Bittercon: It's so Magical to be Homeless! The Romance of Urban Fantasy

[intertext]

This is really a lot of open questions and food for thought than a fully developed thesis. It just struck me, in my - admittedly somewhat limited - experience of urban fantasy, that the "urban" in "urban" seemed to reflect a somewhat limited and romanticized view of the "street."

Just to put my thoughts into a context here, my exposure to urban fantasy rests mostly on Charles De Lint, most of whose works I have read, Emma Bull, Will Shetterly and Neil Gaiman, whose Neverwhere I include in the genre. I would, or could, also include Justine Larbalestier's "Magic" trilogy and there are one or two others that I have forgotten. Amongst Emma Bull's work, I have read and enjoyed both War for the Oaks and her and Will Shetterly's Borderland novels, and my comments and questions here relate to all of those.

Anyway, it seemed that among these works, there is a common sympathy for and interest in the marginal, the scruffy, the downtrodden. Not that this group is in any way undeserving of sympathy or interest, but it struck me that these works definitely downplay the disadvantages of life among the disadvantaged and - yes - romanticize life for the homeless and the income-deprived. What I wonder is, is this some intrinsic part of a greater literary tradition? Are the authors riffing on folk-tales, whose heroes, if not princesses, tend to be clever thieves, disadvantaged or displaced innocents and so on? In some ways, what I'm asking is whether in fact this is the opposite side of the "Fantasy of Manners" coin - Fantasy of Bohemian Manners?

Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere is the only somewhat anomalous example - its hero, if I remember, is an average guy who gets lost in a strange alternate or parallel world. And as far as that goes, I guess it's not really "about" magic or fantasy in an every-day urban setting. Does anyone write about magic among the stockbrokers? Or ER, except with magic?

Anyway - that's my pitch. Any thoughts?

Comments

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

A great example of the "runaway" theme turned on it's head is Garth Nix's Shade's Children. It deftly discusses issues not only of trauma, death, and those pesky coming-of-age hormones, but also explores TONS of other issues in a disturbing way. It's one of my favorite books, with "heroes" who are a far cry from perfect, indeed a far cry from adults, and there is very little romanticising - I suppose that's kind of an oxymoron considering it's sf, and has a romantic element to it. Although written for young adults, there are scenes in that book that will stay with me forever.

[pdlloyd.livejournal.com]

Another example of fantasy in an urban setting is Tim Powers' Fault Lines trilogy, which I've just finished reading. While his work is so unique as to practically defy categorization, I think his use of myth and magic in an urban setting justifies mention.

**spoiler alert**
In one of these books, when a young boy, Koot Hoomie Pargana, known unfortunately as Kootie, breaks a revered statue and runs away from home, he unintentionally sets off a chain of events that has him running for his life, with no home to return to; his parents have been gruesomely murdered, as Kootie discovered when he tried to return home after one night on his own, and now the murderer wants Kootie, too. During his adventures, he encounters a panhandler who lives out of his car and takes Kootie under his wing in large part because Kootie's presence means his panhandling will be more effective. He uses Kootie, but is not abusive of him. However, when he discovers that there is a reward out for Kootie's return, he immediately wants to cash in, even though Kootie has told him his life will be in danger if he is turned in.

Nothing about this scenario comes across to me as romanticization of the homeless setting. Kootie's erstwhile protector is not vicious, but he is a drug addict and his only real loyalty is to himself. Kootie is frightened, battered (beaten up by other kids, bleeding from a wond that won't heal), hungry, desperate, knows he's being used and willing to be used just to stay alive, traumatized by having seen his parents' dead bodies, and having strange experiences of a mystical nature that he doesn't understand.

Another interesting aspect of these novels is Powers' depiction of ghosts. In this world, ghosts that stay tied to this world can begin to become solid, by eating bits of trash, pebbles, and other things lying around. As they accrete substance, they grow to look like homeless people and are, by and large, the only depiction of the anonymous homeless one finds in these books. By depicting the homeless in this way, as pathetic and ineffectual ghosts who exist by eating trash, Powers makes, I think, a point about how we view the homeless in the Real World, as worthless nothings who are little more than trash. I should point out that I probably would never have made this connection without this discussion. I think the connection, while vivid, is actually done quite subtly.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

The depiction of Ghosts sounds really neat! It reminds me of "no face" from Spirited Away when he eats all the people and becomes progressively more ill and "evil".