In Defense of Crapsack Worlds.

[matt_doyle]

This article on dark fantasy has started a discussion Ive been avoiding, since most people on my friendslist who have been discussing it have had very different opinions than my own -- between the article and some of the other commentary, they seemed to be describing a genre that was very different from the one I am familiar with.  Generally, people are tired of cynicism and grittiness being painted as inherently more realistic and valuable than sense of wonder -- and that's a criticism I can get behind, because I've had it myself, in reference to superhero comics, where I think the  lesson learned from Watchmen is the opposite of the lesson intended.  Of course, I have also argued for more realism in superhero comics, in my Comics Theses 95 posts (and did I ever actually post my reaction to that reaction, where I wanted to go in the opposite direction and express my sense of wonder in comics?  I sure composed the Hell out of it in my head...)

In any case, the following was my initial reaction and defense of darkness in fantasy, posted as a comment in sartorias 's comment threads -- so if there are bits that seem out of context, it's because this was not originally composed as a stand-alone post.


The books that have given me the most food for thought on this subject are also some of the books that have disappointed me most greatly:  Joe Abercrombie's First Law trilogy.  They go farther into the excesses of dark fantasy than any other series I can name, and are a pretty good exemplar of the tropes, I think.

For those who aren't familiar, the First Law trilogy is in theme and plot a deliberate subversion of the Lord of the Rings, where an aged wizard, caught in a rivalry with his most powerful fellow, assembles a group of adventurers to hunt down, find, and reclaim an ancient and powerful magical artifact.  One of the adventurers has nine fingers; another becomes king by the end of the story, and there the primary similarities end. 

Now, without spoilers:  the ending of these books <i>sucked</i>, and I do not recommend them to anyone except the most cynical fans of dark fantasy, who could handle it better than me.  I like dark fantasy, but I don't like it <i>because</i> of the darkness, or think that the darker it is, the better.

Going back to the original article, I want to note that I am astonished to see Robert E. Howard and Tolkien discussed in the same breath, and Howard decried as somehow antithetical to dark fantasy -- Conan, in the stories I read, was always the uncivilized remedy to civilized problems, mercenary but not materialistic, honorable but not ethical -- a hero who tread the line.  So I have a lot of problems on a pretty basic level with all the assertions that follow, because they seem to me to be making distinctions between fantasy and dark fantasy that I don't see, and superversive's post to me tends to be describing the characteristics of a genre I haven't seen.  Trying to deal with the assertions of both... well.  Maybe people also disagree with me about what those assertions are.  Let me know if I'm tilting at straw men here.  Regardless, if dark fantasy isn't to people's tastes, I can easily see why that is so.  I'm not trying to tell people they should read dark fantasy, or care about the characters, or that they are in error about anything but what dark fantasy means to the people who enjoy it, and whether it has a worthwhile side.

1:  Dark fantasy is torture porn, and fetishizes and glorifies violence.

I would say that dark fantasy, unlike most other  fantasy, addresses and problematizes the use of violence as a problem-solving methodology.  There are no clean swordfights, no just wars, no honorable duels.  Sometimes this descends into a cesspit that is completely unpalatable; but while in general I would not call dark fantasy "realistic," it's probably still more realistic than the heroic wars of many epic fantasies.  Sometimes lingering on the violence also has the effect of glorifying it; certainly the author still wants to make it exciting, to keep the reader immersed in the story.  My motive in reading dark fantasy, however, is not to revel in the bloodiness; and I know no-one over the age of eighteen who reads dark fantasy as violence porn.  The people I know who like violence porn read <i>everything</i> like violence porn.

The greatest warrior in The First Law trilogy hates fighting.  He does whatever he can to avoid it.  This is both because he is an intelligent, rational, practical person who fears for his life, and because he is a berserker, and hates and distrusts what he becomes in the middle of a fight.  When he fights, the reader is scared not only because he might lose his life (a more real and frightening possibility, but because he might lose himself, do things neither we nor he want to see him do.  When, at the end of every fight, (in which he is dishonorable and ruthless, so that the fight will be over as soon as possible), he says 'Still alive, we feel his relief.  We know what cost he is paying.

We also know the cost paid by the losers.  Another character, now employed as a torturer, is a former war hero who himself was tortured extensively as a prisoner of war.  In his thirties, he moves like a man in his seventies, lives with constant pain and indignity, and resents constantly those who either pity or fear him.  If these books are torture porn (and they are the nastiest, grimmest dark fantasy I ever read), then the readers are masochists as thoroughly as sadists.

For me, anyway, there are days in which I like to believe in heroes and high ideals, in which people can prosecute a war and finish with a happy ending.  And that's fine, if a little escapist.

There are also days when I want to see that consequences weigh on the heroes who live as much as the villains who die, and that while a fight may be a necessity it is not justified, and the sheathing of a sword does not end the struggle or the pain the sword was employed in the service of.  I find that escapist as well, and a different but no less cathartic way of feeling better about my own struggles than the epics give me.  I understand why people may be wearied of the violence in dark fantasy, averse to the grimness, and unable to care about the characters whose choices make them morally revolted.

But the characters are often just as revolted with their choices, and the mess that dark fantasy leaves their lives in makes me identify with them more strongly, not less.  I care about their problems because the ambiguity of the situation, the uncertainty of the resolution, the lack of a clear answer or a happy ending makes those problems more like my own (though thankfully I have no problems involving violence).

Of course, it's worth noting that I have heard devotees of dark fantasy rail about the blindness and simplicity of those who read and enjoy epic fantasy.  I disagree with those assertions as well.

I could keep going, and may later, but writing this comment was more tiring than I expected (I've been out of academia too long, clearly!  Though writing this has gotten me thinking about a scholarly paper on revenge stories, so maybe I haven't been out long enough), so for the moment I'll conclude.