AustLit

'Some recent definitions of biographical fiction emphasise its separation from historical
fiction and that this distinction is indicated by the use of the protagonist’s real name. In
this paper I analyse novels by Australian authors Peter Carey, Steven Carroll, Robert
Drewe, Richard Flanagan, Kate Grenville, and Alex Miller, that are based on the lives
of figures from the past. Some of these retain the protagonist’s name while others
change the name but activate readers’ knowledge of the historical subjects through
different means. I argue that the name is not the only indicator in fiction that activates
the force of biographical connections and, furthermore, that the insistence on these two
components of the definition could exclude from relevant discussion novels based on
the lives of real people that shed light on how history is constructed in fiction.' (Publication abstract)

'Meet Me at Lennon’s is a self-conscious work of historical fiction or what Linda
Hutcheon (1988) terms “historiographic metafiction”. The novel is structured as a
contemporary frame story in which a series of historical “bio-tales”, set in Brisbane
during the Second World War, are embedded. Though fictional, the bio-tales are based on experiences of real women as recorded in commemorative publications, memoirs, oral and popular histories. Meet Me at Lennon’s uses the contrivance of “faux” historical bio-tales or “microhistories” as a narrative device to expose how authors use textual relics and invention when writing historical biofictions, thereby spotlighting the ethical dilemmas such authors must grapple with when representing the imagined subjectivities of real historical people. The novel aims to re-imagine the Brisbane home front as a site of historical and narrative contention, gendered resistance, collective memory, nostalgia, and place, while exploring both the potential and limitations of historical biofiction as a restorative or correctional narrative device to history’s omissions and misrepresentations. This article discusses the use of the novel’s bio-tales as a narrative device in relation to the goals of both historical biofiction and historiographic metafiction, and in the space where these two genres collude and collide.' 

(Publication abstract)

'From the mid twentieth century, second-wave feminism prompted interest from both historians and novelists in recovering the voices of women from the past. Where only sparse archival records were extant, a revised practice of biography was necessary, but differences arising from disciplinary approaches have led to debate on how this is best achieved. This essay analyses two contemporary publications that draw attention to lesser-known women’s experiences in colonial Australia: Melissa Ashley’s The Birdman’s Wife (2016) and Kiera Lindsey’s The Convict’s Daughter (2016). Marketed as fiction and biography respectively, these two texts nonetheless use similar techniques to recover the voices of these women from the archives and to share their stories with broad audiences: Immersive research; imaginative interpretation of documented records; character development through dialogue, emotions, thoughts and sensory details; use of literary techniques of imagery and dramatisation as signposts of fictionality. Through these techniques, and despite their generic differences, Ashley and Lindsey’s works evoke a powerful sense of their female subjects’ experiences and inner lives.' 

(Publication abstract)

'Historical novels have the ability to provide unique insights into untold histories. In this paper, I examine the ways in which Jessica Anderson’s 1975 novel The Commandant seeks to represent history through fiction. Anderson used historical sources and her own keen insight to create a rich and complex portrait of Patrick Logan, a man who is immortalised in folklore as one of Australia’s greatest tyrants. The themes of authority, abuses of power and how the colonial past shaped Australia’s identity had great resonance to Anderson’s contemporary readers and are still relevant in the present day. I argue that in the case of The Commandant, historical fiction offered the opportunity to tell a story that had been excluded from mainstream official histories in favour of dominant hegemonic interpretations. Anderson subverted the traditional biofiction of a man of importance, feminising the masculine history of Patrick Logan and the Moreton Bay convict settlement and telling much of his story from the point-of-view of the soldiers’ female family members. I focus on her fiercely forensic approach to historical research and how she applied this to her writing practice to produce a work of historical biofiction that shines a light on a foundational period of Australian history.' (Publication abstract)