3.77 out of 5 stars
This is a collection of essays which I wish I could have taken more time over. But library books have due dates and I've found myself in quite a traffic jam of library books recently. Ideally I would have read one or two essays and paused to digest them before moving on. As a result, I got much more out of the first half of the volume, when my mind was fresher.
If you're a writer, you have probably thought about many of the concepts discussed in these essays, and if you're a reader, you have at least felt some of the boundaries of genre when you've rubbed up against them. Walton and Palmer discuss the author-reader contract: what we as readers expect from each genre and what the author is “contractually obliged” to give us. Fantasy gives us swords and horses, while science fiction gives us lasers and robots and mysteries produce a body, some clues, and a detective. The author may deliver a surprise that subverts the expectations or produce an extremely proficient product according to specs. ”We might compare such novels to gymnastics, in which the mystery with a deeply original structure is like a uniquely choreographed floor routine, while the formulaic mystery is like the athlete doing a specific vault, fun because we are watching a master of the art perform a set of formulaic motions with outstanding excellence."
Experienced readers of a particular genre have acquired a feel for the order of events and the pacing of that genre. When switching genres, you must adjust your expectations until you have enough experience to know what to expect and how to enjoy it. A committed romance fan may not know what to make of a hard science fiction novel, and may bounce off it, not because the SF novel is bad, but because the novice reader is unfamiliar with the conventions of SF. This is one of the reasons that reviewers of literary fiction give poor reviews to SF literature—they haven't the right reading history to be able to properly appreciate it. Once you've read a certain amount in a genre, you get a feel for which details are important and which you should not get hung up on. For example, faster-than-light space travel is often present in SF and you must accept it rather than demanding an explanation if you are to enjoy the novel it appears in.
I remember when I first began to try cozy mysteries. They have particular conventions (no gore, lots of personal details of everyday life, often a sub-plot of romance) with which I was unfamiliar as a reader of Scandinavian noir. With each cozy that I finished, I knew better what to look for and came to like the genre better. Now, many books later, I have a soft spot in my heart for a well written cozy.
The authors don't stick to SF&F. There was a chapter on manga and anime, which was a new subject to me. So far I haven't picked any flowers in that garden. However, the chapter on the romance genre was extremely well done, explaining the mechanics required of authors quite clearly. I found the concept of romances being based on economic issues particularly intriguing. The authors also point out that this genre is aimed at women, hence its denigration by the elite literary reviewer. (Just as SF&F is downgraded as being aimed at “geeks and nerds.”)
The authors have also finally provided an explanation that makes sense to me of the difference between fantasy and magical realism. One big difference between genre fantasy and magical realism is that the genre fantasy contract promises that the consequences of the fantastic element will be deep and significant, consistent through the world, while in magical realism the fantastic element will not affect the larger world and serves mainly as an allegory to help character(s) undergo character development.
If nothing else, I am glad to have this distinction cleared up!







