My latest Blog Gate post is up, a somewhat seasonal number entitled “Killer Trees with Icy Fangs Roasting on an Open Fire”. But it’s really about why fantasy is more realistic, in some ways, than realism, a point I was going to make in a thread on Lou Anders’ blog, except it got too wordy and off-topic, as I’m prone to do, so I repurposed it.
One thing people don’t get enough of at this time of year is Christmas music, so here’s the Roches singing some carols: “Joy to the World,” “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” “The First Noel,” “Angels We Have Heard on High” and “Adeste, Fideles.” (Because it’s not Christmas without an irregular imperative in Latin, I always say.)
I very much agree with this: Realism isn’t fantastic enough to represent the reality of inner life. I think it’s an interesting stance from which to critique works of fantasy too–not because “they’re escapist” but when they fail to be deep enough, brave enough or nuanced enough to convey the complexity and intensity of the inner life. When they fall short of their potential, I mean.
Yes, that’s the best standard to judge fantasy by: is it fantastic enough? So many of the standard tropes get used without reimagining them, so that they’re really no more fantastic than tables or bricks.