This semester I had the wonderful opportunity to take a college course devoted purely to the life and work of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. I have been an avid reader of fantasy my entire life, and therefore have regarded Tolkien as little short of a god. The works of Tolkien have shaped the entire genre of modern fantasy, much in the way Einstein shaped our understanding of modern physics. Yes, physics, and fantasy, existed before them, but these are the geniuses who caused the world to say "oh. so you can do that." within their respective fields.

For our first meeting our professor had us read an essay by the esteemed fantasy writer Ursula Le Guin on the reception of Fantasy by literary critics. I was surprised to learn that fantasy is viewed as a lesser form of literature by many, and not just by the tweed-adorned, brandy-swilling, monocle-wearing type (which admittedly sounds more like a perfunctory Bond villain than a snobby professor). Many literary critics, readers, and pundits consider Fantasy literature to just be a cheap, escapist alternative to the far purer realistic fiction. I find fault with this opinion for a few reasons.

Firstly: what the hell is wrong with escapism? In a previous article, I briefly discuss our race's increasing trend towards escapism, and how it could become a problem. Escapism, however, like many things, only becomes detrimental if implemented in excess. For a more complete (and far more sarcastic) argument on this phenomenon, please refer to my previous article Computer Generated Lives Matter. Now that my shameless plug is out of the way, we can continue.

Secondly: The notion that if a book is escapist its value is diminished as a work of literature is frankly absurd. Works of art, whether they be novels, movies, or paintings, are supposed to transport us elsewhere. I would argue that escapism is the essence of story-telling. Nobody has ever stared at the wall of the Louvre and said "this is awful! It looks far too much like where I currently am", and if they have, they were most likely staring at a mirror or on some type of drug. Yes, some paintings are tremendously accurate recreations, but i'll be damned if you can find anything like Picasso's or Dali's work out in the real world. As far as novels are concerned, it is a remarkable talent to be able to tell the stories of remarkably ordinary people having remarkably uninteresting experiences in a remarkably compelling way a la Jane Austen. All props to you, Ms. Austen, but just like in art, we should not just stop at the Mona Lisa. Furthermore, even whilst trudging through hundreds of pages to find out if Mr. Darcy is going to propose to Elizabeth or not, you bet your ass I'm in 1800s Britain, sipping their tea, wearing their silly hats, and not worrying about how I'm supposed to write 10 pages on Darcy's arrogance. Such is the magic of literature.

Thirdly: Those who claim that Fantasy literature is out of touch with our world, and is therefore the worst kind of escapist, must be reading at a third grade level. If you seriously can't get over your own aversion to read past what is spoon-fed to you like some sort of incredibly literate toddler, then you have no place to be judging any sort of literature. Tolkien's work, for example, is fraught with social critique, lessons on morality and humanity, commentary on the nature of good and evil, etc. etc. etc. Just because these themes are hidden amidst Hobbits, pipeweed, and arguably too many songs, does not mean they're not there.

So please, do not eschew or diminish the wonderful works of Fantasy just because some close-minded snob pleasures himself to the verisimilitude of War and Peace.