In Defense of the Fantasy Novel
On the 21st of September, 1937 John R. R. Tolkien published a book that would spark the imagination of nerds and non-nerds alike: The Hobbit. On the 20th of September, about eleven years later, George R. R. Martin, author of the enormously successful Game of Thrones franchise, A Song of Ice and Fire, was born in Bayonne, New Jersey.
These two men have in common not just the odd coincidence of double “R’s” in their names but also the fact that they have contributed substantially to the evolution of fantasy fiction. The success of this literary genre needs no explanation for anyone who has been living on planet earth.
Lord of The Rings sold more than 150 million copies and created a movie franchise that earned billions. The same, on a smaller scale, can be said for Martin’s fantasy novels that created the HBO series Game of Thrones followed by millions worldwide.
Still, it is common to hear people scoff and sneer at the mention of fantasy books. The criticism points to their supposed lack of deep and three-dimensional characters, over-simplified plots and whimsical and imaginary settings. Literary critics show no interest in fantasy books, assuming that they do not deserve a place among other novels.
In an interview with the New York Times on September 4, Ken Follett, illustrious author of the historical novel Pillars of The Earth, joined the ranks of those unappreciative of fantasy. When asked if there was a type of book he avoided as a writer and reader, he replied:
“I just can’t read whimsical fantasy. I’ve never got through a Tolkien. If there are no rules, and anything can happen, then where’s the suspense? I hate elves.”
Ouch.
Who hates elves? They are cute and clean and well coiffed. This objection is a part of a larger conversation regarding the use of mythical creatures in fantasy novels. Follett’s statement addresses the problem of ‘rules’. Of course anything can happen in fantasy.
Except the impossible.
W.R. Irwin, one of few fantasy critics, calls fantasy novels “the literature of the impossible.” Yet, even the fictional worlds of Middle Earth or Westeros establish some pretty basic rules. Gravity for example, functions in the same way as in our own world. Similarly you will find animals, plants and other species from earth. Fire burns and water drowns.
Both authors make an effort to comply with human rationale, by transposing the general limitations of earth into their imaginary realms. The only tricky part is death. Both authors generally feel free to kill off characters, even beloved ones like Boromir from Lord of the Rings and Oberyn Martell from A Song of Ice and Fire. But in the case of Tolkien there is one notable exception: the resurrection of Gandalf the Grey into Gandalf the White.
One explanation is that even characters in novels, fantasy and non-fantasy alike, tend to survive incredible feats. Some of the characters in Pillars of the Earth itself demonstrate an uncanny resilience to pestilence, wounds and fatigue. But the case of Gandalf is a little different. The Gods practically give him a new body, soul, cape and stick (staff).
Within fiction novels the imagination of the author has the power of God. It has the wonderful ability to create and manipulate his fictional world without being weighed down by the constrictions of facts. In this, fantasy and other fiction novels are the same. The difference is that while most fiction novels limit their creative powers to the imitation of things and situations that are plausible for the reader, fantasy has to create that plausibility while pushing beyond the constrictions of reality.
That is why most of the time fantasy novels are set in a world that resembles the Middle Ages on Earth. The distant past represents a simpler reality that can be more easily created without having to deal with the technological complications of today. This is something that fantasy shares with Follett’s preferred genre of historical fiction novels.
In the spectacular novel Pillars of the Earth, Follett has an almost historical approach, making sure that every detail in his story set in the XII Century is precise and accurate. Tolkien, a philologist and an Oxford scholar, does exactly the same. While writing his novels he used the Norse, Saxon and Welsh histories to serve as inspiration for the characters and settings. Fluent in 13 languages, he created about a dozen idioms for his books. With Follett he shared an obsessive attention for minutiae.
All of the most successful fantasy novels have at their very foundation an obsession for detail. Tolkien could not have his main character Frodo just grow wings and fly because that would break the basic assumptions that generate plausability in the plot. The readers would object and abandon the book entirely. Fantasy can’t be the literature of the impossible.
It must be the literature of the conceivable.
Martin, who like Follett was a journalist before devoting his life to writing novels, also demonstrates a keen attention to historical references and detail, though not as compulsively. His saga stretches from references to the political machination of post-medieval England to more subtle incorporations of historical political thinkers. In Game of Thrones, the character of Little Finger demonstrates a political acumen that owes a lot to Machiavelli’s Prince and the deranged asceticism of Melisandre is reminiscent of Savonarola.
Fantasy novels can claim an ancestry that dwarfs many other literary genres. If fantasy is the daughter of myth, it is also the sister of Utopias. Thomas Moore coined the term from the Greek u-topòs, that can mean either the good place or no-place. The genre has had many illustrious reoccurrences in history.
A particularly memorable piece of early fantasy fiction is the II Century writer, Luciano di Samosata, who imagines in his novel that a man called Mennippus gets cyber-wings and flies to the moon only to discover that Zeus has planned to kill all philosophers since they are useless.
Utopian literature is fueled by the power of abstraction, in the sense that it transcends ordinary or political issues into more general topics. In the same way Tolkien utilizes the same process to discuss good vs. evil in his fantasy novels. It may seem simplistic but as a veteran of World War I, the evil of industrialization and the goodness of a quiet and peaceful country life, were not so banal.
The ease with which most fantasy novels place characters at the end of the good/evil spectrum are yet another reason for criticism. But this is not true for either Tolkien’s Gríma Wormtongue or Sméagol/Gollum and for any of Martin’s characters. Fantasy has been able to create memorable and nuanced characters that last throughout the decades.
Martin in this aspect is a revolutionary. By shying away from the clichés of fantasy novels he creates characters that are real in their motives and aspirations. Authors in fiction often have to compensate the ordinary events by creating heroic and extraordinary characters. Martin populates his extraordinary world with complex ‘grey’ and ordinary characters such as Jamie Lannister and Catelyn Stark.
Fantasy novels should take their place among the higher forms of literature, an honor that has long been due. Fantasy has been segregated to a minor phenomenon in popular culture for too long.
Yet, it’s possible that one day literary critics will look at our time as the era of utopian fantasies.
After all, Avatar and the Marvel franchises dominate box offices worldwide and fantasy books about vampires, little wizards and dragons are immensely popular. Fantasy share with utopias the aspiration for an escape, albeit impossible, to an alternate universe away from reality. The question is: what are we escaping from?
