One of the coolest things about fantasy (and there’s a
sentence that before HBO’s gore and shag-a-thon, Game of Thrones, would have
never been written) is the wide variety of how magic is perceived in the genre.
There’s a deluge of articles about designing magic systems and ensuring logic
and coherency, but I won’t reiterate those here. Suffice it to say that magic
is one of those things that if you write badly, and use as a continual ‘deux e
machina’ (or, I suppose, pulling a rabbit out of the hat) then it’ll bugger
your book in the manner of a horny troll with a tub of Vaseline +2.
I enjoy magic in fantasy books, I think it gives it a
texture and a richness that no other genre can match, and I also enjoy the
different styles of incorporating it, in the same way that I love Dark Fantasy
as much as epic or heroic. Before you think this is an Aldi advert, let’s start
delving around different ways of writing sorcery.....
For me, as a kid, I began reading fantasy mainly due to my
interest in DnD. The magic system in DnD is obviously designed around the
wargaming origins of the game, having your magic users learning spells from
their list, being allowed to cast so many before they become dagger wielding
softies. The concept was that the magic had a verbal part, a material part, and
a learned way of wiggling your hips as you did it. Gary Gygax, former master of
my universe, drew much of his inspiration from Jack Vance, and the Dying World
series. Certainly in the first book—The Dying Earth—which is a collection of
short stories, that style of magic is apparent. In those works spells are
learned, and then once cast are erased from the ‘working memory’ until
relearned. There is a wonderful concept in ‘Turjan of Mir’ wherein the words
themselves seem to carry the power:
‘He stared down at the characters and they burned with an
urgent power, pressing off the page as if frantic to leave the dark solitude of
the book. Turjan closed the book, forcing the spell back into oblivion.’
‘He then sat down and from a journal chose the spells he
would take with him. What dangers he might meet he could no know, so he
selected three spells of general application: The Excellent Prismatic Spray,
Phandal’s Mantle of Stealth, and the Spell of the Slow Hour.’
Many works (including mine) have drawn their influence from
DnD and hence from the ‘Vancian’ system. The obvious ones are those like
Dragonlance, which was originated in an awesome DnD campaign, and so has
Raistlin (at least in the original trilogy) learning spells and being knackered
every time he casts... Featherfall...(Ok, so he got a bit harder when he hit
level 12 in the finale). Other authors, such as the excellent Gary Vanucci,
emulates the fast paced combat style of DnD magic in the Ashenclaw series—where
the magic compliments the sword-craft perfectly. Gary’s work has been compared
to RA Salvatore, although I haven’t read what style of magic Salvatore uses.
The throwaway style of sorcery lends itself perfectly to
gaming, and one book I read recently that was influenced by on-line/RPG gaming
was Connie Jasperson’s two books, The Tower of Bones, and the Forbidden Road.
Connie takes the concepts in a different direction. The magic in her world is
fuelled by Chi, like a life-force, and the sorcerers/priests who wield it, use
it for either healing or for manipulating elements. Their approach is utterly
scientific, and they study it as a science rather than an art—rationalising how
to improve it, and manipulate it in unique ways. The healing in the book reads
like a medical manual (which naturally, I loved!!!). And why not? Why wouldn’t
magic in a fantasy world become like a science, in a strange parody of how in
history events now rationalised by science were probably regarded as
witchcraft.
There’s so many cool systems! Moorcock’s books have a magic
wherein its practitioners constantly bargain with demons and gods of
chaos/order to manipulate reality. Le Guin’s Earthsea books have a tried and
tested formula of objects in the world having ‘true names,’ which carry power
when utilised. I suspect she was the first to utilise this in popular fantasy,
although Paolini used a duplicate system in Eragon and those other dragon
books.
Then there’s the idea of channelling other world’s energies,
or using some other ‘place’ to fuel your sorcery. The Amber series by Zelazney
is kind of like this: after walking the Pattern, those of appropriate birth can
manipulate the reality of all things in the shadows of Amber. Another great
example is Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen series. Here we have a pocket
universe, or Warrens, which are accessed and opened by the mage to desired
effect. This is a great concept, and it works really well in the books. Oddly
what it reminded me of was the rationalisation of superpowers in the Marvel
Universe’s Guides—so, when Cyclops fires his optic blasts his eyes are tapping
into another dimension and acting as a conduit.
Which neatly brings me to my own style—which is unashamedly
super-heroic in origin. In Nurolia, there is elemental magic, which comes
naturally to the elemental races’ mages, and via use of Gems of Power and lots
of lessons in humans; and there is Wild-magic, which is psychic in origin (so
telekinesis, telepathy, pyromancy, but used in quite creative ways). The ‘evil’
magic, although clearly the other magics may be used by selfish or unscrupulous
individuals, is Dark-magic, which is portrayed in the books as the fifth
element.
When I designed Wild-magic I had a concept in my head
similar to mutants in the Marvel X-men series. I liked the idea that the
ability could occur at random, and what impact that would have on normal folk
in a fantasy world. In the same vein as mutants being feared and despised,
Wild-mages are ostracised and persecuted by the Elemental Orders, and this
alienation is compounded by the fact that Wild-magic produces problems with the
mind, either psychological (Jem’s OCD, Emelia’s bipolar disorder, Lemonbite’s
schizophrenia) or neurological (I don’t want to spoil who, for readers of the
series). I also liked the fast-paced angle of superpowers in the comics, and
wanted that recreated in my rather televisual style of writing. The finale to
book three, in the temple in Ssinthor, where the heroes scrap with the zealot,
has a very fast-paced use of magic which I hope works.
I still couldn’t get away from some magic tropes, though.
Elemental magic still needs a source (the Gems), words and gestures. Hence
mages are held captive with special masks and manacles, or via an elixir that
suppresses their sorcery (Pure Water, from Goldoria). The idea of items acting
as conduits, or power sources, is another well established magic system. Brooks’
Shannara series uses items and artefacts to great effect; games such as Final
Fantasy and Skyrim use soul gems etc; the One Ring in LOTR; RA Salvatore’s
Demon Apostle, and the gemstone magic; Joshua Bigger’s hard-hitting fantasy,
Dark’s Daughter, Hope with its gems and extension of eastern chakra mysticism.
Even good old Harry Potter has magical items galore—the Philosopher’s Stones,
the Deadly Hallows, the thingies that He With No Nose sticks part of his soul
in....
There are so many and so little space before the reader
dozes off. Magic can be present in a fantasy world, but not be especially in
your face like my lightning tossing, Wild-magic shielding characters use. The
obvious examples are ‘realistic’ fantasy, such as George RR Martin’s Song of
Ice and Fire (or is it Fire and Ice...?). In George’s world, the magic is more
subtle—the shadow monster thingy that bumped Renly off after popping out of Melisandre’s
foo; the worgs and their animal body skipping (skinchanging?); resurrection,
with poor old Beric Dondarrion held together with masking tape; those dudes
with the blue lipstick, who pop up in the market despite being toasted by
dragons. For his realistic setting, it works very well, and this subtle use of
magic fits dark fantasy perfectly (such as the awesome Scott Lynch’s Lies of
Locke Lamora), as well as lighter fantasy such as the Farseer trilogy by Robin
Hobb (the Wit and the Word—lots of mind influencing, animal possession, and so
on).
The final quote on magic in fantasy—let’s stick with
Georgie...
“Sorcery is a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to
grasp it.”
So what’s your favourite magic system in fantasy? I haven’t
read WOT by Robert Jordan, or Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson, but by all
accounts they rock big-style on the magic front. For me, I think the cleverest
was Erikson’s—it had a maturity and originality that fitted perfectly with the
intricate tone of his books.
But I still like the idea of two mages zapping the crap out
of each other like medieval superheroes... I can’t help it!!!!
