Jacena i Nuinda - The Politics of Attitude [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Limyaael

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The Politics of Attitude [May. 4th, 2008|08:03 pm]
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This is a problem I try to address in all my writing, but often have little success with. I think it's one of those ideas that are inherently difficult to do well.



Briefly, what fascinates me most about a secondary world in fantasy or SF is the attitudes its characters have toward life. Is it a comic view? A tragic one? What is most important in the economic system: profit, lives, reputation, or something else? What are the relations between the sexes in the societies presented, sure, but even more improtantly, what kind of emotional postures do the sexes take toward each other? (Fantasies that don't think about this end up with the unconscious "women are less important than men" cliché; fantasies that do think about it, but simplistically, end up with the "women are revered because they're closer to nature, duh!" attitude). What are the historical events that ally countries or pit them against one another, but also, what are the reputations and residue those historical events have left behind in the minds of the people living now?

I want the characters to think like people of their culture would think, their thoughts rising naturally out of the emotions and unacknowledged prejudices and social forces driving them.

But this? Extremely hard to get into print. Try to do it and all sorts of unsavory things can happen. You can smash all characters flat into either acceptance of the dominant attitude or one-dimensional opposition of it; look at Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth series, where you're capitalist if you're Good, and socialist if you're Evil.

You can allow your own real-world attitudes to influence what happens in the story, to its detriment. Anne McCaffrey retconned her own canon to take gay characters out, even though she'd set it up that way and an accepting attitude toward homosexuality made more sense in the context of the world (characters being overwhelmed by passion when their dragons mated and supposedly grabbing the other rider to have unthinking sex immediately; now McCaffrey claims that the dragonriders' girlfriends or wives always step in). Some of the criticism I've read of George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss, absolutely baffled by the ending of the novel, points out that the ending makes sense if you look at Eliot's attitude toward the autobiographical elements in the book, but it's absolutely wrong for the characters involved.

You can try your very hardest to incorporate attitudes into the book and still wind up with a tangled mess. Most of George Meredith's novels are like that. He does his very best to, say, reconcile idealism and realism, but he ends up with characters that don't act "realistically" enough for many readers and also aren't good enough to seem like people from a romance. Some retellings of fairy tales fall flat for the same reason; the author is trying to reconcile the dream logic of a distinctly non-modern story with modern moral ideas, and the whole thing explodes.

So the problem becomes how to do this and have it work, and, even more, have it be part of the story, rather than something tacked on.

I don't know how yet.

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Comments:
From: [info]charmian
2008-05-05 08:12 am (UTC)

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Some of the criticism I've read of George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss, absolutely baffled by the ending of the novel, points out that the ending makes sense if you look at Eliot's attitude toward the autobiographical elements in the book, but it's absolutely wrong for the characters involved.

Oh? What do you mean? IIRC it turned into a "rocks fall, inconvenient people die" ending, where it seemed like she just had them flooded away as kind of a symbol, though I felt it to be like a deus ex machina.
[User Picture]From: [info]limyaael
2008-05-05 02:13 pm (UTC)

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It makes sense in that the ending reconciles Tom and Maggie, and Eliot was writing their relationship based on her own relationship with her brother Isaac (who didn't speak to her for thirty years because she was a "fallen woman" living with a married man) and what she would have liked to happen in it. However, that ending is problematic for the characters themselves, because they've already had their tragedy- Tom refusing to accept Maggie back after she floated away with Stephen Guest, her supposed lover- and Stephen himself is an extraordinarily vague person for a hero or lover, only introduced in the last third of the book. A lot of critics since Eliot's time have criticized Stephen's weakness. Modern critics know that Eliot actually did plan the flood from the start of the story; what seems to have happened is that she got caught up in writing the brother-sister relationship in the early parts of the novel and then didn't set up what was meant to be Maggie's "fall" early enough or well enough.
From: [info]charmian
2008-05-06 03:28 am (UTC)

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Why is it "problematic" for the characters because they've already had their tragedy? Or do you mean that if the story is about the disagreement between the siblings and their reconciliation, the fall is at the wrong place in the book?
[User Picture]From: [info]limyaael
2008-05-06 04:38 am (UTC)

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Basically, the critics I've been reading think it makes perfect sense for Tom and Maggie not to reconcile. They've followed out the characters and the patterns Eliot has set up for them, and it's essentially a tragic story. It would make sense for Maggie to die without being forgiven; as the book I'm reading about The Mill on the Floss right now puts it, it would be unbearable, but it would make sense.

Instead, Eliot forces a reconciliation through the flood. Tom and Maggie admit they love each other and then drown together. It's seen as a clumsily done plot move. And if she really did want a tragic end for Maggie, then yes, the fall should have been earlier, and Stephen should have been better developed as a tragic hero; instead, the closest match for a tragic hero is Maggie's brother. So the patterns Eliot was using go all out of whack, and a lot of people haven't been happy with the ending for nearly 150 years.

English literary criticism: the wank that keeps on going.
From: [info]charmian
2008-05-06 04:43 am (UTC)

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Ah, that makes sense.

Heh, so essentially a characterization problem. Yeah, I think as it was, I wasn't bothered with the forgiving, just with the flood.
[User Picture]From: [info]limyaael
2008-05-06 02:16 pm (UTC)

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Yeah. I really like the depiction of the flood as a piece of nature writing, but plot-wise it seems so random. And Eliot was doing research on floods before the book was written, so it wasn't meant to be. She meant it as this grand tragic ending; instead, a lot of people have taken the ending to be about the arbitrary unfairness of life. Which is about 180 degrees from Eliot's philosophy, and indicates problems rooted in the characters.
[User Picture]From: [info]melannen
2008-05-06 07:17 pm (UTC)

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I actually thinkg that this is one thing that writing fanfic is very good at teaching: writing fic set in somebody else's world, you've got to face the tension between what the original author thought about the world, what *you* think, and what the characters think. And (to write good, thoughtful fanfic, anyway) you have to either *consciously* match your attitude to what the original story does, or *consciously* think about how you're going to use characters to subvert the attitudes that are assumed in the original work. Even (maybe especially) if it's done badly in the original, because you learn where you can fit the complexity in.

Just by trying to write in canon, you're already immersing yourself in attitudes that aren't your own, even if it's only the difference been yours and the original authors'. If it's a canon where attitudes *purposely* diverge from our culture's accepted ones, it's even better. Figuring out where the preconceptoins make blind spots and how you can play with them is both a simplified playground for trying to do it from scratch in the real world, and good practice for learning to see that in the your own original work.

Obviously you can write fanfic without thinking about any of that, and moving from fic to original stuff means other challenges, but for me personally in trying to figure out *how* I do a bad job at giving my characters their own worlviews, having canon as a "cheat sheet" to check my work against has been really helpful.
[User Picture]From: [info]limyaael
2008-05-06 07:45 pm (UTC)

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I think you're probably right about that. A lot of the fanfic I've read that consciously rebels against the authors' attitudes, however, ends up making the Goodkind mistake (the characters the author dislikes become flattened out, the characters the author likes are heroes without restraint; see many pro-Slytherin fics in the HP fandom) or the authors' own needs and attitudes get stamped on the characters (a lot of LOTR fics which take Arwen and Eowyn out-of-character in order to make them feminist heroines, and any possible in-canon origins of this feminism are not explored or justified). Dissatisfaction and irritation with the original source are, I think, creative forces; they often have been for me. But unless you're writing pure satire of the original, you eventually have to go beyond that and create a positive good of your own. What is it going to be? What kind of attitude will you express? The diametric opposite of something you dislike is usually not more clever, clear, or subtle.

I should add that I've read some fanfics that do thoughtfully question aspects of the canon world, especially in LOTR and X-Files (I think fewer in HP, because the irritation seems to take precedence over the thoughtfulness there). I just don't think it really escapes the problem.