Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10.1 6/24/83; site druri.UUCP Path: utzoo!linus!philabs!cmcl2!seismo!columbia!topaz!packard!ihnp1!ihnp4!drutx!druri!dht From: dht@druri.UUCP (Davis Tucker) Newsgroups: net.sf-lovers Subject: THE PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE FICTION TODAY, PART IV Message-ID: <1095@druri.UUCP> Date: Sat, 1-Jun-85 23:34:24 EDT Article-I.D.: druri.1095 Posted: Sat Jun 1 23:34:24 1985 Date-Received: Mon, 3-Jun-85 04:39:43 EDT Organization: AT&T Information Systems Laboratories, Denver Lines: 113 THE PROBLEMS OF SCIENCCE FICTION TODAY PART IV: Fantasy, Or How To Hack A Hobbit And Build A Balrog In One Easy Lesson by Davis Tucker _____________________________________________________________________________ Whether we want to admit it our not, science fiction includes fantasy, though given the preponderance of fantasy titles on the shelves, the casual viewer might wonder which is the baby and which is the bathwater. Fantasy has long been to science fiction as science fiction has been to mainstream literature: I think we can all draw the comparison. But fantasy has its own problems and faults and foibles, many common with science fiction, many unique, and these are dragging it down into a muck of mimicry and mediocrity, where once again the same old themes get repeated time and time again. What's even more annoy- ing about fantasy is that much too often, the same *characters* get repeated from author to author. I've lost track of the number of Gandalf clones I've come across, the hordes of Hobbit lookalikes, elves and trolls, etc., and of course what is most odious and just plain silly, the squadrons of stupid dragons that seem to jump from every page whenever an author paints himself or herself into a figurative corner and has to throw a reptilian red herring across the reader's face... grrrrrrr. Had J. R. R. Tolkein known what he was spawning when he wrote his books, good English gentleman that he was, he most likely would have burned every one of them rather than perpetrate upon the world the monstrous assault upon good taste that has arisen in the wake of his success. Just as if Dr. Frankenstein had seen into the future, to see what he was going to unleash... Tolkein's works are finely crafted, well-written, and show an understanding of that element of mythos which is essential to good fantasy. It is not enough in fantasy to build a delightful escapism from the real world of meter maids, Type A behavior, and taxes. You have to do something with it. And precious few of his imitators have bothered to understand and explicate that gut-level need in every human being for good against evil and magic against all with any more subtletly and finesse than a Ginsu knife commercial. What distinguishes good fantasy from the mediocre? The same thing that distinguishes good literature from mediocre literature of any kind. The additional factors are interest, environment, mythic consistency, and probably most important, the ability to inspire in the reader that willing suspension of disbelief which is so necessary to any fiction, but vital to fantasy. What is usually lacking in the fantasy novels ground out today is readable dialogue and character motivation, which go hand-in-hand with silly plots. Why is it that every fantasy novel is about some quest for a magic sword or a magic rock? Why is it that every fantasy novel has a wizard who's a little scatterbrained and a little malefic, but who's still a good guy? And various little characters who prance and gambol about his feet and end up getting the job done under impossible odds (and usually without much food, either). The traditional plot-line seems to go as follows - protagonist is enjoying/hating his daily life in some paradise/hell. Protagonist discovers secret sword/manuscript, or alternatively it comes into his hands from some wizard/old crone. Protagonist decides, "hey - let's go on a quest, guys!" and gathers together a company of friends or acquaintances or magical beings (notice that the "company" idea is always used). After this, they run afoul of the bad guys and lose a few buddies and have a few swordfights, get lost in some caves, and use their magical resources. The wizard usually gets lost around this point, going off to fight some battle of his own, thus pounding the point home that good deeds can be accomplished without magic. Well, a lot of stuff happens, a lot of fancy fairy palaces get described, and our protagonist and his pals finally get to the end of the trilogy and have a climactic showdown and get the magic sword and then everybody lives happily ever after except if you want to write a second trilogy, in which case you leave the bad guys alive. Subtlety is thrown out the window. It is a rare fantasy novel indeed which introduces a fair amount of grey area between good and evil, which concerns itself with that fine gradation which makes some of us heroes, some of us good men, some of us cowards and malcontents, some of us fanatics, some of us inscrutable. If you've ever read the original Brothers Grimm tales, you'd see that it is precisely this balance and dichotomy in each person's soul which is so wonderfully exhibited, and what makes them so challenging and disturbing. In much of ancient mythology, this greyness, this almost exist- entialist world of petty gods and danger at every door, is put forth with more power and beauty and humanity than most fantasy today. Jason wasn't exactly the nicest guy in the world, and Ulysses had some serious problems himself. Happy endings do not always, and should not always occur. Fantasy is not exempted from dealing with inevitable truths just because it's make-believe. Homer did all this thousands of years ago, and without a wizard. You'd think somebody would have improved on at least the basic plot outline in that time. The Brothers Grimm did a damn good job. "Pinocchio" has more meat and substance and mythical elements than the Darkover novels. Once again, as with science fiction, the readers and authors have entered into this incestuous relationship that perpetrates infinite loops of the same story. The Thomas Covenant books started off with promise, and an interesting premise - that a leper is fundamentally different in his world-view from you and me. But fifty pages or so into the first book, the ten warning signs of mediocre fantasy start screaming at you. Giants, evil wizards, etc., etc., etc. And by the time you finish the first three, there's this horrible realization that this is a story that can and will go on forever. And that you will continue to watch the English language be butchered and bent for no purpose, and that you will read the word "rue" on every page. It seems that especially in fantasy, even more than in science fiction, that nobody knows when to call it quits, take the money and run. Every author seems to go to the well once too often, because it takes less work to put old characters through the same old paces than it does to come up with someone and something new. Fantasy suffers from cuteness these days, a horrible terminal cuteness best exemplified in Robert Athprin'th "Lithp Myth" books. It also suffers from being trite. Without a raised standard for fantasy writing, instead of such drivel as "The Sword Of Shannara" held up as a shining light, dire consequences will result. Even the worst of Michael Moorcock is better than this insult to the intelligence. For every fantasy novel like Orson Card's "Hart's Hope", we have a thousand like "Camber The Heretic". Well, that's all for today. Tune in next week for "THE PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE FICTION, PART V: Rays Of Hope Through The Clouds Of Despair".