Black Gate

“Utter originality is, of course, out of the question.”
 –Ezra Pound

“It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.”
 –Herman Melville

“Originality is nothing but judicious imitation.”
 –Voltaire

How does one go about writing a great piece of fantasy? Everybody seems to have his or her own answer. A lot of that depends on what you (personally) consider to BE “great fantasy.” In my view, the fantasist must be, first and foremost, original. That’s easier said than done.

We all know that fantasy tropes, plots, and devices are recycled endlessly, and that’s as it should be, since fantasy fiction is simply the modern equivalent of the myth cycles of early humanity. The heroes, conflicts, and adventures touch on the timeless themes that run through all literature, from BEOWULF to THE ODYSSEY to LORD OF THE RINGS to our modern fantasy epics. It’s been said before that “There are no new stories, just new ways to tell them.” And that’s the job of the modern fantasy writer: to tell a mythic story in an entirely new way. 

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I’ve been pondering the need for heroes in fiction again this week, and I thought it a good time to revisit a post I’d made on the Black Gate Livejournal page a few years ago. I imagine a lot of you haven’t read it; if you have, I apologize for the repeat.

During the school year my little girl brings home reading practice sheets every week. Each day we’re to time her reading the fluency sheet for a minute, three times, the idea being that it will improve her reading. She does get better at reading each time through, naturally, but she also gets pretty bored – I suppose I would, too, if I had to read the same thing over and over three times a day. But she’s also bored because the stories as a whole haven’t been very interesting. Except for one.

She brought home the story of Butch O’Hare. I’d never given much thought to whom O’Hare airport was named after. I suppose I assumed it was named after a politician. None of these fluency stories can be read completely in a minute—she was only about a third of the way through when the minute timer dinged. My son, her older brother, was so interested that he looked up from his own homework and said “actually, that’s pretty interesting.” I agreed, and asked her to keep reading, and she was intrigued enough herself that she kept going without complaint.

Stories about heroes fascinate my family, and, I believe, humanity as a whole. I think that we’ve become so cynical that we sneer a little when we hear stories of heroics and imagine that it can’t really be true, or we wonder if the hero secretly beats his wife. We are programmed to think that we REALLY need to read stories of ordinary people or cowardly people or despicable people and that stories of heroes are for children. We’re savvy enough now not to believe everything we hear or read, because, God knows, we’ve been fooled plenty of times.

But we still need heroes. And Butch O’Hare was one.

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