Watching the new Fantastic Beasts series, set in the Harry Potter world but outside of Hogwarts school, has made me aware of the horrible inequalities and vicious politics of the Harry Potter world. I have reported on how the first movie very starkly illustrated the lack of interest wizards have in the welfare of muggles, and the extreme inequality between wizard and muggle world that wizards actively work to maintain. In the second movie their disregard for the muggles bleeds into full exterminationism, and the central plot of the movie is revealed to be the battle between an evil guy who wants to exterminate all muggles and a plucky wizard who wants to preserve the status quo (although perhaps his main motivation is getting laid). In the second movie we also see how the politics of the wizard world is close to fascist, and definitely dystopian, and the wizards are subjected to a strict system of control and enforcement that seems to be largely built around ensuring they don’t reveal themselves to or do anything to help muggles.
In comments to the post in which I discuss this dystopian wizard world I attempted to discuss which kind of political dystopia the wizard world is, and after rejecting fascism and communism I settled on a colonialist model for the world. In this post I want to explain in detail how the politics of the Harry Potter world is explicitly colonialist, discuss the world’s repeated turns to exterminationism in light of this politics, and ask a few questions about how it is that a book in which we cheer for a bunch of colonialist bell-ends became an international sensation.
This post is going to be long, and will be structured something like this:
- An introduction to colonial practice: Exploitative versus acquisitive colonialism
- The proto-fascist structure of colonial states
- The Muggle Protection Act and the politics of muggle exclusion
- Why muggles are treated the same way as indigenous people in the Harry Potter world
- The inevitability of extermination and the threat of muggle technology
- Cheering on racists: How did we come to this?
In constructing this argument I will draw on background material from the Harry Potter books, some supporting material which I think JK Rowling published, and the events of the two Fantastic Beasts movies. I’m not a Harry Potter expert, so there may be mistakes. Anyway, here goes…
Two kinds of colonialism
When people think of colonialism they often think of the conquest and exploitation of India, which is seen as the canonical model of how a rich European state takes over and exploits a thriving non-European community. However, this is only one of two types of colonialism. For simplicity in this post I will define these two kinds as exploitative colonialism and acquisitive colonialism. In exploitative colonialism an aggressive and expansionist state invades and subjugates a weaker but technologically advanced state, destroys or co-opts its existing political structures, and runs its economy to its own exploitative benefit. Typically the state that the colonialist power invades is established, strong, with its own heirarchies, a thriving market, international trade and its own technological developments and progress. The model of such a state is India, but any of the South East Asian nations and also much of North Africa qualifies for this situation. In exploitative colonialism the cost of exterminating the locals, and the huge benefits of exploiting their existing markets and social structures, mean that exploitation is the best or possibly the only way for the colonial power to extract benefit from a people it considers its inferior. In contrast, acquisitive colonialism seeks no benefit from the people it overruns. In acquisitive colonialism the expansionist state finds a people who are technologically far inferior to itself, have a very small and dispersed population, limited or no international trade, and few markets it can intrude into. The only thing they have that is of value to the expansionist state is land and the resources locked in and under that land. Often their political systems are so alien to the conquering state that it cannot conceive of how to exploit them, and in any case the local economy is so small in comparison to the colonial state’s that there is no point in wasting energy trying to extract anything from them. Often these highly isolated societies are also vulnerable to diseases that the colonist brings, so exploitation will be highly destructive in any case. In acquisitive colonialism the costs of extermination are so low, and the benefits of exploitation so minimal, that the best outcome is to destroy the local community, drive it off of all profitable or beneficial lands, isolate it from the invaders and exclude it from all contact with or benefit from the invading society. This form of colonialism was practised in Australia, New Zealand and the Americas. The final goal of this form of colonialism may not have been the complete destruction of an entire race and culture, but it was most certainly the complete expulsion of these people from all profitable lands and their exclusion – generally on racist and eugenicist grounds – from all political and cultural interaction with the colonial state. This final stage is characterized in the USA by the reservation system, and in Australia by the mission system and the child abduction program. These acquisitive colonial states reached their nadir in the mid- to late 19th century and early 20th century, when they mixed their colonial ideology with scientific racism, but had a tail that trailed into the late 20th century, with the end of the explicitly exterminationist strategies probably marked by Wounded Knee in the USA and the end of the child abduction program in Australia in the early 1970s.
Of course neither of these kinds of colonialism perfectly enacted the goals they set out for themselves, partly due to conflicting political visions, partly due to changing circumstances, and partly because the goals cannot be pursued to their pure conclusion through the flawed and human agents of colonial repression. But that they did not, for example, completely exterminate the native American peoples should not be taken as a sign that American colonialism was not explicitly acquisitive and exterminationist.
The proto-fascist structure of colonial states
Colonialism extracts a heavy toll from its subject peoples, but it does not do so without also implementing an architecture of oppression and authoritarianism at home. Colonialist states explicitly structure their world view around heirarchies of human worth, defined in terms of race, class and gender, and the state and its supporters construct a network of social, political, economic and cultural forces to support and maintain these heirarchies. Within the home country of the colonialist state there is usually an extensive apparatus to control the poor, with institutions such as the workhouse and the prison, poor laws, debtor’s prison, and press gangs. Much of the British state’s early actions against sex workers were based on fear of the weakening influence of sexually transmitted infections on the colonial project, and the mistreatment of poor women and their children – including deceptively stealing their children and shipping them to the colonies to be used as cheap labour in the mission system and the homes of wealthy colonial families – is well documented, finally.
In the acquired colonial territories the state enacts vicious repression on its own lower classes, in the form of anti-union violence and the employment of terror organizations such as the Pinkertons to enforce its will. Where extractive industries in the acquired territories come into conflict with colonial labourers or encounter activism to preserve the environment or other public goods they react violently and with government support. Movement of non-indigenous people into indigenous areas is heavily restricted, and organizations that might represent the interests of indigenous people are suppressed. In the USA there was lynching of free Mexican workers throughout the south west, and in Australia in the 1960s the Freedom Riders were met with violence in their journey around Australia publicizing Aboriginal disadvantage. In the UK it was not uncommon to see “No dogs and Irishmen” signs on public accommodations, and at times in history it was not acceptable for white and indigenous people to marry or live together. In later years through programs like Cointelpro and the undercover police operations of the UK the state’s secret police worked assiduously against not only indigenous rights but also environmental and labour activism, animal rights progress, and any form of restrictions of the rights of the colonial state to extract full value from its stolen lands. In the USA this led to state and extra-judicial violence against indigenous people protecting their water rights, open suppression of land rights activism, and the use of prison and state power to restrict services to reservations to force acquiescence from indigenous activists and their non-indigenous supporters. The British state introduced transportation in the 19th century, dumping petty criminals and labour organizers from the UK into the badlands of its colonial properties and then pitting them against the indigenous residents, and punishing those who spoke out against these practices.
It is not possible to exterminate whole peoples, push them off their hereditary lands, and steal their resources without maintaining a violent state that represses all attempts at clemency or understanding. You cannot keep humans out of your polity without forcefully policing the boundaries of your polity, and requiring that your citizens stay strictly within it. Colonialist states are repressive, and build up structures of political and state control intended to ensure that their heirarchical and violent systems are maintained. There is a wide literature on the damaging political consequences of the exercise of state power in support of colonialism: George Orwell writes eloquently about its damaging effects in Burmese Days, and Katharine Susannah Pritchard describes the oppressive atmosphere of the frontier very well in Brumby Innes and Coonardoo. Henry Reynolds describes the violence of the frontier in The Forgotten War, and of course the Bringing them Home report details the racist underpinnings of the political order supporting colonialism in Australia. The Waitangi Treaty Grounds in New Zealand offer an unrelenting description of the colonial project in New Zealand, against an incredibly beautiful and peaceful backdrop. There is no reason for anyone in colonial societies not to know these things, but many of us do not.
Having established these outlines of what colonialist policy is and how colonial states enforce it on both their colonized victims and their citizens, let us move to the world of Harry Potter, and examine how the wizard world treats muggles.
The Muggle Protection Act and the politics of muggle exclusion
The Muggle Protection Act is a law passed in 1992 to protect muggles from magical accidents. It was part of a broader body of legislative and scholarly work on maintaining the veil of secrecy between the muggle and wizard worlds. It may be just a coincidence, but most colonial states have a law akin to this. For example in 1869 the Aboriginal Protection Act was passed in Victoria, which amongst other things restricted “where people could live and work, what they could do and who they could meet or marry”. Similar restrictions and guidelines were published in the wizarding world, for example the three volume Laws of Conduct When Dealing with Muggles, or the cultural (but not legal) stigma attached to marrying muggles. It appears, from Queenie’s behaviour in The Crimes of Grindelwald, that it is not possible for her to marry Jacob Kowalski or even to have a relationship with him, which is why she has abducted him and charmed him to come with her to France. That suggests that in 1920s America at least there was some kind of restriction on muggle-wizard relationships, or at least they were only considered acceptable in extreme circumstances. It is also apparently the case that the ministry of magic attempted to remove certain books from school libraries if they depicted relationships with muggles or were overly sensitive in their reporting on muggles.
The politics of muggle exclusion becomes much clearer when we investigate Dumbledore’s history of activism on this subject. In a letter to Grindelwald on the topic, this scion of liberal wizard politics writes
Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLE’S OWN GOOD — this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more.
This is a classic model of white man’s burden. Consider, for example, this minute from the colonial secretary of New South Wales to the Legislative Assembly, 1883:
HAVING carefully read the two reports by the Protector, the various letters and articles which have appeared in the newspapers on the La Perouse blacks, and the report of Messrs. King and Fosbery on the Warangesda and Maloga Mission Stations, the opinion which I formerly held is confirmed, viz., that much more must be done than has yet been done for the Aborigines before there can be any national feeling of satisfaction that the Colony has done its duty by the remnant of the aboriginal race.
Later in this note (which can be found as a reference here), we can find in the report of the NSW Aborigines Protection Association the following charming indication of how many people in 1881 felt about Aboriginal people:
As usual in inaugurating an effort of this nature, the Association had some obstacles to surmount through misrepresentation and apathy. It was said that any attempt to better the condition of the blacks was labour in vain; that they were such irreclaimable savages, and so devoid of ordinary human sympathies that no hold could be got over them ; and that they were dying out so fast that no good end could be served by trying to civilize and educate them.
This is very close to the way Grindelwald or Voldemort think about Muggles; indeed, without having access to it, one could assume that Dumbledore’s reply to Grindelwald is a reply to a sentiment such as this. Certainly there is a movement in the wizard world – epitomized by Grindelwald and Voldemort, but also expressed through pure-blood fascists like Malfoy – that the wizards have the right to rule over muggles, that no consideration should be given at all to muggles and that purity of blood is essential. Indeed, the entire language of blood status in the wizard world exactly mirrors the language of racial heirarchies in colonial societies, and policies championed by pure-blood fascists are very similar to those proposed by people like A.O. Neville in early 20th century Australia. The similarity of language and intent is striking. Effectively what we see here is one side of an ongoing debate between wizards about whether to completely ignore or even exterminate muggles, or to keep them excluded from wizard society but act where possible for the good of the muggles when doing so. In the Harry Potter books we see this debate manifest as a violent conflict between Voldemort on one side, and Dumbledore and the children on the other, in which we side with Dumbledore and his white man’s burden, rather than the exterminationist Voldemort.
The Muggle-Indigenous parallel
Of course, one might argue that this colonial vision cannot be shared between wizards and European colonialists, because wizards are not stealing anyone’s lands. They don’t need to interact with muggles at all and they’re simply maintaining a peaceful distance. But this is not the case at all. Muggles are a constant burden to wizards; muggles are in the way. Whenever wizards show themselves around muggles – whenever they attempt to be on muggle land or in muggle spaces as wizards – they risk violence, and the entire architecture of wizard secrecy was developed in 1683 in response to violent encounters between muggles and wizards. In the colonial project Indigenous people are also in the way, because they occupy land that the colonialists want, and attempts to use that land incur Indigenous anger and violence, so the simple solution is to push them off. Perhaps they could have come to some arrangement to share the land, but why would they bother with people so far beneath them? And why negotiate when essentially you do not believe that Indigenous people are using the land at all? This logic of terra nullius makes it an injustice to the colonialists to have to negotiate with their inferiors for access to land they don’t believe the indigenous people are using or need. A very similar situation applies to the wizard world: wizards cannot openly use muggle land or public space without incurring violence, and so the muggles to them are just a nuisance. They have nothing to gain from interacting with muggles, and consider themselves so far above muggles that negotiating with them is a waste of time, and so they try to separate their societies. To this end they establish a complex system of laws that they enforce with extreme violence (towards wizards who violate them) and obliteration (of memories) for muggles who stumble across their existence. It is also clear from the books that even liberal wizards don’t think twice about interfering in the wellbeing and livelihoods of muggles if the muggles’ presence causes them even a moment’s inconvenience. Consider this story from Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince[1]:
There was no doubt that Mrs Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman. Apparently Dumbledore thought so too, for Harry now saw him slip his wand out of the pocket of his velvet suit, at the same time picking up a piece of perfectly blank paper from Mrs Cole’s desktop.
‘Here,’ said Dumbledore, waving his wand once as he passed her the piece of paper, ‘I think this will make everything clear.’
Mrs Cole’s eyes slid out of focus and back again as she gazed intently at the blank paper for a moment.
‘That seems perfectly in order,’ she said placidly, handing it back.
Here Dumbledore, ostensibly a champion of muggle rights, simply screws with a woman’s mind and creates a future disciplinary issue for her, just because she is “inconveniently sharp.” Her situation or needs are of no importance to her at all – he simply dismisses her intentions and free will, and tricks her into not doing her job, with all the consequences that entails.
It is inevitable that at some point in this history an impatient or particularly arrogant wizard is going to advocate for the next step from this inconvenient co-existence: exterminate them and take their land. This is what Grindelwald wants to do, keeping alive perhaps a small number for some as-yet-unclear purpose. It is also part of Voldemort’s goal, although he also appears to want to reshape wizard society as well. Perhaps he realized that rebellion against the system of muggle protection boards and secrecy statutes was not enough, and to properly settle “the muggle question” one needs to also change wizard society so it is less squeamish about what needs to be done. This would make him no different to the people arguing against the Aborigines Protection Association in Australia in 1881.
The parallels are obvious: an inferior race interferes in the goals of wizards by being in their way on land they could be using for their own benefit. So the debate becomes: do we tolerate them and do our best to rule with good intentions, avoiding harming them as much as possible; or do we exterminate them for our own convenience? All of the Harry Potter plot – and especially the plot of the new Fantastic Beasts series – concerns the resolution of this debate. It’s the classic debate of the colonial era, with magic.
Extermination and the threat of muggle technology
The slide towards extermination is inevitable, and the imperative to do so becomes obvious in The Crimes of Grindelwald, where we begin to realize that there are too many muggles, wizards can’t control them forever, and because they haven’t already completely destroyed their society, the muggles are developing their own technology. Grindelwald shows a vision of the future in which muggles have nuclear weapons and it becomes painfully apparent to the gathered wizards that the game is up: if the muggles get that technology, they are the equals of wizards. That one vision by itself is enough to convince at least half of the wizards to switch sides. Queenie switches sides, with the promise of no moral constraints on how she will be able to deal with muggles. The implication for Queenie is that she can have Jacob – but what does that mean for the other wizards in the room? Murder? Slavery? It’s not clear but the implication is not good. The moral implication of this in the context of this colonialist model of wizard-muggle interactions is obvious: because they didn’t exterminate them and disrupt their culture sooner, the wizards have allowed the muggles to flourish and become independent, and now they are a threat. The wizards should have learnt from the human playbook, and done the job properly from the start. Grindelwald – and, perhaps, later Voldemort – will do the job properly!
The moral implications
What should we as readers take away from this collection of stories? I tried googling to find out what others have written about this topic, and although I found some interesting questions and debates on colonialism in the stories, I could not find anyone tackling the obvious racism of the wizard/muggle divide and the horrifying language of colonial racial hierarchies in Rowling’s lexicon of blood purity. I found an article from an academic, Magical Creatures and How to Exploit them, about the colonial politics of wizard’s attitudes towards non-human magical beings. I found a question on Metafilter (wtf!) about whether the wizards bothered to stop colonialism when muggles did it to each other, with the obvious implication (since it happened) that wizards from all the countries on earth sat back quietly while muggles of one country enslaved and exterminated muggles of other countries. This is an interesting question that makes the central interventionist debate in Black Panther look kind of pissy, but it doesn’t address the issue of how wizards view and treat muggles. The entire issue seems to have just slid under everyone’s notice.
I think this is a strong indictment of how western societies view our colonial past, and also a really depressing example of how much indigenous peoples’ voices and cultural history have been excluded from western culture. We didn’t even notice as a series of books in an obviously, openly racist and colonialist setting swept the world by storm. A huge amount of ink has been spilled on her description of native American wizards, but nothing has been said about the colonized nature of muggle life, and the fascist society that rules over them and is planning to exterminate them.
There is nowhere in the original series of novels or in the movies where the author makes a judgment on this, or leads us to believe that she even sees this issue (indeed, in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them it is unclear whether we’re even meant to think the summary execution of Tina is bad). It is possible to make stories of this kind with a little more moral nuance than we see in Harry Potter. For example, in his Culture series, Iain M. Banks makes it very clear that there is something slightly wrong about the Culture, and especially about the behavior of the Contact section. In Consider Phlebas we are obviously meant to sympathize with the Culture’s enemies as they race to find the Mind, and in The Player of Games the planet that Gurgeh intervenes in is set up as almost comically evil with the specific intent of posing a moral question about interference. The decisions that the main characters make leave them scarred and cynical, and sometimes set them against their own society. In the movie Avatar the colonial conflict has a clear moral framework and we end up switching sides midway through. There is no point in any of the multitude of books, movies and associated stuff where any wizard character of any kind rebels in any meaningful way against the colonial system, or even questions it. The obvious implication of this is that we’re complicit with it, as readers – we are asked to go along with it, and we do!
This leads me to ask a few questions about the series, its conception and its reception, which I have not been able to answer:
- Did J.K. Rowling intend this series to be a discourse on colonialism, or did she invent this entire apparatus out of whole cloth?
- Has anyone noticed the racism of wizard society and its colonialist parallels, and has Rowling responded to that?
- Is there any young adult literature where the good guys are embedded in and supporting a society as openly fascist as the one that Rowling writes about?
It is disturbing to me that this series is about a group of children defending an overtly authoritarian society from a fascist takeover, in which two separate storylines describe bad guys intending to exterminate most of the human race on racial grounds, and we are supposed to cheer on the “good” colonialists who are protecting a “good” society which controls the minds, bodies and souls of 6 billion people because of their infinite inferiority, and maintains a deeply violent and illiberal social order in order to protect that colonialist project. I cannot remember any book I have ever read in my entire life (except perhaps Starship Troopers, but for obvious reasons my memory of that is dim) in which the society the good guys come from is so deeply evil, and yet we are so blithely expected to cheer along the main characters as they defend and support that society. Looking back on it now, I feel as if I have been indoctrinated into a vicious and disturbed cultural order, raised in it just like the children in the books, and only when I was presented with Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them did I finally realize that the society I had been cheering for needs to be torn down root and branch.
Conclusion
The society of the Harry Potter world is best modeled as a colonialist society in which an elite of extremely powerful people lord segregate themselves from a mass of muggles who they exclude from the riches and benefits of their own society, on explicitly racist grounds. This society has developed an intensely authoritarian and illiberal system of government to control the wizards and ensure that the colonial order is reproduced, and is happy to use violence and imprisonment in a soul-destroying prison to maintain that order. Exterminationist ideology bubbles up repeatedly in this world because it is inevitable that a society which views 6 billion people as worthless interferences in its daily activities will eventually decide that the convenient thing to do is murder all of them, and the need to do so becomes pressing when people realize these supposedly useless muggles will get nukes. We the readers are supposed to cheer on the agents of this authoritarian society as they defend it against a fascist, exterminationist incursion, without ever questioning the underlying principles of this social order, the author never shows any sign that she intends for us to question the moral framework of her series, and no character ever seems to question the fundamental evil of it all.
Of course this doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the series, and it’s certainly an interesting political project. But it says a lot about the state of our society that this became popular and that the political underpinnings of the work have never been questioned, or indeed that the explicitly racist framework of the stories has not been repeatedly attacked. Obviously it’s good that millions of children enjoyed a hugely popular book that is enjoyable to read and introduced a whole new generation to the joys of reading and the creative brilliance of literature, but I really hope that in future we as a society can do better than this.
fn1: Itself a deeply disturbing name, when you think about the history of phrases like “Half-blood” when applied to indigenous peoples.
Art note: This is a ledger drawing, art drawn on a school exercise book or some other workaday paper, which is a part of the historical record left behind by indigenous Americans after the end of their independent communities. This one is a drawing by an unknown Kiowa artist, which I took from the Wikipedia entry on ledger art.
April 18, 2019 at 10:40 am
‘Did J.K. Rowling intend this series to be a discourse on colonialism, or did she invent this entire apparatus out of whole cloth?’
To what extent, do you suppose, is this a side-effect of JK Rowling’s construction of what tropers call ‘The Masquerade’ (which, it seems to me, is a necessary feature of the kind of story she set out to tell)?
https://allthetropes.org/wiki/Masquerade
April 18, 2019 at 11:24 am
Thanks for commenting J-D! Yes, this is an essential question, but I think it can’t be entirely the masquerade’s fault. There is an RPG, Vampire: the Masquerade, which features an explicit masquerade requirement, and it doesn’t have anything like the same cultural baggage. Vampire is much better understood as a model of high school student politics than an allegory for colonialism. I’m sure there are others too. Also, since Rowling is a leftist, some kind of alternative in which for example the wizards move quietly amongst the muggles risking discovery in order to dispense aid and support, could have been an alternative model. Or (as I mentioned in the OP) something like Iain M. Banks’s approach in which he puts a much more critical stance in the work. I don’t know why Rowling’s work has to be so uncritically colonialist with such a racist framework!
April 18, 2019 at 1:25 pm
I’ve heard of Vampire: The Masquerade and by fortuitous reading picked up a little about it, but I’ve never played it or read the original source material, so I don’t know how that particular masquerade works or is justified: do the game vampires not regard and treat game humans as cattle?
Likewise, I’ve heard about Iain M Banks’s Culture novels and by fortuitous reading picked up a little about the Culture, but I haven’t read any of the novels, so again my capacity to comment is limited; but judging solely from what you’ve written in this post there’s evidently an element of ambivalence which I think would be incompatible in a deep way with Rowling’s story. To my way of thinking, one of the axes around which the whole story revolves is ‘You’re a wizard, Harry’, being an unambiguously exciting and joyful discovery. In that context, I don’t think there’s room for any character to reflect that sometimes it’s not such a good thing being a wizard (or a witch). I don’t recall any character saying that being a wizard or a witch is better than being a Muggle, but I think that’s because it’s supposed to go without saying.
Your other suggestion interests me more, because it reminds me of Ged in Chapter 9 of The Tombs Of Atuan, curing the infected udders of the goats of the woman who’s given him and Tenar a meal and somewhere to sleep, but without telling her (he’s disguised because in that place a wizard is by definition sinister and dangerous and, anyway, why need he tell her?). Reading that part of the story over again, I wonder how easy it would be to insert an incident like that into Rowling’s story of what an adventure it is to be a wizard.
April 18, 2019 at 1:47 pm
I agree J-D, these are complications to Rowling’s project. Obviously being a wizard is meant to be better than being a muggle, that’s the whole joy of the thing. But does that mean that we have to set up a complex architecture of violence, torture and imprisonment to ensure that wizards stay separate and better? Isn’t there another way?
There are other versions of this setting too – the Rivers of London series is a nice alternative vision of wizards living alongside people, and then there are the more overtly high magical styles of The Dresden Files or the Alex Verus stories, both of which involve wizards hiding from non-wizards without the institutions of terror that stalk Rowling’s work. It seems like a very determined choice to set things up as she has done.
Also! Yes the Vampires treat humans like prey, but importantly they need to keep them alive. The wizards in Harry Potter clearly have a strong incentive not to do that! I’m reminded of Spike’s brilliant speech near the end of Season 6 (?) of Buffy where he admits he quite likes humans, and likes having them in his world, and secretly most other vampires feel the same way. You won’t find that in Harry Potter.
(Come to think of it, Buffy is an excellent model for how to have these two worlds side by side without fascism!)
April 19, 2019 at 8:35 am
Once again I must confess unfamiliarity: with the Rivers of London, the Dresden Files, and the Alex Verus stories. But Buffy I know thoroughly, so I’ll provide, for the record, the exact quote from ‘Becoming, Part 2’, the twenty-second and final episode of Season Two (not Six):
With that out of the way, on reflection, I think the main point I was trying to make is this (and it serves as a response to the question you posed, ‘Did J.K. Rowling intend this series to be a discourse on colonialism, or did she invent this entire apparatus out of whole cloth?’): I don’t think any of the properties of the Potterverse world which emerge from the text of the books reflect a coherent plan on the author’s part. I’m sure she had clear intentions for the nature of the story, and for most of the characters, but the setting is a rickety piece of work, jerry-built and jury-rigged (as Buffy also is, incidentally).
That’s a separate point from the one about the validity of your analysis of the setting as it emerges from the text: there are implications present in the text, whether authorially intended or not. (Also, if anybody wants to ask whether the author bears any responsibility for implications if they weren’t intended, my answer is ‘Yes’.)
April 19, 2019 at 4:23 pm
I strongly recommend Rivers of London, J-D, it’s great. Alex Verus gets unpleasant and grim in the later episodes, and Dresden is juvenile fun (and oh so awfully American). The first Dresden has some really nice ideas. I suffered through a world of Darkness campaign set in something resembling the Dresden world and my god do I hate faerie now …
I didn’t realize Spike did that fine little speech so early! This means that I have started jumbling up buffy in my head, and should rewatch the whole thing.
I think it’s a super interesting comment on British culture if JK Rowling just accidentally reproduced the monstrous politics of colonialism based on a few constraints. What does that tell us!?
April 19, 2019 at 10:11 pm
Harry Potter is a long way from consistent or careful world-building. It’s pretty much like much YA fantasy geography – if you need a mountain range or a river, then there it is, however out of place (Feist and John Flanagan spring to mind). Voldemort needs something to take over, he needs to be cruel to muggles, so there they are.
It does say something interesting that the authorities in HP are arbitrary, arcane, ineffective and cruel. Much as the workings of the British state appear to anyone at the bottom.
April 20, 2019 at 8:32 pm
It suddenly occurred to me that it might be relevant to refer to this:
April 21, 2019 at 10:42 am
Monty Python is never not relevant
April 21, 2019 at 1:08 pm
I confess that I couldn’t get into the Holy Grail, the stupid horse thing pissed me off from the outset so much that I gave up. But that scene is damn fine. Also is it just me or does that peasants manner have a bit of Nigel Farage about him?
Peter T I really don’t think you can say that Harry Potter is not “consistent or careful world-building.” The political economy meshes perfectly with the racial framework, the fundamental principle of maintaining divide between wizards and muggles is maintained carefully throughout multiple books and movies, the political crisis underlying the children’s activities is completely consistent with the background world, and the world is so extensively build that it provides fertile ground for a journey into the story’s pre-history. This is the very opposite of inconsistent or careless. Yes, there is a huge contradiction in it, which you see clearly in Fantastic Beasts, when she attempts to draw out more of the background, but having a contradiction arise inevitably from the careful world you’ve built is not a sign of careless world building. In Rowling’s case it’s simply an inevitable consequence of writing stories for a liberal non-colonialist audience when the basic politics of the system you’ve built is horribly colonial. But her colonialist world system is very well constructed.
You might as well say that Tolkien was careless because he didn’t actively consider the consequences and implications of the racial structuring of middle earth’s society. That’s not careless, it’s politically naive. And he those consequences didn’t arise when he wrote the books because he and all his peers thought the sort of ugly scientific racism he was building into his world was natural and good. The problems arise 80 years later, after we see the apotheosis of scientific racism in world war 2. The difference here though is that Rowling’s book is modern, and a modern audience should have seen through this colonialist racism from the beginning.
I’m sorry but in this instance “Rowling was not a careful world builder” has to go into the bin along with “typical Hollywood idiocy.” Arguments built on that kind of basis won’t wash hereabouts!
April 21, 2019 at 5:48 pm
I said it before Peter T did (only more emphatically), and I’ll say it again. You can (if you wish) prevent me from saying it on your blog, but you can’t prevent me from saying it. I can say it, I have said it, and I will say it again!
More seriously, I expect if I went through the books again, systematically seeking examples, I’m sure I could come up with many examples of incoherent world-building, but I’m not going to do that. It wouldn’t surprise if somebody else has already done so and posted their results on the Web, but before I go hunting for further confirmation, I’ll offer you three examples that spring to mind.
Why are the titles ‘Minister for Magic’ and ‘Ministry of Magic’? There’s no justification for that.
Why are wizards concerned to keep the existence of fantastic beasts secret from Muggles? The stated justification, as far as I recall, is that they are concerned that if Muggles discover the existence of fantastic beasts they will also suspect the existence of wizards, but that doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. If real live Sasquatch turned up in Oregon, or Yeti in Tibet, or a monster in Loch Ness, or a chupacabra in Puerto Rico, it would be treated as vindication for the theories of crank cryptozoologists, theories which, however, don’t include a Rowlingesque wizarding community. What would happen would not be people saying ‘Ah, there must be real live wizards and witched hiding somewhere’.
How is the existence of the wizarding community kept secret from the Muggle world when every year Muggle-born eleven-year-olds are taken out of their Muggle lives and sent to board at wizard schools? Those Muggle-born eleven-year-olds have not only parents but also grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins, friends, schoolmates, neighbours, parents’ friends, friends’ parents, people they played on local children’s sporting teams with, coaches, swimming teachers, music teachers, people they used to play chess with, people they used to play D&D with, … how is the secret kept? Hermione Granger’s parents may have been told, and may have accepted, that they musn’t tell anybody about the wizarding world, but when her family and assorted connections, including her parents’ oldest friends, turn up to her wedding and are introduced to the groom’s family, what on earth can the Weasleys say about themselves? or, if they say nothing, what do the bride’s parents say about the groom and the groom’s family when they are asked? For that matter, how did the Grangers (and the Creeveys, and all the other Muggle families with children at Hogwards) explain to the truant officers the absence of their children from their former schools, when they don’t turn up on the roll at any other school known to the truant officers?
I’m not saying that it’s impossible to construct answers to these questions: I’m sure it is possible to construct answers to them, but those answers would obviously be arbitrary retrospective ad hoc extemporisations, because they don’t simply manifest as baked into the setting from the beginning. The world-building’s too rickety.
April 21, 2019 at 6:24 pm
I don’t think those are serious examples of world-building that is not careful – they’re examples of errors or problems but we’re dealing with fantasy here, so …
You’re right that the whole keeping-it-secret thing is ridiculous, but that’s a fundamental problem with the world she’s built, and it’s not about being careful. I think you’re restating my point. This problem becomes more evident when you extend the story beyond the school setting she chose for the original books (this is my entire point in previous posts about this!) But it doesn’t mean she wasn’t careful or consistent!
Also there’s a huge amount of ink spilled about how wizards stay secret – so you can find answers to all the questions about what happens at Hermione’s wedding in the codes for how wizards should behave. No magic clothes! And so on.
So yes we agree, on this point the world-building falls apart. That’s why I’m writing these posts. But it’s not careless or inconsistent – it’s the contradiction at the heart of the thing, that has become apparent with these new movies. And in thinking about these contradictions I have been led back to the horrible fascism and colonialism and open exterminationist racism of the original world. But this doesn’t seem to have been commented on before and I want to know why!
April 22, 2019 at 7:51 am
Whatever you think, I intended them seriously.
The accumulation of errors/problems makes it progressively less likely the supposition that the world is the product of coherently planned construction.
Yes, and so? There are fantasy worlds that are the better (even as fantasies) for construction to a coherent plan, and none that are the better for the lack.
I would be only too pleased if it turned out that we’re in agreement, but I’m not clear on what it is you think we’re in agreement about. We agree that the world is built with a fundamentally ridiculous aspect: do you think it was part of the author’s plan for it to be fundamentally ridiculous?
I predicted it would be easy to find relevant references on the Web: the top hit on DuckDuckGo for “Harry Potter””inconsistencies” is this:
https://www.thethings.com/15-unforgivable-inconsistencies-in-harry-potter-we-just-cant-get-over/
It’s just the first hit of many, though, and it mentions also that the Harry Potter wiki provides a comprehensive chapter-by-chapter list of mistakes.
I predicted that, too. Religious apologists have likewise spilled vast amounts of ink explaining away inconsistencies and otherwise problematic aspects of their scriptural texts, and for the same reason: because they have an a priori emotional commitment to the text. The point is the same in both cases: it’s not that there’s no possible resolution to the textual problems, it’s that texts full of problems are not (in the absence of metafictional game-playing) planned to be that way.
If you can go through a list of problems in the text and relate them all back to one fundamental contradiction with which you are concerned, I will be very surprised. The reason why (to take my own first example) the Potterverse has the titles ‘Minister for Magic’ and ‘Ministry of Magic’ is that (a) JK Rowling has some familiarity with the terms ‘Minister’ and ‘Ministry’ from reality and (b) beyond that, she did not think things through. The books are full of things which I can suppose that she did think through carefully, mostly in relation to characters and plot, but large parts of the setting consist of things that show clearly that she did not think them through.
Many of these things have been commented on, some of them frequently, but when they have not been commented on it is because readershave not thought them through. For readers not to think through the details is enormously common and probably the default. It’s possible that I’m the only person who’s noticed and commented on the specific point that there is no good reason for the Minister for Magic to be called Minister for Magic: if so, it would be because nobody else cares (and, after all, there’s no particular reason why anybody should care; it just so happens that I do).
The bigoted, contemptuous, and callous attitudes to the Muggle world which pervade the wizarding world (and not just the pro-Voldemort Death-Eater element of it), and therefore the text, do not, however, constitute an aspect of the texts which has not been commented on. It has been commented on by other people and not just by you; it’s only the specific analogy with colonialist attitudes which (apparently) hasn’t occurred to other readers, and to me that doesn’t seem remarkable.
April 22, 2019 at 10:36 am
J-D, I think you might be exaggerating the scale of the problems based on a lack of attention to detail. First of all regarding the hiding of the wizard children: I don’t know if you read the previous threads (I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t) but in those we established that perhaps 60 muggle children come of age every year. If they receive the invitation to Hogwarts after their birthday then (given birthdays are evenly distributed across the year) that’s approximately 1 child per week. So visiting these kids, giving them the invite, then counselling their family a bit and casting a spell to prevent them talking about magic with their friends and extended family is the work of … one journeyman wizard. Also recall wizard children are strictly barred from using magic outside of school, and it’s hardly a challenge to cover up their occasional misdemeanours. There are only 15000 wizards in all the UK, so covering up occasional adult errors is hardly difficult. Indeed at that proportion, it is entirely possible that a wizard could write a series of books that dramatize a war between wizard factions and release them to the muggle public to broad critical acclaim, have them become bestsellers, and muggles would still think the wizard world didn’t exist. Look at the events of the past week in France, where a major cathedral burnt down. Given the tiny population of wizards, and the minimal efforts needed to hide their occasional infractions of the rules, it’s entirely possible that the Notre Dame fire was sparked by a wizard’s disagreement, and they simply covered it all up with magic (as they did the far greater destruction in NY in 1920).
The issue you raise with the name of the ministry is also trivial – it’s not sloppy or careless world building to have wizards model their own political institutions after the country they’re in, especially since they diverged after 1682 and probably not immediately and radically. Indeed the Americans, we discover, have a magical congress. Shock! This isn’t sloppy. It’s not necessarily the only way to do things but it’s not inconsistent with the general theme that wizards are part of the culture they hold themselves separate from. As for your list of inconsistencies – they’re not related to world building or the broad structure of the thing, they’re just occasional tiny glitches like why are their spectators at an invisible battle.
But this post isn’t about whether the world is consistent or not, it’s about whether it has a coherent colonialist theory underpinning it. It can’t be handwaved away by saying the world-building is careless and inconsistent, because there are multiple other similar settings (which we have discussed) that have much less consistent and careful world building (in comparison to Potter, the buffyverse is way more threadbare), and they don’t have a consistent theme of racist colonialism. How did it come up in this one? And if the world-build is sloppy, how come the colonialism is so coherent? Are you arguing that Rowling didn’t put much thought into this world but she spent a lot of time carefully constructing the colonial ideology? Because in general scientific racist themes like this don’t come out by accident (if you doubt this, look at the care with which Tolkien built his racist world, and think about the analogies between his heirarchy of races and Rowling’s carefully constructed language of wizard supremacy). It would be remarkable if everything was sloppy and incoherent but this one thing wasn’t, wouldn’t it?
But your theory is wrong in any case. The world-building is not sloppy in this series, it’s careful and coherent and well done, and although in some areas Rowling may not have thought through the consequences (e.g. the demographics are loopy), in general she has built up a well-structured edifice with a careful theoretical underpinning (much more coherent than Buffy and probably more so than Dresden), and that theoretical underpinning perfectly parallels the colonial theories of our past. I want to know if that’s a coincidence, and if so what that tells us about the ways in which people from colonial societies conceive of difference and power. But I’m not interested in hand-waving it away as an accidental outgrowth of an incoherent worldview, because the world in question is not incoherent and protestations to the contrary are, frankly, wrong.
April 22, 2019 at 1:35 pm
Well, if you put it that way: how do you explain it? Do you suppose, for example, that JK Rowling is a bigot and a chauvinist and that her own bigotry and chauvinism informed the story she wrote?
That is, of course, possible; but I don’t think it’s a necessary supposition. The world we all grow up in, including JK Rowling, is full of bigotry and chauvinism; bigotry and chauvinism seems to be the default human response to outsiders, or at least components of the default response. It’s very easy for it to leak into people’s view of the world without conscious reflection.
I don’t think this is a defence, since, as you rightly point out, it is possible to think the issues through and to write stories and create worlds in which the defaults (not just these ones; any defaults) are consciously deflected. It takes an effort, though; an effort which the author could have made, but didn’t, the resut being a product which shows what happens when that effort is skimped.
Some orchestras, I have learned, have taken to auditioning performers without seeing them because, apparently, they know they can’t trust themselves to be unaffected by factors of appearance (including gender) even though they know those factors should be irrelevant to achieving their own desired goal of selecting the best musicians. I remember seeing a Youtube clip in which a musician explained how he’d set out to recruit a team for a project he had in mind and how, if he’d gone with his default choices, he would have ended up with an all-male team: he had to consciously turn his mind to selecting a gender-balanced team because he didn’t want an all-male team, and because the team he assembled when he deliberately paid attention to gender when selecting was a better team than the all-male team he could have assembled by default. I remember reading somebody’s account of how his company had established a systemic incentive to encourage departments to recruit women and minority group members for internships, how a colleague had complained to him about being unable to select the best candidate because of gender, and how on going through the applications a second time the colleague discovered a female applicant who was on merit not merely equal but superior (on the colleague’s own admission) to the male applicant he’d preferred on his first pass. I suspect that kind of thing is extremely common. I am mildly ashamed to think that I’ve probably been affected myself. I agree that the attitudes of JK Rowling’s wizarding world to Muggles–even the attitudes of the characters who are supposed to be admirably pro-Muggle–are appalling; I think that the reason those appalling attitudes pervade the books is that the author overlooked their appalling character the way people frequently overlook the qualities of the air we breathe and the water we drink.
That’s the point of my citing the Monty Python clip: common tropes of chivalric adventurous romance cover unexamined assumptions which, when you extract and examine them, undercut the desired atmosphere of the genre, but typically readers don’t extract and examine them, and neither do writers (largely because of the connection of those assumptions to common social conditioning). (That this was my point may possibly have been obscured by how thick it was laid on by Dennis for comic effect.)
If you think that’s implausible, then what’s your more plausible explanation?
Having said that, I admit that I have been sidetracked during the course of the discussion into points which are at best of dubious relevance to the your central one; I could say more about all that, but I won’t.
April 22, 2019 at 6:00 pm
I don’t think that’s an implausible explanation at all. Except I would go further and say that Rowling conscious laid out a careful political ideology of extreme racism towards muggles, and in thinking up a society where a small elite hold themselves distant from a despised mass who lack their technology, she automatically adopted the colonialist framework because that’s what the culture she was raised in considers to be normal. Then critics and pundits gave it rave reviews for years without noticing this strong underlying politics, even though they should be strongly aware of this kind of political framework. I think it shows a huge blindspot in British culture. I also think it was way less clear in the books because especially in the first couple it doesn’t rise to prominence and when it does it is in the guise of Voldemort’s extreme plans, which gives the impression that this stuff wasn’t already bubbling away in Potter’s world. But this new series is really showing the pre-existing conditions that gave rise to Voldemort, while simultaneously showing just how callous the wizards are.
It would be much more interesting if Rowling had constructed a deliberately colonialist politics in her book and is now, 15 years (?) later cursing the fact that everyone ignored it and thought her entitled hero was the good guy …
April 23, 2019 at 7:28 am
It seems to me, then, that you do have an answer to this question; although perhaps not to the other two which you listed after it.
Not just British culture, surely? After all …
… these new films aren’t British, are they?
(I haven’t seen the films and don’t intend to, so I’m relying on your characterisation of their content.)
April 1, 2020 at 1:11 am
I actually have written something informally which came to a similar conclusion but started with JK Rowling’s recent transphobia.
We assume she’s a leftist because Harry is such a sympathetic character, but when you really dig into it, she’s not really that left-leaning. She’s said some problematic things about Jews in the past (including never fully addressing why her bankers were such classic anti-Semitic stereotypes), she’s said outright that everyone from every religion except Wicca is welcome at Hogwarts, she’s tokenizing at best when it comes to race and trying to shoehorn in Native Americans in Fantastic Beasts only made it worse, and she’s blatantly transphobic.
The entire world we’re shown is through Harry’s eyes, and he clearly has some issues with the colonialism throughout the wizarding world. But looking at it again without assuming that JK Rowling meant us to see wizarding hierarchy as fundamentally flawed, and ultimately it sounds like an endorsement. She may not be a fascist but she’s clearly an apologist, willing to defend hateful views on the stance of “freedom of speech” and the books themselves are obviously doing the same thing. They don’t endorse genocide but they do endorse more mild mannered forms of discrimination like separatism that ultimately allow the seed of extremism to remain fertile.
April 1, 2020 at 10:18 am
Colonialism creates conflict between two groups of people over the use of a territory, with that territory being the home of one of those groups before the arrival of the other group, which intruded into the contested territory, arriving from some other territory which was previously their home. The intruding group sets up the conditions for the conflict by intruding into the home of the other group. In its origin, the violence of the intruding group is aggressive while the violence of the other group is defensive (this is not a complete justification, since defensive violence can be disproportionate, but the distinction is still important).
As far as anything in the texts informs us (although it’s naturally enough one of many aspects of the world that’s not explicitly explored), England (for example) is just as much home to English wizards as it is to English Muggles (and France is just as much home to French wizards as it is to French Muggles, and so on). England is inhabited by both Muggles and wizards, and this is not (as far as we can tell) the result of an intrusion of wizards into England originating from a wizarding home in some other territory. So what basis is there for distinguishing between ‘Muggle land’ and ‘wizard land’ or ‘Muggle spaces’ and ‘wizarding spaces’? The same territory, as far as we can tell, is the original home of both groups. If it is true (or it was true) that wizards risk violence whenever they show themselves around Muggles, doesn’t that mean it’s Muggles who are initiating the violence, making themselves the aggressors against whom wizards are defending themselves?
As a matter of historical fact, not fantasy, in the seventeenth century (in some parts of the world) people who were accused (falsely, obviously) of being witches and wizards were at risk of violence: they were at risk of being the targets of aggression by others. It wasn’t their fault. It is a difference between them and Rowling’s witches and wizards that they did not in fact have magical powers with which to defend themselves, but if they had would it have been wrong for them to use them?
April 2, 2020 at 12:05 am
J-D, yes it’s true that we don’t know who had the land first, so it’s not colonialism in the sense of ships of ugly men sailing over to a new land to do ugly things. But the contest is about access to territory, about who can use what space and what access they have, and the Wizards are living amongst the muggles without their permission, doing things to them to ensure they can use their space freely and at a whim. Also, we’re reading this story from the perspective of the high-tech intruders, and it’s highly doubtful that the Wizards’ history of conflict with muggles is honest about who did what to who.
The basis for distinguishing between muggle spaces and wizard spaces is easy: wizards move with impunity through muggle spaces, taking what they want and doing what they want; and muggles never ever get to go to wizard spaces, or enjoy any of the amazing benefits of wizard life, or be part of their world. It’s a very clearly one-sided arrangement, which makes the muggle world akin to a very large and very fancy reservation, which the wizards make sure they control. The comparison isn’t perfect, but that’s because magic enables boundaries to be blurred and changed (for one side of the boundaries), not because is it’s a bad comparison. I think your tendency to be hyper-literal might be a problem here.
Lynth, yes, I agree, Rowling is superficially leftist but her work is actually a fascist template. Also the way she treats Hermione is quite terrible – Hermione does all the work and smart stuff, and then at the climax of every book[1] something happens to take her out of the action so that the idiot boys do all the active stuff and get all the praise. Also, she is a muggle and has to work 10x as hard for the same credit as Potter, who is a perfect model of a snotty boy who is born rich (in this case, with the inherited wealth of his daddy’s magic). The lightning bolt on Potter’s head is a literal mark of privilege, granting him (e.g.) the best broomstick as a present the moment he arrives at Hogwarts, and a range of privileges and benefits – free to those who can afford it, very expensive to those who can’t.
Also, while the books may not “endorse” genocide, it is the obvious subtext of the Fantastic Beasts movies, and they seem to have degenerated to a debate between wizards about whether to exterminate all muggles, or keep them as cattle. It’s really nasty. And the society of Fantastic Beasts is the society that in the Harry Potter books some 70 years later we find Harry Potter defending. I don’t think Rowling meant us to see Wizard heirarchy as incredibly flawed; I think she expected us to see it as neutral, a fun setting for a Boys’ Own Adventure; but when she expanded it to the adult world of Fantastic Beasts the fascist undertones really shine through. So, as I’ve said before here, it’s time for the muggles to rise up and destroy these people, tear them down and steal their stuff!
fn1: That I have actually bothered to read
April 2, 2020 at 10:50 am
I think I have prompted you to articulate explicitly a key point, and I don’t count that as a problem.
Now that you have articulated the point, I agree, there is a reason why it is more appropriate to describe the situation as one of ‘wizards living among Muggles without their permission’ than as one of ‘Muggles living among wizards without their permission’. By sealing off the wizarding world from the Muggles, the wizards have, in effect, converted it into the equivalent of a metropole which, I now concede, relates to the Muggle world in a colonialist way.
And also with the inherited wealth of his daddy’s actual literal wealth, although the money he doesn’t seem to be snotty about. Also, oddly (or is it?), in the earlier books there’s not much evidence of his actually being any better than average at magic.
April 2, 2020 at 10:54 am
I always find it amazing that Rowling was a single mother with no special background in privilege (as far as I know) who vociferously defends the welfare state, but her key story is built entirely around inherited wealth. I didn’t notice in the books that Harry was rich as well – is this a thing we find in a later book? I just noticed that he receives so many favours and gifts from his rich (in magical terms, oligarchical) friends and mentors, while others with as you say, more talent, are forced to fight for scraps. And everyone spends their whole spare time (or in Hermione’s case in one book, twice her spare time!) fighting to preserve this system!
April 2, 2020 at 6:01 pm
Nope, right from the off. Hagrid takes him to Gringotts so that he can withdraw some wizard money from his account to spend on school supplies in Diagon Alley, and from then on Harry is consistently wealthy. (He buys lots of treats on the train to Hogwarts and shares them with Ron.)
April 4, 2020 at 6:06 pm
Speaking as an author, the Harry Potter books are really well written and well-plotted as young adult novels of character. They are really badly plotted in terms of coherence, continuity or consistency. In this they are very like Dickens. And, like Dickens, the world we see in the background of the stories is very much the world we live in. It is not endorsed (and, unlike Dickens, it is not held up for inspection and criticism). It’s just there, a necessary unthought backdrop to Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest.
If one social attitude does come through it’s towards the British class structure – the one that forgives Lucius Malfoy, neglects Arthur Weasley and tolerates genial incompetence.
One can analyze them (or the Famous Five or Greyfriars), but they collapse under serious scrutiny.
April 5, 2020 at 7:40 am
I would be highly interested in some illustrative examples of that good writing and/or good plotting.
April 5, 2020 at 9:02 am
Good plotting – the opening scenes that introduce the Dursleys, drop enough hooks to get the reader interested, let you know there’s magic about, then bring in Harry and fast forward. As Bloomsbury noted, it really does grab.
Good writing – read the third chapter (owl letters leading up to ‘You’re a wizard, Harry’). It’s funny, moves at just the right pace, brings n the right amount of new info (Hogwarts, Dumbledore) and mixes dialogue and narrative very well.
I’m not saying that Harry Potter is great literature. I am saying that it’s above the mass of YA and very competently executed.
April 5, 2020 at 6:03 pm
Aside from colonialism (I would rather say empire: the wizards claim and enforce privileged status for themselves within a multi-ethnic society but they don’t come from elsewhere and settle in the mundane world) should we talk about narratives of the single, humble, male saviour and Christianity? (Harry Potter has inherited wealth and kinship ties which open doors, but the whole point of the story is that as a wizard he is only middling competent).
That is another trope that it is easy to deploy without thinking if like J.K. Rowling you aren’t inclined to sit outside your own society and ask what parts are odd.
April 6, 2020 at 11:17 am
I agree with Peter T that the books (at least the first one) are well-plotted and balanced. Also yes Vagans, the humble male saviour thing is a boring and over-used idea that is very evident in JK Rowling, YA fiction and fantasy generally (it’s so boringly repetitive in fantasy trilogies).
The boarding school stuff in Harry Potter is also quite horrendous. It’s a throwback to Famous Five-type school days adventure stories which romanticize a quite terrible and abusive part of the development of human resources to support the imperial project. It’s no coincidence I think that these books have such a strong boarding-school element to them.
April 6, 2020 at 11:48 am
Difficult when I don’t have a copy of the book and the libraries are closed. But I’ve noted the suggestion for future reference.
A cousin of mine attributed the success of the Harry Potter books to their being a blending of the three kinds of stories that Enid Blyton used to write: children solve a mystery; boarding school adventures; magical creatures and occurrences. (Enid Blyton’s Famous Five stories are the mystery-solving kind, not the boarding-school kind; the Frank Richards Famous Five stories were boarding-school adventures, but I suspect that’s not what you meant.)
April 6, 2020 at 12:06 pm
Here is an article from the Guardian about the role of boarding school in brutalizing our elites. It’s not the romantic adventure the stories make it out to be, but the unquestioning inclusion of this fantasy in the Potter stories is reflective of Rowling’s general form of reflexively uncritical British soft leftism.
April 6, 2020 at 1:05 pm
It would be interesting to know whether boarding-school stories are more popular with people who have been to boarding school or with people who have not been to boarding school. (I suppose there may be different kinds of boarding-school stories which are popular with different people, but I’m assuming we all know which kind of boarding-school stories I’m referring to here.)
April 6, 2020 at 1:14 pm
Wait a minute!
If something is badly plotted in terms of coherence, continuity, or consistency, what other terms remain in which it can be said to be well plotted? If maintaining coherence, continuity, or consistency is not what good plotting is about, then what is it about?
I do understand, emphatically, that there are other merits apart from those of good plotting: for example, it’s possible for something to be written with beautiful prose style but bad plotting or, for that matter, with beautiful prose style but no plotting, since the whole concept of plotting does not apply to all kinds of prose. But that just underlines the point that the concept of plotting does not include every kind of merit that a piece of prose might have (or lack). ‘Well plotted’ means something more specific than ‘having merit as a work of fiction’.
April 6, 2020 at 3:36 pm
Plotting has lots of elements: pace, mixture (action, dialogue, description), coherence in terms of character as well as background, development….You are writing fiction, not an encyclopedia, so there are bound to be gaps. Sometimes the background detail is essentially irrelevant, so continuity and consistency are not important. The currency and organisational details in Harry Potter don’t make a lot of sense – but they don’t need to. It’s enough to know the Ministry is there and that seventeen knuts make a sickle.
April 7, 2020 at 9:15 am
I guess what I have to say at this point is that you include things within the scope of the concept of ‘plot’ that I do not so include; also that as far as I can tell my position on this, although presumably not the only one possible, is a fairly mainstream one. But I’m not sure how much value there would be to either of us in getting deeper into discussion of what ‘plot’ means.
April 10, 2020 at 6:42 am
Faustus: yes, thank you! I think there are many reasons why readers might like to fantasize about being rich and good at sports, but the very positive depiction of boarding schools (which both reinforce social distance in the manner of a Harvard or MIT and brutalize far too many children) is another thing that was not ‘forced.’ Yes, boarding school novels are a genre and genres make reading and writing easier, but as a single mother and a working-class person she could have noticed some of the disadvantages (just like she could have asked whether its good to wait for a special man to come and solve your problems for you).
I don’t want to criticize her too hard though, because she never claimed to be a profound political philosopher, just someone who wrote some fun children’s novels with charming names for fantastical creatures. If she were the kind of person who asks whether “left” and “right” mean anything in politics, she probably would have not made so many readers happy! Her picture of the wizarding world’s incompetent bureaucratic institutions staffed by well-connected stuffed shirts is timely.
April 10, 2020 at 7:01 am
From another perspective … the boarding school, the non-decimal currency with a jumble of names, the trains, the Ministry of Magic and so on are there because they are BRITISH and she wants to tell British children’s stories. So I agree that the caste system, or wizard ruling class, or apartheid, or extraterritoriality, or whatever you want to call it says something about how she thinks Britain works. Its different from wainscott fantasy where the fantastic tries to keep out of the mundane world’s way, or American monster-hunter urban fantasy where the fantastic is terrible and threatening but can be defeated by massive violence (and the vampires need humans: as blood banks and meat shields against even worse things in World of Darkness, for other reasons in Buffy the Vampire-Slayer).
April 11, 2020 at 9:57 am
“while others with as you say, more talent, are forced to fight for scraps.”
In the wizard world, the other’s aren’t really fighting for scraps – they’re just as talented (except Hermione who’s abilities are so grand that she really needs to be subject to a separate discussion about Mary Sue’s who humble themselves to fit in). The only intrinsic advantage Harry has over another wizard/witch in daily life is he was born famous. It’s the equivalaent to being born Prince Harry – vast inherited fame and wealth with no obligation to do squat.
Now when compared to the Muggles, yeah – Harry has access to vast advantage. But that’s true of Ron or Luna too, and one of them is broke and the other is unhinged.
The situation that matches the wizard work isn’t garden variety colonialism. It’s exactly apartheid [1]. The two classes of people share the same spaces, except the bits marked Whites/Wizards only. And all the political power rests with the wizards. The only difference is that under apartheid you have at least some whites who think it’s bad, where as under the magocracy everyone (even Hermione!) thinks its just fine.
Even Hermione who fights for the rights of (slave) house elves ends up becoming the (unelected as far as we know) Minister of Magic and enforcing this system! That’s like Nelson Mandela being granted a special “White-ness card” and becoming the new oppressor!
“the humble male saviour thing is a boring and over-used idea that is very evident in JK Rowling, YA fiction and fantasy generally (it’s so boringly repetitive in fantasy trilogies)”
Yeah. But these days the humble female saviour thing is also a boring and over used idea in YA novels (Hunger Games, Divergent, The Magician’s Guild, A Hat Full of Sky, etc.) So anything that doesn’t have a transgender or futa lead is derivative [2].
“The currency and organisational details in Harry Potter don’t make a lot of sense – but they don’t need to. It’s enough to know the Ministry is there and that seventeen knuts make a sickle.”
“Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality” deconstructs this, including musings on the potential for arbitraging Muggle metal change rate markets to break the magical world coinage system.
Frankly, everyone who enjoys deconstructing Harry Potter should probably be forced to read HP & the Methods of Rationality. Once you read it (and I have read slabs) you appreciate the original novels a lot more for being fun. HP & MOR is not a bad read, but it lacks joy.
[1] Noting that apartheid is an outcome of colonialism, but we’ve got a more exact term so why not use it?
[2] D&D is working on this. D&D 5e explicitly has non-binary elves as an option (e.g. an NPC in Dragon Heist). It’s not at main characters yet, but I predict that descriptions of both males and females as predictable will encourage growth. [3]
[3] To avoid a path to flamewar, I’d also note that it doesn’t feel forced to me in D&D and I don’t object to such representation. I’m expecting it to come up in ~3 sessions and one player to claim I’m pandering or taunting the concept until I show her the book. I’m also cool with a non-binary character getting a lead role in something outside hentai.
April 11, 2020 at 10:32 am
Actually, considering the relative genders of protagonists in YA novels made me decide to do a sample. I used the top 16 books on in the Teen & Young Adult list at amazon.com.au [1].
Of those 16:
– 11 had female leads
– 5 had male leads
Some other splits I spotted:
– 2 of the 5 male lead books were explicitly young gay male romance novels (one set in the modern world, the other a sci-fi adventure)
– I didn’t spot any lesbians from reading the summary
– I didn’t spot any non-binary characters from the summarys (though that could be a reveal in the story)
– 11 of the 16 books were some sort of adventure. The other 5 looked like modern world non-adventure (e.g. a romance or similar)
– 2 of the 5 non-adventure had male leads (including one of the gay romances)
– Not all of 11 adventure books looked like they had a “saviour”, though of the 6 that hinted at it, 5 had female leads.
So, in the current crop of YA books, female leads are the norm (69%). Hetrosexual males [2] are a minority (19%). In saviour novels, current leads are overwhelming (83%) female.
Of course, the current cropt of novels do not destroy the existing novels (Belgariad, Harry Potter, etc), so I’d expect saviour protagonists to still be overwhelmingly male, though, that would be decreasing. Electronic books mean we always have access to old novels which will keep the male lead numbers high for a long time. You may get a faster decrease surveying actual phycial bookshop because they’d only keep popular old books.
It’d also be interesting to compare this to current reading demographics. Are books being primarily read by girls and is this just reflecting the readership? If modern books are being primarily read by girls, what direction does the relationship work in (books reflecting readership or protagonists gaining readers)?
I can share that my 8 year old has spoken to me about how he feels boys and girls are reflected in stories (a mix of shows and books). He feels girls are shown as smart but weak and boys are shown as strong but dumb. I expect I’ll encourage him to read the older male saviour novels as he grows up in addition to the creme of the current crop.
[1] https://www.amazon.com.au/s?k=ya+novels&rh=n%3A4851626051%2Cn%3A4893871051&dc&qid=1586566684&rnid=5367991051&ref=sr_nr_n_16
[2] I’m unsure of ethnicity. It tends not to get called out in summaries unless a plot point.
April 11, 2020 at 1:06 pm
Exactly. If the humble male saviour is boring and over-used, and the humble female saviour is also boring and over-used, then a humble trans and/or non-binary saviour is not the only way to avoid those boring and over-used ideas. A humble saviour is not a mandatory feature. A saviour is not a mandatory feature.
April 11, 2020 at 4:04 pm
“A saviour is not a mandatory feature.” Well the hero has to save something – even if it’s only him/her self else what’s the story about?
April 11, 2020 at 4:15 pm
A hero isn’t a mandatory feature either.
April 11, 2020 at 6:29 pm
Yes! The whole idea that problems which afflict the whole land are solved by waiting and hoping until a special man comes and saves them for you is a legacy of Near Eastern ideology to justify paying taxes to the king and tithes to the temple. (Then it got turned around when people in Judea realized that the Special Man could be coming to save them from the king or the emperor). You can tell stories where big problems require a lot of people working together to solve them, some of whom are visible and assertive and some who you barely notice. Nobody minds that in their story set in Italy in 1944, none of the characters will kill Hitler and Tojo, put a slow-acting poison in Stalin’s vodka, lay the groundwork to get the prime minister out of Downing Street and Britain out of India, and make legislation to reconstruct Europe into law in Washington. They can save the dashing partisan leader, or stop the village being ground between two armies, or resolve the personality conflict which is preventing their unit from getting the supplies it needs.
Keeping the trope of Messianism but changing who makes Him special, or His gender, or assigning him a sexual preference, is like the rebels from fundamentalist Protestantism who bury themselves in sex, drugs, and loud music because nobody explained humanist ethics or harm reduction to them and they just assume that the opposite of what their parents told them must be right.
April 11, 2020 at 7:03 pm
Paul: I agree that there is a widespread and foolish idea in Anglo culture that sexism against and stereotypes about men and boys are not ‘real’ sexism and bigotry, because they are ‘punching up.’ But I think that messianism is a particularly dangerous trope because it counsels exactly the opposite of the kinds of actions which produce positive change in our world today.
April 12, 2020 at 12:53 pm
Thanks for the statistics Paul. I would be interested to see how much that’s changed over time, and also how winners of prizes compare with the general pool of authors and characters. But I didn’t read the comment about a young male savior as being particularly focused on the gender – just another adjective in the comment (and I can’t find the comment now). I saw it more as a critique of the savior complex thing. I do think to a certain extent we can always expect savior narratives in YA fiction because it’s targeted at teenagers and teenagers really want to be the heroes of their own story. That said, I think JK Rowling – like me – came of age with the Famous Five and Secret Seven and similar stories, which really romanticize long summer days in a perfect version of imperial Britain, and I think that is reflected in her uncritical use of certain themes from those kinds of stories.
I like the apartheid comparison. I didn’t notice it because I don’t know much about the culture and rhetoric of apartheid, and the reason this article occurred to me is simply that as I was watching the latest movie I was really struck by the similarity between colonial rhetoric (which I know something about) and the language and demands of the books. The policies and their names – e.g. the Muggle Protection Act – also struck me as almost perfect copies of colonial era language and policy. It was too juicy a peach not to pluck! I don’t, for example, see similarities between the rhetoric of the ministry of Magic and nazi propaganda. To me there was only one parallel that really stood out. If I knew more about apartheid that might match too – but as you say, in any case, apartheid and colonialism are very closely linked.
Vagans, I’m not sure I would ascribe the savior idea to near eastern mythology. I would have to compare with YA literature from non-christian cultures and so far my reading of YA lit from Japan has been limited. There does seem to be less of this stuff in Japanese YA material – the main character is more likely to be an already competent person (like Ghost Hunter Yakumo, Witch Hunter Robin, Nausicaa) who is part of an organization (Yakumo is a misfit loner, however), often one which is misusing him/her, and was also more likely to be female back when all stories in the west were male. I haven’t put any effort into that comparison and I probably won’t start now. But it does remind I should make more effort to read Japanese YA literature, which might actually be within the scope of my extremely stunted reading ability.
April 13, 2020 at 7:49 am
Vagans: “But I think that messianism is a particularly dangerous trope because it counsels exactly the opposite of the kinds of actions which produce positive change in our world today.”
Faustus: “I saw it more as a critique of the savior complex thing. I do think to a certain extent we can always expect savior narratives in YA fiction because it’s targeted at teenagers and teenagers really want to be the heroes of their own story.”
I think your criticism of saviour story lines is perfectly valid for lots of stories. As Faustus mentions, YA fiction tends to be structured for self-inserts into the story lines. But I’d note that some genres (not just target audiences) are also structured around empowerment fantasys and when you’re dealing with that you can’t also setup the story to be a broad collaborative effort that is capable of driving social change. But that genre limitation is not even a bad thing and empowerment fantasys are OK (in moderation).
For example, fantasy and super hero genre novels are fundamentally about an individual accruing and using power. I’m a fan of fantasy (and I love a couple of few superhero books that don’t stink [1]). To ask these to avoid a “saviour” is to fundamentally change the genre they fit in, which I can’t get behind. These stories are vald too.
To explain my criticism (“stink”) of superhero novels (and comics), I mean that trope where the status quo cannot change. Batman/Superman only put people in prison where they escape. Geniuses can build teleporters, but not automated hospitals or logistics programs. Superheroes are there to “inspire people” but we rarely (or never?) see how acts of kindness like donating to soup kitchens or fighting for education in America trend up over time inspired by Superman. I want my superpowered saviour empowerment fantasy to change the goddam world, not punch (just) Joker!
I guess others can worship status quo… But do you feel better about Batman because he’s an ineffectual saviour? [1] I’m not sure how to consider him for empowerment fantasy – he has vast power and wealth, but seems to exist to apply a “curve flattening” to the Jokers rampages…
I’d also note that Harry Potter (by book 7) ends with a collaborative effort where a teacher is revealed to be a critical mole, three other students destroys critical Horacruxes (one through malice and two through bravery) and even Ron gets a moment of heroism! By that standard, Harry Potter showcases a collaborative effort with a “poster boy”, not an individualist saviour. And poster boys are something that does happen in real life…
” There does seem to be less of this stuff in Japanese YA material – the main character is more likely to be an already competent person (like Ghost Hunter Yakumo, Witch Hunter Robin, Nausicaa) who is part of an organization (Yakumo is a misfit loner, however), often one which is misusing him/her, and was also more likely to be female back when all stories in the west were male.”
The shonen anime and manga I’m familiar with (mainstream stuff like Naruto, Bleach, My Hero Academia, Tengen Toppa Garren Laggan, etc) tends to have an incompetent hero who gradually gains power to become the saviour character. But they do it in an explicit framework where the people around them help and guide them. It’s quite common for their battle cries to reference their friends.
That said, I guess that western fantasy tends to have mentor and friendship characters as critical elements (Gandalf, Polgara, Dumbledore). But it tends to be a less explicit “my friends helped me grow” and not shouted out at as battlecry in the final battle.
[1] It goes almost without saying that that the bad cop who eventually ignores due process and guns Joker down is the real hero. And setting up bad cops to be the real hero isbad storytelling driven purely by comic book sales targets.
April 13, 2020 at 8:48 am
It is not correct to say that the fantasy genre is fundamentally about an individual accruing and using power.
April 13, 2020 at 4:35 pm
“A hero isn’t a mandatory feature either.”
“It is not correct to say that the fantasy genre is fundamentally about an individual accruing and using power.”
These are true if you read ‘hero’ and ‘power’ very narrowly. But the number of readers for stories where there is no sympathetic main character (most often just one – but can be two or three) is very small. The number of readers for stories where ordinary life just goes on in the standard humdrum way, with nothing interesting happening and everyone just getting old and dying, is also very small. Novels of the futility of life have been done, and done well, but are hardly mainstream.
Fantasy need not be about saving the world or defeating evil, but a fantasy story where the characters had no power at all (maybe no magic, but no great wit, will or insight either) would be unlikely to attract a large audience.
April 13, 2020 at 9:46 pm
J-D I think Paul is misusing the word “fundamentally” when he means “usually” or “pretty much always” or “generally”. Kind of like using “literally” to mean “not literally”. I think he’s right, that most fantasy stories concern people discovering, accruing and using power, and/or trying to understand its origins and the dangers of its uses. And most of the stories we love wouldn’t exist without that issue (see e.g. Lord of the Rings and Wizard of Earthsea as canonical examples).
April 13, 2020 at 11:41 pm
Paul, I only read four or five of the Harry Potter books as they got longer and longer, but it sounds like J.K. Rowling saw some of the traps she was heading for and turned away. And like you say, her novels are joyful and written for children!
Faustus, I don’t think that 21st century Japanese YA fiction would be the best comparison, because anything that can market itself as ‘young adult’ in the 21st century is influenced by a Eurasian culture that has been steeping in the Abrahamic religions for the past 2000 years. I would look earlier.
Read some early Near Eastern royal inscriptions which tell you exactly which Power planted seed in whose womb so that their Chosen One would be born to save the day. But a Shulgi presents himself as omnicompetent, someone who is just better at being manly than everyone around them. There is also the Br’er Rabbit/Aesop type of cunning/blundering hero.
And then the Jesus movement had a problem when their hero the country rabbi died the most shameful of all deaths without accomplishing much on earth, and they decided that the humbleness was also part of their god’s plan.
April 14, 2020 at 7:32 am
1. There is a big difference between saying ‘most fantasy stories are about an individual accruing and using power’ and saying ‘most fantasy stories are about people discovering, accruing and using power, and/or trying to understand its origins and the dangers of its uses’. You have fundamentally (and I do mean fundamentally) modified Paul’s assertion.
2. If anybody told me that X is true of most fantasy stories, no matter what X was, I couldn’t take the assertion seriously without being given some idea of how many fantasy stories that person was familiar with and how diverse the selection was. (It would be different if somebody told me that X is true of some of the greatest fantasy stories, or some of the best-known fantasy stories, or some of the most popular fantasy stories, or some personal favourite fantasy stories, but those are all different things.)
April 14, 2020 at 9:57 am
J-D! This is a role playing blog read by rpg nerds ! You can’t be running around impugning people’s level of knowledge of fantasy novels!
April 14, 2020 at 2:51 pm
“It is not correct to say that the fantasy genre is fundamentally about an individual accruing and using power.”
Hmm. Do you mean to say that:
a) sometimes it’s about groups rather than individuals?
b) sometimes they start with power rather than accrue it (e.g. Gandalf)?
c) sometimes they don’t use it (a “slice of life” novel)?
d) some combination of the three?
e) something else all together?
I’d be interested in hearing your reasoning and the books that support it. Hopefuly it’ll identify some good books for me to read.
“1. There is a big difference between saying ‘most fantasy stories are about an individual accruing and using power’ and saying ‘most fantasy stories are about people discovering, accruing and using power, and/or trying to understand its origins and the dangers of its uses’. You have fundamentally (and I do mean fundamentally) modified Paul’s assertion.”
I think I can see the difference your pointing at between the two sentances, but I think maybe you meant to post this to a first year philosophy forum rather than this blog.
Furhermore, there is a significant difference between asserting something like that and constructing an argument that attempts to demonstrate it. I suspect you know your argument will focus on nit-picking a couple of words. Stating the focus of your nitpicking will render you vulnerable to challenge and counter nitpicking, so you’re avoiding it.
If not, go for it.
Make sure to cite the novels your using as support, as I intend to see which ones I want to read. Or maybe you also managed to convinve me that I cannot “take the assertion seriously without being given some idea of how many fantasy stories that person was familiar with and how diverse the selection was.” 😉
April 15, 2020 at 9:44 am
faustustnotes, I impugn nobody. People read what they like to read, and that’s fine. However, I suspect that there are many rpgnerds whose default sense of what ‘fantasy’ means is substantially narrower than what can reasonably be supposed to be included within the scope of that concept (see below).
Paul, I can easily produce significant examples of fantasy which are not stories about people using power, and I am prepared to do so. However, before I do so there are a couple of points I need to establish first.
One is that if I produce one of my examples, I can imagine the possibility of you (or somebody else, such as faustusnotes) responding ‘Oh, but that’s not fantasy’. It’s true that there isn’t one single clear and universally accepted definition of what fantasy means, and a work which one person reasonably considers to be fantasy another person might reasonably exclude from that category and include in some other genre instead. What I’m saying is that examples I could produce fall within widely accepted boundaries of the concept of fantasy.
Another is that if I produce one of my examples, I can imagine the possibility of you (or somebody else, such as faustusnotes) responding ‘Oh, but that story is about an individual using power’. If the definition of ‘using power’ is expanded sufficiently, every story is about using power. I got out of bed this morning: one might say that when I did so I was using my power to get out of bed. But if the definition is expanded that far, it doesn’t distinguish fantasy stories from any other kind. What I’m saying is that examples I could produce are not stories about individuals accruing and using power if the terms are defined in ways which meaningfully distinguish between some stories which are about individuals accruing and using power and other stories which are not.
I based my response to your assertion (which was to deny it) on my understanding of what is usually considered to be fantasy, and on my understanding of what it means for a story to be about an individual accruing and using power. For example, given that this discussion started off with Harry Potter, it might be worth mentioning that Harry Potter certainly falls within the scope of what I consider fantasy (I don’t imagine that’s controversial) and also that I think the Harry Potter stories can fairly be described as a narrative of an individual accruing and using power (although that’s not the only thing they’re about). So the examples I could produce would be examples which are as reasonably considered to be fantasy as the Harry Potter stories are, but are not stories about an individual accruing and using power in the way that the Harry Potter stories are.
I’m not saying that we must agree about definitions, only that if we disagree about definitions that can mean that what you say is true in terms of the definitions you are using whereas what I say is true in terms of the definitions you are using. Do you have a problem with that?
April 16, 2020 at 10:17 am
Just reread the end of my previous comment, and realised that what I meant to write is that if we disagree about definitions that can mean that what you say is true in terms of the definitions you are using whereas what I say is true in terms of the definitions I am using. Only one word’s difference, but it matters a lot!
Okay, here are just a few examples of stories which can reasonably be regarded as fantasy (and are often so regarded), but which are not about people accruing and using power (at least, not in the way in which the Harry Potter stories are).
The two ‘Alice’ books, by Lewis Carroll
‘Liane The Wayfarer’, by Jack Vance
The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster
The Lord Of The Rings, by JRR Tolkien
The Colour Of Magic, by Terry Pratchett
April 16, 2020 at 10:17 am
J-D
Make with the examples already.
April 16, 2020 at 10:33 am
J-D I think the lord of the rings is about accruing and using power… and it’s effects on those who use it. See eg the entire story of Frodo and Gollum
April 16, 2020 at 10:44 am
The Lord Of The Rings is about how a tremendous power must not be used. The Hobbit is a story about somebody accruing and using power, specifically Bilbo, who uses the power of invisibility which is the only power the ring has in that story (as well as developing as a character in ways which could be described as accruing and using power in a less concrete sense). In The Lord Of The Rings the Ring has tremendous (although only vaguely defined) powers, with invisibility being merely a minor side-effect, but those powers are not used: Gandalf refuses to use them; Galadriel refuses to use them; only at the last moment does Frodo announce that he is going to use them, but that’s a failure, and in the end it’s one he doesn’t act on, even if that’s only because he’s involuntarily prevented. In The Lord Of The Rings the forces of good succeed by renouncing power, not by using it; that’s a different kind of story from the Harry Potter stories.
April 16, 2020 at 7:02 pm
Lord of the Rings – about Sauron’s and Saruman’s lust for power; Denethor and Boromir’s inability to resist the temptations of power; Faramir (and Gandalf and Galadriel and Aragorn’s) converse ability to do so; Frodo and Sam developing the ability to see the nature of power and its temptations clearly; Merry and Pippin learn to use power wisely and well.
Alice I will grant.
Liane the Wayfarer: as a short story does not illustrate the point. I will say that Vance’s stories are more often portals into gloriously imagined worlds than narratives (with exceptions such as Emphyrio, the Asutra, the four Tschai novels and maybe the Demon Princes series – all of which involve the hero developing and using power).
Juster I do not know.
Pratchett – the Colour of Magic is a picaresque romp, but the series contains a great deal of thought on power, from the Patrician through Cohen to Polly in Monstrous Regiment.
April 17, 2020 at 8:14 am
“I can imagine the possibility of you (or somebody else, such as faustusnotes) responding ‘Oh, but that’s not fantasy’.”
Yeah. I see where you’re coming from. But I tend to allow a wide array of fantasy including Chinese Xianxia, contempory werewolf romances and anything else where someone casts a spell or see a fairy. I’d probably question stuff that’s more horror-y (e.g. H.P. Lovecraft) even though it meets the fantasy tropes I’d expect. I’d also rule out anything that has hints of the mogical but nothing clearly seen (e.g. Is Santa on Miracle on 34th Street really Santa?).
The reason I wouldn’t consider horror novels is because some other genre’s tropes trump fantasy tropes. For example, Gandalf facing Cenobites isn’t horror, it’s an angel protecting reality. But you or I facing Cenobites is horror and will end badly.
“If the definition of ‘using power’ is expanded sufficiently, every story is about using power.”
Yeah. I tend to agree with this. I’m curious why you didn’t try querying my interpretation of using power before you dismissed it.
To clarify, I do count various forms of power as qualifying, though I’d tend to restrict it to non-real or extreme forms of power. Learning a cantrip counts as using power, because I can’t do it, even though cantrips are low powered. I’d also count knowing how to use a sword skillfully or being able to command an army, despite the fact I could theoretically do it because, theory aside, I can’t. I wouldn’t count getting out of bed.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
I’m OK with being wrong. I sort of expect that there is a story that is slice of life for an elf working an office job. (I’m honestly curious what the book is.) This isn’t a debate where “losing” is going to cost me anything and it can gain me something. And if you “concede”, awesome – there is another accepted lazy short hand definition of fantasy that will have holes all through it – just like every other definition of fantasy. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
For the books you listed:
– LoTR fundamentally meets my criteria for accruing and using power. Even ignoring the one ring, Gandalf goes from being “the Grey” to “the White”. Pippin and Merry become warriors. Aragon becomes a king and leads an army.
– I haven’t read Liane the Wayfarer or the Phantom Tollbooth. Thank you for listing them, I’ll take this as a recommendation.
– The Alice books are interesting. I generally wouldn’t lump them in with fantasy in my head, but there’s no good reason for that. That said, Alice does defeat the Queen of Hearts by proclaiming they’re nothing but a pack of cards because she’s from the real world and becomes the (female) saviour figure. Right (my memories of the book are heavily tainted by movies)? I think the really interesting take away on this one is that I have a wierd dividing line in my head.
– Colour of Magic is a great counter example. It’s clearly fantasy and neither Rincewind or Twoflower has any material power. Hmm, though upon reflection, Rincewind saves the world using a hidden power within him. That’s almost an anime trope :-). I’m not sure which way I’d count this series, but generally the Discworld novels do focus on being a better person in a fantasy setting with power accrued being a secondary focus (e.g. Moist becomes the leader of important organisations and used that to shape the world, but that’s fairly secondary). Carrot carries around his invisible kingship, which explicitly shapes his character and the story, but uses it in a prosaic way. Grimes is just a guy. But Death and Time are literally Death and Time…
April 17, 2020 at 9:07 pm
“there is a story that is slice of life for an elf working an office job. (I’m honestly curious what the book is.)”
Some of Lawrence Watt-Evans’ Ethshar stories come close – a day in the life of a working magician.
April 18, 2020 at 7:26 am
If we want classics, de Camp’s Joriam of Ardamai novels are about a king trying to get rid of his crown and get rid of the regency council’s lever over him by freeing his favourite wife (kings are allowed several as compensation for the reason why he wants to give up his crown early) and his advisor’s lever over him in the form of a geas. In “Red Nails” Conan’s highest ambition is to bed a woman who is a better technical swordsman than him, and in “The Jewels of Gwahlur” he wants to get rich but has to choose between his daughter and his ducats. In any one story he is as likely to fall in society as rise. Niven’s The Magic Goes Away stories are about trying to prevent magic going away, for the most part characters lose power over time (or find that powers they had at the start of the story had a terrible cost).
Amongst personal favourites, Laurence Watt-Evans’ “The Misenchanted Sword” is about a scout trying to get rid of a magical artefact because its powers come with two big downsides, Donn Kushner’s “The Book Dragon” is about growing up, finding a vocation and a community, and dealing with evil men. None of these feature characters who save anything bigger than a friend’s life, or who are marked out as chosen for victory by vast cosmic forces (Joriam’s crown literally falls into his hands at a festival because he forgets to ask what they are celebrating, Warlock is a great wizard but his plan to bring magic back has a big flaw).
April 18, 2020 at 7:44 am
Also, I seem to recall that one of the twists in Harry Potter is that Voldemort was wrong about why the boy lived: it was not something about the boy, it was $spoiler. So she does play with the trope, but the boy is still rich, highly respected, and good at a prestigious sport, and he still helps decide the fate of the wizarding world after rejecting the bad aristocrats of the Malfoys.
April 18, 2020 at 2:56 pm
There are a number of interesting responses there, and I could give my own detailed reactions in turn, but I’m not sure how interested in them anybody would be, and I’m not even sure how interested I am in writing them out myself. So for now I’ll just throw out a few more examples that occur to me as potentially relevant:
Jurgen, by James Branch Cabell
The Other Wind, by Ursula Le Guin
Le Petit Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupéry
The Last Battle, by CS Lewis
April 18, 2020 at 5:18 pm
This thread has given me some interesting books to read, which I have a lot of time to spend on at the moment since I am trapped in a hospital bed recovering from a knee reconstruction.
I think it’s possible a lot of conan novels are not about accruing and using power, because he’s just an adventurer. Also Tark and the Golden Tide (a great Conan derivative) is a straight vengeance story. Maybe a lot of sword and sorcery stories fit in this vein? Also Cthulhu stories, which can be about glimpsing power and running away from it. Hmmm.
April 18, 2020 at 10:48 pm
In the 1960s and 1970s there were a lot of stories with big cosmic forces (Law and Chaos, History and Chance, the Elder Things of the Cthulhu Mythos) that wise people avoid or try to suppress or turn against one another.
I think that the closest to a “save the world” plot in the stories Conan told to Robert E. Howard is “Hour of the Dragon,” but even then Conan starts out as king with a harem, and ends a king with a harem and a bride-to-be. And that was supposed to be published as a novel in the UK in 1936 when you didn’t publish pulp in that form so he probably pulled out all the stops. It is later scribes who chronicled how Conan became king.
There is also the travelogue type of fantasy where the plot is less important than passing a group of characters through strange lands with their peculiar customs. There are some old Chinese Buddhist stories like that.
April 19, 2020 at 7:45 am
faustus – I trawl the fantasy slush piles semi-regularly for good indie authors. Author-sister Fallacious Rose puts monthly picks up on her blog, adding a few others. Last one up was November, what with fires and all, but new set out soon.
https://butimbeautiful.wordpress.com/
April 19, 2020 at 12:18 pm
Thanks for the tips peter, I’ll use that website!
April 20, 2020 at 9:22 pm
Thanks to all for their comments and recommendations. This quarantine just got a little easier.
I don’t 100% agree with the rebutal of my flippant discription of an incredibly broad genre, but the thrust is certainly that collectively you’ve demonstrated that “fundamentally” is a bad word to apply to the fantasy genre.
I’m reminded of an argument I had with my parents in my teens when they said I should read something other than fantasy. I replied I’d just read a fantasy detective novel and before that one where they saved the world (high fantasy?). But next to my parents bed were a stack of five modern world detective novels. At the time, I rejected the concept that fantasy is a useful genre descriptor, because “but with elves in it” can be applied to any type of novel.
Thank you to all of you for reminding me of that. I need to wander outside the easy sections of the fantasy genre again. Hopefully some of it is available for $5 on Kindle 😉
April 26, 2020 at 12:25 pm
Fallacious Rose now has this month’s picks up.
April 26, 2020 at 12:31 pm
I’m still reading one I got from her while I was in hospital!