Changeling, Urban Fantasy and Laurell K. Hamilton's Orgies

[varjohaltia]

For the second year now, I kept hearing references to Changeling at DragonCon. This time I actually had Firefox in front of me, though, and so typed it into the little Google hole on a whim and hit enter. Wowser.


Ever since I ran across the concept of RPGs (role playing games), the kind where kids or grown-ups sit around a table with silly figures, all kinds of dice, pens, and paper and pretend to be something else, I've been an avid gamer. It can be freely argued that it's a geeky, nerdy preoccupation. On the other hand, it's harmless, doesn't have to cost much, and is a lot more engaging than movies, TV or pretty much any pre-packaged entertainment. At its best it is interactive storytelling, eliciting any range of emotions, helping you see things from the viewpoints of others, and giving you new insights into life outside of your own little box.


RPGs can be in any kind of setting. Many are in a fantasy world, many are in a science-fiction world, some are in horror-settings and some are in cyberpunk settings. I've always been partial, or rather solely dedicated, to fantasy settings with low technology, simple life and elves. Sort of an intellectual SCA without the annoying people, funk and mosquitoes. I've yet to figure out why this is, but no other settings I've tried really never grabbed me (with the possible exception of one Cyberpunk game.)


RPGs can also be run in any of several ways. There are rules, to give the story a framework to develop in. Any number of game systems can be used to figure out whether a knight hits the dragon or whether the dragon defeats the knight. To some people this is important. The challenge is to survive a game, to win battles, to gain power and wealth against tight odds and a high chance of failure, that is, the death of your character. I want a story that gives hope. I want a story where good prevails, where heroism is rewarded, where one can get the princess. If the hero were to die, it would be for a reason, and would be worthwhile, not because the hero's player rolled badly.


I've never really cared about the odds, or the mechanics. Like so many other things, your childhood and first experiences shape you. My first dungeon master / game master / storyteller believed in telling stories, rather than letting the randomness of dice get in the way. Or, perhaps this is what I am like, and I was just lucky to have met him, instead of another kind of dungeon master. He was also a remarkably astute observer of people, incredibly intelligent, and masterful manipulator. As a result, the years I gamed with him were unforgottable. Every so often (and it was never often enough!) I and my friends would lock ourselves into a too-tiny room, escape the lightless gloom of the Finnish winter, and wander in elven woods, or cross great plains in search of ancient treasure, in order to save the princess, or in order to save the world. All the while, these adventures were personal. My characters encountered other people to interact with and entered settings in which their past would matter, in which their hopes and dreams would be forged, in which their very being would be challenged.


One of the cardinal sins, I was always told, was to make a character that is the player. Yet, I believe that it is always inevitable. You cannot enter the head of someone or something completely alien. You can, however, explore different aspects of yourself. You can play with "what if" scenarios. You can highlight emotional or moral issues you are wrestling with in your everyday real life. Perhaps because of this, because of the me in every character I have ever played, these imaginary journeys had such an incredibly strong effect.


My mother was an artist; one of the lessons she repeatedly kept teaching me was to always cherish imagination. I feel I have failed her in that respect. I cannot tell a story myself to save my life. I think I am not half bad at documenting the world around me; either the real me, in way of too many photographs, or any of my characters, in way of writing down their thoughts, dreams, and life. But to actually break out of those blinders that restrict my vision I have always needed help.


During my formative years I also made full use of the excellent public libraries available in Scandinavia. One of the books I checked out was nearly falling apart, a collection of short stories of the faerie trying to survive in early 20th century UK. Yet again, there was something in the stories that gripped my imagination, and I had to go back and read some of them again and again. Alas, I have since lost my notes, and have not been able to find the book again.


Much later, someone recommended I read Emma Bull's "War of the Oaks," a book of urban fantasy. Urban fantasy, as a genre, was new to me. Essentially it is our current day, everyday urban setting, but overlaid with the mythical, mostly of the celtic origin. There are pooka, sidhe, werewolves, or perhaps vampires living amongst us, in our cities, unseen. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere is another good example of this genre, but once you start looking, you will find more and more books about this very idea. Another example is Laurell Hamilton's Merry Gentry series of orgies among the sidhe and other celtic mythical creatures. While utter (and utterly enjoyable) fluff, they also feed this same fire. To me, it seemed entertaininly analogous to the setting itself--there is plenty to see right in front of your eyes, if you can only learn how to see it.


Instead of a completely new world with no connection to ours, this is fiction of the world around us. Fiction and fantasy that suggests there is still magic in the world, in the very world we live in. Books that cherish imagination, and warn against getting bogged down in the everyday, books that remind us to nurture the childlike curiosity within us. And so, childhood memories of listening to Momo the radioplay, or reading the Neverending story rush back to me.

People never seemed to notice that, by saving time, they were losing something else. No one cared to admit that life was becoming even poorer, bleaker and more monotonous.


The ones who felt this most keenly were the children, because no one had time for them any more.


But time is life itself, and life resides in the human heart. And the more people saved, the less they had.

And so I sit here, in front of a computer, writing up a long, rambling narrative that is going to be read by people most of whom are practical strangers to me. But perhaps there is a point to this, and perhaps I will find it together with those of you who care to read it.


Changeling, then, seems to be an RPG that is set in our everyday world, but deals with the danger of banality, with the danger of refusing to see the magical. With the danger of taking things at immediate face value, at a purely materialistic level. It immediately speaks to all those things my mother warned me against; it deals with the very same issues as so many of my most important childhood books. It seems like a very poor setting for those who would like to prove their worth by clever tactics, ingenious ways to bend the rules and good luck of dice. It seems like a very good setting to awaken one's imagination and tell wonderful stories.


And so, I also wonder once again where I am. What have I done with my life? How do I see the world? What brings me joy? What do I do to the world around me, and people around me? Where should I go? I know that there is a clear, simple, tempting path in front of me, and I know now, stronger than ever, that it is not the path I should take. It is just a matter of waking up, seeing the world without the blinders, and picking a time to step off that path into something else. Into a world where things other than time and money matters once again.


It is time to don the mask and go rob the Timesaving Bank.

Comments

Re: Chaplin

[silentbottlecap.livejournal.com]

I love that speech. Thank you.
But yes, you're right about the Oriental martial arts teaching people to slow down and all that goes along with slowing down. The Taoists seem to have (in my opinion) the best method of doing so.
Unfortunately, people who just take things in stride and let go of society-induced fears tend to be shunned.
It's sad.