The Director, inspired by a true story, details one man's moral compromises in artistic creation

Smarting after a Hollywood flop, Austrian-born director G. W. Pabst, a Weimar cinema pioneer, returned to Europe. Trapped in Austria while visiting his mother when WWII broke out, he became enmeshed in Goebbels’ propaganda machine.

Kehlmann (Tyll, 2020) uses this outline to construct a dark account of one man’s descent into fascist complicity, a path strewn with surrealistic scenarios and chilling self-justifications in favor of art.

The perspective shifts with each chapter, which keeps readers hyper-focused on each nightmarish step. The family’s Nazi-sympathizing caretaker at their Austrian home tyrannizes them; Pabst’s son Jakob begins bullying others. Pabst’s despairing wife, Trude, reluctantly joins an oppressive book club.

Ambitious yet passive, Pabst voices objections to working for the Reich but soon falls into line. “But once you get used to it and know the rules,” a colleague tells him, “you feel almost free.” The prologue foreshadows a mystery about his making of the film The Molander Case, and the reveal is shocking. 

While it takes many fictional liberties, Kehlmann’s novel is purposefully unnerving and timely.

The Director, translated by Ross Benjamin, will be published by Simon & Schuster/Summit Books on May 6th, and I wrote this review for the April issue of Booklist.

The original German title is Lichtspiel ("Light-Play"), an older term used to refer to motion pictures, but which also has symbolic meaning for this novel. You can read an illuminating interview with Kehlmann at Hungarian Literature Online. As hinted in the review and in the interview, if you're expecting a fictional biography of Pabst, be aware that the storyline does diverge from his real life (and his family's) in multiple instances. 

Bits and pieces of historical fiction news

Here are some articles and other news items that caught my attention in the last week.

The 2025 Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction shortlist is out.  The winner of this £25,000 Prize will be announced on June 12th at Abbotsford, the country house which was Scott's home in the Scottish Borders.

The Heart in Winter, Kevin Barry (Canongate/Doubleday US) - 1890s Montana

The Mare, Angharad Hampshire (Northodox Press) - 1950s New York

The Book of Days, Francesca Kay (Swift Press) - Tudor England 

Glorious Exploits, Ferdia Lennon (Fig Tree/St. Martin's) - ancient Greece

The Land in Winter, Andrew Miller (Sceptre) - 1962/63 England

The Safekeep, Yael van der Wouden (Viking UK/Avid Reader) - postwar Holland

No Americans on the list this time, but half of the shortlist were published in the US, and two of the novels, The Heart in Winter and The Mare, are set here. You can read the judges' comments, with short plot synopses, at the link above.

On Jane Friedman's blog, author Laura Stanfill has a guest post explaining how she raised the stakes in her historical novel by following an editor's advice and moving a secondary character into the protagonist's chair.  Read more at "Trust Your Instincts: Why Writing for Yourself Leads to Better Books."

In Welcome to Censorship, author Vanessa Riley speaks about how she was using the design tool Canva to develop slides for promoting her upcoming historical novel when the software flagged the word "enslaved," which describes her protagonist, as unsupported usage because it appeared to be "a political topic." Very disturbing.

From Sarah McCraw Crow's Substack, An Unfinished Story, the latest in her Midlife Author series is an interview with historical novelist Jane Healey about becoming debut author in her 40s, what it takes to pursue a writing career long-term, and the challenges she's faced.

Alina Adams, whose historical novel Go On Pretending is out on May 1st, writes about the ways she had success obtaining preorders, and where these attempts didn't work.

In the industry, people are getting mixed messages about the category "women's fiction."  Editors aren't using the term, preferring "relationship fiction" or "book club fiction" instead.  Agents are moving away from it too.  But many writers and writers' associations embrace its usage, and the BISAC category of Fiction/Women still remains. You'll find the BISAC codes for books used by retailers like Amazon, digital catalogs like Edelweiss, and more. Read much more at Heather Garbo's Substack, Write Your Next Chapter.  Her post, which examines relevant book deal announcements from Publishers Marketplace, also looks at the overlap between historical and women's fiction, and how books that fall into both categories may be labeled as one but not the other, making it hard to locate all new releases comprehensively. I'm always interested in avenues for discoverability for historical fiction, so I appreciated this post.

Isabel Allende's My Name Is Emilia del Valle adds a new angle to her ongoing family saga

Allende has created many addictive sagas about the extended del Valle family and their intersections with history and one another. The eponymous Emilia, Allende’s addition to this notable clan, is one adventurous, gutsy woman.

The illegitimate daughter of a Chilean aristocrat and the Irish novice nun he seduced, Emilia grows up in San Francisco with her loving stepfather’s support, intrepidly working around gender restrictions. After penning dime novels pseudonymously, she becomes a human-interest columnist for the Daily Examiner and wangles an assignment as international correspondent for the impending Chilean Civil War of 1891, under her own byline.

Emilia’s first meeting with her long-lost father in Santiago is quite moving, and her time with the canteen girls who accompany President Balmaceda’s army echoes with their unsung courage. Allende expertly navigates through the violent chaos of battle and how it affects Emilia, whose romantic relationships also showcase her character growth.

Fans of Allende’s now-classic Daughter of Fortune (1999) and Portrait in Sepia (2000) will particularly welcome this offering, which is replete with Allende’s customary poetic storytelling.

My Name Is Emilia del Valle will be published by Ballantine in May; the translator is Frances Riddle.  I contributed this review for Booklist's March issue.

I recommended this especially for readers of Allende's earlier novels because it's a new entry in the Del Valle saga, but mostly since significant characters from Daughter of Fortune and its sequel appear here too, which was a nice surprise.  No spoilers here, but I'll be curious to see what other readers think about how this novel ends.

Are you missing the Tudor era? Check out these ten recent and upcoming novels

Are you a historical fiction fan looking back fondly on the years of Tudormania, when novels set in 16th-century England (especially about the royals) were eagerly scooped up by publishers?  The good news is these books are still around, in smaller quantities perhaps, but novelists are still writing them, and readers still want them. During these fraught political times, when it's necessary to escape the news headlines periodically for one's own sanity, I've been finding myself gravitating toward earlier historical settings more often, including the Tudor era. Here are ten recent books set then, and I'll be posting reviews of many in the coming months. 

A story of politics, philosophy, and gender-bending intrigue featuring Alexander "Sander" Cooke, a young man famed for playing female roles in Shakespeare's plays in Elizabethan London, and his best friend Joan, restricted from intellectual circles because she's a woman. William Morrow, Feb. 2025.

Jane (Parker) Boleyn, who has featured previously in the author's The Boleyn Inheritance and others, gets the full-length treatment in Gregory's next novel. Her return to the Tudor era explores Jane's motivations for her notorious actions. This is the US cover, perhaps designed to attract dark romantasy fans?  HarperCollins, Oct. 2025.

This is the first historical novel I'm aware of about Mark Smeaton, the court musician accused of committing adultery with Queen Anne Boleyn (a treasonous act) and executed along with others caught up in the plot against Anne. His personal story is little known.  SparkPress, May 2025.

A modern woman visiting an old Tudor mansion in Norfolk comes upon the story of Anne Dacre, later Countess of Arundel. She loses her beloved younger brother, perhaps at her stepfather's hands, and fights to take revenge.  Boldwood, March 2025.

A trio of enterprising women band together to write poetry and plays secretly, and ask a certain rakish actor to pose as the author when their scheming attracts unwanted attention.  This sounds like a fun spin on the "Shakespeare authorship" theme oft-expressed in historical fiction. Alcove Press, July 2025. 

In this debut novel, Robert Smythson, the English architect famed for his design of Hardwick Hall, Wollaton Hall, and other Elizabethan manor houses, looks into a suspicious death discovered during the rebuilding of Longleat in Wiltshire. Glowing Log Books, Sept. 2024.

Another lesser-known Tudor personage claims the spotlight here: Anne, daughter of Henry VIII's good friend Charles Brandon, whose story of marital turmoil and clandestine romance is intertwined with that of a modern heiress and a remote country house in both women's lives.  Boldwood, Jan. 2025.

Knowing Alison Weir's familiarity with Tudor-era notables, "the Cardinal" here could be none other than Thomas Wolsey, Henry VIII's right-hand man (until he notably fell from grace). She explores his surprising career and personal life, including his affections for his longtime mistress.  Ballantine, May 2025.

Lady Margaret Clifford is a Tudor heir you may not have heard of; she was a granddaughter of Henry VIII's younger sister, Mary.  The novel details the political, religious, and romantic intrigue surrounding Margaret as the English throne passes to Lady Jane Grey and then Mary I.  This is first in a three-book series about women from the period. Sapere, Dec. 2024.

From the cover design and title, you might surmise that Wertman's latest Tudor novel retells the younger years of the future Elizabeth I in a narrative of hard-won wisdom and survival.  I enjoyed her novel The Boy King, about Elizabeth's half-brother, Edward VI.  Independently published, May 2025.

Haunting deceptions: Beth Ford's In the Time of Spirits

In the Time of Spirits is a novel of the late 19th-century spiritualist movement, seen from the perspective of those who performed seances for gullible audiences. Its plot takes unpredictable, often confounding turns, much like its strong-minded heroine. Are her actions irritating or all too fitting? They certainly offer much to think about!

After losing her parents in a house fire in Washington, DC, 22-year-old Adalinda (Addy) Cohart inherits a tidy sum. Although she’s grateful for the support of her longtime suitor, Arthur Simmons, Addy doesn’t want to wed anyone. She adores Marie Corelli’s mystical novels and sees mediums as important role models for independent, adventurous women.

Her interests lead her to New York City, alongside a female travel companion, and into the company of William Fairley, the handsome and charismatic assistant to the renowned Mrs. Alexi, whose spiritual talents seem fully plausible to the innocent Addy. Before long, Addy marries William, despite her previous aversion to wedlock, then accompanies him to London following an invite from a spiritualist organization. After being introduced to the secret tricks of his trade, Addy faces a life-changing choice.

The author’s smooth prose, unencumbered by elaborate descriptions, ensures a fast-paced read as Addy figures out what she wants and what she can tolerate. The text is so sparing of details, though, that the settings feel generic. Aside from notable landmarks, Manhattan, London, and Paris of the 1890s appear much the same. The theatrical performances Addy attends and the museum she visits remain nameless. The exceptions are the seances themselves. Rather selfish and a poor friend to others, Addy is often an unlikeable protagonist. However, by the dramatic turns of the finale, one might argue she is a memorable one.

This novel was published by Peony Books (the author's imprint) in 2024, and I wrote the review originally for the Historical Novels Review. The subject matter intrigued me, and so did the characters, even as their actions kept me guessing about where the plot was leading.  I learn new things about authors' approaches to historical fiction with every book I read, and so it was with this book. Readers new to the genre might not mind or notice the absence of place-specific details, though this aspect stood out for me. I'd still read more by the same author, who has written other historicals as well.