a gallimaufry

Framing Fantasy: Matthew Sangster & Brian Attebery

A couple of days ago I watched this fascinating discussion about fantasy between Dr Matthew Sangster and Professor Brian Attebery, chaired by Dr Dimitra Fimi under the auspices of the Glasgow University Centre for Fantasy and the Fantastic. (By the looks of it, their YouTube channel has lots of other interesting talks on it.)

I enjoyed it a lot and was particularly taken with the idea of ‘fuzzy sets’ which they talked about as part of the vexed question of how we define fantasy. ‘Fantasy literature’ is a western construct and even within that tradition there are plenty of works which are hard to categorise. Few people would argue with The Lord of the Rings being classified as fantasy, but what about The Master and Margarita, Lolly Willowes, Nights at the Circus or Orlando? (And is it even useful to divide literature like this, unless of course you are a bookshop?)

The idea of fuzzy sets builds on the idea of there not being a binary fantasy/realist divide in fiction, but something of a continuum. You look at relationships and influences of texts upon another – and then you start creating a more interesting picture to explore. An example that they gave was Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast trilogy: an influence being Dickens’s fiction. Rather than isolating texts, you open them up.

Anyway, if you have time, then do listen… And last year I wrote about Brian Attebery’s Fantasy: How it Works for Shiny New Books if you are interested...

 

The King of Elfland's Daughter, by Lord Dunsany, at SNB

There are some books that are a little bit special, that may not be very popular but really speak to you. The King of Elfland’s Daughter, by Lord Dunsany, is one of them. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful fantasy novel, first published in 1924 and now reissued by Gollancz with the introduction by Neil Gaiman from their 1999 edition of the book.

I originally wrote about it here in 2015 but I’ve revised (and, I hope, improved) the piece for Shiny New Books – you can read it here.

Norse Mythology, retold by Neil Gaiman

There’s an English-language section of my local library; much of its contents don’t appeal but quite a bit does. I probably would not have gone out and bought a copy of Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology but there was absolutely no reason not to borrow it, so I did.

I think that this is an important and sometimes overlooked function of libraries. Not many of us have unlimited funds for book purchasing. If we’re going to be parting with money for something, we’re more likely to do so on something from which we’re fairly sure we will get what we want – enjoyment, enlightenment, or whatever. In a library, with nothing to lose, we can take risks with our reading, we can try out that author or dabble in a new genre.

Despite having a copy of Barbara Leonie Picard’s Tales of the Norse Gods and Heroes unread at home, I brought the Gaiman book back with me. What a pleasure it was! The tone was perfect – elegant, clear, funny and lively. (Alas, I had to return the book yesterday so I cannot quote anything here.) Sometimes writers retelling myths get a little bogged down in an archaic style, but Gaiman never does. I’d say, as someone who is profoundly ignorant about these myths, that it is intended as an introduction to them, as it is quite short. But it is such a good introduction I’ll definitely buy a copy for my daughter when she’s older.

I was surprised at how little Odin featured; Loki and Thor are the principal characters in these stories. Blunt force and skill in battle are highly valued (unsurprisingly, given their reputation) by the Vikings, no matter that the slaughter is often completely unnecessary. Thor is really nothing more than a big bully. I was intrigued that trickery also clearly met with the Vikings’ approval. Striking a deal and then reneging on it was praiseworthy; the only possible improvement would be then killing the person you’d just tricked. The gods decide that they need a defensive wall around Asgard to protect them from unfriendly giants. Along comes a mysterious man who says he can do this in three years. His price: the sun, the moon and the goddess Freya. The gods agree (apart from Freya) but only if he can complete the wall over the winter. When it becomes clear that he will succeed, they cunningly prevent him from placing the last stone and completing the wall. And then they kill him. So they have their wall, and they keep the sun, the moon and Freya. Hurrah!

I really enjoyed reading these, I am dusting down the Picard which contains plenty of stories Gaiman didn’t include, but I am very glad that I wasn’t a Viking.

(Johan Egerkrans, Idun, found here)