Fantasy, Round Two

Tim Wadham 12 Nov 1997

I haven't posted to the list in quit a while. I'd like to hear from some people about fantasy, and specifically, why people dislike fantasy. I get the impression that there are a lot of people out ther for whom fantasy is not their favorit genre, not their first choice for reading. Some of the reasons I've come up with are that fantasy takes more effort to read, that people don't like wading through all the strange names in high fantasy novels, or that fantasy is somehow a male-oriented genre (although this seems an unfair generalization given the number of female authors of fantasy). I also see objections to fantsy as reading material for young people. People may object to the violence, or to the fact that fantasy is percieved as mearly "escapist" literature. I'm interested to get some input on these thoughts, and any others on why fantasy may be more of an acquired taste. I look forward to hearing what my colleagues have to say.

Tim,

I have been reading fantasy since I was pretty young (ex: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe) and I have come to a lot of the same conclusions that you have. I think fantasy and science fiction are very difficult genre's to understand and enjoy. I wouldn't necessarily call it an acquired taste, but I think you either like it or you don't. In my experience, if a person has family or friends that expose them to fantasy at a young age, they are more likely to grow up loving fantasy and passing that on to people close to them. I don't think of fantasy/scifi as escapist fiction, rather, I look at it as an opportunity to exercise my imagination. I work with children, and fantasy is a wonderful way to reach out and expand my imagination so that my storytimes and programs are the best that they can be.

13 Nov 1997 Jennifer Armstrong

Woops -- hit the send button too soon back there. I was about to say, I used to love high fantasy as a kid. I gobbled it up. As an adult, however, I find I have no patience for it at all, even the best of it. I still enjoy medium fantasy (is that the right term) such as Pullman's Golden Compass, but I can't stomach mages and dragons anymore. It all seems too arch to me. I wonder if there isn't too much mediocre fantasy out there making the stock-in-trade elements of high fantasy seem trite.

When I was teaching middle school full-time and trying to keep up with the tastes and interests of 60 mostly avid readers, the fantasy/science fiction section of our classroom library was by far the largest. Because the demand was so great, I made an honest effort to read as much fantasy as I could, at least one book in each popular series, but I finally concluded that I was born without the gene for magic. Whenever the physical laws of the universe as I know them are transgressed, my eyes start to glaze over and my attention wanders. Magic potions, spells, talismans, wizards, etc. represent, to me, the desire of powerless people to control their own destinies, while I prefer characters who rely on their own wits, luck, friends, and other aspects of the "real" world. I'm not defending this narrow perspective, just trying to be honest about it.

As I was writing this, the title of an Ursula LeGuin essay came to me, something like "Why Americans Are Afraid of Dragons." I don't remember much more about it than her contention that highly technological societies tend to disdain fantasy.

13 Nov 1997 Kathleen Duey

I write fantasy (medium, I suppose, not high fantasy) as well as all my historical fiction, though I have yet to publish it. I love the best of the genre, but have little patience with the swarm of high-fantasy, map-enhanced, glossary at the back, trees with knees, elves with twelve letter names, variety. But...a lot of kids love--and live in--these worlds. Part of the appeal is obviously identifying with the quest, the desire of almost every child to do something heroic, glorious, that changes the world and is never forgotten. And even though magic and destiny play roles in fantasy plots, usually there is pluck, wit and courageous persistence shaping the ultimate victory.

I came to Le Guin relatively late in life and career. Earthsea, and the coda book, *Tehanu*, simply, as the kids say (or used to say), blew me away. In contrast to Gloria Pipkin's characterization of fantasy, or high fantasy, as the mode for those who haven't the wherewithal either politically or morally to deal with "real life," I'm convinced by Le Guin's own words on the issue. Some of these are quoted by Gloria, and are well worth considering. In fact there is a biographical-critical-anthology titled *The Language of the Night* that contains the essence of what Le Guin is up to in her fantasy works. In short, it's hard not to take her at her own word that fantasy is the only way to get at "reality" these days. Combine that with her performance in Earthsea, and the notion of fantasy as a cutsey arch "take" on life using wizards, and dragons and magic potions--at least as practised by this consummate artist--becomes simply untenable.

No surprise, I guess: put me down as a Le Guin follower.

Personally I don't care for fantasy as much as other genres. My reasoning being that it is hard to relate the names and places in the book to situations I am familiar with. It is much easier to relate to a character that has a name you can pronounce and understand as well as a place or time period we can recognize. I am trying to overcome this by reading some fantasy books and getting used to the format they use. As for the notion that it is escapism...isn't reading any fiction book, whether it is fantasy or contemporary fiction, a way of escaping from our own lives and living the life that exists between the pages of a good book? While fantasy might not be for everyone I think it is important to examine and explore at least one title before you make that decision. If you are working in a library and helping patrons with finding books I think it is necesary to at least be familiar with all the genres, even if it means only reading a few books in each one, so we can better serve them.

Tim and anyone else interested, you might want to take a look at the Children's Literature Assembly Bulletin (which has since become Journal of Children's Literature) 14, no. 3, Fall, 1988, pp. 18-23 where there is a pair of articles on this question. Mine is entitled "What's Wrong with High Fantasy?" and the other by Kathleen Holland is "Fantasy for Children Needs No Defense."

The core of my argument was that the created worlds of high fantasy fall short of the complexity and wonders of the real world, that living too much in a created, artificial world can blind us, and children to the wonders and intricacies of a natural world that is much more intricate and wonderful and elegant in its designs than anything designed by human beings. This is not to say that I don't find a place for created worlds -- any kind of literature provides a created world, after all -- and I found the best of high fantasy -- for me LeGuin and Tolkien -- quite marvellous -- while the worst seemed full of stereotyped grand clashes between the forces of light and the forces of darkness.

It is interesting to think about this now in the context of virtual reality -- something that didn't exist 10 years ago when this piece was written.

Let me also add that I've always loved the magic realism kind of fantasy -- things like time slips and books where one moves between the borders of the real and possibly unreal -- Tom's Midnight Garden kinds of books, and fairy tales.

And then there's my favorite quote from Charlotte's Web -- sorry I don't have time to look it up at the moment -- in which Dr. Dorian when questioned by Mrs. Arable comments that he sees that the fact that a spider can spin a web at all is a miracle, so why should words in the web be considered with such amazement?

I want to ditto one important point in Sharyn's post. Fantasy and sf do show young people doing Really Big Stuff. I mean, they don't fight some creepy kid at school, they fight Evil. When they win, it means a lot to a lot of people.

I felt, when I was a kid, that I didn't want anything realistic, with a bittersweet ending. I didn't want to re-cap life, I wanted something else.

(Actually, I still feel that way.)

Uplifting fiction--sure, fantasy and sf. The Pern books--most teachers like Dragonsong because it's about the only one without any sex.

What about Mercedes Lackey? The first book of _Queen's Own_ (Is it _Arrows of the Queen? I can't remember) is good--not the best-written book in the world, but it grabs you into it and makes you really feel with the heroine.

_Like Sisters on the Homefront_ is realistic, sort of, but uplifting, too.

You know, it's a pity that the kids who are most likely to read gloomy stuff are also the thoughtful, perhaps a bit gloomy, kids.

I haven't yet read all of the postings to this subject, but I wanted to leap in even so. I work with lots of middle readers and teens in the schools, and the majority of the best readers love fantasy. Why? Simple.

First, it's unashamedly escapist -- think of what they're reading for school, and how it serves as a well-needed break. Second, it's a genre with a lot of strong female characters -- characters who girls love and boys admire.

Third, you can read both "up" (adult) and "down" (children's) for the rest of your life; fantasy readers are fond of re-reading their favorites, which are NEVER perceived as babyish (i.e., L'Engle, Alexander). Fourth, it's a springboard to all sorts of subjects -- medieval history, military history, cultural history and sociology, magic and sorcery, animal caretaking, the traditional narratives of the period. Fifth, they often deal with ethical and moral issues that teens would otherwise not choose to read about (because they're "heavy"), giving them food for thought.

As you can imagine, I could list reasons upon reasons. These are the first that came to mind; sorry that they're in random order. I know that when I walk into a classroom with a stack of novels to booktalk, the fantasy novels are going to go first, and be devoured. Long may they wave.

For people on the list who assert that children don't like fantasy, how do you account for the popularity of Brian Jacques? There will always be readers who don't make the leap from reality to fantastic (or from the ridiculous to the sublime) but I know of many teachers who have given countless young people the courage to make the leap and become lifelong readers of a wider range of literature as a result. BetteBosma

Liannea,

What's so wonderful about the real world that high fantasy is missing? The whole point of high fantasy is to escape reality. The wonderful thing is that through this escape we learn more about ourselves and our reality to deal with it better. For me, the Alice books are the ultimate wonder. I think Carroll sums it up in one sentence spoken by the White Queen: '"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. ""When I was your age...I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." (Bantam Books: New York, 1981, p.157)

Reality is believing in possible things. That's easy!

I have read very little fantasy, but I'm wondering: are girls more often portrayed as strong and resilient because it's a fantasy world? Meaning, are girls stronger than boys in this genre? If that's the case, why is it not "realistic" for girls to be the hero? Why it is unrealistic for boys to be scared, weak, dependent, or wrong?

I know that's probably quite a generalization to make--putting all fantasy books in one pile--since there are so many levels of quality. Still, it's a question that's been on my mind.

I've only read A Wrinkle in Time, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, The Hobbit, The Keeper of the Isis Light, and Pullman's His Dark Materials series.

Thanks, as always, for the discussion--

This, as some on the list know, is a great interest of mine. Some years ago I raised the same question. The thread must be archived somewhere. I've always loved fantasy literaure and always have students who love it too fourth graders). Often, I am able to introduce children to it with great success. Currently, I have a number of students deep into Patricia Wrede's "Dealing with Dragons" who had previously not cared for fantasy literature. When I was working on my book on teaching fantasy literature I aske= d my students to tell me about their fantasy play. I had noticed less and less over the years and wondered why. Some told me they had played with act= ion figures when "younger" but now were too busy. When they fantasized at all it was about sports. Last year I was relieved to see a group play a complex Star Wars type fantasy game at recess. I sometimes think it is more about what adults are communicating to children about fantasy. Many adults have a hard time with it and probably unconsciously direct children towards realistic fiction as a result. In our previous Child_lit discussions on this several participants who teach college l= evel children's literature courses remarked on how much some of their students disliked fantasy. Actually, from where comes the idea that children don't like it? That hasn't been my experience at all. Very young children love it. Picture books are full of fantasy. Perhaps older children don't like it?

We so often note that the enthusiasm of the delivery increases the enjoyment of the students. It is imperative that we take this to heart. We must model interest and be unafraid to go all out in displaying our excitement. Children deserve our respect and should be encouraged to develop their interests and find new interests by our caring enough to develop learning with excitement. Otherwise, how can we promote lifelong learners. I work to get this across to my preservice and inservice teachers and I share it with you. A good teacher is not the one who knows everything but rather the one who encourages students to want to learn.

It has been quite an interesting thread so far. As Monica mentioned, you can find the older discussion on this topic at my website -- disc/fantasy.html

Of course, we are mainly talking about High Fantasy here but I want to share with you what a six-grade reader just recently shared with me the reason why she stopped reading those "magic books". Apparently, to her, books with magical elements in them have become babyish and unimportant because they don't address "real" and "hard" issues dealt with in realistic novels such as Katherine Paterson's work (This girl is a great Paterson fan.) To her, reading books with "weight" and firmly rooted in real life is a token of her own "maturity."

I tried to point out ot her that certain "magic" (or si-fi) books actually examine human nature from even Deeper and fresher angles (such as _Eva_, _The Giver_, and _Tuck Everlasting_) but she seemed skeptical of my conviction.

Is it true that this world is divided into "fantasy readers" and "non-fantasy readers"?

Gender in fantasy--In a fantasy novel, an author can have a more-or-less gender equal world, without having to -justify- it all the time. Women ride, fight, use swords. Not like reality at all.

Reading fantasy, like reading SF, may be a habit you're better off acquiring young. The type of fantasy that takes place altogether in another world needs some of the same skills that SF needs--the ability to pick up clues that tell you what kind of world it is, and the patience to leave some things unexplained for a while.

I am one of those people who don't like fantasy. I have never really been able to "get into" fantasy, even as a child. I am not sure why. Even as a small child, however, I didn't really enjoy fantasy.

Perhaps this is because I have always viewed reading fiction as entering a world in which I might have lived. I love historical fiction because it introduces me to what my life might have been like had I lived 100 or 200 or 500 years ago. I enjoy regional fiction because it shows me how my life might have been different if I lived in Appalachia or the midwest. It is fun to read about members of different cultures because I like learning how those people live.

But fantasy isn't real enough for me. I guess I am not really interested in making the jump to how beings who don't exist live or how life would be in places which can't support life. I am a strong animal lover, but I have never much liked books in which animals talk, either. Of course, I try to read some fantasy anyway, and there are some fantasy books I adore, but as a genre, it really doesn't work for me.

This is a personal response, thought out as I was writing. I don't know why others don't like fantasy, but I'd love to find out!

I've noticed something that interests me in the discussion of liking and not liking fantasy. Some people say they like it because it ISN'T real (it's an escape, etc.), and on the other hand, some people say they like it because it IS real (along the lines of LeGuin's idea that a fantasy setting allows a writer the freedom to explore real concerns with some honesty). Meanwhile, people who say they don't like fantasy have focussed on its lack of realism, their inability to identify with it or see its relevance to their own existences, etc. What interests me is that so far, no one has expressed the fourth term of this pair of opposites--the position that they don't like fantasy because it's too realistic.

If there's any validity in the LeGuin theory--and I personally think there is--then might that also be a possibility? Perhaps the fiction we can easily identify as being realistic is the fiction that most satisfies what we already like to believe or pretend to believe to be true about reality--and is therefore comforting to us, an escape into complacency; whereas fantasy might well be asking us to acknowledge aspects of our actual reality, present as or allowed by fantasy elements, that we don't particularly want to recognize or accept as being real?

I happily acknowledge the existence of huge numbers of fantasies for children and adults that are anything but unsettling, and that merely represent tired versions of desperately overused pseudo-medieval or other antiquated fantasy conventions. Even so, good fantasies can and often do manage to move past the conventional, and do tend to be dangerous.

Consider, for instance, stories for young children about talking animals. The danger in them becomes clear if you imagine for an instant that the characters are human beings and not animals. Would E.B. White get away with describing how a boy named Wilbur is incarcerated and threatened with death by a group of cannibals? Would Beatrix Potter seem so charming if Peter Human was an accomplished thief and was threatened with instant death by the property owner McGregor? Putting an animal or some other fantasy character in the position a child might occupy--and that a child reader is most often invited to identify with--allows a writer to explore a whole range of emotional and sexual and intellectual and religious concerns that would be forbidden or at least very surprising in a story about human children. For that matter, the very idea of animals who talk functions as an interesting (and unsettling) metaphor for human lives and specifically for the relationship of human minds to human bodies and bodily functions--a subject generally considered controversial in books for children about human children.

My own experience as a writer of fiction is that I can get away with what I see as a far more honest depiction of childhood life and thought far more easily in the context of fantasy. When my character Johnny Nesbit confronted weird fairies and changelings and Cowalkers in The Same Place But Different and A Completely Different Place, he could have all sorts of thoughts about death and violence and about his own bodily functions and desires. But my new book, Behaving Bradley (coming out next spring), is a realistic book, i.e., with no fantasy elements, and intended for a slightly older and more sophisticated audience than the fantasies--and I found that friends who read the drafts were often distressed by exactly the same kinds of ideas or emotions that they accepted without comment in the fantasies. As much as I enjoyed writing Bradley (and did, despite some friendly advice to the contrary, keep it as honest and dangerous as I'd first conceived it), I've decided I much prefer doing fantasy, exactly because it allows me to be more easily and acceptably honest and realistic.

Unfortunately, however, I may not get the chance. Fantasy for older children and young adults is less marketable than it once was, exactly for the reason that has come up more than once in this thread--the conviction of the adults who deal with children's books that older children and young adults no longer much like to read fantasy, so there's little point in producing much of it or buying much of it for libraries. If it's actually true that they don't like fantasy--and I hope it isn't--then it worries me a lot, because it seems to me to mean that we've managed to produce a generation of children who are much too committed to one limited view of what reality is and much too afraid of new ideas and dangerous possibilities in themselves and their world.

Reading the various posts about fantasy and gender I recalled a column I had written (for my local paper) reviewing dragon fantasy books (my apologies to the contributor who can't bear yet another dragon!). The first paragraph reads, "Dragons: fire-breathing menaces or telepathic allies? The literary image of dragons is changing. Contemporary children's novels frequently feature dragons as valued friends, comrades-in-arms, and noble bearers of ancient wisdom. Meanwhile, adolescent girls ("maidens" in earlier times), previously the preferred repast of dragons, now appear as their allies. And boys, formerly dragon slayers, have become dragon protectors. Saint George and Siegfried would never recognize their old opponents." I went on to review "Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher" by Bruce Coville; ("Weird Henry Berg" is also a good candidate); Susan Fletcher's series starting with "Dragon's Milk"; Patricia Wrede's Enchanted Forest Chronicles starting with "Dealing With Dragons" (mentionned by Monica E. and others earlier, I believe); and Lawrence Yep's series starting with "Dragon of the Lost Sea." Of course, there are still antagonist dragons around (and probably comestible young women); but as I thought about it while writing the column I realized that both girls' and boys' have changed in these kinds of stories, with the girls sometimes being assertive action initiators and the boys being nurturing. I imagine this reflects (and explores) the changing views about gender. Fantasy can reflect and develop an era's developments no less than realistic fiction. Janet Zarem

Correction to my most recent post: that's "both girls' and boys' role expectations."

In a message dated 97-11-15 12:51:48 EST, you write:

"Fantasy for older children and young adults is less marketable than it once was, exactly for the reason that has come up more than once in this thread--the conviction of the adults who deal with children's books that older children and young adults no longer much like to read fantasy, so there's little point in producing much of it or buying much of it for libraries."

I wonder how the outstanding sales of Phillip Pullman's latest books fit in this equation. Along with the aforementioned Brian Jacques, he seems to be leading a revival of sorts, and I haven't seen proof that older children are choosing to read fantasy any less now than in the last 20 years--LeGuin, Tolkein, and Cooper all continue to sell well to both children and adults.

So how can we support this factually instead of anecdotally? Or is the marketing and sales aspect not the point? Writers have been told by publishers that the market for fantasy is soft, but the facts do not seem to bear this out.

Tali writes: "What's so wonderful about the real world that high fantasy is missing?"

It seems to me that there are a lot of pretty wonderful things about the real world: babies, animals, fall leaves, spider webs, random acts of kindness, words and languages, humor, books, imagination, art, music, research, theory, daffodils, Christmas trees, puns, fancy coffees, the internet, sunshine, integrity, effort, wind, peanut butter ...

Sorry, I don't mean to sound like Pollyanna, and I don't mean to put down fantasy either. But it seems to me that no imagined world could possibly be as wonderful as this real world in which we live.

I know this sounds corny, but I can't say what I mean in any less corny way.

Of course I can't speak for others who generally dislike fantasy, but for me I don't think this rings true. I do generally like 'disturbing' books and when I do enjoy a fantasy novel, it tends to be one of the disturbing ones such as Eva or The Giver.

Having said that, though, I do have to admit that what ruined Charlotte's Web for me as a child was not that Wilbur might have been killed and eaten, and not that Charlotte died. Even as I child, I accepted death as an unavoidable fact of life. I was most upset that Charlotte died alone. I felt it was very selfish of Wilbur to take Charlotte's egg sac with him so Charlotte didn't even have her unborn babies with her when she died. So perhaps in this way Charlotte's Web was indeed too realistic for me.

On Sat, 15 Nov 1997 11:43:27 -0600, Perry Nodelman wrote:

"I've decided I much prefer doing fantasy, exactly because it allows me to be more easily and acceptably honest and realistic.

Unfortunately, however, I may not get the chance. Fantasy for older children and young adults is less marketable than it once was, exactly for the reason that has come up more than once in this thread--the conviction of the adults who deal with children's books that older children and young adults no longer much like to read fantasy, so there's little point in producing much of it or buying much of it for libraries. If it's actually true that they don't like fantasy--and I hope it isn't--then it worries me a lot, because it seems to me to mean that we've managed to produce a generation of children who are much too committed to one limited view of what reality is and much too afraid of new ideas and dangerous possibilities in themselves and their world."

I usually simply lurk, (primarily because I'm buried in schoolwork), but MUST respond to this! As a teacher of "young adults" (9-12 grade), I can assure you that fantasy is a favorite. However, adult fantasy books are much more accessible to high school readers than adult realistic novels (though they read those, too). One of my students shared some adult fantasies in a series with me, and I found them as readable as YA. In addition to pure fantasy, science fiction is big. The number of Star Wars and Star Trek devotees is staggering, and they read SW/ST books over and over. Now we have x-Files type fantasy, which is also loved. It astounds me how many "GT" students love both X-files and SW/ST.

Ironic! I love realism and am always trying to "push" S.E. Hinton or Cynthia Voigt. I, personally, have trouble reading sf or fantasy, but do enjoy Bradbury, Vonnegut, and Tolkein, once I get started.

I also was successful in "pushing" regular reading time in English classes at my school! This is becoming more and more important because of the intense schedules of high school students. Even those who like reading rarely find time.

This post could also be called "Why I Like Fantasy and Science Fiction by Karen L. Simonetti", but please don't grade it! Its just that both Perry's and Chris' posts got me thinking/writing...

As a child, my father started reading fantasy books to my younger brother and myself at about six years old. Really, I could sit through The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings without any problem. Then, there was A Wrinkle in Time, a book I most treasured. (Note: My Mom being a teacher, I was usually reading two grade levels ahead of my actual grade/age. Of course, now I cannot spell and my grammar is horrific ...but that's another science fiction story.) To the best of my recollection, around 5th grade I left fantasy for science fiction and historical fiction (as recreational reading choices) because as Chris wrote "it introduces me to what my life might have been." =20

As an adult, I was reintroduced to fantasy and catch this...I didn't even realize it was a fantasy! I was reading Lucie Babbidge's House by Sylvia Cassedy and believed every single word. (The 11 year old child lives a secret life with her handmade dolls who become more and more active as the story progresses.) I was horrified and shocked when I went to class (curse you Roger Sutton) and people were actually qualifying the book as a fantasy, something that did not or could not happen. I thought it was a wonderful story that really happened and someone just took the time to write it down. Without sounding completely looney this Sunday morning, I'm going to resort to quote Sheila Egoff (Thursday's Child: Trends and Patterns in Contemporary Children's Literature. Chicago: American Library Association, 1988. p. 266): "Modern fantasists...engender a sense of wonder in readers, not so much by making us realize that the fantastic and the real can coexist, as by convincing us that they already do so." And I couldn't agree more!

These days I read lots of fantasy (high/low/whatever) written and marketed for adults (that Booklist thinks may be suitable for YAs) and I love every single world I travel through. (Okay, some of the world building gets a little too detailed for the average day. But, give me a map and a list of characters & I'm usually content.) I know a number of YAs, who if they are not already reading fantasy or science fiction, are playing fantasy or "conquer the world" games on their computer. These YAs and YAs reading horror will very often take me up on some of my fantasy suggestions and usually they like it! (In further support, see Nancy Pridgen's post of earlier this day...BTW, thanks Nancy for "unlurking" and sharing what sounds like a wonderful thing you've got going with YAs exploring & sharing their readings.)

Perry, I think your following statement is really the core of the fantasy "dilemma" (my bolding added for emphasis):

Well, its off to read the Sunday newspapers where I'm sure I'll find a whole bunch of reality that reads like fantasy...and boy do I wish it were...

In response to me mentioning "the conviction of the adults who deal with children's books that older children and young adults no longer much like to read fantasy, so there's little point in producing much of it or buying much of it for libraries," Walter wrote:

"I wonder how the outstanding sales of Phillip Pullman's latest books fit in this equation. Along with the aforementioned Brian Jacques, he seems to be leading a revival of sorts, and I haven't seen proof that older children are choosing to read fantasy any less now than in the last 20 years--LeGuin, Tolkein, and Cooper all continue to sell well to both children and adults.

So how can we support this factually instead of anecdotally? Or is the marketing and sales aspect not the point? Writers have been told by publishers that the market for fantasy is soft, but the facts do not seem to bear this out.

I have some thoughts about this.

First, I wonder if we aren't talking about two different markets--one for new hard cover fiction, and a second for paperbacks. New hard-cover children's novels sell primarily to a library market--in my experience, you almost never find more than a few hard-cover novels by already well-known writers even in otherwise excellent children's book stores. This means that the purchasers of new children's fiction in hard cover are mostly professionals, and since there are far more school libraries than public ones, the purchases tend to relate primarily to educational concerns. It's easier to sell, for instance, historical fiction to this market than fantasy, especially if it relates to historical areas frequently represented on curricula across the continent. Given limited budgets, many libraries make books that seem to represent no educational value other than the pure pleasure of reading the lowest of priorities. And they tend to put fantasy in that category--it's not real, so how can it be educational?

Meanwhile, the paperback market includes not just professional educators and librarians, but parents and grandparents and sometimes even children themselves, buying at bookstores or book fairs or ordering through school-distributed catalogs. I suspect that for that reason it better represents the tastes and interests of children themselves and those that love them and want to please them--and an astonishing amount if it is indeed fantasy, including not just books by writers like Pullman, but also all that series fantasy, as in Animorphs and Goosebumps. Writers can and do produce fantasy for this market. Unfortunately, most of it is of the series variety, safely replaying old themes for a mass audience. A different bottom line operates here--what appeals to the most conventional popular taste as opposed to what fulfills educators' and librarians' needs--but there is nevertheless a bottom line.

There has to be of bottom line, of course--publishing is a business, and the major purpose of a publishing company is making a profit for its shareholders, not anything so idealistic as furthering education or giving pleasure to readers. So it is and so it must be. The thing is, publishers used to be able to make money publishing unusual and unsettling books that educated and gave pleasure. What distresses me is that the current perceptions of adults (teachers, librarians and others) about the needs of children, and also, the influence of mass-marketing on the tastes and interests of children themselves, have made it less and less possible for publishers to profit from the publication of new and unusual fiction--especially fantasy fiction.

In this field of depressing possibilities, someone like Pullman is a refreshing--and, I think, telling--exception. His work was first published in Britain (as incidentally, I believe, was Brian Jacques, the other writer Walter mentions), where different curricular needs and values, and different ideas about children's reading, make the publication of fresh and unconventional fantasy a much more viable option than it is in the U.S. In fact, it's interesting to me to notice how often the startling or daring books on the lists of U.S. publishers--many of them fantasies--were originally published elsewhere in the English-speaking world, in Britain, Australia, New Zealand, even in my own country of Canada. Publishers in the U.S. seem to be more willing to take a chance on innovative or unusual books that were previously published elsewhere than they are on producing such books on their own. And when a book as entertaining as The Golden Compass does, therefore, get published, it does find an audience and make a profit. There is, clearly, a market for unusual fantasy--although it interests me that The Golden Compass has been published in paper in a format that makes it look like an adult fantasy that just happens to have a child as a central character, thus making it palatable both to adult readers and to the kind of children who believe they are too mature for children's fantasy. The appearance of the book itself declares the publisher's conviction that you can't successfully market something that looks specifically like children's or young adult fantasy.

One final thought about this, related to Nancy Pridgen's comment that "because of the intense schedules of high school students . . . .even those who like reading rarely find time." I suspect that's the real problem here: that fewer and fewer children keep reading much of anything at all for pleasure once they get past the Goosebumps/Animorph years. I keep hearing from writer friends who have been told by a variety of different editors and publishers in both Canada and the U.S. that the publication of any young adult fiction at all, realistic or fantastic, is increasingly less viable. Meanwhile, the young college students I teach have vast repertoires of knowledge about TV and movies, but only a small percentage of them does any reading for pleasure at all. Even the most best-selling of best-selling books in the U.S. does, say, three million copies--that is, about one in every hundred Americans, leaving 99 others--99 per cent of the populace--plonked down in front of their TV sets. Meanwhile, literary fiction hardly sells at all, and a children's hardcover novel that does, say, 5000 copies, is considered a success. Think about those figures in relation to the number of Americans who will see any given network TV show--the shows get dumped as unsuccessful and unviable if they get no more than ten million or so viewers an episode. We live in a world where most people get their stories, fantastic or realistic, from media other than books.

I started writing this last night, but decided it needed the clear light of day. I've enjoyed reading the comments that have come in this morning, and I especially liked Chris Saad's catalog of what's wonderful about the real world.

On Sat, 15 Nov 1997, Perry Nodelman wrote:

"What interests me is that so far, no one has expressed the fourth term of this pair of opposites--the position that they don't like fantasy because it's too realistic..... [snip -- f.]"

I suspect that the best of high fantasy does bring us close to a certain reality, and that this is the kind of fantasy that even those who do not care for high fantasy might relate to, although it might take extra effort. I'm not sure why some of us prefer fantastical real worlds for escape reading, while others prefer totally created worlds. I'm more likely to find both escape and something deeper in reading a true life adventure story about an arctic explorer, than in reading about a warrior (male or female) on horseback with sword in hand fighting some ferocious enemy that represents the powers of darkness. The best of "realistic" fiction is also disturbing and thought-provoking.

I didn't tell the whole truth earlier in discussing some of my reservations about "high fantasy" -- defined as fantasy set in a secondary or created world -- but I suspect my uneasiness involves a suspicion that the author of this created world has stacked the cards to present a particular view of "reality," that conforms to the "reality" of a particular point he or she wishes to make -- not that writers of "realistic" fiction don't also select and emphasize to make their points.

For me it all goes back to allegories like Spenser's Faerie Queene and Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. I didn't like them. They were not real, but simply vehicles created to send me messages about living the good life, perseverance, and the glory of Queen Elizabeth I, etc. And I get the same feeling from a lot of fantasy writing -- that this world has been created to send me a message, and that the author's ulterior motives are showing badly.

Even though I've read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to my children, and admired a lot of things about it, I basically have reacted to it with suspicion, and have found Narnia an unconvincing world, especially when it comes to bloody battles and Aslan as a Christ figure -- that's when I want to holler, "Stop! Too much!" As a result, even though I know I _should_ read more of the Narnia books, they are something I just haven't gotten around to and that I suspect I'm avoiding. The same thing with most of Susan Cooper's Dark Is Rising series, of which I've read a couple, and of Alexander's Prydain -- I've not been able to bear to read beyond the Book of Three. Although with them it is not so much the setting, but the struggles that I just can't get myself to believe in.

On the other hand, some high fantasy is convincing, and although it takes extra effort to feel at home in these created worlds, the books are good enough that it is worth it. So, I've read all of the Lord of the Rings and would willingly reread them, although they are not the kind of thing I'd turn to for escape or light reading, and also the Earthsea books, of which Tehanu is a favorite I'd probably choose to have with me on a desert island, although it is the human relationships I treasure, and I don't really find the dragon very interesting. Somehow the worlds created in Earthsea and Middle Earth took on a life of their own for me, as though, perhaps, their creators really believed in their reality. Somehow Tolkien's forests had real trees in them, different kinds of trees with falling leaves and changing seasons, and I need this!

But, what an effort to create an entirely new world, and what an effort to attempt to understand it. I remember reading John Marsden's _Journey_ and being terribly bothered that I didn't have a clue as to where this world was, how it was like and how different from our own, whether people had electricity, or cars -- what the technology was. I gradually learned to live with the uncertainties and enjoyed the book -- although not as much as if I'd had some more definite clues about what kind of world this really was.

Even Earthsea, I'm not sure now what it is really like, and that does bother me. Do these islands look more like Hawaii or like the Hebrides? I picture them as far northern European -- as though there were some unknown islands beyond the Hebrides -- but I'm not sure why I have imagined them this way.

I always want to know what kinds of plants live in a place, what the climate is, and what the buildings look like. How the air smells and whether it is dry or damp, or hot or cold. What people eat and how they grow their food. And I don't want to have to spend pages and pages having all this described to me. Which is why a story set in the "real" world or some copy of it is more comfortable. I don't think it has anything to do with deep truths or psychological reality. When I read a European folktale, I bring to it a complete setting based partly on what I know and partly on what I imagine. When the word "forest" appears I can choose the kind of forest it will be and modify my mental image if other clues are given, but I won't be imagining a tropical jungle for my European folktale or a Southwestern desert or mountain setting. (Interesting question: I wonder if some people do imagine other geographical settings for, say, Hansel and Gretel or Snow White? -- there's the wonderful N.C. Wyeth color plate for Snow White which shows her in a dark tropical forest with ravens overhead and lions, tigers, bears, baboons, large snakes and apes of all kinds surrounding her.)

In a book like Dickinson's Eva, on the other hand, I felt that with the clues given I could picture the settings to my satisfaction. And if I know a book is set in England, say, I have a number of "standard English settings" that I mentally plug in, and the same for other parts of the world. But how do we do this with a totally created world?

Maybe some of us need the security of settings we can visualize more than others do? It is not that I can't imagine completely imaginary settings, but they are often not very complete. For example, the setting of McKinley's The Blue Sword leaves me feeling very uneasy and unsupported, while that of Beauty seems to have enough clues that I feel comfortable.

As for books like Lucie Babbidge's House and Behind the Attic Wall -- no problem for me. They are real. I _am_ a person who has no problem believing six impossible things before breakfast, but I want to know where I am. Alice in Wonderland troubled me tremendously as a child because everything constantly changed -- there were no ground rules, there was no firm ground from which to launch into the craziness, and I found it terrifying. Maybe as an adult I can see the underlying logic in the illogic, so it doesn't scare me anymore -- it now seems as real, if not more real than much of what we call reality. Maybe if as a child I'd had a sympathetic adult to read Alice with me, I would have had enough grounding to take the risks it offered?

The fantasy in a book like Cormier's Fade certainly leads one close to uncomfortable serious truths and questions in a way a totally "realistic" book would not. I don't have any trouble with Wrinkle in Time either, and have no trouble accepting dream worlds or fantasy worlds or future worlds as a way of getting at things we can't see because they are too close to our "real" world.

I guess my problem is that so many of these secondary world seem cobbled together out of handed-down stereotypical or conventional images, and as someone else wrote, please spare me another dragon -- unless it is a very special dragon or quite grounded in folklore.

I also wonder about the supposed unpopularity of fantasy. I don't see evidence of this, either. And what about the popularity of Like Water for Chocolates for adults... isn'tt his fantasy?

Saad, Shahnaz wrote:

"It seems to me that there are a lot of pretty wonderful things about the real world: babies, animals, fall leaves, spider webs, random acts of kindness, words and languages, humor, books, imagination, art, music, research, theory, daffodils, Christmas trees, puns, fancy coffees, the internet, sunshine, integrity, effort, wind, peanut butter ...[snip ... f.]"

And yet, when I read through your list of wonderful things in "this real world", I see "imagination" and doesn't fantasy take us into the realm of the imaginative even as it comes from the imaginative? And aren't Christmas trees a blending of the "real world" and the imaginative and are the pathway for some into a fantasy world where generosity and kindness are the norm? And what about art and music? Fantasy informs both.

Fantasy is one means by which the breadth and creativity of the human mind is expressed. To create a world and people that could not exist and yet the writer is able to make us believe that it could, and in some instances make us wish it did - how utterly amazing! Fantasy is as much a part of the real world as those things we normally call real.

The subject matter of fiction is human emotions and as Perry said, sometimes we can better confront some emotions if they are enacted in a fantasy world, or through animals than more directly. Fairy tales and folk tales serve the same function for us. The dichotomy between fantasy and reality is a false one. Reality has many many rooms. Some we like and some we don't and that's OK.

In a message dated 97-11-16 14:18:36 EST, Linnea writes:

" As for books like Lucie Babbidge's House and Behind the Attic Wall -- no problem for me. They are real. I _am_ a person who has no problem believing six impossible things before breakfast, but I want to know where I am"

This is why I love the Greene Knowe books, which I haven't seen mentioned here. (Although I didn't discover them until I was an adult, and haven't been able to sell any of my kids on them--not sure what this implies.)

There's nothing like having a voice of experience on the issue of fantasy, and in this case, having Perry's voice as the one is a bonus. There are a couple of things in his post worth further consideration, I think. First, it's clear that there is a considerable difference between what are cited as the same old, tired, pseudo-Medieval (or words to that effect) exercises in trying to interest (sell?) young minds on works of fantasy, and those written by such as Lewis, Tolkien and LeGuin. Those of LeGuin, particularly, seem to me to be oriented to an older (YA?) readership, and not to those likely to be fascinated with Nintendo. The works themselves and LeGuin's words about them and about the role of fantasy in our lives have convinced me that she's wholly serious in what she does and says. I find it very hard not to read her works as, among other things, an imaginative warning of what is happening to late 20th century western culture.

Second, I wonder how many possible readers are "turned off" serious fantasy (a new category?) by having had prior exposure to the multitude of video games that are clearly designed only to titillate and generate cash flow for their producers and marketers. Dungeons, dragons, and mages on a book's cover are likely to evoke an immediate response along the lines of "same old tired stuff" we've already seen in countless videos. So why bother?

Finally, I can't help reacting indignantly to an earlier post that noted a perception that *Tehanu* was just for "middle-aged women." If true, what reductionist and condescending view of a serious work by a great artist who has never given me the impression that she has fragmented her audience in that way.

I could not resist joining in this discussion.I believe many children and young adults still love fantasy.When you look at our rich heritage of fantasy literature from the well loved classics such as Mary Poppins,Paddington, Peter Pan,the Borrowers series to more recent fantasy additions such as The Boggart, The Witches,Dragon's Boy, and The Golden Compass ;I believe the need to lose oneself in the glorious worlds of magic and the unknown still exhists.These titles still circulate well in libraries and are still available in the marketplace.In fact, many have been filmed and refilmed by studios who think they can sell the public still one more version of the Borrowers , for instance.As a child I admit I loved fantasy,historical fiction, mysteries, even reading cereal boxes .However I was also a TV addict who watched as much as my parents would allow.Somehow,I managed to read several books a week as well(Using my flashlight under the blankets routine like hundreds of you out there)Somehow,I still believe in the value and wonder of good fantasy.Publishers seem to create trends but even the publishing world follows cycles.In five years you may hear publishers saying realistic novels don't sell only fantasy is marketable.It is a shame because both genres are worthy and deserve to be published!

I'm enjoying this discussion of fantasy, but wonder if someone could explain how high fantasy is defined, and is there also middle and low? And how does fantasy differ from magical realism (LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE)? Is Toni Morrison's BELOVED, with its ghostly elements, considered a kind of magical realism?

It seems to me that the label of fantasy gets in the way of some books that might defy definition. Do you consider THE MOORCHILD fantasy? I had to drag my 13 year old daughter to read it because she had determined she doesn't like "fantasy." She ended up loving it; THE GIVER is her favorite all-time novel, but she still thinks of herself as someone who doesn't like fantasy.

I've found Sheila Egoff's classifications of fantasy in the old edition Thursday's Child (it may be in her new one, too) helpful. She describes fantasy as "a literature of paradox," of "the real within the unreal, the credible within the incredible, the believable within the unbelievable." Then she breaks it down into categories such as (1) "epic and heroic" (which I'd also call "high fantasy") "with its cosmic battles and invaders from the mythic past." There's also the distinction between a story set entirely in a secondary or created world (Earthsea, Lord of the Rings), and a story where characters move between two worlds (go through the wardrobe door, as into Narnia), or where characters from the past or mythic times enter the "real" world (Susan Cooper's Dark Is Rising). (2) Enchanted realism, which depends upon a "distortion of time and space" (e.g. Green Knowe, Tom's Midnight Garden). Often these stories also rely on some kind of talisman or object or place that causes the transformation, such as the clock striking 13 in Tom's Midnight Garden, or the magic coin in Eager's Half Magic, or the game and the streets in the Rocks neighborhood in Playing Beatie Bow. (3) Beast tales and talking animals (e.g. Watership Down, perhaps Charlotte's Web), and (4) light fantasy, which "wears the mask of comedy," e.g. the works of Joan Aiken, and I suspect, Roald Dahl, and maybe Alice? Treehorn?

Then there's that "magical realism" that is so strong in Latin America -- I'd say Like Water for Chocolate partakes of this tradition, as does 100 Years of Solitude, and many other works, where the boundaries between the real and fanciful are practically non-existent and we constantly move and flow from one to the other.

I also think it is interesting that what is fantasy to one person may be "reality" to another. Don't all of us live in "fairy tale" worlds from time to time? Some people are much more open to unexplained, even mystical experiences than others -- where do we draw the line between "reality" and "fantasy"?

Looking through annotations under "fantasy" in my bibliography, there seem to be almost as many definitions and classifications of fantasy as there are writers on it, which is partly what causes difficulty when we discuss "fantasy." As Julius Lester says, fantasy is part of our real world and represents imagination.

Looking at it that way, any imaginative writing is fantasy of a kind, and even in novels that claim to be realistic, dreams and day dreams may play an important part. When I participated in a seminar course on fantasy, we each came up with various ways of defining and classifying fantasy, creating charts and webs and diagrams as well, and showing the connections with folktales and fairy tales on one end and science fiction on the other. I don't know if anyone has come up with any definitive classifications that are widely recognized and agreed upon.

"Only the mist is real," said Octavio Paz.

Would Joan Aiken's books, then, be magical realism?

You don't sound corny--or, if you do, it's because truth is seldom New. But I always liked fantasy. You mention in an earlier post that you liked literature of other times and places. I distinctly remember -not- liking that as a kid. I wanted only stuff that took place among middle class American or English kids. Odd. Even now, I'm not good at historical fiction, etc--I keep thinking, maybe the writer got it wrong. But throw in a bit of sorcery, a bit of telepathy, a horse that's really a guardian spirit--and I can tell my plodding, literalist self to go take a hike.

Maybe some of us can't accept a gentle invitation into another reality--maybe fantasy is the cattle prod we need.

I also could not resist this discussion. Many fantasy novels have been transformed on to the big screen. However, I find many children watching the film version of the novel instead of reading the novel itself. Many kids use this approach as a short cut to their homework.

Hi, everyone-

A friend forwarded the following to me, and I thought you might like to see it. I found it interesting when considered in the context of Perry's recent comments that fantasy may be too realistic for some readers. Where do fairy tales fit into this discussion of fantasy?

-----------------------------------------
A glance at the November/December issue of "ICON Thoughtstyle": Cleaning up children's literature

The best-known authors of children's literature may be responsible for encouraging their readers to be violent, sexist, or racist; or maybe the Brothers Grimm just told stories with an outdated sense of realism and justice. Jack Zipes, a professor of German and folklore at the University of Minnesota, considers the controversy over Jacob and Wilhelm Grimms' fairy tales in light of today's sensibilities. Dr. Zipes says that the scenes of graphic cruelty in the tales helped them to impress a code of ethics on their readers. In the past 50 years, however, the tales have been sanitized to make them more palatable to Americans who consider the eye-for-an-eye punishments inappropriate for children. Another casualty of that cleansing process is the stereotyping of gender roles. So today, children might read that the wolf in "Little Red Riding Hood" has a penchant for vegetables instead of grandmothers or that Cinderella has assertively refused the hand of the prince. (The magazine may be ordered from ICON Thoughtstyle Magazine, P.O. Box 1918, Marion, Ohio 43306-2018.)

Chris, one question with the below ...

"... Another casualty of that cleansing process is the stereotyping of gender roles. So today, children might read that the wolf in "Little Red Riding Hood" has a penchant for vegetables instead of grandmothers or that Cinderella has assertively refused the hand of the prince. (The magazine may be ordered from ICON Thoughtstyle Magazine, P.O. Box 1918, Marion, Ohio 43306-2018.)"

In what way does the traditional depiction of carnivorous wolves constitute a form of gender stereotyping?

Good question, Michael.

Perhaps it has to do with the helplessness of the grandmother...

Ah, I didn't think of that. The vegetable through me off! (Ageism, too, then, maybe?)

Actually, Egoff puts Aiken under light fantasy -- the humorous category. But of course, these categories are far from water tight!

Or maybe it has to do with "real men don't eat quiche?" ;-)

On Nov 18, 5:13pm, Michael Joseph wrote:

"The vegetable through me off! "

And is absolutely *mortified* about it. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? I am George, I am

Linnea, very interesting. I don't notice settings much, even in the real world, so I wouldn't notice if the fantasy ones aren't especially vivid. What I notice is whether the voices are true. For instance, _The Last Unicorn_ was, in my opinion, not one of Peter Beagle's best, because of tonal inconsistancy.

Leguin has an article on this, in, I think, her book, _The Language of the Night.

On Nov 19, 10:01am, Bonita Kale wrote:

"Male = predator = carnivorous. No?"

Male =/= wolf?

Hi Jennifer.I agree some children do indeed watch a movie rather than read a book just as students sometimes use study notes as a way to avoid reading a book.However, I also have noticed that when a filmed version of a book comes out, the public become very interested in reading the original book.I am speaking from a public library background.I also admit that I am an optimist and tend to view things through rosy coloured glasses but that may explain the something intangible in my personality that loves all kinds of fantasy and science fiction.

You're right Isobel, people really become interested when the film version of a book comes out. For instance, Emma Thompson screenplay version of Sense and Sensibility written by Jane Austin. Afterall, the book is always better. Jennifer O'Brien

Michael Joseph wrote:

"Male =/= wolf?"

Interesting thought... Have any of you read Annette Curtis Kluase's _Blood and Chocolate_ yet? But that will put us right back into fantasy, oh well.

Reply to message from mjoseph@rci.rutgers.edu of Wed, 19 Nov

"On Nov 19, 10:01am, Bonita Kale wrote:
'Male = predator = carnivorous. No?'
Male =/= wolf?"

Well, not the males I know....

So, maybe...C:/Run Male C:/ABORT...VIRUS ALERT!