For
a few years, I've contributed articles to the excellent Fantasy Faction
website, many of them about classic works of fantasy and their authors, and the
article Pulpfest were interested in was the one I wrote about Fritz Leiber and
his series about Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. Since Fantasy Faction were fine
about the article being reused, I was delighted to give permission.
During
the exchange, we talked about how so many fantasy readers now seem unaware of
the genre's rich history — part of my motivation for the Fantasy Faction series
in the first place. It seems to be a common misconception that fantasy started
with Tolkien, then nothing much happened till the 1980s.
Now,
the 1980s were without doubt a wonderful explosion of fantasy, which in the
decades immediately before had been regarded largely as a poor relation of science
fiction, but the new works that began emerging certainly didn't come from
nowhere. Fantasy has a long and illustrious history.
You
could argue, of course, that fantasy has been around since the dawn of
literature. The oldest extant work of fiction, The Epic of Gilgamesh, is full of gods, magic and immortals, as are
the slightly later great epics of Greece and India. Were these regarded as
fantasy at the time, though? It's very difficult to say exactly how Homer and
his audience, for instance, thought of the gods who took human form at Troy or
the monsters Odysseus fought on his way home. It's likely that they wouldn't
have seen these elements as completely impossible, but such tales of wonder
would certainly have been regarded as something other than normal life.
Magic
and the supernatural have abounded in epics, romances and fairy tales told
since then, all across the world, from the Welsh Mabinogion to the great Chinese novel Monkey, or The Journey to the West.
No doubt many of these were written and received with the same mixture
of acceptance and scepticism as Homer's works.
Possibly
the first culture to define fantasy as a genre was mediaeval Iceland. Contrary
to popular misconception, the Icelandic sagas weren't traditional oral tales, nor
were they in verse, nor were they mostly about gods and heroes. They were
highly sophisticated literary novels, serving the population with by far the
highest literacy rate in Europe at the time, and most typically historical
fiction examining the birth of the Icelandic Commonwealth in the tenth century.
However,
a minority of sagas were retellings of the old legends (most famously the Volsunga Saga, essentially the same
story that Wagner used for the Ring Cycle) and the Icelanders had a name for
these: "lying sagas". The word lying
didn't have quite the unpleasant and disapproving meaning it does now, but
it did define these stories — as opposed to the "true-seeming sagas",
which covered both fact and realistic fiction — as deliberate fantasy.
Fantasy
continued to flourish through the centuries that followed. At least two of
Shakespeare's plays, A Midsummer Night's
Dream and The Tempest, are
unmistakably fantasy, while others have supernatural elements. Both Hamlet and Macbeth, for instance, would be defined today as magic realism.
Eighteenth-century
fantasy ranged from Gulliver's Travels to
the new Gothic genre, which eventually evolved into horror, to William
Beckford's wonderful Arabian Nights extravaganza, Vathek. It was in the nineteenth
century, though, that fantasy as we know it today began to evolve, along with
the science fiction of Shelley, Verne and Wells. George MacDonald wrote a
series of fantasy romances, some for adults and some ostensibly for children,
but it was William Morris, artist, poet, socialist and wallpaper designer, who
really laid the foundations of fantasy in a series of novels at the end of his
life, in the 1890s.
Morris's
approach was essentially similar to the mediaeval romances, but he completely
abandoned any pretence of real geography. Although he occasionally mentioned
Rome or Jerusalem, the stories were essentially set in a mediaeval world of his
own invention. He sent his heroes and heroines — the heroines are usually the
stronger characters — on magical adventures to the world's end or exploring
enchanted islands, and threw the supernatural at them from all sides.
Morris
certainly influenced later fantasy. His islands in The Water of the Wondrous Isles show a strong similarity to those
in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,
while Tolkien appears to have used The
Well at the World's End as the plot template for Lord of the Rings (it even ends with a Scouring of the Shire
episode). Beyond that, though, Morris set the template that fantasy is
mediaeval, a perception that still persists, even against the clear fact that
only a minority of fantasy settings are mediaeval.
As
the nineteenth century turned to the twentieth, a number of authors followed in
the footsteps of Morris and Macdonald. Lord Dunsany effectively created the
fantasy short story as we know it, with tales of adventurers and thieves
"beyond the fields we know" and "at the edge of the world".
William Hope Hodgson created far-future fantasy (as opposed to far-future SF)
with The Night Land, a flawed but
still impressive epic. In the US, James Branch Cabell blended romance and
comedy to create the light side of fantasy, along with his antihero Jurgen, the
model for all those fantasy antiheroes who live by their wits. And, back in the
UK, E. R. Eddison wrote the first fantasy epic as we know it today, The Worm Ouroboros. In place of the
individual adventuring of Morris, Dunsany and Cabell, Eddison showed world-spanning
political manoeuvring, a vast war and a desperate quest. Like The Night Land, it's a flawed book but
well worth reading.
It
was in the US pulp magazines, though, that fantasy really took off in the
thirties and forties. Authors such as Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith,
H.P. Lovecraft (yes, he wrote fantasy too), C.L. Moore, Jack Vance, L. Sprague
de Camp, Fletcher Pratt, Hannes Bok, Henry Kuttner and Poul Anderson — not to
mention Fritz Leiber, the best of all in my opinion — took the Dunsanian
fantasy short story and ran with it over the hills and far away.
Many
were ambidextrous in fantasy and SF, especially those who wrote for John W.
Campbell's magazine Unknown Worlds,
and they tended to write stories that applied the rigour of hard SF to their
fantasy worlds and magic systems. Perhaps the best example of that school is
the series of stories Pratt and de Camp wrote about Harold Shea's adventurers
in the worlds of mythology. Others, notably Howard, took the story of pure
fantasy adventure to a new level and created the sword & sorcery genre —
which Leiber, who stood somewhat between the two schools, proceeded to
delightfully deconstruct and reinvent.
Back
in Blighty, besides two Oxford dons with a taste for beer and tobacco, T.H.
White and Mervyn Peake each created idiosyncratic fantasy like nothing before
or since. As the fifties turned to the sixties and then the seventies, a series
of fantasy authors began to emerge: Andre Norton, Michael Moorcock, Ursula
LeGuin, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Karl Edward Wagner, Anne McCaffery, Tanith Lee
and many more. At the same time, Lin Carter and Ballantine began reprinting
many of the older classics mentioned above, for readers looking for
"something else like Tolkien".
In
his 1973 book Imaginary Worlds,
Carter pointed out an oddity: that, despite Tolkien's success, few fantasy
authors seemed to be emulating him. That changed in the late seventies — around
the same time that The Silmarillion was
revealed to the world — with two epic fantasies. The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks was cuttingly described at
the time as an exercise in rewriting Lord
of the Rings in your own words, although the series it spawned still has
many fans. Stephen Donaldson's The
Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever, on the other hand, was both
recognisably in the same tradition as Tolkien and utterly different.
These
seemed to open the floodgates, and fantasy began its rise to the point where
now it's seen as a major genre by the entertainment industry. Authors such as
Brooks, Donaldson, Gemmell, Eddings, Martin, Jordan and many others are now
seen as the "old, classic" fantasy authors, and I've no wish at all
to demean them. But fantasy is much, much older than the eighties, and any
reader interested in knowing the roots behind their favourite would do well to
investigate some of the authors I've mentioned. There are some great stories
waiting for you.
Unless
I win the lottery before summer, I'm not going to be able to get over to
Pulpfest. I'm proud, though, to be helping them remind readers of some of the
great classics of fantasy.
You
can find links to all my Fantasy Faction articles on this page of my website,
where I've discussed many of these authors in more detail.
Very true. I remember many of the writers you've mentioned, though I'll admit that I have a hard time getting sucked into truly ancient sagas or even stuff from the early 20th century. The dismissal, or even just the invisibility, of my own gender can be hard to take. Sometimes I can get past it, sometimes I can't. The 80s seem to be when a large number of the female heavy hitters in fantasy first appeared, many of whom are still popular today. But your list includes some women who emerged earlier.
ReplyDeleteI've actually run across the opposite issue too--people who haven't read anything terribly recent and assume that all fantasy is like LoTR, or like the stuff that was written in the 70s and 80s that was Tolkien (or Dungeons and Dragons) inspired. Some of them are people my age and older, which makes sense. But I'm surprised how many younger aspiring fantasy writers don't realize that elves and "elevated diction" haven't been expected or usual in fantasy for at least 20 years.
Actually, some of the newer stuff reminds me a bit of Leiber. The same dark, sardonic edge is there.
Yes, the lack of female characters can be an issue in a wide range of older literature. It varies in classic fantasy. Morris's heroines tend to be much stronger characters than his heroes, for instance. In The Water of the Wondrous Isles, the male lead is little more than the love-interest. Eddison had female characters who were a lot more than cyphers, although they tend to be seen from a male perspective. And later in the process, female authors such as Moore, Norton and Bradley had strong females - though strangely LeGuin didn't tend to have many strong female characters till later.
DeleteEven so, I think even those early works that do short-change female characters are still worth reading for what they are, without ignoring their shortcomings by modern standards.