
What can or should fantasy do as a genre? This is something I’ve asked myself many times. And it’s something that came up when I read Jonny Thompson’s “Why Tolkien thought ‘sub-creation’ was the secret to great fantasy and science fiction.”
I thought Thompson’s article makes a fair point that fantasy as a genre has been looked down upon as not being serious compared to literary fiction and magical realism.
On Sub-Creation
Thompson first point about the value of fantasy hinged on the concept of sub-creation (noted as coming from Tolkien). Sub-creation is the idea that fantasy stories can create rich worlds that readers can inhabit. I find myself wondering about this aspect of fantasy when I read modern fantasy stories that seem more concerned with maintaining an action-packed pace than rendering a truly immersive world.
Are popular tastes in favor of non-stop action and adventure dooming the ability of fantasy storytellers to truly achieve sub-creation?
Maybe this is why so much of fantasy seems centered in worlds pretty similar to medieval Europe (Martin’s Game of Thrones, at least the Westeros part), ancient Japan (Wang’s Sword of Kaigen), ancient Rome (Islington’s Will of the Many or Kristoff’s Nevernight). Such worlds’ depiction is likely made easier to accomplish by leveraging readers’ prior knowledge (less time taken away from all that delicious action and adventure).
And yet I can’t help but worry. Is taking this approach exchanging one problem for another?
Considering the Human Condition
Thompson then turns to Tolkien’s thoughts on Beowulf, making the argument that Beowulf as a story is powerful because it reflects the human condition, spanning from “youth and age,” “success and failure,” “glory and doom.” Thomson also mentions “[t]he brilliance in Beowulf, and in fantasy generally, is in the monsters or villains they provide—in the orcs, dragons, monsters, or cruel emperors. Because these foes are imaginary, they serve as empty vessels into which we each pour our own nemeses.”
While there is certainly value in working out our own conflicts through story (or setting them aside and experiencing the struggles of others through story), I find Thompson’s point about sub-creation at odds with this point about experiencing imaginary antagonists. Can we fully inhabit a world that “feels” imaginary? I suspect storytellers must walk a delicate line between both, creating a world rich enough for readers to inhabit and yet distant enough for them to work out their issues.
Not an easy task.
In speaking of Beowulf, Thompson also mentions how such stories through “words and plot” as well their “atemporality” can “tell us that there is something universal to the human condition that ought to be celebrated.”

I’d say that such stories give readers a window into another culture and world, revealing what makes a hero in that world. This can be both entertaining to behold and interesting to reflect upon. How does the hero of Beowulf compare to what would make a hero in our own worlds, where true heroes seem so few and far between?
I guess what I’m saying is that I disagree that fantasy stories are purely universal. I think each culture is unique as its hero stories, and when done well, they resonate most within their own cultures—but still have something to share with outlanders coming from without.
Escapism a Virtue?
To finish up his article (and my response), Thompson addresses fantasy’s value in terms of escapism. I agree that it can be quite liberating to leave our world of cares to experience another world. But such escapes can also be like leaving one’s house, thinking nothing of it, and then returning that night, appreciating anew the comforts of home after a long, trying day. Such bursts of perspective help us to understand—and appreciate—our own worlds better. And this is something fantasy can provide.
But this isn’t all that fantasy can provide. For me a fantasy writer should be concerned with more than just providing readers with an escape. Fantasy writers need to be thinking of how they can give readers something to think about, a talisman to help them better understand and deal with their own world—which can emerge by escaping AND seeing the world through new eyes, the eyes of the others they experience in a fantasy world they’ve sub-created.
In this way, fantasy serves as an escape, a window into another world, but also as a mirror, reflecting back on the readers world and helping them to see things in a new way. Yet achieving this dual purpose is hard, requiring both the art of sub-creation and an eye for how to use that world to reflect back on the “real world” in a way that leaves readers changed.
I’ll say it again, not easy task.
I’d like to thank Jonny Thomson for starting a conversation and giving me a chance to let my curiosity run wide. I’m wondering about your thoughts. What are some values you find in fantasy as a genre? What could and should it do? Sound off in the comments—and maybe link to other articles that got you thinking.
Want to Do Something with This Food for Thought?
If you’d like to do more than just think about these ideas and instead read a fantasy book that creates a world rich enough for sub-creation and that has both important messages and interesting cultures where the definition of a hero might be a little different from your own, check out my middle-high fantasy novel The Quartermastra.
* Title image credit: siilikas9 / Wikimedia