Eric Wilson’s Field of Blood is getting a bit of controversy. I enjoyed it. Some people didn’t like that his protagonist, Gina, was such a sinner. But didn’t we all start out there? Don’t we all struggle with sin? Doesn’t that make Gina more real to most readers? I’m not a big fan of Christian novels where the main character gets saved in book one. It just feels preachy and forced most of the time. I’m not trying to say it never happens that way in real life, but, well, as a Christian author, sometimes it’s difficult to choose who you’re writing for: the saved or the lost. Eric Wilson did present the gospel message in Field of Blood. His protagonist just wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

The story is about a group of Collectors who have been waiting to awaken some dead bodies that were buried at the Akeldama, the place where Judas Iscariot died. Collectors are Wilson’s representation of demons. Since these particular Collectors chose dead bodies, rather than possessing living ones, they must feed off the blood of the living in order to survive. Thus they are vampires. Gina is a young woman who is being hunted by the Collectors because they think she is one of the Nistarim, those immortal beings who rose at the death of the Nazarene to protect mankind.

What a creative idea! I was so impressed with how certain historical events inspired this story. And Matthew 27. How many times have I read the death of Jesus and skimmed right over this:

“At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus’ resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.” –Matthew 27: 51-53 [emphasis added]

Holy people were resurrected and seen by many people? Way cool. I loved Eric Wilson’s creativity and how he uses facts to make it all seem so possible. Check out my book review of Field of Blood to learn more.

Last time, I digressed from a look at fantasy through the writing of Richard Abanes to a discussion of “In Defence of Fantasy,” a pamphlet by Andrew Lansdown answering the main objections some professing Christians hurl at fantasy. I left off with the explanation Mr. Lansdown gave for the occult from the perspective of those objecting to fantasy:

they use the term “the occult” to describe an interest or an involvement in supernatural things that are evil and devilish. And they view fantasy as occult because its realms may accommodate evil people such as witches, evil spirits such as demons, evil creatures such as goblins, and evil practices such as sorcery.

In addressing this issue, Mr. Lansdown turns to the Bible, pointing out that all kinds of occult activity is recorded in the text—from information about Satan, demons, witches (think, the Witch of Endor), mediums, false prophets, and false gods to idol worship, human sacrifice, sorcery, and magic. I’ll even add that Daniel was put in charge, at one point, of the magicians in Babylon. These were not men of God, but nowhere did God tell Daniel to flame them. In fact, God gave Daniel one of the king’s dreams, and its interpretation, which just so happened to save the lives of all the magicians, a group of which Daniel was a member.

However, as Mr. Lansdown pointed out, the Bible is clearly not an occult book. It is God’s revelation of Himself—His purpose, His plan, and His work in the world. I find it instructive that His work includes His clash with forces of evil, never more clearly seen than in Jesus’s ministry.

But what does that have to do with fantasy?

As Mr. Lansdown points out, the mention of the occult in fantasy clearly cannot be considered as evil or the Bible would need to be considered as evil. Instead, a reader needs to look at intent. Is the author glorifying evil? Are the dark characters set up as heroes? Is dark power portrayed as desirable, something to be sought, something to be emulated?

Interestingly, Mr. Lansdown then addresses the terms used when referring to the occult. He points out that some terms, such as “seer” are used in Scripture in conjunction with men of God. In other words, the existence of supernatural power should not automatically come across as evil supernatural power.

I wonder what these critics of fantasy would think if the word “magi” used in the New Testament to name the visitors from the east who brought gifts to the Christ Child, would be translated “astrologers,” which is the literal meaning. Horrors! Astrology in the Bible? And it wasn’t condemned?

I also think of Moses and Aaron pitted against Pharaoh’s magicians, doing the same kinds of supernatural deeds. What separated them was the source of their power and their purpose in using it. Clearly their miraculous acts were designed to point to God.

Does that mean that fantasy, to be Christian, must identify God as the source of miraculous, not magical, power? Here’s Mr. Landsdown’s response:

A Christian fantasy writer may openly identify God as the source of the supernatural power that good characters draw on to overcome evil. But then again, he may not. He may decide to leave the source unidentified for reasons of literary integrity. And yet, as in the book of Esther where God is nowhere specifically mentioned, his fantasy may carry a strong implication of God and of godliness.

But back to the topic of occult terms, Mr. Lansdown points out that words such as “magic” and “wizard” have been retooled by the notable Christian fantasy writers, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. In Narnia, Lewis said Aslan used “deep magic” and in the Lord of the Rings, Tolkien created a race of wizards, as distinct from men as were elves and dwarfs. In neither case is there anything evil implied.

I can’t help but believe that this latter “retooling” is a legitimate creative exercise. Consequently, when Bryan Davis wrote Dragons in Our Midst series and Donita Paul wrote the DragonKeeper Chronicles, the presence of good dragons as well as evil ones seems consistent with what we know to be true about real beings in the real world: some angels fell and some did not, some men remain in their unredeemed state and some do not.

Isn’t such fabrication, of itself, dangerous because it … well, isn’t true. So say the critics, which means we’ll take a look next time at fantasy and truth.

Suddenly sci-fi nerd-ism is cool again. Today it’s on the front of my local newspaper (?) and last week a toy Enterprise graced covers of Newsweek (which turned the feature into a total sycophantic suckup piece glorifying Barack Obama™).

Yet even I, who have seen all the films and almost all the series, and even have some action figures, have gotten a little tired of all the Star Trek movie hype. And it hasn’t even really started yet. I’m keeping my expectations just average; and I’ll likely see the film early next month anyway. It seems I have my good reasons for the delay …

Naturally I’m out of step with the rest of geekdom by offering the second and last part of my suggestions for the Fox / Walden adaptation of C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. While the Disney / Walden release last year of Prince Caspian is good, it didn’t quite achieve the magic of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which itself was more than little problematic already. But now, with a new distributor, new director, writers and composers, Narnia fans can hope the magic of the Voyage is enhanced even better.

In my last column I said the story must focus better on Aslan, and not mega-battle climaxes, portray the redemption of Eustace Scrubb pretty much just as it was in the book, and imbue better musical themes. Others in response quickly pointed out that Aslan’s country, and Aslan’s final words in the story to Edmund and Lucy, simply must be preserved. I have said much the same at the last of this column, though it is certainly a vital — if not the vital — story element.

5. Improve movie marketing.

This isn’t Pirates of the Caribbean 4: Only This Time with Narnia. Don’t market big battles (see suggestion 1), don’t glorify stupid mush (see suggestion 6, below) and don’t even promote cute talking animals. Instead, show audiences that this is a Family Friendly High-Seas Adventure.

Yes, it is plotted well, cohesive and our heroes are on a mission to Find the Lost Seven Lords, but overall the idea is daringly random: the crew of a ship visits various islands and learns their secrets. Along the way, they learn many things not only about their world — such as finding its very edge! — but themselves. Eustace: his own sinfulness and need to shed his beastly skin only with Aslan’s help. Lucy: her envy of others and inclinations toward vanity. Edmund and Caspian: their lingering desires for glory at the expense of what Aslan wants. Reepicheep: a long-held dream to see the end of the world and discover where Aslan’s actual country lies.

Present these to audiences. Concentrate on the characters and their personal voyages, not just the title’s capital-letter Voyage. A Voyage of Discovery, a magical world, and their very selves. And so on. The marketing doesn’t need to be too deep. But by Aslan’s mane, let’s not have any more of this eye-rollingly vague PC-style “All that you know is about to change” stuff.

6. Cut non-canon mush.

Even Adolf Hitler, according to this reliable reenactment, was outraged over the half-hearted “romance” between Susan and Caspian in the second Narnia film. It made no sense, both in Susan’s character development and even objectively as a story. They had barely flirted during the film, so just exactly wheretheheck did a climactic kiss-o-rama come from in the first place?

Don’t do that in Voyage. No, really. Don’t. Really. Don’t. No need exists for Lucy — our only female lead this time — to start Learning About Boys or any of this nonsense. Keep the snogging to Harry Potter, where at least it’s canonical. Caspian is attracted to Ramandu’s daughter on the last island the ship reaches, and that’s all. In Lewis’s Voyage, this is given a clear acknowledgment, and few will complain if that is made more clear in the film. So if we absolutely must have a Climactic Smooch, an epilogue scene could show them kissing.

7. Forget “Star Girl.”

That brings me to my second-to-last point. The “Star Girl” idea may have been vastly entertaining to the members of NarniaWeb’s Labor Day weekend Midwest Mod Moot last year (insert personal shout-out), but in the film her presence would be absolutely appalling.

What I mean is this: a very early Dawn Treader script included the way wacky idea of having Ramandu’s daughter, a blue star-like humanoid, present earlier in the film than in the real story, guiding the Dawn Treader ship on its voyage until they wind up at the island. Here and there she appears to Caspian and others in some kind of visions. That would be disgusting. That would detract from Aslan (see suggestion 1) and that would be disgusting. Don’t. Do. It.

8. Toward Aslan’s Country …

Make it incredible. Make it wonderful. Spend only $2 million on the rest of the film’s effects and save $38 million for Aslan’s Country — a vision of Heaven, a spellbinding sight of luscious green mountains, valleys and waterfalls, all behind a translucent layer of sky and solid wave of water constantly rising beyond the end of the world.

And I dare even to pray this next: please, Lord, let them cut nothing from Aslan’s words to the children at the very end. The great Lion tells Edmund and Lucy they will not be returning to Narnia, yet he tells the children he is present in their real world as well. “[T]here I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason you why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

About a month ago I wrote a two-part column about what contributed to the failure of the second Chronicles of Narnia film, Prince Caspian, to live up to the success of its predecessor.

In the first installment, I listed as two reasons marketing difficulties and differences between Disney and the C.S. Lewis estate that likely led to the two separating. And in the sequel column, I speculated that adaptation issues and changes to the Caspian book’s messages of faith and redemption did some damage to the story itself — though overall the film was well done.

Now, similar to the third pending Narnia film, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I have had some delays releasing my own third installment in this series. Last time, I promised to offer some suggestions and a started discussion about what Fox / Walden (new distributor, and same producers) needs to bring for this Voyage. I’ve broken this down into eight suggestions, four to follow in this column, with the next four in yet another sequel. Here we go …

1. Better Aslan focus.

Many complained mightily about Aslan lacking might in the Prince Caspian film, and to some extent even that was an improvement over the ways he was presented in 2005’s LWW.

Yet those are style criticisms. I think any portrayal of the Lion — similar to showing the true-life Savior Whom he parallels — is bound to meet with protests that the paradox of not-tame-yet-good wasn’t presented well enough. (The puppet Aslan of the BBC made-for-TV Narnia movies barely moved, and sounded tranquilized. Yet in Focus on the Family’s supreme Radio Theatre Chronicles, Aslan, at least at first, “RAWWWLLLL”ed about so much that it sounded silly.)

Aslan could be improved visually in Voyage. But in terms of story, he needs to be even bigger. Though in the book he only makes “cameo” appearances, there is a constant sensation that the Lion who created and sustains Narnia is always there, guiding the ship and its crew, even if you cannot see him. This sense of Providence must be preserved. It will make Voyage even deeper.

2. No added mega-battles.

Battles are awesome. I like big battles, mostly if they are in context of a broader story and contain characters I’ve grown to care about. And the LWW and PC films’ souping battles up into huge sequences, with charging centaurs and exploding boulders were not much amiss, because Lewis’s books did contain battles, though often they weren’t described all that much.

However, Voyage is a different kind of story. Whenever someone draws a sword it’s more for a skirmish — I recall from the book some tangling with slave traders, and the scary fight against a sea serpent. Most of the tension comes from the battles that might happen, not the ones that actually do — like dark dreams, the Dufflepuds or the enchanted Ramandu’s Island. Voyage is a high-seas adventure tale. It doesn’t need a Huge Climactic Battle Sequence. To decide otherwise would be not only to opt for cheap CGI tricks, but deny the story’s true appeal.

Yet I will go on the record regarding the sea serpent with two predictions: that fight will be extended, and I also believe the story will be adjusted just a little to allow Eustace to fight the beast further — perhaps even while he is still in dragon form. I’ll also dare to say I wouldn’t mind such changes; and if I were in charge of script adaptation, I might even push for them.

3. Make Eustace memorable.

Though Lucy and Edmund from the first two Chronicles return in Voyage, its real human star is Eustace Clarence “And he almost deserved it” Scrubb. Even more than Edmund’s redemption in LWW, Eustace undergoes such an amazing parallel to the Biblical teaching of human sin and salvation that he remains one of my all-time favorite child characters in the Chronicles.

Those who want or wanted to make the children in the films more “human” and with Deeper Characterizations than what are (supposedly) more shallow figures from the first two novels could not be given a better opportunity with Eustace.

Yet Voyage screenwriters don’t need to deepen or “flesh out” Eustace. C.S. Lewis has already done so. I hope they will resist the temptation to change Eustace in other ways, either after or especially before his transformation. Don’t make him beastly-acting just because his Parents Neglected Him, or because he is Shocked By His Unfamiliar Environment or because Someone Really Was Mean to Him or anything like that. Instead, Eustace should be beastly because that is his nature. Otherwise the redemption won’t work, the story won’t work, and he will fail to be memorable and become the shallow character the writers should surely hope to avoid.

4. Enhance musical themes.

As I enjoy the films themselves, I also appreciate their music by Harry Greggson-Williams. But they could certainly be better. Along with new director Michael Apted (Amazing Grace) replacing Andrew “Shrek” Adamson, a new composer (David Arnold) is on board for this Voyage. I’m unfamiliar with the rest of his film work, yet his score for Amazing Grace was personal, melodic and appropriately evocative of the film’s mix of history and personal faith journey.

Voyage needs two kinds of themes in its soundtrack. Improving on the first two scores, it needs themes of loyalty, bravery, adventure, and especially redemption. Yet it also needs themes as in musical themes — Aslan needs a more-awesome theme, Eustace/redemption needs a theme, and surely the composer will set Reepicheep’s destiny-in-the-East-style lullaby to music as well? If not, then they could at least repeat the sacred-sounding manner or even the tune that the BBC Voyage movie, for all its flaws, did so well for the lullaby’s reprise.

So what should we make of dragons … or magic or wizards or trolls or faeries? Do they belong in the stories our children read? Do they belong in the stories we Christian authors write?

I ended Part 1 of the discussion about fantasy with that question, generated from my reading of Richard Abanes‘ fine book, Harry Potter, Narnia, and the Lord of the Rings. Well, I just received a copy of a pamphlet entitled “In Defence of Fantasy” (yes, the British spelling of defense is intentional) by Australian author Andrew Lansdown. In part this booklet opened my eyes to some of the stringent opposition to fantasy others have talked about. Mr. Lansdown systematically and thoughtfully takes the major objections to fantasy and discusses them from a Biblical perspective. I’d like to follow his line of thinking for a time.

He identifies these objections to fantasy:

• people in false religions like fantasy
• fantasy is linked to the occult
• fantasy is not true (and why should Christians spend so much time reading a lie)
• (and the corollary) fantasy depicts things that have no basis in reality
• readers (especially young ones) may become confused about what is real
• fantasy is escapist

Mr. Lansdown easily defeats the first objection: people in false religions like fantasy, first by admitting the element of truth in the statement. But he goes on to point out that people steeped in false religion or philosophy like all kinds of things, such as gardening or classical music. Using the reasoning that something becomes evil because someone with a wrong worldview likes it, then all of God’s creation could be written off as evil. The conclusion a person should reach instead is that even people with wrong worldviews can like and enjoy good things.

However, Mr. Lansdown goes on to acknowledge that some writers use fantasy to further their wrong worldview. I thought of Phillip Pullman as a prime example of this.

Again, Mr. Lansdown defuses this argument as a reason to dismiss all fantasy:

A man who has sex with a prostitute does not thereby prove that sex in itself is bad and should be banned from marriages. A woman who poisons her husband with oleander sap does not thereby prove that oleander bushes in themselves are bad and should be banned from gardens. Likewise, a writer who poisons a fantasy with depravity does not thereby prove that fantasy novels intrinsically are bad and should be banned from libraries. He proves only that his fantasy is bad and should be banned.

(Here I’m hoping that “banned from libraries” refers to personal libraries because banning books brings up another completely different, albeit as equally high-charge, topic.)

The second point—the link with the occult—is probably the major issue and one I touched on in Part 1. I think it’s such a serious concern that I think it deserves more discussion. Let me lay out the arguments to give you time to think about the subject, then next time we’ll look at Mr. Lansdown’s refutation.

Some Christians object to fantasy writing because they feel that it is linked with the occult. By “the occult” they do not mean things that are merely “mysterious” and “outside the laws of the natural world”. They mean things that are darkly mysterious and wickedly supernatural. Quite legitimately, they use the term “the occult” to describe an interest or an involvement in supernatural things that are evil and devilish. And they view fantasy as occult because its realms may accommodate evil people such as witches, evil spirits such as demons, evil creatures such as goblins, and evil practices such as sorcery.

Interestingly, Mr. Lansdown divides fantasy into three categories—stories with no occult, stories with some occult, stories featuring the occult. He says, “In my view, the first category needs no defence, while the third category is largely indefensible.” So his refutation deals exclusively with stories containing some occult. And we’ll look at what he says about them next time.

Meanwhile, let me know what you think about the three categories, the list of objections to fantasy, or anything else that comes to mind on the subject.

Blaggard’s Moon by George Bryan Polivka is outstanding fiction. I posted a complete review at A Christian Worldview of Fiction, but I want to elaborate on one point I brought up—that the characters are authentic. Please note, I think this quality differs from “believable.” Polivka’s characters are also believable, but he has given them a depth that goes beyond the norm.

Believable characters are distinct from one another and they are three dimensional. They have quirks, are lovable, but probably not all the time, and do annoying things right beside heroic ones. Especially they have unique voices.

All this is true of Polivka’s pirate characters in Blaggard’s Moon. In fact he does an incredible job of differentiating the voices of one pirate from another. Storyteller Ham, for instance, obviously has more intelligence and uses words on occasion that some in his audience don’t understand. Evil Captain Imry is self-contained and proud and cruel. Dallis Trum is wide-eyed and fearful. On and on, and the reader learns all these qualities through what each character says or how they say it or how the others react to what they say.

But that still doesn’t create authentic characters. As I’m using the word, I’m suggesting that these characters reveal something deeper of themselves, something they don’t even like to admit in their own thoughts. This is true of the main character Delaney Smith, to be sure. After all, for a good portion of the book, he is sitting on a post thinking. It would be hard not to go deeper into his character. But the magic of this book is that Polivka gives us a deeper look into the lives of the other pirates, the ones sitting around listening to Ham’s story. He takes us deeper into Jenta’s character, too, but not from her point of view—from Delaney’s.

Here’s a passage that I think is masterful in creating authentic characters. Storyteller Ham has just told the pirates that the strongest, richest pirate of all, Conch Imbry, has forced a wealthy merchant to renounce his wife. She, in turn, agreed to become his woman if he would agree not to kill her husband but have their marriage annuled instead.

And underneath that mask, in the deepest pocket of her [Jenta’s] heart, she tucked herself away. She secluded herself, shrouded herself, buried herself in a place where she wouldn’t feel the sting of conscience or the burn of humiliation, a place where she could await some moment far in the future when she might perhaps come out again, and determine just how much damage she had done.

“I knew the Conch’d get ‘er!” Sleeve crowed. “Now she’s seen reason.”

“I don’t know, Sleeve,” another sailor countered slowly. “Ham said she hid herself away. That don’t sound like seein reason.”

“Oh, come on. That’s just her talkin’ herself outta her old ways. Ain’t it, Ham?”

Ham puffed his pipe.

“See, boys,” Sleeve explained, “all that nonsense about religion and doin’ good, and listenin’ to conscience and all, like there’s some kinda God lookin’ down on everyone and shakin’ His finger, all that does is, it just keeps ye from doin’ what ye got to do to get by in this world. It gets deep under the skin, and it’s hard to shed it all, even once ye have a mind to do it. But Jenta did it. See, now she can do what’s necessary to make her way in the world. She jus’ grew up, there at the table, that’s all.”

“But she hid herself away fer a time,” the other sailor countered.

“Aw, that’s just the way ye get shed of it. After a few months, years maybe, why, she’ll forget she’s hidin’ anything. She’ll realize one day, hey, I’m free of it, I don’t feel no guilt about anythin’ at all. I don’t need never to go back. Conscience is gone, and I can do what I want without it draggin’ on me. Trust me, boys, I know. That’s how I done it.”

There was silence in the room.

“Me, too,” a voice said.

“Yeah, and me. Sorta,” said another.

Delaney had to admit that was his path, too. He’d made a lot of little choices to run from conscience and all such things. But then when he swore to follow the Conch, both to kill and die, he told himself it was just because he had to, not forever, and later he could go back on it if he wanted. But he never did. And the longer he went, the less he ever wanted to.

Authentic characters tell the truth. The universal truth, even the truth we don’t really like to admit.

Finally this month I’ve ordered several speculative-fiction titles from Marcher Lord Press, the new-and-interesting online-but-genuine publisher for Christian-leaning sci-fi-and-fantasy novels. Yes, it’s taken me a while! Sometimes real life — and financial constraints, even for their very reasonably priced offerings — prevents me from exploring a new more strange new worlds.

Actually I ordered half of writer/editor/owner Jeff Gerke’s web-inventory — two from Marcher Lord Press itself, and the third from Amazon.com.

That third book arrived yesterday, probably because it was released sooner: Hero, Second Class by Mitchell West. This is not a review of that book — but I am enjoying it a lot. (I’ll offer more of my thoughts below.)

Naturally we’ve been talking a lot about Marcher Lord here on Spec-Faith (though I recently realized the site’s search function makes it more difficult to determine how much). But two of our contributors — whose books I’m still waiting for! — have written here, none other than the original site starter (and current host) Stuart Stockton, author of Starfire, and Jill Williamson, By Darkness Hid. (Jill, I hope you stick around a while. I loved your take on Twilight.)

Rebecca L. Miller offered her take on By Darkness Hid in February, and now I’d like to offer an overview of all the Marcher Lord titles published so far. They came in waves of three each. Last October the publisher released the first three novels, and this month comes the second wave.

Here’s what I know about the first three releases. And perhaps by the time I proceed to the next three, I will have finished Hero, Second Class and worked my way to others.

The Personifid Invasion by R. E. Bartlett

The author is previously known, having already published The Personifid Project with Creation House in 2005. So Invasion is a sequel to that book — a story set in a society whose members can prolong their lives and consciousnesses with new cyber-bodies.

Amazon shows Project with a full five stars from all six reviews, though the page’s review gives it lower marks for too much action and “too little time fleshing out her provocative ideas and characters.” Similarly, readers’ reviews are saying that the sequel spends a lot of time playing with technology and not as much with characterization. To me, the premise sounds similar not only to The Matrix but Sigmund Brouwer’s robots-and-space series The Mars Diaries.

Still, the only reason I won’t read this book is if I haven’t yet read the first installment first.

Summa Elvetica: A Casuistry of the Elvish Controversy by Theodore Beale

More from an already-published novelist — though apparently his first three books are out of print and very hard to find — this novel has one of the more intriguing (and difficult to market!) premises of Marcher Lord’s titles. In short, what if a hybrid real-and-magical world forced the Catholic Church to determine whether magical creatures had souls and needed redemption?

This seems unique for several reasons, of course, but I think the most radical one is this: imagine a fantasy world in which the Catholic Church is not overly evil for a change.

Personally, I’m on the other side of the Reformation, so I might find some of the Catholicism as intriguing and foreign as the fantasy creatures. But as someone who enjoys doctrinal discussion altogether and fantasy, I’m sure I will enjoy a combination of the two, done well and with substantive balance of theological themes and character-depth scenes.

Also, it has a spectacular cover. And just now, seconds before writing this sentence, I learned the author is the same as WorldNetDaily’s “Christian Libertarian” writer, “Vox Day.”

Hero, Second Class by Mitchell West

First-time novelist here, folks. Grin and be inspired! Yes, Mr. and Mrs. America, it could happen to you, too! I’m partway into this novel and enjoying it overall, and I look forward to writing a review once I’m through.

But already I can say that from a marketing standpoint, it’s tops. The cover is comical, the back description made me chuckle, and the author knows his fantasy conventions well and can spoof/tribute them just as well, especially from movies. For fantasy book conventions, the jokes seem less prevalent — for example, I was sorely disappointed to find no jokes embedded in the requisite Fantasy World Map. Regardless, it’s enjoyable. Even the bad jokes are so bad, they’re good. (“Destiny has decreed …” Groan/grin …)

Also, I’m still looking for any Overt Christian Messages to kick in, yet I won’t be bothered at all if it isn’t there and the end asking for me to Pray the Prayer. Perhaps this collegian author was substantive enough to present a theme of the “upset of the balance” between good and evil being exactly what the world really needs, even among the jokes? That’s my guess for now.

As an oft-attempted humorous-fiction writer myself, I could have a few suggestions for punching up the hilarity here and there (such as, someone has to be serious in a comedy book, and I recommend the narrator). So for me, maybe it’s more difficult to kid a kidder. And those familiar with The Princess Bride, Monty Python (I am darn sure that was a Holy Grail copy/tribute) and even the hilarious cartoon superhero spoof The Tick will note some similarities. Still, Hero, Second Class is so far a fun and different read. It’s also blessedly thick.

Off and on I run across comments that seem to indicate an element of conservative thought that is still suspicious of fantasy. I hesitate to say this kind of thinking comes from Christians because I have questions about those who cling legalistically to a set of do’s and don’ts they want to impose upon others. But for the most part, the objections to fantasy come from those who would include themselves in the camp of Christians.

Currently I’m reading Harry Potter, Narnia, and the Lord of the Rings by Richard Abanes (Harvest House). In this discussion, Abanes opens with an apology for fantasy. Perhaps his most powerful statement, however, is this:

We must never underestimate the power that a certain piece of literature, or body of literature, can have over a generation. It can ultimately affect society in general on a very large scale in years to come.

Especially with society’s current band-wagon mentality, it seems that an author’s influence can be widespread. What disturbs me is that critics holding to a legalistic view of fantasy elements are missing that truth. Or more accurately, their answer to that fact is to cocoon their children. If J. K. Rawling, for instance, is writing something outrageously popular, something that a generation of young people have been influenced by, but … horrors … which involves magic and wizards and ghosts and magic, well the answer is to condemn all fantasy and keep children away from it!

There are legitimate questions about magic and wizards and dragons and ghosts. The Bible is not silent on the subjects of sorcery, and reportedly mediums are under God’s judgment. But what does that have to do with fiction?

As Mr. Abanes points out, literature, and especially fantasy, creates a world that entwines the material world with the spiritual. I can’t help but wonder if the great rise in spirituality (often expressed in forms of Eastern religion) in this postmodern era doesn’t account in part for the elevated interest in fantasy.

Here, then, is the crutial point. If we as believers in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior want to engage our culture and give our eyewitness accounts of the good news, should we not enter the arena that offers a ready forum? Should we not be the premier fantasy writers? As yet, however, Christian fantasy, apart from the greats, has not taken our culture by storm. Not like Rowling did or Stephenie Meyer is doing.

Perhaps the Harry Potter phenomina or the vampire fixation are passing fads. But perhaps they are reading experiences that are helping to shape the thinking of a generation. Shouldn’t Bible-believing Christians see that as our job?

So what should we make of dragons … or magic or wizards or trolls or faeries? Do they belong in the stories our children read? Do they belong in the stories we Christian authors write?

John Olson’s Shade, released in 2008 from B&H Publishing Group. According to the acknowledgments in the back, John took an early draft of Shade to the Mount Hermon writer’s conference in 1998 and discovered that the Christian market wasn’t ready for a vampire story. Well, all things happen in God’s timing, not ours. Ten years later, the time was right and Shade was published. Hearing that story makes me excited about how things are slowly changing for Christian speculative fiction. Cool stuff is here. More cool stuff is coming.

Shade is the story of two people. Hailey is a graduate student who thinks she might be hallucinating. She’s certain a man chased her into Golden Gate Park and that a tall, homeless man rescued her. Melchi is a homeless man, and he did rescue Hailey from a vampire-like creature. But is Melchi as delusional as Hailey? Or maybe he’s the bad guy. Hailey is certain of one thing: there is no such thing as vampires.

This was a wonderfully “weird” novel with lots of interesting twists and turns. John B. Olson has a great way of hooking you with his unique characters. It was creepy, so I recommend it with caution to those who don’t like to be scared. You can read my book review for Shade here. There is a sequel to Shade coming out this fall called Powers. I’m really excited about it.