IS FANTASY EVEN A GENRE?

IS FANTASY EVEN A GENRE?

You’ve probably encountered many words in English, where you thought: “Sure, I know what that means.” And you do, but some words stay a bit more obscure than others. If I say “tree”, you know exactly what I’m talking about, and even if I say something somewhat more abstract, like “wealth”, you have a good grasp. It means you have lots of money, a nice car. Maybe lots of cows, which is an almost universal symbol of wealth among us humans. But when I say “fantasy”, you probably say: “Sure, I know what that is.” And yet you probably also feel a bit disconnected from the word. Unless you like fantasy literature. But that is maybe part of the problem.

Fantasy comes from the Ancient Greek word “phantasma”, which fundamentally means “imagination, appearance, or making visible”. It comes from the word “phaino”, which means “to shine or appear” fundamentally linking this idea to light and imagery that can be detected by our eyes. The eye is the “light of the body”, after all, the window into the soul. So “phantasma” is the foundation for such words as phantom, which we still use sometimes, and is the old Greek word for ghost (think of “The Phantom Menace”). Here it refers to something like a hallucination, something appearing in your vision; an image that you can see, which either isn’t or shouldn’t be real, which is why it is easily attributed to an over-active imagination, or phantasma. Fantasy.

Fantasy can, if we really want to know what it means, simply be used as a synonym with “imagination”. So if you like “fantasy stories”, you like a particular kind of imaginative story. Now the one thing that I really find sad is that the word “fantasy” has lost the broader meaning of imagination, and has been turned into a genre for the sake of making marketing easier. The word has been monopolized and reduced, and because of that, our understanding of imagination has been fragmented and in part stolen from us. It makes sense, sure. It’s useful, if you want to reach a specific wedge on the pie chart of the population. But I don’t like it. The reason I don’t like it is this:

It reduces our ability to perceive how all literature is imaginative (or not). It reduces our ability to see how all words are imaginative.

Within the realm of fiction in general, using your imagination, the ability to conjure an image of something in your mind, whether based on history or not, is key. You have to be able to imagine the thing described in the words of the literary work you are reading, regardless of its label or title. Even if you are sitting together at work, exchanging stories of the past week with your co-workers, these words translate into the imagery of our individual fantasies; of our individual imaginations. By thinking of fantasy as imagination, rather than as a genre of entertainment, we begin to gain an active awareness of something that is fundamentally human, and that is important for doing anything in this world well. By thinking of fantasy as imagination it becomes an important tool in our toolbox for getting things done, not just with bare necessity, but with command and mastery of our field. This is how fantasy ties into art; into masterful craft.

Imagination, fantasy, is necessary for visualizing, for dreaming about what it is that you want to call forth out of the world in front of you. What is it that you want to built up? What is it that you want to destroy? You may begin by finding a word or a phrase to answer these questions. But as soon as you are asked “How?” you will begin to use the instrumentarium of your imagination, of your fantasy. Your thoughts will stretch out of your mind, and they will visually rearrange the world you know, to see how your desire might be achieved; a desire that can be governed by both good and evil forces.

This makes imagination the single most powerful tool a man has, when it comes to getting definition for his plans in the world, and it makes the shape and style of his imagination equally important. In order for men to channel their imagination, they have to train it. They have to inform it. In bygone times, and even today, there were and are schools for this. Some are better than others. It is my intention to help shape the imagination of those that engage with my work, by reminding them of truly ideal principles when it comes to imagining things.

I don’t want men, who are more easily governed by what they see, to succumb to a corruption of their fantasy. I want us, through virtuous examples, to build up our imagination, to channel it in ways that build up our world, and serve our neighbour. In this way, in as far as it is given me, I want to help shape imagery in our minds that sanctifies our imaginations.