Tag: the lord of the rings

Why the Divide Between Speculative Fiction and Literature?

Floating Castle

Literature | ˈlit(ə)rəCHər | noun | Written works, especially those considered of superior or lasting artistic merit. – New Oxford American Dictionary


According to a certain stuffy pocket of the literary community, science fiction, fantasy, and horror, collectively known as speculative fiction, don’t qualify as literature. Decent stories? Maybe. Cool ideas? Sure. But in the eyes of this snobbish literary elite, speculative fiction just doesn’t measure up to stuff like The Grapes of Wrath and Moby Dick

Would you ever read Moby Dick willingly? Yeah, neither would I.

Take the 2003 National Book Awards as an example. That year’s winner was none other than Stephen King, who of course mainly writes horror. The literary elite wasted no time in attacking him, no doubt because he’s just a lowly genre writer. Here’s a quite from critic Harold Bloom.

“The decision to give the National Book Foundation’s annual award for ‘distinguished contribution’ to Stephen King is extraordinary, another low in the shocking process of dumbing down our cultural life. I’ve described King in the past as a writer of penny dreadfuls, but perhaps even that is too kind. He shares nothing with Edgar Allan Poe. What he is is an immensely inadequate writer on a sentence-by-sentence, paragraph-by-paragraph, book-by-book basis.”

You forgot chapter-by-chapter, Harry, but whatever. I disagree with you.

In an episode of my favorite podcast, The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy, host David Barr Kirtley led a panel on this very debate. Recorded to promote Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015, edited by John Joseph Adams and Joe Hill, the panel featured such influential SF figures as Adams, Hill, Carmen Maria Machado, Seanan McGuire, and Jess Row.

It’s interesting; Adams and Hill have starkly different opinions on the purpose of the volume. On the one hand, John Joseph Adams thinks of Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy as a vehicle for speculative fiction to prove its worth to the literary mainstream. In his own words:

“I and other science fiction fans believe that the best science fiction and fantasy is on par with or better than any other genre. My goal with The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy was to prove that.”

Joe Hill, however, argues that speculative fiction has already merged with literature, and that it did so a long time ago.

“The instruments of science fiction and fantasy—the tools in that genre toolbox—have been out there in the literary world and being explored for at least a decade now, in work by people like Jonathan Lethem, Michael Chabon, Margaret Atwood, and Cormac McCarthy. Science fiction and fantasy is part of the literary mainstream, and has been for a while now.”

At first glance, Hill’s argument resonated more with me. There are so many novels out there—The Road, Fahrenheit 451, Cloud Atlas, and 1984, just to name a few—that are generally considered literary, non-genre works, yet are so clearly speculative fiction that it’s difficult to argue otherwise.

The more I’ve thought about this debate, the more I’ve started to like a decidedly different answer.

Why doesn’t the literary mainstream accept speculative fiction?

Why does it matter?

Let’s refer back to our definition of literature for a second. In the grand scheme of things, does The Lord of the Rings have “superior or lasting merit”? I’d say so. Since the trilogy’s publication in 1954, it’s been an enduring classic for generation upon generation. It’s been translated into 38 different languages (not sure if Tengwar counts there). Furthermore, it’s a story about enduring human ideas: friendship, tyranny, power, greed, love.

Does The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy have lasting merit? Does DraculaDoes Slaughterhouse Five? 

If you’ve ever read any of those books, you already know the answer.

Truth is, we don’t need to speak up for speculative fiction. Speculative fiction speaks for itself.

 

 

Are you a fan of speculative fiction? Me too. Check out some of my speculative work here.

Why Do We Care When Characters Die?

Death

Why’d you have to take Ned Stark, man?

Did you cry when Bambi’s mom got shot?

It’s okay. You can admit it. Though we know they’re not real, the death of fictional characters evokes real emotion in us. I find that amazing. After all, when fictional character die, we’re essentially mourning the loss of someone who does not, has not, and never will, exist.

The question is: why? Why do we care when a nonexistent character bites the dust?

I don’t claim to know the answer. But I do have some theories.

Here’s the first: we humans can’t help but empathize. When characters feel realistic, when we become invested in them, they become mirrors. We see our own traits reflected back at us, both the good and the bad. We draw parallels between our lives and theirs. So, when one of them dies, we see parts of us dying, too. And nobody likes that.

Here’s another: the more time we spend with characters, the more we become attached to them. Especially in book series, TV series, and film franchises, we watch these characters grow, watch them succeed and fail, watch them change with us. I think this is especially true for something like the Harry Potter series, in which the readers/viewers grow up right alongside the characters. When you’re going through the same experiences with another person at the same time, you’re likely to form a connection with them (even if they’re made up).

My third and most out-there theory: death in fiction reminds us of our own mortality. A popular theory of filmmaking states that we love movies because they solve problems in a matter of hours that are otherwise unsolvable in real life. In The Lord of the Rings, for example, Frodo extinguishes every last shred of evil in the world just by tossing some jewelry into an active volcano. Of course, we know that destroying (or even defining) evil is not that simple. But it’s still satisfying to see it done in fiction.

When characters die, however, it’s a subconscious reminder of the real world. We react so strongly to death in fiction because it reminds us that problems like death can’t be solved, not even in fictional realities.

It’s weird, but as much as they can sometimes upset us, character deaths often shape good fiction. Without people dying left and right, would A Song of Ice and Fire be the compelling series that it is? Definitely not. No matter what the reason, killing beloved characters is an essential part of fiction.

But still. Bambi’s mom was over the line, Disney.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Review

I just saw The Hobbit a couple of nights ago, and my first thought upon leaving the theatre was…what was wrong with that?

I’ve heard mostly bad things about this new installment, and I’m not entirely sure why. Criticisms range from slow pacing to tonal incongruence with the Lord of the Rings trilogy to Radagast the Brown (he’s already getting Jar-Jar Binks comparisons). I suppose I’d agree with the pacing argument, but only at the end of the film. Otherwise, I’d say that it was excellent. Not as great as the original trilogy, of course, but still pretty damn good in its own right.

Firstly, the effects were astounding. I know special effects don’t make a movie but…wow. They were just jaw dropping. No, literally. When the new and improved Gollum came on screen, my jaw actually dropped. I used to say that Avatar was the pinnacle of CGI. No longer. Right from the opening prologue scene, I was blown away.

I thought the film had a typically good script from the trio of Jackson, Phillipa Boyens, and Fran Walsh. Guillermo Del Toro even got a credit, which was nice to see. They did a good job weaving in some of the threads from The Silmarilion, and also expanding on other scenes. Some cameos by Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving, Ian Holm, Elijah Wood, and Christopher Lee were nice additions as well.

Another thing I liked were the homages to the original trilogy, both in the script and visually. For example, the shot where Frodo slips in the Prancing Pony and the ring falls onto his finger is copied exactly in The Hobbit, only this time with Bilbo instead of Frodo. Also, Azog comments on the dwarves smelling of fear. A similar remark is made by the orc Gothmog in Return of the King. A lot of franchises reference themselves, Pirates of the Caribbean, for example, but I found this to be a much more subtle and much more enjoyable way to do it.

Martin Freeman and Ian McKellan certainly stood out as Bilbo and Gandalf, respectively. Freeman brought the same energy to the role that Ian Holm had, plus an extra ounce of neurotic humor for good measure. And of course, Ian McKellan just was Gandalf. Great performances there.

As I alluded to at the beginning, the end of the film really dragged for me. Without spoiling anything for those who haven’t seen it, there was a lengthy, exciting action sequence that seemed like the logical climax and ending of this first installment. But in the words of Gandalf and Thorin, the party comes “out of the frying pan and into the fire,” immediately engaging in another skirmish. Faithful to the book, yes, but on film I thought it became anti-climactic. And not only that, there were still about fifteen minutes left at that point. Could’ve been much more exciting if they’d just ended it a tad sooner.

Overall, I thought that The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey was too harshly judged by critics and audiences alike. Sure, there were some problems with the tempo, but nothing so heinous that the film was ruined.

Rating: 8.5/10

© 2024 Kyle A. Massa

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑