The Fantasy Genre -- Inherently Self-Centered?
I had an interesting debate with Mike the other night. It all began when someone asked me what I thought of a new fantasy novel. I cannot reproduce the exact wording, but I will give the gist of it, with such embellishments as clarify the arguments. None of us sounded this persuasive in the real discussion.
We were holding this soiree at eleven o'clock in the evening, and most of the family had already gone to bed. Nate, Mike, and Jessica were arranged in various attitudes of repose on our two couches, and I sat cross-legged on the floor with a pillow. Jessica and Nate fell asleep fairly early in the conversation.
"What did you think, Christy?" Nate asked, referring to this novel.
"It's pretty good," I replied, after admitting that I had not thoroughly read it, but had heavily skimmed it. "The plot is more sophisticated than usual, though I sometimes get the feeling that the author is contriving pretty hard to avoid cliches. The characters are your usual set of chessmen on a fantasy board--not really people, but hand-painted ceramic instead of mass-produced plastic, so that's better than some."
"Snob," Nate laughed, from across the room.
"I hope not. But let me ask you a question. Isn't there a difference between the sort of characters one has in this book, and the unforgettables of great literature? To me, Raskolnikov and Mr. Wemmick simply are. The exist right now, somewhere, and I could not conceive of a world without them. They are people, same as you and I. These characters aren't people; I won't remember them tomorrow."
They looked at me as though surprised by the compellance of my argument. Mike asked a few questions, which led quickly into an explanation of "to teach and to delight," and then he inquired, "But is there some genre that you would especially encourage young writers to perfect themselves in, so that they might attain this teaching and delighting?"
It was my turn to stare. "I beg your pardon?"
He repeated his question, but I didn't even know how to go about grappling with it. To me, all forms are available, and no one is better than any other, except that for each contentful message there will be a form best suited to it. But in general, no genre is more appropriate to the aggregate goal of teaching and delighting than any other. At least, not to a writer. I have never heard a writer hazard such a suggestion. I communicated this to him, and added, "But now you mention it, I do sometimes wonder whether the fantasy genre, at least as we now have it, does not lend itself to a post-Romantic self-expressionism."
"One so rarely sees fantasy authors trying to teach much of anything; it is all about innovations of form. They do not really live their worlds, nor really believe in them, because there really isn't anything in them, no weight or substance that is taught or teachable or existant, and so none of their readers really believe either."
The conversation ended soon after, for it was late. My thoughts, however, progressed...
It seems to be rather like free verse. There is nothing wrong with the form, but it is generally misused. Fantasy writers tend to be the sort of people who want to spin worlds of their own making, but worlds without laws or absolutes that even the author must obey. It would be like me writing my Longaevi according to my own whims, and never allowing them to have a thought or desire contrary to my will--the author's will.
But now I am in theological waters, and had better stop. Thoughts?
We were holding this soiree at eleven o'clock in the evening, and most of the family had already gone to bed. Nate, Mike, and Jessica were arranged in various attitudes of repose on our two couches, and I sat cross-legged on the floor with a pillow. Jessica and Nate fell asleep fairly early in the conversation.
"What did you think, Christy?" Nate asked, referring to this novel.
"It's pretty good," I replied, after admitting that I had not thoroughly read it, but had heavily skimmed it. "The plot is more sophisticated than usual, though I sometimes get the feeling that the author is contriving pretty hard to avoid cliches. The characters are your usual set of chessmen on a fantasy board--not really people, but hand-painted ceramic instead of mass-produced plastic, so that's better than some."
"Snob," Nate laughed, from across the room.
"I hope not. But let me ask you a question. Isn't there a difference between the sort of characters one has in this book, and the unforgettables of great literature? To me, Raskolnikov and Mr. Wemmick simply are. The exist right now, somewhere, and I could not conceive of a world without them. They are people, same as you and I. These characters aren't people; I won't remember them tomorrow."
They looked at me as though surprised by the compellance of my argument. Mike asked a few questions, which led quickly into an explanation of "to teach and to delight," and then he inquired, "But is there some genre that you would especially encourage young writers to perfect themselves in, so that they might attain this teaching and delighting?"
It was my turn to stare. "I beg your pardon?"
He repeated his question, but I didn't even know how to go about grappling with it. To me, all forms are available, and no one is better than any other, except that for each contentful message there will be a form best suited to it. But in general, no genre is more appropriate to the aggregate goal of teaching and delighting than any other. At least, not to a writer. I have never heard a writer hazard such a suggestion. I communicated this to him, and added, "But now you mention it, I do sometimes wonder whether the fantasy genre, at least as we now have it, does not lend itself to a post-Romantic self-expressionism."
"One so rarely sees fantasy authors trying to teach much of anything; it is all about innovations of form. They do not really live their worlds, nor really believe in them, because there really isn't anything in them, no weight or substance that is taught or teachable or existant, and so none of their readers really believe either."
The conversation ended soon after, for it was late. My thoughts, however, progressed...
It seems to be rather like free verse. There is nothing wrong with the form, but it is generally misused. Fantasy writers tend to be the sort of people who want to spin worlds of their own making, but worlds without laws or absolutes that even the author must obey. It would be like me writing my Longaevi according to my own whims, and never allowing them to have a thought or desire contrary to my will--the author's will.
But now I am in theological waters, and had better stop. Thoughts?
posted by Praelucor at 9:10 AM
2 Comments:
Audrey is a form of fantasy... in fact, my first attempt at fantasy, which might explain the absence of many fantasy-like creatures -- I don't want to go overboard :).
Fantasy can be ridden with cliches. But it presents an opportunity because it is so open-ended -- the author can create any characters in any world, in which to illustrate a theme.
Do some genres "teach and delight" better than others?
Is form neutral?
What is the relationship between form and content? In good art the two should work together... as if the content would not be expressed better in any other form than the one chosen.
As Christians we are concerned that our content communicate truth and beauty, that it teach and delight. Does that, should that, prohibit us from using some forms, and cause us to favor other forms?
I like posing questions for which I have no answers :). Maybe that's why I like to teach? - Lisa
I agree, mostly, with you, Christy. This is why I do not normally condescend to read fantasy - authors make their worlds too perfect. Everything fits together so well that it's not real. Our world has what appear to be inexplicable loose ends, because we're not omniscient. Fantasy worlds should be the same way.
Of course, I'm writing fantasy now, but only because I want to talk about important truths and sneak them in sideways. And it's not really so much about the story. Last summer, as I was writing my world, I realized I wasn't having fun any more. It was work. So I prayed for a while, and then I left the computer. I sat down in my basement "cave" (study) with my notebook and started to write longhand. Susan appeared. I'm writing Susan's story. I need to write Susan's story. I suspect hers, in many ways, will resemble mine.
Good post.
Lisa, good questions. I think some forms prohibit the use of some content. I also think some of the best books ever written defy genres. "Genre" is an artificial construct, after all, much like race. A book is a book. Written a certain way, it fits best into a particular category, but it is still an individual.
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