me getting slighly pompous
So, recently I’ve been reading Mervyn Peake’s “Titus Groan,” the first of his Gormenghast, and it’s simply phenomenal. About half way in there is still no real sense of narrative structure but everything else is simply wonderful and the book pulls you along with the power of its wonderful eruption of prose, wit, and erudition. Never before have I been confronted with so many wonderful visions presented with such lucidity and clarity. His writing is incredible. And what’s more, for all it’s gothic trappings, it’s written with a sense of humour.
Read it, read it now.
However, I didn’t really want to talk about how great Mervyn Peake is, but rather about one of the quotes on the back, which comes courtesy of Mr C. S. Lewis. And it is this:
“[Peake’s books] are actual additions to life; they give, like certain rare dreams, sensations we never had before, and enlarge our conception of possible experience.”
Now, obviously there is the usual sense of book-blurb-hyperbole here, but I think the quote really strikes at the heart of what I believe fantastic fiction should be. By throwing of the trappings of the quotidian, or at least by throwing up a point of contrast against which the quotidian can be compared, fantasy doesn’t just transport the reader to other lands but transports there minds to new emotions, new perspectives, new attitudes.
It comes back to the whole escapism/engaging in the world thing.
Speculative fiction has the ability to batter the reader with more weird, crazed shit than any other genre can. It can throw up more contrast to the everyday than any other genre. And unless we are limited by the perceived limits of the genre, then its limits are those of the writer’s imagination.
If fantasy engages with the world, rather than simply offering a route out of it, it can broaden a readers mind more than any other type of fiction out there.
And it’s legal too, kids.
This is not simply a platitude though, this is a call for action. If anyone who writes speculative fiction reads this, don’t just pat yourself on the back and say “Whoop-dee-doo now I can feel good about what I write,” go away with the knowledge of the power of what you can do with your fiction and let that fuel you. Work to confront your readers with scene-scapes they have never even conceived of the possibility of occurring before. Broaden their perspectives. Make them see things differently.
Because that’s the way to change the world. And if it didn’t need changing, why would be pursuing such an escapist pastime as reading fantasy?
14.3.07
8.3.07
a personal manifesto
For a long time I have been talking (not on this site, but out there in the real world) about what sort of fiction I don't want to write in very concrete tewrms, and what I do want to writew about in very abstract terms. I think its time to firm the latter up.
But first, a caveat: this manifesto is for me, not you.
I have my own vision for what I want speculative fiction to be, but the world would be a very boring place if everyone just wrote what I advocated, What's more it would soon stultify and die. The life blood of speculative fiction (and really almost every creative endeavor) has to be change--mutation and evolution. New ideas must come along and the existing ones must react to them, develop from them, be in a dialogue with them, until they themselves become something different and are the new idea. With that in mind, I intend to revist this document about once a year, not only to see where I have succeeded and failed in my goals, but also to updaye it with any additional thinking I may (and hope to) have had.
So, please, takie thias as it is intended: a purely personal manifesto.
1. Everything that is in my stories will be there for a reason
This is the golden rule. When someone asks me why I did something, why I made a particular choice, I shall have an answer/ Asking "why" should be a critical element of the editing process. The answer "because its cool" is not good enough. Everything should served either to build on the themes of the story, or to move the plot forwards.
2. My stories will attempt to leave the world a better place than they find it
As I have stated before, the least a story should be is entertaining. This is the minimum point of success. Stories should move beyond the point of entertainment and also engage in a discussion of the world in which they exist. This world is far from perfect, there are many flaws, problems, and areas of misunderstanding. Stories should engage with these issues, raise awkward questions, expose unfairness, and, where applicable, suggest solutions.
3. My stories will be entertaining
While I have stated that this is the minimum point of success, stories do have to be entertaining in order to succeed. Boring stories fail. Of course, what is entertaining vs. what is boring is an ambiguous area. What I, personally, mean here is that my stories should contain conflict, action and resolution (the latter may well be open-ended but it will offer some sense of completion to the story). I am less and less interested in 3-Act structure and the monomyth, but I recognize the need for rising and falling action, and that I enjoyt stroies that contain these elements. While I strive to experiment with structure, if the story loses a sense of forward motion, then it is likely a failure.
4. My stories shall be clearly written and not confuse the crap out of the reader
This is not to say that I will abandon narrative structure, sentence structure, or language, or that I will abandon the depth of ideas for the breadth of appeal, simply that I shall regard these experiments as failures should they render the story and the ideas unintelligible to anyone except me. Stories are a frm of communication and should thus communicate their theme(s) and plot(s) as clearly as possible.
5. I shall push the language of my stories to be as poetic as possible
That said I am not interested in writing prose poetry. As much as I admire her work, I am not Catherynne Valente. Still, I want my stories to sound good when read aloud, the language to be rich and vibrant and to add to the reading experience. I want the languaged used to add to the emotional tone and meaning of what is written. And I want to do all that without sacrificing clarity.
6. The structure of the stories I tell shall refelect the themes of the story
The monomyth is increasingly less significant in the modern age. I shall not blindly fall back on three-act structure. Instead, the shape of the narrative should be influenced by, and attempt to reflect, the themes of the story.
7. I shall attempt to offer more questions than answers
To be honest, this is likely to be the hardest for me. My desire to influence the reader can lead to preachy endings, and, as I don't like reading that sort of thing, I don't see why I should inflict them on others. Instead of forcing my own opinions onto others I shall strive to simply get people thinking about issues, so that they can, at least, make up there own minds rather than simply accepting received wisdom.
8. When I create secondary worlds (and I shall) they shall exist as reflections of this world
Secondary worlds should not exist as places to which the reader can retreat to and escape from the real world. As previously stated, stories should deal with real world concerns. As an extension of this thought, and secondary world should reflect/mirror/be a metaphor for this world. It should be a tool with which to examine this world. The reflection, of course, will be imperfect. Certain aspects of this world will be distorted or warped to further develop the themes of the story. Otherwise why bother with a reflection?
9. I shall explore the use and updaying of mythic archetypes
While I am movinbg away from the monomyth as an archetype for stories, I am still interested in exploring mythic archetypes and seeing how they can lend power and width of appeal to a story. At the same time, they should should not be used purely for width of appeal, but should be explored for what they once signified and what they now signify, in order to add to stories depth of meaning.
10. I shall include stuff I think is cool
Steam powered suits of battle armour, cyborg monkey samurai, the word "behemoth"--hell yes. But at the same time, being cool will not be sufficient reason to include something in a story (see Rule 1). Still, whenever I can justify it, I will get my geek on.
11. My work shall not emulate or be derivative of Tolkein's work
I have no problem with TOlkein. I love his stuff and geeked out thoroughly to the Silmarillion. Yes, you heard me, the Silmarillion. What I take issue with is his cloying, clogging, stultifying legacy. I see no need to retread the ground which he so thoroughly covered. I will never write about anything with pointy frickin' ears.
For a long time I have been talking (not on this site, but out there in the real world) about what sort of fiction I don't want to write in very concrete tewrms, and what I do want to writew about in very abstract terms. I think its time to firm the latter up.
But first, a caveat: this manifesto is for me, not you.
I have my own vision for what I want speculative fiction to be, but the world would be a very boring place if everyone just wrote what I advocated, What's more it would soon stultify and die. The life blood of speculative fiction (and really almost every creative endeavor) has to be change--mutation and evolution. New ideas must come along and the existing ones must react to them, develop from them, be in a dialogue with them, until they themselves become something different and are the new idea. With that in mind, I intend to revist this document about once a year, not only to see where I have succeeded and failed in my goals, but also to updaye it with any additional thinking I may (and hope to) have had.
So, please, takie thias as it is intended: a purely personal manifesto.
1. Everything that is in my stories will be there for a reason
This is the golden rule. When someone asks me why I did something, why I made a particular choice, I shall have an answer/ Asking "why" should be a critical element of the editing process. The answer "because its cool" is not good enough. Everything should served either to build on the themes of the story, or to move the plot forwards.
2. My stories will attempt to leave the world a better place than they find it
As I have stated before, the least a story should be is entertaining. This is the minimum point of success. Stories should move beyond the point of entertainment and also engage in a discussion of the world in which they exist. This world is far from perfect, there are many flaws, problems, and areas of misunderstanding. Stories should engage with these issues, raise awkward questions, expose unfairness, and, where applicable, suggest solutions.
3. My stories will be entertaining
While I have stated that this is the minimum point of success, stories do have to be entertaining in order to succeed. Boring stories fail. Of course, what is entertaining vs. what is boring is an ambiguous area. What I, personally, mean here is that my stories should contain conflict, action and resolution (the latter may well be open-ended but it will offer some sense of completion to the story). I am less and less interested in 3-Act structure and the monomyth, but I recognize the need for rising and falling action, and that I enjoyt stroies that contain these elements. While I strive to experiment with structure, if the story loses a sense of forward motion, then it is likely a failure.
4. My stories shall be clearly written and not confuse the crap out of the reader
This is not to say that I will abandon narrative structure, sentence structure, or language, or that I will abandon the depth of ideas for the breadth of appeal, simply that I shall regard these experiments as failures should they render the story and the ideas unintelligible to anyone except me. Stories are a frm of communication and should thus communicate their theme(s) and plot(s) as clearly as possible.
5. I shall push the language of my stories to be as poetic as possible
That said I am not interested in writing prose poetry. As much as I admire her work, I am not Catherynne Valente. Still, I want my stories to sound good when read aloud, the language to be rich and vibrant and to add to the reading experience. I want the languaged used to add to the emotional tone and meaning of what is written. And I want to do all that without sacrificing clarity.
6. The structure of the stories I tell shall refelect the themes of the story
The monomyth is increasingly less significant in the modern age. I shall not blindly fall back on three-act structure. Instead, the shape of the narrative should be influenced by, and attempt to reflect, the themes of the story.
7. I shall attempt to offer more questions than answers
To be honest, this is likely to be the hardest for me. My desire to influence the reader can lead to preachy endings, and, as I don't like reading that sort of thing, I don't see why I should inflict them on others. Instead of forcing my own opinions onto others I shall strive to simply get people thinking about issues, so that they can, at least, make up there own minds rather than simply accepting received wisdom.
8. When I create secondary worlds (and I shall) they shall exist as reflections of this world
Secondary worlds should not exist as places to which the reader can retreat to and escape from the real world. As previously stated, stories should deal with real world concerns. As an extension of this thought, and secondary world should reflect/mirror/be a metaphor for this world. It should be a tool with which to examine this world. The reflection, of course, will be imperfect. Certain aspects of this world will be distorted or warped to further develop the themes of the story. Otherwise why bother with a reflection?
9. I shall explore the use and updaying of mythic archetypes
While I am movinbg away from the monomyth as an archetype for stories, I am still interested in exploring mythic archetypes and seeing how they can lend power and width of appeal to a story. At the same time, they should should not be used purely for width of appeal, but should be explored for what they once signified and what they now signify, in order to add to stories depth of meaning.
10. I shall include stuff I think is cool
Steam powered suits of battle armour, cyborg monkey samurai, the word "behemoth"--hell yes. But at the same time, being cool will not be sufficient reason to include something in a story (see Rule 1). Still, whenever I can justify it, I will get my geek on.
11. My work shall not emulate or be derivative of Tolkein's work
I have no problem with TOlkein. I love his stuff and geeked out thoroughly to the Silmarillion. Yes, you heard me, the Silmarillion. What I take issue with is his cloying, clogging, stultifying legacy. I see no need to retread the ground which he so thoroughly covered. I will never write about anything with pointy frickin' ears.
7.2.07
worlddestroying
So there’s been a lot of chatter in blogland about Mike Harrison’s post on worldbuilding (http://uzwi.wordpress.com/2007/01/27/very-afraid/) and the response made by some bloke called Pat (http://fantasyhotlist.blogspot.com/2007/02/be-afraid-be-very-afraid.html).
It’ll probably help if you read them for this to make any sense, but on the other hand, I don’t think anyone reads this so…
First, Mr. Harrison. He states that “Every moment of a science fiction story must represent the triumph of writing over worldbuilding.” I think that what he’s talking about is an author’s insertion of detail about the story’s setting that is present purely for the sake of showing that an author has exhaustively built a world, not for the purpose of moving the story forward.I don’t see what is so controversial here. He’s arguing for good storytelling. Every part of a story should be there for a reason, that relates to the story, to the sequence of events described and the effect of those events upon the character(s). Wallowing in overblown descriptions of the rain cycle on this planet (unless it specifically relates to the two aforementioned subjects) is bad writing. Mike Harrison is arguing against extraneous fluff that should have been edited from a story anyway.
Wow – radical thinking.
And that’s the real tragedy here, that some people are taking this as radical thinking. Fantasy has become so trapped in it’s own formulae that the quality of writing is unimportant – it’s whether or not a story strictly conforms to these dictums that is important.
The more formulaic a book is, the better it is? That doesn’t sound right.
This brings us to this bloke called, Pat.
Pat disagrees with Mike Harrison’s post. Pat seems to think Mike Harrison’s post has something to do with the importance of prose over any other aspect of writing. This would only seem possible if you read “…the triumph of writing over worldbuilding” as “the triumph of prose over worldbuilding.” Maybe that’s what he’s done. But all this misunderstanding leads to this paragraph…
“If Harrison can only fall back on his prose to compete against writers who can create deep and believable characters, a vivid setting and a gripping and multilayered plot, doing it all with nice prose to boot, then he can never hope to produce works that will surpass those of his peers. Which, sadly, appears to be the case here. Hence Mr. Harrison's post.”
Just so we’re clear here, the peers Pat is referring include Stephen R. Donaldson, David Eddings, Raymond E. Feist, Terry Brooks, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman, Robert Jordan, and Terry Goodkind.
I should probably refrain from the use of adjectives at this point…
Anyway, back to the quote. This quote comes from another strand of Pat’s argument, which is “a vast majority of speculative fiction's readership is drawn to the genre for escapism”
As, I posted earlier, all novels are escapist. I want to expand this statement to include all forms of entertainment. Movies are escapist. So is music. Anything we use to take us out of the moment in which we are existing is escapist.
However, as I also stated, these forms of entertainment can achieve more than pure escapism. Again, I want to take this further. Entertainment should do more than simply entertain. Entertainment/escapism is the minimum level of success a story can achieve. If that’s all it achieves it is, in the end, disposable. I certainly consume disposable forms of entertainment, but I am equally certain that I don’t want to produce them, and I sure as shit don’t want to laud them over more powerful works.
I wouldn’t laud the books of Robert Jordan over those by Mike Harrison, for example.
Pat boosts his argument by calling Mike Harrison a number of names: elitist, literati, and mid-list. He also boosts it by pointing at sales figures.
Mike Harrison is elitist. He is. I don’t disagree with that point. I disagree with it being used as an insult. What’s wrong with being elitist, for desiring something a little more than the quotidian? What’s wrong with encouraging author’s to stretch themselves, to reach for something a little more significant? The man’s offering sound advice on how to do that to. That, to me, seems laudable.
There should be more elitists.
The other three points--literati, mid-list, and sales figures—seem to all be related. This is because Pat is judging Mike Harrison’s worth based on his sales figures. Mid-list and sales figures, seem to me, to be the same thing. And in terms of sales figures I’m sure Mike Harrison is mid-list. But in terms of quality of writing, and the quality of ideas, then I think the listing goes a little different. And that’s because, yes, he is trying to write literature of quality. And what’s wrong with that? Literature is, hmmm… writing of quality, again? Writing which does not rely purely on plot, but which goes beyond this one aspect of writing, which Pat seems to hang so much upon.
It also seems a little odd for someone who’s literary achievements are limited to a blog to call Mike Harrison mid-list…
It’s not that Mike Harrison is my favourite author, although I admire him. This defense of him is not inspired by sycophantism, but rather by the desire that people realize that his post offer sound advice. That it is a call for better fiction, less self-indulgent fiction. That it’s important, and petty pot-shots at his writing, are not a reasonable response to valuable advice.
So there’s been a lot of chatter in blogland about Mike Harrison’s post on worldbuilding (http://uzwi.wordpress.com/2007/01/27/very-afraid/) and the response made by some bloke called Pat (http://fantasyhotlist.blogspot.com/2007/02/be-afraid-be-very-afraid.html).
It’ll probably help if you read them for this to make any sense, but on the other hand, I don’t think anyone reads this so…
First, Mr. Harrison. He states that “Every moment of a science fiction story must represent the triumph of writing over worldbuilding.” I think that what he’s talking about is an author’s insertion of detail about the story’s setting that is present purely for the sake of showing that an author has exhaustively built a world, not for the purpose of moving the story forward.I don’t see what is so controversial here. He’s arguing for good storytelling. Every part of a story should be there for a reason, that relates to the story, to the sequence of events described and the effect of those events upon the character(s). Wallowing in overblown descriptions of the rain cycle on this planet (unless it specifically relates to the two aforementioned subjects) is bad writing. Mike Harrison is arguing against extraneous fluff that should have been edited from a story anyway.
Wow – radical thinking.
And that’s the real tragedy here, that some people are taking this as radical thinking. Fantasy has become so trapped in it’s own formulae that the quality of writing is unimportant – it’s whether or not a story strictly conforms to these dictums that is important.
The more formulaic a book is, the better it is? That doesn’t sound right.
This brings us to this bloke called, Pat.
Pat disagrees with Mike Harrison’s post. Pat seems to think Mike Harrison’s post has something to do with the importance of prose over any other aspect of writing. This would only seem possible if you read “…the triumph of writing over worldbuilding” as “the triumph of prose over worldbuilding.” Maybe that’s what he’s done. But all this misunderstanding leads to this paragraph…
“If Harrison can only fall back on his prose to compete against writers who can create deep and believable characters, a vivid setting and a gripping and multilayered plot, doing it all with nice prose to boot, then he can never hope to produce works that will surpass those of his peers. Which, sadly, appears to be the case here. Hence Mr. Harrison's post.”
Just so we’re clear here, the peers Pat is referring include Stephen R. Donaldson, David Eddings, Raymond E. Feist, Terry Brooks, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman, Robert Jordan, and Terry Goodkind.
I should probably refrain from the use of adjectives at this point…
Anyway, back to the quote. This quote comes from another strand of Pat’s argument, which is “a vast majority of speculative fiction's readership is drawn to the genre for escapism”
As, I posted earlier, all novels are escapist. I want to expand this statement to include all forms of entertainment. Movies are escapist. So is music. Anything we use to take us out of the moment in which we are existing is escapist.
However, as I also stated, these forms of entertainment can achieve more than pure escapism. Again, I want to take this further. Entertainment should do more than simply entertain. Entertainment/escapism is the minimum level of success a story can achieve. If that’s all it achieves it is, in the end, disposable. I certainly consume disposable forms of entertainment, but I am equally certain that I don’t want to produce them, and I sure as shit don’t want to laud them over more powerful works.
I wouldn’t laud the books of Robert Jordan over those by Mike Harrison, for example.
Pat boosts his argument by calling Mike Harrison a number of names: elitist, literati, and mid-list. He also boosts it by pointing at sales figures.
Mike Harrison is elitist. He is. I don’t disagree with that point. I disagree with it being used as an insult. What’s wrong with being elitist, for desiring something a little more than the quotidian? What’s wrong with encouraging author’s to stretch themselves, to reach for something a little more significant? The man’s offering sound advice on how to do that to. That, to me, seems laudable.
There should be more elitists.
The other three points--literati, mid-list, and sales figures—seem to all be related. This is because Pat is judging Mike Harrison’s worth based on his sales figures. Mid-list and sales figures, seem to me, to be the same thing. And in terms of sales figures I’m sure Mike Harrison is mid-list. But in terms of quality of writing, and the quality of ideas, then I think the listing goes a little different. And that’s because, yes, he is trying to write literature of quality. And what’s wrong with that? Literature is, hmmm… writing of quality, again? Writing which does not rely purely on plot, but which goes beyond this one aspect of writing, which Pat seems to hang so much upon.
It also seems a little odd for someone who’s literary achievements are limited to a blog to call Mike Harrison mid-list…
It’s not that Mike Harrison is my favourite author, although I admire him. This defense of him is not inspired by sycophantism, but rather by the desire that people realize that his post offer sound advice. That it is a call for better fiction, less self-indulgent fiction. That it’s important, and petty pot-shots at his writing, are not a reasonable response to valuable advice.
23.1.07
pick 'n' mix
This isn't really my idea. The phrase is stolen from M. John Harrison, but it's been buzzing in my head for a day or two, after Gabe Chouinard made this post.
Imagine literature as a candy store. In the candy store are a series of pick 'n' mix stands. Each stand represents a genre and is appropriately labelled. There's the Mystery stand, next to it is the Romance stand, there's Fantasy, etc, etc.
Now, at each stand is a wide variety of candy. Each candy represents a particular convention of the genre. So at the fantasy stand, there's candy representing elves, dragons, simple-minded farmboys, big swords, and possibly maybe even some candy you might want to eat.
It's the same at the Mystery stand. There's a big tray of belgium super-sleuthes, ex-cons turned PIs, and so and so forth.
Now, here's the big secret: you can take your candy from any stand in the store. You can if you want, it's up to you. But you shouldn't feel constrained.
Because that's what genres have a tendecy to become: constraints. They shackle the writer. And the worst thing is: people don't even see it. They include magic in their fantasy novels because... well, because it's fantasy. Genre conventions are included mindlessly, because that's the genre. But fantasy doesn't need magic - just read the Viriconium stories. I'm not saying it shouldn't be included, but when it is, it should be for a good reason. (A great example of this is K. J. Bishop's master The Etched City).
Genre conventions are the starting point, the launchpad. They should inspire creativity. The Dogme movement in cinema is a wonderful example. In literature, the OuLiPo model is also exciting, though it frequently limits itself to simple word games. Limits should inspire the writer to find new ways to work around them, to express what he/she is trying to express in new and exciting ways. Instead they become... well... conventions.
I think the strength of the pick 'n' mix model is that it emphasizes the arbitrariness of the ruleset. And, by exposing that arbitrary nature, it encourages the writer to move beyond it. Instead take the candy you like from any stand in the store. Create your own... well not entire genre, but sub-genre. Just like Paul Jessup did with Post-Industrial Fantasy. Here he manages to create something that's close to what genre should be: a do-it-yourself, pick-n-mix, home-brewed creation that inspire rather than constrains. You may not like Post-Industrial Fantasy, it may contain no elements you like, but that should simply prompt to create your own sub-genre. Hell, create ten, and only ever write one story for each sub-genre. But take control of genre.
Don't be genre's bitch.
This isn't really my idea. The phrase is stolen from M. John Harrison, but it's been buzzing in my head for a day or two, after Gabe Chouinard made this post.
Imagine literature as a candy store. In the candy store are a series of pick 'n' mix stands. Each stand represents a genre and is appropriately labelled. There's the Mystery stand, next to it is the Romance stand, there's Fantasy, etc, etc.
Now, at each stand is a wide variety of candy. Each candy represents a particular convention of the genre. So at the fantasy stand, there's candy representing elves, dragons, simple-minded farmboys, big swords, and possibly maybe even some candy you might want to eat.
It's the same at the Mystery stand. There's a big tray of belgium super-sleuthes, ex-cons turned PIs, and so and so forth.
Now, here's the big secret: you can take your candy from any stand in the store. You can if you want, it's up to you. But you shouldn't feel constrained.
Because that's what genres have a tendecy to become: constraints. They shackle the writer. And the worst thing is: people don't even see it. They include magic in their fantasy novels because... well, because it's fantasy. Genre conventions are included mindlessly, because that's the genre. But fantasy doesn't need magic - just read the Viriconium stories. I'm not saying it shouldn't be included, but when it is, it should be for a good reason. (A great example of this is K. J. Bishop's master The Etched City).
Genre conventions are the starting point, the launchpad. They should inspire creativity. The Dogme movement in cinema is a wonderful example. In literature, the OuLiPo model is also exciting, though it frequently limits itself to simple word games. Limits should inspire the writer to find new ways to work around them, to express what he/she is trying to express in new and exciting ways. Instead they become... well... conventions.
I think the strength of the pick 'n' mix model is that it emphasizes the arbitrariness of the ruleset. And, by exposing that arbitrary nature, it encourages the writer to move beyond it. Instead take the candy you like from any stand in the store. Create your own... well not entire genre, but sub-genre. Just like Paul Jessup did with Post-Industrial Fantasy. Here he manages to create something that's close to what genre should be: a do-it-yourself, pick-n-mix, home-brewed creation that inspire rather than constrains. You may not like Post-Industrial Fantasy, it may contain no elements you like, but that should simply prompt to create your own sub-genre. Hell, create ten, and only ever write one story for each sub-genre. But take control of genre.
Don't be genre's bitch.
12.1.07
arts and crafts
So the other day I came across this: Which science fiction writer are you?
Which is awesome in itself but one of it’s questions got me to thinking. It was: “Do you consider what you do to be art?” And I thought, “Hell yeah.” But then the potential answers were making a distinction between the art of writing and the craft of writing, and I wasn’t sure. So I took a peek in the dictionary.
Art:
1 : skill acquired by experience, study, or observation
2 a : a branch of learning: (1) : one of the humanities (2) plural : LIBERAL ARTS b archaic : LEARNING, SCHOLARSHIP
3 : an occupation requiring knowledge or skill
4 a : the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects; also : works so produced b (1) : FINE ARTS (2) : one of the fine arts (3) : a graphic art
5 a archaic : a skillful plan b : the quality or state of being artful
6 : decorative or illustrative elements in printed matter
Craft:
1 : skill in planning, making, or executing : DEXTERITY
2 a : an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skillb plural : articles made by craftspeople
3 : skill in deceiving to gain an end
4 : the members of a trade or trade association
5 plural usually craft a : a boat especially of small size b : AIRCRAFT c : SPACECRAFT
What’s more: one of the synonyms given for ‘art’ was ‘craft,’ and the only synonym listed for ‘craft’ was ‘art’
So, the argument for writing as art as based purely on Merriam-webster definitions (this is sounding like a worse and worse idea the more I type):
The most relevant descriptions here are:
1 : skill acquired by experience, study, or observation
3 : an occupation requiring knowledge or skill
4 a : the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects;
Writing, at least good writing, certainly requires experience, study and observation. I do not subscribe to the idea that some people can write, and some people can’t. Anyone, can do pretty much anything if they put enough time and effort in. (The problem is, what is enough?). Definition 3 is pretty much saying the same thing, except it defines it as an occupation. There are people out there lucky enough to make enough money for writing to be an occupation, but they are few and far between.
I really like definition 4. That seems to come very close to what I think of as writing except for the final two words: “aesthetic objects.” This is pretty obviously Merriam-webster’s attempt to be a catch-all for what we all mean when we say the “arts” but it strikes me as a loaded phrase, and I’m going to credit the dictionary’s writers with the intelligence to have known that because they seem like very smart people to me. Aesthetic, to me, implies beauty but also a sort of uselessness. Aesthetic objects don’t seem very functional to me. They are there to be looked at and wondered over, but little else. And I don’t want my writing to just be that. I want it to have a function: to make people think about the world they live in.
So let’s turn to crafts:
Here I like:
2 a : an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill
3 : skill in deceiving to gain an end
Especially number 3, as that ties into my whole “fiction is lying” thing that I’m on at the moment. That aside, the emphasis here seems much more on producing a functional object. Maybe, in tone, it looks down on the role of the artist a bit more, but like I said above I like the idea that what I’m producing is functional. But at the same time, I do want my work go beyond that as well, to have at least some aesthetic qualities
So here goes the whole awkward tie-in to yesterday’s ideas about escapism…
It strikes me that aestheticism is tied to escapism, while functionality is tied to the idea of social commentary. Like I said yesterday, writing cannot escape being either, it’s a question of emphasis. So the writer is both artist and artisan. How much he is of one or the other is up to him or her.
Personally, like usual, I’m going to try to aim somewhere in the middle.
So the other day I came across this: Which science fiction writer are you?
Which is awesome in itself but one of it’s questions got me to thinking. It was: “Do you consider what you do to be art?” And I thought, “Hell yeah.” But then the potential answers were making a distinction between the art of writing and the craft of writing, and I wasn’t sure. So I took a peek in the dictionary.
Art:
1 : skill acquired by experience, study, or observation
2 a : a branch of learning: (1) : one of the humanities (2) plural :
3 : an occupation requiring knowledge or skill
4 a : the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects; also : works so produced b (1) :
5 a archaic : a skillful plan b : the quality or state of being artful
6 : decorative or illustrative elements in printed matter
Craft:
1 : skill in planning, making, or executing : DEXTERITY
2 a : an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill
3 : skill in deceiving to gain an end
4 : the members of a trade or trade association
5 plural usually craft a : a boat especially of small size b :
What’s more: one of the synonyms given for ‘art’ was ‘craft,’ and the only synonym listed for ‘craft’ was ‘art’
So, the argument for writing as art as based purely on Merriam-webster definitions (this is sounding like a worse and worse idea the more I type):
The most relevant descriptions here are:
1 : skill acquired by experience, study, or observation
3 : an occupation requiring knowledge or skill
4 a : the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects;
Writing, at least good writing, certainly requires experience, study and observation. I do not subscribe to the idea that some people can write, and some people can’t. Anyone, can do pretty much anything if they put enough time and effort in. (The problem is, what is enough?). Definition 3 is pretty much saying the same thing, except it defines it as an occupation. There are people out there lucky enough to make enough money for writing to be an occupation, but they are few and far between.
I really like definition 4. That seems to come very close to what I think of as writing except for the final two words: “aesthetic objects.” This is pretty obviously Merriam-webster’s attempt to be a catch-all for what we all mean when we say the “arts” but it strikes me as a loaded phrase, and I’m going to credit the dictionary’s writers with the intelligence to have known that because they seem like very smart people to me. Aesthetic, to me, implies beauty but also a sort of uselessness. Aesthetic objects don’t seem very functional to me. They are there to be looked at and wondered over, but little else. And I don’t want my writing to just be that. I want it to have a function: to make people think about the world they live in.
So let’s turn to crafts:
Here I like:
2 a : an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill
3 : skill in deceiving to gain an end
Especially number 3, as that ties into my whole “fiction is lying” thing that I’m on at the moment. That aside, the emphasis here seems much more on producing a functional object. Maybe, in tone, it looks down on the role of the artist a bit more, but like I said above I like the idea that what I’m producing is functional. But at the same time, I do want my work go beyond that as well, to have at least some aesthetic qualities
So here goes the whole awkward tie-in to yesterday’s ideas about escapism…
It strikes me that aestheticism is tied to escapism, while functionality is tied to the idea of social commentary. Like I said yesterday, writing cannot escape being either, it’s a question of emphasis. So the writer is both artist and artisan. How much he is of one or the other is up to him or her.
Personally, like usual, I’m going to try to aim somewhere in the middle.
11.1.07
the escape plan
I love fantasy fiction. That much should be clear. And whenever this subject comes up with my parents, sooner or later one of my parents will mention that it's "not about real people."
No fiction is about real people. Not even historical fiction. It uses their names, and maybe even events from their lives, but it's still fiction. Every piece of fiction, in every genre, and even "literature" that has transcended genre by the acclimation of academicians, is a lie. Hopefully, a carefully constructed, entertaining lie, but a lie all the same.
Non-speculative fiction, or "realistic" fiction, has pulled off a fantastic con job. It has convinced people (or at the very least my parents) that because it looks real, and it sounds real, and it even feels real, that it is real. But it's not. And it's certainly not about real people.
What I'm angling towards here is the subject of escapism. Another complaint often made about speculative fiction is that it's escapist, that by not writing about the real world, then we're escaping it. This is part of the con job pulled by "realistic" fiction.
"It's set in the real world, how can it be escaping it!" cries the shamelessly stereotyped adversary I just invented. Well, foolish fictional being, it can be escapist if it has nothing to do with the lives that we live. Just because it's set in the real world doesn't mean that it's necessarily engaged in meaningful cultural and/or political debate. It can be about the real world without making any meaningful comment about it.
(I use the word 'meaningful' here because, in the end, everything is culturally and politically influenced, and makes some comment about society, but it can do it to a greater or lesser extent and I am talking about the books that do it to the lesser extent).
The Da Vinci Code I am looking, vindictively, at you.
I would argue that escapism has nothing to with whether a book is mired in genre, or if it genre-less. Rather, it is to do with the author's intent.
Now, I also realize that to many the author is dead, and that in no way is a bad thing. We each have to make of a text what we can, and we're going to do it whether an author wants us to or not. All an author can do is try to direct a reader's thinking in one particular direction or another. And some author's do that more and some author's do it less, regardless of whether their fiction is set in a realistic world or not. (I've dropped the quotes, I think I've made my point).
However (and I do love to use that word), as I stated above, all fiction is a lie. And because of that all fiction is to a certain extent escapist. And while realistic fiction may have pulled a con job, a lot of speculative fiction has been written that's escapist in the extreme. And you know why? Because people want escapism. I know I do. That's why we buy fiction rather than non-fiction. (Yes, I know we buy both...)
The trick, I think, is in the mix. If it's fiction, its escapist. Don't worry about it, just go with it. But don't let that be the be all and end all. If we are to dedicate a good portion of our time to writing fiction, it seems that the only responsible thing to do is to use that medium to comment, at least somewhat, on the world around us, to be politically and culturally involved. To try to make a difference that lasts beyond the back cover.
And speculative fiction is in a position to do this better than most realistic fiction.
No, I'm serious. Because it is detached from the specifics of the quotidian, speculative fiction can look at the big picture in a way that realistic fiction can't. It can invert problems, turn them around, make us look at them in new ways. It's loose, and fast, and can ask the "what if?" questions that expand the horizons of our thinking. Realistic fiction can't do that.
With speculative fiction we can have our cake and eat it. And it's better cake than that served up by realistic fiction too. It may take a while to get used to the taste, but once you do, you'll love it.
I love fantasy fiction. That much should be clear. And whenever this subject comes up with my parents, sooner or later one of my parents will mention that it's "not about real people."
No fiction is about real people. Not even historical fiction. It uses their names, and maybe even events from their lives, but it's still fiction. Every piece of fiction, in every genre, and even "literature" that has transcended genre by the acclimation of academicians, is a lie. Hopefully, a carefully constructed, entertaining lie, but a lie all the same.
Non-speculative fiction, or "realistic" fiction, has pulled off a fantastic con job. It has convinced people (or at the very least my parents) that because it looks real, and it sounds real, and it even feels real, that it is real. But it's not. And it's certainly not about real people.
What I'm angling towards here is the subject of escapism. Another complaint often made about speculative fiction is that it's escapist, that by not writing about the real world, then we're escaping it. This is part of the con job pulled by "realistic" fiction.
"It's set in the real world, how can it be escaping it!" cries the shamelessly stereotyped adversary I just invented. Well, foolish fictional being, it can be escapist if it has nothing to do with the lives that we live. Just because it's set in the real world doesn't mean that it's necessarily engaged in meaningful cultural and/or political debate. It can be about the real world without making any meaningful comment about it.
(I use the word 'meaningful' here because, in the end, everything is culturally and politically influenced, and makes some comment about society, but it can do it to a greater or lesser extent and I am talking about the books that do it to the lesser extent).
The Da Vinci Code I am looking, vindictively, at you.
I would argue that escapism has nothing to with whether a book is mired in genre, or if it genre-less. Rather, it is to do with the author's intent.
Now, I also realize that to many the author is dead, and that in no way is a bad thing. We each have to make of a text what we can, and we're going to do it whether an author wants us to or not. All an author can do is try to direct a reader's thinking in one particular direction or another. And some author's do that more and some author's do it less, regardless of whether their fiction is set in a realistic world or not. (I've dropped the quotes, I think I've made my point).
However (and I do love to use that word), as I stated above, all fiction is a lie. And because of that all fiction is to a certain extent escapist. And while realistic fiction may have pulled a con job, a lot of speculative fiction has been written that's escapist in the extreme. And you know why? Because people want escapism. I know I do. That's why we buy fiction rather than non-fiction. (Yes, I know we buy both...)
The trick, I think, is in the mix. If it's fiction, its escapist. Don't worry about it, just go with it. But don't let that be the be all and end all. If we are to dedicate a good portion of our time to writing fiction, it seems that the only responsible thing to do is to use that medium to comment, at least somewhat, on the world around us, to be politically and culturally involved. To try to make a difference that lasts beyond the back cover.
And speculative fiction is in a position to do this better than most realistic fiction.
No, I'm serious. Because it is detached from the specifics of the quotidian, speculative fiction can look at the big picture in a way that realistic fiction can't. It can invert problems, turn them around, make us look at them in new ways. It's loose, and fast, and can ask the "what if?" questions that expand the horizons of our thinking. Realistic fiction can't do that.
With speculative fiction we can have our cake and eat it. And it's better cake than that served up by realistic fiction too. It may take a while to get used to the taste, but once you do, you'll love it.
13.11.06
the place of cool in weird fiction
I like weird shit; fiction that confuses the crap out of me, that sort of thing. Vandermeer, Bishop Cisco, etc. Bring it on, I'm lovin' it. Right now I'm working my way through one of the "Leviathan" anthologies (Leviant 4: Cities for those who care) and it is quite splendiferous in the quality of its fiction. Each time I dive between its pages I am transported to a place where... well quite honestly I don't know where it takes me, some acid trip through the looking glass, to someplace that's not quite anywhere else. The stories are deep, troubling, profound, and (quite often) just slightly beyond my grasp. It's fiction that makes me reach for meaning without the promise of there being any meaning to be found. It's one hell of a ride.
But, you know what, sometimes I just wish something would blow up.
Fantasy fiction is constantly striving to be taken seriously as a literary genre, and works such as those found in the Leviathan books are a fantastic step towards that goal, there seems to sometimes be a profound absence of cool. There is no populist crap here.
Is the elimination of such "populist crap" essential to weird fiction?
I suppose one of the problems is "what is cool?" Some people thing arrogant elvish bowmen are cool, and not tawdry, played-out sterotypes. Personally I dig things blowing up, gunfire, and fighting in general. If it could be used as a set-piece in an action movie then I'm likely to categorise it as cool. And as action movies are about as populist as you can get, then surely there are some things are broadly viewed as being cool. Such as things blowing up.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating explosions in every story, or even action scenes in every story, but their near sub-genre wide elimination strikes me as a little odd. Indeed, the main reason Mieville remains one of my favourite weird fiction writers is because of the sheer power of some of his action scenes. They're damn cool, they get my adrenaline pumping, and they sure as hell keep me turning the pages. And that's really the point, isn't it? To engage the reader, to get them involved.
I think, in the end, it's a question of balance. The problem with most action movies is the overwhelming nature of the cool scenes with no time for anything to balance them out. They become uncool because they overwhelm us. We become numb to them. But one (just one!) action scene in a piece of writing (it being literature or not) can really bring the piece to life. Too much = bad. Too little... well, you can certainly get away with it. But I think as much careful thought should be given to it's elimination as to its inclusion.
That's all...
I like weird shit; fiction that confuses the crap out of me, that sort of thing. Vandermeer, Bishop Cisco, etc. Bring it on, I'm lovin' it. Right now I'm working my way through one of the "Leviathan" anthologies (Leviant 4: Cities for those who care) and it is quite splendiferous in the quality of its fiction. Each time I dive between its pages I am transported to a place where... well quite honestly I don't know where it takes me, some acid trip through the looking glass, to someplace that's not quite anywhere else. The stories are deep, troubling, profound, and (quite often) just slightly beyond my grasp. It's fiction that makes me reach for meaning without the promise of there being any meaning to be found. It's one hell of a ride.
But, you know what, sometimes I just wish something would blow up.
Fantasy fiction is constantly striving to be taken seriously as a literary genre, and works such as those found in the Leviathan books are a fantastic step towards that goal, there seems to sometimes be a profound absence of cool. There is no populist crap here.
Is the elimination of such "populist crap" essential to weird fiction?
I suppose one of the problems is "what is cool?" Some people thing arrogant elvish bowmen are cool, and not tawdry, played-out sterotypes. Personally I dig things blowing up, gunfire, and fighting in general. If it could be used as a set-piece in an action movie then I'm likely to categorise it as cool. And as action movies are about as populist as you can get, then surely there are some things are broadly viewed as being cool. Such as things blowing up.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating explosions in every story, or even action scenes in every story, but their near sub-genre wide elimination strikes me as a little odd. Indeed, the main reason Mieville remains one of my favourite weird fiction writers is because of the sheer power of some of his action scenes. They're damn cool, they get my adrenaline pumping, and they sure as hell keep me turning the pages. And that's really the point, isn't it? To engage the reader, to get them involved.
I think, in the end, it's a question of balance. The problem with most action movies is the overwhelming nature of the cool scenes with no time for anything to balance them out. They become uncool because they overwhelm us. We become numb to them. But one (just one!) action scene in a piece of writing (it being literature or not) can really bring the piece to life. Too much = bad. Too little... well, you can certainly get away with it. But I think as much careful thought should be given to it's elimination as to its inclusion.
That's all...
30.10.06
moralizing, ambiguity and charles de lint
So I've been thinking about mythic structure. Two integral parts of this structure is that the hero learns a lesson (of course, this element is widespread in non-mythic stories), and that he/she brings back something (knowledge/an artifact) for the his/her society. These two elements ensure that most stories I write using this structure automatically have a slightly didactic quality to them. It certainly doesn't have to be the main element in the story but, overall, a lesson is learned by the protagonist. By extension, the story is teaching this lesson to the reader. And that's all fine and good. But...
What about when I don't have the answer?
Or when the answer is cloudy. What if its not an issue like racism, which has clearly defined moral boundaries. How does mythic structure deal with these topics? Do I have to make up an opinion I don't necessarily have?
One way round this is to have two storylines. Two characters could learn the opposite things and both come to similar fates, or they could both learn the same lesson and have totally opposite fates. Of course their fates are going to depend upon the type of society they enter so that would also play into the equation. In either example, it could easily be read as me making a moralistic statement about the two different societies. So, the two socieites have to be held equal. I worry that this would tend towards abitrariness.
And also, what if I want to have only one character?
Maybe here the ambiguity enters with the character's return to society - there is an ambiguous response to what the character has learned, and to what he's trying to teach. This would probably work better as it's the same society reacting to one lesson. But here the ambiguity is saved for the end. Still, it's a solution...
But it's not a solution inkeeping with what I see as the true intent of mythic work. The intent of mythic work does seem to be to provide some sort of solution, to provide a working answer for the issues in life. As soon as a story stops containing a message then it loses some of that mythic quality.
But is making a story mythic that important? The best I can do is this (long) quote from an interview with Charles de Lint:
Now, I've just started reading some of de Lint's stories and I find them beautiful. They're hopeful. Not in a trite or contrived way, but in a simple, true way. They connect with the reader. And I think the above quote helps show the importance of mythic structure in writing.
Essentially, I believe that mythic stories comfort people. But at the same time, I enjoy reading ambiguous stories and I believe we live in an ambiguous world. They can ring more true and can reflect the world that surrounds us more accurately.
Comfort is a very important thing. Finding shelter in this world can be hard, and providing it in the form of literature is something I want to do. But at the same time I want to avoid the escapist notion that fuels so much of the Tolkein-lite crap that floods the fantasy/science-fiction shelves at book stores. de Lint manages, mostly, to provide comfort without the escapism, but he has little ambiguity.
So, again I am back to my initial problem: how to introduce ambiguity to mythic stories without undermining the shelter that they provide for people. It can't come at the end - that is where redemption lies, and to steal that is to steal the hope from the stories, and it is the hope that I find so enchanting in de Lint's stories. It must come before. It has to come during the struggle. It must be in the hero, in his problem, and in the forces that oppose him, exactly where it is in our lives.
So I've been thinking about mythic structure. Two integral parts of this structure is that the hero learns a lesson (of course, this element is widespread in non-mythic stories), and that he/she brings back something (knowledge/an artifact) for the his/her society. These two elements ensure that most stories I write using this structure automatically have a slightly didactic quality to them. It certainly doesn't have to be the main element in the story but, overall, a lesson is learned by the protagonist. By extension, the story is teaching this lesson to the reader. And that's all fine and good. But...
What about when I don't have the answer?
Or when the answer is cloudy. What if its not an issue like racism, which has clearly defined moral boundaries. How does mythic structure deal with these topics? Do I have to make up an opinion I don't necessarily have?
One way round this is to have two storylines. Two characters could learn the opposite things and both come to similar fates, or they could both learn the same lesson and have totally opposite fates. Of course their fates are going to depend upon the type of society they enter so that would also play into the equation. In either example, it could easily be read as me making a moralistic statement about the two different societies. So, the two socieites have to be held equal. I worry that this would tend towards abitrariness.
And also, what if I want to have only one character?
Maybe here the ambiguity enters with the character's return to society - there is an ambiguous response to what the character has learned, and to what he's trying to teach. This would probably work better as it's the same society reacting to one lesson. But here the ambiguity is saved for the end. Still, it's a solution...
But it's not a solution inkeeping with what I see as the true intent of mythic work. The intent of mythic work does seem to be to provide some sort of solution, to provide a working answer for the issues in life. As soon as a story stops containing a message then it loses some of that mythic quality.
But is making a story mythic that important? The best I can do is this (long) quote from an interview with Charles de Lint:
JP: Since we're attending a conference on myth and imagination, why are those things important to today's society?
CdL: They're important because we don't have them in our lives. People nowadays grew up with, and the ideals that they have, are rock stars and super models and actors and sports figures. And they don't sustain the ideal because they're fallible. The characters of myth or the characters of legend are great ideals in terms of the right way to sort of live your life. Again, it goes back to that same thing about repercussions and how everything you do is gonna have an effect somewhere and so you should maybe pay attention to that. The idea of respecting everything that's around you, not just yourselves, your family, your friends, but also other people and the city you live in, your environment. To me, it's all connected. I find a connection in all that sort of stuff. And I find those kind of things in mythic stories a lot. I don't find it in the story of an actor addicted to heroin, or a sports figure who does these amazing feats then we find out that they were on steroids. I don't find that uplifting feeling in those kinds of stories. And because the old mythic stories are kind of getting far away from where we live, that's why it's fun to write new stories, new stories with a mythic feel that are set in the here and now. I get so much mail from people, or I go on a book tour, and people come up to me and they'll bring me a copy of my book Dreams Underfoot, for instance, and they'll say, "This is the book that got me through high school," you know, or "This is the book that got me through whatever," and it's very humbling, and it's a wonderful feeling to have, that you were able to help somebody you didn't even know, so indirectly. But it also reinforces that concept to me that the mythic material we're working with does have impact and does have some place in the modern world.
Now, I've just started reading some of de Lint's stories and I find them beautiful. They're hopeful. Not in a trite or contrived way, but in a simple, true way. They connect with the reader. And I think the above quote helps show the importance of mythic structure in writing.
Essentially, I believe that mythic stories comfort people. But at the same time, I enjoy reading ambiguous stories and I believe we live in an ambiguous world. They can ring more true and can reflect the world that surrounds us more accurately.
Comfort is a very important thing. Finding shelter in this world can be hard, and providing it in the form of literature is something I want to do. But at the same time I want to avoid the escapist notion that fuels so much of the Tolkein-lite crap that floods the fantasy/science-fiction shelves at book stores. de Lint manages, mostly, to provide comfort without the escapism, but he has little ambiguity.
So, again I am back to my initial problem: how to introduce ambiguity to mythic stories without undermining the shelter that they provide for people. It can't come at the end - that is where redemption lies, and to steal that is to steal the hope from the stories, and it is the hope that I find so enchanting in de Lint's stories. It must come before. It has to come during the struggle. It must be in the hero, in his problem, and in the forces that oppose him, exactly where it is in our lives.
3.10.06
some additional thoughts on the collective unconscious and also some new ones on the tarot
So I've been thinking more about the collective unconscious and I just can't imagine it being the result of some similarity in brain patterns, or some pool of collective psychic imagery. Rather, I have convinced myself that it must be some artifact of society. It is caused by society, rather than causing it. However, I also currently believe that it is an integral lynch pin of social human behaviour, and it allows society to continue to exist and to propagate.
The collective unconscious (there has to be a better term...) is then, I propose, a collection of the fundamentals of social existence. The archetypes and our relation to them is a universal bonding factor, something we can all relate to. This would explain the wide-ranging nature of these images. I have no idea if they appear in Eastern writings, and would actually expect them not to. I would pose that there are probably several collective unconscii (sp?) for cultures that developed with little interaction (e.g. East-West). My supposition would go so far to say that there are likely some areas of significant overlap (representing common ground between the two socities) but also some areas of significant departure.
The use of these collective images, images we can all relate to, in stories, art, etc. would therefore provide a certain glue, which holds society together. In my fictional writings, where I use mythic structure, I have noticed the stories become one of conformity. The hero, after his trials and tribulations comes to embrace the societal values that he formally ranted against. And, as I pointed out previously, the hero sacrifices himself (the individual) before he returns home to save society.
Thus mythic fiction is a force for society, against selfishness, and stimulating altruism. This is certainly not its only function, and I doubt the power of one individual piece, but as one, art using mythic tropes, tapping archetypes, acts to hold society together.
This sound all sorts of high and mighty but I think it may be true. It would certainly go some distance to explaining the creative urge. It would also explain the surprisingly positive response I have received to some of my stories (from friends and family only I would mention, I have only just submitted a piece for some more professional critique).
I am therefore going to continue to use mythic structure, and also to include more of these archetypes in my fiction. It strikes me that using fiction to try to knit society more tightly together, to increase the altruistic instinct is a decent goal in life.
But where to find guidelines on how to tap into the repository of images and thoughts that is the collective unconcious? Of course, by arguing that the collective unconscious is a universal feature of society, I am also bound to wander into the use of archetypes if I write unguided but I would prefer a more guided approach. However, Jung himself only mentions 4 archetypes (the self, the anima, the animus, and the shadow) and this is not enough to sustain fiction. Even when supplemented with other frequently mentioned archetypes (the mother, the mentor, the trickster, etc.) it seems there is more.
This is where I come to the Tarot. I want to make it perfectly clear up front that I don't believe that the Tarot can predict the future. That is new age, hippy bullshit--no more, no less. However, its reputation to do this impossible task is, I believe, tied into its relationship with the collective unconscious.
However old the Tarot is, it is pretty damn old. To have survived for so long it must be tapping into something pretty significant, and I am staking a hope on it being more than just human gullibility. People continue to find significance in these cards. A large part of this, certainly, is the human desire for causality. People look at the random assortment of cards and force connections to the situation they're contemplating. (Indeed, in this capacity, as long as the person using the cards is aware of this fact, I could see the Tarot actually being a useful way to examine a personal situation, rather than just as a way to fleece tourists out of $100). But, again I would point to the longevity of the cards. To have survived this long (at least 600 years according to wikipedia) they must have tapped into something pretty fundamental. Otherwise the old pictures would have lost their meaning centuries ago.
I would argue that the tarot is therefore a repository of the western collective unconscious.
It is therefore a perfect guide for creating fiction. I indeed to experiment with it's use as a tool to stimulate my creative juices. If you see my name up in lights in a few years, you'll know I was right.
So I've been thinking more about the collective unconscious and I just can't imagine it being the result of some similarity in brain patterns, or some pool of collective psychic imagery. Rather, I have convinced myself that it must be some artifact of society. It is caused by society, rather than causing it. However, I also currently believe that it is an integral lynch pin of social human behaviour, and it allows society to continue to exist and to propagate.
The collective unconscious (there has to be a better term...) is then, I propose, a collection of the fundamentals of social existence. The archetypes and our relation to them is a universal bonding factor, something we can all relate to. This would explain the wide-ranging nature of these images. I have no idea if they appear in Eastern writings, and would actually expect them not to. I would pose that there are probably several collective unconscii (sp?) for cultures that developed with little interaction (e.g. East-West). My supposition would go so far to say that there are likely some areas of significant overlap (representing common ground between the two socities) but also some areas of significant departure.
The use of these collective images, images we can all relate to, in stories, art, etc. would therefore provide a certain glue, which holds society together. In my fictional writings, where I use mythic structure, I have noticed the stories become one of conformity. The hero, after his trials and tribulations comes to embrace the societal values that he formally ranted against. And, as I pointed out previously, the hero sacrifices himself (the individual) before he returns home to save society.
Thus mythic fiction is a force for society, against selfishness, and stimulating altruism. This is certainly not its only function, and I doubt the power of one individual piece, but as one, art using mythic tropes, tapping archetypes, acts to hold society together.
This sound all sorts of high and mighty but I think it may be true. It would certainly go some distance to explaining the creative urge. It would also explain the surprisingly positive response I have received to some of my stories (from friends and family only I would mention, I have only just submitted a piece for some more professional critique).
I am therefore going to continue to use mythic structure, and also to include more of these archetypes in my fiction. It strikes me that using fiction to try to knit society more tightly together, to increase the altruistic instinct is a decent goal in life.
But where to find guidelines on how to tap into the repository of images and thoughts that is the collective unconcious? Of course, by arguing that the collective unconscious is a universal feature of society, I am also bound to wander into the use of archetypes if I write unguided but I would prefer a more guided approach. However, Jung himself only mentions 4 archetypes (the self, the anima, the animus, and the shadow) and this is not enough to sustain fiction. Even when supplemented with other frequently mentioned archetypes (the mother, the mentor, the trickster, etc.) it seems there is more.
This is where I come to the Tarot. I want to make it perfectly clear up front that I don't believe that the Tarot can predict the future. That is new age, hippy bullshit--no more, no less. However, its reputation to do this impossible task is, I believe, tied into its relationship with the collective unconscious.
However old the Tarot is, it is pretty damn old. To have survived for so long it must be tapping into something pretty significant, and I am staking a hope on it being more than just human gullibility. People continue to find significance in these cards. A large part of this, certainly, is the human desire for causality. People look at the random assortment of cards and force connections to the situation they're contemplating. (Indeed, in this capacity, as long as the person using the cards is aware of this fact, I could see the Tarot actually being a useful way to examine a personal situation, rather than just as a way to fleece tourists out of $100). But, again I would point to the longevity of the cards. To have survived this long (at least 600 years according to wikipedia) they must have tapped into something pretty fundamental. Otherwise the old pictures would have lost their meaning centuries ago.
I would argue that the tarot is therefore a repository of the western collective unconscious.
It is therefore a perfect guide for creating fiction. I indeed to experiment with it's use as a tool to stimulate my creative juices. If you see my name up in lights in a few years, you'll know I was right.
Signifiers:
collective unconscious,
mythic structure,
tarot,
writing
27.9.06
the individual vs. society, and the collective unconscious
Are human beings social animals? We live in large collective groups and have complex rules for our social interactions. Also, our close biological relatives seem to frequently organised themselves into social groups. It would certainly seem so.
However, our entire experience of life is limited to our own headspace. Every human being is limited to their own, fundamentally ego-centric point of view. We can try to imagine what others are feeling, but only by imagining what we ourselves would experience in a similar situation. What's more, it is far easier to simply ignore what other people are feeling. We are conditioned by societies rules to not do this, but we all do it, and we do it frequently. It is an effort to put ourselves in someone else's shoes.
It is easier to be selfish than it is to be altruistic.
Indeed, biologically speaking, this makes sense. If we look ourselves over others we are more likely to survive and pass on our genes. Law of the jungle and all that. (This argument is of course more complex, for example there may be situations in which helping others helps us survive, but I would still point that our theoretical ancestor is only helping others here in order to help him-/herself).
So, again, I would state: it is easier to be selfish than it is to be altruistic.
This, to me, does not seem like the nature of a social animal. Now, maybe my definition of social is unnecessarily harsh but when I look at the world around me I believe that almost all the evil in it comes from people being selfish, from people ignoring the negative consequences of their actions on others.
Often, of course, we can't help but hurt some in order to help others but I would argue that the moral position here would be to ensure that the majority benefit, and the minority is hurt. A truly social animal would even hurt themselves if the majority benefited.
This rarely happens.
So, by my argument so far: We are selfish by nature and it is from this that "evil" originates in the world.
I seem to have wandered dangerously close to something akin to original sin. At the very least, this line of argument seems to state that all people are integrally evil. And I'm not sure I believe that. It may be true, but I want to try to convince myself that it is not. After all, the majority of people do not seem to be comporting themselves in an evil manner. As I stated at the opening of this ramble we live in large collective groups (sometimes numbering in the millions) and we tend to survive. Evil happens, but it is the minority. There is a social instinct.
Where does it come from?
Before I enter tenuous territory, there are some obvious places that should be mentioned. Most importantly: we are more likely to survive if we all agree to certain social rules. If we load certain actions with a moral aspect, that society punishes, then they are less likely to happen, and the majority more likely to survive.
However, existence is possible in a fractured anarchistic, everyone out for themselves, environment, so, again, where does this social urge come from? If it is easier to see from our own point of view, why do we look from others? What makes us want to do as we are done by?
Here is the tenuous territory: the collective unconscious. I, personally, have significant doubts about the collective unconscious. It doesn't fit with my hard-won preconceptions about the world at all. However, the evidence is there. There are undeniably universal themes and archetypes, not only in world mythology, but in how we construct our own lives. These themes and archetypes are still important today. They have been transmogrified certainly, but they are still here.
Of particular interest, I think, is the hero archetype - the archetype that stands at the centre of the story, the archetype that we aspire to. The hero is defined by sacrifice. He sacrifices himself, an individual, in order that society benefits. That is why we call people like firemen and policemen heroes: they put themselves in danger so that society benefits.
So, I would suggest that the collective unconscious is, at least partly, responsible for the social urge in humans. What this answers, however... I don't know. The collective unconscious seems to be a symptom rather than a cause. Or maybe it is just a more fundamental expression of the social urge. Whatever... there must be a cause for the collective unconcious. I don't know what this is. Maybe it is something similar in the make-up of our brains. Or maybe it is a creation of society itself, a story made up by one randomly occuring collective that allowed it to survive and propagate. I don't know.
But it is there, and maybe by exploring it, it will be possible to find out a little bit more about that terminal case we call the human condition.
Are human beings social animals? We live in large collective groups and have complex rules for our social interactions. Also, our close biological relatives seem to frequently organised themselves into social groups. It would certainly seem so.
However, our entire experience of life is limited to our own headspace. Every human being is limited to their own, fundamentally ego-centric point of view. We can try to imagine what others are feeling, but only by imagining what we ourselves would experience in a similar situation. What's more, it is far easier to simply ignore what other people are feeling. We are conditioned by societies rules to not do this, but we all do it, and we do it frequently. It is an effort to put ourselves in someone else's shoes.
It is easier to be selfish than it is to be altruistic.
Indeed, biologically speaking, this makes sense. If we look ourselves over others we are more likely to survive and pass on our genes. Law of the jungle and all that. (This argument is of course more complex, for example there may be situations in which helping others helps us survive, but I would still point that our theoretical ancestor is only helping others here in order to help him-/herself).
So, again, I would state: it is easier to be selfish than it is to be altruistic.
This, to me, does not seem like the nature of a social animal. Now, maybe my definition of social is unnecessarily harsh but when I look at the world around me I believe that almost all the evil in it comes from people being selfish, from people ignoring the negative consequences of their actions on others.
Often, of course, we can't help but hurt some in order to help others but I would argue that the moral position here would be to ensure that the majority benefit, and the minority is hurt. A truly social animal would even hurt themselves if the majority benefited.
This rarely happens.
So, by my argument so far: We are selfish by nature and it is from this that "evil" originates in the world.
I seem to have wandered dangerously close to something akin to original sin. At the very least, this line of argument seems to state that all people are integrally evil. And I'm not sure I believe that. It may be true, but I want to try to convince myself that it is not. After all, the majority of people do not seem to be comporting themselves in an evil manner. As I stated at the opening of this ramble we live in large collective groups (sometimes numbering in the millions) and we tend to survive. Evil happens, but it is the minority. There is a social instinct.
Where does it come from?
Before I enter tenuous territory, there are some obvious places that should be mentioned. Most importantly: we are more likely to survive if we all agree to certain social rules. If we load certain actions with a moral aspect, that society punishes, then they are less likely to happen, and the majority more likely to survive.
However, existence is possible in a fractured anarchistic, everyone out for themselves, environment, so, again, where does this social urge come from? If it is easier to see from our own point of view, why do we look from others? What makes us want to do as we are done by?
Here is the tenuous territory: the collective unconscious. I, personally, have significant doubts about the collective unconscious. It doesn't fit with my hard-won preconceptions about the world at all. However, the evidence is there. There are undeniably universal themes and archetypes, not only in world mythology, but in how we construct our own lives. These themes and archetypes are still important today. They have been transmogrified certainly, but they are still here.
Of particular interest, I think, is the hero archetype - the archetype that stands at the centre of the story, the archetype that we aspire to. The hero is defined by sacrifice. He sacrifices himself, an individual, in order that society benefits. That is why we call people like firemen and policemen heroes: they put themselves in danger so that society benefits.
So, I would suggest that the collective unconscious is, at least partly, responsible for the social urge in humans. What this answers, however... I don't know. The collective unconscious seems to be a symptom rather than a cause. Or maybe it is just a more fundamental expression of the social urge. Whatever... there must be a cause for the collective unconcious. I don't know what this is. Maybe it is something similar in the make-up of our brains. Or maybe it is a creation of society itself, a story made up by one randomly occuring collective that allowed it to survive and propagate. I don't know.
But it is there, and maybe by exploring it, it will be possible to find out a little bit more about that terminal case we call the human condition.
Signifiers:
collective unconscious,
mythic structure,
the human condition
22.9.06
some random thoughts on iraq and the nature of leadership
NOTE: It should be mentioned that I am remarkably uninformed on this subject
The general opinion of a large number of people I know is that the War on Iraq (or whatever the most popular euphemism of the day is) was/is a mistake and that the troops should be withdrawn post-haste.
I disagree.
One of the few things I clearly recall from my course in Internation Relations is that, while democratic societies are exceptionally stable (and apparently almost never go to war against each other), democratizing states are exceptionally unstable as various parties jostle for position. Iraq, I believe, is a country in the process of democratizing. Therefore it does indeed seem necessary for an external force to present in case everything goes shit-wise. That external force in this case is (essentially) the U.S.
And therein lies the problem.
The problem is not necessarily that it is the U.S. specifically that is guarding the democratizing process (though that certainly carries its own baggage) but that it is predominantly only one country that is providing the guiding hand.
I would argue that any external country involved in another country's democratizing process is bound to end up wanting to protect itself, and to try to influence the process so that it comes out of it well. You could argue all day over whether this is the right thing to do (a country's government is surely supposed to protect it's own people, and yet shouldn't the people of primary importance here be the people of Iraq?) but it is going to happen whether it is morally wrong or right. (After all, who would re-elect a government that actively endangered him/her).
However, the more countries involved in guding the democratizing the more the individual desires of each nation would be blunted, and eventually, with enough people involved, the forces democratizing a nation would be molded into something as close to a win-win-situation for all as possible.
Basically, what I am saying is that the US going into Iraq (essentially) unilaterally was a mistake.
However, I do believe that removing Sadam Hussein from power was the right thing to do. The morally right thing to do. WMD or no (and I think no) I believe that Saddam Husseub is a vile human being who was doing vile things to a large number of people. It was a good thing for a large number of people that he was removed from power.
My question though, is whether Sadam Hussein would have been removed from power had the US waited for the international community to assist? There certainly is a chance that the international community would have said, yes, this man must be stopped. However, it would have taken a long time and more people would have been hurt. And there is also the chance that the international community would have said, no, we don't think it is within our purview to take this action, Sadam Hussein is not threatening any of us. Essentially the people of Iraq would have been abandonned to the whims of a madman, as long as that madman didn't threaten anyone outside of his own borders.
I have phrased this so it sounds like a Satanic position to hold, which belies my own feelings, but it is an understandable stance. Why should a country endanger its own people (a large number of people) for anothers?
Essentially, for it to be certain that the war on Iraq should take place, a leader had to emerge. It is predictable that the US would take this role (oil, the threat of terrorism, world hegemony, etc. the reasons are plentiful, some more pertinent than others).
So, for ensured action, a unilateral approach was almost required in this scenario, but it was also the worst way the action could be performed.
It also seems to me that this general type of situation is not limited to the war on Iraq. When rapid action is required then either a mass consensus is needed, or a leader. But who are the leaders? It seems to me that in order to believe you can/should be a leader you also have to believe that you would be a better leader than the majority of other people. In other words, in order to desire to be a leader, I would suggest that you have to lack a certain faith in the rest of humanity. A certain level of ego-ism is required. Generalizing slightly (and I hope only slightly) I would suggest that leaders (at least those who have actively sought power) have a stronger belief in the individual than in society.
And, considering we entrust the safety of society to these leaders then this strikes me as being a fundamental problem in the structure of society.
I certainly thing it is this problem which leads to people like Sadam Hussein, and to the US unilaterally attacking him.
But, like I said, I believe removing him from power was a good thing. All the other baggage associated with Iraq comes from the (essentially) unilateral nature of the action. But a unilateral action if not the only option, was the only sure option to remove Sadam Hussein.
And round and round it goes.
I see no neat solution to this problem. I think I heard or read somewhere that the only people who should be allowed to lead are those who don't want to (or possibly that people who want to lead are the very people who should never be given a position of power) and I have to say I agree. This is, of course, impossible.
Leaders are a fact of life but they do not come out of nowhere. And the Bush administration could not have started the war on Iraq without the mass consensus of its the US population. So maybe it is we followers who should be the most careful.
NOTE: It should be mentioned that I am remarkably uninformed on this subject
The general opinion of a large number of people I know is that the War on Iraq (or whatever the most popular euphemism of the day is) was/is a mistake and that the troops should be withdrawn post-haste.
I disagree.
One of the few things I clearly recall from my course in Internation Relations is that, while democratic societies are exceptionally stable (and apparently almost never go to war against each other), democratizing states are exceptionally unstable as various parties jostle for position. Iraq, I believe, is a country in the process of democratizing. Therefore it does indeed seem necessary for an external force to present in case everything goes shit-wise. That external force in this case is (essentially) the U.S.
And therein lies the problem.
The problem is not necessarily that it is the U.S. specifically that is guarding the democratizing process (though that certainly carries its own baggage) but that it is predominantly only one country that is providing the guiding hand.
I would argue that any external country involved in another country's democratizing process is bound to end up wanting to protect itself, and to try to influence the process so that it comes out of it well. You could argue all day over whether this is the right thing to do (a country's government is surely supposed to protect it's own people, and yet shouldn't the people of primary importance here be the people of Iraq?) but it is going to happen whether it is morally wrong or right. (After all, who would re-elect a government that actively endangered him/her).
However, the more countries involved in guding the democratizing the more the individual desires of each nation would be blunted, and eventually, with enough people involved, the forces democratizing a nation would be molded into something as close to a win-win-situation for all as possible.
Basically, what I am saying is that the US going into Iraq (essentially) unilaterally was a mistake.
However, I do believe that removing Sadam Hussein from power was the right thing to do. The morally right thing to do. WMD or no (and I think no) I believe that Saddam Husseub is a vile human being who was doing vile things to a large number of people. It was a good thing for a large number of people that he was removed from power.
My question though, is whether Sadam Hussein would have been removed from power had the US waited for the international community to assist? There certainly is a chance that the international community would have said, yes, this man must be stopped. However, it would have taken a long time and more people would have been hurt. And there is also the chance that the international community would have said, no, we don't think it is within our purview to take this action, Sadam Hussein is not threatening any of us. Essentially the people of Iraq would have been abandonned to the whims of a madman, as long as that madman didn't threaten anyone outside of his own borders.
I have phrased this so it sounds like a Satanic position to hold, which belies my own feelings, but it is an understandable stance. Why should a country endanger its own people (a large number of people) for anothers?
Essentially, for it to be certain that the war on Iraq should take place, a leader had to emerge. It is predictable that the US would take this role (oil, the threat of terrorism, world hegemony, etc. the reasons are plentiful, some more pertinent than others).
So, for ensured action, a unilateral approach was almost required in this scenario, but it was also the worst way the action could be performed.
It also seems to me that this general type of situation is not limited to the war on Iraq. When rapid action is required then either a mass consensus is needed, or a leader. But who are the leaders? It seems to me that in order to believe you can/should be a leader you also have to believe that you would be a better leader than the majority of other people. In other words, in order to desire to be a leader, I would suggest that you have to lack a certain faith in the rest of humanity. A certain level of ego-ism is required. Generalizing slightly (and I hope only slightly) I would suggest that leaders (at least those who have actively sought power) have a stronger belief in the individual than in society.
And, considering we entrust the safety of society to these leaders then this strikes me as being a fundamental problem in the structure of society.
I certainly thing it is this problem which leads to people like Sadam Hussein, and to the US unilaterally attacking him.
But, like I said, I believe removing him from power was a good thing. All the other baggage associated with Iraq comes from the (essentially) unilateral nature of the action. But a unilateral action if not the only option, was the only sure option to remove Sadam Hussein.
And round and round it goes.
I see no neat solution to this problem. I think I heard or read somewhere that the only people who should be allowed to lead are those who don't want to (or possibly that people who want to lead are the very people who should never be given a position of power) and I have to say I agree. This is, of course, impossible.
Leaders are a fact of life but they do not come out of nowhere. And the Bush administration could not have started the war on Iraq without the mass consensus of its the US population. So maybe it is we followers who should be the most careful.
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