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

[kgbooklog.livejournal.com]

I think what you're seeing may be a combination of high fantasy's "shepherd with Special Powers and/or Secret Birthright" and hard-boiled mystery's acknowledgment that street people exist in the first place. Mind you, I haven't really noticed such a trend myself; the only books I've read that dealt much with the homeless were Lindholm's Wizard of the Pigeons and Lindskold's Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls, and neither seemed the least bit romanticized.

Does anyone write about magic among the stockbrokers? Or ER, except with magic?

I can name two different werewolves who own security companies, and any vampire (who isn't recently undead) can be expected to have a wide and varied stock portfolio (if not an actual financial empire). Cops, PIs, and auto mechanics are also popular occupations for the supernatural.

[gillpolack.livejournal.com]

I sometimes suspect that a lot of women's fiction and chicklit is urban fantasy. Less gritty and more females around, basically, with love interest.

[squirrel-monkey.livejournal.com]

Part of it, I think, is the attempt to assuage the guilt of the affluent when faced with the homeless -- if we imbue them with magical powers, cast them as protectors of our comfortable existence, then we don't have to feel bad for them or DO anything about it.

At the same time, from a writer's POV, it IS convenient to have a character who can operate on the fringes of the society, who doesn't have a job to go back to and can be portrayed as free from mundane concerns of mortgage and money.

[forthright.livejournal.com]

I agree, absolutely. I don't read a lot of urban fantasy these days, but the most recent place I've seen it is in Cory Doctorow's Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town, which I remarked to curtana reads like what would happen if someone dared Doctorow to write a Charles de Lint novel.

I don't know whether Neverwhere constitutes that much of an exception, since, while the protagonist is middle-class, many of the 'others' he encounters are homeless or 'street' in their 'real-world' incarnations.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Well, the characters in the books I mention are not all homeless, necessarily, though most of the young people in the Borderlands books are run-aways. They live in squats and eke an existence by working part time.

I haven't read Lindholm's Wizard of the Pigeons, but isn't it one of the pretty much canonical urban fantasy texts?

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Yes, and there's a pretty small collection of what could be called "fantasy chick lit" by the likes of Mercedes Lackey, that could also be termed "urban fantasy" but lacks the "street" cred of some of the other novels.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Well, in the books I'm talking about, often the poor alcoholic street person mumbling to himself is portrayed as being a faery in disguise, or in the state he is because he's been bewitched.

It may be true that some of the traditions of bewitchment come from an attempt to explain mental illness or general inability to cope with "real life" - but these works are being written in today's world, where we know about the "real" explanation for such phenomena. So what's the fascination? And is it a kind of blinkered wish-fulfillment to portray them thus?

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Yes, good points.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

I'd say that yes, it is a blinkered wish-fulfillment. If the downtrodden are faeries, then we don't REALLY need to feel sympathy.

Then again, there are tales where characters who are kind to a person despite their appearance, are generously rewarded for "seeing past" the outward hobo appearance.

[weatherglass.livejournal.com]

Wizard of the Pigeons works so well, I think, because it sets up and then partly undercuts the romanticization. While the main character is a homeless vet, and leads something of a charmed existence as a street person--his particular power is a knack for eking out a living in the city without people noticing he's homeless--he loses his ability to blend in at one point, and life gets rapidly worse. Even early on though, it's clear that he has a very precarious existence.

[pdlloyd.livejournal.com]

Are the authors riffing on folk-tales, whose heroes, if not princesses, tend to be clever thieves, disadvantaged or displaced innocents and so on?

I think you may be hitting the nail on the head here. The strong tradition of fairy tales is one that includes a lot of sympathy for society's rejects, whether the youngest child who might be disinherited on the death of a parent of moderate to high means, the only child of a poor widow, or the simpleton.

But, I also think that most, if not all, of the authors whose urban fantasy looks at this population have a genuine interest in the homeless and dispossessed. The homelessness is just one of several themes you'll frequently see in urban fantasy. Some characters are of middle class or higher means, but find their lives trite and limiting; the encounter with magic helps to engage them in the real world again. Another very common trope is that of the abused child. The story may center around the child at any age and, depending upon the age, the issue may be one of several different tropes. For infants or children, the focus may be rescue or punishment of abusers (typically by someone from outside, or possibly by another family member), or of the child's discovering his or her own ability to extricate themselves from an intolerable situation. For older teens or adults who are no longer trapped in the original abusive situation, the focus may be on learning how not to reengage with abusers, on forgiving the abuser, or of protecting someone left behind who is still in the relationship.

Okay, I guess I strayed rather far away from the main topic here. In this subgenre magic is often used as a metaphor for things in the real world. So, the magical outsider may be the thought or insight you've rejected, but they are also a homeless person you may have treated kindly or unkindly last week. There's a lot going on in these stories and they're not easy to categorize.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry, but I've deleted an exchange between an anonymous commenter and superfoo. I am also sorry if anyone was offended by superfoo's original comments, which remain here. They were off-topic, as I think she now realizes, but she's entitled to her opinion. I don't, however, want to allow any further discussion of off-topic issues to proliferate.

[(Anonymous)]

Yes, my comment was anonymous and off-topic (in the same way that superfoo's was), and as it's your journal you have every right to delete anything you don't want here. But, I think it's a shame that you would leave superfoo's original, off-topic, and highly objectionable post, however much he or she might say they didn't really mean it, and delete a comment which was not slanderous in any way, but a heartfelt post intended to address his comment. I don't feel your decision was fair to me, or to those engaged in this discussion.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

This is what I was attempting to say once I fully understood the topic and I fully agree. I also think in "fantasy" settings, imbuing the underdogs with special capabilities is really interesting in promoting the 'everyone is special' ideal and a crafty way of dealing with issues of poverty in fantasy worlds. Many readers probably feel a bit drawn to the "underbelly" of society (aren't we all?) and authors capitalize on this fascination and draw from mythology and fairy tales to make this work.

It's interesting that fantastical creatures choose to masquerade to be "under the radar" but readers now (at least this is my case when I read a fantasy/fairytale and an unfortunate character shows up) suspect something magical must be up. Like the beautiful nymph masquerading as an old lady in The Wife of Bath's tale. Mainly the ugly/bum approaching more fortunate characters is, in a sense, crossing an established line between "rich" and "poor". And when the person lower on the "scale" has something to offer a person in a better social position - well that just raises a whole bunch of questions about the correlation between wealth and morality, innocence and experience, etc.

Ugliness, to me and probably others, adds a certain interest to a character. It's a really interesting way of playing with binaries.

Plus, rich, beautiful, perfect characters are boring . . . unless they have something to hide. And vice versa.

I hope this was more on-topic, because I am genuinely interested in this conversation.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

I've been meaning to read it, if I can find a copy nowadays, and your comment makes it sound even more interesting.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Thanks :) yes - interesting points! You might like to wander over and read sartorias's panel on the hero and how not to make him/her a Mary Sue or whatever the male equivalent is. You'll find all the panels in the bittercon community.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

Ohh I will check those out! Thanks! I've mentioned it a few times but the novel I am in the progress of planning/writing stars characters who work in the underbelly of a post-apocalyptic/post-plague society. So this is why my interest in this is particularly avid.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

I hesitated over deleting your comments and do respect your wish and right to be heard. Perhaps the fact that you posted anonymously tipped the scales. It did occur to me to delete superfoo's comment, but perhaps my decision to leave it was coloured by the fact that she is a long time LJ friend and a friend in real life. I do recognize that her remarks might have been offensive to some (and obviously were to you) and I think she regrets them now.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

I really like the "magical outsider" idea!

The fact that someone special is really fascinating - specialness seems to be rejected or something that needs to be hidden or something that is met with scorn. In many SF/F the "special" ability or characteristic that is being shrouded by the social class of the character is something the average reader would find totally acceptable and even amazing.

The abused child is also really interesting. Intertext's icon is from deerskin, a novel she recommended to me and I LOVED, and I really, REALLY, liked the way the character had to deal with her situation, and how it hindered her and did not allow her to interact well with other human beings. She herself became a forest dweller that nobody would have suspected for a princess, and the recession into the woods was part of her healing.

That's another attraction to the "unfortunate" characters: there is often something needing to be 'healed'. The ability of characters to surmount their past, their burdens, etc. is such an empowering message to readers - ESPECIALLY young readers. Young people often escape into fantasy realms to avoid dealing with very real problems, such as abuse. What a better way to communicate directly to them but to show them their experiences are surmountable, and nothing to be ashamed of? It is a great way to deal with serious issues, too. People are more comfortable if bad things are "just a story" rather than bluntly TOLD to them. Stories and characters allow for more speculation that statements and facts.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Yes - those are very good points, thank you! The notion of the characters or situations being a metaphor for real life is of course important.

I think, though, that one way I see these novels "romanticizing" real poverty or social distress is that the protagonists rarely seem to have much difficulty getting by (or surviving for that matter). When they do get part time jobs these jobs are always in a bookstore or a funky cafe, which in real life are probably not that easy to get. If they live in a squat they might be robbed but not badly assaulted or raped - that is somewhat unlikely, too, sad to say. It seems to me that someone reading De Lint or the Borderland books might think it would be cool to be a street person. However, the message that we should be more tolerant and considerate is of course very important.

[superfoo.livejournal.com]

Yes - when social distresses are romanticized it's bothersome, for all the reasons you mentioned.

The message of tolerance and understanding, however, is paramount, and I will bring up Deerskin again. For people who have not experienced the horror of abuse, this book can really illuminate the distress (to put it lightly) that abuse victims can feel. It also shows that escape from a situation and healing are both lengthy processes, and the permanent change of the main character shows that once terrible things happen, people are changed. Physical transformation (the visual "rags to riches" or "old hag" to "smokin' sexpot") are important as well - they visually mark a character's purpose, or landmark their journey. Such as when the main character of Deerskin's (I can't remember her name right now) hair changes colour after she experiences trauma.

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

It's not always that simple. In the Borderlands books, for instance, *both* the faery and human characters are mostly young runaways, and both sets are well-rounded enough to deserve the reader' sympathy.

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

It's excellent.

She has magical street people. But she also points out that their existence is not like that of most street people.

I think Holly Black and Grant Morrison also do some fairly unglamorous street people.

Another, linked trope to the romanticized homeless person is the Artist With No Visible Means of Support. Who always seems to have a job waiting tables, but it never, you know, cramps her style.

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

True in a lot of cases, though I think de Lint did get better about it (on the other hand a lot of his Newford books blend together, which makes it hard to give you a specific example).

But one good counterexample is Neverwhere - no one (unless entirely desperate) would want to run away to become a rat person! Ont the other hand the characters in London Beneath who are doing well are the ones who are not homeless, like Door.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

That hair change thing is a common trope--another time you see it is in the 1960s-era Chinese opera-ballet "The White-haired Girl" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_White_Haired_Girl)--or Valjean in Les Miserables--his hair goes white overnight.