Nixon a larger share of happiness than life did. In my book, an invented character named Tom Garahan-a genial New York widower, retired from trust-and-estates law-has a brief, tender affair with Pat Nixon during the mid-nineteen-sixties, her husbandвЂ™s вЂњwilderness years.вЂќ Garahan has no important influence on the bookвЂ™s main plot, so why do I have him as an important element of the backstory? Maybe heвЂ™s there out of the redemptive impulse that drives a great deal of alt-history.

But the temptations of alt-history are always present as one writes, and sometimes they go unresisted. This book, too, adheres mostly to the вЂњas wellвЂќ and not вЂњinstead ofвЂќ model. This past summer, I felt the need to check about thirteen hundred facts pertaining to the Watergate scandal before I relinquished proofs of a novel IвЂ™d written about it. In alt-history fiction, Truman would be sent packing to Independence, Missouri. The writer presents not so much вЂњwhat might have happened insteadвЂќ as вЂњwhat could have happened as well.вЂќ In my own novel вЂњDewey Defeats Truman,вЂќ the famous headline remains wrong, but a brash young Republican triumphs in the imaginary small-town love triangle that mirrors the national election. Even so, standard historical fiction, whether вЂњGone with the WindвЂќ or вЂњAusterlitz,вЂќ tends to consist of plausible stories that have been grafted onto enduring historical facts. The fact-by-fact decision-making involved in composing mainstream historical fiction-what to change, when to leave well enough alone-is uncodified and imprecise, conducted on a sliding scale thatвЂ™s always a slippery slope. In fact, even most writers of historical fiction still reject the larger manipulations of вЂњalt-historyвЂќ as a genre fictionвЂ™s genre fiction. Simon Heffer starts with a slam-bang premise and title (вЂњThe Brighton Bomb Kills Margaret ThatcherвЂќ), but goes wobbly when pushing himself to imagine Britain under the Prime MinisterвЂ™s most likely successor, Defense Secretary Michael Heseltine: вЂњIt is reasonable to believe that he would have pursued the further selling-off of nationalised industries.вЂќ Most of RobertsвЂ™s alterers seem to remain awkwardly conscious of trespassing on precincts better suited to historical novelists. His writers, a more journalistic lot than FergusonвЂ™s, operate with a little more narrative daring (вЂњThe coronation of Queen Elizabeth II took place on a fine, fair day in January 1606вЂќ), but often not much. One of them, Andrew Roberts (вЂњWhat if Germany had invaded Britain in May 1940?вЂќ), went on to edit another anthology in 2004 (вЂњWhat Might Have BeenвЂќ). FergusonвЂ™s historians-wondering вЂњWhat if Home Rule had been enacted in 1912?вЂќ and вЂњWhat if Charles I had avoided the Civil War?вЂќ-are speculative but sober in for a penny, not for a pound. The results can be enlightening, but theyвЂ™re not much fun. Squire in 1932, for the way it made counter-factualism a вЂњjeu dвЂ™esprit, a vehicle for wishful thinking or reductive explanation-and, above all, high table humour.вЂќ Hoping for gravitas, Ferguson assembled his own crew with strict instructions against mission creep: the contributors to вЂњVirtual HistoryвЂќ were to keep things plausible by restricting their substitute outcomes to those вЂњwhich contemporaries contemplated.вЂќ In other words, no what-might-have-beens that werenвЂ™t once вЂњviable alternatives.вЂќ Ferguson rolled his own eyes over an earlier what-if anthology, edited by J. Illustration by Barry BlittДЄ whole range of historical outlooks, from belief in divine will to scientific determinism, have no time for it. A redemptive impulse drives a great deal of alt-history: writers can retouch destiny.

Alternate history byzantine empire