Contains some spoilers for Prince Caspian
Conventional wisdom holds that C. S. Lewis wrote The Chronicles of Narnia as a Christian allegory, so the main source for the series must be the Holy Bible. This is certainly an important influence, but we shouldn't neglect the other sources Lewis used. In my most recent reading of Prince Caspian, I was surprised to see a number of allusions to the plays of William Shakespeare.
The backstory about Caspian's wicked Uncle Miraz, who kills the king and takes his place while Caspian is still too young to rule, is very similar to rhe plot of Hamlet, in which the title character's Uncle Claudius kills King Hamlet, marries Queen Gertrude, and becomes the new monarch of Denmark, preventing Hamlet from succeeding his father to the throne.
Miraz's wily counselors Sopespian and Glozelle, who manipulate the king into entering combat by pretending that they want him to avoid battle, recall a number of Shakespearean villains, such as Iago, the treacherous advisor in Othello, and Sebastian and Antonio, the fratricidal conspirators in The Tempest.
Another reference to The Tempest appears in the chapter "Aslan Makes a Door in the Air," in which Aslan informs the Telmarines of their true origins. Like the Pevensie children, the Telmarines are Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve (humans from the "real world"). They are descendents of pirates who shipwrecked on a South Sea island, and Aslan proposes to send them back to this island to begin a new life. The Tempest, which also begins with a shipwreck on a beautiful tropical island, presents a story of punishment and redemption: the banished Prospero forgives the brother who tried to kill him, and Prospero's daughter, Miranda, sees the newcomers to the island as the beginning of a "brave new world."
Prince Caspian's final Shakespearean allusion is to the famous prophecy in Macbeth that the title character shall be defeated when "Birnan Wood do come to Dunsinane." Since woods can't move, Macbeth believes this is a colorful way of saying he will never be defeated, but he is tricked by the opposing army, who approach under camouflage of branches and leaves. Lewis makes the trick even better by including Dryads, Hamadryads, and Silvans (tree-spirits) in the Old Narnian forces, so that the actual woods advance on Miraz's army and terrify them into thinking that the world is ending.
In a previous posting, I explained why Prince Caspian was my least favorite book in the Chronicles of Narnia when I was a young reader. I stand by the critique I offered yesterday, but I must admit that even the weaker books in the series include some gems. Lewis's use of Shakespearean allusions confirms what I have often argued in this blog: children's fantasy is literature worthy of careful examination and should not be dismissed as cheap entertainment. Even after more than fifty years, the sophistication of the Chronicles of Narnia has the power to surprise and delight us.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
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Saturday, January 5, 2008
The Great Escape?
Popular literature as therapy
I've been reading a lot of scholarship about romance novels lately (yes, there actually are romance scholars), and I'm struck by the fact that nearly all of them describe popular literature as escapist, although they don't agree on whether this is a good or a bad thing. Some say that pop lit works as a kind of therapy, providing a much-needed break from the stresses of daily life without the expense of an actual vacation. Readers enter into another world by identifying imaginatively with the book's protagonist and return to their own lives feeling refreshed and better able to deal with the problems they left behind.
Popular literature as drug addiction
Other scholars describe escapist literature much more negatively. Reading is irresponsible because it allows the individual to avoid problems instead of dealing with them. Reading is at best a means of procrastination, at worst a dangerous kind of self-medication. Because the fantasy world acts as a safety valve for the reader's frustration by vicariously fulfilling all his or her wishes, the reader has less motivation to face problems head-on, resolve them, and achieve his or her dreams in the real world. These critics argue that escapist literature sedates people into accepting the undesirable circumstances of their lives (such as unhealthy habits, unhappy relationships, unsatisfying work, or social injustices) instead of inspiring them to change.
Are fantasy and sf really escapist?
Fantasy and science fiction are especially vulnerable to this kind of criticism because the genres are seen as unrealistic and therefore useless in bringing about any personal or social transformation. However, I've noticed that the imaginary societies in fantasy and science fiction have just as many problems as ours does; in fact, many authors create these fantasy worlds in order to address real-world problems through a strategy of defamiliarization. They describe a society based on unfamiliar laws and customs that seem illogical, unfair, or simply wrong; as the novel progresses, readers are able to recognize their own society in this depiction and see its successes and shortcomings much more clearly. This strategy is similar to the question posed by sociologists about how a Martian visitor would perceive life on earth: sometimes the author allows us to visit another alien world; sometimes we become the Martians and are surprised or even horrified by what we discover about Earth.
For example, Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series presents a future society that insists on cosmetic surgery for everyone over 16 to prevent anyone from enjoying an unfair biological advantage based on appearance. The surgery prevents young people from developing eating disorders like bulimia and anorexia, and it guarantees that political elections and job hires are no longer based on the candidate's looks--when everyone is beautiful, everyone is equal.
This seems like democracy, but Westerfeld explains that this is actually tyranny. Why should someone else decide how you "should" look? Who has the authority to determine what is and isn't beautiful? What's wrong with simply being yourself? And why do the "New Pretties" seem so conformist, so trivial, so obsessed with fitting in instead of acting independently? Why doesn't their beauty free them? Through the exploration of an unfamiliar society, Uglies enables us to recognize our society's arbitrary standards of beauty, critique the media's enforcement of these standards, and confront our own complicity in obeying them.
By locating his or her story in another world where familiar allegiances and divisions don't apply, an author is able to create sympathy for an argument without running up against preconceived objections like "Well, an America-hating liberal WOULD say that" or "I don't have to listen to this paranoid conservative rant." Fantasy and science fiction create space for new ways of looking at old problems. Witness Orson Scott Card's critique of war and the military complex in Ender's Game or J. K. Rowling's protest against government intrusion into education in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Indeed, the more fantastic the text, the easier it is to find parallels to our own experience. This is why Lewis Carroll's Alice books have been so beloved and so influential. Who hasn't felt as bewildered and disoriented as Alice on her travels through Wonderland? Who hasn't run up against a regulation every bit as nonsensical and frustrating as the one the White Queen explains to Alice in Through the Looking Glass: "The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today"?
I'm not denying the pleasures of escapism. There's nothing I like better than snuggling up in my fleecy pajamas and losing myself in a good book. However, a really good book doesn't just help you get lost; it also helps you find your way back to a world you can see more clearly.
I've been reading a lot of scholarship about romance novels lately (yes, there actually are romance scholars), and I'm struck by the fact that nearly all of them describe popular literature as escapist, although they don't agree on whether this is a good or a bad thing. Some say that pop lit works as a kind of therapy, providing a much-needed break from the stresses of daily life without the expense of an actual vacation. Readers enter into another world by identifying imaginatively with the book's protagonist and return to their own lives feeling refreshed and better able to deal with the problems they left behind.
Popular literature as drug addiction
Other scholars describe escapist literature much more negatively. Reading is irresponsible because it allows the individual to avoid problems instead of dealing with them. Reading is at best a means of procrastination, at worst a dangerous kind of self-medication. Because the fantasy world acts as a safety valve for the reader's frustration by vicariously fulfilling all his or her wishes, the reader has less motivation to face problems head-on, resolve them, and achieve his or her dreams in the real world. These critics argue that escapist literature sedates people into accepting the undesirable circumstances of their lives (such as unhealthy habits, unhappy relationships, unsatisfying work, or social injustices) instead of inspiring them to change.
Are fantasy and sf really escapist?
Fantasy and science fiction are especially vulnerable to this kind of criticism because the genres are seen as unrealistic and therefore useless in bringing about any personal or social transformation. However, I've noticed that the imaginary societies in fantasy and science fiction have just as many problems as ours does; in fact, many authors create these fantasy worlds in order to address real-world problems through a strategy of defamiliarization. They describe a society based on unfamiliar laws and customs that seem illogical, unfair, or simply wrong; as the novel progresses, readers are able to recognize their own society in this depiction and see its successes and shortcomings much more clearly. This strategy is similar to the question posed by sociologists about how a Martian visitor would perceive life on earth: sometimes the author allows us to visit another alien world; sometimes we become the Martians and are surprised or even horrified by what we discover about Earth.
For example, Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series presents a future society that insists on cosmetic surgery for everyone over 16 to prevent anyone from enjoying an unfair biological advantage based on appearance. The surgery prevents young people from developing eating disorders like bulimia and anorexia, and it guarantees that political elections and job hires are no longer based on the candidate's looks--when everyone is beautiful, everyone is equal.
This seems like democracy, but Westerfeld explains that this is actually tyranny. Why should someone else decide how you "should" look? Who has the authority to determine what is and isn't beautiful? What's wrong with simply being yourself? And why do the "New Pretties" seem so conformist, so trivial, so obsessed with fitting in instead of acting independently? Why doesn't their beauty free them? Through the exploration of an unfamiliar society, Uglies enables us to recognize our society's arbitrary standards of beauty, critique the media's enforcement of these standards, and confront our own complicity in obeying them.
By locating his or her story in another world where familiar allegiances and divisions don't apply, an author is able to create sympathy for an argument without running up against preconceived objections like "Well, an America-hating liberal WOULD say that" or "I don't have to listen to this paranoid conservative rant." Fantasy and science fiction create space for new ways of looking at old problems. Witness Orson Scott Card's critique of war and the military complex in Ender's Game or J. K. Rowling's protest against government intrusion into education in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Indeed, the more fantastic the text, the easier it is to find parallels to our own experience. This is why Lewis Carroll's Alice books have been so beloved and so influential. Who hasn't felt as bewildered and disoriented as Alice on her travels through Wonderland? Who hasn't run up against a regulation every bit as nonsensical and frustrating as the one the White Queen explains to Alice in Through the Looking Glass: "The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today"?
I'm not denying the pleasures of escapism. There's nothing I like better than snuggling up in my fleecy pajamas and losing myself in a good book. However, a really good book doesn't just help you get lost; it also helps you find your way back to a world you can see more clearly.
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