don't tell" in other ways. Readers don't want to see
a detailed blow-by-blow account of a duel to the death, because they're boring
to read - and frankly, boring to write. Instead, we want to know what's going
on inside the combatant's heads. Are they afraid? Is rage clouding their
judgment? Do they feel a kind of thrill at facing off against someone who can
give them a good challenge? That's what readers want us writers to show them,
and that's what I try and focus on.
Will
I ever write more realistic fight scenes at any point? Yeah, probably, for a
story that calls for it - something with a more dramatic flavor to it, rather
than a lighthearted swashbuckling adventure story. But for now, rather than
Capo Ferro, Thibault, and Agrippa, I'll look to Fred Cavens, Bob Anderson, and
F. Braun McAsh for my sword fights.
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| Henry Gilbert, Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne. |
The
Brotherhood of the Black Flag
By
Ian Nathaniel Cohen
Thrills, treachery, and high-seas swashbuckling adventure await in the
Golden Age of Piracy's final reckoning!
His once-promising naval career in tatters, Michael McNamara leaves the newly-United Kingdom behind in search of a new life. With no other skills but the sword, he joins forces with a pirate turned pirate hunter, determined to rid the Caribbean of the Brotherhood of the Black Flag once and for all.
Eager for a worthy cause to fight for, McNamara pits himself against treacherous seas and battle-hardened buccaneers... and uncovers an international conspiracy that threatens the lives of thousands.
His once-promising naval career in tatters, Michael McNamara leaves the newly-United Kingdom behind in search of a new life. With no other skills but the sword, he joins forces with a pirate turned pirate hunter, determined to rid the Caribbean of the Brotherhood of the Black Flag once and for all.
Eager for a worthy cause to fight for, McNamara pits himself against treacherous seas and battle-hardened buccaneers... and uncovers an international conspiracy that threatens the lives of thousands.
"Cohen delivers a solid, compelling, and briskly paced story that blends adventure and romance within a rich historical setting."
Pick
up your copy of
The Brotherhood of the Black Flag
Ian Nathaniel Cohen
Ian Nathaniel Cohen is a native of Miami,
Florida, where he grew up immersing himself in swashbuckler literature and
film. He graduated from the University of Central Florida in 2003 with a BA in
Radio/Television Production and a Minor's Certificate in Applied Computer
Science. He also received his MA in Asian Studies from Florida International
University in 2006, where he teaches the course Asia Through Film as an adjunct
lecturer. In 2010, his essay "Heroes & Villains of the East",
analyzing the evolving depiction of the Japanese in Chinese and Hong Kong
martial arts cinema, was published in FIU's Japan Studies Journal.
He also writes a review blog, the INCspotlight, focusing on classic films, comic books, and video games.
He also writes a review blog, the INCspotlight, focusing on classic films, comic books, and video games.
Great post. I always loved Flynning, I just never knew it had a name.
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