Monday, December 20, 2010

Influences on C.S. Lewis's Perspective

Hannah Morris takes a look:

Perspective. Defined by Dictionary.com as "the state of one's ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship," perspective is the lens through which individuals view the world. People from across the globe have differing ideas about how the universe works due to contrasting customs, religious beliefs, and geographic locations. It is inevitable that humans will have different perspectives about their environments and that the biases they create will shine through in their everyday lives, especially in their work. This is particularly obvious in the work of authors.

Authors of all kinds are inspired to write based on their own experiences and beliefs. A prime example of this can be seen in The Chronicles of Narnia series by C.S. Lewis. This classic piece of literature is one that was heavily influenced by the Christian Bible and Lewis's religious beliefs. This relationship is particularly strong in the second book in the series, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Here Lewis constructs a fantasy world, Narnia, based off of the Biblical description of the creation of our world. He also creates characters that symbolize Jesus Christ, Satan, and numerous other Biblical figures. After reading this piece it is undeniable that an author's environment had an immense impact on his work, and how the audience reacted to it.

While the Good Book is never actually mentioned in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, its influence is clear through the character of the almighty Aslan. In the first book of the Chronicles, The Magician's Newphew, we are introduced to this ferocious yet compassionate lion. Similarly to Jesus Christ, Aslan creates his own world and calls it Narnia. This world is intended to be perfect and Lewis even includes a reference to the Tree of Good and Evil. This tree is forbidden and the residents of Narnia are advised not to eat from it. However, much like Adam in the Garden of Eden, a wicked witch indulges in the tree's fruit and therefore Narnia is corrupt. Fast forward a few fictional years and Narnia is entirely under the control of the evil witch. She has transformed this once prosperous land into a frozen dungeon where anxiety runs high, and even the trees are spies. It is here that The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe begins. Aslan has left the area and all of the animals in Narnia are desperate for him to make a glorious return. This is directly related to Jesus' return to earth. According to the Gospel earth had become a wicked place, and the death of God's Son was the only way for humans to be forgiven for their many sins. As The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe continues the connection between the two becomes increasingly obvious, until the great Aslan sacrifices himself in order to save the rest of the animal kingdom. Over and over the reader is bombarded with allusions to the Bible and Lewis' influences become increasingly clear.

In conclusion it is obvious that C. S. Lewis was heavily influenced by his surroundings when penning The Chronicles of Narnia. His Christian beliefs and knowledge of the Bible are evident in the entire series and his references to them are particularly clear in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Reading this piece is comparable to reading the Bible and substituting animals in place of main characters. This shows that authors of all kinds, and especially those from the fantasy genre, are influenced heavily by their environments and perspectives of the world.

On the Existence of Fantasy

Lizzie Reid gets metaphysical:

Why does fantasy fiction exist? What is so enticing as to inspire multitudes of authors and readers alike to turn the genre? More precisely, what is so entertaining about magic, fantastic creatures, and worlds somehow different (and often more miraculous) than our own?

I've always been drawn to fantasy. As a little girl I reveled in stories of mermaids, princesses, fairies, and unicorns (the usual 'girlish' trappings of the genre), but that's not to say I wasn't also completely taken by warriors, dragons, demons, and a prevalence of magical swords. During "pretend" I was definitely a warrior princess who shot sparkling arrows that never missed their mark. I might pin this childhood fascination down with social conditioning. What American child hasn't seen Disney's The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, and Aladdin? And then there are all those fairy tales you're fed for bedtime stories. But this is not entirely accurate for everyone, and certainly only one piece of the mystery. After all, it doesn't explain why every culture in existence has its treasured tales of heroes, heroines, beasts, and evil magicians. Not to mention the fact that even now, in my ripe age of 20, I am still captivated by fantasy.

I think its easy to say that the roots of fantasy as a genre are fairy tales, myths, fables, and legends, spanning across all cultures. A perfect example of this would be J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, which draws from ancient tales in Celtic and Norse mythology, both in world-building and character design. Goblins, elves, dragons, dwarves, forests infested with evil, and rings with inherent magical powers. All of these elements were borrowed from earlier tales, reinvented to fit into a grand fantastical world shrouded in mystery. So wherein lies the birthplace of dragons? Or of elves?

Maybe our ancient counterparts knew something us modern humans have lost. Perhaps those pesky Druids killed off every last magical creature they could find, and their only haunting legacy is the imprint they left on the human imagination. More likely the answer lies within the imagination.

Humans are notoriously good at making things up, and we have a tendency to overlay metaphorical meaning onto otherwise mundane objects. With these two skills in hand, and the appetite of our souls, I'm sure that the creation of unicorns is not far off. This is the very basic beginning of an explanation on the origin of the fantastic (in all forms), but that would be a very lengthy, messy thing for a two page blog post.

It's in the nature of the imagination where we can begin answering the "whys" of the genre. A healthy imagination is like a healthy appetite. Growing bodies need nutritious foods, and likewise, growing minds need nourishing information. So, what better sustenance than that of a genre full of stimulating imagery, characters and creatures rich in myth, social and political critique, and above all: immense entertainment. Fantasy is literature, literature is art, and art (though not exhaustively) is the spiritual expression of self and/or humanity in some metaphysical way.

So when asking the question: "Why does fantasy fiction exist?", it's nearly impossible to give a single straight answer. Rather, I think it's important to look at many factors. It's entertaining; it's linked to our past in so many ways, and it's linked directly to our spiritual make-up. Fantasy serves the purpose of filling in voids created by an oppressive mundanity we might face in everyday life (if we allow it to). That is to say, it is not a crutch for people who find their life deathly boring, but a multifaceted tool that can be used for the betterment of our reality. It does serve a purpose, and just like that of literature of the "highest quality" (wherever shall we find it!) fantasy fiction can be an extremely insightful remark on humanity. And it's more enjoyable to read.

Escape, Entertainment, Education

Kristian Everett explains:

Fantasy fiction is often accused of being escapist, containing characters and plot lines which whisk you away to other worlds and societies, drawing attention away from what's "real"; however, while fantasy fiction may indeed be escapist, literature which can provide an escape from the stresses of life should be valued. While academia insults and degrades fantasy fiction, the general public embraces it. We value forms of entertainment which give us ways of coping with our ever more stressful lives. This can be seen not only in fantasy fiction but also in the lucrative businesses of film and video games. We pay for escape, for entertainment, and for relaxation.

Institutions which provide entertainment with an escapist element receive billions of dollars a year. This tremendous profit margin conveys some sense of our value for entertainment. Film and video game industries produce products taking us away from our everyday lives. We go to the movies to watch characters interact in unknown worlds, overcome impossible odds, and find romance; we play video games to become these characters; we read fantasy to do both. In the United States there are a growing number of people on medication for anxiety, stress, and depression. Clearly, our daily lives are taking such a toll on our quality of life that we feel incapable of handling it on our own. Films, video games, and fiction provide an escape that's becoming necessary in order to deal with our lives.

Fantasy series such as Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings, and Eragon are all examples of the escapism of fantasy affecting larger and larger portions of our population. Hundreds of millions of dollars have been spent in the production of these films and most produce an extremely lucrative profit. While we may scoff at fantasy fiction because it doesn't deal with real life, the general public eats up these film adaptations. Film adaptations are nothing more than faster, easier forms of the books, combining our desires for escape and entertainment with the demand for quick satisfaction: why read a book when you can watch the film in a fraction of the time?

Fantasy, however, does not simple serve as an escape for audiences and readers. Tied in with the escapism of the novels are moral ideals, role models, and social conventions. What makes fantasy great is that, while fantasy often entertains through stories of other worlds, strange societies, and complex relationships, it often reflects on portions of our own world and society. These lessons and values are inherent in fantasy fiction, because the authors of fantasy novels reside in the "real" world. These authors can't help but be affected by what's happening around them. Many of the concepts and tropes found in the early fantasy novels of foundational writers like Tolkien and Lewis reflect on real world issues, such as religion and war. Children and adults who go to see The Lord of the Rings trilogy in the theatres are there to be entertained. However, while they're being entertained the characters and the actions those characters take, the decisions they make, and the real world ideas they represent are subconsciously affecting the viewers.

Fantasy fiction is escapist, but this is alright. It's alright because fantasy is not merely escapist. It's a myriad of ideals and concepts, defining and addressing moral and social issues. It gives examples of real world lessons through characters of fantastic proportions. When you read a fantasy book or watch a film adaptation you might be there for the entertainment, to not think about your "real" life, but you're absorbing more than just escapism. You're absorbing values and traditions which other genres are upheld for. What makes other genres "superior" to fantasy can be found in fantasy as well. It's just disguised and absorbed into our conscious without our realizing it. It entertains and it teaches.

"Serious Discussions of Identity? In a Fantasy Novel?!"

Josh Jerome responds to his titular interlocutor:

Detractors of the fantasy genre are quick to call it escapism, indulgent nostalgia, or any number of terms that amount to it being an insubstantial art with little meaning or value. While it's true that some fantasy is utter pulp fiction, there are many works within the genre that tackle real-world issues in ways that only fantasy can. An excellent example of a substantial fantasy novel is Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. The book is a satirical take on the Apocalypse, with numerous angels and demons all working towards the ultimate battle between Heaven and Hell. The three principal characters--the angel Aziraphale, the demon Crowley, and the Antichrist Adam--are all examples of conflicting identities. According to the Great Plan of which John wrote in Revelations, all three of them are meant to be instrumental in bringing about Armageddon. The only problem is, they happen to like the world, and ending it would just ruin all their days.

The thing about angels and demons is, they were created without free will. Each of them has a job to do in God's Plan, and to contradict it is to go against the very nature of their existence. Of course, over six thousand years living among people, some of that free will starts to rub off. Aziraphale and Crowley reached a working friendship somewhere in history, to the point that one will do the other's job if they happen to be in the neighborhood. The decision to try and avert the Apocalypse is made by Crowley (being easier for him since demons are, by definition, rebels). Crowley then has to persuade Aziraphale to go along with it, pointing out the sheer insipidity of a world in which Heaven wins the Last Battle, but the point that gets him on board isn't a philosophical one. It's the lack of sushi. For an angel to actively attempt to subvert God's order is no small thing--just ask Lucifer. Conversely, Crowley's defiance of Hell's shot at checkmate consigns him to torments that the damned could look at and say "at least I'm not that guy."

Due to a breakdown in communication, the plan to give the new-born Antichrist to Satanist parents fails spectacularly. Because of this, the child is given the name Adam and raised in a pretty vanilla family--he has friends, gets into trouble (like any other boy, just with a bit more style), and ends up with a decidedly human outlook. It's important to note that the main reason Adam rejects his Antichrist tendencies is because of a "what have I done" moment that occurs when he imposes his will on his friends. He later explains to Beelzebub and the Metatron that he's not going to let the world end, since that wouldn't prove anything. He then proceeds to disallow Satan's appearance on Earth. In overcoming his birthright, Adam is able to override the next-best thing to a deity.

By having the main characters overcome their natures through exertion of their free will, Gaiman and Pratchett make a strong point: a person (or even an odd divine being) isn't shunted into certain actions just because "fate" says so.

Though one example is hardly enough to sway the opinions of those that turn up their nose at fantasy fiction, Good Omens is far from the only fantasy novel that deals with substantial issues. The genre, by virtue of being something other than an orgy of verisimilitude, is able to present important issues with just enough contextual baggage to thoroughly examine them.

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.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Omens That Are Good

Well, I have to write this “essay” for my Fantasy Fiction course at SUNY Fredonia. My professor has allowed us free range over pretty much any topic and any text that has sparked our interest. *activate demonic voice distortion* MUAH HAH HAH. *deactivate demonic voice distortion* So, I love the book Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (or Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett...) and so should you. I would like to talk about its ranking on the awesomeness chart that I have installed in my brain, but I don’t think I could transfer the files to all of you (and Dr. Simon said that this needs to be “educational” or something). One of the questions brought up when Dr. Simon asked us what we wanted to take away from this class, at the beginning of the year, was whether or not we were really learning anything relevant by studying fantasy fiction.

So, are we really learning anything relevant by studying fantasy fiction? If you’re actually taking the time to read this, my guess is that you just set down some book with a dragon or wizard or demon or quaragathorp, or some other creature flying around some celestial body of planets or stars in a distant galaxy on the cover to read some nerdy dude’s fantasy blog, and I’m not going to have to do too much convincing in order to prove that, well, yes, yes we are. (Greatest thesis statement of my college career thus far--thank you, taxpayers of New York, for allowing me to do this.)

I’ve been starting to really see the connectivity of the world around us, and all the subjects that I’ve been studying, both in and out of the classroom. After reading (if you can actually call such an experience with such a book “reading”) Good Omens, the gears, or cogs, or hamsters, or whatever, of my brain were whirling. I was thinking mostly about the philosophical statement that Gaiman and Pratchett were making that when it comes down to it good and evil either don’t exist, or don’t really matter due to our ability to morally and logically weigh the implications of our actions. This, my friends, is what you would call “relevant.” It is relevant now, it was relevant when this book was published in 1990, it was relevant as soon as man “bit the apple” and will be relevant ‘til the day we blow ourselves up (or don’t blow ourselves up...). These men (you can substitute geniuses, or in the spirit of Pratchett, conjurers) are trying to convey to us the importance of...get ready for it...actually THINKING before we act. Now the irony in that statement due to the indulgences in their immortal characters could be a whole other essay, but I’ll spare you that. What Pratchett and Gaiman are telling us is that no matter what the extenuating circumstances are, no matter what outside influences may be trying to affect you, the only one responsible for your actions is yourself. Crowley just put the guns in the hands of the businessmen; it was their decision to use them that was evil, not Crowley’s outside influence (in fact his influence, that the bullets didn’t kill, would probably be considered good, *BUM bum BUM!*)

There’s also that whole free will thing. Interestingly enough, in Philosophy class the other month, prior to my Fantasy Fiction class’s discussion of Good Omens, we discussed the concept of “free will,” and discovered that in essence it contains two stipulations: a “will,” or a desire, drive, or motivation to do something, and “freedom,” the ability to act upon your will. Constantly throughout the novel central characters, (Crawley, Aziraphale, Adam) are forced to act against their will. None of them truly want the world to end, yet this is a story of the apocalypse, so for the first 360 or so pages, one starts to doubt that there is such a thing as free will; there will always be barriers, roadblocks, limitations, divine beings controlling your employment statuses threatening you with eternal torture, that will impede or exercise control over your willingness to do things. However at the end we are provided with some hope. Gaiman and Pratchett liberate these characters, suspend doom, and look towards a bright future of eating apples. This goes to show that there is such a thing as “free will,” within our grasp; all you have to do is break some rules, do some hard work, and pray that the Son of Satan is truly a sweetheart deep down inside.

Relevance! I hope that you came away with at least something from this brain diarrhea that has been cleverly disguised as a “response paper,” but if you have not yet, then I offer you this: read Good Omens. If you want a copy, send me an e-mail and you can borrow mine, I only ask one favor from you in return: think.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Can Anything Come from Studying Fantasy Fiction?

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.

Monday, December 13, 2010

What Is Fantasy?

Christy Hewitt
ENGL 299

What is fantasy? A question we have all tried to decipher. As we read these novels there seems to be a distinct formula for what makes up a fantastical novel. Their ‘out of this world’ plot and completely different character complexes challenge the reader to think outside of the box. In The Chronicles of Narnia we are introduced to what we see as fantasy that takes place through the real world. Throughout this essay I will attempt to discover what fantasy is and how it is different from the ‘real world.’

There are many different definitions of the word ‘fantasy.’ Some people define it as ‘a creative imagination’; others see it as ‘an invention of the mind.’ When entering this class I had no idea what to expect. I am not someone who is very into reading fantasy books because of their material. I define fantasy as ‘an escape from the real.’ The reason I define it that way is because that what I thought every book in the fantasy genre was doing. As I read these novels I am beginning to see it as something deeper.

In The Chronicles of Narnia, you are introduced to the Pevensie children. They live in the real world and happen to stumble into a world full of adventure, a world full of fantasy. As C.S. Lewis writes this series he gives life to every child’s imagination. Like in every genre, there is a protagonist (the children) and an antagonist (the white witch). It is a tale of how the Pevensie children band together to save the world of Narnia.

This has been one of my favorite fantasy novels to read because I was able to fully indulge myself into the reading. I found myself diving into the plot and reading for hours on end. I was in the best sense of the word, escaping. Just like the children did in the novel I was leaving my world of stress, college, work, and more work to join a world of Narnia.

The best part about this novel was that the children were faced with a huge obstacle; they had to save the world. I found myself thinking, “Why don’t they just go back to the real world where their only responsibility is being a kid?” Then about ten pages away from the end of the book it hit me: they want to be in this world. They wanted to be in that world just as much as I wanted to keep reading, as much as I wanted to be in that world. Escaping to the world Lewis had created was easy for them to do and they had so many ‘real world’ things to escape from. There was a war going on and people were dying, really dying because of the war and the children knew it (at least the two oldest did). The house they were in was, for lack of a better word, boring. Being in this brand new world was an escape from the turmoil of the real world. Being in control of their own destiny was something they may not have been able to do in the real world because they had other people making decisions for them but in this new world they were able to make their own choices and choose their own fate (even if that meant returning to the real world).

The world Lewis had created was everything a young child would want to be a part of. There were strange animals that talked, a massive lion with love in his heart, and an evil witch who wanted to control the world. Even though there was a war going on in their ‘new’ world, they were at the epicenter of this war and they had a say in being involved with it. They could save everyone in Narnia (and in the real world this would not have been considered possible). This is what drew the children deeper and deeper into this world.

There has been a fine line between fantasy and reality, a line in which many people can see distinctly. In this novel it is a line between the real world and the world of Narnia, and personally, I think the world of Narnia trumps earth any day. The point of being able to read fantasy is to read about something that is out of the norm, something that you don’t read about in the newspaper, something that you rarely see on TV, something that you don’t read in all the teen drama novels. Fantasy is meant to be read as ‘different.' This genre is something unlike any other genre out there. These authors, Lewis especially, created these worlds and wait for the readers to jump into them.

Now begs the question, well what makes fantasy different from science fiction. My answer, science fiction doesn’t go there. What do I mean by ‘there’? It delves on science and out of the ordinary phenomena. Fantasy fiction brings life to something never before thought of. The syfy channel on TV has all of the crazy out there shows but they don’t have shows about world warping wardrobes and broomstick like soccer games. Fantasy fiction goes even farther into the world of the unknown and thus attracts many fans to its stories.

The Chronicles of Narnia help define fantasy by being a novel about a new world that these children escape into. Not only do the children escape but the readers do as well. The only difference is that when Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy return to the real world nothing has changed and time barely passes. When I return to the real world, 2 hours have passed and I still have to finish the rest of my homework before class the next day.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

"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.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Fantastic Elements of Fantasy Fiction with a Side of Science Fiction

Victoria Rader serves them up:

For me I feel that fantasy fiction is a combination of the real and the imagined, the tangible and the intangible, as well as the rational and irrational. C.S. Lewis's The Magician's Nephew and Anne McCaffrey's Dragonsong are such examples that use each of these elements. The difference, of course, is that Dragonsong tends to lean more towards science-fiction that presents itself as fantasy. Narnia, the in-between, and Charn, are all realistic worlds. Pern is also fairly realistic, the only things that make it different than our world is the Thread and, well, the dragons. Each of these places relate to our own world and have many of the same elements, even though they may seem drastically different.

For an example of the real element in The Magician's Nephew, we turn to Charn. In Charn, the sun is visible in the sky is the same as ours, but still...different. After waking Jadis, Digory notices the sun.

"Was it the Deplorable Word that made the sun like that?" asked Digory.
"Like what?" asked Jadis.
"So big, so red, and so cold."
"It has always been so," said Jadis. "At least, for hundreds of thousands of years. Have you a different sort of sun in your world?"
"Yes, it's smaller and yellower. And it gives a good deal more heat." (Lewis 42)

Jadis then goes on to realize that Digory and Polly come from a much younger world than that of Charn. This different type of sun is one that is completely imaginable in our own world. We often hear of how our own sun will eventually collapse on itself after cooling down and becoming like the sun of Charn: red and cold.

Most of Pern is the same as our own world, even if it seems a few decades (or perhaps centuries) behind our modern conveniences. The community works together for the benefit of everyone and people have designated positions within society: to keep people safe, to organize the obtainment of food and goods, to educate, etc. Dragonsong is perhaps one of the easiest novels we have read that relates so easily to our own world.

Returning to The Magician's Nephew, not all of Charn is similar to our own world. We, for one, don't have one of the imagined elements: magic or curses. At least not in the same capacity as that of Charn. Jadis says "I spoke the Deplorable Word. A moment later I was the only living thing beneath the sun" (Lewis 41). With just one word, this woman destroyed her entire world. Luckily for us, nobody on earth has a power like that (even if they may have tools that could result in something similar). Jadis herself is also a prime example of both the real and the unreal. Humans all have the capacity to be evil, just like Jadis. Many people in the real world would be more than willing to go to the same extremes that Jadis does in order to gain power and control. If humans had the same type of power that Jadis has, we would be utterly screwed.

Imagined elements in Dragonsong include the Thread, dragons, and fire lizards. Thankfully, we have nothing like Thread. Falling from the sky, "Thread could burrow into the seagrass stalks, or slide down the marshberry and seablum bushes, burrow in the roots, multiply and eat anything green and growing until the coast was as bare as a rock" (McCaffrey 15). It could also burn the skin with little hope of recovery. Imagine, something constantly falling from the sky with little warning that could destroy any source of food and potentially physically injure you!

Tangible elements in The Magician's Nephew include the simple things such as the magic rings that Uncle Andrew gives to Digory and Polly. These are physical objects that one can touch and see and play with. The intangible part is again, the magic that comes along with them. It just is. There is no proof of its existence, no way to test whether or not it is real. We are given the story from the eyes of the children. In a way, this could also be a real element if one assumes that the children are simply using their imaginations with the rings. After all, their entire adventure could be one that they thought up in their heads and the rings were just a prop or tool that their imaginations needed.

Dragonsong's tangible element is also its intangible element as well. The fire lizards, also an imagined element, become many things to their owners. The fire lizards that Menolly had fed at birth basically imprinted on her. The next morning "Menolly had been absolutely stunned to wake with the unaccustomed weight of warm bodies around her. Scared, too, until the little creatures roused, with strong thoughts of renewed hunger and love and affection for her" (McCaffrey 93). They were also somehow mentally connected to Menolly, and she was driven to feed and care for them as if they were her own children. The fire lizards also end up fiercely protective of Menolly. Finally, in a surprise to even those that know about and possess fire lizards, Menolly's lizards even learn to sing with her, "They finished the song with the fire lizards humming obediently along with Menolly. Mirrim demanded then to know how on earth Menolly had gotten her lizards to sing with her" (McCaffrey 160).

Children of all ages and walks of life have worries. Polly and Digory are no different. Their worries make up the rational elements of The Magician's Nephew. The poem in front of the bell in Charn reads "Make your choice, adventurous Stranger; / Strike the bell and bide the danger, / Or wonder, till it drives you mad, / What would have followed if you had" (35). The very real worry of what would happen is something that anyone would have to think about had they come into this world. On the other hand, it's the things that the pair have to worry about that are the irrational things. In our world if the pair rang a bell the worst thing that they would have to worry about would be breaking it or getting sent to bed without dinner. In Charn they have to worry about waking up an evil witch that could destroy more than one world!

Menolly also has great worries to account for the rational elements. Being an amazing musician, she naturally wanted to be the Harper for her community in the Hold. Throughout the novel, she is fighting against oppressive social codes and trying to find her place in society. The Threadfall also helps to make up for the irrational element within the novel. As I said before, we do not have to worry about a natural element falling from the sky and putting all of our lives in danger. I mean, sure, we have meteorites and other things falling from space, but most of that burns up in our atmosphere before it can hit earth, and on the occasion that it does hit earth, injuries are rare. The people of Pern actually have official dragon riders to kill the Thread before it hits the earth. Imagine if we had people flying through the sky trying to burn up meteorites!

Many people would argue that Dragonsong is a science fiction novel, but I believe science fiction and fantasy fiction to be strongly related, and sometimes I think it is hard to separate the two. Fantasy and science fiction have so many different elements to them, and I've briefly touched on some that I found to be the most strikingly interesting. There is so much more to explore when it comes to the real/unreal, rational/irrational, and the tangible/intangible elements of these and other stories. I feel as though these six elements are present in one way or another in every fantasy and science fiction novel, and are the makings of a wonderful escape from this world, even though they can relate so closely to our own reality. Perhaps fantasy, science fiction, and our world aren't all that different after all.

Works Cited
Lewis, C.S. The Magician's Nephew. In The Chronicles of Narnia. New York: HarperEntertainment, 2005. Print.
McCaffrey, Anne. Dragonsong. New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 2003. Print.