Jeremiah Tolbert

Writer | Photographer | Web Designer

Why I hate Elves, Dwarves, Dragons, and…

(This is a very tongue-in-cheek entry.)

It’s no secret to reg­u­lar read­ers that I loathe so-called generic fan­tasy. And it is generic, in a very supermarket-product sense. Generic fan­tasy is a pale imi­ta­tion of some­one else’s orig­i­nal prod­uct. It is the yel­low box that says CEREAL on the bot­tom shelf.

Most generic fan­tasy is whole­sale intel­lec­tual thiev­ery from J.R.R. Tolkien. Yes, he him­self built his world based on mythol­ogy, and I am aware that one of his goals was to cre­ate a mythol­ogy for England. But that does not earn lazy authors any points with me if they write using his basic world-building ele­ments. I don’t care if your elves are doing some­thing non­tra­di­tional, like build­ing and rac­ing high per­for­mance race cars. I don’t care if they are detec­tives, paired up with a gruff but lov­able dwarf who chomps cig­ars and quips about unsolved cases. You’re still rely­ing mostly on the hard work that Tolkien did for your char­ac­ter­i­za­tion and world building.

Stop being so lazy and make up your own worlds! China Mieville, you get an A from me. Even if I didn’t like Un Lun Dun very much (under­stand­able, being a children’s book).

The same goes for you bloody adults that read this stuff. It’s for­giv­able in the habits of a D&D play­ing teenager, but you should know bet­ter. You’re delib­er­ately impov­er­ish­ing your brain by read­ing this stuff. Put down the Robert Jordan and back away slowly. The Sword of Shanara has been read plenty enough times. Terry Brooks, you have your money. Let’s lock all the copies in a big vault and for­get about it for a few centuries.

It’s got­ten to the point where I can’t even see Tolkien’s work clearly. I am sure he did some­thing impres­sive and new, once upon a time, but I can­not view his work with­out look­ing through the lens cre­ated by the garbage that has fol­lowed it. I might have been a fan if I hadn’t been exposed to every­thing that came after­wards. I do enjoy the Hobbit, I guess, but it’s by no means my favorite fan­tasy novel.

I guess what I am try­ing to say is, if you write and sell a book that involves a reluc­tant, small-sized hero being tasked to steal some­thing for the Bigger Folk and fac­ing Mighty Danger, receiv­ing help along the way from the lithe, tall, and earthy peo­ple with pointed ears and high chin bones, it gives me the right to punch you in the gonads. You have been warned.

Now I’m off to write up that dwarf-and-elf-they-solve-crime! story.

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6 Responses »

  1. I think I’ve made this same point, but more focused on magic. I hate it when generic fan­tasy has generic magic of point­ing a stick and say­ing some­thing vaguely vul­gar Latin.

    Or much worse, when magic is just some psy­chic force that’s har­nessed by con­cen­trat­ing really hard. I feel that magic, and even psion­ics, needs to be demon­strated to the reader as some­thing other than wish­ing hard and chant­ing a word. Unless the writer really wants to sug­gest that magic is just prayer but where god-like beings actu­ally inter­vene … but that cre­ates big­ger nar­ra­tive issues.

  2. Come on, Tolbert — all media by its nature can­not help but to be deriv­a­tive from that which has gone before. It is as you say — even Tolkien never claimed to be orig­i­nal, merely remix­ing and orga­niz­ing the crea­tures of the fan­tas­tic doc­u­mented by prior authors. Perhaps doing so is lazy, but the estab­lished tropes of any genre are inevitably a time-saving device for a later author. This means that at some level the work may be uno­rig­i­nal, but these assump­tions and prej­u­dices that we bring to the table may allow for deeper explo­ration of the sub­ject mat­ter — or the pleas­ant sur­prise we find when our expec­ta­tions are defeated by a clever author’s novel spin on a tra­di­tional concept.

    Sure, we know that tall and skinny folks with pointed ears are liable to be pre­ten­tious and live for a long time — but what does this age­less­ness do to their psy­che or their inter­ac­tion with their chil­dren? Just why is it that they have such a dif­fi­cult rela­tion­ship with the short and stocky bearded folks of the world? Why is their phys­i­ol­ogy thus, and what does their low birth-rate imply for the ecol­ogy of a given world? Why is their tech­no­log­i­cally pow­er­ful soci­ety in decline? Why have they devel­oped a magic sys­tem that is so dis­tinct from that of other peo­ples? Are they exploit­ing dif­fer­ent prop­er­ties of the same phys­i­cal laws in your mag­i­cal world, or do they actu­ally access a dif­fer­ent source for their power?

    Remember: they don’t have to be elves trapped in a tra­di­tional fan­tasy realm to still be elves. Star Trek has long had Space Elves and Space Orks, even if Mr. Roddenberry called them by dif­fer­ent names.

  3. my sug­gest­ing is that if you want to put the typ­i­cal fan­tasy crea­tures in a story– add a twist to the races that make them still sim­i­lar to the expec­ta­tions of read­ers, yet dif­fer­ent. I would also like to point out that you are most likely a mediocre author at most. if you knew how to write really good then i would have prob­a­bly heard your name before. all I am say­ing is don’t go and give out advice to other peo­ple when your not exactly J.K rowling.

  4. Actually– I take back the part about you not being a good author. I was think­ing, and real­ized that i shouldn’t say that, espe­cially when i am not even a writer.
    Thank you for your sug­ges­tions above– i will take them into con­sid­er­a­tion since i am sure that many peo­ple agree with you (as do I)

  5. Let’s work on your com­ment, shall we? It’s full of bad gram­mar and poor sen­tence struc­ture. Here’s my sug­gested edits:

    My sug­ges­tion is that if you want to use the typ­i­cal fan­tasy crea­tures in a story, you should add a twist on the old idea. Also, com­pletely tan­gen­tially to my point and because I am an angry lit­tle kid with noth­ing bet­ter to do, I have assumed that you are a mediocre author at best, pri­mar­ily because I have never heard of you. While that speaks more to my igno­rance than it does to your actual qual­ity of writ­ing, which I have never read, all I am say­ing is, you shouldn’t give advice to snivel­ing brats like me who don’t under­stand the dif­fer­ence between opin­ion and fact. Also, J.K. Rowling is the best author I can think to evoke when talk­ing about writ­ing. So, you should prob­a­bly not pay atten­tion to me.”

    Your com­ment gets a C-. Try harder next time.

  6. Now, now. You don’t have to be a writer to eval­u­ate someone’s writ­ing abil­i­ties. My sug­ges­tions are just that–suggestions. Don’t take any­thing you read around here too seri­ously. I’m not try­ing to tell you what to like. I’m just talk­ing about what I like.

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