ENGL 104 Blog Party Post 2010

Fantasy literature is for geeks. When the film Fellowship of the Ring, based on J. R. R. Tolkien’s book, came out in 2001, I saw it in Eureka, California with a crowd of people wearing cloaks. I’m frequently embarrassed to say that I read fantasy novels and love them. I’m even more embarrassed to say that I’m also writing a fantasy novel I started when I was a child.

At the recommendation of students over the course of some years, I began reading Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. I had resisted for awhile because I’m not overly fond of the kind of sword-and-sorcery fantasy that relies primarily on brawny men and screaming women off on a quest. While Jordan’s work does not fit this Conan stereotype, it is a “chosen one” story, which is another pet peeve of mine regarding fantasy literature. I like stories where average people can do great things without having to be the son of Darth Vader. Yet, I do like Robert Jordan’s writing, so my inquiry question is, “Why do I like Robert Jordan’s writing?” After thinking about this topic for some months, my conclusions are: 1) I like the complexity of the world in which the story is set, 2) my personality type draws me to this kind of fantasy where the whole world of the story exists in my head, and 3) more broadly, given the crisis in reading, I need to recognize the benefits of escaping into a good book for no other purpose than pleasure.

1) I like the complexity of the world in which the story is set. During the first book, The Eye of the World, a group of characters sets out on a journey to take the “Dragon Reborn” Rand al’Thor to Tar Valon where he can prepare for the Last Battle with the “Dark One.” Notice the very stereotypical “chosen one” plot! This book was not my favorite because it just followed the characters from point A to point B.

However, the subsequent books continue to follow the main characters as they split up. They develop as characters, each with his or her own challenges and successes, and they travel to countries in this fictional world where the customs are very complex and different from one another. The farmlands of Two Rivers and the palace at Caemlyn are pretty standard fantasy fare, but there are also the desert-dwelling Aiel whose sense of honor is complicated. There is a port city inundated with mud where people in the lower parts of the city wear thick clogs to raise their shoes above the muck. In another city, the politics are deadly, and the nobles wonder feverishly whether others are moving against them in the Game of Houses, as in a chess match. Here is one example of the cultural detail Jordan provides:

Tairens in helmets rimmed and ridged, and breastplates over fat-sleeved coats striped in the colors of their various lords. Cairhienin in dark coast and battered breastplates and helmets like bells cut away to expose their faces. Small banners called con, on short staffs fastened to some men’s backs, marked minor Cairhienin nobility and younger sons, and sometimes merely officers, though few Cairhienin commoners rose to rank. Or Tairens, for that matter. The two nationalities did not mingle [. . .]. (97)

I like that the different soldiers have different armor reflecting their culture. The helmets for each kind of soldier have different structural elements, and the cloth portions of the uniforms have different ways of recognizing allegiance. I also like the politics depicted, that although these soldiers are traveling together, they don’t get along. So, the complexity of the world is very realistic. It makes the experience of reading the novels resemble a journey where they reader explores new cultures.

As the story follows the various characters, the pattern of the narrative becomes more complex as well, which is fun for avid readers who like challenges. There are about 10 characters the story follows, and the chapters zip among the events the characters encounter so that the narrative is like a patchwork or a jigsaw puzzle. This structure enlists the reader in putting the pieces together, and it makes me admire Jordan for keeping track of all the details from the tiny descriptions of helmets to the experiences of each of his characters. He does this not only in one 700-page book, but in a series of them. I can’t imagine the notes that would require!

2) My personality type draws me to this kind of fantasy where the whole world of the story exists in my head. There are many methods of categorizing personality, all ways of identifying the ways individuals process information, relate to the world, and gather energy. According to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, I am an INFJ—Introverting, iNtuiting, Feeling, and Judging. Based on these preferences, one might recognize that I am more inward-focused (introverting), I like abstract concepts and idealistic endeavors (intuiting), and I care about individuals and humane behavior (feeling). So, based on my preference for introversion and for feeling, it should be no surprise that I like to read. I enjoy living in my head and connecting emotionally with the lives of fictional characters. The intuiting aspect of my personality type indicates why I would like fantasy literature: fantasy is all about good vs. evil, light overcoming darkness, which is very idealistic. While I don’t see magic and elves in every corner, I do apply this idealism to my daily life, trying to do the right thing.

The aspect of personality that I think draws me most to Robert Jordan is introversion. My most powerful experience in studying the impact of my personality type on my preferences occurred at a summer 2008 workshop by Lee Knefelcamp that used the Kolb Learning Style Inventory. She used the inventory to divide up the participants, and I found myself in a group of people with similar preferences. We all liked ideas more than action, enjoyed complex intellectual tasks, found abstract theories to be “delicious,” sought knowledge in books, and liked to work alone. In other words, we were total geeks! The reason this experience connects particularly with Robert Jordan’s writing for me is that he puts a whole world into his series. For someone who likes to process information in her mind, having so much detail available to experience and think about makes the pleasure of the reading experience that much more powerful.

3) Given the crisis in reading, I need to recognize the benefits of escaping into a good book for no other purpose than pleasure. According to the 2004 National Endowment for the Arts report Reading at Risk, “literary reading in America is not only declining rapidly among all groups, but the rate of decline has accelerated, especially among the young.” This decline is important because it indicates our culture is turning away from an artistic activity that requires engagement, patience, reflection, attention, and creativity and fosters participation in social and cultural activities (vii). All of these qualities are important life skills not only for the individual but for the nation, and their decline makes me wonder what America will look like 50 years from now. Will we find other means of accessing these qualities, or will we become even more driven by the need for immediate satisfaction through media like reality TV and even more dominated by people who understand how to manipulate us through that need?

Based on this decline and on my work as a teacher of reading, I think it is important for me to stay connected to why I read. Like most other people, I don’t enjoy subjecting myself to unpleasant reading just because it is good for me. However, I do think reading broadly is important, particularly reading classics and best sellers, and I invest time in reading books recommended by others that I would not necessarily choose for myself, The Road, Grapes of Wrath, and Three Cups of Tea being my most recent forays into this territory. I also catch up on canonical literature that I haven’t read through the textbooks I use in teaching literature. For example, I’m not a poetry reader for entertainment, but I love analyzing poems. William Stafford’s “Ask Me” is a good example. I don’t know what this poem means. The last line is, “What the river says, that is what I say” (14). OK, great—what does the river say? According to a line earlier in the poem, the river is “silent”! Maybe that’s the point? This is not a fun poem for me to read. It doesn’t resonate with me, yet I enjoy combing through the wording and structure to try and figure out what that last line means. When I do this kind of reading, I find myself thinking about the ideas presented, and I stretch my knowledge and abilities. As Stacy Carleton notes, “literature serves as bridge to the real world and back again” (8). Even literature I dislike provides an opportunity for reflection on life. Sometimes, as with Grapes of Wrath, I fall in love with a book I didn’t even know I would like.

Reading Robert Jordan reminds me of the power of art to transport readers into other worlds, to completely erase the present in favor the emotional and intellectual experience depicted by the artwork. This artistic impact connects me with the events and characters depicted, it connects me with past writers, and it teaches me about history and culture. By walking in the shoes of the characters and experiencing their choices even when or perhaps especially when I disagree with them, I acquire empathy for others because I get to see why they do what they do. I respect their human strengths and failings. I learn to become a better person myself, which means I am better able to contribute to my own life, my family, my workplace, my community, and my nation.

So, given all the benefits of reading good fantasy literature, and despite the success of films series like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, why is fantasy still considered kind of cheesy? Why isn’t it taught alongside classics in college? Why might readers of fantasy be embarrassed to admit they really like the genre? Is there something wrong with it?


Works Cited

Carleton, Stacy. “Heavy Act with Heavy Hearts Relate: Finding Hope in Literature.” Oregon English Journal 32.1 (Spring 2010): 6-9. Print.

Jordan, Robert. Lord of Chaos. New York: TOR, 1994. Print.

Knefelcamp, Lee. “Kolb Learning Style Inventory.” Association of American Colleges and Universities Institute on General Education. Minneapolis, MN: 30 May – 4 June, 2008.

National Endowment for the Arts. Reading at Risk: A Survey of Literary Reading in America. Washington, DC: National Endowment for the Arts, 2004. Web. 26 Sept. 2009. < http://www.nea.gov/pub/readingatrisk.pdf>.

Stafford, William. “Ask Me.” Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, Drama, and Writing. 6th compact ed. Eds. X. J. Kennedy and Dana Gioia. New York: Pearson-Longman, 2010. 421. Print.