The surge of interest that historical fiction has been recently enjoying might be attributed to a number of factors. On the one hand, this is a genre that has been building up its recognition for over two centuries; and, if we follow those who emphasise that the roots of the historical novel go beyond Walter Scott’s Waverley (1814), the antecedents of the genre can be traced to Antiquity (Wills, 2002, p. 198). Thus, however we wish to date historical fiction, we invariably end up with the conclusion that the genre has already amassed a large ensemble of buffs and their number increases.

Apart from that, the current socio-intellectual developments also fuel its popularity. Various forms of nostalgia (ostalgie, steampunk) translate into readers’ fascination with the bygones and their literary, cinematic, and television renderings (neo-Victorian fiction being perhaps one of the best examples of fiction turning to the past to express feelings of a certain lack in the current era) (Davidson, 2022, p. 865). The rising level of social anxiety concerning our future also pushes readers towards works that concentrate on the past (as these might potentially have some alleviating effects, as in the case of historical romances) (O’Grady, 2019). The growth of identity studies has also fuelled the readers’ interest in historical fiction as it can be utilised as a constructive tool with to explore and understand one’s roots as well as engage with and interrogate historical, cultural, and social aspects of identity (Valente, 2011, p. 80).

Notably, the genre’s internal developments also contribute to its attractiveness. First, historical fiction attracts the attention of readers because it addresses the social issues that have grown over time to currently great concerns (human rights, gender inequalities, abuses of minorities) (Maslen, 2001; Wallace, 2005). Moreover, it has also been transformed with regard to its own generic conventions. Much as realism remains its staple, the more and more generic admixtures that historical fiction has incorporated not only make it more attractive to those already fascinated with the genre but also entice the enthusiasts of genres from which these come (Wallace, 2005). Third, historical fiction of the twenty-first century—even if it concurrently suffers from ectypality (Plate, 2011, pp. 20–25)—tends to offer no safe space in which to find intellectual rest in the dumbed-down past. Written to retell the past from new perspectives, historical fiction offers information that, quite often, is not available in popular history works (and hence, most likely, not present in public awareness) or might be classified as conjectural. But, apart from introducing its readers to “new” data, historical fiction also interrogates the concepts on the basis of which the bygone world orders have operated. Thus, its intellectual value lies not only in providing its readers with encyclopaedic-like knowledge about a given topic but also in encouraging us to observe how ideas have shaped the human condition and how crucial their critical assessment is.

Although this list of general reasons why historical fiction has been receiving more and more attention could be continued, we believe, it is sufficient to give a reader of this collection of essays the necessary context against which their contribution to the various discussions pertaining to historical fiction can be undersood. However, before moving on to discussing these contributions, a proviso is needed. Of course, the following texts do not address every single discussion that historical fiction scholars are engaged in. And, even if they are linked by several themes (for instance, the explicitly revisionary nature of post-2000 historical fiction), two issues dictate their organisation. The first five texts deal with transgressions characteristic of historical fiction: Yomna Saber, Justyna Jajszczok, and Johanna Kluger discuss the generic ones (the first two authors focus on incorporations of whodunit elements into the genre, whereas Kluger on social shifts generating changes within it). Barbara Braid and Alicja Bemben concern themselves with more theoretical ways in which contemporary historical fiction goes beyond its tradition, that is, with the ways in which it negotiates the fact versus fiction opposition.

Yomna Saber’s analysis of how The confessions of Frannie Langton (2019) mixes gothic fiction, historical romance, and historical mystery shows how these authorial gestures serve Sara Collins to blur the difference between remembering and forgetting. In a similar vein, Justyna Jajszczok’s article shows how combining historical fiction with mystery elements in Laura Purcell’s The shape of darkness has the potential to shift the generic identification of the novel towards the metaphysical. Read as companions, both these articles foreground how crucial the historical and social context is for sha** not just the characters and events of the discussed plots but, most importantly, the generic makeup of these works.

The illuminating analysis of the evolution of the hero in historical romances by Johanna Kluger also pertains to historical fiction’s generic conventions. In this case, the author focuses on the internal changes within the Regency romance. Following how the changes in the hero’s portrayal reflect the social changes of the given time, Kluger builds the grounds on which she shows that the contemporary incarnation of the hero is “less forceful than his predecessors and [places emphasis] on enthusiastic consent and the heroine’s pleasure.”

These three texts’ concern with the changes that historical fiction has undergone continues in the articles by Barbara Braid and Alicja Bemben, albeit with a slight refocus on the ways in which contemporary historical fiction negotiates the fact versus fiction opposition. In her article, Braid uses two biofictions—Daphne (dir. Clare Beavan, 2007) and Shirley (dir. Josephine Decker, 2020)—to substantiate her argument that conjectures allow their authors to “envisage an alternative reading of women’s history and to complement the archive with imagined possibilities.” Bemben’s text chimes in with this idea, though its essential purpose is to propose a theory of prosthetic past based on the works of Alison Landsberg—Prosthetic memory: The transformation of American remembrance in the age of mass culture (2004)—and Katherine Reay—The London house (2021).

The three texts that follow gravitate around the idea of how contemporary historical fictions are concerned with granting agency retroactively. The articles by Zuzanna Raczyńska and Nina Voigt show two sides of the same coin, that is, the discussion on what actions empower women and what actions make them perpetuate patriarchal behavioural patterns. Raczyńska’s reading of Madeline Miller’s Circe (2018) puts forward that practising medicine and magic can indeed aid female characters in opposing patriarchy and claiming the agency it thwarts in them. Voigt’s text argues the contrary using Amy McKay’s The witches of New York (2016). The volume closes with Katarzyna Myśliwiec’s article, which also focuses on a witch-like figure—Grendel’s mother—as she is rendered by S.S. Morrison, D. Stout, and A. Crownover. Myśliwiec’s work brings together various perspectives on how nuanced the issue of expressing agency by women is. In the context of the articles that precede, it clearly shows that one and the same form of expressing agency might either challenge or support patriarchy, and these are the particulars of these expressions that seem to be responsible for their end effects.

Finally, although the proposed articles mesh to indicate that the issues of transgression and agency are two among the most prominent features of contemporary historical fiction, these texts work as well within their own frameworks. This is suggestive of the great cognitive potential of historical fiction—both as a basis to which various theories, motifs, and structures can be applied and as a provider of new insights into various social, philosophical, and political phenomena of the bygone and our times. With this in mind, we hope the offered articles will appeal to a broad readership and deepen scholarly understanding of the complexities inherent in historical fiction, and thus will contribute to ongoing academic discourse and enrich our comprehension of this dynamic and evolving literary genre.