Most people are familiar with the standard fantasy paperback: It appears to be a cheaply-printed book, with glossy covers featuring a scantily clad female barbarian felling dragons, or epic battles on the back of bear cavalry. Y’know, impossible things. That’s what makes it fantasy.
On the other side of the store, however, tucked in the Fiction and Literature section, are books often referred to as “magical realism.” Like a realistic book about life in a New York apartment, except the narrator can talk to pigeons and there are trolls in the subway. You may read this book and think, “Why isn’t this in the fantasy section?”
There is, of course, a clear difference between fantasy and magical realism. Fantasy functions, primarily, on a suspension of disbelief: you walk into a work of fantasy knowing nothing in it is real e.g. it’s nothing like the world we live in.
Magical realism, on the other hand, relies on fantastical elements employed in a realistic (if not real) world. One of the most famous examples is Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” Toni Morrison’s “Beloved,” an otherwise straightforward slave narrative, prominently features ghosts. Author Haruki Murakami’s work takes contemporary Japan—by his estimation a rather strait-laced and dull place—and enlivens it with talking cats, otherworldly hotels and heroic 6-foot frogs. Günter Grass’s The Tin Drum takes World War II Germany and filters it through the eye of a self-willed, 3-foot-tall dwarf drummer. Even Henry James, a devotee to societal drama, wrote ghost stories.
When I bring these distinctions up, it’s not with the purpose of tearing down the barrier between these two or exposing the “lie” of magical realism. Rather, I submit that fantasy and magical realism are two separate genres. They do, however, share many common characteristics, as well as under-appreciated nuances.
Magical realism, while it attempts to eschew the fantasy label, contains more fantasy than it cares to admit. Traditionally, writers of this genre take fantastic elements and weave them into realistic narratives, sometimes with the intention of stating something new about a particular situation, sometimes with the intention of making a political critique. It is, if nothing else, an interesting way to conceive a world. But the magical elements are always presented as something real e.g. not fantasy, not fake. However, at the end of the day, these fantasy holdovers are fantasy, and no matter of detached irony or blasé will change that.
Fantasy, of course, does not have this same realistic ballast as magical realism. There’s no New York City anywhere. Authors often start from scratch when making worlds and plot lines—which include fantastical elements. If a fantasy author wants magic, they just need to know how to explain it. They’re making most (if not everything) up.
You would think this distinguishes fantasy from magical realism, perhaps even clearly marks the demarcation. But people who advocate/admire magical realism (in lieu of fantasy) don’t make the observation that fantasy novels/stories are real, in the context of the story. Everything that happens between the covers of a fantasy novel happens in the world of the story. The characters don’t often get the same suspension of disbelief as the reader—what’s happening to them is real. Our magic is their realism.
In some cases fantasy novels can have almost luridly real worlds. Remember J.R.R. Tolkein, who wrote an entire language, entire races and entire worlds for his narrative. Terry Pratchett’s “Discworld” series thrives off the principle of a fully-fleshed world wherein all manner of antics, pathos, drama, and action occur.
I’m not suggesting fantasy has gotten the short end of the stick, whereas magical realism has acquired all the respect due to fantasy. And I’m not suggesting fantasy is an inherently superior genre compared to magical realism. There’s a lot of bad fantasy works out there (written by bad [and inexplicably rich] authors). There’s a lot of bad magical realism too. But no matter how you cut it, magical realism and fantasy employ much of the same technique and style when it comes to writing narratives.
Do you think the blurry genre line between books like “The Lord of the Rings” and “Harry Potter” warrants more dissucsion? Ask Sean for clarification at sreichard@wisc.edu.
