The resurgence of World War I stories

Nearly a year ago, I wrote a post about the lack of World War I stories in my literary education (with one notable exception: Rilla of Ingleside, which gives us the Great War from the perspective of Canadian women on the home front). That post coincided with my discovery of the Maisie Dobbs series and the first season of Downton Abbey, both of which I adore. And since writing that post, I’ve been noticing – and reading – more and more stories about World War I and the 1920s (Hattie Big Sky, Broken Music, Promise Me This, The American Heiress, the Phryne Fisher series). All these books either use the war as a backdrop or begin with its long shadow still hanging over England, Australia and even the U.S. And I’ve found myself wondering why these stories, largely absent from our culture for the last few decades, seem to be enjoying a renaissance now.

It isn’t just due to Downton, though admittedly the series has captured the imagination of millions of fans. (I’m loving the second season so far, and have high hopes for a third.) And it’s certainly not limited to only this year, or even the “Great Recession”: Hattie Big Sky was published in 2006, and Jacqueline Winspear published Maisie Dobbs in 2004. But we are particularly enamored of these stories right now. Why?

Have we all, as a culture, simply recognized this huge gap in our literary and historical education, and begun trying to fill it? (Not likely, I admit – though as a bookworm I’d love it if that were the case.) Is this war now far enough away – nearly 100 years gone – that we can start to think of it as “history,” instead of a black mark on our not-so-distant past? Are Americans finally waking up to the worldwide significance of this war that barely touched them in comparison to the French, the British, the Germans and others? Or – and I think this might be the reason – have our recent worldwide circumstances left us looking for both escapism and ways to cope?

The austerity of the so-called “Great Recession” is, by and large, not nearly as pinching as the straitened economies of wartime and depression. But we’ve seen a lot of upheaval in the last few years, from the subprime crisis to the Arab Spring protests, from the 10th anniversary of 9/11 to rapid changes in the developing world. We relish stories of troubled times during our own troubled times, either as a means of comparison (“it could always be worse!”) or as a means to cope (“they survived and so will we”). At the same time, we love stories of opulence to give us a bit of escapism (and Americans have long loved stories of English great houses and the families who fill them). World War I tales – particularly those of the English aristocracy – can give us both.

Perhaps we also find it easier to handle stories of a big, world-shattering war, with a clearly defined enemy (the one on the other side of the trenches), than we do to comprehend our own small wars, which are so scattered and secretive and confusing, and seem to make little sense even to those who fight in and direct them. For Americans, especially, our role in the world has become confusing, fraught with huge questions about power and responsibility, about obligation and trust, and how to navigate being a semi-superpower in a world fast losing patience with superpowers.

Judging by the popularity of Downton, Maisie Dobbs, War Horse and other stories, I think this trend will endure for a while longer. And while it does, I’ll find plenty to interest and challenge me in these stories, and many characters to admire.

Have you noticed the flood of World War I stories lately? What do you think is the cause?

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