Just finished reading ‘Memory of Light’, the fourteenth and last installment of the Wheel of Time series. THANK GOD IT’S OVER. Robert Jordan, RIP. Brandon Sanderson did a stellar job, though we wish it could have been you. Over 4 million words and as many bodies later, we can finally let go.The light illumine you.
Talking of body count, why does it have to be so high? It’s like every fantasy series out there tries to outdo each other in gruesomeness. Even YA has become grisly. Hundreds of thousands of limbs must be hacked away, and rivers of blood must flow, in order to sustain our interest.
I am reminded of something a Faerie says to Jackie, the fabled Jack of Kinrowan in Charles de Lint’s books. People believe more readily in the dark than they do in the light. They will admit to being scared of ghosts, but they will laugh at the possibility of faeiries. Why is one more plausible than the other?
We go to the theatre to see horror movies; we want to be frightened. Perhaps it has something to do with race memory, of the time when predator and prey was the most basic relationship, and over fifteen percent of humans died by violence (as opposed to 0.03% today). It might explain why Winnie the Pooh is less of a draw than, say, blood-sucking zombies.
Personally, I prefer Winnie the Pooh. In the same way that I prefer Phillip Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” and JK Rowling’s “Harry Potter” to the torture porn churned out by the adult fantasy industry today.