. . . as Mandrake the Magician used to say.
Kinetic fantasy author Max Gladstone wrote an interesting post about "Magic Systems and the Wizardsroman" on his own blog. He's interested in the connections between story and How Magic Works (that is, how the fictional magic operates within a fantasy story), and it started me thinking about the same subject.
Gladstone very cogently pointed out that different stories use different styles of magic, but I'd like to go a little deeper under the hood and look at why that should be the case. Why don't all fantasies just crib from real-life occultists like Aleister Crowley and his imitators, or the practices of historical witches as described in the Malleus Maleficarum? Or, if those are too boring, just change the names of spells from the Dungeons and Dragons rules. Instead, each author spends a huge amount of effort inventing a new magical mechanic, like the metal-based sorcery Brandon Sanderson created in his Mistborn series. Or invests time and study to learn about an obscure real-world magic tradition, the way Niven and Barnes did for Dream Park.
Here's the secret: fantasy stories aren't about magic, they're about people. Which means the magic in a fantasy story has to affect the characters and their interactions. If the magic is an innate ability (as in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels) then that automatically creates a tension between those who can and those who can't do magic. Even among Rowling's wizards, the central conflict is over their attitude toward the unpowered "Muggles."
Conversely, if anyone can learn magic, then the focus of the story is what it costs to learn it (as in H.P. Lovecraft's fiction, where the use of supernatural power invariably corrupts and dehumanizes the users), or on the social controls needed to regulate magic (as in Charles Stross's "Laundry" series and most other "occult cop" fiction).
Done right, the specifics of magic become part of the theme of the story. In Rowling's books, magic requires both innate talent and extensive training — the ideal set-up for a story about special wizard kids at school. If magic wasn't an inborn talent, poor Harry would never get called to Hogwarts, and if it didn't require training he wouldn't need to spend seven books studying there.
Circling back to Mr. Gladstone's essay, I'd like to venture the opinion that the rules of magic matter to the reader only to the extent that they matter to the characters. If doing magic requires elaborate ritual and precise actions, then the author should spell out what needs doing and why (or at least suggest it). Conversely, a story of people doing magic through sheer force of will or wild free-form inspiration will necessarily have a more chaotic feel. Like the characters, the reader can't quite be sure when magic is happening or who's doing it.
What about historical magic? That's the sort of thing I enjoy: name-checks of dudes like Apollonius of Tyana, John Dee, and the Comte de Saint-Germain; recognizable magical workings and paraphenalia, and a sense that even the nicest wizards may be damning themselves in their pursuit of supernatural power. How does that fit into a fantasy story?
Well, "tourism" is a worthwhile element of any fantastic fiction. A science fiction novel with a weird enough setting can coast on that for a considerable distance, and a well-done fantasy can keep the reader entertained with glimpses of real-life magical beliefs in their proper historical context. Or an author with knowledge of a mystical tradition unfamiliar to most readers can get a lot of mileage out of showing off that knowledge. Obviously the key here is that all these things must be done in an entertaining manner, which of course is easier said than done.
Historical magic also lets the author come to grips with real-world issues — and perhaps debunk popular misconceptions. One can even examine hard philosophical or theological questions: is it even possible to be a "good wizard" in an explicitly Christian context? What happens to a genuinely good person who trafficks with genuinely evil spirits? How to reconcile different faiths?
To sum up, then, the magic in a fantasy story has to serve the needs of the story. One can either custom-design it to fit the story one wishes to tell, or seek out the story possibilities in a pre-existing set of magical beliefs. The same applies to roleplaying games: the magic rules should fit the kind of game you're trying to design. If you want fast-moving action, then spells should be showy and easy to cast; if you want subtle intrigue then they should be complex and hard to detect.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some fantasy story ideas I need to jot down.
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