Narrated from the contemporary perspective of an unnamed diplomat’s daughter, the story juggles the girl’s search – in 1972 – for her father, Paul, and his history, whilst simultaneously exploring the story of his mentor, Professor Bartholomew Rossi, in the 1930s.
The Historian is a journey across centuries, although the narrative itself is firmly rooted in the 20th century.
Bought by Little, Brown and Company for $2 million, the novel was the product of 10 years worth of researching and writing – a fact made evident by Kostova’s impressive grasp of medieval history and the myths surrounding vampiric lore. It is from this context that 2005 saw the release of Elizabeth Kostova’s epic Dracula-inspired thriller, The Historian. The piles of copies of The Da Vinci Code were unending and apparently rivalled only by the phenomenon that accompanied the – significantly more adult – obsession with Fifty Shades of Grey.Īlthough Dan Brown’s particular mix of climatic thrills and disguised fiction has drawn significant derision from the literary world, The Da Vinci Code sparked a publishing revolution in attention to this unique brand of historical thriller. Four years after the book’s release, I began both my undergraduate degree and a lengthy stint as a volunteer in a local charity shop. That feeling of being surrounded by the mysteries of the Priory of Sion, Opus Dei, and their strange conspiracy in the legacy of Jesus Christ is something that it took many years to escape. Everyone I knew was reading and discussing the mixture of fact and fiction that Brown so successfully utilised to propel himself – and the histories upon which he capitalised – into the public eye. Although I was just 14 at the time of the book’s publication, there was an inescapable sense of being surrounded by the novel. I still remember with surprising clarity the popular hysteria that followed the release of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. And it is not only reaching back that endangers us sometimes history itself reaches inexorably forward for us with its shadowy claw.” As a historian, I have learned that, in fact, not everyone who reaches back into history can survive it. It is the story of who survived that search and who did not, and why. This is the story of how as a girl of sixteen I went in search of my father and his past, and of how he went in search of his beloved mentor and his mentor’s own history, and of how we all found ourselves on one of the darkest pathways into history. Recently, however, a shock of sorts has prompted me to look back over the most troubling episodes of my life and the lives of the several people I loved best.
“The story that follows is one I never intended to commit to paper.
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