“I don’t want to analyze a story. I don’t want to find hidden meaning. I just want to escape from the real world for a bit.”
I’m guessing you’ve either heard some variation of those words or said them yourself. Books are for “escaping.” Stories are for entertainment value. A page-turner is all we want – something that will help us to “veg out,” to leave the day behind.
I can’t begrudge someone entertainment. I like entertainment. I watch a few TV shows just for the mindlessness, and I watch others because they make me think. But a line often gets crossed in this type of thinking, which goes something like this: “It’s silly to think J.K. Rowling wrote the whole Harry Potter series on an alchemical framework, utilizing symbols and themes that are meant to transform one’s vision. She was just writing fun, entertaining books.”
Authors: Mindless Entertainers, or Careful Artists?
Believe it or not, I still come across a lot of people who take exactly that approach to the Harry Potter stories. Despite what seems to me to be very careful, deliberate artistry on the part of J.K. Rowling in selecting her symbols and magical parameters (literary alchemy), some still scoff at the idea, calling it gnostic secret-knowledge-finding, or looking for a “Da Vinci Code.”
The reason I think this crosses a line is that the one who quickly dismisses, out-of-hand, the very possibility that Rowling crafted a very deliberate alchemical drama, citing that she’s just writing exciting books for the profit and fun of it all, is insulting the craft of writing. Why is it the default assumption that authors don’t have imaginative keys to their work? Why is the author, by default, put in the role of mindless entertainer, instead of careful artist?
Escape to More Permanent Things
The real “gnosticism” in this discussion is not the artist who builds a story on an imaginative key, but one who thinks that books provide some “escape” from the “real world,” and that this escape is a good thing. Tolkien wrote,
Why should a man be scorned, if, finding himself in a prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if, when he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?
For Tolkien, the pejorative use of “escapism” was married to the false belief that current trends define Real Life – the electric street lamp, for example, is nowhere near as permanent as Lightning. But most of us know more about the lamp, because it’s more relevant to our daily existence. The fairy-tale takes us to the lightning, the “more permanent thing.”
This also answers the person who thinks that escape is simply a mindless, page-turning getaway, a vacation in your own armchair. The Escape is most certainly a delight, a joy, and a “break” from the daily mundane activities of life, as well as the more prison-like aspects of our existence. But it is an Escape that puts us in contact with themes and symbols and a cohesive, magical world from which we should not return unchanged for the better.
And if this is what Escape is, why would the careful artist not deliberately choose her imaginative key? Despite my overall dislike for the first Twilight novel, I do not have a default position that Meyer can’t possibly have chosen to weave imaginative threads through her work which are resonating with the genuinely human desire to escape to something “more permanent.” Whether or not she’s done it well is a different question; dismissing, out-of-hand, the possibility, or even probability, that she attempted it and that it is working on some level with readers, is not a wise starting point.
Tolkien’s true Escape is important to Rowling’s work, which can be characterized very much as Tolkien’s – “about death.” Tolkien noted that the true escapist, or the “fugitive spirit,” will be drawn by the “oldest and deepest desire, the Great Escape: the Escape from Death.” This “Escape from Death” is at the heart of Rowling’s use of literary alchemy. Without the imaginative key of literary alchemy, it’s highly likely Rowling’s fiction would not have been as powerful.
For brilliant analysis on Tolkien’s “On Fairy-Stories” and its relationship to Harry Potter, stay tuned for Amy H. Sturgis’s forthcoming essay, “When Harry Met Faerie,” in Hog’s Head Conversations (Zossima Press, Spring 2009).
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While I agree many types of fiction are just escapism, Rowling certainly did not intend the work to be so. Her work not only includes all that Travis says, but also her personal morals, politics, and philosophy of education.
She also has used her works as a forum for speaking about said beliefs.
The works can be read for entertainment value only, but obviously there’s more there. Otherwise, what the heck are we doing here?
Otherwise, what the heck are we doing here?
With apologies to Neil Postman for stealing his phrase: “Amusing ourselves to death!”
I don’t know if the term is rescuable at this point, but I’m hoping to rescue the term “Escape” both from its pejorative sense (“that’s just escapism”) and the sense that is more often applied to it, that of “mindless escape.”
I don’t see why both approaches – escapism and the search for deeper meaning – can’t be sustained by the same work. People take from books what they need.
I disagree, although not strongly enough to argue it, that alchemical symbolism (the nigredo, albedo, rubedo thing) is the only or best “key” to understanding the deeper meaning of the HP books. That there are deeper meanings I do not dispute, but as far as the alchemy goes, well, I think that JKR sometimes takes on arcane language and symbols to imbue her universe with a patina of mystery and significance. It’s sort of like the binding on the super-duper version of Beedle: makes you think that what you’re holding is ancient and contains heavy truths. But what’s important about the book is not the cover.
If I were to use that word alchemy to describe the process in the HP books, it would be strictly in the metaphorical sense: JKR uses literary alchemy to transform a tale about a boy wizard, his allies and his evil enemy into the universal story of how love is the only thing that can overcome death. Or to use Tolkien’s (and your words), Escape from Death.
Your attempt, Travis, to change the way that word escapism is understood is an admirable one. It brings a smile of appreciation to my face because I too like turning things inside out. I like the idea of “escaping” away from the humdrum routine of everyday life into meaning, and significance, and truth. But you can turn that one more time.
The everyday reality that people try to get away from is not just mundane, it can be a constant reminder of the meaninglessness of life. It’s hard to see the significance or importance or value of everyday life. People who surround us are not heroes, not beautiful or powerful, but ordinary. Evil doesn’t wear a frightening mask: it shows itself in a thousand unkindnesses and selfish acts.
In that reality, death has no meaning except as the end of things, often a miserable and senseless end, like the Sacking of Severus Snape, but worse. Life ticks away in hospital beds and hospital gowns with tubes running in and out of bodies. That is what awaits many of us. The need to escape from that to a brighter world, where reality is simpler, people are more clearly defined, where heroes and villains and friends and foes are easier to see, where actions have direct and intended consequences – to me all that is in fact a search for meaning.
You could argue that that kind of search for meaning is futile, because there is no reconciliation of humdrum reality and greater meaning, there is no link between the world of fiction and reality. But I’m not sure that even the deepest interpretation of the most profound work of fiction – say, for example, Dostoevsky’s The Grand Inquisitor scene – allows us to make that link. It gives us the opportunity to reflect upon our existence, and what it all means. It allows us to feel deeply, and to feel connected to a greater reality. But actual transformation happening through fiction?
I don’t know.
Hey, first time poster here
So I just finished Tolkien’s “On Fairy-Stories” for the first time (I can’t believe I hadn’t read it until now), and I completely 100% agree with his views on escapism.
Throughout my entire life, the books that really draw me in are the books where I feel like I am being pulled from this world into the world created by the author. It feels like, for a short time, that I am escaping the boring day to day activities and experiencing something amazing and incredible. Now luckily I grew up with an amazing family who supported my near obsessive love of Tolkien and Lewis, but when I talked to friends about this, some took it as a bad thing. They learned (mostly in school it seemed) that the idea of escapism was inherently bad.
I never really had a solid argument for my side of the story until I finally read “On Fairy-Stories”. Yes, escapism can be used in a bad way to just check out from the world in general, to such an extent that they stop living their lives (although I have never really seen a case of this before), but that isn’t the intent of the authors. I love Tolkien’s analogy of escapism as not, the “Flight of the Deserter”, but the “Escape of the Prisoner”. When I read a fantasy novel that really sucks me in it energizes me. After I leave that secondary-world created by the author, I feel like I have been given a second wind because I know that the fantastic does exist, maybe not in the form of faeries and dragons, but the natural wonders that surround us every day.
Graham Badger,
User of escapism since 1994
Travis, you’re making me want to get out my copy of Lewis’ “An Experiment in Criticism” and see what result I get when I apply his reader-reaction standards to Twilight. *g* (I disliked the book, mostly; to me it does seem like blind escapism rather than the good kind of Escape, but that doesn’t mean it’s not working at that level for some readers.)
Red Rocker wrote: ” I don’t see why both approaches – escapism and the search for deeper meaning – can’t be sustained by the same work. People take from books what they need”.
Red, I agree with most of what you stated here except for your expression that the mundane things we do is a reflection of the “meaningless of life”.
I think as we look deeper into the work of JKR in Harry Potter, Rowling takes the simple things in our Muggle world and uses her writing in such a way along with the “magic” of story and imagination to show how we can change OUR world from being “mundane” to the ways of making a difference in the lives of the oppressed “others”(house elves, giants, the Longbottom’s, Luna’s) that we meet and know in our real world.
This is hardly “escapism” in the total sense, but an idea that JKR gives us through her work in Harry Potter as a cause to “action” against the ills such as, prejudice, intolerance and racism in our sphere of influence right where we live today.
This is a key point where Ted Hamilton in the Cornel Daily Sun article misses the purpose and meaning of what JKR was writing in giving the world Harry Potter.
It’s more than just a piece of fantasy literature.
As JKR stated herself, she intended to subvert the genre and break the rules so to speak. HA!!! sounds like someone we know in the books!!!
David, I never got around to talking about JKR because I didn’t want to confuse the issue. But I certainly agree that HP is more than escapist fantasy literature. And the way it works is ingenius.
She starts by giving us an interesting, entertaining, magical boarding school mystery. Spoons full of sugar. She hooks us by presenting a world that is so rich in references to myths and ancient lore (aka alchemy), so enjoyable in its so-real-I-can-touch-it depiction of magic, and so full of fun, that we’re in for the ride before we realize where it’s all going. Then things start getting darker. Sirius Black’s years in Azkaban, Nigel Longbottom’s parents’ fate, those are not funny. And then people start to die. At first a token sacrifice: Cedric Diggory. But then the gallant, doomed Sirius Black. And then – Dumbledore! I will never forget my utter and complete disbelief and denial after the scene at the Astronomy Tower. It’s not fun any more, boys and girls. This is for real. People are dying for real. People who shouldn’t die are dying. And then – Harry himself. Against every convention in the adventure genre, the hero sacrifices his life. And there we are, at a place none of us envisaged when we started the whole journey: death is immutable and powerful, and the only thing that has any power over it is the love that we bear for each other.
Strong stuff. Heavy stuff. Wonderful stuff.
If this is medicine, give me more.
I agree — as readers, we don’t only escape FROM something, we also escape TO something.
We often look at other works of art (think of movies) as being entertaining as well as enlightening. I’m not sure why we sometimes don’t apply this sort of thinking to other types of art. I had a teacher who said that art is meant to be a mirror for society. Much of art is meant to be more than solely entertaining, and artists can even use entertaining qualities to suspend our disbelief (and suspicion) in order to be that mirror.
I’d argue for fiction being transformative. I know that works by Lewis, Rowling, and others have transformed not only the way I appreciate other literature, but have also transformed the way I look at life. There are thought-provoking lines, of course, but even more important to me as a reader is my experience through stories. I learn lessons along with characters, and I can look up to characters like Dumbledore (for instance, he does a remarkable job of restraining his anger) and try to become more like them in some ways.
And, as Lewis pointed out, woods full of magic can make us appreciate our own woods even more. We’re not really escaping; we’re vacationing.
“With apologies to Neil Postman for stealing his phrase: “Amusing ourselves to death!”
LOL
Now that’s some good stuff!
Now, I would throw Twilight, though, more towards the mindless entertainment (despite my positive views of the series) since it really does not have the craft and deeper meaning of good lit, just reflects the desire of many ladies and hence makes for a great ‘chick flick lit.’
Tolkien on the other hand is the ‘Great Escape,’ if you will.
Rowling, in her works, also imbues the mundane muggle world with wonder when viewed from the aspect of the wizarding world. Arthur is constantly amazed by muggle inginuity, Ron thinks still-photo posters are crazy. The wizarding world is full of its own monotony. The drudgery of cleaning, study, passing exams, dealing with and working for a bereaucracy.
I’d love to be able to see life as a battle between good and evil and, in my own way, be a mighty warrior for good and achieve hard won victories. Stories of these things resound inside me. It makes me wonder if reality is wrong or I have a faulty view of reality.
Korg,, here’s a bit of personal philosophy that’s got nothing to do with the subject at hand. I do see life as a battle between good and evil, with hard won victories. But they don’t look like the battles we read about in LOTR or HP. They’re usually on a much smaller scale, and involve the struggle between decency, kindness, mature responsibility versus selfishness, meanness and irresponsibility. Being a good father, husband, son, employer, worker, colleague, team member, commmunity member, vs not being those things. There is also the greater scale, fighting crime, fighting against injustice, fighting in wars. But as soon as you get into the bigger picture the line between good and evil starts getting fuzzy: power tends to be abused, injustices are committed in the name of good, more innocents suffer and are killed in wars than active combatants. And sometimes in the heat of battle, it’s hard to tell the innocents from the bad guys, however we define them.
The real life battle against evil is rarely as clean and simple as we see in books and movies.
Lots to say here! I’ve got two more posts coming out tomorrow, one which is basically my final words on Twilight for quite some time, and one that points to a particular Twilight journal that illustrates what I’m trying to say with this post about readers who think “mindless fun” is the ultimate goal of literature – and that anyone looking for “deeper meaning” is just pretentious and “pseudo-intellectual.”
Quick responses – sorry I can’t get to everything at present, but I need t sleep:
Izhilzha, yes, Lewis is brilliant on these themes. I find the three essays at the beginning of the little collection Of Other Worlds to be very enlightening.
Graham, good to see you here! Thanks for the comment. Yes, “On Fairy-Stories” is, in my view, the most magisterial defense of the Perilous Realm I’ve read. If you’ve not read it yet (you probably have), see Chapter 4 of Chesterton’s Orthodoxy – you’ll see just how much Tolkien learned from Chesterton’s way of thinking. Interesting parallels between the two, and I intend to explore them in detail in coming posts (and I’m sketching out a new book as well).
Red Rocker, yes, I think both approaches can be sustained in the same book. I’d say that great literature can and does produce transformation (though not automatically – the heart must be willing). Of course, there is a certain view of human existence that has to be embraced there, which was laid out fairly nicely in a recent post by John at HogPro. That’s why I’d say that alchemy works on deeper levels than the metaphorical, and that it has greater power than just the fashioning of Harry’s story into a certain mythic atmosphere. I think it operates on the reader as well. Transformation and enlightenment of one’s imagination leads to transformation of self. John explains this better than I do. It’s the anagogical, spiritual-understanding level. It’s Kilby’s statement, “Myth is vision.”
Professor L, wherever Twilight fits on the spectrum between “deeper meaning” and “mindless entertainment,” there is no doubt: Tolkien is the master. Even Rowling doesn’t hold a candle, James W. Thomas’s humorous argument to the contrary notwithstanding.
Back tomorrow for more.
Tolkien is the master of deeper meaning?
How so? Because he devised a creation myth? Because he wrote of an epic battle between the forces of good and evil? Because he saw good and evil as rooted in the ultimate fabric of the universe? Because he wrote of the rise and fall of civilizations? Because he wrote about the quest for power and how it corrupts?
No, Tolkien is not the master of “deeper meaning.” He’s the master of the genre.
Wonderful post. And thanks for the shout out!
Travis, that is the kind of statement that begs for its own post. I’m tempted to agree with you, but then works such as the Iliad, Odyssey, Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, The Princess and the Goblin, The Jungle Book, Just So Stories, the Tarzan and John Carter books, The Once and Future King, the works of Robert E. Howard, not to mention C.S. Lewis and JKR herself come to mind.
Travis I actually have not read much Chesterton at all really. Even though I have been a huge fan of all the Inklings since the age of 8 (I am now 20) Other than C.S. Lewis’ theological writings, I haven’t read all that deeply into their other works or influences. I am almost finished with Humphrey Carpenter’s The Inklings, Essay’s Presented to Charles Williams, and I just finished Tales from the Perilous Realm. If you have any suggestions on anything to read more in this particular area I would love to hear them
Okay, here goes my second post on this site. I just found it, and I like it very much.
, I will look deeper into it.
I think many people read for ‘escapism’, but even when reading like that, they pick up things. That’s supposed to be the great thing about reading stories, learning something without really having to study. I’ll take The Chosen by Chaim Potok as example. If you read it, you will learn things about Jews and religion and some other things, but if you really study it after that, you’ll learn even more. If the book you read for ‘escapism’ manages to get you interested, there’s a chance you will study them.
Well, if that’s possible. In Twilight, there isn’t that much to really study. There are no anagrams and little things, as far as I know (except that there is a not so friendly character named Lauren Mallory whose name is very similar to Laura Mallory, who I’m sure you know for ehm.. not exactly liking HP). There are of course the bigger things in the storyline, but they are vague and are more like not so good theories.
Some writers may write more to just tell the story that is in their head and just has to get out, but I believe that even in those stories there is something more, just because it is a story, and the author may not intend to express his/her opinion on some topics, but most of the time will. I think writers that do intend to write for something more than the just putting something fown on paper but really have a deeper meaning in their story, will often find people going deeper into their stories-if they are well written (or at least written in an interesting way or with an interesting story) – just because there is anoppurtunity to do that.
So, what I’ve been trying to say: it doesn’t really matter if the writer intends to have a deeper meaning or not, people will read what they want in it. It can be esscapism, or it can be that deeper meaning.
I know what you mean by the escapism.. I like to escape from the real world for a while as well sometimes, but not because this world is so horrible and boring, just because I can ‘escape’ to something else: something unusual, something I didn’t know before, or just because you want to know what happens next. Most of the time, I will think about it a little deeper after I’ve finished it, and if I really like it (like Harry Potter) or have to read it for school
Well, I just wrote something quite long and not really interesting, probably. But I just needed to write this for myseld now, even if it’s a little beside the point.
Actually, evanna11, I thought you did a very good job expressing those thoughts. Some good stuff in them, very helpful.
evanna11, glad you’re commenting, and very good thoughts. You seem to be hitting on a couple of important things:
1. Authors who do not intentionally write as “deeper levels” of meaning nevertheless often do so unwittingly. I agree. I’ve voiced much agreement with the content of MacDonald’s essay “The Fantastic Imagination,” which contains similar thoughts.
2. Readers subconsciously pick up the deeper themes of stories, even if they’re reading just to “get away.” I agree. Tolkien wrote that good imaginative fiction, or a true “fairy story,” accomplished “the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires.” I think this was precisely John Granger’s point when he began commenting on Harry Potter back in 2004 – that the story was popular because something in it was resonating with readers.
I didn’t read all the comments but I just want to toss in my perspective as a novelist. I put a great deal of thought into the iconography, symbolism, themes, depth and levels of meaning in what I write–and yet I almost never feel that I’m completely in control of it. Things weave their way into the text that I don’t intend or see coming and that’s a good thing–that’s the best thing. I’m not writing literary fiction either, I write what I’d call historical adventure. In other words, we’re not talking Kafka here, but I still feel very strongly that it’s an author’s responsibility to pack as much depth and meaning into every single chapter, scene, prop, character, and word as he possibly can even if the reader never perceives it.
The extent to which an author successfully conveys the subtext of his novel without blatantly exposing it or insulting the reader is something of a measure of his success at the craft.