Bloodchild

I thought the story “Bloodchild” had some interesting and symbolic aspects to it. While at first it seems like just anther fantasy short story, after continuing the reader can see that many parts of the story can be taken in different ways.

The story is set in some fantasy kingdom where humans are enslaved to a bug-like people who inject their young (in egg-form) to live inside of the human until they eventually eat their way out to become independent beings. The human who serves this purpose is something like an indentured servant to the bug, and since it takes many years for the babies to reach their maturity inside the body, the master and servant often form a close bond.

This story focuses on a young boy who has been chosen by one of the bugs (who is also a friend of his family) to incubate the eggs. He is given second thoughts on how eager he is to fulfill his destiny when a birthing gone wrong appears before his eyes; another bug’s servant who didn’t have the babies removed in time rushes to the boys house where another bug has to cut them out and set them on a dead animal carcass. The story ends with the boy accepting his fate in order to save his siblings from taking his place as host.

One of the most obvious parallels this story presents is the incubation of eggs to the process of being in labor. Both are excruciating for the “hosts”, and the servant in the story is even given a form of painkiller to ease the process along. Also, the act of cutting the babies from the host’s stomach relates closely to the practice of a c-section. While human children are often not so parasitic, the complications and perils are still an issue in modern births.

Another in the story is indentured servitude/slavery. While in the story it is noted that some of the humans consider being chosen to be a great honor, it’s still apparent that they would have to go through with the process whether or not they approved. In the story, humans are the slaves rather than the masters, and we are under the control of beings who are stronger and more advanced than ourselves.

While I thought the story was horrifically graphic at times, I thought it was well-written and was an interesting concept to explore. It seemed like a plot that has often been explored in sci-fi novels and movies, but not been elaborated on in fantasy. I thought that that in itself was an interesting kind of twist to the genre.

Ender's Game

“Ender’s Game” by Orson Scott Card is one of my favorite sci-fi books. It’s much more than a basic space story though; the novel’s main plot is almost entirely character driven, making it sound like the story could take place anytime (not just in the future on a space training station). Card’s characters are very strong and well-developed, and even though they sometimes form into clichéd archetypes, the reader still has a strong sense of how the character would react in situations or how they would interact with the others. And since most of the main characters in the novel are under the age of 15 (many of them still elementary school aged), it makes for an interesting read.

The book’s protagonist, (Andrew) “Ender”, is recruited to a training program to defeat an alien species called the “buggers” (formally, called the Formics). He is incredibly intelligent and calculating, and is only six at the novel’s opening. He is sought out because his parents were both brilliant scientists, and his older siblings Peter and Valentine were both unsuitable for the program (though being just as or more intelligent as Ender, they were deemed too violent and too gentle, respectively).

Ender is sent into space to begin his training, where upon arrival the commander of the training program Graff makes sure all the students know that Ender is the most intelligent amongst them. This singles Ender out and makes him have to stand up for himself against the more ambitious students. Over the years, Ender participates in multiple training games with a team that he leads, and is promoted frequently through the ranks. Meanwhile on Earth, Valentine and Peter begin writing essays under pseudonyms that influence the world’s leaders, the eventual goal being Peter’s rise to power.

Ender is eventually brought into a final simulation, this time on a computer. With multiple members of military command watching, he beats a simulation in which pilots face off against Formic fighters. Ender defeats the Formics and kills their “Queens”, only to find at the end that the simulation was real and that he was responsible for needless military deaths as well as genocides. Ender is not allowed to return home because of his skill level, and wanders around space looking for a place to rebuild the Formic race (there was one Queen left).

I think that part of “Ender’s Game” I find most interesting is the fact that the characters are so young. They think, talk and act like much, much older characters and I often found myself forgetting they were in the 1-3 grade range. The story is brutal and so are they; society made them old and jaded years before ever having to fire a gun. The whole novel is about different types of manipulation and control, and it’s interesting to see how characters respond to or fight that kind of domination.

Thud!

“Thud!” by Terry Pratchett is one of my favorite novels in his expansive ‘Discworld’ series. It follows the head of the city Watch (like this universe’s police force) Samuel Vimes as he embarks on his first duty as ambassador to another country.

“Thud!” is a mixture of fantasy, science fiction and detective story as Vimes unravels a conspiracy between the warring races of Dwarves and Trolls, discovering secrets about both as the story continues.

This is one of Pratchett’s newer novels (he is very prolific, with a new book out ever year or two), and by this point it’s very evident that he knows his characters very well. Of his dozens of books, Vimes has made only a handful of appearances as a leading character but each book reveals new aspects of his personality. In “Thud!”, he is taking on a new role as a nobleman after marrying a noblewoman, and has yet to strike harmony between this and his position of Watch Commander. When the plot takes a turn for the worst during his diplomatic duties, Vimes needs to realize he can use both aspects of his new life and set things right in ways he couldn’t before.

One of my favorite things about the Discworld novels is their very casual form of continuity. “Thud!” is enjoyable on it’s own, but read as part of the 30+ book series, you really understand the characters and the existing backstory and can appreciate the in-jokes and dry wit of Pratchett. I’ve only read a few of the books, but it’s very clear that they interlock in ways that are very enjoyable and rewarding as a “loyal” reader.

Pratchett has a knack for creating very strong, interesting character that can hold the reader’s attention for multiple books. He writes books focused on certain groups of recurring characters, like witches, the Watch, or the city’s mailroom. It’s very convenient for the reader because if they like a certain set of characters more than others, they can seek out those novels without disrupting their understanding of what’s going on.

Discworld has grown to become a massive franchise (at least in the UK), sporting the impressive book series, a board game, two animated movies, and three live-action mini-series. Terry Pratchett, in my opinion, is comparable to a modern-day Tolkien in terms of world-building stories. If you are familiar with his work, then the amount of time Pratchett has invested in the characters, the cities, countries, customs and pantheon is remarkable. It is faintly reminiscent of the way Tolkien built up the different characters and their settings in any of his novels, and I think that Pratchett comes closest to capturing the same expansive fantasy feel.

Coraline

“Coraline” by Neil Gaiman is one of the darkest children’s books I’ve ever read (trumped slightly by Gaiman’s “The Graveyard Book”). The novel pulls from a lot of different sources, resulting in a children’s story that reads more like an uncut Grimm fairytale.

A lot of Gaiman’s children’s fiction kind of makes you do a literary double take; at first it seems pretty normal until he throws in that extra sentence (or some sort of grisly murder) that makes you stop for a second to realize what’s going on. Example: Coraline lives in an old house, with a door to another world. Cute! Enchanting! …And in the other world lives a bedlam that collects the souls of dead children after she’s cut out their eyes and trapped them in the walls.

He layers oddity upon oddity until you get the most quietly gruesome, twisted stories imaginable. Of course, this really just makes me love his stories. I might not have been the kid at 8 or 10 who would’ve enjoyed his children’s books, but I really wish I’d been. In his talk at MIT, he mentioned that kids often want the most ultimate kinds of justice, that they want the most satisfying ends, and that they can definitely handle the rougher stories. I often told my friends and family that he was the worst children’s author in the world, but I have to say, he really makes a point by saying that you don’t need to stuff children’s literature full of unicorns and candy to be suitable. Throughout history, children’s stories have been insanely grizzly; Grimm, Anderson and Perrault were no Dr. Seusses. If you told your kid the original Little Red Riding Hood, there’s no way he/she would stray off the path or stay out after dark. Because they’d be eaten. And that’s all. No woodsmen to save them in the original story; in some versions, the kid doesn’t even get to grandma’s house at all. She talks to a strange wolf, then gets eaten.

So in many ways, Neil Gaiman is just returning to cautionary storytelling. Coraline is fussy, impatient and ungrateful, and the story leads her to discover how to be thankful for the life she’s been given. Gaiman is pretty tame by historical standards, since his protagonists (nearly) always end up happy or sometimes with a better life than they started with. The journey can sometimes be rough and incredibly dark, but the aspect of danger and adventure is often a driving force in a story trying to teach a lesson.

The Hobbit

“The Hobbit” is one of the defining novels in the fantasy genre, and has held up for decades against more contemporary works (including three “sequels”). It combines all the classic characteristics of the hero’s journey with Tolkien’s trademark adventurous themes and world-building. “The Hobbit” began some of the most iconic characters and stories in literature, and has become a staple in most libraries and summer reading lists.

Surprisingly, Bilbo, the hero of the story, is as unlikely as they come. He is from a small town, has no real ambition, no yearning for adventure, and is even fairly advanced in years (even for a hobbit). However, when opportunity comes knocking on his door in a wizard’s hat, he is (forcefully) convinced to take hold of his destiny and be a driving force in it.

While this might be an familiar scene for many fantasy readers, the particulars of the situation isn’t in the slightest. Bilbo is in every way the underdog, and really doesn’t mind being so. However, Tolkien leads him through the same challenges and mental roadblocks that the standard hero often is lead through, and the outcome remains basically the same for both characters. Through his various experiences on his journey, Bilbo is changed. Whether or not he enjoys the fact, he is no longer ordinary by any means, and maybe never was to begin with.

Tolkien shows that no one can be ordinary; we all have that potential within us, and whenever it is released it will change us. We cannot be truly content until we have tapped into the hero within ourselves, whether that is as grandiose as a fantasy-fueled treasure hunt or just a quiet journey through a mainly mundane life. We all want to know ourselves, and the hero’s journey is the prime example of how we can better get to know ourselves as said “hero”.

Bilbo’s journey tests him in many ways: his wit, his will and his overall sense of self. He wins some, loses others, but can only come through as a conqueror of his own destiny. This is because no matter the outcome, he took control. He turned a tumultuous situation into a hero’s journey, and while it might not have sprouted of his own free will, it certainly ended that way. Bilbo is the primary example of an unlikely hero twisting destiny through a journey, and is the mainstay for fantasy novels wanting to explore the twists of the hero’s journey.

A Game of Thrones

R.R. Martin’s “Game of Thrones” is a complex fantasy (part of his lengthy “A Song of Ice and Fire” series) following in the footsteps of many classic works. And although it might appear at the surface to be merely a homage to past novels, “Game of Thrones” twists the genre entirely, combining fantasy elements with plot devices reminiscent of a good detective novel. There’s twists and turns, false leads and slow-revealing clues; all of which add a new layer of depth to which might have been considered a standard fantasy novel.

The characters are another aspect which make this novel more modern and interesting. Ned Stark, who could be considered the lead, is the basic hero-type , but without the willingness to become the hero. He realizes the futility of a life in service to honor (in this case, the king), and instead chooses in many cases to do what he considers is best for his immediate family and his subjects. In a world coming out of a great war for the crown, Ned just wants the peace he fought for to be maintained. Amidst his strange setting, Ned is ultimately a realist and prizes his family’s well-being above any thought of personal glory.

Dany is also an interesting and unlikely hero. Once a princess, she and her brother were cast away from the throne as infants and sent into exile. They now live on the outskirts of “civilization”, and she is wed to the leader of a war-like band of nomads. Although this might seem like a typical role in fantasy novels, Dany is neither the shy, modest princess nor the warrior queen seen in many novels. When we are first introduced to her, she is nothing more than an emotionally and physically abused child who bends to her brother’s will to survive. However, she eventually breaks free of his control and comes into her own power as she learns how to use her intelligence to change her situation.

“Game of Thrones” has the potential to redefine the modern fantasy epic through it’s imaginative characters, captivating plot and epic length. It’s nod to more traditional works help to win over readers immediately, and the new twists it incorporates keep them intrigued for thousands and thousands of pages.

This novel shows that there are a lot of different ways fantasy can be presented, and that not every part of it has to be far-fetched. While the setting and many of the scenarios are fantastical, Martin’s characters stay very real and grounded. Even at 400 pages into the book, I was unsure of which characters I should be cheering for; they all had good qualities and dark secrets, and many of them had circumstances which might explain their behavior. I think that Martin’s characters have the kind of personalities which are often neglected in literature in general; there’s really no boring characters or stories going on.

Interview with the Vampire

Of the many “monsters” literature has created through the centuries, vampires have undergone the most dramatic transformation of them all. Vampires begun as misshaped, animal-like creatures (even in their humanoid form), and have now been elevated to a state of immortal, physical perfection. Somewhere along the years, vampires have turned from the somewhat tragic antagonists to the downright heroes of the story. This switch perhaps started in the early 80’s with Anne Rice’s debut vampire novel Interview with the Vampire.

Although far from the sparkling god among men we’ve seen in recent years, Rice’s protagonist is more of a haunted individual than an outright monster (at least, from the beginning of the story). Louis (the lead), and the numerous other vampires in the story are often described as being physically beautiful, intelligent and reserved. From the beginning, Rice created an alternative to the vampire who lurks in solitary confinement atop a castle in a corner of Europe. In contrast, Louis and his companions embrace their lives (eventually). They seek out companions, entertainment and fulfillment. This change in overall attitude has shaped the modern vampiric character.

With the embrace of their supernatural nature, Rice opens up the story to what the effects of immortality can be. She depicted vampires as being human in their convictions and in their quest for meaning, but she certainly played up the supernatural and monstrous tendencies as well. For every human feeling or twinge of emotion, there were also macabre killings and the burden of immortality weighing heavy over their heads. By mixing emotions and character traits from classic stories, Rice created a hybrid, a more dimensional character capable of carrying a story.

A prime example of this “hybrid” is the near-angelic Claudia. A child vampire, Claudia has all the intelligence of an educated adult combined with the animal instinct of the beast she has become. She is a calculated killer contained in a child’s body, doomed to wander eternity in a frozen physical form. However, until the last bit of “life” leaves her, she has an understanding of herself and lacks remorse. Claudia is the perfect example of the new vampire: educated and physically perfect, with vampiric instincts and a bad temper.

After Rice’s vampire came a large quantity of vampires who could be considered a romantic lead. Vampire lore began to bend and shift to make way for the new adjustments to the species, resulting in creatures not so much monsters as instead superbeings. The need for blood is often still an integral part of the role, but there are now loopholes created in an effort to make the readership more sympathetic. The modern vampire is now far from being a creature of darkness used as a cautionary tale.