I am currently reading a book called “The Summer Tree,” by Guy Gavriel Kay, and I was nervous about it.
One reason being that it is an older, very high fantasy that has been described in a similar vein as The Lord of the Rings series. And while I love the fantasy genre, especially high fantasy, in my mind it takes a special kind of reader to tackle the more traditional generation of fantasy writing.
But that wasn’t the only reason. The other was that, before starting the book itself, I read a few “meh” reviews of it from people on GoodReads (which I really should stop doing, frankly). One reader in particular scoffed at how the heroes of the story seemed to immediately accept the call to action without question. And if there is one pet peeve I have with fiction, it is definitely things moving too fast.
However, after reading through the first couple of chapters, I came to the conclusion that, at least from my perspective, the heroes took, maybe not the perfect amount of time needed, but a fairly decent amount of time needed to accept their call to action. Why? Because, in a fantasy universe, you have no choice.
This all comes down to a little concept known in the storytelling world as suspension of disbelief. Basically, this term describes the amount of impossibilities and highly illogical scenarios a reader / viewer will accept on account of a story being “fiction.” Possibly one of the most obvious examples of suspension of disbelief would be sitting through an entire Shakespeare play and just believing for a couple hours or so that everyone speaks in iambic pentameter.
But, I digress.
In this instance, the suspension of disbelief came into play the minute the people making the call proved that they were from a realm of magic. And by the laws of fantasy, once magic is in the mix then there is no choice but to accept that there are also heroes, and those in particular who are drawn into the magical realm for the sake of helping to defeat a One True Evil. In other words, once the main characters knew what they were being told about was real, how could we ever expect them to refuse? Refusal, really, is ultimately a waste of the story’s time.
As another example, and while I’m not really a fan of “insta-love,” the same thought process can be applied. Immediately, of all things, The Santa Clause 2 comes to mind. Sure, the realist in me spends the last few minutes of that moving screaming, “Are you crazy? You just met this guy, and you’re going to marry him right off the bat?” but the rest of me, specifically the part that recognizes I am witnessing a work of fiction, knows that Carol lives in a world where Santa Claus exists–ergo, things like true love-at-first-sight (or at least love-at-first-sleigh-ride) most likely exist alongside him.
This same suspension is how we can believe that, in the realm of The Princess Bride, even death itself cannot stop true love: because this is also a universe with giants, fire swamps, and shrieking eels. So, why not?
Essentially, the moment that we as an audience accept a world that has been flipped upside-down, then there are a lot of other things about what we thought we knew that must be reconsidered. (Though, granted, this philosophy would be really hard to apply to any genre other than one with at least a few fantasy elements.)
Now, we could probably get into a whole debate on the messages that some scenarios might be sending to audiences when they require suspension of disbelief, but that is one I will reserve for another time. For now, I would just like to emphasize the concept. I have found lately that there is a weird amount of people who are surprised to find that fiction has unrealistic aspects to it. And, granted, there is a fine line. But while I agree the timing could have possibly been drawn out a little longer in “The Summer Tree,” I do not find it entirely unreasonable that a group of people who have just been shown that a magical world exists outside of their own would feel obligated to go check it out.
Night Owls, what say you about suspension of disbelief? Where is your personal line drawn? What stories have succeeded in suspending your disbelief, and what stories have failed?
