No, I’m Not From Scarborough
…And now that I’ve answered your question, why write a post on it?
People, interestingly, tend to make one of two assumptions: that I’m from the places I write about, or that I’ve never visited them. That, to the extent that my conception of the place differs from theirs, I’m ignorant. Which may very well be true. I’d add, however, that when it comes to many of the overseas locations I’ve used, I’m constrained by perspective. In other words, by being an American and a young American. There are things I only “remember” from books. I was alive when the USSR was still a thing, but was more interested in Care Bears. I don’t really remember life without internet, and I’ve always typed my homework assignments. In a way, it’s easier for me to relate to medieval history than it is to modern history. So much has changed in such a short amount of time–and it’s not exactly a suave topic to address with people. “Hey, you’re old enough to remember this, tell me about it” comes across as an attack. “Hey, you’re old! I’m not old!”
Which, of course, I think most millennials are actually pretty acutely aware of their limitations in this regard and would like to remedy them…if anyone wanted to talk! But when it comes to intergenerational changes, the divide is in some ways more acutely felt because we’re all here now. If someone were, say, magicked here from the middle ages, there would be no doubt: the grouping of concepts you understand to, collectively, mean “the world” is foreign.
I never knew a time when I wasn’t distracted, to some degree, by cat videos. I often feel like Boomers want me to apologize for that. As though it were something within my control. To lecture me about how I “lack perspective” without actually sharing theirs. The joke of my generation is that we were born before the internet–or, at least, before the internet went mainstream. Technology has changed so much in our lifetimes that we don’t really see change as a watershed event. Change is simply a fact of life. Maybe we, collectively, as millennials are more willing to poke fun of ourselves as dinosaurs mucking around in the tar pits because change, to us, doesn’t make us feel old. Whereas to many older people, “you’ve survived change” feels like an accusation.
I’m not from Scarborough, although I have spent time there. And not on the internet. There’s another, often quite outspoken, assumption that “kids these days” only “visit” places online and think Wikipedia substitutes for real research. That because many of us think that schools devoting a third of their yearly curriculum to teaching cursive is a waste of time, we don’t appreciate the value of education. Whereas, honestly, to me, emphasizing cursive as the key to unlocking a successful future is equivalent in use to classes on the four humors and finding the philosopher’s stone.
Yes, I pored over firsthand accounts of life at Andersonville to write The Prisoner and no, I didn’t use the Dewey decimal system to find them. I used my library’s computer system. Does that make my research any less valid?
If you equate “valuing the Dewey decimal system over Google” with “appreciating knowledge,” I guess so.
This is one of the reasons I prefer to set my stories elsewhere. Because then there’s more focus on the story and less focus on the age, and overall perspective of the person writing it. Belle, the protagonist of The Prince’s Slave, is a few years younger than I am but she–of necessity–sees the world through my eyes.
It’s easier when you’re writing medieval history. Not everyone might be into cheese-making, but at least no one feels insulted by the description making them feel old. And I did spend a great deal of time in actual castles, when I was studying for my degree. I don’t think anything replaces climbing a spiral staircase, for getting a feel for what it was like. Because, as I’ve pointed out before in my posts on research, you can’t know what you don’t know–until you study everything. And one thing you can’t really imagine, unless and until you experience it, is the vast difference in scale. Yes, some things were larger; but most were so much smaller.
I’m from the American Southwest, and thus have spent a fair amount of time there. But I’ve spent more of my life traveling: across America and to other countries. First because I was the Great Unwanted and then, second, because I was in school and excited to explore–this time, on my own terms. I’m still only an American, one with no particular aptitude for languages. I’m proud of being an American, and while I’m certainly aware of my limited perspective I’m also not apologetic about it. As educated as any of us become, we all hopefully retain our own point of view. This is mine.
Will I write a book set out west? Maybe some day. Although people have their own expectations of what that’s supposed to be like and I’d probably only disappoint them.
