Part 1. Finish genre definition and example(s) from Midterms 1 & 2:
Clark
Omo
10
May 2017
Defining the Impossible
In
the last few installments into this definition attempt, one aspect of the
fantasy genre that has been emphasized is its sheer flexibility and absorption
of a plethora of literary genres and themes across the board. It is a genre with
multiple facets that clone some traits from other genres such as Political
Thriller, Romance, and Western, and this range of versatility affects its
definition regarding Subject, Form, and Narrative. And, at its core, the Fantasy
genre focuses on the implementation of mythology and history into many of its
narratives, whether it be a set world with a rigid chronology like that of
Middle-earth or a much looser and gap-filled timeline like that of Westeros.
Yet, despite these facts, the one aspect that weaves this genre together
regardless of history and myth or genre definition, is its use of the
impossible. The impossible can take many forms in the Fantasy genre, most often
through the inclusion of magic in many (if not all) of the genre’s works: “The
fantasy genre is described as being primarily focused on magic, the
supernatural, and the occult” (“Literary Definitions”). But whatever its form,
subject, or audience, the impossible riddles the stories of Fantasy, and it
defines the genre down to its very atom.
The
first manifestation of the impossible (and the most obvious) in the Fantasy
Genre is the use of magic. The construction of magic can vary throughout
fantasy. There are some works where the world of the story is saturated with
magic at almost every level, whether it be the political, military, or basic
social structure. The Harry Potter
series is perhaps the best example. as the world of the
Potter Series is drowning in magic.
Often, the generic term for this sort of magic is called ‘high magic’.
Currently, one of the bestselling authors in the Fantasy Genre, Brandon
Sanderson, implements this sort of magic system throughout his series. He even
goes so far as to create laws and regulations for it through his First and
Second Laws (Sanderson, n.pg.). The use of magic may seem trivial and perhaps
even gimmicky, but the extent to which it is defined in some of these works
speaks to the contrary. If magic were simply nothing more than a ‘cool factor’
for writing fantasy, then why must it be explained in such detail in these ‘high
magic’ works? Why must the characters of
Harry Potter cast spells rather than simply point their wands and say ‘go
there’ or ‘turn into whatever’? Magic serves a purpose in these ‘high magic’
works, and that purpose is to make the impossible not only tangible and useful,
but also mundane. What would it be like to live in a world where the ability to
turn diamonds into mud would be a commonplace ability? The use of magic in
Fantasy begs this question, along with many others that challenge ideas of power
and control, which the inclusion of magic seems to be centered around. ‘High
magic’ places immense power in the hands of those who wield it; abilities to
read another person’s mind, turning steel into water, etc. And yet, ‘high magic’
works also place regulations on such powers.
The Inheritance Cycle, for example,
is rife with the costs of magic. Power is not granted out of wanton desire or
unregulated excess, but it is shown to have rules and costs. Magic, therefore,
represents the probable impossible, and goes so far to outline the advantages,
as well as the disadvantages, of power in the first place.
And,
where there must be ‘high magic’, there also must be ‘low magic’. ‘Low magic’ is
a term applied to magic systems that are much less defined and concrete opposed
to those in ‘high magic’ works. Galley remarks of this kind (though not by
name): “though [they]…don’t feature magic in an obvious way, they still deal
with other worldly occurrences, or the supernatural” (n.pg.) And this is true.
Though the magic of these works is neither codified nor quantified, the
impossible within is still readily present. A few examples would be
The Lord of the Rings,
The Chronicles of Narnia,
A Song of Ice and Fire, and
The First Law Trilogy. Most the time,
magic in these works is pushed to the far corners of the world, where it is
regarded with superstition, uncertainty, and skepticism. The magnitudes may
vary. In The Lord of the Rings, magic
occupies the world to an immense degree, evident in the presence of the elves
and their homes, the servants of Sauron, the One Ring, and, of course, Gandalf
the Grey. Yet, even with its clear and present occupation of the world, magic
still possesses an uncertain nature. We never once see a direct explanation for
where the magic originates or how it works. The audience just knows it is there
and feels its presence. This is a clever play on Tolkien’s part, for whenever
the magic does appear it strikes the audience with an even more profound effect.
Magic’s absence from the narrative creates a sort of hook in the story: a
distant fascination. There is power in the world of Fantasy, but it does not
dominate nor transfix the story. It lingers on the edges, but it is there, and
it will eventually make its presence known. Such a sense is found
A Song of Ice and Fire as well, where
the White Walkers march back into the world after an immensely long absence,
along with the Dragons. With the use of this creeping magic, the narrative
constructs a story that focuses secondarily on the possibility of the impossible
coming back into the world, and how the characters will encounter it. Such use
of magic asks the readers to consider the possibility of greater power existing
outside the range of measurable knowledge, for in
A Song of Ice and Fire the impossible
is very much possible.
Regarding how the Fantasy Narratives are constructed around magic, again they
can take any form, but magic or the impossible, will characterize them. The
Tragedy of a Fantasy Story could be that the power the of a magical object is
evil and must be destroyed, but the destroyer of the object could be left with a
lingering side effect, such as in The
Lord of the Rings, where, even after the One Ring is destroyed, both Bilbo
and Frodo are still affected after having borne the evil of the Ring for so
long. Furthermore, in Comedy there can be outrageous affects with magic, or
perhaps even undercuts to magic. How does Gandalf scare away the Wargs in
The Hobbit? He sets pinecones on fire
and throws them at the evil wolves, setting their fur on fire. Magic, combined
with Comedy, can take on a sort of undercutting wit that deflates the power of
its users, or even increases their unseen power. Gandalf is capable of setting
pine cones on fire; is that all? And, of course, Romance figures into magic
almost innately. Romance depends on escape and release, and what better way to
do accomplish this goal than with powers that already set you apart from the
normal? Harry Potter is such a character; his adopted parents, the Dursleys, set
him apart from the rest of the family because of his magical heritage, making
him an outcast. This is a story that Romance would take high advantage of, and
Potter does eventually find his Romantic escape by going to Hogwarts and
avoiding the restrictions and confinements of dull, Muggle life. Thus, the
Narrative for Fantasy depends to a degree on how magic is handled in the world
of the story. Fantasy can have elements of Comedy, Tragedy, and Romance, but
they are all woven together by the presence and impact of the impossible.
Magic
also affects the Subject of the Fantasy Genre as well. As mentioned before, the
construction of magic varies across the Fantasy Genre, but this is slightly
dependent on age groups. More adult Fantasy works will more likely contain magic
that is either high or low, but impacts the story and world in major and
consequential way. But younger audiences can find magic too; George R.R. Martin,
after all, did write a children’s book (“George R.R. Martin, n.pg.). But in
deeper respects, the question remains why would anyone be interested in stories
that depend upon the impossible in the first place. Such stories are already
hindered by the fact so much of what they tell can never and will never happen
or exist. How can such tales be brought into the real world? At one point in
time, man was obsessed with the unknowable and unseen. Such is why the Romans,
the Greeks, and other ancient peoples applied what they could not understand to
the power of their gods or the acts of spirits. And humanity is still obsessed
with such ideas, or else the genres of both Science Fiction and Fantasy would
have died out a long time ago, along with NASA. Card remarks upon both Fantasy
and Science Fiction as being set in “other worlds, because we’ve never gone
there” (n.pg.). Fantasy deals with the unknowable by setting it in a world
separate from our own where the impossible still breathes; a world where men are
in close contact with myth and legend in the form of magic and gods, both being
powers that are above and beyond Mankind. Are such things even possible; do they
exist? Fantasy’s Audience are those who wish to engage with these questions.
Fantasy’s stories center around how powers beyond human understanding can affect
the lives of men, and how man as a race can gain power by them, such as through
magic, or be equally destroyed by them. The Subject of Fantasy is this:
encountering the impossible, and then living with it.
Magic
also affects the Form of the Fantasy Genre as well. There is a difference
between reading magic and then seeing magic, either in a video game or on the
silver screen. As discussed in a previous installment, Fantasy makes especial
use of the Narrator + Dialogue Form. Most Fantasy stories focus around a
selected cast of both primary and secondary characters, with their tales either
being told by a separated narrator or one of the characters of the story itself.
However, these characters and narrators are the ones who are affected by the
magic, use it, or contend with it. In The
Fellowship of the Ring, the narrator reflects the affects that magic has
upon many of the characters, such as when they enter Lothlorien: “It seemed to
him [Frodo] that he had stepped through a high window that looked on a vanished
world” (Tolkien, 341). Magic’s power is reiterated when Frodo handles the One
Ring, as well: “[W]ith an effort of will he made a movement, as if to cast it
away—but he found that he had put it back in his pocket” (59). The Narrator
relates how magic affects the characters and inhabits the world, thus cementing
the power of magic upon the narrative even further. Magic and the Narrator work
in tandem, as if the Narrator is sometimes the spellcaster himself. Furthermore,
the Dialogue also uses this affect as well. In
The Two Towers, when the characters
stand upon the steps of Orthanc, Saruman appears and casts a spell, just with
his words and voice: “[the voice was] low and melodious, its very sound an
enchantment…’Well?’ it said now with a gentle question. ‘Why must you disturb my
rest?’” (564). Dialogue in Fantasy carries the effects of magic along with the
Narrator, and they work conjunctively to weave the spell of the characters upon
the audience. Magic, therefore, is woven into the Form of the genre as well, for
using our language to relate and describe the impossible is one of the genre’s
most everlasting trademarks.
The
impossible is the lifeblood of the Fantasy Genre and all its subclasses and
relatives. Often the impossible takes the form of magic, high or low, and it
affects the Form, Subject, and Narrative styles of the genre all throughout. The
impossible saturates Fantasy even through the very words used to describe its
many worlds and characteristics. With magic, Fantasy asks its audiences to reach
deep into their imaginations and try to picture worlds where gods still walk and
men have power to alter nature itself. Magic may appear as a cheap ploy to
indulge the simpleminded and those unwilling to grapple with complex and
impacting issues, but, on the contrary, it highlights them more so. Fantasy
gives you worlds where man must face forces and authorities greater than he. It
presents you with characters that are part of this world and have learned to
live with the impossible or bend it to their own wills. And, most of all, it
asks you if the impossible still exists.
Works
Cited
Card,
Orson Scott. “Defining Science Fiction and Fantasy.”
Writer’s Digest, 28 Sept. 2010,
http://www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/by-writing-goal/get-published-sell-my-work/defining-science-fiction-and-fantasy.
Accessed 10 May 2017.
“Literary Definitions: Defining the Fantasy Genre.”
PFS: The Book Club. Pritchett,
Farlow, and Smith Publishing, 6 March 2011,
http://www.pfspublishing.com/bookclub/2011/03/literary-definitions-the-fantasy-genre.html.
Accessed 10 May 2017.
Galley, Ben. “Writing Fantasy: A Short Guide to the Genre.”
The Creative Penn, 27 June 2013,
http://www.thecreativepenn.com/2013/06/27/writing-fantasy/. Accessed 10 May
2017.
Sanderson, Brian. “Sanderson’s First Law.”
brandonsanderson.com, 20 Feb. 2007.
https://brandonsanderson.com/sandersons-first-law/. Accessed 27 April 2017.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Fellowship of the
Ring. Houghton Mifflin, 1994.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Two Towers.
Houghton Mifflin, 1994.
“The
Ice Dragon.” George R.R. Martin,
http://www.georgerrmartin.com/grrm_book/the-ice-dragon/. Accessed 10 May 2017.
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