The Accidental Empress (77 page)

It is clear that there was an intense affection between Andrássy and Sisi. Andrássy wrote, toward the end of his life, that he was one of the few people in the world who knew the true Sisi. He referred to her as “the pinnacle of all womanhood” and Hungary’s “Beautiful Providence.” Men loved Sisi as soon as they met her. Women loved Andrássy as soon as they met him. What then must the chemistry have been like between the two of them?

Rumors circulated in both Austria and Hungary that they were lovers. Sisi’s fourth child (the one she is carrying at the end of this novel) was gossiped and written about in Vienna as “the Hungarian child,” a moniker that couldn’t help but raise suspicions as to the parentage. Add in Sisi’s decampment from Vienna to Budapest, and her flagrant preference for the company of Hungarians over Austrians, and you have the fixings for scandal on an imperial scale.

The relationship with Andrássy was one that gave Sisi hope and purpose. The years in which Sisi worked closely with Andrássy for the cause of Hungarian autonomy were the years in which she came into her own—both as a woman, and also as a leader. So, in my imagining of it, Andrássy was a huge part of that.

Q:
Were there places where you deliberately deviated from the historical record to veer off into fiction?

A:
Yes. And that is probably the biggest challenge for me in writing historical fiction: first wrangling the historical record and then allowing myself the creative space to write fiction inspired by it. Each instance where I altered or interpreted the facts was the result of much thought and intentional deliberation. As this is a novel and not a biography, I had the luxury of pulling not only from the proven facts, but from the mythology and reports as well. Take my fictional rendering of the Andrássy relationship as an example. There were rumors and reports that the relationship between Andrássy and Sisi was a romantic one, and they certainly loved one another, but biographers obviously can’t prove definitively whether they were intimate. Additionally, this is the Victorian era we are talking about, so matters as delicate as intimacy were dealt with in those days only through innuendo and gossip, veiled with the secrecy and shame necessitated by the prudery of the time. In my fiction, I chose to imagine and explore the possibilities that were enabled by the rumors, and I gave Sisi and Andrássy the full extent of a romantic relationship. It seemed like the appropriate arc for them as characters of this novel.

Additionally, Andrássy did not meet Sisi for the first time at the opera in Vienna. At that point, Andrássy was still a political opponent of Franz Joseph’s (exiled after the uprisings of 1848–49) and was not a visitor to the Austrian capital. But, knowing what a major character he was to be, both in Sisi’s real life and in my own novel, I chose to introduce the character of Andrássy to the reader and to Sisi a bit earlier than the actual dates would have allowed.

Another place where I deviated from the historical record was in the treatment of some of the tangential family members. For example, Franz Joseph’s father was still alive during the years covered in
The Accidental Empress
, but he was an inconsequential player in Sisi’s life and marriage. As my fictional Franz Joseph says in this novel, it was his grandfather, the Emperor Franz, who played the primary role of father figure in his life. Franz Joseph’s father was unambitious and weak and played almost no role at court, and no role in Sisi’s life.

Franz Joseph also had three younger brothers and a younger sister. But, again, as they played only minor roles in the life of Sisi, I made the strategic decision not to expand the already large list of supporting characters.

On Sisi’s side of the family: Karl, Sisi’s brother, was not such a bullying menace as I portrayed him in my book. Sisi was actually close to all of her siblings. I needed a mechanism for some early character development for the spirited, plucky young Sisi, and so Karl became an early opponent of sorts.

The imperial trip to Salzburg during Sisi’s first winter as empress was entirely fictional. They did travel to Salzburg throughout their marriage, but not at that moment. However, having been to Salzburg at Christmastime, and having witnessed firsthand the magic of that Alpine town over the holidays, I felt that there had to be a scene with them there, in that place where “Silent Night” was composed. And I wanted it to be while they were still happy.

For the purpose of pacing, I’ve modified the timing of Sisi’s fourth pregnancy just slightly. Historians assert that Sisi brought every bit of leverage she had to the negotiating table in order to bring Franz Joseph around to the idea of the Hungarian Compromise; a temporary reconciliation in the marriage was a critical piece of that. Sisi and Franz Joseph conceived around the time of the Austro-Hungarian Compromise, but it was right after the coronation as opposed to right before it.

And finally, individuals who are well-versed in the musical history of this time period will note that there’s an anachronism in my mentioning of “The Skater’s Waltz.” Émile Waldteufel composed that hauntingly beautiful piece several decades later than I place it here. I utilized the license granted to historical fiction to get this great piece into the story because it is so whimsical and moving and lovely, and it struck me as the perfect musical accompaniment for Franz Joseph and Sisi while falling in love. It also happens to be a piece of great personal significance to me, and if there’s one waltz that I would credit with providing me with the musical fuel and inspiration needed to write this story, it’s that one.

Q:
What about the rest of the cast of characters? Are they based on the historical account?

A:
I drew directly from the history in creating the characters for
The Accidental Empress.
And I was so fortunate to have such a colorful and complex cast of individuals from which to pull. Agata, the servant, is the only major character created entirely from fiction. Pretty much everyone else is named for and plays a role inspired by the role they played in Empress Elisabeth’s life.

Q:
What is the biggest challenge in writing a novel like
The Accidental Empress?

A:
Wrangling the historical record. There’s so much information out there. And it’s so fascinating that I want to use it all. I wanted to include as many facts and events and individuals as I could, until the story was bursting at the seams.

When writing a novel, the story has to flow in a manner completely different from that of a textbook or a straight biography. I can’t just list an infinite number of facts. I have to choose what I need in order to tell my fictionalized version of this story.

It was also difficult when I came to junctions in Sisi’s life where the historical record is mixed on what exactly happened. For example, when Sisi flees court for the first time, shortly after Rudolf’s birth, some historians point to her husband giving her a venereal disease and/or being discovered in infidelity. Others say it was entirely Sisi’s depression and other mental health crises that caused her to ail. I can’t say who is correct, but, since this is historical fiction, I chose to explore one possibility and what it would mean for the arc of the characters and the plot.

Q:
What went into your research?

A:
A lot of reading. The names of the biographies and books I relied on are listed in my acknowledgments. I read not only about the characters but also about the world they inhabited and what their daily lives might have looked and felt like. I’m grateful that so many historians have devoted so much time and research to these individuals, and that I get to be the beneficiary of all of that great work.

And then one of the most fun parts of the research process is traveling. It was in Vienna, years ago, that I first stumbled across the image of Sisi. She still looms large in Austria and Hungary as an almost deified figure to this day. The Schönbrunn and Hofburg Palaces are fantastic resources in which to learn about not only Sisi, but all of the Habsburgs. Vienna today still feels so grand and imperial.

Budapest, to me, feels more whimsical and unruly. Walking around the Castle Hill and looking out over the Danube and the Chain Bridge, I could imagine why the romantic Sisi loved it there so much.

Both places were hugely important locales in her story, so I loved visiting both to learn about Sisi, Franz Joseph, and their life together.

Q:
Speaking of Budapest, the scene of the Hungarian coronation is interwoven throughout the novel. Why did you pick that scene to be both the grand finale and the linking scene that we keep coming back to as readers?

A:
That was Sisi’s moment of triumph. It was at that time that Sisi reached the height of her power, her influence, and her physical strength and beauty.

The years leading up to this moment had shown that the policies advocated by Archduchess Sophie and the conservative bloc at court were failing. The disastrous war with Prussia was a clear example of that. And meanwhile, Sisi’s power at court was in the ascendency. It was at that time that she began to make demands for herself as an individual and a mother, as well as to assert herself as an advisor in politics.

The Hungarians truly did love Sisi and embrace her as their queen in a way that they did no other Habsburg. And Sisi returned that affection. She did in fact learn Hungarian and infuriated many in Vienna by speaking in Hungarian. And she did choose to surround herself more and more with Hungarians (like her two favorite attendants, Marie and Ida). After years of unhappiness at the Viennese Court, Sisi negotiated a separate peace for herself. Hungary was a huge part of that.

Q:
So the ending is kind of a cliffhanger. Is there a part two in the story of Sisi?

A:
Well, from where I’m sitting, there’s a lot more story to be told!

Sisi has a lot more living to do, and I can tell you this much—if you think her life has been tumultuous and dramatic so far, you have to see what happens in the coming years.

Acknowledgments

I am indebted
to countless historians, biographers, curators, and fellow devotees of Sisi and her fascinating life. The historical record and writings on Sisi are so abundant and complex that I had a veritable feast of facts, dates, characters, rumors, and reports from which to pluck the makings for this historical fiction novel.

Sisi remains, centuries later, much as she did throughout her life: magnetic, elusive, confounding, endlessly enchanting. She was a figure who inspired mythology even in her own lifetime. As the simplest of stories has at least two sides to it, then imagine how many sides there are to the rich and significant story that is the life of Empress Elisabeth of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

The books on which I relied in my research were:
The Fall of the House of Habsburg
by Edward Crankshaw;
Twilight of the Habsburgs: The Life and Times of Emperor Francis Joseph
by Alan Palmer;
The Habsburg Monarchy, 1809–1918: A History of the Austrian Empire and Austria-Hungary
by A. J. P. Taylor;
The Lonely Empress: Elizabeth of Austria
by Joan Haslip;
The Reluctant Empress: A Biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria
by Brigitte Hamann;
Franz Joseph and Elisabeth: The Last Great Monarchs of Austria-Hungary
by Karen Owens;
A Nervous Splendor: Vienna 1888–1889
by Fredric Morton;
Fin de Siecle Vienna: Politics and Culture
by Carl E. Schorske, and
The Swan King: Ludwig II of Bavaria
by Christopher McIntosh. All of these are nonfiction accounts, and all of them come with extensive bibliographies and source references. Especially invaluable were the personal letters and diaries of the members of the Habsburg family and court, translated and transcribed in Brigitte Hamann’s work. I thank all of these historians for making my job so much easier.

It was at Schönbrunn Palace, over a decade ago, that I first slipped into Sisi’s world, and I’ve been going back there in my mind since then. Now I hope readers will want to do the same, through their own imaginations and the pages of
The Accidental Empress.

To my agent and friend, Lacy Lynch: thank you for your instinct, your tireless work ethic, your dedication, your integrity, your humor. Thank you for being on this journey with me, having believed in me and helped me grow since the very first and roughest of manuscripts.

To my editor, Beth Adams: I’m grateful that my work was once again in your capable hands. Thank you for your clarity of vision and for caring about Sisi and her story as much as I do. Thank you for steering the ship with grace, humor, and your keen insight.

To Lindsay Mullen, Katie Nuckolls, Alyssa VandeLeest, and the whole rock-star team at Prosper Strategies: you are untiring and unflappable. There is nothing you cannot do.

My deepest thanks to those who make it possible for me to do what I love: to Jan Miller, Shannon Marven, and the entire team at Dupree Miller & Associates; to Jonathan Merkh, Becky Nesbitt, Amanda Demastus, Brandi Lewis, Rob Birkhead, Jennifer Smith, Chris McCarthy, and the whole team at Howard Books; to Carolyn Reidy and the whole team at Simon & Schuster; to Judith Curr and your team at Atria; to Kathryn Higuchi and your team of meticulous copy editors; to Daniel Decker for your singular knowledge of the bookselling world; and to Rachel Cali for your fact-checking expertise.

Special thanks to friends who have supported me and worked with me on this journey: Ambassador and Mrs. Earle Mack; Ambassador and Mrs. Hushang Ansary; Carolyn Rossi and the Copeland family; Harvey Weinstein; Kathie Lee Gifford; the Yale, Hackley, and Putnam County communities, who have mobilized with gusto to help me launch my career; Allison McCabe for your friendship and words of wisdom; Leonard Riggio; Pamela Robinson; Lucy Stille; Dana Spector and the team at Paradigm; Pamela and David B. Ford and the team at Princess Pictures; Steve Golin, Doreen Wilcox Little, Paul Green, and the team at Anonymous Content; Zenia Mucha; Fred Newman; Richard Farren; Rabbi Jacob Freund; Sheila Weber; and Desiree Gruber.