Copying Tolkien

In the realm of fantasy, the most common of clichés is to borrow from Tolkien. I wanted to take a moment to explore this phenomenon if for no other reason than to better understand myself as a fantasy writer.

Regardless of how much we’ve read in our lifetimes, some of us find the world of fiction so fascinating that we determine to add to it. What we choose to add is more than likely a decision based on what we like to read, and for some of us, that preference includes fantasy. Our ideas of fantasy must be formed from some definition of the genre, a definition we often discover through examples. As we endeavor to create new stories, we reference our known definition of the genre, and I think the rigidity of that definition could be based on the volume of fantasy works we’ve been exposed to.

Tolkien’s works, particularly The Lord of the Rings, have such popularity and notoriety that we are highly likely to read them once we begin exploring the fantasy genre. (In some cases, we must read his works as part of a classroom assignment.) Once we’ve read them, they become part of our fantasy definition, but that may not be all that happens.

When we enter Middle Earth, there’s something magical that occurs. One of my college professors who taught a literary course on speculative fiction had read The Lord of the Rings several times, and he said that it was a world he always enjoyed returning to. Tolkien’s creation is vivid and detailed, and as writers, we want our own work to be just as captivating. We want memorable places and endearing characters.

As beginning writers, we recall the strongest elements of Tolkien’s world, and we try to imitate them. Perhaps we use elves and dwarves or a struggle against a dark lord. In our attempts to write like Tolkien, we inadvertently copy his world. (I know there are writers who decide to go directly into his world in the form of fan fiction, but I believe that most fantasy writers are striving for uniqueness.) As we grow, we learn how to avoid certain types of clichés, but this takes time, and through this maturing period we often submit our works to various magazines and book publishers, wondering why we’re being called cliché (if we’re called anything at all).

How much can fantasy fiction resemble Tolkien before it becomes clichéd? How much can anything in fantasy fiction resemble known fantasy tropes before it becomes clichéd? I would like to see more experienced authors attempt to write high fantasy to stretch the limits of these two questions. I think high fantasy can be done well without duplicating Middle Earth, even if it seems as difficult as destroying the Ring in the fires of Mount Doom.

Beyond High Fantasy

I recently realized that I had a bias towards High Fantasy, specifically favoring it over other subgenres within fantasy. I felt it was what I should write and that I should not deviate. In trying to identify myself as a writer with very specific parameters, I limited what I could do, the stories I could tell.

This week, my wife and I watched a film titled Pan’s Labyrinth. This is a remarkably well-made film that uses magic realism in a brilliant way because to me, it seems that the audience could question whether there was ever any fantasy in it at all. (Hopefully that isn’t a spoiler for those who haven’t seen it.)

My wife and I spoke afterwards, and I mentioned that I wouldn’t write a story quite like that even though I enjoyed it, and she questioned my motivations. I found that I didn’t have any good justification for exclusively writing high fantasy, and if I continued to pursue that one type of writing alone, I would eventually burn out. I think I was scared to try something new, afraid of stepping beyond the familiar one-world I had created. Now that those fears have been exposed, I realize how foolish they really are, and that it’s time to let go and simply write without self-imposed boundaries.

From here on, I think I will fall back upon the more general title of storyteller, rather than fantasy writer. All of my recent work has been fantasy, specifically high fantasy, but in the future, my active collection of stories will include other genres and subgenres as well, depending on the stories I felt led to write. My writing will define who I am, not a subgenre.

Writing High Fantasy

I have several subscriptions to magazines publishing fantasy, and I'm noticing that high fantasy stories are in the minority. As a writer of high fantasy, I want to encourage speculative writers not to abandon this sub-genre in hopes that the grass is greener elsewhere. Join our happy throng, if only occasionally.

High fantasy, sometimes termed epic fantasy, encompasses a variety of stories. Certainly anything labeled as epic should include a plot that affects many nations, if not the entirety of the world. High fantasy by itself, however, may not necessarily reach to epic proportions (though it often does), but it will take place in another world or another time, where legendary beasts are commonplace and civilization has not yet reached the industrial age. I think of it as storybook fantasy. Usually there are heroes and villains, and in this sub-genre, there is a higher probability that characters on either side are very clearly heroes or villains. This is simply a high-level (no pun intended) definition for those who may not be as familiar with the term, but feel free to post any additional thoughts on how you would define high fantasy if you think it is worth noting.

There seems to be a negative connotation with writing high fantasy presently. Certainly there are the traps of becoming clichéd, especially if a story at all resembles the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. Another strike against high fantasy is that many inexperienced writers who try writing fantasy find themselves beginning with high fantasy, often because it was the first sub-genre they were exposed to. Since there is a plethora of high fantasy material written at an elementary level, there is the tendency to stereotype all high fantasy stories as unprofessional (or worse).

What high fantasy needs is a steady flow of excellent writing. There are a number of great writers who are experimenting with speculative stories that so closely resemble literary (real-life) fiction that only a hint of the fantastic exists. If we all move in such a direction, however, we are giving up on something great simply because a few voices say that high fantasy has already been done and cannot be done well again. Perhaps we've allowed others to shame us from writing how we should.

Consider the following analogy: all fantasy writers, regardless of sub-genre, are part of a massive army. We occupy the city of High Fantasy and have defended it well for generations. Now we've gathered so much strength that our soldiers pour forth and converge on new cities, including Magic Realism on the border of Literary Land. So many have departed to new challenges that unless some stout soldiers return, High Fantasy will collapse under any invading force. It is a war we should not lose, but the invaders are coming, and few choose to stand in the gaps left by the great heroes of yonder year. I am unwilling to surrender our city. Who will stand with me?