The Definition of a Name
By: Cammille Go
The boundary between science fiction and fantasy is not
a line, but rather this fairly blurry region that many books fall into. There
are some that can be clearly defined as one or the other. Dune appears to be science
fiction, and I don’t think anyone would disagree that Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is fantasy. How about Lord of Light? Is that science fiction
or fantasy? Our course classified it under science fiction, which was something
that always confused me, because much of the plot seems to revolve around magic
and the Hindu Pantheon. Of course, the magic is in reality technology so
advanced it initially seems magical. In that way, a case can be made the
distinction lies in whether technology or magic is used. Using this definition,
it is clear which books fall into science fiction and which into fantasy. But
since “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable
from magic,” how do you tell if it’s
technology or magic at play?
For me, the distinction lies in a much more subjective
criteria. If the focus of the novel is on individual people, it’s fantasy. According
to Martin, fantasy is inward looking. As a result, the hero’s journey plays a
major role. If it concerns society as a whole, it’s science fiction. Neverwhere focuses on Richard’s growth
over time. The ordeal of the key in particular shapes Richard and forces him to
conquer his fear. As such, it falls under fantasy. The Black Company focuses on
Croaker’s and Raven’s growing distaste with the atrocities committed by the
Lady (Highly recommended series, because the Black Company is fighting on the
evil side, *spoiler* so everyone on the good side dies. There’s quite a lot of
moral ambiguity). Science fiction short story “The Machine Stops” focuses more
on the pitfalls of human dependence on technology. And yet, there’s a big
problem with this definition, because short stories like “Fondly Fahrenheit,”
which examines insanity, would fall under fantasy despite being originally
classified as science fiction.
Why are we so obsessed with genre distinctions? Now
that’s an interesting question. To name something is to define it. That’s why I
find websites such as the Dictionary
of Obscure Sorrows so compelling (If you haven’t already seen them, I highly recommend this video and this one). It is not that the emotions
described don’t exist, but rather the act of defining makes them seem real. I
think that’s also why the idea of true names is such a popular theme with
fantasy. They play a large role in Wizard
of Earthsea and in Eragon.
They’re so incredibly powerful that they can be used to control people and
dragons. It’s the same as assigning an identity to someone that they must
instinctively try to follow. And, the same idea is true of naming a genre. It’s
not something to be done lightly despite my fumbled attempts above at doing so.
Now the better question is whether there should be genre
distinctions. Compartmentalizing stuff and sticking it in boxes is something
innate to humans, I think, for the reason listed above. Humans have the urge to
define, the urge to control. It’s simpler and faster and makes our lives quite
a bit easier when we automatically know what something is. That’s why
stereotypes are so popular, because it takes effort to find out the someone’s
true nature. Genre distinctions are useful, because they allow people to
quickly decide whether they like a topic or not. If looking at how society
changes over time, then it’s much easier to find that in science fiction novels
than in fantasy. For this reason, Ursula Le Guin called dubbing something
fantasy use(d?) the kiss
of death because the material covered in fantasy wasn’t considered popular.
While genre distinctions make life easier, they also have the negative effect
of restricting our choices. Through the course of their reading career, most
people change from omnivores to specialists and thus limit themselves to only
one category. Authors occaisonally do the same subconsciously. Brian Sanderson bemoans
that most high fantasy authors write very similar species in their world,
essentially “tolkenizing” the genre. There are, of course, some benefits to
this, including an increased familiarity with the world. At the same time, it
has the disadvantage of being repetitive. So in the end, the question still
remains of whether genre distinctions should exist with fans advocating one way
or another.
Cammille:
ReplyDeleteFocusing not so much on what the categories ARE but why we feel the urge to categorize is an important and interesting choice in this post. As thinking animals, we like to comprehend the world around us and feel control -- even false control, control we've manufactured out of hope and delusions. Naming things is like that. We could have been named anything, but we will always think of ourselves with the names people call us by. The same goes for the things that populate our world: the act of naming creates difference, even where it might not truly exist.
Best,
TT