Why There is No Jewish Narnia

But the supernatural does not itself define fantasy literature, which is a more specific genre. It emerged in Victorian England, and its origins are best understood as one of a number of cultural salvage projects that occurred in an era when modern materialism and Darwinism seemed to drive religious faith from the field. Religion’s capacity for wonder found a haven in fantasy literature.

The experience of wonder, of joy and delight on the part of the reader, has long been recognized as one of the defining characteristics of the genre. This wonder is connected with a world, with a place of magic, strangeness, danger, and charm; and whether it is called Perelandra, Earthsea, Amber, or Oz, this world must be a truly alien place. As Ursula K. Leguin says: “The point about Elfland is that you are not at home there. It’s not Poughkeepsie.”

He offers several answers (1) Jews tend to exclude both magic and Dark Lords from their theology and folk tales, unlike Christian folk tales, which are replete with them, and magic and evil are the standard tropes of fantasy; (2) The Holocaust was too horrific to allow for the escapism and wonder, the standard theme of fantasy, to have much hold on the Jewish imagination; (3) Jews suffered in medieval Europe, so tales of knighthood and chivalry, the standard setting of fantasy novels, do not sit well with them; and (4) the Jews tend to be modern, urban, and future-oriented, which suits well the mood and theme of Science Fiction, whereas fantasy tends to suit the mood and fantasy of the nostalgic, pastoral, backward-looking.

Myself, must as I like his definition of fantasy, I doubt both the question and the answer. As for the question, I can think of at least two Jewish fantasy writers right off the top of my head: Esther Frienser and David B. Coe (who, by the way, is an acquaintance of mine, and an all around swell guy).

(It was David B. Coe who uttered the most professional and wisest words I ever heard a writer speak when asked about blockbuster writers like Robert Jordan .When asked whether he was jealous of such writers, Mr. Coe replied mildly that Robert Jordan not only made our audience grow, he also paid our bills. Unless Tor Books gets enough cash in its coffers from its top selling author sales, it can’t pay the midlist authors like us.) 

As for the answers,  his answers generally depend on a too-narrow definition of fantasy for its persuasiveness.

(1) Not all fantasy is Inkling fantasy of Tolkien and Lewis. There is nothing in LUD-IN-THE-MIST by Hope Mirrlees, in the ‘Eternal Champion’ novels of Michael Moorcock, or PERDIDO STREET STATION by China Mieville (just to name some random examples) that is particularly dependent on magic, on chivalric quests, or on an Evil Dark Lord to make it a fantasy. There is magic but no Dark Lord in A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA by Ursula K. LeGuin, THE BROKEN SWORD by Poul Anderson, THE WORM OUROBOROS by E.R. Eddison, the Deryni series by Catherine Kurtz, the Mabinogion novelization by Evangeline Walton. 

Indeed, most modern fantasy takes place in a D&D world where men and women of modern Southern-Californian outlook and temperment galavant through landscapes just as likely to be postapocalyptic rather than pre-industrial. For example, the Dying Earth books of Jack Vance, the Pern books of Anne McCAffrey, the Wheel of Time series of Jordan, the Warlock books of Christopher Stasheff, the Shannarra books of Terry Brookes, and the Dark Sun Rising trilogy by C.S. Friedman each take place in a world which high technology was lost or left behind on planet Earth.

 

For that matter, what of the fantasy novels of Charles Williams, a fellow Inkling and Christian? There are supernatural events, but no warlocks, and no Dark Lords peopling his supernatural thrillers.

(2) Lewis and Tolkien wrote their most memorable works during the horror and loss of World Wars, and both suffered loss. The need of escape from the dull and bloodstained prison camp which forms the modern world and its world view is not obviated because of greater rather than less suffering — even if we can put a measure on suffering, which I am not sure we can or ought.

(3) As a matter of historical fact, the Jews suffered less in the Middle Ages than they did during the persecutions of the Rennaisance, the Black Death, the Reformation, and far less than during the modern days, the days when an international Church and an international community of kings who were cousins of each other, an international free market were all replaced by the idolatry of scientific eugenics, of nationalism, of socialism. But even if we confine our remarks to modern myths about the Middle Ages, once again I think the author’s definition of fantasy is skewed: the main characters in Tolkien are homebodies called (not too surprisingly) ‘Hobbits’ which are fuzzy-footed burghers and bourgeoisie who care for comfort and well-ordered fields and mistrust machinery. The main characters in Lewis are schoolchildren. There is actually little or no glorification of chivilry or courtlessness in these books. Instead the attitude toward war seem Churchillian: a bulldog’s willingness to fight even in a hopeless cause, or without seeing the ends of things.

(4) I am curious about the idea of Science Fiction as progressive and Fantasy, because it is basically nostagic, glorifies the past, as conservative, but I can think of too many counter-examples to consider it a good rule of thumb. H.G. Wells was a progressive and a socialists, but Jules Verne was a Roman Catholic. STRANGE IN A STRANGE LAND is progressive; but STARSHIP TROOPERS is conservative. Besides, the example of Phillip Pullman (whom the writer mentions by name) would seem to indicate that high fantasy is not at odds with progressive themes (and no theme is more progressive than anti clericalism — this dates back to the French Revolution). 

So, an interesting article that failed to persuade me of its main theme. I also was not persuaded by the review to look up THE MAGICIANS by Lev Grossman. Does the world really need one more sneering send-up of Aslan? I had my fill of that in the first issue of LEGENDS, not to mention the anti-Narnia written by Phillip Pullman (his words, not mine). 

I did like hearing again the anecdote with which the article opens: 
 

Although it might seem unlikely that anyone would wonder whether the author of The Lord of the Rings was Jewish, the Nazis took no chances. When the publishing firm of Ruetten & Loening was negotiating with J. R. R. Tolkien over a German translation of The Hobbit in 1938, they demanded that Tolkien provide written assurance that he was an Aryan. Tolkien chastised the publishers for “impertinent and irrelevant inquiries,” and—ever the professor of philology— lectured them on the proper meaning of the term: “As far as I am aware none of my ancestors spoke Hindustani, Persian, Gypsy, or any related dialects.” As to being Jewish, Tolkien regretted that “I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people.”