Magic. Enchantment. Sorcery. Words that have captured the imagination of many, especially in this drab, greying, machinistic world. Some would say, it is what defines fantasy. It is however, a setting element many have come to take for granted, or reduced to abstraction. I believe it is worth thinking about when one considers the place of it in their own stories. Of course, I have not leapt the horizon of genre fiction, so do not consider this a scientific survey, merely ruminations underlined by notions of a reader of some experience and imagination.
Magic, then, is best defined as “the achievement of ends with incommensurate deeds”. For example, even such a mild thing, as having an apple standing on a table in your kitchen appear in your hand(the end) without you standing up and walking to take it (the commensurate deed).
This then, brings us to the first kind of magic, the ancient kind, the feared kind. It is the truly mysterious, the unknown kind, the pact with the demon. To call it an art is an embellishment, because it is playing with fires the sources of which we can no more know than we can leap the horizon. The dark mirror of the miracle, it’s otherworldliness is always said or implied. However, unlike the miracle for the pact, the cost is an irreconcilable part of the witches work. The wicked forces never work for free, they always take, whether it be the Fairy queen asking the first born child, or the devil – your very soul. The very essence of such magic in stories then is the warning – man, do not consort with the dark forces, for their purposes are their own, and you cannot play them. A warning against pride, both towards the dark forces within us – greed, ambition, arrogance, the many lusts and others, and against satan and his angels. Of course, not all such magic need be damning – but always dangerous and mysterious, as that of the fae.
The practitioner of magic is then your witch, your cultist in his manor basement, your wizard in his distant tower, the scholar of the mysteries – and, of course the Dark lord of Sauron’s kind, though it may be superior to put the Witch King and the other Nazgul here, as Sauron was a Maia himself – and so were the Wizards themselves. The Elves are an interesting case, but their considerable otherworldliness is notable. Desperate Denethor grasping at the Palantir only to be himself played by it’s true master is another classic example. For a human protagonist, the fact of him or her being a mage of this kind is really a plot point in and of itself. For a world where there is magic, I think this type is the best, if one hopes to retain the more magical and mystical feeling of classic fantasy, such as Lord of the Rings.
The second type is the more common these days, perhaps as an influence of Dungeons and Dragons, perhaps not, I wouldn’t be the one to say. It is the magic of the academy, of the ‘magic system’. A grand structure of schools and disciplines, all dedicated to mastering the manifold aspects of the arcane. Really, this isn’t even magic by the above definition – the means are no more incommensurate than would be having a robot deliver me that apple. It is simply different, of a hypothetical dimension of reality. This is the fundamental feature of this kind of magic – it is an aspect of the seen world, and thus it’s practice is science, and scientific in form. No doubt a product of our modern tendency to stuff every aspect of our understanding into science and technique, when magic is such the difference between science fiction and fantasy becomes subjective.
There is little difference conceptually between visions of a flying car taxi or a flying carpet transport service, merely in what we consider potentially possible or impossible.
I am not saying this makes it necessarily bad. There are many wonderful stories told through this lens, and excellent worldbuilding done with this in mind. From our more western imaginations, the old DnD setting of Mystara comes to mind – it is properly, pardon my imagination for coming up with this word, Wandpunk, and the source of that flying carpet taxi example – even in backwoods, mage hating (read: luddite) Karameikos. Harry Potter is another good example, focusing on the academia aspect, a vision of the university from a magical lens. In a more obvious instance, alchemy is the example of this understanding in history, and FullMetal Alchemist is the one which leaps to my mind as a great example of fully embracing the scientific nature of what I would term the arcanological magic. Edward is, after all, the image of the smug scientist, believing in no God but the laws of the universe and equivalent exchange, in a setting that exemplifies the atheistic bent of the modern age, an image of the Interbellum. Another way to do this, is the way Avatar: The Last Airbender did it, rather than cramming them into the sciences, make the Arcanological disciplines part of the older systems of knowledge, as arts, to be mastered. Note how the benders never adopt the mode of the Faust, locked away pursuer or dealer with spirits, (well, most of the time), but rather the mode of the school, the martial artist and the Buddhist monk. Most of these are part of an older mode of knowledge, yet share nevertheless in that spirit of understanding and utilization of a wordly power. It is no surprise oriental or oriental themed stories take the lead in this category – their traditional understanding of magic is much more arcanological after all, the genres of xianxia and wuxia are generally built around such.
What I shall warn off, however, is mixing an arcanological system with a true-magic aesthetic, when you do not intend to.
You can absolutely explore themes of science and the pursuit of knowledge leading to the dark places – Lovecraft is the master of this, and “Herbert West – Reanimator” is basically what I mean in mixing arcanology with witch aesthetics can work. However, if writing what is supposed to be fantasy setting, you end up with guys building towers and being feared by the general public for being the in-universe equivalent of a chemist, you may have a problem. No wonder your setting then lacks enchante, for by casting your magic as science, you have given it the expectations of science. The worst part is when one includes setting elements associated with the first kind in a setting with just Arcanology – chiefly witch hunts. I am convinced that this is a part of the modern understanding of witches as essentially wise women and quasi-scientists (which is why it always seems to be a focal point when the Black Legend is brought up). It is a vision of those insane Luddite Christians setting innocent women on fire for the crime of the Science, a sort of martyrdom. When, in reality, the people in that time were acting with the understanding of the first kind of magic. The C. S. Lewis quote is brought to mind. “But surely the reason we do not execute witches is that we do not believe there are such things. If we did—if we really thought that there were people going about who had sold themselves to the devil and received supernatural powers from him in return and were using these powers to kill their neighbours or drive them mad or bring bad weather—surely we would all agree that if anyone deserved the death penalty, then these filthy quislings did?”
These two types of magic are of the other-world or off the world, but there is a third great dimension to human consideration – the mind.
Psionics, though traditionally not considered such and usually finding their home in Science Fiction are what I’d consider the third subtype because of this orientation towards the human mind. It is because within this relative containment and bondage within the human that it is far more often that psychic powers appear as simply character traits rather than whole aspects of a story. Tales about psychics are character stories first and foremost, with the danger of the powers often added as a volatile catalyst to more or less mundane personal struggles.
None of this says that psychics cannot make a good setting element.
Of course these are the three general categories, generalized for the point of discussion. There can be outright mergers – Warhammer, both fantasy and 40k are striking examples, merging True Magic and Arcanology and true Magic and psychics in an excellent and gainful way. Alternatively, you can simply have one or more in at the same time. Really, the magic system should reflect the world, but the principle of Chekhov's gun applies – if you make the world of the tale a magical one, it ought serve some purpose in the story. This essay are some of mine own ruminations on the subject of how to do this, and a hope to encourage some thinking of such in you, dear readers.
A very enlightening piece, it has given me a great deal of inspiration for my own writing. Thank you for this kind sir, I do hope you write more articles of this sort in the future as this sort of analysis is crucial to the improvement of our craft and to improving the genre and restoring it to its prior glory.
Thank you for the article. True magic in my writings is purchased with parts of self. for some spells blood, for some spirit. for the darker aspects, someone else's soul and blood. It also comes at a price, the more powerful the magic, the more pain it brings to the user.