[j. d. worthington]

Well, I'll take a (short) go at this one tonight -- and hope to get into it more this weekend....

On the whole, I tend to agree with a lot of what you've said here, just as I agree with a great deal of what Tolkien says in "On Fairy-Stories" (one of my favorite essays on fantasy, and certainly one to mull over and read many times). What I would add here is that -- like sf in the 1960s -- fantasy seems to be going through something that more "mainstream" literature went through in the 10's through the 30's, and the mystery/detective tale went through in the 20's through the 1950s (roughly)... the impact of so many disillusionments about long-existing views due to the sciences and what we've learned about our past and our deeper psychological underpinnings, and how that colors what a writer's perception of human motivations are.

In some ways, this is like the phase so many adolescents go through as they leave behind the "superoptimism" (if you will) of childhood and early youth, and have not yet reestablished a new equilibrium in adulthood. It may simply be a part of fantasy "growing up" in some ways; though I will add that, in my own view, if this is the case, it's because a lot of the 20th century was spent in forgetting our roots, which were often extremely dark and bleak -- look at Beowulf, for example, or the Norse myths in general, to take just one small portion -- and have tended to "Disneyfy" fantasy in too many media. (Certainly few fantasy readers seem to have any idea of the breadth or depth of the field and its history.)

I would also say, however, that there's a good deal of truth to the comment about bright deeds and a dark world; though I think sometimes -- when done well -- the darker aspects of fantasy that are most effective are those which see that darkness as something that isn't necessary or "natural"; something which we can change if we have the will, and mourns (rather than bemoans) the fact that we so seldom do. (I think a lot of Ellison here, whose work has always struck me as what I call "angry compassion" -- the awareness that we have it in us to reach for the stars in every way, but so often betray our own humanity not because it is inevitable, but because we give up too easily; and he is constantly urging us, as he says in "Delusion for a Dragon-Slayer" to be able to live our dreams, our greatest dreams, because we've proven ourselves worthy of them.) In other words -- a form of cautionary tale, and one that urges us to be our best while fully recognizing how damnably difficult this can often be.

And on this, you're absolutely right: optimism of that sort is much, much harder than cynicism or pessimism... but worth the effort; and this is something that, it seems to me, is too often forgotten. One of the few fantasy writers I can think of from my own reading who still maintains that view seems to be Michael Moorcock, though his work, too, has become darker over the years; nonetheless, he still seems to express the view that it's not because we're doomed to such an ill world, but that we give in too easily and accept the lesser when the greater may be within our reach... if we are truly willing to struggle to create such.