More Thoughts on “Risking Delight”—Plus, “What If?” In The Context of Harry Potter
On Wednesday, I posted on “Risking Delight—The Awesomeness of Diana Wynne Jones & ‘Power of Three'” in which I said:
“When I closed the covers (of “Power of Three”), I felt thoroughly satisfied. Yet I also felt something more, something as important to me as a writer as it is as a reader. The US poet, Jack Gilbert, wrote (in ‘A Brief for the Defense‘) that: “We must risk delight.” On re-reading Power of Three I experienced delight both as a reader and as a writer reading another author’s work. This suggests to me, quite powerfully, that Diana Wynne Jones risked delight when she wrote the book — and that, I believe, is something all those who wish to be an author must do, every time we pick up our pen (or keyboard) and write.”
Since then I’ve been thinking some more about this in the context of a recent conversation around that perennial question: ‘What made the Harry Potter books so popular, first with kids and then with readers of all ages?’
Of course we would all love to know so that we could then replicate the phenomenon and the kerzillions. And of course we never will know, for sure, because there’s just a little bit of magic to success like that—an alchemy of the moment as it relates to both the story and its readers. In other words, even if one had the exact recipe, replicating it at any other time in space might not result in the same outcome. We all know this, I suspect, in our secret hearts, but it’s fun to speculate anyway and a great way to while away a rainy afternoon…
So we duly whiled… (Yes, it really is “while away” not “wile”—check it out if you don’t believe me.) And one of the aspects of Harry Potter that I mentioned, not necessarily as the ‘secret ingredient’ but simply as something that always struck me profoundly about the early books in particular, is the extent to which they include a sense of delight. In Harry Potter, the “risk” taken is also strongly connected to the delight of “What If?”
Have you ever noticed how often a group of kids together will say that? “What if?” “What if the world was not as we see it but rather like this, or this, or that?” It’s a kind of magic in and of itself, the magic of possiblity—and Harry Potter is full of it:
“What if there was a boy with a lightning bolt on his forehead and he lived in a cupboard under the stairs?”
“What if your mail came by owl?”
“What if there were a school for magic, not just normal old school, and you got your school supplies from a place as wonderful and mysterious as Diagon Alley?”
“And caught the train by rushing through a brick pillar onto Platform 9 3/4 in the middle of what is otherwise a perfectly normal train station?”
What if, what if, what if… And it’s all about delight—the delight of the unexpected and the magical in the middle of the ordinary and everyday, the affirmation that there really might be a little bit of magic still found in this world, not just by stepping through the camphor and fur coats of a wardrobe and into the otherland of Narnia…
Not a secret ingredient, since it is there for all to see, but part of the delight of Harry Potter nonetheless—and I suspect of fall the great children’s writers, not least Diana Wynne Jones.
That’s an interesting train of thought, Helen. I suspect that what Harry Potter did was to make it seem easy to exercise the most superficial parts of the imagination. Perhaps it did so by providing plenty of material and making it clear that the reader didn’t have to add much more. Whereas, say, a reader of Tolkien needs to bring to the table much greater imagination and a more literary mind. Harry Potter reaches down to meet the masses where they are. (One could say the same of Fifty Shades!) It’s entertainment rather than enlightenment. But then presumably the author set out to make money. Cleverly, she knew where to meet the greatest number of potential readers.
Do you really think that JKR started out just with the intention of making money? I am not so sure, because how could she have picked out that ‘winning formula’ any more than those since could replicate hers? My feeling is that she almost certainly started out writing what she loved, in hopes that it would find an audience, as most writers do… I certainly can’t & won’t argue against the scope of Tolkien’s imagination though. (And welcome, by the way, to “…on Anything, Really.” :))
From discussing with some well known, published SF authors in the states, there are “manufactured” bestsellers. A book is selected and then copies bought accordingly upfront with back door dealings. This is just the way some bestsellers work.
However, IMO, I don’t think the first Harry Potter book was manufactured for this purpose. Manufactured bestsellers fly high and fast and then die just as fast. Potter didn’t do this but maintained and continued to build momentum.
And WHP I think you are doing a huge disservice to both books. Comparing JRRT’s work which was built over decades and sold for an adult audience during the 1950’s and influenced by WWII to a book series published for CHILDREN in the 1990’s is silly.
JRRT’s opinion of his friend C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series was severe. Does that mean Narnia is no good? That Lewis wrote it to make money because he aimed to a youth audience? Different audiences and different purposes, do not mean that JKR was some sort of plotting mastermind writing a formulaic story to make millions.
Very interesting re the “manufactured” bestsellers (and is there a way to bottle that? 😉 ) Are there links to read about the phenomenon more or all just word of mouth?
And yes, I’ve read some of Tolkien’s comments on Lewis: the ones I saw basically added up to JRR finding CS’s world building too ‘frivolous’ and too much of a mythological/folklore melange, although both were Inklings.
My thoughts on the manufacturing (which actually came from one of the authors you have listed on your blog right but for privacy I won’t mention who) is that a publisher gets a story that they see is immediately very marketable and they push and promote it very hard over the other authors in their stable.
I could see that was the case with JKR – though I do not believe she deliberately manufactured a bestseller – if it was that easy, wouldn’t we all be doing that??
The reality is there will be some books that are vastly more marketable to a general audience then a book that, perhaps, deals with less popular subjects (i.e. gay characters in the story, minority characters as main characters, etc…)
Oh and something I do know about the book publishing business is that a book can become a bestseller based upon the pre-ordering done by the booksellers. For instance, I know of a book (not SFF) that hit the bestseller list the very day it came out… it happened because they were counting the numbers of books ordered by booksellers not individuals who bought the book.
When you looked at the books’ ranking on Amazon it had very few individual sales.
Devious isn’t it?
I don’t know what JKR’s intentions were, but I never found a “sense of delight” reading Harry Potter – whereas I did find it in Diana Wynne Jones, CS Lewis, Susan Cooper (“The Dark is Rising”) and many other children’s series that have had far less hype and made far less money.
My children did read Harry Potter and enjoyed them, but being well read, they were very capable of pointing out numerous flaws in the plots, editing etc.
Nonetheless, despite the flaws, there must have been something present in the story to draw all those readers in their millions… And although perhaps not as much the authors you name, I certainly enjoyed the early books, finding both a sense of fun as well as the delight of ‘what if” I’ve already mentioned. My experience of the flaws you mention came thorugh far more strongly in the later books, when they were very strong indeed and blunted my earlier experience.
The end to the Dark is Rising series (Cooper) completely ruined the story for me. Sorry. But again, Cooper wiped away the pain with a magic wand and everything was back to where it was for the majority of the characters.
Cooper (esp. the first in Dark), like Madeline d’Engle in her Wrinkle in Time, made the girl characters babysitters and little mother figures, for the boy characters who were the real heroes. While the boys got into trouble due to boys being boys, girls were to be the cautionary big sister who was filling in for mommy.
I understand the time frame these women were writing… but… Andre Norton treated us young girls reading fantasy far far better.
It is so long since I have read the “Dark Is Rising” series that I have forgotten the ending in The Silver on the Tree! But I recall that your observation re the girl characters gels with my recollection of the first book, “Over Sea, Under Stone” although in “Greenwitch” I recall Jane playing a more pivotal part. As aforesaid though, it’s been a while and my recollection may be faulty!
I recall liking the focus given to Susan in Alan Garner’s “The Moon of Gomrath”–my recollection is that she was the central character and not a quasi-mother figure, despite the era in which the book was published.
The Dark is Rising – The Grey King, won the Newberry (1975) so to answer up post, I don’t think it was unrecognized. I’ve found that series to be in print for most of the time since publication and that it is often recommended to a pre-teen/teen audience by teachers and librarians. I guess I don’t feel like it’s been living under a rock, unloved.
Greenwitch was a “how can I make the girl have an adventure but not do anything dangerous or alarming?” sop IMO. The heroine, Jane, still must conform to traditional women’s roles in order to win the day. She is completely unsupported throughout by her selfish brothers.
While I adore The Grey King, the ending to this series where the children: Jane, Simon and Barney, have their memories wiped of all their adventures to be one of the worst endings (right there next to the WMD of Ancient Light) I’ve ever encountered.
When you measure the Dark’s ending against C.S. Lewis’ Narnia, it was extremely disrespectful to the readers and the characters.
The Wrinkle in Time series gave me the same sickening feeling that watching an episode of Lost in Space gave me. These female characters would fit in well with programming the ships’ computer to make supper for the real astronauts.
You know, I’ve totally forgotten that ending to “The Dark Is Rising” series so now am wondering if I even read The Silver On The Tree, although I definitely read The Grey King. Of the series though, I still think The Dark Is Rising itself is my favourite–I found it very scary as a kid! (I say that like it is/was a good thing, which indeed it was.:) )
I certainly agree that it’s good to see increasing numbers of strong female protagonists coming through in contemporary fiction, but I also think it’s good to have a diversity of chaarcters and ‘takes’ on what consitutes “strength.” A few of my thoughts on that are encapsualted in a “Writing Strong Women” post I did on Mur Lafferty’s blog (reasonably) recently, here The diversity idea around what consititutes ‘strength’ is also one I’m working on in Book 3 of the WALL series right now… Suspect it may be a bone I’m going to gnaw on for some time though (vis a vis my conversation with WHP.)
I agree – women strength doesn’t have to be all healing spells or carrying a sword. Male characters also need more diversity. Another thing that irritates me about books is that all the characters seem to be in the same age range.
However, ruminating over this thread, it’s obvious to me that my childhood favorites written in the 1950’s by women who were born before 1920, are going to interest very few girl readers of today’s culture. I cannot imagine my 15 year old finding Jane’s adventure in Greenwitch exciting!
These books are showing their age and while might still gain readership, it’s time to be looking at new classics. JMO.
Harry Potter is the story that almost every kid wishes could be theirs. That they are special that there is a chance to be someone special. That there is a world beyond this one that we could get to if only we had the right wardrobe or knew where Platform 9 3/4 is. Harry’s story spoke to the child in most readers who always wanted to go to Narnia or Tesser with Meg or be one of the Old Ones like Will or get an owlpost with an invite to Hogwarts.
I do have to respectfully disagree with the ‘most superficial parts of the imagination’ comment. JKR’s stories were a delight in our household and the beginning of many an imagined adventure. My daughter who grew up along with Harry now plays Quidditch with a team in New York and she dances with a group that performs to Wizard Rock a style of music that was inspired by the JKR books. She is also a fan of LOTR and quite a few other wonderful books.
The books in which the author takes joy in the writing reflect that joy. There is nothing like the feeling of being a few pages into a book and knowing that ‘this is going to be a GOOD book’.
I think your initial comment may apply to the kid within us all…:) Amazing, too, that quidditch has become a real game!
In terms of writing reflecting joy, I do feel that it is very hard to write a book that is authentic and resonates with others from a purely commercial standpoint. I know of instances where people have tried to do, from Romance to ‘blockbuster action’, and all have failed miserably—I have always felt becasue readers detect the lack of authenticity, that there is no ‘heart’ in the writing. (This point probably links to my post of August 13, A Passion for Fantasy.)
I’m thinking back to my days as a wilderness guide in a remote mountain area. I’ve taken families around there for a week or two, their children breaking off one stick after another to make “magic wands”. They were so engrossed with that Harry Potter stuff that I wonder whether they even noticed the jagged mountain horizon, the rushing streams, wandering shepherds and the lumberjacks working with horses. Bear tracks and eagles were less interesting than “casting spells”. I have a horrible suspicion that the more cultish fantasy literature simply entertains rather than stimulating the imagination. Or maybe I should just accept that I am different in that I can make up my own stories, games and activities, invent characters and generally dream as I travel through more or less wild places?
I think it signicant that Tolkien, being interested in theology and rubbing shoulders with the likes of C S Lewis, understood pretty well the mechanics of the spiritual world and the workings of good and evil. Not too many other authors seem to grasp this. In that respect I see magic as a cop-out, a convenient trick placed into the hands of heroes and heroines to save themselves. Perhaps that is a little harsh of me? After all, in an agnostic world where “salvation” involves winning the lottery, spirituality isn’t going to be interesting. It’s the magic bullet that most of us hanker for.
You know, I think with kids impressions sometimes can be misleading. Kids are amazing multitaskers, from my observation, as well as being capable of total absorption, so simply becasue Harry Potter seized their imaginations to the extent that they were always acting it out in play doesn’t necessarily mean that they weren’t taking in the world around them at the same time. For example, when I was a kid living in Singapore, my siblings and I were constantly acting out stories we’d read in books or watched on TV, potentially to the exclusion of the real world around us–except that one of the influences I cite on the evolution of the Wall of Night is always the swiftness with which darkness fell at the equator and the way in which that also seized and worked upon my imagination. So as a kid I was doing both—playing and observing/experiencing.
As for magic bullets and winning lotteries, I am not sure there is anything new in that—the prevalence of fairy stories around illusory pots of gold and the many ways in wish magic wishes can misfire suggests that it is possibly as old as the human condition.:) So it is not surprising that it will creep into literature as well, both the fantastic and otherwise—although I would also say that dealing with magic not serving as a ‘magic bullet’ is what I suspect (since can only actually speak for myself) a large number of fantasy authors grapple with in trying to keep their stories grounded in a sense of the ‘real.’
With respect to “simply entertaining”, as a storyteller, perhaps my strongest conviction is that at the end of a day what I do has to be all about the story–if one wishes to moralise or instruct then that is the place of the pamphlet or tract. As a storyteller, if one is listening to the story then it may be that deeper themes creep in, but it may simply be that it is a story to make the listener or reader laugh or cry ‘in the moment’ and then move on. I personally don’t believe there is anything wrong with that: we all need to laugh and cry occasionally and then keep going on with the business of life. And Tolkien himself was, from what I have read, always very careful to stress that The Lord of the Rings was not an allegory: he wrote it because it was the story he wanted to tell. And what a great story it is—hugely influential for me and so many other readers.
The jury is out as to whether Harry Potter will endure in the same way, but from my own experience as a writer, I find it difficult to believe that Rowling was doing anything but sitting down to write the story she wanted to tell when she first began “Harry Potter & The Philosopher’s Stone.” What readers find in a story and how they respond to it is of course their choice, but I do feel we need to be careful not to say what an author may or may not have been trying to do or achieve, unless they have actually told us so themselves.
I have to say that I spent a large section of my childhood acting out Tolkien and pretending to be Gandalf 🙂 I think this is not a sign that a book is “just entertaining”, but is a tribute to the fact that a book touches something deep inside us and stimulates our imaginations to a great extent.
Thank you for your comment—and welcome to “…on Anythimg, Really” (a tag we may be acting out with this conversation.:))
That’s a really helpful and perceptive reply, Helen, thank you. It’s made me think about what I write and why, and the underlying influences. I grew up in an era when stories about WW2 were one of the main influences on boys, and that led to an interest in history. Many of my “what if?” questions relate to the different paths that history might have taken rather than how magic could have made a difference. In one sense we would have been better off reading a magical fantasy (i.e. not material that glorified the heroism within conflict), in another sense pure fantasy would have removed the reality a step or two further back. The LOTR can be bloody however I doubt whether it has produced many pacifists. (Anjd that is interesting not least because Tolkien did experience the horrors of WW1.)
Tolkien did point out that the LOTR was not an allegory for the world wars, in particular that Mordor and its forces did not mimic Germany. However he also commented that that one could find prototypes for the orcs throughout Britain. (One still can!) So I think that, yes, he was writing allegorically – but at a general rather than a specific level.
You’re right that, where magic can be used for good and evil, that makes it well worth giving a fair hearing. It extends the range of human action, making the tale all the wilder and more revealing.
Personally, I need my storytelling to fulfil a purpose – which is not to say that others must do this. It may be telling a moral tale, or the benefits may be internal – in some way cathartic or therapeutic. I do see a role for moralising, for instance I have an embryonic writing project set in Eastern Europe just after the fall of Communism. There is a need to tell the truth, even through the imagined eyes of an adolescent. As such you might deem me something other than a pure storyteller. To be honest, I would love to regain the innocence necessary (as I see it) to simply write a beautiful story that engages with readers. However I have seen too much that muddies the waters, tears the veil and scatters reason. How does one wind back the clock, metaphorically, to achieve purity and clarity?
I’m not meaning to start a long thread of comments, however it is interesting to talk. The acquaintance who recommended your blog did say that I would appreciate what you have to say.
I am glad you are enjoying the discussion, as well as finding the general level of the blog thoughtful.
In terms of your comments about ‘moralising’ and ‘telling the truth’ I do think there is a difference when it comes to storytelling. For me stories are all about ‘truth’, whether approached directly or ‘told slant’ in the words of Emily Dickinson. But that is not the same thing as ‘moralizing’, which (in my view) is when the storyteller intrudes into the narrative to ‘point the moral.’
A fellow NZ author (although not of either SF or Fantasy) Kate de Goldi, likes to say that all authors have their ‘bone’ (or perhaps more than one in some cases!) that we like to gnaw on through our writing. I suspect this may be true—but the gnawing works best (again in my opinion) when it works out naturally through the experiences of the characters and the evolution of the story, rather than heavyhanded underlining by the author. I will be honest and say that I like books with a moral centre, and can think of at least one author whom I stopped reading because I felt the characters and their actions veered between a celebration of the immoral to the downright amoral (and completely without consequence, too, although that’s a topic waiting for another blog post.) Nonetheless, I don’t enjoy being “instructed what to think” through the medium of fiction—which is the difference (in my book) bewteen a story that may contain ‘truth’ and one that moralizes.
Also, if as storytellers we want our stories to be ‘real’ and ‘ring true’, then it’s likely they will deal with subjects that are far from universally ‘beautiful’ or ‘pure’—which is part, I feel, of the sadness that imbues The Lord of the Rings. Again though, there is a big difference between telling stories that address hard topics, rather than glorifying violence and brutality for its own sake, which I feel a lot of fiction, not excluding Fantasy, currently does.
I like the concept of ‘having a bone to gnaw on’. I’m coming around to seeing just what my ‘bone’ is. It’s the story that I really, truly, deeply care about. That’s quite different to the tale that one would like to be successful in order to emulate a specific writer (or simply be ‘successful’ like them). As for ‘moralising’, well, that comes down quite what I mean by the word. On reflection, what I was thinking revolved around bringing issues into plain sight. That’s not telling people what to think. But it is saying, more or less clearly, ‘here are things about which you ought to think’. Obviously that’s material for some books and not others. I can’t help but think of Miklos Banffy’s ‘Transylvanian Trilogy’, beautifully written and raising powerful social topics. Then there are the Russian writers of Tsarist times. It’s the likes of Banffy, Tolstoy, Turgenev and Chekhov that really excite me.
Someone reminded me a few days ago of Gibbons’ analysis of the fall of Rome, whereby a sign of incipient terminal decline was what passes for ‘thought’ and ‘art’ and ‘expression’ homing onto the sexual, and all too often that part which is perverse. It is a temptation to follow the pack. I’m not sure how you would characterise NZ, however the British can be deeply repressed at a psychological level. The ‘release’ provided by eroticism comes as no surprise. I find it worryingly easy to write sado-masochistic material, but choose not to. I don’t want that to be my mark on society. It’s my moral choice.
Another aspect of finding that ‘bone’ is to create works that are uniquely ones own. I have been frustrated by agents who simply want more of this or that style – basically they want the next Rowling or whoever. Like lawyers they chase the easy money. Through greed they squeeze out the small writers and stifle talent. Against that background the only motivation to write, other than the egotism of agitprop, is to find a subject about which one is passionate. For me, I realise, that is the Balkans (I lived there for almost a decade) and not ‘fantasy storytelling’. I can produce a passable version of the latter, and it’s fun, but there is a lot of competition. I need to hold down a demanding job and look after my horses, dogs and cats, so quality time at a keyboard is at a premium. Against that background why write material that, however good it may be, one can send to every agent in the land fruitlessly?
WHP to write…is our marrow. I think Ms. Lowe has an earlier post about why she writes… and if we did it for the money we would certainly turn to drink or digging ditches for an easier life.
It’s frustrating to be refused by publishers. It’s why I just write for myself, for fun, though I recognize others have other needs to be satisfied. Realize though that many, many authors, have been refused by publishers. Rejection seems to be the stock in trade of the writer and the actor. It takes a lot of persistence and a thick skin to carry through.
BTW I’m your friend HI.
Hi Rabh, am laughing over “if we did it for the money we would certainly turn to drink or digging ditches for an easier life” and might even reverse it to say something like: “if we wanted an easy life then we wouldn’t write!”
There is a zen aphorism that is very apposite to writing: “The way is easy: keep going. The way is hard: keep going. Keep going.”
I honestly think writing is probably the single most difficult, challenging thing I have done in my life, on so many different levels, and the writing itself, the telling of the story, the only thing that even begins to compensate for the ‘costs’ — that and the occasional email, comment or letter illuminating that someone ‘out there’ not only enjoyed your story but actually “got” or “groked” it.
Or even, “here are topics that may repay thought” regardless of whether or not one “ought” to think about them…:) And very hard to argue against the writings of Tolstoy and Chekhov as works that repay the investment of time and thought.
Interesting obervation about art and sexuality, although even at the time Gibbons was writing (and in fact throughout history although the Victorian era is a ‘shining’ example of public prudery and private licence, including perversion) licence and perversion were present in society, just kept out of public view (i.e. society as a form of the Biblical cup and platter.) And in fact high levels of indebtedness in society and plague(s) are also considered to have played a major part in the ‘decline and fall’ of the Roman Empire.
As I indicated in my post A Passion for Fantasy and have alluded to in many other articles and posts, I think that it would be difficult to sustain oneself through the emotional and financial demands of the writing life if one did not have the desire to create works that are uniquely one’s own. And trust that if you are true to your muse then a ‘right path’ for your work will manifest. I hope that either is, or proves to be, the case for your Balkans work.:)
Hm I think that we, as a society, move like a school of fish. There are interests that seem to come confoundedly together for some bizarre reason that on the surface is inexplicable. For example, why is the image of owls gaining such popularity in design? Why is orange a hot design color? These things appeal to people, as a group, because our life as a society have shaped and produced such an interest as we evolve.
Sometimes a book comes along at a time when the world consciousness is ready for it. The Harry Potter series were such books. For whatever reason, young people were ready to read about a lonely orphaned boy who was trying to do good, even when the adults around him were doing evil. I found the first book charming, the subsequent books darker, and eventually stopped reading as did my two children – one in high school and the other in middle school.
As much as I like Diane Wynne Jones and adore some of her books to pieces, she never wrote anything as complex as Harry Potter (I’ve read she was upset with the JKR madness). In DWJ books, villains generally get off with a pat on the head and it reads with disingenuous naivete. Children of age 10 or above, living in today’s’ world may enjoy it for a read or two, but will find nothing of meat to help them understand the confusion of puberty, not belonging, of bullies, and of systems where adults, who control everything, are not to be trusted.
I’ve lived through the mid 1970’s when every book was about an elf, a bard and a disguised girl going on a quest after meeting in a bar…and the mid-1980’s when every fantasy book had a dragon on it…Now if someone would please, please tell me when we will be moving away from twinkly vampires I would vastly appreciate it.
You forgot to mention every other book in the 80s-early 90s period being a take on the Arthurian cycle as well.:) But I definitely agree with you about these things going in cycles. And while I don’t know if the day of vampires per se is yet past, you may take heart, I detect signs that sparkly vampire mania may already be waning.
I am not sure I entirely agree with you about Diana Wynne Jones. Yes, the majority of her work is junior fiction, but even so books like Cart & Cwidder, Drowned Ammet and Eight Days of Luke have some reasonably subtle messages about human nature and how society works, including the vagaries of adults, not excluding untrustworthiness. And a book like The Merlin Conspiracy, which is for a slightly older readership (as I recall) has some darker themes.
Before I write more, I want to state I admire DWJ’s bulk of work, own many copies, and re-read them. However, there is an element missing in her stories that is not missing in JKR Potter series and I think, from a readers’ standpoint, it is why Potter was so much more popular than Chrestomanci.
The main issue for me and spouse, who favors DWJ more than I, is how DWJ deals with evil. She doesn’t. Just a few examples to illustrate my point… In Charmed, Cat’s sister has literally sucked away multiple lives from her brother. Her punishment is to be sent to another dimension where she can be worshiped. The ending to The Pinhoe Egg was probably the worst I’ve ever read but is typical of DWJ’s Chrestomanci stories. Those that have committed sin, grief, and sometimes even murder, are sent to bed without their porridge.
If an author wants to write a fun romp, I have no problem with that. I’ve got plenty of fun romp books that I just adore. For every book there is an audience, and for every person there is a special author. However, don’t present evil to me and then sweep it under the carpet. It’s simply not satisfying to me. To paraphrase Miss Prism: “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”
This is the major flaw in DWJ’s work and why, IMO, it never gained the popularity that JKR’s Harry Potter did. While Potter grew darker as the arc unfolded, as JKR matured as a writer and had more to say, and her audience grew older, the evil she brought up with was satisfactorily dealt with.
I highly doubt that you will open a mysterious gate and kick the Swarm into it for them to take over another civilization… or that the Swarm is told they have been naughty and a 12-month mental block is put on them to be “good.” Or you could kill everyone off with a mysterious WMD in a blinding white light like Mary Gentle did in Ancient Light (and who I have never picked up again)
Well… I hope that none of those are your resolution. 🙂
Firslty, naturally there will be “no spoilers” (at all, at all!) re the outcome of the WALL series.
OK, that dealt with… 😉
I think Diana Wynne Jones has written so many books that one’s view may be formed by which selection you’ve read and/or are your ‘favourites.’ Charmed Life is definitely one of her weaker books that I have read and in fact I did not enjoy it greatly, but I do stand by my comments for the ones I mentioned in my previous response.
And I am also not entirely sure that I agree with Miss Prism, certainly not if fiction is to contain some element of ‘truth’, even at ‘slant.” When it comes to the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’, I am afraid I must prefer Tolkien where Gandalf said (something like) “many who die deserve to live (& vice versa) etc”, the implication being: and sometimes it can be dangerous to set yourself in judgement over that. In fact, that is one of the reasons Tolkien stands out for me, because he captures those shadings and subtleties in his work. Although he sets up Sauron/Mordor as a monolithic evil, there’s a great deal more shading when it comes to the other characters/species that rings ‘true’ for the reader and gives the story a (to date) enduring appeal. A yardstick to aspire to in my opinion, but “we’ll see…” I’ve talked a little about my thoughts around simplistic good/evil in other posts too, most notably my “Big idea” post when HEIR was first released in the US, here.
No spoilers please! LOL!
The ending of House of Many Ways (published 2009 vs. the Dalemark Quartet published in the mid 1970’s) is indicative of how DWJ begins a plot with evil yet doesn’t want her human characters to address it. The two villains are killed by an entity that isn’t human and it’s done quickly without any involvement or decision making on the part of Howl, Sophie, Calcifer, or Charmain.
While I liked the book, I immediately thought, hm typical ending by DWJ. I could quote the same issues with Archer’s Goon, The Merlin Conspiracy, even Dogstar, but my library is in another state and besides it would grow tedious.
My 15 year old daughter enjoys DWJ’s books (on the bookshelf bought by parents) but who does she read and buy? Rick Riordan, Christopher Paolini, JKR, etc… Why is that? DWJ herself lamented that her books didn’t have the sale numbers that JKR did. I think the difference is how her plots, while charming, are not as complex as current books being written for the teen market.
WHP wants to talk about formula but heck Charles Dickens did formula, Shakespeare did formula! Formula works! In any book, I could point out a cliche because what it really boils down with is how the author deals with the cliche (i.e. back to DWJ whose character Sophie laments she won’t have adventures because she is the eldest of three, not the youngest – Howl’s Moving Castle).
There’s an orphan boy in Harry Potter and there’s an orphan boy in The Name of the Wind (Rothfuss) and both show how a formula becomes unique and isn’t cookie cutter, auto-bestseller but yet they are bestsellers. It’s because these themes appeal to our group mind, influenced by 100’s of years of storytelling and they capture our imagination.
The “orphan boy” reminds me of the epic fantasy jest: “Is it a book about a farm boy, whether orphan or youngest son, who finds/inherits a magic sword and sets out with lovable animals companions to restore the family fortunes, falls in with a wise guide and a lovable rogue, rescues a princess and wins a kingdom? Yes? In that case, am pretty sure I’ve read it already!” 😀
But as I argued a while back, there is a difference between a trope and a cliche–& it all lies in what you do with the trope… (The post is here: “Tropes Not Cliches: More Thoughts On Making Epic Fantasy New & The Importance of Character.”)
I traveled the link and completely agree with what you wrote about good and evil. What might be confusing due to my posts here is what I mean by dealing with evil. Just punishing evil – walling them up, murdering them, torturing them, etc… is not what I expect by an author, although I wouldn’t necessarily have a problem with it if the hero dealt with the moral complexity of the act committed.
My expectation though is if you develop a protagonist who is doing some pretty nasty things (usually authors make a cardboard cutout and then prance them around the stage with no character development or reasoning etc…) and you just kill them that is pretty shallow writing. OTOH, if you develop this nasty character who has killed hundreds in the story, tortured characters, etc… and you do nothing… well where does that leave me as a reader? Twisting in the wind.
Recent publications, off the top of my head, is Rachel Neumeier in her Griffin Mage trilogy has done the best job so far in giving me a satisfactory resolution to the problems she brings up between her characters. I ended those stories and went YES!
The more a story has moral ambiguity, the less likely it will sell to a YA market. I’m not saying teens can’t deal with it – they do but only to a certain extent. YA readers have to have some security in what they are reading and JKR’s books ended with some of the beloved, main characters dying, sacrifices being made, and Harry have to deal with what his actions – but in the end, evil was vanquished.
As a parent, I will tell you that I don’t want my daughter reading R.M. Meluch’s books. There’s a real reason for that. She is not at an developmental state where she can process what is happening (tortured victim has his eye plucked out by villain and later becomes villain’s lover after the war is over). And neither do I want her reading anything by Jacqueline Carey (Kushiel series) for obvious reasons.
The more evil a character is without any given character depth, the more I need to see that evil vanquished. Where an evil character is not evil but a protagonist who has been developed, the more I (as a reader) can agree to other resolutions to the story than death as a means to an end.
In Carol Berg’s Song of the Beast there would have only been one way for the protagonist who betrays our hero to end: Death. The villainy was so dark that I would not have been happy with any other ending. Thankfully, he gets his comeuppance, whereas another protagonist gets redemption.
I hope that clarifies a bit about what I mean 🙂
I have to say, I don’t there is anyway anyone who walled another human being up alive could deal with the ‘moral complexity’ and call themselves a human being, in the sense of humane, let alone a “hero.” Just sayin’…
And I would not rule out that leaving the reader ‘twisting in the wind” may not be exactly the right ending for a book, depending on exactly what story it is one is trying to tell. Certainly the neat day/night approach, while satisfying at a certain level, would likely not encompass WHP’s story in a Balkan setting for example. And I would argue, should not be the automatic appraoch to writing Fantasy either, for the reasons put forward in my Big Idea post.
Am very interested on your view on teens, YA writing and moral ambiguity, because a great deal of what I’m reading in YA is very dark and full of moral ambiguity, ie not “secure” at all. But a writer like Garth Nix would argue that: “A good YA book, and pretty much all the successful ones, work from their entry reading age to any adult age. They have a particular attraction for young adults, usually because of a young adult protagonist, but otherwise are essentially adult novels, with no holding back of mature content, language etc” Am not sure if I have entirely made up my own mind on this point yet though—the jury may yet be out.
Overall though, I certainly understood what you were saying in your comment.
What’s interesting is that much Fantasy is based upon medieval societies. What were they doing in those times? Women held no rights including the right to their own bodies, people were burned alive, beheaded, walled up, put in baskets and sunk into bogs, had their house burned down around them while families were inside, drawn and quartered, keelhauled, justice was more about who could be bribed, etc… It’s only our 21st century mind who shies away from this violence which was common and accepted by the people.
Humane? We care about that today. No one cared about that 400 years ago. Even 120 years ago people imprisoned for debt in England were not FED; relatives outside had to pay for their food.
Given the right context, I might find it acceptable that a hero (maybe anti-hero), walls someone up alive and then later turns to drink and despondency because of what he did. It would depend on how the author set it up and the world they were operating within for it to be acceptable or not to me as a reader.
Patricia Briggs dealt with this in Dragon Blood where the heroine, holding information about a conspiracy, is brutally tortured in the beginning. Briggs doesn’t hold back from the reality and yes, it’s uncomfortable, and yes, I didn’t shed a tear when she killed her torturer.
But as I started this conversation, would I, reader, have been satisfied that her torturer was given a lollipop and told to go play with the other kids? Not likely after my heroine was gang-raped.
Yes, but WHP wouldn’t be writing his book for children.
Back to the moral ambiguity of YA stories. I completely agree that teens can deal with some of it, but authors are deluding themselves if they think they will get a large audience with books that don’t give a satisfactory ending. People are free to write what they want, but then, don’t complain when publishers are not interested and book sales aren’t good.
Can teens deal with the violence, moral ambiguity and sexual relationships that an adult reader can handle? Sorry, but that is simply not so. I allow my daughter a lot of latitude, as a teen as I was in the adult section by age 11, scanning for stories. However, I do not delude myself thinking she can handle some of the themes in the books I read and have told her explicitly which ones on my bookshelf are off limits.
My daughter just finished Kafka’s Metamorphosis and is moving onto the Tale of Two Cities in High School. Those books are fine, teens have the ability to be stretched in their reading, but I still wouldn’t want her reading Jacqueline Carey.
I’ve been a bit behind with my comment answering so have just gotten to this—and did have to smile, thinking: “Goodness, what a Lot of territory we have traversed since we began ‘rosking delight” with the re-read of a children’s book!” 🙂
You certainly share some interesting points of view and I shall look forward to returning to the historical riff next time I do an “historical influence” post. In the meantime though, you may find this SF Signal “Mind Meld” on “Monarchies in Fantasy” interesting (and I think there are some spin-off posts as well.)
RE: Garth Nix’s comments. I don’t doubt this is true but I would ask who is reading these stories? Probably older teens (16 and up), perhaps even adults looking for their next Twilight fix, and teens that should be better supervised.
I’ve already put a stop to my daughter buying whatever Manga book catches her eye. These graphic novel collections have ratings on the back for a reason and I enforce it just like I did with the games my son was buying when he was a teen.
If parents want to look the other way while their child is fed graphic violence and sexual content, that’s their business. But trust me, those authors won’t be getting my daughter’s allowance money.
I agree that I love Tolkien’s stance on individual choices and integrity, and the importance of avoiding judgment and looking for the inner depths. But the *author* has a duty beyond that to the fabric of the story. What makes Tolkien so satisfying to me is that evil is vanquished (although not without loss and pain) and those who do evil end up paying for it. Gollum was not wholly evil, and the possibility of redemption was always there; but in the end he did die. Boromir gave in to temptation and acted wrongly; he redeemed himself but it was through sacrifice.
DWJ’s stories are delightful and I continue to reread them occasionally, but I have come not to expect this same level of satisfaction from her work. Evil is often done and the evildoers are seldom really punished. I can applaud the moral virtue of her characters who are so generous, but as a story it leaves me unsatisfied.
Interesting thoughts, thanks, Rabh. One has to examine motives: I do write for a living and make money from it, but technical and commercial material plus a couple of textbooks. Not so much heroes dealing with good and evil so much as a narrative about performance, quality, value and risk. I want to branch out and write more creatively, and woud like to be recognised for it. Therein lies the risk: a desire to satisfy the ego. Yes, I may be tainted by the ethic of the industry in which I work. Simply enjoying writing for its own sake might wash away the corruption. I hope so.
Pleasure might also trump frustration: chiefly that publishers are chasing the big money, seeking just a few ‘products’ that sell in volume, then ‘bigging-up’ those ‘products’ so that every consumer wants the same thing which can be sold by the million. They have squeezed out most of the rest of us who want to make things that are good and beautiful. ‘Don’t create, just consume’, they cry. Well, isn’t that a metaphor for the whole Western edifice where people manufacture next to nothing and have been brainwashed into buying the latest fad without which we ‘cannot be happy’? (Look about the subway here, every second passenger – adult and teenager – is reading an ill-written celebration of sadomasochism written by a woman badly in need of therapy.) Against such a background enjoying creating of one’s own free will is a very satisfying subversion indeed.
It’s curious to think about that progression from elves via dragons to vampires. The underlying drivers are fascinating: I see vampires as a metaphor for the erotic, which seems to be projecting ever further into the open. (A period of time as a tour guide taking goth groups to Dracula’s castle was an eye-opener!)
So, yes, something to gnaw into. The Balkans where, incidentally, life has ever looked as if evil goes unpunished. Writing about that region is to hold up the unpunished evil that too many people there brush under the carpet as ‘too difficult to solve’ or simply ‘what people do’. (Even Banffy had one evildoer murdered and another commit suicide in shame: nowadays one doesn’t see such mettle.) The trick, presumably, will be not to moralise but to tell a believable, engaging story that makes people think. A book that doesn’t make me think fails to hold my attention for long. Making other people think, to me, is a worthwhile aim.
With regard to the Balkans, do you think the “too difficult to solve” response could be why the ills perpetuate through the generations?
But with respect to “The trick, presumably, will be not to moralise but to tell a believable, engaging story that makes people think” — I think that may be the “only” trick. It also occurred to me that what we have been discussing is—to an extent at least—that hardy writing perennial “show don’t tell.”
I think we have to enjoy the writing for its own sake though, because everything else about it is uncertain and ephemeral. The writing itself is the only touchstone.
I wonder, in the context of this conversation, how Diane Duane’s So you want to be a wizard will stack up. She’s re-releasd the first volume, both as it was, and as an updated “millenium” edition. The fact she did the latter was the inspiration for my newest SF Signal Mind Meld. Still not sure how I feel about authors revisiting works in that manner.
Paul, I’ve heard good things about the original “So You Want To Be A Wizard” but I haven’t read it myself. In terms of the revisiting, I have to say that I have quite an animus against it myself, but that may just be a quirk in my writer’s ‘gallop.’ The reason for the quirk is that I believe works should stand as a testament to one’s craft at the time the book was written, so readers may best evaluate one’s oeuvre, I suppose… But also, a lot of updates I’ve seen haven’t necessarily been an improvement (in my subjective opinion.)