Magic as Metaphor

It’s a strange week, but I made it through okay. Things are expected to get cold this weekend, so we have that to look forward to. Maybe we’ll get snow? I got one of the Extended Editions from the library; maybe I can convince someone here to watch it with me?

I just finished the Poetic Edda! Well, a volume of it, anyhow. It’s a bit different. I’ve picked up the Chef’s Table miniseries about pizza on Netflix–though I may be giving up Netflix and Hulu for Lent. I started playing the remastered version of Assassin’s Creed II on PS4.

Next Friday is WAITANGI DAY!!!!!

Magic as Metaphor

A while back, I came across someone’s video essay about The Dragon Prince (it might have been this one?) asserting that the show doesn’t understand magic because magic, at its core, is a subversive way for marginalized peoples to gain power not approved of by the authorities. Magic users are the rebels, the victims of witch trials, using magic to challenge the status quo and obtain agency denied to them by The System.

And, um.

Alright, I will admit that it’s been ages since I’ve seen that video, and so this is not meant to be a refutation of it. But I see this idea come up sometimes, in which a video maker or essayist insists that a certain fantastical or science-fiction element has to mean a particular thing or another.

We can criticize the worldbuilding and magic system of The Dragon Prince, sure. We can definitely argue about how the themes they’re going for, especially with dark magic, don’t really all add up. But I am very much not thrilled with the idea that magic, or any fantasy element has to represent some facet of the real world. It absolutely doesn’t. If it’s a fantasy world, and magic is a part of it, it’s fine to just have magic be an aspect of that world without commentary. There are plenty of great works of fantasy in which magic isn’t supposed to be read as a subversive sort of power–in the Discworld, it’s often used as a stand-in for nuclear power. In Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, it’s an indicator of one’s spirituality, or warping of it. In the Bartimaeus books by Jonathan Stroud, magic is the power the authorities have to oppress people with. In the Obsidian Trilogy, there are two types of magic: one used by the ruling class, and one that’s considered heretical (and both turn out to be necessary).

Magic is just a thing in fantasy stories. Insisting that there’s one way or another to apply it to the narrative is just silly. It reminds me of a nutty religious article I read one time that insisted that while fantasy can have magic, if the protagonist partakes in it (as opposed to a side character), then the book is immoral and Christians should avoid it. Never mind that overall, magic in most fantasy is nothing like real-world occult practices, which is what the Christian would have problems with.

It also brings to mind other fantastical elements that people get really worked up about, insisting it must be this or that way. I remember an article about the Moffat Dracula that was a bit hysterical about the idea that Moffat claimed that vampires don’t have to be sexualized. “Vampires are always about sex!” claimed the writer. Well, okay, but that doesn’t mean that this particular work of fiction needs to deal with them like that. Vampires are fictional. You’re allowed to do whatever you want with them when you’re writing a story. If Moffat wants to use vampires to talk about something else, he can jolly well do that.

[Mind you, that series sounded pretty terrible to me after it came out, and I have no inclination to watch it.]

I don’t see this as often with dragons, but I know that dragons have historically been used as a symbol of greed. And yet clearly–it doesn’t have to be that. We have plenty of dragons in fantasy fiction that do things other than represent greed or greedy individuals. That’s just how it works! People apply dragons whichever way they want, and it can make amazing stories. Because applying dragons tends to help any story become more awesome.

It’s fantasy! Go nuts! Do what you want! That’s how it works!

I just think it’s silly to pretend otherwise; that magic must be applied a certain way into the narrative, or else the work is suspect. No it doesn’t. Stop saying that.

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