Magic & Fantasy Races (Q&A 4)

Before we proceed with this week's Q&A, it's my duty to announce that my December carryover work has been nearly finished. Aside from a loan I had to take in order to cover the Apple Pencil 2 purchase, everything is in good shape and I anticipate February to be far more productive with regards to Origins. My Gumroad store is now also back online.

Also I'm gonna draw Lili from TEKKEN.

Q: You mentioned you weren't a fan of conventional implementation of magic in most fantasy settings. Why do you despise magic so much? Is magic in Origins going to be more akin to the Force in Star Wars?

A: By 'conventional implementation' I am assuming you mean magic in works such as The Lord of the Rings, since much of what we contemporarily associate with high fantasy is strongly derivative of Tolkien's writing. Tolkien is obviously responsible for the elves being the slender, aloof snobs that live for thousands of years, the orcs being the crude muscular brutes we all know and love and the dwarves being... you get the idea. Different iterations of high fantasy have, over the years, put their own twists on these tropes and it is possible to make something fresh and exciting using Tolkien's template. In Dragon Age: Origins you have the Darkspawn instead of the orcs, in Dungeon Siege II there are the Morden, the D&D orcs are obviously green and don't necessarily serve Sauron or anyone like him. Then you have The Legend of Zelda, which does away without most of the Tolkien races and opts for their own counterparts; the Hylians, the Gorons, the Zora and so on.

Now there is absolutely nothing wrong with having your setting be populated by all sorts of whimsical fantasy creatures; I think there's point to be made that it helps us sever the connection to reality, furthering our immersion. After all, a world which mirrors reality is much harder to buy as its own separate entity compared to ours; you might as well resort to writing firmly on the terms of historical fiction. Hell, play your hand well and you might have an easier time finding a publisher for your epic alternate history Roman Empire, only with blackjack and dragons. Just do some research beforehand, so you don't end up writing about centurions who lead groups of exactly a hundred soldiers each. (Centurions actually lead groups of about 60 to 80 men).

So if I dislike magic so much, if I am not that big a fan of fantasy races, what is the point of my story taking place in a fictional setting, even? Well... the answer is, I don't dislike magic, or fantasy races. I just think they're often not as well implemented as they could've been. I don't like overt depictions of magic primarily as a means of making characters feel 'badass'. To me, there is nothing remarkable about having my protagonist be imbued with some poorly defined abilities that allow them to channel fire or lightning, or a whole other variety of Photoshop filters.  I think The Lord of the Rings actually handles magic well with regards to things like the Sting, which glows blue in the presence of the Orcs, or the magical rope and the like. Anything with firm, practical applications. On the other hand, magic serving primarily as a means of alleviating a person's otherwise lackluster strength is what I take issue with. For instance, in many settings, sorcerers are by far the most powerful beings in the universe, by no other means than because they possess power that was either bestowed on them, or because they've studied some ancient tomes and unraveled the mysteries of how magic operates in their world. Or maybe they're demigods themselves and thus their access to such powers is merely an extension of their godlike status; a natural manifestation of who they are. In either case, it's easy to get carried away with the scope of possibilities and limitations that such a character should have, but usually doesn't. 

While well written magic can serve as a metaphor for something that as an audience we find relatable, it's equally easy to alienate the reader just by throwing too much, without an analogue in the real world. A good (and relatable) character works better if their drama stems from something we as an audience can identify with. This is why movies like Rocky are so compelling to watch; the vast majority of us could care less about boxing, but the principles behind being a good boxer are easy to understand. On the other hand, the requirements for becoming a good magician are much more complicated and without a well fleshed out groundwork can be downright implausible. More often than not, I think the author bequeaths said powers to call the audience's attention to somebody; the relevant character is bathed in the limelight of 'magic', and as such, they can do whatever they want with them. It makes it so that the figure in question is defined by their powers, rather than their personality.

Another issue lies in the ramifications of magic in fictional settings. Because of how ill-defined it often is, I find it hard to wrap my head around what can a magically inclined character do, which takes me out of the experience. Movies like Star Wars, though, keep magic simple enough that I've no trouble believing in it. Much of what the Force can do is also left up to speculation (at least in the original three films), which gave the fans something to think about and discuss. When it does come to the forefront, like when Luke confronts the Emperor, the actual mechanics of the Force have no real meaning on the encounter itself. We know the Emperor is capable of destructive power, but the degree to which that is relevant to the story doesn't harm the viewer's immersion; Palpatine being powerful is merely a storytelling tool.

That said, I like the idea of magic being an extension of what can an individual already do extremely well, thanks to the influence of the supernatural. Things like moving objects with your mind will usually stretch my suspension of disbelief, but being able to jump very high, for instance, seems plausible enough. The ability to revert the consequences of a particularly bad wound, while wondrous, is also plausible enough, since medicine in real life accomplishes the same thing. It's also one of those things I can see being looked up on with reverence in a more grounded fantasy setting, where healing magic can exist alongside medicine as a branch of science.

I also like the idea of magic being heavily tempered by significant trade-offs. I've never played tabletop Dungeons & Dragons but I've played my fair share of Neverwinter Nights and I've always loved how, aside from a few very powerful things at their disposal, the casters in that game are utterly useless. Wearing armor, for instance, incites you with a major penalty to spellcasting, you have substantially fewer hit points than any other character. You also need to rest before you can use those two or three powerful spells again. In a world like Neverwinter, being a mage is almost a liability from a practical standpoint.

I am still torn on the exact mechanics of magic in Origins but do rest assured that the key word here is 'subtle.' The way that magic is portrayed in Star Wars, or 'the Force', is probably the most apt point of comparison, though even the Force itself is derivative of the East Asian concept of Ki, so I suppose that's where we should go.

That'll be all for today. Now that I can pour more resources into my comic, I'm going to spend some time reading and revisiting my older sources of inspiration. If anyone's curious, some of the titles on my reading list include Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces, A Song of Ice and Fire and whatever I can find on Scandinavian mythology. It'll be a busy year.

I'm also going to play through The Longest Journey (1999).