kaigou: have some tea with your round cake (3 tea and cake)
[personal profile] kaigou
Over on Dribble of Ink, there's an essay that had me pondering the way we write fantasy, in the modern world. “Broader Fantasy Foundations Pt IV: The Tale of Genji, and Building the World of the Shining Prince”, in which Gladstone comments:
[Demonic possession and ghosts in Tale of Genji] are unexplained, but they’re not treated as explicitly supernatural within the narrative, since we’re talking about a time before Enlightenment nature-supernature distinctions arose. Ghosts and demons and gods are edge cases of Genji’s reality, but they’re not any less real than the people he encounters on a day to day basis.

[The] fantastical does not seem fantastical to locals. Genji’s reaction to a ghost, or to a demonic possession, is not the Lovecraftian narrator’s “THAT IS UNPOSSIBLE” followed by a prolonged paragraph on circles of firelight, mad dancing beyond the edges of reality, etc., so much as “HOLY SHIT, GHOST!” He—and the other people in his world—are afraid of ghosts because they are dangerous and terrifying, not because they represent a hole in a world system that does not incorporate them.
I didn't even need to add that emphasis; Gladstone did it already for me.

In a sidebar, Gladstone also notes:
Notably, the reaction to a hole in one’s world system varies widely even within the modern age. Folks who just live in the modern world system tend to have the Lovecraft reaction to the holes they discover; scientists, though—and philosophers—respond, or should respond, by examining the edges of the hole and trying to peer through. I can think of two great examples of this in modern fantasy: in Elizabeth Bear’s Eternal Sky novels, the wizards of Tsarepeth are presented as scientists and scholars with a near-modern understanding of the spread of disease. When they discover a demon plague that spreads through miasma, they’re initially flummoxed—since they’ve long known miasma theory to be false. Facts force them to revise their theory, in proper fashion. The Myth of the Man-Mother in Pat Rothfuss’s The Wise Man’s Fear is another example, played for humor—hyper-rational Kvothe fails to convince a friend of his that men have any role in the conception of children, since his arguments all devolve to an appeal to authority. The best part about this: it’s entirely possible that pregnancy just works differently in the Four Corners universe—or works differently among different peoples there.
A day or so later, Katherine Addison (Sarah Monette) wrote The Emperor and the Scullery Boy: Quests and Coming-of-Age Stories, in which she remarked that
...there are female protagonists in fantasy who quest. Mary Brown’s The Unlikely Ones, to pick a random example, is as straightforward a plot coupon fantasy quest as you can ask for (and it still ends in marriage). But they’re swimming valiantly against an undertow, which is the great preponderance of young men who come of age in fantasy by questing. I’m thinking particularly of the trope of the Scullery Boy Who Would Be King, and I can reel off examples by the cartload, from Lloyd Alexander’s Taran to Robert Jordan’s Rand Al’Thor. (Scullery Girls Who Would Be Queen are so rare as to be nearly nonexistent.) Fairy tales, too, are full of these young men, scullery boys or woodcutters’ youngest sons or vagrants, and there’s even a version of the motif in The Lord of the Rings: although Aragorn is not a child, his path through the trilogy is very distinctly from undervalued outsider to King of Gondor. All of them are the protagonists of bildungsromans, of quests, and the pattern they trace inexorably has shaped and continues to shape the way we think about fantasy as a genre and what we think it can do.

I don’t want to argue against bildungsromans in fantasy—far from it. I don’t want to argue against quests, or even against scullery boys. But I want to argue for awareness of the patterns that we have inherited—the grooves in the record of the genre, if you don’t mind a pun—and for awareness that patterns are all that they are. There’s no reason that scullery boys have to turn out to be kings. There’s no reason that women’s bildungsromans have to end in marriage. There’s no reason that fantasy novels have to be quests. It’s just the pattern, and it’s always easier to follow the pattern than to disrupt it.
Both essays are (obviously) worth reading, but that single line -- "Scullery Girls Who Would Be Queen are so rare as to be nearly nonexistent" -- started me thinking. There must be at least one out there, somewhere. Isn't there?

Hello? Hello? Don't tell me those are crickets I'm hearing.

Date: 3 Apr 2014 01:42 pm (UTC)
ticktocktober: (Default)
From: [personal profile] ticktocktober
I immediately thought of Lessa from the Dragonriders of Pern, though it's been years since I've read it. Granted, she went from nobility to vengeful sleeper-agent scullery maid to weyrwoman, but as a scullery girl she definitely had aspirations of removing the noble that had killed her family and taking her rightful place again.

Date: 3 Apr 2014 02:26 pm (UTC)
ext_141054: (Default)
From: [identity profile] christeos-pir.livejournal.com
"Scullery Girls Who Would Be Queen are so rare as to be nearly nonexistent"

The issue is complicated by the fact that in many stories, 'Becoming Queen' does mean 'Getting Married and That's The End of It.'

At any rate, the counterexamples I can think of at 9:00 with no caffeine--that is, stories where the female protagonist goes from Nobody to Somebody, or at least bildungsroman where she goes from immature to being (on the road to) mature adult--are generally from SciFi, rather than the traditional Western "fairy tale."

(Unfortunately Google search on "Princess In Disguise" just turns up a story called "Princess in Disguise" and some articles claiming Freddie Mercury once snuck Princess Diana into a gay bar. There are, however, some interesting listings for "The Female Bildungsroman" including this one: http://www.ashgate.com/isbn/9780754660279)

Date: 3 Apr 2014 08:17 pm (UTC)
whatistigerbalm: (Default)
From: [personal profile] whatistigerbalm
I want to recommend Neva Nevičica which is obligatory reading for kids back home, but I only know of one English translation which is old and disappointing. I'll keep looking...

Date: 4 Apr 2014 03:59 pm (UTC)
whatistigerbalm: (Default)
From: [personal profile] whatistigerbalm
Apologies, I leafed through the book and she refuses the chance to climb up the social ladder to court entourage level (and possibly beyond) in favour of setting up her own household with the guy the princess has her eye on; the princess proceeds to send armies to kill them both, but Neva turns out to be the Sun's godmother so the Sun boils the invading forces alive in their armour. \o/

I think I mistook Mažuranić's heroines (which are badass but do not become queens, apart from Rutvica who fights evil forces away helped by her brother) for those of Zagorka which are less folk-based fantasy and more historical. Will recheck and get back to you on this.

Date: 3 Apr 2014 08:45 pm (UTC)
hokuton_punch: (monster eva not a lady greenonionicons)
From: [personal profile] hokuton_punch
Well, not to particularly applaud Robert Jordan for anything, but besides the traditional Rand, Perrin, and Mat all achieving rank and etc., Egwene goes from innkeeper's daughter to Amyrlin Seat. (There might be other examples in the series but I think most of them involve marriages, like Nynaeve.)

Tamora Pierce probably has at least a couple of these? I don't know that Alanna would count, but Daine probably ought to; I haven't read her other works so I'm not sure about the protagonists there.