Saturday, January 20, 2007

Not yet dead

This is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago, and later got it published in the poetry section of www.theonering.com, a Tolkien fansite . It might still be lying somewhere in their archives. When I originally wrote it, I was suffering from the heroic feelings that one is afflicted with so very often in student life. Later, I depersonalized it by posting it in the context of the life of Frodo Baggins after he returned from Mordor.

I may be down,
but not yet dead

Beaten, ravaged, torn, sick,
Wounded I may be,
but not yet dead

Standing still on broken crutches,
Wanting to fall and be at rest,
Yet trying to walk
for I know
I may be down,
but not yet dead

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Magic !

Magic. What is magic? Demonology? Nature worship? Satanism? Imagination? A tribal dancing around a pole for the rain god to bring the heavens pouring down on his head? Chanting mantras for your physical and spiritual health? An alchemist trying to make the philosopher's stone? Is it natural or supernatural?

It would be a rather fascinating quest to explore the notion of magic and the role it has played and is still playing in the history of the human race; and many have taken this path. But my aim is a little different. I would prefer to explore the concept of magic in fictional space and the symbolism it represents. It may not always explicitly be called magic (e.g. May the Force be with you!), but we would include every such concept in our definition of magic. What I write may not be pertinent to the sword and sorcery genre, because I have read few books of this genre.

In epic fantasy(e.g. The lord of the rings, The wheel of time, Magician Apprentice), magic is usually an innate ability to be developed. If you don't have it you don't have it. There might be magical objects that can be wielded by anyone, but that only takes you so far. The idea usually is that it is an all-pervasive force that can be harnessed only by a special few. This gives us the impression that these few are somehow nearer to nature, or the universe and can communicate with it in some way to make it act according to their will. I personally think it's a little bit like expressionist art, where the artist bends reality to express a higher truth or a more intense emotion.

Here we encounter the idea of a relationship between magic and imagination. If you could do only a fixed task with a precise, fixed process then magic wouldn't be that interesting. The idea is usually that what you can do with magic is bounded by 1) your innate capacity for magic, and 2)your imagination. How well you can use magic within your capacity is completely dependent on your imagination. And indeed, if the hero of our tale is a magician, we often see him performing some feat in a completely unexpected way, because he could imagine the new, unconventional way. Of course, sometimes some writers take the more banal path of establishing the superiority of the hero in only the innate ability (can move bigger mountains than expected) and not in his magical creativity. But that is really equivalent to thoughtless manual labour. The imagination factor elevates magic to an art form, where your magical ability is the paintbrush and your environment is the canvas. The idea is particularly stressed in Raymond E. Feist's 'Magician Apprentice' where the magician Kulgan tries to explain this aspect of magic to his young apprentice again and again :
"Much of what I am trying to do is like trying to teach someone to play the lute. You can show them the fingering of the strings, but that knowledge alone will not make a great troubadour.It is the art, not the scholarship that troubles you."

Usually magic in fiction follows the above paradigm and is often associated with imagination and contrasted with logic,reason and science. Indeed, fantasy writers, and in particular British fantasy writers often write of an exodus of magic and magical creatures with the coming of the age of reason. The impression is usually that of losing a more magical, more beautiful old world to a more rational, cruder, but hopeful new world. For instance, the exodus of the elves in The Lord of the Rings. The reason for such an exodus are always given, and despite of being varied, they have a common resonance. We come across sentences like 'This is the age of man. It is time for us(magical creatures) to depart.', 'Man has little room in his life for magic now.', etc. The common theme is that of a world moving from a nature-centric point of view to an anthropocentric point of view. A transition from an age of gods to an age when man decided to become his own god. And this idea has been in the minds of British authors ever since the advent of the industrial and scientific revolutions. Taking examples from outside fantasy literature, 'Hard Times' by Charles Dickens talks of a utilitarian world devoid of imagination and wonder and humanity. A world ruled by cold and precise reason. Let's quote a part of one of the most unforgettable dialogues of this novel to make the situation clear :

'Bitzer,' said Mr. Gradgrind, broken down, and miserably submissive
to him, 'have you a heart?'
'The circulation, sir,' returned Bitzer, smiling at the oddity of
the question, 'couldn't be carried on without one. No man, sir,
acquainted with the facts established by Harvey relating to the
circulation of the blood, can doubt that I have a heart.'
'Is it accessible,' cried Mr. Gradgrind, 'to any compassionate
influence?'
'It is accessible to Reason, sir,' returned the excellent young
man. 'And to nothing else.'

Ergo, magic has been an important and a very strong metaphor for everything the old world stood for before the coming of the scientific revolution. Of course, the metaphor hasn't always been confined to the fictional space. Nature worshipers, agnostics and pagans bore the brunt of the medieval witch hunts and the subsequent ordeals. Nature worshiping and local magic was equated to satanism then. And in the modern era environmentalists were ridiculed, labeled as hippies or zealots or dinosaurs.

However,anyone reading the snippet of dialogue above would instantly label it as a rather hysteric reaction to the scientific revolution. Then, magic/imagination and science/reason were represented as being mutually exclusive. In contemporary literature, we see a picture of coexistence of sorts. In the Harry Potter series, the magical and technological worlds exist together, but the magical world is carefully hidden from the eyes of the mundane world. Another British-American writer, Neil Gaiman, has dramatized the conflict between magic/fantasy and science/reason in his novel 'American Gods'; a conflict that again demonstrates that the two worlds must find ways to coexist. Mutual exclusivity is no longer an option; if it ever was. Magic is still relevant in this age of science, and wild imagination doesn't fight cold reason anymore for supremacy. And I believe that magic would remain relevant for ever. For justification let me quote Titania, the queen of Faerie, from Neil Gaiman's wonderful graphic novel 'Books of Magic' :

"There are only two worlds ... your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the Fantasy. Worlds like this are worlds of the human imagination : their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. What is important is that they are there. These worlds provide an alternative. Provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream, and power. Provide refuge and pain.

They give your world meaning. They do not exist; and thus they are all that matters. Do you understand?"