Anachronisms: How Columbus Could Write a Check
When Christopher Columbus hit the shores of Haiti (that's as close as he got to our America), his resources and finances were depleted. Following introductions with the native people at the water's edge, Columbus said:
"I need some cash. Anywhere I can cash a check?"
The native people exchanged incredulous glances and wry smirks. Then the chief said:
"You can't cash a check today."
"Why?" Columbus asked.
As if it were common knowledge, the chief sighed and said: "All the banks are closed."
"Closed?" Columbus said surprised. "Why?"
The chief replied: "Because it's Columbus day!"
Banks and writing of checks in 1492 are anachronisms, which is something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time, especially a thing or person that belongs to an earlier time. Specifically, an anachronism belonging to an earlier time is called a prochronism; one belonging to a later time--like Columbus writing a check--is called a parachronism.
Nothing takes me right out of a story faster than anachronistic errors like a character listening to the Eagles' 1975 hit "One of these Nights" in a tale taking place in 1973 (parachronism); or, reading how a Nigerian man in 1950 spoke in the Ajawa language, when the language became extinct by 1940 (prochronism).
Granted, I don't always know enough about something to catch anachronisms, but, by golly, there are things I do know and there are things my readers know about the period in which some thing, person, tool, language, or song existed in time. And if I don't get it right, my story loses credibility. Once I've engendered a lack of confidence in my reader's mind, I've lost him--at least when it comes to the period, place and flavor of my story.
There are several accidental anachronisms in the 1995 hit film Apollo 13. The Beatles' Let It Be album appears in the movie a month before it was actually released. The NASA logo was incorrect, too. I've seen cardiopulmonary resuscitation being performed in World War II movies. It wasn't widely used until the late 1950s. Lake Wissota, near Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, is a man-made reservoir which didn't exist until five years after the Titanic sank (April 15, 1912). But guess what? In the 1997 film Titanic, Leonardo di Caprio's character Jack, one of the main characters in the movie, claims to have gone ice fishing on Lake Wissota. I always knew di Caprio was a clever sort. Even the grand bard himself couldn't avoid the period pitfalls of anachronisms.
Brutus: Peace! count the clock.
Cassius: The clock has stricken three.
(From Act II, scene i : lines 193 - 194 of Julius Caesar)
There were no mechanical clocks at the time of Julius Caesar in the year 44 A.D. In the same play:
...he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut...
A doublet is a garment worn during Shakespeare's time all right, but not in Julius Caesar's. Now I tend not to bedraggle the anachronisms of geniuses, but I'm no genius, so I want to get it right. So how do I avoid anachronisms in my writing?
Google™. Yep. As writers in the 21st century, we are blessed with the Almighty Search Engine. I can find out almost anything and place it in time with simple on-line research. In fact, I didn't know most of the examples in this piece; I discovered them using a search engine. But it's not particularly the time to check these things out while I'm writing. If the person or thing or whatever is integral to my story, yes, I'll check it out and see if I have it in the right time period. But if it's incidental, I'll let it go. When I directed Open Spaces, the feature film I wrote, I used to get caught up in some of the flubs and potential mistakes. My director of photography used to calmly take me aside and tell me: "Don't worry about it now. We'll fix it in post." Meaning post-production--during editing of the film. Same goes for the incidental stuff. I fix it when I'm editing.
During the writing of my book, Worlds Apart, I was conscious of the fact that the story takes place in 1966. So I was careful about certain things: brands; songs; styles of hair and clothing; pop culture; idioms (like "groovy,""bitchin'," and "far out"); and things that might not have been invented yet. If I'm writing in the present day, though, I still have to pay attention to things that, unknown to me, may no longer be available, have changed names, or even exist. I can't very well talk about John flying into Los Angeles aboard Northwest Airlines in 2010, since it merged with Delta in late 2008 and all their logos were gone by February, 2009.
As a writer, I'm fascinated--passionate--about time and geography and things in general. That fascination helps raise my anachronism antennae as I write. Patiently, I take the time to divert my attention from the brilliant story I'm telling to find out if this widget-doodad-thing-a-ma-jig I'm giving my character to use actually existed in 1952 Burma. Because I know that if it did, my story's credibility engages my reader. And if it didn't exist, someone might know it didn't. If that someone is an editor, my story is probably doomed to drown in the slush pile.
I hate when that happens.
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