World and Character Development within Fantasy Fiction

Gabrielle Fletcher considers what good fantasy fiction is:

I remember one Christmas when my younger brother and I were no older than thirteen...it was a time that some important video game was coming out. My brother had been dropping hints to my parents the whole year about it in hopes of it being somewhere under the tree that Christmas. Early Christmas morning he scanned all the colorful presents' shapes looking for one that resembled his game, and there it was wrapped in shining wrapping paper waiting for him. He patiently waited to open the gift with a huge grin of anticipation across his face, clutching the present as if it were the answer to the meaning of his life. When it was his turn he manically ripped it open and then instantly his grin froze in an awkward position. The promising package in his hand was not the game he had been hoping for but one of The Chronicles of Narnia novels. His face dropped in disappointment as he stared at the glossy paperback book. "God damn it, another fantasy book?" he muttered under his breath tossing the book in my direction. Being the bookworm of the family I quickly snatched the rejected present, stashing it with the books my parents had given me. Later that week I finished it and recommended that he read it. "It's probably just like Harry Potter and the rest of those magic books," he responded to me, "and nothing is better than Harry Potter."

The memory of that Christmas and his reaction to Fantasy has always stayed in the back of my mind. Most people I know trash Fantasy comparing it to movie versions of Fantasy books claiming they all must be the same. When reading these books in this genre it was hard not to see the same pattern of theme and storylines. Usually when one thinks of a Fantasy story it has the usual elements of supernatural, magic, romance, heroes overcoming evil, or characters discovering themselves as they are. With all these redundant plot lines, how can you determine what makes a 'good' fantasy fiction story?

It varies with each reader's preferences and what their own personal expectations are for the Fantasy book. While reading some selected works I was able to develop a kind of way to evaluate the novels by comparing the author's fictional world and character development. If the world was unclear to me or characters were weak, I wasn't as intrigued with the books. Without noticing it I was setting up my own personal expectation I usually look for in a good book. Some questions I would ask myself: "Has it been thought out well?" "Are there any connections to reality from this fictional land?" "Can I picture this world?" "Who is this character really?" and "What can I learn from these characters?"

Fictional world development is key to any good fiction story whether it's fantasy or trashy soft-core romance novels; you know the ones that you catch your mom or some older woman secretly engrossed by. A reader can't fully grasp or enjoy a Fantasy novel if the world they are trying to imagine or see isn't fully developed. An author could write about the most realistic characters, draw out epic storylines, or imagine the most brutal battles on paper--but if the world doesn't fit, how can all these elements come together?

In Sheri Tepper's novel King's Blood Four of the True Game trilogy, she successfully paints a new world to readers where characters/players battle in Lands of the True Game. Each player of True Game has a unique power such as healing, shape shifting, necromancy, or magic used for combat. The land is divided by Kings and rulers, each having their own set of special players to fight for them.

The actual landscape of the True Game is vast and spacious marked with canyons, waterways, and lush forests. Tepper uses poetic language to help describe the True Game world and settings. For example, while Peter, the protagonist of the story, finally reaches old Windlow's castle, Tepper shows her knowledge of the land's natural beauty describing just basic nature as "trees loomed like towers, vast as clouds" (61). The trail Peter walks on is "needle-strewn and redolent of resin, sharp and soft in the nostrils. Flowers bloomed in the shade, their secret faces turned down to the mosses" (61-62). Clearly she knows exactly how her world is portrayed, and successfully can draw the reader to her imaginative landscape within the book. While reading the novel you can feel like you're taking a personal tour with Peter as he discovers his own world.

Character development is another important element in the fantasy fiction genre. Usually you see the protagonist discovering their true identity throughout the novel, watching the character grow right before your own eyes. These heroes or villains are able to identify themselves and the world around them, which most of the time is something that all readers can relate to as we try to discover ourselves in life.

In Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's Good Omens the collaboration was ingenious, being able to successfully developed well-rounded characters. Although Good Omens is considered Fantasy fiction, the story is set up in reality during Armageddon. Two unlikely characters, Crowley, a demon from hell and Aziraphale, the archangel from the garden of Eden, band together to help save humanity. Their relationship, although originally based on a mutual agreement, becomes genuine in the story. As they learn to accept each other as they are, Crowley and Aziraphale also become more human-like and develop a taste for ordinary human life. Crowley, who was created without free will, develops it while on earth describing it as almost something contagious: "you couldn't hang around humans for very long without learning a thing or two" (Gaiman and Pratchett 39).

Pratchett and Gaiman use the angel and the demon not only to satirize but symbolize individual passion for salvation of the human race. Their internal transitions throughout the novel makes them more realistic and relatable than most of the non-fantastical characters in the book even though they are supernatural creatures.

It is up to the reader to decide what makes a good fantasy fiction; it's a matter of opinion and preference. Character and world development could prove a good story for some, and others not. Going back to what my brother said to me that one Christmas--"It's probably just like Harry Potter and the rest of those magic books and nothing is better than Harry Potter"--fantasy may seem tiresome and repetitive to some people. If they allow themselves, they could see that it is the opposite--and there are books better than Harry Potter.

Works Cited

Gaiman, Neil, and Terry Pratchett. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. Harper Torch, 2006. Print.

Tepper, Sheri. The True Game. Ace Trade, 1996. Print.

"Escaping" into Fantasy Fiction

Audrey Putney explains why she used the scare quotes in her title:

Many people accuse the genre of fantasy fiction of being a means of escape. Because the worlds in fantasy novels are generally meant to be fantastical and so unlike our own, it is assumed that the people who read them are escaping into a more pleasant world. This is not always the case. After all, how can it be deemed "escaping" if the world that is laid out for the reader in a fantasy novel is intended to be worse than our own? What are we escaping into then? In actuality, fantasy novels use their fantastical elements to present real-life problems in an obvious way.

One thing that can be said about fantasy novels is that everything within them seems to be bigger and better. In a manner of speaking, anyway. For example, fantasy novels always seem to present two sides to any battle: the side of good and the side of evil. While this is certainly a parallel to everyday life, fantasy presents the two sides as polar opposites. Those who are going into battle on the side of good are capable of only doing good. Those who are on the side of evil are undeniably evil and more so than anything you would be able to imagine in the real world. Usually there is also a major character that is struggling with which side to choose, allowing the audience to have someone to identify with. Using such extremes allows the author to present the problems the world is facing in a much clearer way. When problems are blown up in this way, it becomes difficult to ignore even the most subtle metaphors.

The worlds of fantasy fiction are flawed. Sometimes even fatally so. This is why it's so hard to actually dismiss the genre as "escapist." One of the novels that helps illustrate this point is King's Blood Four by Sheri S. Tepper. In the world of the Lands of the True Game, the characters' lives become at risk the moment they leave school. They spend their entire lives training to exist outside of the school and they are only ever given two choices: train or be useless. Additionally, prior to entering the Lands of the True Game, their roles are assigned to them. Essentially, any choices that they have are limited or taken away from them. In what way would a person want to "escape" into this world?

On top of this, Tepper uses her world to show her audience some of the more pressing social issues that we have to deal with on a daily basis. In the school, we see that Peter is looked down upon because he is a "foundling" rather than a "sentling." This allows Tepper to deal with the very real class system that's still around, especially in schools, to this day. However, that's not to say that this example has to deal exclusively with class. In fact, one could substitute any modern social problem that we have in this world and the example would still work just as well.

J.R.R. Tolkien, one of the foremost authors in the fantasy genre, defends the claim that it cannot be viewed merely as escapist in his essay "On Fairy-Stories." Within the essay, Tolkien advocates that fantasy should not be considered escapist necessarily as oftentimes the work provides the reader with the ability to see their world through the perspective of another. Something that seems quite commonplace to us can be considered strange in a fantasy world, causing the reader to reevaluate the world in which we live. Additionally, Tolkien points out that an individual does not need fantasy to escape since they always have their own mind. He likens his point to a prisoner. The prisoner is not made to only think of his surroundings. Finally, Tolkien includes the point that some readers may seek works of fantasy as a consolation. The happy endings the authors offer up are more pleasing than the events in the readers' lives.

Fantasy as a genre is generally accused of being quite escapist. However, there are several arguments that can be used to refute this claim. Some fantasy worlds are actually worse than the one in which the reader resides. Fantasy is not necessarily the only means of escape. The reader can learn a life lesson through reading fantasy, as it offers them a different perspective on their own world. However, for as many arguments there are to refute the claim of escapism, every time a story has a happy ending the same claim will simply resurface.

Fantasy: What Is It?

Luke Hider answers:

Fantasy, what is it? I suppose I can try and put this as formally as possible. Fantasy is a mind blowing experience that grips you by the cerebral cortex and sends shivers down your spine. Fantasy is the ideas you get when just shittin' around with your friends, or when wondering whether Legolas or Drizzt would win in a fight. In short fantasy is the coolest part of using your imagination, and should be respected as such. Of course fantasy can be defined in a more academic nature, and this can be qualified by looking at some of the more prominent authors of the genre.

When talking about defining Fantasy the first name on anyone's list would be Tolkien. As to not gush over his numerous qualifications as an expert I will just clearly state that the man reinvented the genre on a mainstream level. Taking shoe-making elves, making them grow five feet, giving them amplified everything, and arming them with deadly skills in just about every way you could want to kill someone. Point being, Tolkien had some pretty badass ideas, case closed.

In order to see what Tolkien defines as fantasy we need to take a deeper look into his characterization. Since I have already started to discuss characters in fantasy I think its safe to say a fantasy novel needs these certain "beings." Not to limit yourselves to dwarves, elves, wizards etc. but that there should be some mythical aspect to your characters. If you want to give your dwarves wings with lasers shooting out of their eyes, then by all means. Or perhaps make up your own character that has four legs, four arms, spits venom, and drinks coffee! This is part of the beauty that makes fantasy so enticing to readers.

Arguably the most important aspect that defines fantasy is the setting that its taking place in, or rather the world built around your characters. In order to demonstrate this you can refer to Tepper's work in King's Blood Four. Tepper had a rather unique idea when building her world, which was to make it almost entirely opposite of our own. But she takes it deeper and looks at the infrastructure of our world, the laws and morals that govern us and makes this new world spit on such things. At first you want to reject such a wildly inappropriate concept, but after a while it becomes your guilty pleasure. It's unique ideas like this that make up the majority of what fantasy is. Without a rare world to build inside of, your fantasy story cannot go far.

Listed above are only two of many, many parts of a whole. But if fantasy is what it's supposed to be it will be forever changing and challenging our imaginations. The day I can wholly define fantasy may be the day the genre has died.

"Who Am I?": One Loaded, Sticky Question Addressed by Fantasy Fiction

Kayla Carucci explains:

Motif: a literary convention we have all come to know and love, not to be confused with theme. Teachers pound it into your brain that themes are the most important part of a novel and if you miss the recurrent motifs, you have missed the point of the novel entirely. Common motifs are love, loss, coming of age, and identity/search for identity. Now that we've identified some of the most common motifs in literature, we can start to address the question of common motifs in Fantasy Fiction more specifically. I propose that one of the most prevalent motifs found in Fantasy fiction is the search for one’s identity.

Identity crisis is a common problem in life. We all experience it at one point or another in our lives whether it be when we hit puberty (say hello to hormones!), or in our middle age (that point in life everybody dreads because once they get there, you are officially no longer young). "Who am I?" is one of the most frequently asked questions in actual reality so it makes perfect sense that this is one of the most commonly asked questions in fantasy fiction. Most people think that fantasy fiction is just "fluff" or "light" reading that enables the reader to escape reality. Although this is a common school of thought, it's a wrong school of thought. Fantasy fiction is very relevant to our society and everyday lives because, in its own discrete ways, it helps us learn how to cope with our own identity crises.

Perhaps the most common time in our lives for identity crisis to occur is when one is in the dreaded teenage years. Everything is hitting you at once and it seems like nothing ever goes your way. You always feel like nobody understands your problems and therefore you are "a lone wolf," "alone in the universe," or any of the other millions of euphemisms teenagers use to describe their misfortunes while they are trying to find out who they are. Fantasy fiction with the theme of identity crisis or discovering one's true identity is a fantastic source to turn to for people going through identity crises of their own.

Sherri Tepper's The True Game is a perfect example of a work of fantasy fiction in which the main character, Peter, is trying to work through an identity crisis and discover who he truly is. Peter is a child who was dropped off by his parents in School Town as an infant so he has no clue who his real parents are (or if he even has them). On top of that, in the land of The True Game, you either have a talent, or you are a Pawn. Peter must discover his talent to find his place in society. This situation is perfect for a reader who is going through an identity crisis of their own to read about because it can help them work through their own crisis.

At the beginning of the book, Peter is in Schooltown where he is basically shielded from reality as he goes through his day-to-day routines. While he is in Schooltown he craves adventure, but is unaware that he will soon be confronted with the adventure of a lifetime as he is unexpectedly thrust into the True Game. Throughout the novel, Peter encounters many difficulties that assist him on his way through adolescence and also aid him in the discovery of who he really is. With each challenge, Peter grows into himself more than he thought he could. Finally, by the end of the novel, he has witnessed a great battle (and been a key player in it) and uncovered a portion of himself. He has learned part of his mysterious past and is well on his way to discovering the full truth about his parentage and his own identity.

Through fantasy fiction, a person can be comforted about their own identity crisis and work through it alongside the character that they are reading about. Having something to connect to and relate to is crucial to working through an identity crisis, and teenagers especially need this connection to feel that they are not going through their own version of hell alone. The connection that can be made between the quest for one to find their true self in the novel and the reader's own personal quest for who they are is what links fantasy fiction to reality. For this reason, identity crisis/search for one's true identity is one of the most common motifs in Fantasy Fiction.

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.

Identity in Fantasy: Why It’s Common and What It Means

Tiffany Wood explains:

Fantasy fiction is a growing sapling in the forest of literature, but already it has conventions, stereotypes, successes and failures, and all the other defining qualities of a genre. Some of these attributes may be a bit harder to pin down than usual given its relative youth, but the main thing to consider is this: though fantasy is young, it is alive and well and has been developing patterns through which we can begin to understand its purpose and influence (conventions such as world-building, mythical creatures, good vs. evil...). One such pattern I'd like to address is that of identity. It seems as though a lot of fantasy fiction is built around the search for identity, or deals with coming of age. Why is this? Why is identity a common theme in so many fantasy books? I will try to uncover the answer to this question by looking at a stunning specimen of the fantasy genre: King's Blood Four of the True Game series. Sheri Tepper weaves a beautiful tale around Peter, a lost boy with whom we travel through the lands of the True Game in order to find out exactly who he is. Tepper will help us answer why the question of identity works so well in this genre, and what it means for us as readers.

It must first be established that the question of identity is not unique to fantasy, by any means. However, it is true that it plays out especially well in this particular genre, and for good reason. Every human being in the history of time has dealt with the question, "Who am I?" and all its various sub-questions. Thus, writing a novel about it makes for a very relateable story. In fantasy, however, there is the added aspect of the unknown, the new creatures and world and rules that the author chooses to create, so a reader is often just as curious about this world as a young or lost character would be. It makes it especially convenient for the author to introduce readers to this fantastical place through the eyes of a character who is also searching and learning at the same time. The reader and the character can, in a way, grow up together, and both reach maturity by the end of the story.

Sheri Tepper masters this growth with impressive grace in her novel, King's Blood Four. Peter, the main character, almost literally has no identity. For starters, he is what is called a “foundling” (7), another name for a child abandoned at birth, only to be taken in by his school. He has no clue who his parents are, or where he came from. Secondly, he is still young, which means he does not yet know what is his Talent, or natural, inherited gift that defines what kind of player he is and power he has during the True Game. At this stage, he is still an anonymous, inconsequential pawn, worth little. During much of the book he is frustrated and confused that he knows so little about himself, and is anxious for the day when he knows what Talent he has, what power will make his existence mean something. At one point in the novel he is in some amount of danger as men are chasing him, and he cries out in anger and confusion, "What do I look like? Some Wizard Child? [...] I look like what I am. A student. No sign of Talent yet. No sign of a name. No nothing" (26). We feel his struggle with identity, and relate to it. At another point he explains, "Understand, for boys of my age...the most important thing is to know what name, what talent we will have. We search for signs of it, hints, even for auspices.... What did this mean?" (43). We all need to feel some sort of meaning and purpose in life; we need to find out what we are good at. At this point, he knows next to nothing, and it weighs on him heavily.

Peter also has to leave his home after a mix up at his Schooltown in the first chapter, and he does not know much about the surrounding lands or outside world--the world of the True Game. Tepper writes brilliantly in this way, because as readers we are discovering the world at the same time Peter is, through his eyes. Tepper doesn't have to take time out of the narrative to explain to us the rules of this new place. We slowly get fed small tidbits of information as Peter travels deeper into the land, and into himself. The whole book consists of these two journeys, and we are never left behind or out of the loop. In fact, we come to grow even closer to Peter's character as we experience all the same things he does. In this way, Tepper beautifully illustrates the convenience of a coming of age story in fantasy. If Peter were old and experienced, then Tepper would have to backtrack in her explanations of her world, or insert potentially awkward flashbacks or boring chunks of information, for our sake. But since Peter is just as fresh as we are, Tepper can weave our journey and Peter’s into one solid, forward moving, chronological tapestry.* For example, Peter is with his friends in a new place, and they are sharing their thoughts about what might happen, and Peter gets "mocked once more for being naïve." His friend then tells him, "Why, it's the way of the Game, lad," and goes on to explain to him (and us) another aspect of the True Game that is important (60). Both we and Peter get a lesson, and we are grateful he is coming of age so that we can learn through him. As readers we don't feel ignorant, like we might if the author had had to explain this just for us, instead of for Peter.

Eventually, Peter finds out that he is the son of one of the most important, powerful women of the Game, nephew to his old, wise teacher, and soon after that what his remarkable Talent is. These things are trivial for us except for how they made him feel. It is coming upon him to make use of his Talent and save the people he loves and avert disaster and he wonders, "While I...what in the name of the seven devils did I want? Nothing. I wanted to do nothing. Nothing at all. Doing things was frightening. Every time I had done anything at all decisive, I had been terrified" (138). This epitomizes the rising action of Peter's self discovery. He finally has what he's been seeking this whole time, and now that he is confronted with it, all he can feel is fear. How many times have we felt the same thing! We come to a point where we must take action, do something with ourselves and face responsibility, and it's terrifying, this fear of failure. But of course, he comes to do what is necessary, and he solemnly tells us, "From that moment on I was no longer a boy. Why should one raise up the dead and remain innocent, but raise up love and fear death? I leave that to you to figure out. I only learned in that moment that it was true" (151). And here is the climax. Peter knows who exactly who he is, what he has to do, and he accepts it. Look how much he has matured, and so have we. At the beginning we felt his confusion, and then we trailed behind him as he wandered and began to learn about himself and the strange land, and now we feel his triumph, his maturity. We are right there with him; we have grown up just as much as he has, and it is a moving moment.

It is not difficult to see the perfect fit of a coming of age story inside of the fantasy genre. The search for identity goes hand in hand with the introduction and development of a new world, and authors like Tepper are taking full advantage. But now we can see that it is more than that--this question of identity is something we all struggle with, and placing this relevant issue within a fantastic context helps us to feel familiar with the author's strange new world. Further, it creates a real connection to the characters in the book because we're right there with them as they discover who they are, and this is a wonderful thing. We become friends; we gain an understanding of each other. This is not only why so many fantasy stories raise the question of identity, but it's often one reason why they are so great.

Note

*In actuality, Peter is older (if not quite grown up) when he is telling his story, but for the purposes of this paper, this fact is of little consequence, because Peter tells the story through his adolescent eyes. He relives it for us as it actually happened, so regardless of his current age in the novel's real time, we are still receiving the young, immature Peter in King's Blood Four and experiencing the events with him as he actually experienced them.

Bibliography

Tepper, Sheri S. The True Game. New York: The Berkeley Publishing Group, 1996. Print.