Reading Tinker by Wen Spencer reminded me why I fell in love with Urban Fantasy long ago. While wondering what to say in my review of the book, I found myself thinking rather nostalgically of the Urban Fantasy novels I read back in college. They were so much fun. It’s been a long time since the genre produced anything like them, something that isn’t either vampire based or written for the young adult market. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as fond of blood suckers as the next gal, and I adore some of the recent YA novels like Holly Black’s Modern Fairie Tales and The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare; it’s just that I wish more authors would write true Urban Fantasy for grown-ups. You know, like something that takes longer than an hour to read and isn’t yet another girl meets vampire story.
Oh, Charles DeLint is still writing his Newford stories. Those are great, but they’re getting mighty repetitive after all these years. Yeah, and Neil Gaiman is still awesome even though he’s playing in the YA market at the moment. I’m sure someday he’ll produce another UF novel for adults, something as different from Neverwhere and Ananzi Boys as they are from each other. Emma Bull is still writing. Terri Windling is still editing. I’m certain there are tons of unpublished authors out there writing the kind of thing I want to read, I just wonder if they’ll ever get published if they don’t give in to the “girl kicks some butt then falls for a vampire” plot. Remember when Urban Fantasy meant something besides an excuse for hot vampire sex? I miss those days.
Way back when, the setting wasn’t just a backdrop to a love story; it was a metaphor for living on the edges of things. Magic came to the city and produced an atmosphere of uncertainty. It was a half-way place, neither one thing nor the other. The characters were always people who didn’t fit into mainstream society, neither one thing nor the other themselves; and that atmosphere gave them a place to grow and change. The stories were almost always about exploring individuality and finding a place to fit without sacrificing that individuality.
These novels caught me at a time in my life when I was struggling to do the same, so they really spoke to me. These days, I’ve pretty much got the individuality vs. fitting into society thing down to a sort of wobbly tightrope walk; I hardly ever plunge screaming to the ground anymore. Still, it’s fun to voluntarily muck around down there with my favorite characters every once in a while. When I do, the books below are the ones that take me back:
War for the Oaks by Emma Bull--This is the quintessential, genre defining Urban Fantasy novel. The novel may not have been the first, but it was the first that mattered. Eddi the rock musician gets dragged into a war fought in Minneapolis between the light and dark fairie courts. As she’s drawn deeper into their world, she realizes her creative potential, finds herself, and incidentally finds someone to love. War for the Oaks might seem dated to anyone who wasn’t a teenager in the eighties, but the power of the story transcends the intervening decades. A must read for any UF fan.
Bordertown--If War for the Oaks is the birthplace of Urban Fantasy, Bordertown is the genre’s beloved childhood home. Seriously, B-town rocks like an heirloom cradle covered with purple glitter paint. Terri Windling invented a world where magic and technology meet in the borderlands of Earth and Elfland, then invited all the best voices in SFF to come play there. It spawned quite a few short story collections and a couple of novels. I haven’t read them all, but everything I’ve read has been delightful. “Mockery” by Ellen Kushner and Bellamy Bach is an enduring favorite of mine.
Knights of Ghosts and Shadows by Mercedes Lackey and Ellen Guon--I’m never quite sure how I feel about Mercedes Lackey’s books. I can’t stop reading them, but I’m a little embarrassed to admit they still remain favorites. The things don’t even have a nodding acquaintance with literature. Nevertheless, this book deserves a place on the list, if only because it was the first Urban Fantasy book I ever read. Elves at the renaissance fair…on motorcycles no less! How can you not love this book? (If you want to read a novel by Ellen Guon set in the same universe, try Bedlam Boyz over at Baen Free Library. You can’t go wrong with something free.)
Memory and Dream by Charles DeLint--Charles DeLint always writes interesting Urban Fantasy when he visits Newford, but this particular book is the best of the best. It explores the nature of art, creation, and reality. Over the years, the characters have become like old friends. I’ll never tire of reading about Isabelle’s friendship with Kathy, her love story with a man from one of her paintings, or her love/hate relationship with her mentor. Good times.
Wraeththu by Storm Constantine--There’s never been anything remotely like this book. Ever. That makes it sort of hard to explain. You could describe the magical hermaphrodites in an apocalyptic world, or say that its an urban fantasy with pagan elements; you could rave about the beautiful language, point out the genius of the concept, or even describe how the basic naivety of the world building lends it an innocence that‘s almost heartbreaking. None of that would really do it justice. It’s a cult classic for a reason. Just read it. You’ll see. (And probably become obsessed.)
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman--When I read American Gods, I knew Neil Gaiman would be important, not just to the urban fantasy genre but to literature as a whole. This was a book that you could call an “instant classic” without having to cross your fingers behind your back. His writing reminded me of Ray Bradbury, an author I absolutely adore. The only problem was that I hated American Gods. Violently. It gave me nightmares. The imagery made me so sick to my stomach, so full of dread, that I barely even took in the story. After that, I shied away from his books. It wasn’t until his publisher offered Neverwhere as a free e-book that I even glanced at any more of his words. I’m so glad I finally did, because Neverwhere is just about perfect. I’d even go so far as to call it the best of the new Urban Fantasy.
And there you have it, my guide to the best in Urban Fantasy. I hope it encourages you to read a whole bunch of good books.
Showing posts with label thinky thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thinky thoughts. Show all posts
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Single Character POV: Isn’t it ironic?
After reading ten or fifteen recently published novels, I started to wonder what the heck was missing from these books. Why couldn’t I immerse myself in them? They weren’t awful books, not precisely, but nothing to keep me up past my bedtime. Predictably, it started me thinking--because, ya know, everything starts me thinking.
Here’s what the novels had in common:
Possessed an interesting premise, check
Included vampires, elves, or other androgynous males, check
Attempted witty, witty dialogue, check
Written from a single character’s point of view, che--OH.
It hit me hard, like an epiphany accompanied by choirs of angels. All of the novels were written from a single character’s point of view! That must be the reason! It’s obviously because novels with single character’s POV lack…um…well, um…they lack multiple points of view?
Yeah, as epiphanies go, this one kind of sucked. I clearly needed to think about it some more. Why would the POV make a difference? Why, God, WHY? Two hours and many wikipedia entries later, I’m pretty sure I discovered an actual answer. It’s this: single character POV discourages irony. Since irony is often the machine that moves the plot, builds character development, and generally makes a story worth reading; that’s pretty important, isn’t it?
But what exactly IS irony, anyway? I know I’m not the only one to be shaky on this point at one time or another. None of my teachers ever gave me a simple definition of irony, at least not one that I understood, and it was probably because they were just as confused. (Then again, maybe I was just stupid before the invention of wikipedia.) Whatever. Let’s just call irony a disconnect between reality and perception; that’s as good a definition as any.
It encompasses these three things:
1. Verbal irony, the difference between what someone says and what he means
2. Situational irony, the difference between what actually happens and what is expected to happen
3. Dramatic irony, the difference between what the audience knows and what the character perceives.
In fiction, dramatic irony is the greatest of these. It increases the tension in the novel, makes for delicious “Aha!” moments for the reader, and keeps those pages turning. That’s why this recent tendency for authors to stick with a single character’s point of view is so disappointing. When readers aren’t given a different point of view, how can they know more about the story than the character? Well, duh, they can‘t--at least not very easily. Authors have a much tougher time using this kind of irony when the reader only receives the story from one perspective.
The number of multiple POV novels published in the last five years or so seem to be few. It might just be me, but I can count the number I‘ve read in the past year on one hand. There’s The Boleyn Inheritance by Philippa Gregory, and Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. That’s it. Everything else has been restricted to stories told from one character‘s perspective.
Damn all well-meant advice to aspiring authors.
Okay, so maybe not, but I think that’s where this tendency originates. Publishing houses, published authors, and “how to write” books all recommend that the author pick one character and write everything from his point of view. I know, I know, it’s not terrible advice. Many inexperienced authors have a tendency to switch POV in mid-paragraph, sometimes even in mid-sentence, and that just results in a confusing mess. Now, I’m all for encouraging inexperienced writers to produce something decent for publication, but does this mean I have to say goodbye to those well crafted, multiple POV stories? I certainly hope not.
Character Development
It’s just plain better when you see a character from another character’s point of view. It gives them both depth.
Consider this bit of (admittedly not very good) writing:
“Don’t be stupid.” Tiffany hated how her voice scaled up to that high, whining pitch when she was nervous, but she could barely choke the words out around her fear, much less modulate their tone. There was something so disquieting about the smell coming out of that cave. "Besides," she continued, "there’s probably nothing down there but a few old bat skeletons."
She squared her shoulders as Raoul nodded. Did nothing fluster the boy? He slid his sword out of his scabbard, looking as unconcerned as any of the grim knights from the Crystal City, and edged closer to the opening in the rock.
And now this bit with multiple POV:
“Don’t be stupid." Tiffany hated how her voice scaled up to that high, whining pitch when she was nervous, but she could barely choke the words out around her fear, much less modulate their tone. There was something so disquieting about the smell coming out of that cave. "Besides," she continued, "there’s probably nothing down there but a few old bat skeletons."
She squared her shoulders, trying to seem as brave as Raoul . He looked as unconcerned as one of the grim knights from the Crystal City. Did nothing ever fluster the boy?
With this POV switch halfway through the scene:
Raoul slid his sword out of his scabbard, hoping that his sweaty palms wouldn‘t cause him to lose his grip at a crucial moment. He considered wiping them on his t-shirt, but damned if he would look like a coward in front of Tiffany again. “Right.” He nodded and edged closer to the opening in the rock. The cave positively reeked of dragon, but how could he suggest turning back when a this slip of a girl spoke so contemptuously of bat skeletons?
Yes, I’m aware that switching pov mid-scene is a stupid move, especially with such a rough transition, but you get the general idea here. Adding Raoul’s point of view lets us know more about both Raoul and Tiffany.
What we now know about Tiffany:
1. She hides her fear better than she thinks she does.
2. She has no idea Raoul is nervous.
What we now know about Raoul:
1. He doesn’t think he’s brave.
2. He’s nervous.
3. He thinks Tiffany sees him as a coward.
See? Multiple POV = Verbal irony x 2 + dramatic irony = character depth. It can help with the plot, too.
Heigh-ho, Moving That Plot Along
Okay, so the plot is what happens in the story. Let’s say a wizard transports Tiffany and Raoul to a fantasy kingdom threatened by a dragon. The kids overcome obstacles which eventually result in the dragon’s death. There is much rejoicing, and the kids, profoundly changed by their adventures, return to their home. Setup, conflict, and resolution; those are the elements of the plot.
There’s no question that the plot could be accomplished from one character’s perspective and without the use of dramatic irony. So how does dramatic irony help? How does it move the plot along, and how does the use of multiple POV make it better?
To go back to the excerpt above, moving the plot along means the kids are going to have to go down into the cave of the dragon. Dramatic irony shown through the use of multiple POV gives them a reason to go there. Why are they going? What’s their motivation? Raoul draws his sword and edges closer to the entrance because he wants to prove to Tiffany that he is not a coward. Tiffany will follow because she wants to be as brave as Raoul. If they would just talk to each other, if they would just admit their fears, they wouldn’t have to go into the cave to meet the dragon at all. They could just go have a nice cup of tea somewhere. Of course, then there wouldn’t be much of a story. It’s that disconnect between their perceptions of each other that is giving them both the impetus to crawl into that creepy cave.
Now, I’m not denying that there still might be a story if we received the whole thing from Tiffany’s perspective. I don’t think, however, that it would be quite as interesting.
And that brings us to…
Tension and Oh, Those Delicious “Aha!” Moments
The most satisfying moments in multiple POV stories come from tensions resolved with each switch of perspective. Something unknown by the character in the first scene becomes known in the next POV switch. “Aha! Joe saw the butler holding the candlestick in the billiard room! If only Sally had seen it, she would have realized the parlor maid lied. Oh, if only Joe and Sally could talk!“ You, the reader, perceive something the character doesn’t. That disconnect is dramatic irony, and it’s what keeps those pages turning long after you ought to be starting dinner for the kids.
It doesn’t even have to end with the conversation between Joe and Sally that solves the murder. The trick to keeping the tension going is to add another conflict along with each resolution--sometimes two or three other conflicts, some that are resolved with the next character switch, and some that are resolved much, much later in the story. It becomes a many layered thing, drawing the reader deeper and deeper into the story.
The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan is the first story that comes to mind when I think about this kind of writing. The man was the master of head hopping. There’s also The Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R, Martin, almost anything by Maeve Binchy, and if you’re into military type stuff, The Hunt for Red October by Tom Clancy is supposed to be an absolutely great multiple POV novel. (I haven’t read it yet, to my eternal shame.)
So, would any of these novels and series even be worth reading if the authors restricted their narrative to one character’s perspective? The authors are pretty good, so the answer is probably yes. The stories, however, would certainly lose much of their tension and complexity. In fact, each novel would probably change beyond recognition given the impossibility of telling the stories from so many different settings within their respective worlds. The authors would have to compensate by simplifying the plot so the novel wouldn’t suffer from information dump-itis. (Never, ever fun.)
It’s dramatic irony that moves the plots in these books. It’s what makes them worth reading. If they were written from a single character’s perspective, they would lose that dramatic irony and thus become completely different stories. And THAT, kids, is what tells us what is missing from all these recently published books.
So, in glorious conclusion (or something): A single character POV, isn’t it ironic? The answer is no, it usually isn’t.* At the least, single character POV is restricted to verbal and situational irony; it isn’t dramatically ironic at all.
And that’s too bad.
*Sorry Alanis, it’s also really not like rain on your wedding day. Unless, of course, your biggest fear is that it will rain on your wedding day; and you’re obsessed with the possibility, so much so that you research weather witches on the internet. You meet one and fall in love. The day of your wedding dawns the tiniest bit overcast, so your groom to be starts to cast a spell for clear skies, just in case. But WOE and DISASTER, at the most critical moment he’s distracted by having to rescue you from a villain who kidnaps you to use your great fear as a focus to put a curse on your nuptials. The groom wins the day, the curse is averted, but the weather spell is horribly ruined. Instead of really clear skies, it’s pouring down rain when you finally walk up the aisle. Now, that’s ironic. Pretty stupid, but ironic. Yay for situational irony!**
**Oh, and bonus points if you’re telling this story from the perspective of twenty years of married bliss.
Here’s what the novels had in common:
Possessed an interesting premise, check
Included vampires, elves, or other androgynous males, check
Attempted witty, witty dialogue, check
Written from a single character’s point of view, che--OH.
It hit me hard, like an epiphany accompanied by choirs of angels. All of the novels were written from a single character’s point of view! That must be the reason! It’s obviously because novels with single character’s POV lack…um…well, um…they lack multiple points of view?
Yeah, as epiphanies go, this one kind of sucked. I clearly needed to think about it some more. Why would the POV make a difference? Why, God, WHY? Two hours and many wikipedia entries later, I’m pretty sure I discovered an actual answer. It’s this: single character POV discourages irony. Since irony is often the machine that moves the plot, builds character development, and generally makes a story worth reading; that’s pretty important, isn’t it?
But what exactly IS irony, anyway? I know I’m not the only one to be shaky on this point at one time or another. None of my teachers ever gave me a simple definition of irony, at least not one that I understood, and it was probably because they were just as confused. (Then again, maybe I was just stupid before the invention of wikipedia.) Whatever. Let’s just call irony a disconnect between reality and perception; that’s as good a definition as any.
It encompasses these three things:
1. Verbal irony, the difference between what someone says and what he means
2. Situational irony, the difference between what actually happens and what is expected to happen
3. Dramatic irony, the difference between what the audience knows and what the character perceives.
In fiction, dramatic irony is the greatest of these. It increases the tension in the novel, makes for delicious “Aha!” moments for the reader, and keeps those pages turning. That’s why this recent tendency for authors to stick with a single character’s point of view is so disappointing. When readers aren’t given a different point of view, how can they know more about the story than the character? Well, duh, they can‘t--at least not very easily. Authors have a much tougher time using this kind of irony when the reader only receives the story from one perspective.
The number of multiple POV novels published in the last five years or so seem to be few. It might just be me, but I can count the number I‘ve read in the past year on one hand. There’s The Boleyn Inheritance by Philippa Gregory, and Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. That’s it. Everything else has been restricted to stories told from one character‘s perspective.
Damn all well-meant advice to aspiring authors.
Okay, so maybe not, but I think that’s where this tendency originates. Publishing houses, published authors, and “how to write” books all recommend that the author pick one character and write everything from his point of view. I know, I know, it’s not terrible advice. Many inexperienced authors have a tendency to switch POV in mid-paragraph, sometimes even in mid-sentence, and that just results in a confusing mess. Now, I’m all for encouraging inexperienced writers to produce something decent for publication, but does this mean I have to say goodbye to those well crafted, multiple POV stories? I certainly hope not.
Character Development
It’s just plain better when you see a character from another character’s point of view. It gives them both depth.
Consider this bit of (admittedly not very good) writing:
“Don’t be stupid.” Tiffany hated how her voice scaled up to that high, whining pitch when she was nervous, but she could barely choke the words out around her fear, much less modulate their tone. There was something so disquieting about the smell coming out of that cave. "Besides," she continued, "there’s probably nothing down there but a few old bat skeletons."
She squared her shoulders as Raoul nodded. Did nothing fluster the boy? He slid his sword out of his scabbard, looking as unconcerned as any of the grim knights from the Crystal City, and edged closer to the opening in the rock.
And now this bit with multiple POV:
“Don’t be stupid." Tiffany hated how her voice scaled up to that high, whining pitch when she was nervous, but she could barely choke the words out around her fear, much less modulate their tone. There was something so disquieting about the smell coming out of that cave. "Besides," she continued, "there’s probably nothing down there but a few old bat skeletons."
She squared her shoulders, trying to seem as brave as Raoul . He looked as unconcerned as one of the grim knights from the Crystal City. Did nothing ever fluster the boy?
With this POV switch halfway through the scene:
Raoul slid his sword out of his scabbard, hoping that his sweaty palms wouldn‘t cause him to lose his grip at a crucial moment. He considered wiping them on his t-shirt, but damned if he would look like a coward in front of Tiffany again. “Right.” He nodded and edged closer to the opening in the rock. The cave positively reeked of dragon, but how could he suggest turning back when a this slip of a girl spoke so contemptuously of bat skeletons?
Yes, I’m aware that switching pov mid-scene is a stupid move, especially with such a rough transition, but you get the general idea here. Adding Raoul’s point of view lets us know more about both Raoul and Tiffany.
What we now know about Tiffany:
1. She hides her fear better than she thinks she does.
2. She has no idea Raoul is nervous.
What we now know about Raoul:
1. He doesn’t think he’s brave.
2. He’s nervous.
3. He thinks Tiffany sees him as a coward.
See? Multiple POV = Verbal irony x 2 + dramatic irony = character depth. It can help with the plot, too.
Heigh-ho, Moving That Plot Along
Okay, so the plot is what happens in the story. Let’s say a wizard transports Tiffany and Raoul to a fantasy kingdom threatened by a dragon. The kids overcome obstacles which eventually result in the dragon’s death. There is much rejoicing, and the kids, profoundly changed by their adventures, return to their home. Setup, conflict, and resolution; those are the elements of the plot.
There’s no question that the plot could be accomplished from one character’s perspective and without the use of dramatic irony. So how does dramatic irony help? How does it move the plot along, and how does the use of multiple POV make it better?
To go back to the excerpt above, moving the plot along means the kids are going to have to go down into the cave of the dragon. Dramatic irony shown through the use of multiple POV gives them a reason to go there. Why are they going? What’s their motivation? Raoul draws his sword and edges closer to the entrance because he wants to prove to Tiffany that he is not a coward. Tiffany will follow because she wants to be as brave as Raoul. If they would just talk to each other, if they would just admit their fears, they wouldn’t have to go into the cave to meet the dragon at all. They could just go have a nice cup of tea somewhere. Of course, then there wouldn’t be much of a story. It’s that disconnect between their perceptions of each other that is giving them both the impetus to crawl into that creepy cave.
Now, I’m not denying that there still might be a story if we received the whole thing from Tiffany’s perspective. I don’t think, however, that it would be quite as interesting.
And that brings us to…
Tension and Oh, Those Delicious “Aha!” Moments
The most satisfying moments in multiple POV stories come from tensions resolved with each switch of perspective. Something unknown by the character in the first scene becomes known in the next POV switch. “Aha! Joe saw the butler holding the candlestick in the billiard room! If only Sally had seen it, she would have realized the parlor maid lied. Oh, if only Joe and Sally could talk!“ You, the reader, perceive something the character doesn’t. That disconnect is dramatic irony, and it’s what keeps those pages turning long after you ought to be starting dinner for the kids.
It doesn’t even have to end with the conversation between Joe and Sally that solves the murder. The trick to keeping the tension going is to add another conflict along with each resolution--sometimes two or three other conflicts, some that are resolved with the next character switch, and some that are resolved much, much later in the story. It becomes a many layered thing, drawing the reader deeper and deeper into the story.
The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan is the first story that comes to mind when I think about this kind of writing. The man was the master of head hopping. There’s also The Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R, Martin, almost anything by Maeve Binchy, and if you’re into military type stuff, The Hunt for Red October by Tom Clancy is supposed to be an absolutely great multiple POV novel. (I haven’t read it yet, to my eternal shame.)
So, would any of these novels and series even be worth reading if the authors restricted their narrative to one character’s perspective? The authors are pretty good, so the answer is probably yes. The stories, however, would certainly lose much of their tension and complexity. In fact, each novel would probably change beyond recognition given the impossibility of telling the stories from so many different settings within their respective worlds. The authors would have to compensate by simplifying the plot so the novel wouldn’t suffer from information dump-itis. (Never, ever fun.)
It’s dramatic irony that moves the plots in these books. It’s what makes them worth reading. If they were written from a single character’s perspective, they would lose that dramatic irony and thus become completely different stories. And THAT, kids, is what tells us what is missing from all these recently published books.
So, in glorious conclusion (or something): A single character POV, isn’t it ironic? The answer is no, it usually isn’t.* At the least, single character POV is restricted to verbal and situational irony; it isn’t dramatically ironic at all.
And that’s too bad.
*Sorry Alanis, it’s also really not like rain on your wedding day. Unless, of course, your biggest fear is that it will rain on your wedding day; and you’re obsessed with the possibility, so much so that you research weather witches on the internet. You meet one and fall in love. The day of your wedding dawns the tiniest bit overcast, so your groom to be starts to cast a spell for clear skies, just in case. But WOE and DISASTER, at the most critical moment he’s distracted by having to rescue you from a villain who kidnaps you to use your great fear as a focus to put a curse on your nuptials. The groom wins the day, the curse is averted, but the weather spell is horribly ruined. Instead of really clear skies, it’s pouring down rain when you finally walk up the aisle. Now, that’s ironic. Pretty stupid, but ironic. Yay for situational irony!**
**Oh, and bonus points if you’re telling this story from the perspective of twenty years of married bliss.
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