“You write fantasy like it’s hard science fiction.”
This comment was made to me many years ago by Patrick Nielsen Hayden of Tor Books. He went on to clarify what he meant, saying that—no matter how peculiar and varied the elements (intelligent animals, magical kaleidoscopes, figures from myth and legend) I bring to a story—reason and logic will, oddly enough, continue to rule.
Over the years, Patrick’s assessment has been echoed many times, in various situations. A radio interviewer coined the phrase I now like to use to describe the majority of my writing: Hard Fantasy.
I realize that, to many readers, Hard Fantasy may seem to be a contradiction in terms. Fantasy, according to most generally recognized definitions, differs from both “real world” fiction and “science fiction” in that magic or magical creatures are active elements. Whether the story is set in modern times or in days of yore, in a recognizable historical setting or in a completely imaginary world, toss in a spell or a dragon, an enchanted weapon or a winged cat, and you have Fantasy.
(Okay. I’m not here to argue the fine points – that the winged cat could be genetically engineered, or the enchanted weapon a scientific artifact—we’re talking Magical Stuff).
The sad thing is that, for many writers of Fantasy fiction, the inclusion of magic seems to mean that logical ramifications and real world laws both go out the window.
Take intelligent animals. They appear in Fantasy fiction with startling regularity, but most of the time they are not animals at all, but either humans in animal form or idealized spiritual companions. This is the case, even when the author states that what he or she is presenting are “real” animals.
A few years ago, I was sent a book in which, in the opening section, intelligent wolves (not shapeshifters or otherwise magical creatures of any sort) are in conversation. I read until one of the wolves nodded. Yes. Nodded. Head shake up and down.
Wolves don’t nod. Humans nod.
Later in the book, the wolves regularly barked and wagged tails held high. Problem. Except in a very limited fashion, wolves don’t wag their tails or bark. Wolves aren’t merely wild dogs. Wolves are physiologically and socially very different from dogs.
The author could have bothered to learn these things. She didn’t. (I think the author was a female, but I admit, I tossed the book after a detailed skim to make sure these weren’t werewolves or suchlike that would explain such non-lupine behavior). Yet there is ample material available on wolf behavior and biology. She wouldn’t have had to go to the extent I did and make the acquaintance of several actual wolves. All she would have had to do was read.
Why didn’t she bother? I suspect because what she was writing was “just” fantasy. Realistic details didn’t matter. The sad thing is, if this same author had been writing a mystery novel set at a wolf sanctuary, she probably would have gotten the details right. After all, that’s the “real” world.
Sadly, lack of attention to detail plagues Fantasy fiction on many, many levels. Diana Wynne Jones‘ excellent book The Tough Guide to Fantasyland is a compendium of the sort of lazy writing that has given Fantasy fiction—especially the sub-section that features elves and dwarves and other Tolkienesque elements—a bad name.
Ms. Wynne Jones doesn’t just touch on over-used magical races and such, but also on those mundane elements that are so often overlooked by writers who don’t bother to think out the details: cloaks, socks, embroidery, instruments that never go out of tune, and the prevalence of stew.
The Tough Guide to Fantasyland is a great book, one that can make you laugh and squirm (especially if in one’s callow youth one just might have made a few of these errors). I highly recommend it.
My feeling is that writing Fantasy should be harder—not easier—than writing any other kind of fiction. Why? Because every magical element, every immortal (or nearly so) race, every enchanted sword adds to the ramifications and complications of your creation.
Hard Fantasy. Of course. It should be.
Dear Jane,
While I respect and agree with your reasoning process, there is some unnecessary, and potentially confusing, wheel reinvention going on here. There has been a decade or more of discussion of Hard Fantasy. See, for instance, http://www.sfnovelists.com/2008/07/16/hard-fantasy/
David
So many authors need to realize that the paranormal isn’t a panacea. Magic isn’t a “get out of plot holes free” card: the laws of magic need to be just as internally consistent as the laws of physics. Dismissively saying “It’s magic; it just does that” is about as satisfying a way to resolve things as having Zeus descend from a crane.
@jramboz:
You’ve totally just made me want to write something that includes Zeus descending from a crane :)
@AdamM:
Go for it! I’m all for breaking rules… as long as they’re broken in some really, really cool way ;)
Yep, there have been complaints before about how writers use such things as sailing ships and horses in fantasy books. Of course, good fantasy writers establish ‘rules’ for their magic even if they don’t spell out the rules to the readers.
Drak
Even more than the question of horses and stew, the made-up sociology in so many fantasy worlds gets to me. Happy servant races, or magical societies where no one uses their power in a bad way (until that one, pesky evil overlord comes along). As much as I love Tolkien, sometimes I want to go back and strangle every one of those elves because they set such a poor example.
Fantasy world-building should be every bit as rigorous as science fiction. Things need to make sense. People need to act like people.
Thanks for mentioning the Wynne Jones. It’s going on my to-read list.
Re: Zeus et al, I’m not sure Zeus ex machina is precisely rule breaking; surely that depends on what the deus was doing on the crane.
I generally agree, but have a minor quibble. I feel that an author only needs to go so far as to make things “real” for the setting of the book. If the author is writing about talking wolves in the Minnesota wilderness, then yes, they should act like wolves as we know them, but if they’re a race of intelligent, furry quadrupeds on another planet that just happen to resemble our wolves, they’re free to nod all they want.
Fantasy, to me, is a genre in which real world rules shouldn’t have to apply. It’s ok to bend and break norms, but only if it’s justified by the norms of the book’s world.
(Or maybe I’m not all that bothered by anthropomorphized critters in books :) )
I apologize to whoever I’m stealing this from because I don’t remember where I read it…
If all the real world aspects are correct it makes it much easier for the reader to suspend disbelief for the fanasty aspects.
Hey David Hartwell,
These pieces are just one person’s POV.
I’d never heard the term until the circumstances I mention… As is obvious from my opening, right?
Yes, every generation invents sex and drugs.
I think I first heard “hard fantasy” back in the ’80s when it was applied to Niven’s “magic goes away” stories. It’s a useful phrase in a limited way: I would hardly say Le Guin or Tolkien wrote “easy fantasy” or “soft fantasy.”
“Realistic fantasy” goes way back. Along with “gritty fantasy.” That was what was originally meant by “urban fantasy,” which seems to have come to mean “Buffyesque fantasy.”
An afterthought: Why “urban fantasy” should have been thought to be more realistic than fantasy where people wander around in the country a lot, I dunno. It probably said more about the readers and writers, who knew cities better than countryside.
Having come to fantasy by way of science fiction, I have to say that I do prefer what Jane calls “Hard Fantasy”. I like rules and I do think that it’s a good thing when the laws of magic in fantasy are like the laws of physics in science fiction. Two books that I’ve read in the past 12 months do fit into the Hard Fantasy category–“The Name of the Wind” by Patrick Rothfuss and “Mistborn” by Brandon Sanderson. C.S. Friedman’s Coldfire Trilogy and Ian McDonald’s “Queen of Morning, King of Day” fall into this category too.
While urban fantasy may seem more realistic because of our familiarity with the setting, I suspect that it may be less likely to meet the Hard Fantasy criteria.
For the record, “The Tough Guide to Fantasyland” is a must-read for fantasy fans. It’s absolutely hysterical. I was surprised at the tiny format though. It’s out of print in the US, so you have to get the UK version.
Having had this discussion before in other forums, I’ll refer to a term that Mieville used for another sub-genre that he called ‘high fantasy’. I’m bringing it up since it’s basically the same discussion, only years later.
I always liked Mieville’s definition of high fantasy, which basically defines any fantasy that sticks to the Tolkien pastiche. It worked then and still does today. I’d love to add ‘hard fantasy’ to the list of sub-genres, since it’s a fairly broad term that sticks to a fairly narrow set of rules, similar to what was already brought out in the discussion that Hartwell linked too; Brennan brought up steampunk as a good example of a sub-genre label that actually works.
As a side note to Hartwell, saying that this particular discussion has been going on for decades is correct. Linking to a blog post from last year from a fairly new writer in the genre as an example is weak sauce. Are there any more in-depth discussions on the topic you could point me too? I am asking sincerely, as these topics are of interest to me. Thanks.
And I forgot to chime in with all the others, but the ‘Tough Guide’ really is essential and very enjoyable reading.
Hobbyns,
I just pasted in the first link to ongoing discussion I found. The origin of the discussion is at least 20 years old, but Michael Swanwick’s essay, “In the Tradition….” galvanized discussion in the 1990s and beyond. That is where to start. After that, lots of digging and many thousands of words in the wayback machine. Try:www.chrononaut.org/log/archives/000688.html
David
Hmm. I prefer the surreality of magic-in-lit. But in all fairness I don’t really read or have liked previously anything in the fantasy aisle, either; I find elves and dwarves tired, fireballs unimaginative – I am so sick of D&D iterations and Tolkien knock-offs. Give me Louise Erdrich instead of Dragonlance.
Magic can be almost-tangible, guessed-at, never wholly acknowledged in a book. Laws of Magic only apply to a twelve-sided die. Think /American Gods/ here, where magic is the accepted-at-face-value hiccup in the ‘consistency’ of everyday goings-on.
The only understanding of magic I want is just to rattle the bones and spit in the dirt a little, then see what happens.
I have no idea why so many authors of fantasy find that logic can be suspended in their stories. I was discussing it the other day when I was very pleased with an author’s attention to detail with her magic system (Magic to the Bone, Devon Monk).
Sandikal @13 – and everyone else! – Tough Guide to Fantasyland is actually back in print after a frustrating hiatus.
I’ve never really thought of hard fantasy as a generic distinction any more than its opposite, “confusing mess fantasy,” or that other one, “talks way too much about the intricacies of the magical system fantasy.” And so on. The nodding wolves are a symptom of one kind of bad writing more than the author’s rejection of one genre or conscious adherence to another, but I think Patrick’s observation about reason and logic winning in the end is interesting – not as opposed to poor research and, erm, blithe world-construction, but as opposed to having fate, virtue or power be the resolving force of choice. That’s an important distinction to me, more so than the author’s research standards. Those books just get returned/tossed/pawned off on unsuspecting friends!
As Thumbelinablues noted, The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, by Diana Wynne Jones, is indeed in print in a “revised and updated version” from Firebird Books, a division of Penguin.
It’s a nice package, easy either to read or browse.
i should add (as its editor) that the firebird edition of *the tough guide* is a complete redesign, including a new map, and added bonus material.
diana herself calls it the definitive edition.
Sounds like I am going to have to get myself a (new) copy.
As far as the Hard Fantasy question, while I don’t expect writers to have degrees in various subjects, sometimes my sense of disbelief is challenged when the author makes mistake after mistake that the Tough Guide satirizes…
Oh boy. I’m torn on this issue.
On the one hand, I like the ring of Hard Fantasy. It puts me in mind of fantasy novels with real emotional and psychological depth. Fantasy that weaves metaphor to plumb the depths of human experience. Fantasy that creates worlds in the readers imagination more real than the real world we are escaping from. If thats Hard Fantasy, I’m all for it.
On the other hand, painting fantasy into the corner that Hard Science Fiction has been in for decades seems like idiocy to me. Elminating nodding dogs, planning your magic system to the nth degree and using world building as an excuse for writing roleplaying game handbooks disguised as novels are all very good ways to not address what really makes fantasy tick. Fascinating characters, dynamic plots, deep and meaningful themes. Hard SF has been deliberately eschewing these things for decades, and paying the price. It would be a shame to see Hard Fantasy do the same thing.
http://damiengwalter.wordpress.com
And just how much are we allowed to let the reader deal with unaddressed? Do we have to show exactly how a shaman’s magic works or do we give enough to the reader to create as much wonder as one of her tribe might experience as she weaves her magic? Do we have to know the GNP of a fantasy nation to determine if the stew contains chicken or fish or just common tubers or can we just call it stew and let the reader figure it out? When talking wolves are nodding, can’t we just infer that one agreed in the affirmative to another in ways that wolves do? Heck, I’m ready to just infer that the talking was some form of communication that was more or less wolf-like because I imagine the author didn’t specify the linguistic characteristics despite the fact that we were reading English anyway.
Don’t get me wrong. I love finding ill considered elements in stories to pick apart (the stew is not likely to have fish if the nearest fresh fish is 200 miles away) and revolving a plot line or resolution around the unexplained is just sloppy. But is there a line?
Does the Tough Guide to Fantasyland point at, discern, or otherwise define this line?
I don’t see why a writer should be excused from solid world building if he/she writes good characters.
I try to do both!
And I find that “real world” details add to the depth of characterization.
Let’s use nodding wolves, again.
Wolves do indicate “affirmative,” but do through body language that differs from the human or the dog.
Why not make including this part of the depth of characterization?
Richness in cultural details can also be part of characterization.
Example: Many Chinese find cheese disgusting. In Thirteen Orphans, My half-Chinese, half-Hungarian character, Pearl Bright, loves cheese. Therefore, the cultural detail becomes part of making her a three-dimensional character.
What do you call science fiction that breaks these rules? That uses science as a panacea, and just replaces (usually 19th century) technology and social systems with a pseudo-technical equivalent?
Science fiction, even very ‘hard’ science fiction, is regularly filled with bad plottting and the same senselessness as fantasy. I actually find it harder to stomach in science fiction.
I will happily excuse a writer from solid orldbuilding if they write a crackling plot and great character. Most fantasy manages a solid world and maybe a great character (with a recyled plot). Few novels of any genre manage all of it.
Brennan Peterson asked: “What do you call science fiction that breaks these rules?”
That’s a good question, and one I’m not really as equipped as some to answer.
I’ll offer a few thoughts… Mr. Peterson says “even very ‘hard’ science fiction is regularly filled with bad plotting…”
Actually, I think that Hard SF has a history of suffering from this, because many authors felt the idea came first, and the people were pawns to be moved around to show the cool science ideas.
Hard SF has improved in leaps and bounds in this area.
But I’d love to have either one of our SF Scholars (oh, Mr. Hartwell…) or writers weigh in on this, since I’m likely to make a terminological mistake and find myself chidded!
You make the assumption that a fantasy world must be framed on our understanding of “reality”. This is a mistake. Fantasy shouldn’t be something that always follows(or follows at all) the rules of our world. Hard fantasy is essentially a genre in which the story follows its own constructed rules with convincing results; hence the ‘fantasy’. The rules can be different from ours, but communicated with rational detail. But the story shouldn’t really on the realistic detail to create an effect. Details should be hidden by the author, or subtly suggested to preserve the sense of wonder that sets fantasy apart. If the writer created a consistent physics system, biological system, economic and environmental system for the story, the reader will know. The story should show them the results. Fantasy shouldn’t be punished just because physical processes don’t work like they do in reality, and Hard Fantasy is only different, to me, in its explanation of how it doesn’t work the same.
Should wolves nod? Sure, if they have means to do it. That’s Hard Fantasy.