High Fantasy and Feminist Fails

The Wizard of Earthsea

The story follows the early years of a legendary wizard; his training in childhood, a particularly disastrous mistake he makes in adolescence, and the difficult journey he must face in consequence.

Goodreads recommended this book to me. I had never heard of it, although it is said to be a cult classic in juvenile fiction often compared to Lord of the Rings. While it is missing that essential element that makes Lord of the Rings the best thing ever (namely, Tolkien), it is clearly in the same high fantasy genre. The language is a bit archaic and distant. We are dumped headlong into this very well built and internally consistent world and expected to keep up as best we can. It doesn't even have hobbits to bring the whole thing a little nearer to home.

The characters are drawn with a few lines. They are not sketched in detail, either physically, or in their characters. But the few words and phrases used to describe them are able to give me a sense of an individual, not a generic type. It's quite masterful, really. I rarely come across books of this genre. When I was in middle school, this was the sort of thing I was looking for, exclusively, and I was often frustrated that I couldn't find it. I have gotten so used to settling for something almost like this, that I have forgotten how nice it is to read the real thing. I love archaic language for some reason.

As a fantasy in this high tradition, one expects it to be a moral tale, epic battles of good and evil. It is, though it is not too heavy handed. One expects wonder and strangeness and fabulously evil, devious dragons. Check. Magic spells, mysteries, terrifying monsters, wise mentors, loyal friends: check.

The convention that is missing is the virtuous lady. As annoying as I find her sometimes, the alternative is even worse. In this book I have met the indifferent and mostly ignorant lady, the empty headed pretty face has appeared once as a side attraction, and we have met with a traditional witch; the kind that is only beautiful when the hero is enchanted and is determined to undo all progress he has made by preying on his weaknesses.

At the end of the story a almost tolerable female character shows up just long enough to be kind to the main character and send him off on the last leg of his quest. But even she is dismissed at her introduction. She is described as being prettier than her brother, but much less clever.

Early in the story two pieces of proverbial wisdom sum up the place women hold in this imaginary society. "Weak as women's magic" and "Wicked as women's magic." That about does it. The author (Ms. Ursula K. Le Guin) doesn't seem interested in confronting this issue. But it is so glaring (maybe just in my feminist eyes, especially because the author is female) that I wonder if an exception that breaks the rule will come into one of the next books.

Overall, with the exception of my feminist complaint, I am a fan. The feature that tips the scales for me on this one is that the protagonist is believable in both his flaws, and his struggle to overcome them. As his character arch continues, the change in him is never an instant cure, nor does he walk open eyed into the same kind of trap over and over, as some protagonists tend to do. There is some interesting philosophy underlying the main conflict of the book, to which I will have to give some more thought. Again, it is the sort of thing you would expect in high fantasy; Questions of light and dark, good and evil and the nature of Man. Fun stuff like that.

It's a quick read at just under 200 pages. I found it pretty griping. But it's language makes it a bit dense so that it is not exactly a page turner. It's one to savor and think about.

The Boy with the Bread

This is really off-topic, but was anyone else amused that the boy with the bread is named "Peeta"? It was a little hard for me to take him seriously at first.

Brave New World and Dante's Paradise

To begin my foray into Eucatastrophes, Paul and I decided to read the book Brave New World by Aldous Huxley in order to further dedicate this summer to dystopias. An acquaintance of mine once described the book 1984 as “Dante’s Hell as seen through the eyes of an atheist”. Brave New World is different in that there is no scary Big Brother watching over the actions of the populace. No one is subject to violence by their government. People are generally happy, and the only thing they fear is being exiled from the benevolent World State. It is quite different from the dystopias seen in The Hunger Games and 1984. If Dante’s hell is truly seen in the world of Big Brother, I say that Brave New World is Dante’s heaven as seen through the eyes of a modernist. For this reason, I see it as something truly twisted despite all the non-violence and bliss. 

In the Divine Comedy, Dante writes of heaven in the third book Paradiso. Upon exiting Purgatory, he witnesses the great spheres (sun, moon, and various other planets) that hold the residents of heaven. The saints are divided amongst the spheres according to the lives they have lived. Those on the moon are saints who failed to live up to a promise they made to God. Those on the sun are the saints who are shining examples to the faithful (St. Francis, St. Thomas). The spheres continue on in regards to the quality of the saint and end where the Trinity resides. Despite the divisions, animosity is not present for the saints on the higher spheres serve those of the lesser spheres. No one in heaven is ignorant and thus know exactly why they remain on the sphere God’s chooses for them. It is also through the absence of ignorance that the heavenly host basically knows all that happens on earth. St. Aquinas and St. Francis both proclaim their disappointment in the still living Franciscans and Dominicans who have thrown away their vows for vices. Since the intellect and will of every saint is directed towards fulfillment in God, no one feels a sense of loss. Since passion requires pain (the origin of the word passio is actually grounded in the crucifixion of Christ), the painless existence in heaven causes the loss of the passions. God illuminates their intellect so they are never pained by ignorance. The effects of original sin and concupiscence are gone so the pain of falling away from God is gone. God provides meaning so none of the saints feel that they have lost meaning. It is actually because of this that people generally do not like the Paradiso and prefer Inferno and Purgatorio since those books are entirely about corrupted and purified passions. The dystopia in Brave New World takes just about everything there and warps it into something else.

Near the end of the book, the Controller and the Savage enter into an argument as to the quality of the World State. Controller Mond asserts that the government seeks to remove the passions that drive mankind. Much like in Paradiso, the residents of the World State are freed of their passions through the policies of the government. It is just the way they go about freeing mankind of pain that gives the supposed utopia its twisted nature. The family structure does not exist at all in the World State. This was done to remove the pain of families being broken, of children or parents dying, of disappointing one’s parents, and so on. Births no longer happen due to the use of genetic factories that produce hundreds of test tube twins. So that further wipes away any sense of motherhood or fatherhood. Marriage no longer exists as to remove the pain of divorce or proposals being rejected. Promiscuity is encouraged so no one feels sexually rejected by another (the motto being "everyone belongs to each other"). Sterilization, contraceptives, and abortion are used to prevent anyone from regretting their sexual encounters. There are divisions in society. But no one really minds the use of a caste system since everyone is conditioned to be totally fine with the caste they are in. Each caste is told about how good their caste is and how dumb the others are. As such, no one feels like they need to compare their group to any other. 

Violence is not present in the World State. Instead, widespread use of a drug called soma is encouraged. Should anyone feel slightly unsettled by another, the individual only needs to go use some soma and he is whisked away to a “holiday” in which there is no hangover. In the only instance in which people do act violently towards another (the Savage prevented a group of workers from getting their soma rations), riot police arrive with drug sprayers that causes the mob to start an orgy and forget any of their violent intentions. People do not fear the World State like those in 1984 fear Big Brother. The only real punishment that everyone dreads is being exiled and losing the ability to have constant sex and use soma. 

Everyone is ignorant since evidently that causes bliss. Controller Mond states that knowledge causes instability. To Mond’s sorrow, even his beloved Science is too dangerous for the stability of the World State (Yes, the Controller is free of the ignorance that everyone else has. He just chooses to not care for what he sacrifices since the happiness of the majority matters most.). Shakespeare is mentioned in particular as one of the many authors censored by the government. No one else writes about passion more than Shakespeare. I detect a sort of anti-Foucault logic at play since Foucault regards the acquisition of knowledge to be an act of one asserting power over another. With everyone being ignorant, no one can claim intellectual superiority over another. Although the government officials staunchly defend the dogma of mandatory ignorance, the government does not kill any rising intellectual. Intelligent individuals are merely exiled to an island to live amongst similar minded people. Unless you do what Mond did and become a Controller of the government of course. Again, the World State wants its people to be happy and rebels are allowed to live happily amongst other rebels on islands. With such treatment of rebels, no wonder none of the island sanctuaries seem to speak out harshly against their former home. Everyone is just so happy. 

Now the reason why I compare this to Dante’s Paradiso is that this would seem a lot like heaven for someone who agrees with the ideas of the World State. The government does not have this aura of pure evil that Big Brother has. For the modernist, this most likely is what the ideal world would be like. While the modernist finds this existence to be heavenly, I personally find it awful. I agree with the Savage who states that the entire society is grossly superficial and devoid of any meaningful relations. In Dante’s heaven, the saints are blissful in their truly inspired intellect. Citizens of the World State are blissful in their infantile stupidity. Saints in heaven are satisfied in their chastity; The World State has no concept of sexual ethics. God and the Virgin Mary provide the saints with a father and mother that never fail them. In the World State, no mothers and fathers exist to disappoint any child. Heaven is one big family firmly remaining together. No families exist in the Brave New World. I could go on but that would make this even longer than it needs to be. All in all, the entire society in Brave New World is the complete antithesis to the papal encyclical Humanae Vitae.  All of the people are used as means to an end (the end being a superficial, drug-induced happiness). As just a final observation, as I mention Humanae Vitae, I recall that the entire society has this twisted Catholic atmosphere. Everyone worships The Ford and “cross” themselves with a T (in honor of the great Model T). The World State has its own form of a church hierarchy with its own archbishops and such. Controller Mond even states that the drug soma is basically “Christianity without the tears”. The entire book is basically showing a society that is antithetical to anything Catholicism professes. For this reason, this modernist heaven is basically hell for Catholics. It is a society where the pro-life movement and Humanae Vitae have essentially been forgotten.

The Mockingjay Catastrophe *spoilers*

Even though this blog is titled “Eucatastrophes,” that is exactly what the Hunger Games Trilogy is not. However, this does not mean that the Hunger Games is any less of a Christian apologetic, rather, it further demonstrates the opposite. Let me explain.

The dictionary definition of a eucatastrophe is “a sudden and favorable resolution of events in a story; a happy ending.” However, to limit the definition to simply a happy ending is to it a disservice. This sudden turn of events must be at the same time unexpected, but not inconsistent with the story. In other words, throughout the story there needs to be an underlying sense of hope, a hope that the world will be righted and that justice will prevail. Obviously, the resurrection of Jesus is the prime example of this kind of happy ending.

It can be argued that the first Hunger Games story is a eucatastrophe. The happy ending is threefold. Katniss’ survival, Peeta’s survival, and the realization that their actions within the game have the potential to take down the wicked Panem. Furthermore, while it’s not unexpected for the heroine of the story to be victorious, the fact that both District 12 tributes survived wasn’t as predictable. Also, their victory symbolizes the great righting of the wrongs, the fall of the mighty wicked and the triumph of the righteous. At the end of the book there is a happy ending and a sense of hope for the future. Not a perfect eucatastrophe, but the basic elements are there.

However, after reading Catching Fire and Mockingjay (which are basically one continuous story), the eucatastrophe vanishes. Collins leaves her readers no reason to think that the barbarism of Panem will end. There is no happy ending. Panem is replaced by another brutal regime. The war is ended by the slaughter of children. Even Katniss, who more than anyone knows the horrors of the Hunger Games, supports their continuation to enact revenge on the children of the Capitol. Both Katniss and Peeta survive, but they are not whole, they are mere ghosts of who they were. Mockingjay demonstrates the complete and irredeemable brokenness of the world, there is no hope. 

Although, I believe that this furthers the Christian apologetic of this story. In reference back to my previous post, the culture of the Hunger Games is entirely post-Christian. Thus, it makes sense that a shifting of power does not mean a lessening of evil. All this world knows is force, violence, brutality, why would that simply change with the dictator? Collins explicitly compares Panem with ancient Rome, the Hunger Games with gladiatorial combat. Using that analogy then, what changed the culture of Rome? It wasn’t the shifting of power from one Caesar to another. It wasn’t even the drastic change in governments, from republic to dictatorship. What utterly changed Roman culture was the Incarnation of Christ. Thus, because there is no happy ending, I think that Collins, whether she knows it or not, provides her readers with an excellent example of a society that is post-Christian. 

Though, there is one particular aspect of the story that hints at a happy ending. Katniss, throughout all three books, very adamantly expresses her desire to never have children, and this desire was not unique. Why? Because there is no hope for their future. Like modern Europe, the Districts simply lost their will to continue on. However, through her relationship with Peeta, Katniss does have children. Thus, she eventually found a spark of hope, and if a spark catches fire, who knows what is possible.

Next on my list is Brave New World. The summer of dystopias continues...

Hunger from the Inside

I saw the Hunger Games movie before I knew much about the books. I was really surprised by a few things about the book. As always, I think about this as a writer.

I wrote a first person narrative once. I didn't like it, so I went back and wrote it in third person. 1st person narratives kind of annoy me. I figure that a writer needs a darn good reason for using first person. One of my favorite authors used it in her first book and I almost didn't read the second one because of it. The other three book she wrote in the third person were so much better. But I digress.

There are many reasons that they annoy me, but I am starting to see why authors like to use it. It is one advantage that books will always have over movies. Short of putting the main character behind the camera, a movie can't recreate the intimate relationship a reader forms with the narrator voice of a first person narrative. It's always interesting when those do get adapted for screen.

The Hunger Games really monopolizes this advantage. Not only is it first person, but it's present tense too. This heightens the urgency and tension of the story because there is no guarantee that Katniss survives. She could simply stop telling the story at any moment and we would never know what happens. I really apprciate the depth of her character.

Another thing that makes a first person narrative fall flat is when the voice is in any way false or or dishonest. As a reader, I believe that if Katniss is hiding anything from us, or trying to color our perceptions, she is doing it subconsciously and so also fooling herself. We are privy to all of her changing thoughts and feelings as they happen. No self editing in retrospect. No stoicism. We get the inner struggle to stay strong, and not just the outward success that we get in the movie. She is strong. But it's good to see that she is strong because she's fighting to be that way. She feels very real, and we are inside with her.

I haven't finished the book yet. But I figured I will have other things to write about as I read more. So I'll break my thoughts up a bit this way.

Hungry for the Hunger Games

First off, this story has one of the best book-to-film adaptations I have ever seen. Not only is some of the dialogue is repeated verbatim, but, without an annoying narrator, the movie is able to capture the essence of a first person narrative. Neither the book nor the movie disappoint.

I will refrain from giving a synopsis of the story, if you don’t know it then go watch the movie. However, there are a couple comments that I will discuss. Some of my ideas come from this review by Steven Greydanus and this review by Fr. Robert Barron, you have been warned, therefore it is not plagiarism :)

The first concerns the violence in both the book and the film. Perhaps it is due to my tolerance of described violence, but, in comparison to the movie, the book is tame. When I read, “The boy from District 3 only has time to turn and run before Cato catches him in a headlock from behind. I can see the muscles ripple in Cato’s arms as he sharply jerks the boy’s head to the side” (Chapter 17), I am not as stunned as I am when I see a teenager break another kid’s neck on screen. However, I want to give my respect to the movie for not glorifying the violence. It was very difficult to watch, and honestly, that is how it needed to be. The entertainment of Panem is horrific and should be dealt with as such. 

My second thought is really a question. How much of the cultural critique in this book is intentional, and how much is Collins simply writing from the perspective of one who has been steeping in a Christian culture her whole life? For example, there are no Christian names in this novel. In the Capitol the names are Latin names (intentionally forcing the reader to relate the Hunger Games to the Gladiatorial Games), and in the districts the names are associated with whatever that distract is known for or the names are agricultural. What does this imply? While, whether she intended this or not, Collins effectively described a post-Christian culture. Post, because it is in the future, and post-Christian because there are no hints of Christianity or religion in this book. There’s not even the occasional “Oh my God,” in the heat of battle. 

I would like to think that she did this intentionally. Why? Because, historically, there are no ritual human sacrifices en masse in Christian cultures. The Romans and the Carthaginians are pre-Christian, and the Mayans and Aztecs are outside of Christendom. Furthermore, when you add this to the fact that Panem is technologically advanced, this story practically becomes a Christian apologetic. It is not progress, science, or technology that prevents human sacrifice and gladiatorial games, it is the presence of Christianity. 

Alas, perhaps I am just reading Christopher Dawson into everything. In any case, The Hunger Games is a good young adult novel, and I cannot wait to begin book two.