3 Considerations for Christians Navigating Fantasy Stories
Since our podcast on the subject of Christianity and fantasy proved to be surprisingly popular, I thought I’d set some thoughts down in writing.
It’s certainly no exaggeration to say that there’s a pronounced distrust of the fantasy genre among Christians. While it’s easy to point to Harry Potter, we could also highlight a classic like Madeleine L’Engle’s, A Wrinkle in Time—a book that’s fresh on my mind, since I’m currently reading it to my son. With its “Happy Medium” gazing into her crystal ball and its universalist overtones, the book continues to raise eyebrows.
As a general rule, Christians are comfortable with fantasy that functions as a clear gospel allegory. Think of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and The Pilgrim’s Progress. Though it’s garnered a sterling reputation among believers now, J.R.R. Tolkien’s high fantasy masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings, represents a subtler reflection on the Christian journey. Tolkien himself grew cagey when critics tried to read his Catholicism into his books. Similarly, the later installments in The Chronicles of Narnia don’t map as neatly onto the biblical story and many have voiced concerns. The Last Battle in particular has sparked controversy concerning Lewis’s views on the afterlife. With this in mind, I’d like to offer three considerations for navigating fantasy stories:
1. The Use of Myth and Metaphor
In the first chapter of Fantasy: How It Works, Brian Attebery defines fantasy as “the lie that speaks the truth.” At a certain level, we all know this to be the case. Middle-earth and Narnia don’t exist. Neither do fairies, ogres, and dragons for that matter. Of course, this principle holds true for genres outside of fantasy as well. You won’t find Mayberry or Bedford Falls on any actual maps. Nevertheless, most of us wouldn’t go so far as to say that It’s a Wonderful Life is a lie. No, it’s a story and we willingly suspend our disbelief to enter into its imaginative territory. At the same time, we also cherish it for its timeless lessons on friendship and self-sacrifice. George Bailey may not be real, but the truth he discovers about the significance of an individual life is.
How does fantasy speak truth? Two of the major ways that Attebury highlights are myth and metaphor. In broad terms, myths are ways of making sense of the world and our place in it. In this sense, myths play a crucial role in structuring society, offering visions of nobility, heroism, and the good life. We could turn to a celebrated ancient figure like Odysseus, of course. In recent years, superheroes do more than entertain us; they serve as mythic role models. With our fixation on rugged individualism in North America, intrepid loners like the cowboy, the private detective, or the investigative reporter who ferret out crime and corruption largely on their own all serve a mythic function. One more potent modern myth: The notion, popular among certain atheists, that we’re cosmic orphans in a vast and indifferent universe. Proponents try to pass this off as hard realism, but it’s actually a quasi-tragic/romantic vision of humanity. I owe this insight to C.S. Lewis’s The Discarded Image.
“Metaphor is a mode of thought,” contends Attebury, “a way to comprehend new experiences in terms of older ones without claiming identity between them—even though the classic verbal formula for a metaphor looks like a statement of identity: my love is a rose, your boss is a pig, the day is on fire.” In Harry Potter, for instance, a troll is all too real. But it’s also a not-so-subtle metaphor for a bully or any kind of person who combines brute strength with a dull wit. Examples could easily be multiplied. Fantasy is a treasure trove (see what I did there) of rich metaphors that help give color and shape to our lives.
2. Fantastic Magic vs. Real Magic
So what singles fantasy out as uniquely threatening? Why do we celebrate a character like George Bailey, but furrow our brows at Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Meg Murry (the heroine in A Wrinkle In Time)? In a word, it has a lot to do with those dragons, ogres, and fairies. Magic is an indelible part of fantasy and Christians are understandably wary of it.
Scripture is filled with admonitions against practicing magic, but the most comprehensive list is in Deuteronomy 18:10-11. In the New Testament, there’s a dramatic scene that involves converts chucking all of their occult contraband onto a massive bonfire (Acts 19:19). What’s clear is that the practice of magic is intimately connected with Satanic forces.
The biggest difference between Scripture and works of fantasy, however, is that the Bible claims to be a true account of reality. Since fantasy stories are straightforwardly fictional, it makes sense tom modify our views on the magic presented in the context of their stories. I’d argue that this is part of the “willing suspension of disbelief” that Samual Taylor Coleridge famously commends. The magic taking place in Middle-earth or Narnia is not the same as what happens at an actual seance or a black mass. This is not to suggest that fictional depictions of spells and magic are neutral. Indeed, they can paint a captivating vision that warrants caution. I am arguing, however, that there’s a difference not in degree, but in kind when it comes to fictional depictions of magic. There’s a world of difference between Gandalf in Middle-earth and a Shaman in the Rainforest.
Of course, there is no universal approach to magic in fantasy stories. We all have differing thresholds and levels of sensitivity. Parents of young children in particular will have to rely on discernment when it comes to these fantastical depictions. It’s worth looking into the etymology of discernment: The word comprises two things, namely, insight and discrimination. Insight allows us to see into the heart of the matter—to determine, for instance, that the Happy Medium of A Wrinkle In Time bears only a superficial resemblance to the fortune teller down the street. Discrimination consists in the ability to make those key distinctions. In a word, to say “this” and “not this.”
3. Virtue and Vice
The key question remains: Is this a story in which vice or virtue is extolled? Imagine a retelling of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe that presented Queen Jadis (the White Witch) as a kind of Nietzschean hero or übermensch. In this case, we would confront a story that extolls vice—a story that calls evil good and good, evil. To be sure, this dynamic isn’t limited to fantasy (think of the compelling depictions of criminals like Tony Soprano, Tony Montana, and Don Corleone), but it can be harmful whenever and wherever it shows up, painting a bewitching portrait of the pursuit of naked power.
It goes without saying that this is a complex topic and this brief article has only skimmed the surface. Nevertheless, these three broad principles can be useful as we navigate the world of fantasy with an alert Christian conscience:
● Fantasy makes use of mythic tropes and rich metaphors to help us make sense of human experience and our place in the world
● There’s a sharp distinction between fantastical depictions of magic and actual occult practices
● The key question is whether the story in question extolls virtue or vice
If you want to dive deeper into Christian engagement with the fantasy genre, I’d recommend heading over to the folks at Lorehaven.