One of my students who wishes to remain anonymous answers affirmatively:
When studying fantasy, a question of vast importance must be asked: is studying fantasy fiction relevant? And can anything come from studying this specific genre of fiction? Critics and skeptics alike have long questioned the value of fantasy, often doubting its place in education and academic institutions. This question long surrounding the genre can be answered by simply picking up a work of fantasy and falling into the majestic world that awaits you.
As a student who has never studied or read a work of fantasy prior to taking Fantasy Fiction, I can attest to the genre's relevance in academia and society and proudly confirm that one can take away as many life lessons and ideas from a fantasy work as a history textbook or literary landmark. My first fantasy reading experience was reading Tolkien's The Hobbit. From there the class covered fantasy classic after classic, from Lewis's The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe to more relevant staples in the genre like Pullman's The Golden Compass. There is no novel that proves fantasy's relevance more successfully than Piers Anthony's A Spell for Chameleon. Anthony tackles the "coming-of-age" story in a fresh new way by telling his story in a fantasy world, allowing the reader to converge into an unknown place, taking away from Bink's tale entertainment and more importantly a new interpretation of growing up and finding oneself in the journey known as life. Previously, I have only encountered life-altering "coming-of-age" tales from movies, music, and early- to mid-20th century fiction by the likes of Flannery O'Connor and Stefan Zweig.
A Spell for Chameleon in the first novel in Anthony's Xanth series. The novel follows the main character Bink in his quest to find magic and ultimately himself along the way. At the surface, the story is simply an entertaining tale of Bink traveling through the world of Xanth on a quest to find his calling in life. Looking deeper, however, we find that Bink is a character much like you and me, a young person searching for acceptance and growing into the person we were driven to become. This is a lesson useful and relevant to any young person growing up around the world. It delivers life lessons in a unique, distinct way apart from all other genres. A passage that illustrates the novel's purpose and Bink's character can be found in chapter four, when Iris elaborates her feelings to Bink: "Most magic talents aren't worthwhile anyway. What use is it to make a pink spot appear on a wall? It may be magic, but it doesn't accomplish anything. You, with your strength and intelligence, have more to offer than the great majority of citizens" (Anthony 83). This statement by Iris illuminates Bink's moral character and foreshadows that in order for Bink to find his purpose in life he must first believe in himself and find out who he really is.
I can relate to Bink's character on many levels, which is why I felt so drawn in to Anthony's story. Believing in yourself is often difficult when confronted by life's curveballs. Whether it's tackling family misfortunes, the stress of college and upper level education, or a job that just appears too difficult, something circumstances like these prevent me from believing in myself. These factors can cloud the mind, making any situation that much harder. What I got from this passage is that not everything is how it seems; having four degrees hanging from a wall or making six figures a year doesn’t make you successful, it's all about morality and a willingness to succeed.
Growing up, we all encounter obstacles on our path to adulthood and success. The key to life from my experience is happiness. It can be assumed that feeling estranged from the world you live in and the people who surround you is not a feeling of joy or enlightenment. As readers, we must ask ourselves, is Bink's story a matter of finding his power? Or finding the roots of his repressed happiness? The answer is both. Without Bink's desire to find his magical powers, there would be no journey, no encounter with Chameleon, and ultimately no conclusion. But it is our duty as an audience to see through Bink's superficial desires to find Anthony's themes on growing up and finding happiness. I often relate to this question and Bink's quest by asking myself, "Does everything happen for a reason?" and citing the balance between "risk & reward." Towards the end of the novel, Bink comes to realize that changing who he is for the sake of Xanth is not his purpose in life. He soon realizes it is his duty to change Xanth's perspective and accept everyone who calls Xanth their home, no matter their powers or place in society. Anthony writes, "But Bink's real quest, at the end, had been to preserve Chameleon and Trent and himself as they were, and to make Xanth accept them that way" (344). This passage illuminates the novel's purpose and sends a life-altering message to readers that could not be attained be reading magazines or scholarly journals.
In my short 21 years of life, I have come to the conclusion that the key to happiness is to remain true to yourself, your loved ones, and ultimately live life by your own set of rules and morals. This novel and Bink's character embody this philosophy, and a lot can be taken away from Anthony's fantasy saga. Before reading this work, I had discovered and read many "coming-of-age" tales. Some movies that had a positive effect on my mentality regarding growing into myself are Fight Club, Stand By Me, and The Goonies. Literature-wise, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton was a novel that had an immediate effect on the lens through which I viewed adolescence, while O'Connor's Everything That Rises Must Converge is a collection of short stories that also changed my perspective the last few years. While these movies and fiction works moved me as a teen, I have constantly been looking for new ways to hear these types of stories. Piers Anthony was able to speak to me through his character Bink, and despite the message stressing the importance of values and morals, Anthony's fantasy world was a refreshing, mind-stimulating take on a classic theme of pop culture. I look forward to reading more from Anthony, and carrying on through the Xanth series.
Work Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon. New York: Del Rey, 1987. Print.
Showing posts with label A Spell for Chameleon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Spell for Chameleon. Show all posts
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Writing about Reality Is Boring
Eric Ellison explains:
The reasons fantasy fiction is read depend upon the individual holding the book. The same can be said about the reasons writers choose the genre; it varies upon whose fingers are at the ready to create a story. While we can attribute the more prominent reason of pure enjoyment for readers to pick up that copy of The Lord of the Rings, we can truly ponder why the author would choose to write in this younger vein of literature. The following are some possibilities of why they made the choice they did, and why you may want to try your hand at it as well.
Maybe it's the simple enjoyment of writing fantasy fiction, as is very noticeable in A Spell for Chameleon, by Piers Anthony. This story is about a character searching for his magical talent in a world of pure magic, which can allow for all sorts of fun to be had if approached from the right mind set. Anthony was obviously looking to have some fun and hopefully make people laugh when he started writing about the world of Xanth. Throughout the story he creates all kinds of puns, some bad and some good, which become widely available for him in this world. We've all heard that phrase "to sow your wild oats," but Anthony takes it and creates it in a literal sense for the main character of the book, Bink. The character, at one point in his many moments of reflection, thinks back to when he was 15 and decided to "sow wild oats" in his backyard. Well, as it turns out, in the world of Xanth this is actually a method of creating an oat nymph that can handle a young man's hormonal impulses. In addition to this we read about vicious "nickelpedes," food supplying "breadloaf trees," and "pill bushes" that can help an injured traveler. To flex the muscles of imagination this approach of unbridled creativity--where the "logical" constrictions of our world become unhinged--may be an excellent start for any writer.
On the other hand, some authors go with writing fantasy fiction for the opportunity to just create a whole new, breathing world, such as is the case for J.R.R. Tolkien and his The Lord of the Rings trilogy. The nice thing about a place that is being spawned from the writer's imagination--opposed to non-fiction or other stories based solely within the reality we know--the author has free rein, at least to the extent that the events which occur do so within reason of the world within which they exist. Now, we may think, "But Anthony wrote some ridiculous elements in his stories that hardly seem reasonable"; however, Anthony was still consistent in his ridiculousness in creating a world that didn't contradict itself. While many fantasy fiction writers do create new worlds for their minds to play in, Tolkien was a true master in that he also ended up creating full histories about the world of Middle Earth. What becomes appealing to the reader is that for some this creates an opportunity to explore and/or escape from their own daily lives, among other personal reasons. This approach to writing may seem like a huge task, but it's a great way to build a great habit. The more you create in your mind about the history of a place or character in your story the more they will appear to be alive to your audience. With that backup knowledge about the who's and the what's, as an author, you’ll be more intuitive about interactions that involve those characters and places.
Over the years multiple writers have used literature to make socio/political commentary. With fantasy fiction, an author can reach audiences that might not readily approach the issues they wish to convey if they were presented in another form. One such case is the book by Anne McCaffrey, Dragonsong. This book takes place on a planet that came to be inhabited countless years ago by ancestors that had the technology to accomplish interplanetary travel--technology which has, at this point, been long gone. McCaffrey tells the story of a young woman named Menolly on the planet Pern. In this world there are individuals that are called Harpers, bard-like instructors that hand down collective knowledge to each hold's (like towns) citizens--instructions like history, or how to farm or fish, and so on. Menolly is one such individual who is more than capable of accomplishing this task for the hold that she lives in. The problem is that within her hold this position has always been traditionally held by men. So as a result she gets mistreated in numerous ways to keep her from bringing "shame" to her father, the leader of the community, through breaking this tradition. The way the story is told has the effect of being a feminist statement in support of that movement in the '70s when Dragonsong was written. Instead of writing direct arguments about the inequality woman faced, McCaffrey took a side approach to bring awareness to all kinds of individuals, including younger readers. Today it would seem there are even more issues that need to be contended with, but they might not always get the attention from the masses they deserve. Maybe there is an issue you feel passionate about that isn't quite as recognized as you would wish; why not try using fantasy fiction as a means of clueing in more people about the problem?
Then there are books that take comedy, commentary, and creative freedom and roll them all up together. Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, aims to be creatively hilarious, which it accomplishes perfectly, and ends up having some interesting things to say about us humans that can momentarily sober up the comedy--mind you, only momentarily. This story is about The Armageddon, the forces of heaven and hell, a devil and an angel joining forces to stop it, and a host of other characters. When the antichrist is supposed to be an 11-year-old child with the power to recreate the world in his image, the world would never expect what he dreams up. Everything from Tibetans digging tunnels through the earth and popping up in people's yards to space aliens that come to deliver "a message of universal peace and cosmic harmony an' suchlike" (205) but not knowing why they were told to bring the message makes for a very entertaining read. The commentaries on humanity and the world, aside from the major one that pokes fun at religious Armageddon, are slipped in almost without notice. After aliens give a "message" to a confused character they then act like intergalactic police and say to the character, after taking a CO2 reading that seems to be too high, "you do know you could find yourself charged with being a dominant species while under the influence of impulse-driven consumerism, don't you?" (205); in this moment some readers might find themselves stopping their laughter and seriously pondering the way we live our lives. There are many spots in the book that have this effect, but it's only a matter of lines before you again find yourself laughing out loud.
For each of these books and authors, the reasons I speculate on why they wrote those stories are only one in what I'm sure were a dozen reasons they chose fantasy fiction as the genre to express their creativity. Whatever their reasons, they obviously enjoyed it. So if you're thinking of taking up the pen, why not give your imagination a good exercise and spin a tale through the lens of fantasy fiction?
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon: The First Xanth Novel. New York: Ballantine, 1977. Print.
Gaiman, Neil and Pratchett, Terry. Good Omens. New York: HarperTorch, 1990. Print.
McCaffrey, Anne. Dragonsong. New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 2003. Print.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Hobbit, Or, There and Back Again. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1966. Print.
The reasons fantasy fiction is read depend upon the individual holding the book. The same can be said about the reasons writers choose the genre; it varies upon whose fingers are at the ready to create a story. While we can attribute the more prominent reason of pure enjoyment for readers to pick up that copy of The Lord of the Rings, we can truly ponder why the author would choose to write in this younger vein of literature. The following are some possibilities of why they made the choice they did, and why you may want to try your hand at it as well.
Maybe it's the simple enjoyment of writing fantasy fiction, as is very noticeable in A Spell for Chameleon, by Piers Anthony. This story is about a character searching for his magical talent in a world of pure magic, which can allow for all sorts of fun to be had if approached from the right mind set. Anthony was obviously looking to have some fun and hopefully make people laugh when he started writing about the world of Xanth. Throughout the story he creates all kinds of puns, some bad and some good, which become widely available for him in this world. We've all heard that phrase "to sow your wild oats," but Anthony takes it and creates it in a literal sense for the main character of the book, Bink. The character, at one point in his many moments of reflection, thinks back to when he was 15 and decided to "sow wild oats" in his backyard. Well, as it turns out, in the world of Xanth this is actually a method of creating an oat nymph that can handle a young man's hormonal impulses. In addition to this we read about vicious "nickelpedes," food supplying "breadloaf trees," and "pill bushes" that can help an injured traveler. To flex the muscles of imagination this approach of unbridled creativity--where the "logical" constrictions of our world become unhinged--may be an excellent start for any writer.
On the other hand, some authors go with writing fantasy fiction for the opportunity to just create a whole new, breathing world, such as is the case for J.R.R. Tolkien and his The Lord of the Rings trilogy. The nice thing about a place that is being spawned from the writer's imagination--opposed to non-fiction or other stories based solely within the reality we know--the author has free rein, at least to the extent that the events which occur do so within reason of the world within which they exist. Now, we may think, "But Anthony wrote some ridiculous elements in his stories that hardly seem reasonable"; however, Anthony was still consistent in his ridiculousness in creating a world that didn't contradict itself. While many fantasy fiction writers do create new worlds for their minds to play in, Tolkien was a true master in that he also ended up creating full histories about the world of Middle Earth. What becomes appealing to the reader is that for some this creates an opportunity to explore and/or escape from their own daily lives, among other personal reasons. This approach to writing may seem like a huge task, but it's a great way to build a great habit. The more you create in your mind about the history of a place or character in your story the more they will appear to be alive to your audience. With that backup knowledge about the who's and the what's, as an author, you’ll be more intuitive about interactions that involve those characters and places.
Over the years multiple writers have used literature to make socio/political commentary. With fantasy fiction, an author can reach audiences that might not readily approach the issues they wish to convey if they were presented in another form. One such case is the book by Anne McCaffrey, Dragonsong. This book takes place on a planet that came to be inhabited countless years ago by ancestors that had the technology to accomplish interplanetary travel--technology which has, at this point, been long gone. McCaffrey tells the story of a young woman named Menolly on the planet Pern. In this world there are individuals that are called Harpers, bard-like instructors that hand down collective knowledge to each hold's (like towns) citizens--instructions like history, or how to farm or fish, and so on. Menolly is one such individual who is more than capable of accomplishing this task for the hold that she lives in. The problem is that within her hold this position has always been traditionally held by men. So as a result she gets mistreated in numerous ways to keep her from bringing "shame" to her father, the leader of the community, through breaking this tradition. The way the story is told has the effect of being a feminist statement in support of that movement in the '70s when Dragonsong was written. Instead of writing direct arguments about the inequality woman faced, McCaffrey took a side approach to bring awareness to all kinds of individuals, including younger readers. Today it would seem there are even more issues that need to be contended with, but they might not always get the attention from the masses they deserve. Maybe there is an issue you feel passionate about that isn't quite as recognized as you would wish; why not try using fantasy fiction as a means of clueing in more people about the problem?
Then there are books that take comedy, commentary, and creative freedom and roll them all up together. Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, aims to be creatively hilarious, which it accomplishes perfectly, and ends up having some interesting things to say about us humans that can momentarily sober up the comedy--mind you, only momentarily. This story is about The Armageddon, the forces of heaven and hell, a devil and an angel joining forces to stop it, and a host of other characters. When the antichrist is supposed to be an 11-year-old child with the power to recreate the world in his image, the world would never expect what he dreams up. Everything from Tibetans digging tunnels through the earth and popping up in people's yards to space aliens that come to deliver "a message of universal peace and cosmic harmony an' suchlike" (205) but not knowing why they were told to bring the message makes for a very entertaining read. The commentaries on humanity and the world, aside from the major one that pokes fun at religious Armageddon, are slipped in almost without notice. After aliens give a "message" to a confused character they then act like intergalactic police and say to the character, after taking a CO2 reading that seems to be too high, "you do know you could find yourself charged with being a dominant species while under the influence of impulse-driven consumerism, don't you?" (205); in this moment some readers might find themselves stopping their laughter and seriously pondering the way we live our lives. There are many spots in the book that have this effect, but it's only a matter of lines before you again find yourself laughing out loud.
For each of these books and authors, the reasons I speculate on why they wrote those stories are only one in what I'm sure were a dozen reasons they chose fantasy fiction as the genre to express their creativity. Whatever their reasons, they obviously enjoyed it. So if you're thinking of taking up the pen, why not give your imagination a good exercise and spin a tale through the lens of fantasy fiction?
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon: The First Xanth Novel. New York: Ballantine, 1977. Print.
Gaiman, Neil and Pratchett, Terry. Good Omens. New York: HarperTorch, 1990. Print.
McCaffrey, Anne. Dragonsong. New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 2003. Print.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Hobbit, Or, There and Back Again. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1966. Print.
Monday, November 29, 2010
A Different Perspective
Eli explains:
Why do authors choose to write in fantasy, anyways? Why pick a genre that is generally shrugged off by literature professors as they turn their noses to the canon? Talented writers are spending years upon years and sometimes their whole lives wrapped up in imaginary worlds. Are they wasting their time? An even more important question: are we wasting our time when we read fantasy? We could be flipping pages in War and Peace instead, or pondering Wordsworth on a picnic bench by an Adirondack lake, sniffing in the sweet fall air as geese fly in their ardent “V” overhead (no doubt dropping some fragrant gifts from the sky) and honk farewell as they disappear into a hazy dusk. Excuse me, I digress. Why would a fantasy writer waste their time twiddling their thumbs in imaginary worlds when they could have that beautiful scene by the lake? (Maybe because when he was reading poetry by the lake, he realized that there were very intricate carvings in the varnished wood. As he traced these etchings with his forefinger, a faint light seemed to appear deep inside each foreign character. The sound of upset lake water pricked his ears and when he looked up a very large boat was emerging from under the water, with the same carvings all along the stern. A centaur beckoned to him.) We can't precisely address this question without having an interview with the writer himself or herself but can we, and should we, try to pry into the author's choice to write in fantasy? It is hard enough to infer the intention of a single work and much more confusing to find an intent in genre choice. Yet, it is still an interesting endeavor to wonder about the ideas and convictions that give inspiration to fantasy writers. Contemplating this will supply us with insight as readers in the world of fantasy fiction.
Let's take the work of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Good Omens is no run-of-the-mill fantasy book by any means. Located in our modern world, we have angels and demons, men and witches, the natural and the supernatural all stuck in the apocalypse. They supply us with all the humor and entertainment we could ever want in this work of genius. Yet, for some reason these authors chose to deliver their impeccable style in fantasy when they could have easily written in another (more respected) genre. They chose this perspective with a specific intention. When working in fantasy, an author can use non-human characters and unrealistic worlds to say certain things about humanity, society, and our current condition. An angel and a demon can casually observe humanity like no human could. For instance Crowley (the demon) thinks, "It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people" (26). This message runs throughout the book, the erasing of the line between good and evil. There is something quite shocking about these ideas coming from angels and demons who are supposed to define the two different sides of the spectrum. One would expect a modern-day contemporary thinker to say something about the disappearance of good and evil. But a demon destroying these boundaries is preposterous, and effective. Crowley asks Aziraphale, "Well, haven't you ever wondered about it all? You know--your people and my people, Heaven and Hell, good and evil, all that sort of thing? I mean, why?" (360). Rules are broken and angels and demons wonder about the same things that humans do. Pratchett and Gaiman demonstrate the same "ineffable" feelings that humans experience from another view.
Another composer of fantasy, Piers Anthony, has a much different take on the genre. He has created the world of Xanth, with its own type of magic and plenty of flora and fauna to accompany it. In this world, Anthony tells us many things about humanity. The character Bink is a philosophizing exile, who in the end discovers some things about himself and other people. His whole journey is filled with him gaining new knowledge, information that he is not necessarily supposed to have. He is on a quest that leads him to truth. Nonetheless, Anthony makes Bink a very stubborn and dogmatic character. The reader can see the truth before Bink does--his stubbornness is often cumbersome. Isn't this how we view ourselves after coming to a sudden realization and point of change? Bink may represent humans in general with his slow-changing views of how the world works. It takes him so long to see the truth about Trent because he was taught that Trent is evil. Is this much different than our own mundanian human nature? We hold onto our own comfortable views of the world and the older we get the less willing we are to change. Our society is full of Bink-like people. It is easy to see this reality of human dogmatism (and other philosophies) that Anthony presents through his fantastical world. We may look on the ignorance of the Xanthians with harsh judgement. We should turn this judgement on ourselves. Anthony is saying these things in a different approach; through fantasy he delivers his message with greater ease.
The intent of fantasy writers is very similar to the intent of writers in any genre. Literature gives us insight into life and fantasy fiction is not left out of this statement. Writers of this genre may have chosen it because of their fascination with the mystical or they may have been tired with reality that they faced day to day. But fantasy fiction should not be viewed as an escape from our everyday life. We should not just want to escape into alternate realities that entertain us and delay our problems for a while. I do not think that is the reason authors choose fantasy. Their statements on the human condition come naturally and powerfully through this genre and take on a new and distinct perspective. These stories carry the essential component of good art (that ever escaping, shifting, always there, always departing human condition) and can hold their own weight against other forms of literature. Fantasy fiction is an important aspect to lives of many people and that will not change. This brings us to the conclusion...long live fantasy!
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon. New York: Del Rey, 1977.
Gaiman, Neil, and Terry Pratchett. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. New York: Harper, 2007
Why do authors choose to write in fantasy, anyways? Why pick a genre that is generally shrugged off by literature professors as they turn their noses to the canon? Talented writers are spending years upon years and sometimes their whole lives wrapped up in imaginary worlds. Are they wasting their time? An even more important question: are we wasting our time when we read fantasy? We could be flipping pages in War and Peace instead, or pondering Wordsworth on a picnic bench by an Adirondack lake, sniffing in the sweet fall air as geese fly in their ardent “V” overhead (no doubt dropping some fragrant gifts from the sky) and honk farewell as they disappear into a hazy dusk. Excuse me, I digress. Why would a fantasy writer waste their time twiddling their thumbs in imaginary worlds when they could have that beautiful scene by the lake? (Maybe because when he was reading poetry by the lake, he realized that there were very intricate carvings in the varnished wood. As he traced these etchings with his forefinger, a faint light seemed to appear deep inside each foreign character. The sound of upset lake water pricked his ears and when he looked up a very large boat was emerging from under the water, with the same carvings all along the stern. A centaur beckoned to him.) We can't precisely address this question without having an interview with the writer himself or herself but can we, and should we, try to pry into the author's choice to write in fantasy? It is hard enough to infer the intention of a single work and much more confusing to find an intent in genre choice. Yet, it is still an interesting endeavor to wonder about the ideas and convictions that give inspiration to fantasy writers. Contemplating this will supply us with insight as readers in the world of fantasy fiction.
Let's take the work of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Good Omens is no run-of-the-mill fantasy book by any means. Located in our modern world, we have angels and demons, men and witches, the natural and the supernatural all stuck in the apocalypse. They supply us with all the humor and entertainment we could ever want in this work of genius. Yet, for some reason these authors chose to deliver their impeccable style in fantasy when they could have easily written in another (more respected) genre. They chose this perspective with a specific intention. When working in fantasy, an author can use non-human characters and unrealistic worlds to say certain things about humanity, society, and our current condition. An angel and a demon can casually observe humanity like no human could. For instance Crowley (the demon) thinks, "It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people" (26). This message runs throughout the book, the erasing of the line between good and evil. There is something quite shocking about these ideas coming from angels and demons who are supposed to define the two different sides of the spectrum. One would expect a modern-day contemporary thinker to say something about the disappearance of good and evil. But a demon destroying these boundaries is preposterous, and effective. Crowley asks Aziraphale, "Well, haven't you ever wondered about it all? You know--your people and my people, Heaven and Hell, good and evil, all that sort of thing? I mean, why?" (360). Rules are broken and angels and demons wonder about the same things that humans do. Pratchett and Gaiman demonstrate the same "ineffable" feelings that humans experience from another view.
Another composer of fantasy, Piers Anthony, has a much different take on the genre. He has created the world of Xanth, with its own type of magic and plenty of flora and fauna to accompany it. In this world, Anthony tells us many things about humanity. The character Bink is a philosophizing exile, who in the end discovers some things about himself and other people. His whole journey is filled with him gaining new knowledge, information that he is not necessarily supposed to have. He is on a quest that leads him to truth. Nonetheless, Anthony makes Bink a very stubborn and dogmatic character. The reader can see the truth before Bink does--his stubbornness is often cumbersome. Isn't this how we view ourselves after coming to a sudden realization and point of change? Bink may represent humans in general with his slow-changing views of how the world works. It takes him so long to see the truth about Trent because he was taught that Trent is evil. Is this much different than our own mundanian human nature? We hold onto our own comfortable views of the world and the older we get the less willing we are to change. Our society is full of Bink-like people. It is easy to see this reality of human dogmatism (and other philosophies) that Anthony presents through his fantastical world. We may look on the ignorance of the Xanthians with harsh judgement. We should turn this judgement on ourselves. Anthony is saying these things in a different approach; through fantasy he delivers his message with greater ease.
The intent of fantasy writers is very similar to the intent of writers in any genre. Literature gives us insight into life and fantasy fiction is not left out of this statement. Writers of this genre may have chosen it because of their fascination with the mystical or they may have been tired with reality that they faced day to day. But fantasy fiction should not be viewed as an escape from our everyday life. We should not just want to escape into alternate realities that entertain us and delay our problems for a while. I do not think that is the reason authors choose fantasy. Their statements on the human condition come naturally and powerfully through this genre and take on a new and distinct perspective. These stories carry the essential component of good art (that ever escaping, shifting, always there, always departing human condition) and can hold their own weight against other forms of literature. Fantasy fiction is an important aspect to lives of many people and that will not change. This brings us to the conclusion...long live fantasy!
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon. New York: Del Rey, 1977.
Gaiman, Neil, and Terry Pratchett. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. New York: Harper, 2007
Monday, November 8, 2010
Writing Styles Do Not Define Fantasy Fiction
Derek Herzog argues:
There seems to be a stigma associated with the fantasy genre which makes people hesitant to pick up a book labeled fantasy. A big part of this has to do with what first comes to someone's head when they think of fantasy. For many, the term fantasy brings to mind a long, tedious work of escapism which is weird and unapproachable. They might think this because they associate fantasy with a particular style of writing, one that is slow, straight-forward, and not innovative. To think like that though is a misconception, and it could be what has given fantasy a bad rap for so long.
The truth is, fantasy is not limited to one particular style of writing; if this was the case, it really would have no hope. I've read fantasy works from six different authors recently, and one of the coolest things I've learned is how varied fantasy authors are in their approaches to their work. Fantasy is by no means limited to one style of writing, and coming to this realization not only removes the stigma associated with the genre but it reveals the potential for how many new and innovative things could be done with it, as well.
To begin my recent fantasy escapade, I started with two authors whose books could be considered the roots of fantasy: J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, and C.S. Lewis's The Magician's Nephew. They both tell their stories as if they were Grandpas dictating an old tale to their Grandsons; this is why I have deemed this style the "Old Man Narrative." Consider how The Magician's Nephew begins: "This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child" (Lewis 1). The whole book goes along with this sort of feel. While I'm reading it, I actually even read in my head in the voice of an old Grandpa. The Hobbit is told in a similar way. Consider this line, for example: "The Mother of our particular hobbit--what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us" (Tolkien 12). Both of these novels are written in these distinctive narrative styles, which are quite different from other authors in our class. Could you imagine if every fantasy novel were written like this? Sure, both books are good reads, but after being exposed to a style for too long it quickly goes stale. The "Old Man Narrative" helped pave the way for future fantasy fiction, but fortunately other authors moved beyond this--or regressed from it.
Speaking of regressed, this brings me to the next two authors: Piers Anthony and Anne McCaffrey. Both authors have a writing style which is fairly simplistic. The stories also move along quite slowly. I think the novels by these two would be better received by younger readers, not only because of their coming-of-age themes, but also because of their slow and steady writing styles which probably make the books easier to understand. In both books, a lot of time is spent talking over what is going on in the protagonist's head. As an older reader, this can seem tedious and unnecessary, but to someone who is younger, the repetition might really help them understand what's going on. It is unfair of me to label these two as lesser authors, but their writing styles definitely do not appeal to me that much. Whether I enjoy it or not, though, these authors possess a distinctive writing style which adds validity to the notion that it is not what solely characterizes the fantasy genre.
Sheri Tepper makes up another category of writing styles. Unlike many other fantasy authors, she writes her prose in a more creative, even poetic way. She really gets inside of her protagonist's mind, and this makes her book, The True Game, seem more realistic, and it also allows the reader to become more immersed in the story. Take, for example, just a random line from the text: "How so many could find power to exist, she did not say. We did not ask. It was only a tall tale, we thought. Hum of bees, quiet sough of wind. Then, suddenly, as we climbed a high ridge of stone, a cold gust from above, chill as winter, without warning" (Tepper 39). She presents the information to the reader in a way which emulates the flashes of thought and sensory information going through Peter's mind; this technique is effective, highly creative, and unique. I would argue that Tepper's style proves the great potential for evolution within the genre.
The last fantasy novel I read was Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's Good Omens, which can definitely be set apart from other authors. Being an apocalyptic satirical novel which aims to make the reader laugh and think, a writing style which is similar to any of the ones discussed above would not suffice. Rather, Pratchett and Gaiman tell their story in short, inter-weaving fragments which keep it fast-paced and upbeat. The prose is also casual, witty, conversational, and laid-back. Take a look at this line from the first page: "By the same token the earth itself is generally supposed to be about four and a half thousand million years old.... These dates are incorrect" (Pratchett & Gaiman 13). It is not serious, or boring, or enormously creative, or condescending--it is just natural. By natural I mean the pacing just feels pretty leisurely, if you know what I mean. The effect this style has on the reader makes it one of the most enjoyable books I've ever read, and I don't just mean fantasy fiction. This style is a departure from the others we've seen, and not only proves that fantasy is not defined by a style of writing, but it also shows just how entertaining fantasy can be.
It will be the best thing to happen for the fantasy genre when it loses the stereotype attached to it that all fantasy books are boring and stale. There are so many cool and creative things that have been done with it. Look at Sheri Tepper: she did something that was completely different and innovative, which arguably rivals writers in other, more acclaimed genres, and yet she is relatively unknown because she chose to pour her efforts into a stigmatized genre. This must stop. Fantasy has so much potential but if it continues to be disregarded because of a false definition of it then it will never go anywhere.
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon. New York/Toronto: Random House, 1977. Print.
Gaiman, Neil, and Terry Pratchett. Good Omens. New York: HarperCollins, 1990. Print.
Lewis, C.S. The Magician's Nephew. New York: HarperCollins, 1955. Print.
McCaffrey, Anne. Dragonsong. New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 1976. Print.
Tepper, Sheri S. The True Game. New York: Penguin Group, 1996. Print.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Hobbit or There and Back Again. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Print.
There seems to be a stigma associated with the fantasy genre which makes people hesitant to pick up a book labeled fantasy. A big part of this has to do with what first comes to someone's head when they think of fantasy. For many, the term fantasy brings to mind a long, tedious work of escapism which is weird and unapproachable. They might think this because they associate fantasy with a particular style of writing, one that is slow, straight-forward, and not innovative. To think like that though is a misconception, and it could be what has given fantasy a bad rap for so long.
The truth is, fantasy is not limited to one particular style of writing; if this was the case, it really would have no hope. I've read fantasy works from six different authors recently, and one of the coolest things I've learned is how varied fantasy authors are in their approaches to their work. Fantasy is by no means limited to one style of writing, and coming to this realization not only removes the stigma associated with the genre but it reveals the potential for how many new and innovative things could be done with it, as well.
To begin my recent fantasy escapade, I started with two authors whose books could be considered the roots of fantasy: J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, and C.S. Lewis's The Magician's Nephew. They both tell their stories as if they were Grandpas dictating an old tale to their Grandsons; this is why I have deemed this style the "Old Man Narrative." Consider how The Magician's Nephew begins: "This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child" (Lewis 1). The whole book goes along with this sort of feel. While I'm reading it, I actually even read in my head in the voice of an old Grandpa. The Hobbit is told in a similar way. Consider this line, for example: "The Mother of our particular hobbit--what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us" (Tolkien 12). Both of these novels are written in these distinctive narrative styles, which are quite different from other authors in our class. Could you imagine if every fantasy novel were written like this? Sure, both books are good reads, but after being exposed to a style for too long it quickly goes stale. The "Old Man Narrative" helped pave the way for future fantasy fiction, but fortunately other authors moved beyond this--or regressed from it.
Speaking of regressed, this brings me to the next two authors: Piers Anthony and Anne McCaffrey. Both authors have a writing style which is fairly simplistic. The stories also move along quite slowly. I think the novels by these two would be better received by younger readers, not only because of their coming-of-age themes, but also because of their slow and steady writing styles which probably make the books easier to understand. In both books, a lot of time is spent talking over what is going on in the protagonist's head. As an older reader, this can seem tedious and unnecessary, but to someone who is younger, the repetition might really help them understand what's going on. It is unfair of me to label these two as lesser authors, but their writing styles definitely do not appeal to me that much. Whether I enjoy it or not, though, these authors possess a distinctive writing style which adds validity to the notion that it is not what solely characterizes the fantasy genre.
Sheri Tepper makes up another category of writing styles. Unlike many other fantasy authors, she writes her prose in a more creative, even poetic way. She really gets inside of her protagonist's mind, and this makes her book, The True Game, seem more realistic, and it also allows the reader to become more immersed in the story. Take, for example, just a random line from the text: "How so many could find power to exist, she did not say. We did not ask. It was only a tall tale, we thought. Hum of bees, quiet sough of wind. Then, suddenly, as we climbed a high ridge of stone, a cold gust from above, chill as winter, without warning" (Tepper 39). She presents the information to the reader in a way which emulates the flashes of thought and sensory information going through Peter's mind; this technique is effective, highly creative, and unique. I would argue that Tepper's style proves the great potential for evolution within the genre.
The last fantasy novel I read was Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's Good Omens, which can definitely be set apart from other authors. Being an apocalyptic satirical novel which aims to make the reader laugh and think, a writing style which is similar to any of the ones discussed above would not suffice. Rather, Pratchett and Gaiman tell their story in short, inter-weaving fragments which keep it fast-paced and upbeat. The prose is also casual, witty, conversational, and laid-back. Take a look at this line from the first page: "By the same token the earth itself is generally supposed to be about four and a half thousand million years old.... These dates are incorrect" (Pratchett & Gaiman 13). It is not serious, or boring, or enormously creative, or condescending--it is just natural. By natural I mean the pacing just feels pretty leisurely, if you know what I mean. The effect this style has on the reader makes it one of the most enjoyable books I've ever read, and I don't just mean fantasy fiction. This style is a departure from the others we've seen, and not only proves that fantasy is not defined by a style of writing, but it also shows just how entertaining fantasy can be.
It will be the best thing to happen for the fantasy genre when it loses the stereotype attached to it that all fantasy books are boring and stale. There are so many cool and creative things that have been done with it. Look at Sheri Tepper: she did something that was completely different and innovative, which arguably rivals writers in other, more acclaimed genres, and yet she is relatively unknown because she chose to pour her efforts into a stigmatized genre. This must stop. Fantasy has so much potential but if it continues to be disregarded because of a false definition of it then it will never go anywhere.
Works Cited
Anthony, Piers. A Spell for Chameleon. New York/Toronto: Random House, 1977. Print.
Gaiman, Neil, and Terry Pratchett. Good Omens. New York: HarperCollins, 1990. Print.
Lewis, C.S. The Magician's Nephew. New York: HarperCollins, 1955. Print.
McCaffrey, Anne. Dragonsong. New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 1976. Print.
Tepper, Sheri S. The True Game. New York: Penguin Group, 1996. Print.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Hobbit or There and Back Again. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Print.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
So... You Want to be a World-Builder?
Are you tired of this dismal, mundane world? Are you sick of all the limitations in this universe, like gravity and social security tax? Don’t you just wish there was a place where some rules didn’t apply at all, or where crazy things like magic can put a damper on some of those party-poopers? Then let me introduce you to an old friend of mine, the Fantasy genre. This kind of literature is infamous for its geeky, absorbing reputation, but really what I advertise to you is a chance to build your own world and escape into the boundless plane of imagination.
Now as awesome and limitless as world-building can be, when you’re a fantasy writer, there’s a right way and wrong way to do it. To be more technical, it should be said that there are effective and ineffective ways of building a whole universe from scratch. Your tools will include plot, narration, illustration, and dialogue. Your world is a setting, which is in literary terms the place or time that a story occurs. The story itself, which uses these tools, serves as the capsule for your environment, a place where the action happens and the world is made clearly separate from the real world (or perhaps other authors' worlds!). The capsule's something you NEVER want to break, or else you'll go insane discerning reality from fiction and all that messy psychological junk.
The first tool is plot. The plot of the story, which remember is the device holding your world, by definition is the sequence of events in a story pieced together into a unified work. Thus what I mean is that anything or everything that happens in your story must convey the functions and rules of your world. For example, let's say in this new world of yours, you want there to be a war, either a massive bloodbath or some border tensions. Using plot as your tool, this is how you ought to use plot to weave your world together:
Great troops of horse cavalry and unicorn cavalry followed the infantrymen. Krasta curled her lip to see unicorns made as ugly as horses. And then she curled her lip again, for a squadron of behemoths followed the unicorns (Turtledove 19).
The example above is from the book Into the Darkness by Harry Turtledove. An action is taking place in the passage, which could be considered an event, considering multiple events woven together coherently create a plot. Through describing this action, this author has built several elements into his world of Derlarvai: (1) a war or preparation for a war, (2) horses, which denotes that there is a commonality to this world, making it close to ours, (3) that unicorns exist, (4) that behemoths exist, which are a personal creation of the author himself (5) these creatures are all used for military power, and (6) to many sentient beings (characters) in this universe, these creatures have been made or are repulsive in a way.
Narration is the simplest tool in world-building, so much so that the minute you see the following example, you'll realize that you've used narration many times in the past. That is because narration is just plainly describing the facts, or presenting visual details, both of which are through the narrator's voice. The following passage is from The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis:
He was standing by the edge of a small pool – not more than ten feet from side to side – in a wood. The trees grew close together and were so leafy that he could get no glimpse of the sky. All the light was green light that came through the leaves: but there must have been a very strong sun overhead, for this green daylight was bright and warm. It was the quietest word you could possibly imagine. There were no birds, no insects, no animals, and no wind. You could almost feel the trees growing... There were dozens of other [pools] – a pool every few yards as far as his eyes could reach. (Lewis 31-32).
Now you could argue that the narration and plot devices I've shown are practically the same thing. Consider, however, that an action could be described using dialogue instead, the same way playwrights would have characters say what they see when no props are available. But now why would we used dialogue to build a world? By far you will find that dialogue is the most prevalent tool for world-building among fantasy and science-fiction authors. Dialogue is the name for conversation between characters. Here is another passage from Into the Darkness where dialogue is being used to construct a world:
"I'm not glum about staying at peace," Fernao said. "I'm glum about the rest of the world going back to war. All the kingdoms of eastern Derlavai suffered as much as we did."
"And Unkerlant," Rogelio put in. "Don't forget Unkerlant."
"Unkerlant is a kingdom of eastern Derlavai... in a manner of speaking," Fernao said with a thin smile. The smile soon slipped. "Thanks to the Twinkings War, they hurt themselves worse than Algarve ever managed, and Algarve hurt them plenty." (Turtledove 31)
The quotation above was meant to inform the readers on the political situation of the author's world. Dialogue, on a side note, is especially useful for developing the politics of your world because people in our world tend to debate about politics and history. Characters can do the same, and through such debate also teach the reader about your world.
Here is another passage from A Spell for Chameleon, where the author again builds the history of his world Xanth through dialogue between two characters:
"... In the past century Xanth has been entirely free from invasion--but other threats have developed."
"Like the fireflies and the wiggles and Bad Magician Trent," Bink agreed.
"Trent was not a bad Magician," Cherie corrected him. "He was an Evil magician. There's a distinction--a crucial one."
"Um, yes. He was a good Evil Magician. Lucky they got rid of him before he took over Xanth."
"Certainly. But suppose another Evil Magician appears? Or the wiggles manifest again? Who will save Xanth this time?"
“I don't know,” Bink admitted (Anthony 37).
In this case, one character is informing another character, probably the next clearest and simplest tool used in world-building other than straight-up narration. Informative dialogue works smoothly because it functions in an exact manner as blander narration, except that the informing is focused inward between two characters and creating action at the same time. As a world-builder, you should know what would make dialogue preferable over narration in many ways. Dialogue adds life and brings opportunities to display traits of your characters who populate your world. However, don't grow dependent on the use of dialogue as a world-building tool. People don't commonly spit out all the common knowledge about their world despite the fact that the other character probably knows about it. Your readers will see through your scheme and realize it's just a corny technique of drilling information in their heads. As for much of the world-building dialogue in Into the Darkness, I find it rather unrealistic for commonfolk characters to be so well-rounded and knowledgeable of Derlarvai's history and politics. When choosing instances to share more about your world, choose reasonable characters to work through.
The reflections of a character can also be used to world-build. Bink of A Spell for Chameleon is an extremely inquisitive character. He looks at the strange world of Xanth the same way the reader will be looking at it, with a fresh pair of eyes. Bink questions his surroundings constantly and comes to his own conclusions. Your characters can do the same thing to inform the reader.
Lastly may perhaps be easier than narration, but more limited. Many fantasy writers choose to place a map of their world or a genealogy chart at the beginning of the book, and I suggest that you use this only to reinforce the other tools you use for world-building. Several examples follow, as always:
*Derlavai from Into the Darkness
On a final note, most of your world building should take place in the beginning, but here’s an idea: give your audience a reason to keep reading by adding a touch of mystery. Maybe something goes on in the world that you can logically answer, and yet maybe it’s possible to either leave it explained or make the characters aware that there doesn’t seem to be an answer for the particular function--not yet, that is. In the world of Xanth, for example, Piers Anthony keeps us in the dark about Mundania, except implying that it is a nonmagical land. This obscurity creates curiosity to keep your readers, well--reading--and to dive in deeper and deeper into your world. Also, please spare the reader for at least the first thirty pages; don't fire random jargon and information at them as if they know what you're talking about. That will not attract a market at all. Just look at the terrible work of King's Blood Four. People are stupid. That is something you must assume in world-building.
You might be interested in world-building to improve the reputation of this rather obscure genre of literature. It really is fun once you’ve got a great idea off the ground! World-building will bring to light many of the elements of fantasy that people are tired of, as well as the elements readers and authors crave to escape into. Forge yourself a land of impossibilities made commonly possible, an epic place that will draw out the greatest depths of inspiration for all the world to see.
WORKS CITED
Anthony, Piers. The Quest for Magic. New York: Ballantine, 2002. Print.
Lewis, C. S., and Pauline Baynes. The Magician's Nephew. New York: HarperTrophy, 2000. Print.
Turtledove, Harry. Into the Darkness. New York: Tor, 2000. Print.
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