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MAGIC
July 7, 1992
Once upon a time, I was methodically reading through
the Science Fiction and Fantasy books in my grade
school library, because I reasoned that I wouldn't have
access to them forever and I should get through them
before I read the stuff my brother's had at home.
This was a really dumb idea, because the kind of
fiction they tended to stock in the school library
was intended to encourage Good Attitudes.
For example, I remember a tedious story about a young boy who
was selected to be one of the first astronauts (because weight
considerations precluded sending an adult). The entire book
focuses on his training, and in the end they change their minds
and he doesn't get to go. One scene I remember: the boy
is briefly separated from his bodyguards in a crowd at a fair.
A gang of kids hassles him, and he meekly gets on his knees and
licks their boots as ordered. The moral being that he swallowed
his rage and avoided doing anything that might get him hurt and
put the mission in jeopardy. So, remember boys and girls,
passivity is the better part of valor. (In reality, guess what
happens after you lick their boots.)
(I could've been reading Heinlein, or Asimov, or something
when I was ten, but *no* I had to read dreck like this instead.)
Here's a "fantasy" novel I read around the same time: A boy
gets this one bottle of a magic potion that lets him sprout
wings and fly. He spends one summer sneaking out at night
and flying around doing neat things, always coming home and
speaking the magic words (or whatever) that transform him
back. Finally, the potion is running out, and he uses the
last dose to produce his last set of wings. He decides to
spy on his mother and her new suitor who are sitting on the
front porch. He flies over there and lands on the roof,
eavesdropping for a while; but then he makes a noise:
they're going to look on the roof. So what does he do? He
could fly away, but they'd see him with his wings,
and maybe that would even scare away his mom's new
boyfriend-- so he says the transformation spell, and all
they discover is an embarrassed kid caught playing around on
the roof, wearing a funny outfit.
So, just because it's dressed up like SF & F doesn't
mean it's not really mundane. This stuff is all about
the importance of fitting in, of being normal and
grown-up and responsible. "Home, sweet closet."
Me, I say, all this business about "magic" is
symbolic of other things.... imagination,
independence, intelligence, power...
And if life hands you a wild card, you should
play it just as high as you can, even if it
means being different and strange.
And whatever you do, don't let anyone tell
you to throw away your last set of wings.
All of this is one of the reasons
I like things like "Peter Pan" or
"Bell, Book and Candle". They
look like they're going to end up
being a celebration of being normal and
boring, but instead some people slip
through the net.
There remains more
than one way to go.
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