In the field of literary theory, definitions are famously tricksome things. This may be most particularly true in genre fiction, specifically in the speculative genre fictions.
The third edition of the Science Fiction Encyclopedia has an entry titled Definitions of SF. It runs to 3,000 words and concludes by pointing to another source for further discussion. Nothing is settled, though much is presented.
The great science fiction writer, editor, critic, and educator Damon Knight once seemingly threw his hands up over the matter, saying, “Science fiction is what we point at when we say it.” This borders on the tautological, of course, but points out the seeming futility of the quest for a definition in these matters. It may point, as well, to pointlessness. Why ask what?
But as things become more granular, as the discussion focuses in on, say, space opera or cyberpunk, cozy fantasy or planetary romance, definitions become more useful. Useful to whom? To marketers, certainly. But also, to publishers seeking to establish consistent lines, to editors seeking to provide needed discipline to writers, to writers seeking to establish both aesthetics and audiences, and, most importantly, to readers, who may be doing anything from exploring something new to seeking the joy to be found in encountering an old friend. It is in this view that definitions may be said to be useful.
In reading sword and sorcery, in studying its history and its contemporary expressions, in thinking about it as both a mode and a means, and yes, in writing it and writing about it, I have found it useful to not so much settle on a precise (or even vague) definition as to settle on a set of permeable and non-absolute parameters. Toward that end, I personally make use of what I will here call “the Seven, the Four, and the Alloy.”
I took these terms from three sources, which I will now describe.
“The Seven” is the seven-characteristic description of the genre provided in Flame and Crimson: A History of Sword-and-Sorcery, a 2019 book by scholar Brian Murphy. Murphy’s listed characteristics, or “elements” as he calls them, are these (I believe them to be pithy enough to be self-explanatory):
· Men (and Women) of Action
· Dark and Dangerous Magic
· Personal and/or Mercenary Motivations
· Horror/Lovecraftian Influence
· Short, Episodic Stories
· Inspired by History
· Outsider Heroes
“The Four” were not only proposed by Howard Andrew Jones but put into practice in his roles as a novelist and short story writer and as the editor of the category-leading sword and sorcery magazine, Tales From the Magician’s Skull. When he wrote about them in a blog post at the Goodman Games website, he postulated that “[sword and sorcery is] not just a generic term that can be used interchangeably with fantasy fiction, but [is] a descriptor of a specific sort of fantasy fiction…” [emphasis mine]. Then, rather than being prescriptive, Jones went on to say that sword and sorcery has “at least these four characteristics,” those being:
· The Environment: which, for Jones, covers setting, which should be “exotic,” as in a different world altogether, or “far corners of our own;” magic, which does not often work in the interests of the heroes; and level of technology, which should be relatively primitive, meaning characters will usually use martial means to face their problems.
· The Protagonists: The descriptive words Jones uses for typical protagonists in a sword sorcery tale are hero, stranger, outcast, rebel, commoner, barbarian, discredited, and disinherited (the last two applicable if the hero is originally born of a higher caste).
· Obstacles: I’ll here just quote Jones verbatim. “Sword-and-sorcery’s protagonists must best fantastic dangers, monstrous horrors, and dark sorcery to earn riches, astonishing treasure, the love of dazzling romantic partners, or the right to live another day.”
· Structure: Jones argues that by and large, sword and sorcery stories eschew such (relatively) modern prose fiction techniques as stream-of-consciousness or any other “experimental narrative effects,” and when they do appear, they must advance plot. Those plots are most often traditionally structured, with discernable beginnings, middles, and ends. Sword and sorcery, according to Jones, must move propulsively, at a head-long pace.
Finally, “the Alloy” comes from the mission statement of the newest (as of this writing) active periodical in the genre, New Edge Sword and Sorcery Magazine. The editors behind that magazine put a great deal of thought into not just the aesthetics and characteristics they want stories they publish to evince, but into a sort of mission statement, which I quote here in full:
New Edge sword & sorcery takes the genre’s virtues—outsider protagonists, thrilling energy, wonderous weirdness, and a large body of classic tales—then alloys inclusivity, mutual creator support, a positive fan community, and the enthusiastic promotion of new works into the mix.
Note that none of the above offer a single, concrete definition of sword and sorcery. Rather, reflecting the fluid nature of the borders of any artistic genre, they each offer tools and intentions, and even, particularly in the Alloy, ideals.
Must any story, whether a flash piece of a thousand words up to an epic novel (which for sword and sorcery probably tops out at about 70,000 words!) reflect all of these characteristics to be usefully—and enjoyably—understood as sword and sorcery? Of course not! While it will almost certainly be the case that any given work will evince many of these intentions (I’ve never encountered a work that evinced all of them), taken together, I believe the Seven, the Four, and the Alloy indicate sword and sorcery’s mode and mood.
The three sets of indicators described above constitute an argument. I do not use the word in the sense of an idea or statement designed to influence the mind. Instead, I’m using a sense largely considered obsolete, that being a subject of contention or debate. It was this latter usage that Shakespeare’s Henry V was employing in the first scene of the third act of his titular play, when he says of certain men that they have “sheathed their swords for lack of argument.”
Which is to say, it is not my intent to convince anyone of a particular definition of sword and sorcery, not even myself! It is my intention to demonstrate that sword and sorcery is strong enough, established enough, and supple enough to support contention and debate (but hopefully not contentious debate).
I am posting this brief essay on the blog I use to review contemporary works of sword and sorcery in the hopes that readers will understand what I believe to be generous, but helpful, parameters in deciding what to review and how to review it. My intention is to guard against pointing at something and saying it’s sword and sorcery. I will not always—I will not often—spend time explaining why I do or do not review a particular piece.
Instead, I will let this stand as my current thinking on the matter.
I always like Joseph McCullough's brief formula: "Fantasy with dirt." Nowadays that would include grimdark fantasy, too, but in lots of ways grimdark resembles S&S expanded in a funhouse mirror.
ReplyDeleteScott Oden (author of the Grimnir books) gave his own definition of sword & sorcery on Reddit somewhat recently, though I believe his is very similar to Brian Murphy's.
ReplyDeleteIt is this (and this is MY OWN definition; you might have a slightly different view): an adventure story with fast-paced action that focuses on ONE or TWO protagonists (rarely three, though there is at least one modern exception, The Red Man and Others by Angeline Adams and Remco van Straten); the level of violence is often high, and that violence is depicted in a gritty and granular style. The sorcery in S&S is most often nefarious, tainted by the horrific, and used against the protagonist(s); there is always a cost associated with the use of magic -- be it blood, sanity, or something equally precious. The setting can be a secondary, created world, but it fits best in an historical or quasi-historical milieu; the technological level is rarely beyond the late medieval (though some have been experimenting with "S&S in SPAAAACE"), and often there is a range of cultures represented, though often human-centered.
"Most importantly, the stakes of a S&S tale are personal. Greed, lust, vengeance . . . these are common motivators for S&S heroes. And while they wear the label of “hero”, the protagonists of S&S tales are far from shining paragons of virtue. They are well-represented as outsiders -- thieves and rogues, mercenaries and sell-swords, killers of every stripe; men and women who, you will find, are often not interested in trying to save the world from Great Evil, as they’re too busy trying to save their own ass from the headsman’s axe (and maybe make a bit of coin along the way). Finally, S&S tales are best at short story to novella length."