The Devil Incarnate

*This post contains spoilers for White Wolf*

It seemed inevitable, in the early drafting stages, that in a series built on the principle that a select handful of historical figures are actually immortal, supernatural beings, I would use Grigory Rasputin. The unkillable holy man from Siberia who charmed an emperor; the peasant who turned a nation - no, an empire - on its ear. Whose death was perhaps the first note in the death knell for the Romanov family. He's been a part of pop culture since he first stepped onto the scene in St. Petersburg, all those decades ago, making it into animated movies and song lyrics. Historians are still digging up diary entries, letters, and private papers that, when looked at together, tell a disjointed, though scintillating story of sex, alcoholism, and supposed demon worship. The truth? I'm not sure we'll ever know it. For my part, I've rather shamelessly turned the man into an actual monster for a fantasy series. 

Writing about real historical figures in a fictional sense, as opposed to a biographical one, proved more intimidating than I anticipated. To mention him in passing, I could have done some Googling. But to write him as an integral part of the story, and have him speak, I knew I needed to dig deeper. I'm so glad I took the time to properly research him, because I ended up having a whole new, much more in-depth perspective on the Romanovs, his relationship with them, and the Revolution. 

Before my research, I knew what I needed Rasputin to do within the narrative, and who he needed to be. Research didn't change the outcome of the story, but it did give me some great food for thought. 

My personal assessment of Rasputin - "Grisha" to the royal family - boils down, more or less, to "Um, no." With a side of "Ew, gross." The man was questionable at best, a sexual predator at worst. His photos alone chill me to the core; he looks like someone I'd run away from should I encounter him in a dark alley. And his words, taken down from a mix of his diary entries, letters, and poetry, though poorly phrased, provide a certain sinister context to some of the unsavory tales. 

But no two firsthand sources could ever seem to agree on who Rasputin was, what he stood for, and what he'd done. To Nicholas and Alexandra, he was a trusted advisor, a friend, and the one person able to comfort little Alexei when he hemorrhaged. But to many others he was, well, a creep. I believe he was most likely both, but don't believe that he was either controlling the tsar, or doing the sorts of things pedaled by certain voices in the media. 

Because my book was fiction, I had the freedom to do what I wanted. But an appreciation of history demanded that I get the little details right. And, after scouring story after story about Rasputin, I thought there was some merit, with this series in particular, in dedicating my efforts to deep characterization without any kind of moral commentary. It's important for me that I present the characters, that I explain their thought processes, morals, and rationalizations, but not my own. What I think of Rasputin is irrelevant to the story; what counts is what Sasha, and Nikita, and Katya, and the boys think of him. 

Going forward, we're going to meet a number of other true-life historical figures that I plan to obsess over and, hopefully, present in a way that feels as authentic as possible, given that I'm going off third- and fourth-hand intel. 

Some of the most exciting White Wolf feedback thus far has come from readers who aren't sure if they can trust certain characters, and I love that! Alexei, in particular, is a character who is complex, prickly, and still in the process of revealing himself to me. As a reader, I love having the chance to puzzle out characters as a series progresses, and I hope you'll all enjoy that process with the Sons of Rome.