By Andrea Eschen
From a kitchen drawer, I pull out a silver spoon and squint to decipher the engraving in German of the name of my great-grandfather’s brother and 1865, his first birthday. Stashed in a bedside drawer is a white satin box from Marshall Field and Company’s Fine Fans. I widen my great-grandmother’s fan of white lace trussed by pearl ribs. In a dresser drawer under socks, a tiny box holds a gold ring with hair woven between the bands. A penciled note says the strands came from my great-grandfather’s mother.
I’m using these mementos to create scenes for the nonfiction narrative I’m writing about my great-grandfather Victor Falkenau and his role as a building contractor in the development of Chicago. I can’t make up one word—though I can craft vivid scenes from the detai…
By Andrea Eschen
From a kitchen drawer, I pull out a silver spoon and squint to decipher the engraving in German of the name of my great-grandfather’s brother and 1865, his first birthday. Stashed in a bedside drawer is a white satin box from Marshall Field and Company’s Fine Fans. I widen my great-grandmother’s fan of white lace trussed by pearl ribs. In a dresser drawer under socks, a tiny box holds a gold ring with hair woven between the bands. A penciled note says the strands came from my great-grandfather’s mother.
I’m using these mementos to create scenes for the nonfiction narrative I’m writing about my great-grandfather Victor Falkenau and his role as a building contractor in the development of Chicago. I can’t make up one word—though I can craft vivid scenes from the details I know. How much nonfiction can I draw from these relics, and which do I leave in a drawer?
In seven years of researching and writing this book, I’ve made many mistakes. Fortunately, historical narrative classes gave me tools to select trustworthy sources and create an honest story.
**Don’t make assumptions: Review multiple sources to determine what happened. **From the 1900 census, I discovered that Victor’s first child, Therese, was born in July 1893. Victor married his wife Marie a month later. In fiction, this is fodder for torrid love scenes of the sweethearts escaping a chaperone. As a plot twist, Marie could go to a home for unwed mothers.
For nonfiction, I needed to investigate. I analyzed Victor’s letters to Therese―when she learned to ride a “wheel” and when he asked her to write postcards to him. On a photograph of chubby-cheeked Therese, Marie had written “1896,” a clue to the toddler’s age. Examining later censuses, which provided no birth year, I discovered spelling errors in “Falkenau.” I concluded that the census taker had mistakenly written 1893, not 1894. I stuck to my interpretation of the data: Use the family’s facts, not a stranger’s.
Research symbolism of mementos and other possessions to understand their historical and social significance. The silver spoon Victor’s grandparents presented to his brother Harry celebrated survival to his first birthday at a time when 29 percent of babies died before that milestone. Silver spoons, cups, and rattles showed investment in a baby’s future. They demonstrated the giver’s affluence and refinement. With this cultural context, I developed a scene about the gift’s importance to givers and recipients.
I don’t have facts for an episode in which Marie pulls out her fan at an opera or charitable event, where women displayed their adornments along with their social class. However, when I describe her attire for any soiree, I’ll depict the fan and what shoppers saw at Marshall Field’s. Details will come from newspapers, advertisements, and my research into the role of department stores in Chicago.
In a letter Victor’s mother penned on her death bed, she willed hair rings, brooches, and cufflinks to her children. These pieces signified friendship and love as prescribed by Victorian fashion.
The spoon, fan, and jewelry and their symbolismtell me about the family’s traditions, beliefs, and social standing―all informing the entire story.
**If what happened is unclear, use historical information to relay what others did in the same situation without saying the characters did it. **My book describes tuberculosis treatments that Victor’s father and oldest brother underwent on Portugal’s island of Madeira, where Europeans sought cures in the 1800s. Victor’s letters reveal some of their pastimes, but nonemention the disease.I’ve scoured medical documents, tourism booklets, and scientific articles about therapies on Madeira, and used this information to help readers imagine the Falkenau men weathering these practices without ascribing the actions to them.
“Doctors advised consumption patients like Morris and Willie to swig cod liver oil, when their digestive system tolerated it. The ill took iron and quinine for symptoms of anemia. They sipped Vichy waters to treat gastrointestinal problems.”
**Use facts to embellish the story without flooding readers. **I crammed my early drafts with facts. Surely, readers would also find them fascinating! Instead, abundant data tripped them up. Book buyers first want a good story. Then it can be adorned with historical details on the characters’ experiences and their world.
Since Victor was a contractor, some paragraphs must describe structures of cement, bricks, and steel―all cold as stone. To make the story stick, I’ve intertwined facts with movement to spur readers’ imagination.
Regarding the Stock Exchange Victor built in 1893:
“In just two months, hundreds of lawyers, actuaries, insurance brokers, and company executives in bowlers would stride under the magnificent twenty-three-foot tall stone arch, through the lobby, and into an elevator that would rush them to one of 480 offices…On the second floor, traders would yell orders while clerks would dash between telephones and telegraphs lined along a wall and jot down prices as they toppled in.”
In an interview with Joy Horowitz, award-winning nonfiction author Erik Larson (The Devil in the White City) captured the importance of rigorous research, detail, and truth. He said, “The key is the itty-bitty details that somehow light the imagination. You’ve got to find the little details that cause the narrative to get up and walk.”
Although you’ve got plenty of facts, some must stay in the drawer. The best add sparkle to the narrative to embellish the characters’ world and actions.
***Readers: Are you writing family history? What have you discovered? Any mistakes you’ve learned from? ***
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Andrea Eschen’s essays have appeared in Months to Years, All Your Stories, and Spillwords. Her Substack, Building Modern Chicago, shares her discoveries while writing about her great-grandfather, Victor Falkenau, a renowned—and controversial—contractor who helped shape the city’s architectural, labor, and social history. She’d love to hear your thoughts on historic narrative!
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Tagged: historical nonfiction, narrative nonfiction, writing on substack