Sunday, June 27, 2010

Through the mythical lens - Fantasy

Fantasy speaks to a part of us, the child and mystic in us, that other forms of media oftentimes fail to reach. The child in us - the innocent, curious, wondering, wandering, dreaming, untainted, pure, energized. The mystic in us - the spiritual being, the self driven warrior of high ideals wether right or wrong, the sage, the disciplined teacher, the charismatic leader, the hero.

What does fantasy fulfill or awake in us when we find ourselves lost within its realms, walking through ancient woods with its characters, riding across vast majestic plains on its horses, seeking out its magical and mysterious creatures? Perhaps the old, uncivilized native-of-the-earth that lies within each of us; perhaps the chivalric warrior, the hunter-gatherer, the nomad, the wise old hermit in us; perhaps it’s the adventurer, the explorer, or the hero in us. For in those moments when we walk down the halls of great castles, feast with mighty kings and measly servants, graceful elves and stout hungry dwarves, when we fly in the clinging talons of great eagles, on the scaly backs of ancient dragons, or through rabbit holes and portal keys, when we fight alongside proud centaurs, honest fawns, wise wizards, enchantful witches, and friends, when we live through the great journeys of hobbits and hero’s, scullions and legends, orphans and princes, when we become one of the story's fellowship, something deep within us sings songs pure and beautiful, old and true, mysterious and powerful. Perhaps these songs help remind us that we are the hero of our own journey and that all we must do is choose to be that hero. Fantasy, like spirituality, seeks the caverns of virtue, curage, and immortality that lie within us. To be but only mortal, only normal, is to not see the immortality, the richness, and the possibility that exists in the world and in ourselves.


George R. R. Martin speaks about fantasy, “There is something old and true in fantasy, something that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night and feast beneath the hollow hills and find a love to last forever somewhere south of OZ and north of Shangri-La.”

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