We watched Star Trek: Nemesis over the weekend. Squire told Friar that
it was about "how we define our humanity under different circumstances"
and I thought: well, yeah. And this is, I think, one of the appeals of
fantasy. It's not just looking at a different world: it's also that
it's interesting to look at what's true about ourselves against a
variety of backgrounds.
The Chronicles of Prydain are my favorite fantasy books. They
may be my favorite children's books, hands down (although Bridge to
Terabithia now looks at me with its lovely painful face and I am not
sure, but.... ) Okay, definitely my favorite series. I've re-read them
every year since fifth grade, which is a lot of times to read the same
books. I learned about writing from those books; I learned about the
subtle beauty of "not without regret". And I learned about the
difficult choices, and about both sides of trust, and about saying what
you're afraid to say because not saying it is worse.
The only thing I didn't like about those books was the ending.
It seemed unbearably unfair to my childish hedonist heart that the
choice would come down to happy oblivion or emotionally wrenching
reality. Later I concluded that the happy oblivion was a metaphor for
death (see also: C.S. Lewis; Tolkein), and I was irritated that this
was presented as happiness. I mean: really irritated. Because in fact I
think the choice is: emotionally wrenching and rewarding reality or...
nothing. Do you want to go through life standing in the dank armpit of
the tram and watching the light catch the snowflakes as they fall and
listening to your child laughing or do you want... nothing?
And I felt like Alexander skipped the real choice, which is
interesting, in exchange for a fantasy set up: You get the kingdom of
happy ever after or you get the kingdom of right here right now. The
first one is unreal, is blissful oblivion, is heaven, is death. And the
second one is...hard. According to Alexander, a hero chooses the
second; death comes to a hero only incidentally, only later. I'm not
crazy about that, but at least I get it. Certainly I prefer it to the
choice of deciding whether you believe you
can go further up and further in whilst in a room too small to swing a
dwarf, because it seems like a fairer choice. Though I don't like the
choice as it is presented, at least it is a choice, and the point is
clear: If we are heroes, we choose what is right, and what is right is
difficult. It's like Fantasy Novels for a Young Poet or something.
Second favorite fantasy series: The Dark Is Rising. It's a
child swept into a parallel world; it's time travel; it's Arthurian
legend; it's beautiful You Are There writing (first time I saw the
Thames, I was like: yeah); it's trust and honor and all the things I
want a book to do. It's also Destiny, which I have problems with. You
should have seen me try to have a reasonable discussion of "Sinners in the Hands of
an Angry God" because it induced the same sputtery anger that hits me any
time I see destiny, no matter how pretty the packaging: That's not
fair.
I don't mean fair like "she gets more candy than I do"
because while that is not fair, it is certainly true. Some animals are
more equal than others: some people will get more advantages than they
deserve and they will get away with murder and they will be rewarded
rather than punished. This is true, and I don't expect fantasy books,
no matter how fantastic, to present me with something truer than
reality can muster: I do not expect the fairness of equality. But the
unfairness that I cannot handle is the unfairness conveyed by Destiny,
by Fate.
So I was pretty excited to read Philip Pullman's books,
because I thought he would have no truck with Because God Said So,
whether we called it God or The Oracle or The Light or Dumbledore. I
thought: Yay! A new children's series with free will! Characters doing
what they think is right without regard for messages from higher
beings. Characters stumbling in their steampunk darkness, so like our
own; characters making their own choices. And then on top of that,
Pullman can write his way around a sentence and through a book like nobody's business. I even thought in my naivety that perhaps the characters would not get the kingdom of hard work vs. kingdom of happy oblivion choice at the end, and wouldn't that be nice!
HAHAHA. I should have known already in the Golden Compass,
when the alethiometer gave me pause, but Lyra seemed so self-determined
and Will even more so: "I may be inclined to be this sort of person but
it doesn't mean I have to choose it." And so we bopped on through three
books of me thinking my lofty thoughts about fairness and free will and real choices. Boy, was I pretty pissed when I finished Amber Spyglass. Philip Pullman
so didn't "kill god". He pulled deux ex machina like a rabbit out of a
hat. Fate? We pretend it doesn't exist only because it's too depressing
to contend with. Destiny is reality, and the only reason the human
characters won't be told their destinies is so that they continue
existing under the apparently illusory free will they hold so dear
(even though they don't have it really have it, since Destiny trumps
Free Will). And so to be heroic is to acknowledge the existence and
even inevitability of your fate without even asking what it is. This
is... not free will. Oh, and yeah, and the final choice (which isn't a choice)? You have to give up what you want
most because an angel said so. OH, ferfle.
We're totally going to see the movie still, but I am disappointed. I'm getting my Alexander books encased in gold, I guess. And
I will continue living in the Star Trek world with Squire Tuck, unless
somebody can recommend some fantasy books where the world is fantasy
and the moral approaches something I can live with, something at least
as true as reality.
SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG.