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rachelmanija Oct. 20th, 2004 02:13 pm)
rachelmanija Oct. 20th, 2004 02:13 pm)This genre is set on imaginary worlds which are often but not always based with varying degrees of vagueness on medieval or Renaissance Europe, and which is primarily rural or pastoral rather than urban. (I mentioned a few imaginary world urban fantasies in my last post, but if you read widely in the genre you’ll see how different they are from high fantasy, in tone as much as in setting.)
These books generally involve magic, war, quests, and magical beings and creatures. They tend to take place on a grand scale, involve world-changing events, and have a serious tone and elevated language— but not necessarily, and I’m going to recommend several that involve smaller events, focus more on adventure and character relationships than on grand quests, and have a more down-to-earth tone.
This is the genre most people think of when they think of fantasy, and it’s the one Lord of the Rings belongs in. Given how central and popular it is, be aware that more garbage appears in this subgenre than in any other. Also, most books in this genre are series, and some of them are unfinished series. Caveat emptor.
All the books I recommend here are in some sense revisionist, and reverse, parody, or question some of the standard genre tropes. I honestly can’t think of a single post-Tolkien work of high fantasy which I like which isn’t at least somewhat revisionist. This may say something about me, or it may say something about high fantasy and its writers.
Cut for extreme length:
Get started:
A Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula K. Le Guin. This is a touchstone book for the genre, and a must-read. Le Guin wondered what wizards were like before they became old and wise and grey-bearded, and so created the first of a long line of literary schools for young wizards. However, a book less like Harry Potter cannot be imagined. It’s serious in tone, stunningly well written in a deceptively simple style, often epic, occasionally whimsical, sometimes terrifying.
Magic in Earthsea is based on names: to know the true name of a thing or person is to have power over it. This is a brilliant metaphor for the power of words, and writing, and art. It reminds me of Georgia O’Keefe saying that God told her that if she could paint a mountain, she could have it. Le Guin’s tale of an arrogant young wizard and his strange quest—chased by and chasing a thing with no name— reads as fresh and new now as if it hadn’t had a thousand imitators.
There are sequels. The Tombs of Atuan is as good as Wizard; The Farthest Shore is not quite up to that standard. Tehanu and its sequels were written much later and represent a rethinking of the earlier novels; if the portrayal of women and women’s magic bothers you in those, you should definitely read the later ones.
Take a scenic detour:
The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle. This is also not a very modern book, and like Wizard, it has attracted many imitations, all of which fail utterly to even resemble the original, let alone match it.
"The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea."
Into this lovely fairy-tale beginning strays a butterfly who cannot speak on its own, but spouts quotes from Shakespeare, from modern pop songs, from somebody else’s dreams. And Mommy Fortuna and her unforgettable menagerie, Schmendrick the Magician, and dour Molly Grue. Their world is one in which myth and reality and cheap plastic imitations of both jostle for supremacy. People long for magic, even if it kills them, but can’t recognize a unicorn when she passes by.
The novel has the feel but not the schema of an allegory, and alternates scenes of breathtaking beauty with ones which are merely placeholders, although even those have some excellent lines. I tend to re-read certain scenes— the beginning, Mommy Fortuna, the transformation, the end— more than the whole book cover to cover. I have read the harpy scene so often I could almost recite it from memory.
Explore the byways:
Dragonsbane, by Barbara Hambly. Hambly is a prolific writer and sometimes an excellent one, and she’s written a number of my favorite books in this category. I’m recommending this one because it’s a stand-alone. (There are sequels, but they are both dreadful and unnecessary.)
Once the half-trained witch Jenny Waynest and the scholar John Aversin combined their forces to slay a dragon. The book begins a number of years later, when Jenny and John have had several children together and settled down. Jenny is torn between being a family woman and pursuing the solitude needed to perfect her magic, and John is frustrated that his work won’t allow him the leisure he needs for study. But matters could have continued like that indefinitely until a young man rode into town, with an urgent task for the only two people who had ever slain a dragon…
You can see already how Hambly is subtly subverting classic fantasy elements, but parody is not her main concern. Instead, she’s looking at questions about how much a person’s dreams are worth to them, how one longing may conflict with another, and what one might be willing to sacrifice to perfect one’s art. Jenny's teacher of magic told her that the key to magic is magic; but what exactly does that mean? It’s a moving and thoughtful novel, with a twisty plot and excellent characterization.
I also recommend Hambly’s Darwath trilogy, which begins with The Time of the Dark (you might want to skip the related but overly grim novel Icefalcon’s Quest); her Windrose series which begins with The Silent Tower; her gaslight scientific vampire novels which begin with Those who Hunt the Night; her Arabian fantasy Sisters of the Raven; and her charming early Hollywood adventure Bride of the Rat God. Her characterization is wonderful, her plots are odd and clever, and she has great sympathy for ordinary people who have impossible dreams, and know it.
Go down the main road:
A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin. A vast sprawling epic set in a complex medivalesque world where seasons last for years, full of intricate political maneuvering, reversals of fortune, and difficult journeys over exotic lands. It takes a number of standard genre elements, like dragons, noble knights, desert nomads, elves, and many more, and tweaks them in interesting ways. The plotting and characterization here are nothing short of brilliant. There is a huge cast of characters with an enormous number of plotlines, and every single one is compelling. For a great big series, there is surprisingly little padding—all those pages are needed because the story itself is so vast.
Be warned, however: this is an extremely dark and violent series, and an unfinished. The fourth book is due some time in 2005, and the author has estimated that there will be seven in all.
This is Martin’s only high fantasy series, but his other novels are all worth reading. I particularly recommend the riverboat vampire novel Fevre Dream, the rock’n’roll horror/fantasy The Armageddon Rag, and any of his collections of short stories, but especially A Song For Lya.
Tigana, by Guy Gavriel Kay. An extremely well-done historical fantasy, also concerned with true names. I am going to be lazy and link to a review I wrote:
http://greenmanreview.com/tigana.html
Go east, young man:
Fudoki, by Kij Johnson. A beautifully written fantasy set in Heian Japan, about a dying princess who writes a story about a cat who becomes a woman warrior. If you’re already thinking, “Or am I a butterfly dreaming that I’m a man?” you’re not far off. I’m going to lazily link to myself again:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rachelmanija/30509.html
Note: Lloyd Alexander, Patricia McKillip, Elizabeth Wein, Jane Yolen, and Meredith Ann Pierce will be discussed under YA fantasy, because I am ruling arbitrarily that each author only gets one listing. Tim Powers, Terry Pratchett, Richard Adams, William Browning Spencer, Gene Wolfe, The Winter’s Tale, Sean Stewart, and R. A. MacAvoy will be discussed under cross-over/contemporary alternate history/unclassifiable/other fantasies.
These books generally involve magic, war, quests, and magical beings and creatures. They tend to take place on a grand scale, involve world-changing events, and have a serious tone and elevated language— but not necessarily, and I’m going to recommend several that involve smaller events, focus more on adventure and character relationships than on grand quests, and have a more down-to-earth tone.
This is the genre most people think of when they think of fantasy, and it’s the one Lord of the Rings belongs in. Given how central and popular it is, be aware that more garbage appears in this subgenre than in any other. Also, most books in this genre are series, and some of them are unfinished series. Caveat emptor.
All the books I recommend here are in some sense revisionist, and reverse, parody, or question some of the standard genre tropes. I honestly can’t think of a single post-Tolkien work of high fantasy which I like which isn’t at least somewhat revisionist. This may say something about me, or it may say something about high fantasy and its writers.
Cut for extreme length:
Get started:
A Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula K. Le Guin. This is a touchstone book for the genre, and a must-read. Le Guin wondered what wizards were like before they became old and wise and grey-bearded, and so created the first of a long line of literary schools for young wizards. However, a book less like Harry Potter cannot be imagined. It’s serious in tone, stunningly well written in a deceptively simple style, often epic, occasionally whimsical, sometimes terrifying.
Magic in Earthsea is based on names: to know the true name of a thing or person is to have power over it. This is a brilliant metaphor for the power of words, and writing, and art. It reminds me of Georgia O’Keefe saying that God told her that if she could paint a mountain, she could have it. Le Guin’s tale of an arrogant young wizard and his strange quest—chased by and chasing a thing with no name— reads as fresh and new now as if it hadn’t had a thousand imitators.
There are sequels. The Tombs of Atuan is as good as Wizard; The Farthest Shore is not quite up to that standard. Tehanu and its sequels were written much later and represent a rethinking of the earlier novels; if the portrayal of women and women’s magic bothers you in those, you should definitely read the later ones.
Take a scenic detour:
The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle. This is also not a very modern book, and like Wizard, it has attracted many imitations, all of which fail utterly to even resemble the original, let alone match it.
"The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea."
Into this lovely fairy-tale beginning strays a butterfly who cannot speak on its own, but spouts quotes from Shakespeare, from modern pop songs, from somebody else’s dreams. And Mommy Fortuna and her unforgettable menagerie, Schmendrick the Magician, and dour Molly Grue. Their world is one in which myth and reality and cheap plastic imitations of both jostle for supremacy. People long for magic, even if it kills them, but can’t recognize a unicorn when she passes by.
The novel has the feel but not the schema of an allegory, and alternates scenes of breathtaking beauty with ones which are merely placeholders, although even those have some excellent lines. I tend to re-read certain scenes— the beginning, Mommy Fortuna, the transformation, the end— more than the whole book cover to cover. I have read the harpy scene so often I could almost recite it from memory.
Explore the byways:
Dragonsbane, by Barbara Hambly. Hambly is a prolific writer and sometimes an excellent one, and she’s written a number of my favorite books in this category. I’m recommending this one because it’s a stand-alone. (There are sequels, but they are both dreadful and unnecessary.)
Once the half-trained witch Jenny Waynest and the scholar John Aversin combined their forces to slay a dragon. The book begins a number of years later, when Jenny and John have had several children together and settled down. Jenny is torn between being a family woman and pursuing the solitude needed to perfect her magic, and John is frustrated that his work won’t allow him the leisure he needs for study. But matters could have continued like that indefinitely until a young man rode into town, with an urgent task for the only two people who had ever slain a dragon…
You can see already how Hambly is subtly subverting classic fantasy elements, but parody is not her main concern. Instead, she’s looking at questions about how much a person’s dreams are worth to them, how one longing may conflict with another, and what one might be willing to sacrifice to perfect one’s art. Jenny's teacher of magic told her that the key to magic is magic; but what exactly does that mean? It’s a moving and thoughtful novel, with a twisty plot and excellent characterization.
I also recommend Hambly’s Darwath trilogy, which begins with The Time of the Dark (you might want to skip the related but overly grim novel Icefalcon’s Quest); her Windrose series which begins with The Silent Tower; her gaslight scientific vampire novels which begin with Those who Hunt the Night; her Arabian fantasy Sisters of the Raven; and her charming early Hollywood adventure Bride of the Rat God. Her characterization is wonderful, her plots are odd and clever, and she has great sympathy for ordinary people who have impossible dreams, and know it.
Go down the main road:
A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin. A vast sprawling epic set in a complex medivalesque world where seasons last for years, full of intricate political maneuvering, reversals of fortune, and difficult journeys over exotic lands. It takes a number of standard genre elements, like dragons, noble knights, desert nomads, elves, and many more, and tweaks them in interesting ways. The plotting and characterization here are nothing short of brilliant. There is a huge cast of characters with an enormous number of plotlines, and every single one is compelling. For a great big series, there is surprisingly little padding—all those pages are needed because the story itself is so vast.
Be warned, however: this is an extremely dark and violent series, and an unfinished. The fourth book is due some time in 2005, and the author has estimated that there will be seven in all.
This is Martin’s only high fantasy series, but his other novels are all worth reading. I particularly recommend the riverboat vampire novel Fevre Dream, the rock’n’roll horror/fantasy The Armageddon Rag, and any of his collections of short stories, but especially A Song For Lya.
Tigana, by Guy Gavriel Kay. An extremely well-done historical fantasy, also concerned with true names. I am going to be lazy and link to a review I wrote:
http://greenmanreview.com/tigana.html
Go east, young man:
Fudoki, by Kij Johnson. A beautifully written fantasy set in Heian Japan, about a dying princess who writes a story about a cat who becomes a woman warrior. If you’re already thinking, “Or am I a butterfly dreaming that I’m a man?” you’re not far off. I’m going to lazily link to myself again:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rachelmanija/30509.html
Note: Lloyd Alexander, Patricia McKillip, Elizabeth Wein, Jane Yolen, and Meredith Ann Pierce will be discussed under YA fantasy, because I am ruling arbitrarily that each author only gets one listing. Tim Powers, Terry Pratchett, Richard Adams, William Browning Spencer, Gene Wolfe, The Winter’s Tale, Sean Stewart, and R. A. MacAvoy will be discussed under cross-over/contemporary alternate history/unclassifiable/other fantasies.