Upon further reflection, I'll go even further and say that it isn't just SFF readers who are capable - and willing - to suspend disbelief in implausible premises. After all, there are any number of mainstream novels with highly implausible premises - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay or Possession, for example. What matters is that the author proceed from that premise in a plausible manner.
I'll also point out that forgiving anachronisms or bad characterization on the grounds that a book is SFF comes dangerously close to the 'a wizard did it' defense.
Not having read the book, I have no opinion on F&N, but I have to disagree with your general statement, Mitch. Most of us compartmentalize our disbelief when we read. Suspending disbelief in magic, aliens, superhuman powers, or any other SFF trope is easy, if only because we've grown accustomed to it. Suspending disbelief in bad characterization, anachronisms, and characters who hold political views far too progressive for their eras is a different, and far more difficult matter. A book doesn't have to have a plausible premise, but it does have to be internally consistent - without that consistency, the narrative spell is broken, and the reader can't connect to the text. I think most readers, regardless of genre preference, are looking for that kind of plausibility.
If you don't like one, try another.
It was following this dangerous maxim that got me reading more than one book by Jonathan Carrol and Jeffrey Ford. I've learned my lesson. I almost never give up on a book while I'm reading it, but I see very little reason to give an author who's disappointed me once another chance, when there are so many other authors out there waiting for their first chance.
Xopher, it's hard for me to think of Farscape episodes in discrete units, since that show was heavily into character continuity and multi-episode arcs. Watching one episode, or catching them sporadically, is a great way to make sure you won't get its attraction (plus, I missed most of the first season). In general I see the way wormholes are treated in Farscape to be tantamount to magic. The knowledge is placed in Crichton's brain without him doing anything to reach it. In order to decipher it, he has to perform the equivalent of a mystical search. When he finally achieves power over wormholes, it is almost as if he's developed a sixth sense about them - he even says the he can smell them.
Most of the rest of Farscape is a space war story, albeit with our heroes on the sidelines. I have a hard time accepting space war as predominantly SF, because it's clearly a case of a writer wanting to tell a story that they can't set on any familiar world, so they need to invent a new one. Why should it matter that they set their war on the planet Arrakis instead of on Middle Earth?
Elizabeth, I wasn't aware of trying to help or hinder anything. This a free-form discussion that veered way off its original topic. I expressed an opinion (perhaps a little stridently). Others objected or requested clarification, I obliged, and so on and so forth. We're probably not going to come to a conclusion, and even if I convince anyone we're not going to go to a bookstore and start relabeling all the books. As far as I'm concerned, this debate isn't about how anything should be shelved. Of course you're going to put Harry Potter on the fantasy shelf (even though it really belongs in the children's section, but that's a whole 'noter kettle of fish) and Farscape in the SF aisle. Superficially, they feature elements of those respective genres. I'm trying to make the point that those superficial distinctions are, well, superficial, and of only limited use when discussing the themes and ideas of these works.
I prefer to discuss genre according to themes. You can call this reductionist, but it seems to me that insisting that a narrative that takes place in space has to be science fiction and nothing else is just as reductionist and that, given the paucity of plots and the vast and ever-increasing quantity of physical settings, my approach might be more useful. I'm not sure what you mean when you say that genre should be defined by group experience. That's a good attitude when it comes to shelving things, but how helpful is it in a discussion? I'm not King of the World, and I don't want anyone to stop calling Farscape science fiction, but I would like to raise the possibility that it carries stronger thematic similarities to the fantasy genre. Whether I convince anyone depends on the merit of my argument and on how well I present it, but I don't see doing so as being 'unhelpful'.
Xopher, I went back and took a look at an episode list for TNG. It's been ages since I sat down and thought about that show, and as it turns out I'd call most of it SF. It came before the newfangled fascination with character continuity and multi-episode arcs, so it's essentially an anthology show, and most of the stories are what I'd call science fiction. Two good examples are "Justice" - Picard has to decide whether to save Wesley after the kid breaks the law on an alien planet (did you know that Roddenberry originally planned for Wesley to be Picard's kid? We sure dodged a bullet there) - and "The Inner Light" - a dying civilization comes up with a unique way of preserving their culture. There are plenty of others. I haven't had time to take a serious look at the DS9 episode list, but for most of their later seasons they were telling your standard space war story, so I should probably concentrate on the earlier seasons.
Farscape, meanwhile, can be most accurately described as an "Innocent Abroad" story. This is one of the staples of modern fantasy (Neil Gaiman uses it in Neverwhere, Stardust and even a little in American Gods, China Miéville uses it in King Rat, and it's one of the more important plot threads in John Crowley's Little, Big), and it differs from your basic Joseph Campbell narrative in one important detail. The innocent is a rational, modern human, who is thrust into an irrational world and is taken over by it. The society Crichton enters in Farscape is your basic D&D coterie, complete with a warrior, a mage/healer, a thief and a trader (we could say the same thing about Babylon 5: Crusade, except that they actually went so far as to call them a thief and a mage).
The Farscape episode I watched with my brother yesterday, by the way, involved an immortal vampire who lives on fear, whom the crew had previously vanquished. He pulls himself together from dispersed atoms and places a magic painting in Chiana's possession. The painting tells the future, showing each of the crew members dying in their turn. As they die, they are trapped in the painting, until Zhan can defeat the vampire and get them out. Remind me again how this is SF?
Lenny, I realize this is an easy mistake to make, but I haven't insisted that Farscape isn't SF, or that Harry Potter isn't fantasy, because I don't like them and want to reduce my favorite genres to only good works. I love the Harry Potter books. I love Farscape (can't wait for Peacekeeper Wars). I loved the non-sucky parts of Babylon 5 (most of seasons 2-4). For the nth time, I'm not trying to get anyone to toss these works off their respective shelves, but merely to look a little deeper.
It's late and I'm tired and there's too much here to address in a drive-by post, so I'll just say a few short things.
Xopher wants to know what shows I consider science-fiction. Futurama (and instead of explaining why, I'll just point you here), certain episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (hell, maybe even Voyager. I never watched it long enough to find out). Most of the genre shows I see on TV aren't what I'd consider SF, at least not primarily.
Despite this, I don't think of myself as a splitter (although, if I were, would that be a bad thing?). I'm trying to make the point, possibly not very well, that the fact that a narrative displays the superficial trappings of a certain genre doesn't exclude it from possessing underlying qualities of several other genres, and that those qualities might be more important to the fundamental meaning of the piece than the superficial plot elements. Cryptonomicon is a good example. It takes place in the present (the past, now) and features no futuristic technology. And yet, I wouldn't call it anything but science fiction, because it deals with the effects that technology has on society. The fact that that technology - computers - exists today is beside the point. It's the same reason that The Handmaid's Tale is science fiction, despite having no technology whatsoever.
Alexander, the Sci Fi channel is where you can watch shows like The Dead Zone and the upcoming miniseries Earthsea. I wouldn't consider placement on that channel to be a definitive proof of anything except an association with SFFH.
Elizabeth, I assume that my writing comes with an invisible rider that attaches 'in my opinion' to everything I say. I'm well aware that I'm expressing minority opinions (and if I hadn't been I think I would have caught on by now) but I don't see how that should affect me. I don't expect Xopher to stop thinking of Farscape as SF just because I argue otherwise (unless I manage to convince him of it). My own perceptions of genre obviously differ from that of most other commenters on this thread, but it doesn't follow that I should abandon those perceptions, except where to use them might confuse others.
Avram, Gethsemane is, I think, the exception that proves the rule. And it might not have been if it weren't for Brad Dourif elevating his character above Straczynski's appalling lines and the general melodrama of the episode.
Patrick:
What I keep coming back to as I read some of the rather formalist arguments some people are making here is that genres aren't about their overt content, they're about their effects.
I don't know if this was intended at me, but I couldn't disagree more, and I had a perfect example of why not long after I finished my previous comment, when my brother and I plopped down in front of an old episode of Farscape.
I've never been able to convince myself that Farscape is science fiction. The same holds true, and even more so in fact, for Babylon 5. The worst episodes of that show were the semi-annual occasions in which Straczynski (I had to search IMDb to see if I spelled that right, and it turns out I only missed one letter!) remembered that his show was set in space and decided to take a crack at a genre story (scientologists in space, anyone?). To paraphrase Dan, these two shows were a soap opera, and a political/military saga that happened to be set in space. Neither one is concerned with questions of technology, the development of society, alien cultures, how technology, the development of society, or encounter with alien cultures affects human life, or any of the other fundamental questions of science fiction. I'd have an easier time accepting both of them as fantasy (I once managed to prove to myself that Babylon was essentially LOTR in space, with no magic ring and the roles of Gandalf, Aragron and Frodo combined into one person) no matter how many science fiction effects they might feature.
By the same token, the fact that Harry Potter features wizards doesn't automatically make it fantasy. What you put into your story isn't as important as what you do with it.
Pericat, of course Harry Potter features characterization and setting, but I wouldn't say that either one is the point of the series. The books aren't a character exploration or an exercise in world-building. Alexander makes a good point when he talks about Nazism. The wizard world in the books is very reminiscent of pre-War England, with the attendant breakdown of aristocratic systems, upheaval in government, and the rising lure of fascism (someone once pointed out to me that the Black sisters, Sirius' cousins, form a direct parallel to the Mitford sisters. One of them was the wife of a prominent right-wing English politician, another married a Nazi and killed herself before the war ended, and a third was a socialist). We could almost call the books an allegory. As Teresa pointed out with regards to Shakespeare, it's a story that could be lifted and transplanted to many other settings, but I don't think it's a fantasy at its core just because it happens to be set in a fantasy setting this time.
I'd like to take time to respond thoughtfully to both of you, but right now I must dash. I'll just say that I'd like to know what you think the core of the Harry Potter books is, if it isn't the plot (yes, Rowling is trying to deal with questions of choice, bigotry and free will, but it's the plot that illuminates these questions). Dan suggests that readers return to the books to immerse themselves in Rowling's fantasy world. That's possible, but it hasn't been my reaction. Rowling's world is well-crafted, but it's no Middle-Earth, no Bas-Lag or Ambergris. Those are the places I'd return to simply for the pleasure of soaking up their atmosphere, and I don't think Rowling's fantasy world stacks up. Others' mileage may vary.
I'm swear I'm not being contrary here, Teresa, but it never occurred to me to think of Buffy as fantasy. Horror, maybe, but never fantasy.
But I actually think the comparison between Buffy and Harry works in my favor. In both series, the protagonist is born into our world, but possesses strange magical powers which separate them from the rest of us. In Buffy, however, that special power is the point of the series. The one theme that continued to recur throughout the series (long after the 'high-school is hell' metaphor was dropped) was the question of how an abnormal person could live a normal life. Buffy's power separated her from her family, her friends, her lovers and her humanity. Her life was about the struggle to hold on to these things. She only succeeded by changing the world - making her abnormality normal.
Harry's innate ability, on the other hand, is treated by Rowling as downright ordinary. He's one of thousands of wizards, one of hundreds of Hogwarts students. Some of them are more talented than others, but all of them possess magical power, and take it completely for granted. After the first few chapters of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry becomes practically jaded. His magical studies are neither solemn nor of great importance to him - he'd prefer goofing off with his friends to learning how to transform a hedgehog into a pincushion. Harry doesn't strive to be normal because he perceives himself as normal - a normal teenage wizard. The things that make Harry special within the wizard world have very little to do with his magical powers. They are the circumstances of his birth, his ancestry, and most importantly his personality. This was the point A.S. Byatt missed in her infamous takedown of the series in the NYT last summer. The magic in Harry Potter is ordinary! She wailed. Well, yes. What's your complaint?
Scott and Teresa mistake me, however, when they suggest that the very presence of non-fantasy elements such as the boarding school setting causes me to reject categorizing the books as fantasy. It's the importance of those elements, versus the importance of fantasy elements, that leads me to my conclusion. Despite what Avram and Rachel believe, I do think it would be possible to transplant the books outside of their fantasy setting (into an X-Men environment, as Avram suggests). Removing the story from a boarding school, however, would be almost impossible without completely re-plotting the series, as Rachel put it. I just don't see the fantasy elements as being that important to the plot.
Take the two novels I mentioned earlier, Richard Morgan's Altered Carbon and David Brin's Kiln People. Both could easily be categorized as detective novels - they feature futuristic detective investigating a murder. The point of these novels, however, the fundamental question, as Alexander puts it, is definitely a science-fictional one. Brin and Morgan create worlds in which technology has changed the meaning of individuality, personhood, and the connection between mind and body. In order to explore these worlds, they examine the greatest offense one human being can offer another - murder. What does murder mean when the creature you're killing is nothing but a copy of someone else, or when they're moving in someone else's body? The detective plot moves the story along, but the point of both novels is the examination of the effects new technology has on society - the most fundamental question of science fiction. So, while it would be clearly strange to insist that either novel isn't a detective story, it's not the first category I would place them in.
Rachel has a good point when she says that the series straddles several genres. In fact, I suspect that's one of the main reasons for the books' enormous appeal - everyone can find something in them. Dan reads them because they've got wizards in. I prefer the mysteries and Rowling's gentle ribbing of the English school system. I probably shouldn't have used the definitive statement 'Harry Potter isn't fantasy' (Stephanie and Xopher are right when they point out that sometimes ten words are better than one) but instead said 'Harry Potter belongs less to the fantasy genre than it does to other genres' (and how is it that we've managed to get so far into the conversation and have no one point out that the books belong in the children's book genre? If this were a group of Potter fans, it would have been the first response, and probably precipitated a flame war). My original point was that to use Potter as a yardstick for the appeal of fantasy to non-genre readers is an iffy proposition, and I still stand by it.
I'd like to assume, before I write any more, that no one on this thread suspects me of being a self-hating fantasy reader any more. I'd also like to assume that everyone now understands that I was simply confused by Patrick's use of the term 'genre fantasy' to encompass the entire fantasy genre, not just the Tolkien-derivative parts of it. Feel free to let me know if I'm wrong in either of these assumptions, although I can't promise to respond.
That said, Calimac opined:
Harry Potter's fantasy trappings are not much more than that, and it wouldn't take that much change to remove them. But that doesn't make it extraneous that the books are fantasy: I believe that's a large part of their appeal, however superficial the fantasy elements may be.
Do you mean to say that the books appeal to people because they're a sort of "weak" fantasy? That's a little like something my mother mentioned to me today. She thinks that the appeal of the books (and the possible appeal of Clarke's Strange & Norrell) has to do with the placement of supernatural elements in a normal contemporary setting, where magic is neither remarkable nor surprising. I'm not so sure how I sit with this idea. There are massive quantities of fantasy novels that posit the same situation - almost all the urban fantasy sub-genre, for starters. Is it possible that the Potter books are a good primer for readers who might be interested in these books? That they contain enough non-fantasy elements to appeal to readers who aren't comfortable in a strictly fantastic setting? It's something to ponder, at any rate.
We could have a long, involved discussion about how (or even whether) to categorize a novel that exhibits strong elements of more than one genre. I still feel that the fantasy elements of Harry Potter are nearly incidental, although I can see how my suggestion that a series which features magic and wizards isn't fantasy might have struck some readers as absurd. I certainly wouldn't try to introduce someone to the genre by giving them Harry Potter, any more than I would give Richard Morgan's Altered Carbon or David Brin's Kiln People to someone who wanted to get into reading detective novels.
Alexander, I like your idea of looking at books through the questions they ask, although I think you may be generalizing with your three questions. China Miéville, I think, seems to be asking questions about the relationship between the individual and society. In both Perdido Street Station and The Scar (I haven't read The Iron Council yet) society is treated almost as a living organism, one which often consumes its inhabitants. The main crux of his novels seems to be, does the very existence of a civilization excuse it from acting morally? Is it better to tolerate an evil society or to live with neither the benefits nor costs of civilization? Armada and New Crobuzon are vicious, destructive societies, and yet the heroes of both novels act with endless self-sacrifice to protect them.
Heresiarch:
It sounds like the thing that's really concerning you is being identified as someone who reads "genre fantasy," a label you'd rather avoid (based, from what I can gather, on your impressions of the books' covers). You're afraid that if people think Harry Potter is "genre fantasy," you'll get cooties.
I'm sorry, I just find it quite funny that someone would assume that I would be embarrassed to be seen reading the Harry Potter books because they are fantasy novels and not, as is more common, because they are children's books (and, by the way, there have been plenty of discussions about their placement in that genre as well). As it so happens, I publicly read books of both genres, although not so much 'genre fantasy' (as I define it. That is, Tolkien-derivative fantasy) because it doesn't appeal to me. I've never been hassled for reading any of them, by the way, although a guy did once exclaim in horror when he saw me pull out a copy of Daniel Deronda.
Abigail, your assertion that Potter "most certainly" can't be genre fantasy because it is not Tolkienesque would make China's head explode because it is a complete surrender of the genre to the tide of derivitave crap.
1. I did not assert that Potter is not fantasy because it isn't Tolkienesque. If you'll go back and read my original comment, or the clarifying comment I wrote just a few hours ago, you'll see that I mentioned that Potter isn't Tolkienesque as an aside. I believe, as I've said at least twice already, that Potter isn't fantasy (or at least not primarily) because the fantasy elements in the books are not as important to the development of the plot as the elements that come from other genres.
2. As I was saying to Patrick. I connect the phrase 'genre fantasy' with the sword and sorcery, buxom women on the cover, endless series of door-stoppers tradition. I've heard that sub-category of fantasy referred to as 'genre fantasy' on more than one occasion. It might very well be that the moniker represents a sad truth about the perception of fantasy, but I think it's also fairly accurate, in terms of percentages. Most of the fantasy I see on the shelves in bookstores, or online on Amazon, falls in the above category. That other, more innovative forms of fantasy exist doesn't change the fact that they are a minority. Miéville's problem is with the reality of the genre, not with its perception.
Patrick, I think I've confused both of us in my interpretation of the term 'genre fantasy' as opposed to 'the fantasy genre'. When you spoke of Harry Potter appealing to readers who didn't read genre fantasy, I connected the term to Robert Jordan, Terry Brooks and their ilk. The Harry Potter books, however they might be classified genre-wise, do not treat their fantasy trappings in the same way that these books do, which is why I objected to classifying them as genre fantasy. I see that you might have meant that the books appeal to people who don't read books in the fantasy genre. Either way, I still feel that the fantasy elements in Harry Potter have at best a tertiary importance to the plot - my objection to categorizing them as 'genre fantasy' was only an aside - and that while they could be classified as fantasy novels, it isn't that quality about them that appeals to so many readers.
I might also go on to observe that either publishers are wicked because they never devote promotional efforts to unknown authors, or they're wicked because they do promote unknown authors thus subjecting those authors to the dreadful risk of being perceived as "overhyped."
Clarke's publishers aren't just promoting her. They're selling her as the next J.K. Rowling. And you haven't addressed my point about the difference between promoting a novel - to the reading public - on the basis of its merits and promoting it on the basis of the amount of money its publishers are willing to throw at it. Neither one makes Clarke's publishers wicked (although it wasn't me who complained about publishers not getting behind their books) but the latter makes me uncomfortable.
As for Tolkien's covers, The Lord of the Rings has had some wild covers in its day - I wouldn't be surprised if some of them did feature half-clad women!
Because I'm wrong, or because I'm right?
I don't think Tolkienist fantasy is the only way to go - Miéville is a great example of fantasy that isn't merely a shadow of Tolkien, but there's also Peake, Crowley, Gaiman, Pratchett and many others. However, the books most readers think of when they think of the genre are the endless series of Tolkien impersonations, with dragons and scantily-clad women on the cover. As much as I love Tolkien, his influence on the genre is regrettable - he's taught several generations of readers (and writers) that fantasy means something like The Lord of the Rings. In my original comment, I was pointing out that the fantasy elements in Harry Potter aren't the ones you'd expect to find in genre fantasy (or possibly, they are the same elements, but their treatment is very different).
That's interesting about Perdido Street Station. I had no idea there had been so much hype surrounding it. I read it based on recommendations by others, and because I liked King Rat. I wouldn't say that the hype hasn't survived though. We can hardly expect the publishing house to keep pushing the book four years after it came out (they might want to focus on Miéville's newer novels, for one thing) but PSS has become a modern classic of the genre.
Calimac, have you read Tim Powers' The Anubis Gates? It's a great, intelligent fantasy that takes place in early 19th century England.
Sorry, I forgot to add this:
When I wrote "Bloomsbury announces that the book is 'backed by a huge marketing and publicity campaign', that the foreign language rights have been sold to 19 countries, or their decision to publish 250,000 hardcover copies", I neglected to mention that I only learned the last of those facts from the NYT article. The first two I read on the book's official website, and the first I learned in what looks like a one-page ad available to download from that site. The ad also includes a description of the book's plot - below the line about a huge marketing campaign, which is in letters just a little bit smaller than the title. The text of the plot description, meanwhile, is so small that I could barely make it out on my computer screen.
It's possible that this ad is intended for bookstore buyers. In that case, why is it on the website, which is geared towards potential readers? If the ad is intended for readers, then it seems to be telling them that they ought to buy the book because a lot of other people are going to buy it.
Which is where we get to crass. Instead of telling people 'this book is good, so a lot of people are going to buy it', Bloomsbury seems to be saying 'a lot of people are going to buy this book, so it must be good'.
Publishers make a point of emphasizing their marketing campaigns, foreign rights sales, and high announced print runs because, frequently enough, it works. It convinces booksellers to take more copies and get them out in front of actual customers.
Do publishers this frequently make so much out of an 800 page, footnote-laden fantasy by an unknown author?
But I take your point, and I didn't mean to suggest that publishers should hide their marketing efforts, or that the publishing business should be held to some higher standard. The reality of the situation might not be crass, but it is the reaction I'm having, as I flash back on several books in recent years that have been marketed first as a product and second as a book. Mostly I'm thinking of The Da Vinci Code. A poorly written, badly researched, unexciting thriller that nevertheless shot to the top of the charts, with the help of a $1M marketing campaign (and a relatively controversial subject). Maybe this is just me being contrary, but when I heard the details of S&N's launch, I immediately connected it with a low-quality, high-yield bestseller (yes, I do recognize that the latter doesn't always imply the former, but I paid money for Da Vinci. I'm scarred.) Not to mention that these marketing campaigns remind me of nothing so much as your standard Hollywood summer action movie ad campaign, which tries to sell each effects-laden film as an 'event' which shouldn't be missed. Somewhere in the shuffle, I think, a deserving book might get buried.
And I'm also worried for Clarke. If S&N is anything less than the biggest genre seller of the year, her career is probably over. Wasn't it right next door that, only a few months ago, commenters were shaking their heads over Jane Austen Doe's willingness to accept a $100,000+ advance on her first book?
Patrick wrote:
The only real similarity between Clarke and Rowling is that Rowling appeals to a zillion people who don't normally read genre fantasy, and Clarke's publishers believe and hope that the same will be true of Clarke.
To which I have two major objections:
1. The Harry Potter series is not fantasy (and if it was, it most certainly wouldn't be genre fantasy, which tends to be of a Tolkienist persuasion). The books are boarding school novels cum bildungsromans cum mysteries, set against a fantasy backdrop. With the help of the most elementary search and replace function, one could set the books in space, with Harry discovering that he is an alien, and tell exactly the same story. Whatever X-factor it is that's made the series such a crossover success, it isn't the fantasy setting.
2. Because of the important role that marketing and PR have played in the later phases of the Harry Potter juggernaut, it's easy to forget that the series started out as that elusive, inexplainable artifact - a genuine grassroots phenomenon, fed by word of mouth. If I understand your meaning, Patrick, Clarke's publishers are trying to artificially induce what in Rowling's case was a natural event. Perhaps I'm being paranoid, but that sounds to me like a recipe for backlash before the book is even published. There's something almost crass about the way Bloomsbury announces that the book is 'backed by a huge marketing and publicity campaign', that the foreign language rights have been sold to 19 countries, or their decision to publish 250,000 hardcover copies.
I'm actually quite intrigued by what I've heard about Strange & Norrell, and I look forward to reading it, but I think articles like this are a disservice to both Rowling and Clarke. If nothing else, the comparison to the Potter books served to deeply confuse this potential reader as to the novel's target audience.
| Year | Number of comments posted |
|---|---|
| 2005 | 1 |
| 2004 | 16 |
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