This article was published in January 2010.

The end of the year means one thing for magazines: lists. Lists of bests. Lists of worsts. Lists of tops. Lists of bottoms. Lists of lists. Publisher’s Weekly caused an uproar when they released their list of Top 100 books for 2009. Only 29 female authors made the cut, and none of them cracked the top ten.

The Washington Post reacted with an article called “The key to literary success? Be a man — or write like one.” Salon.com responded in kind with “If you want to be a great writer, be a man.” Both articles were written by women, recalling advice from former college professors.

As I was reading both (valid) arguments that women get the shaft in publishing circles, I couldn’t help but compare the experiences of those women to the experiences of women in the fantasy genre. Sure, fantasy is full of epic male authors: Tolkien, Lewis, Jordan, Gaimen, Pratchett, Dahl. But fantasy also has its share of celebrated (and well-paid) female writers: Kurtz, Rice, Rowling, Weis, Bradley.

Is the fantasy genre simply more friendly to female writers?

I think so.

But why?

Let’s start by looking at the biggest bang (and bank account): J.K. Rowling.

By now, her personal journey is as well-known as that of of The Boy Who Lived. For example, that “K” in “J.K.” is not even her real name. When Bloomsbury bought Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, they feared that young boys wouldn’t want to read a fantasy tale by Joanne Rowling, so she adopted an androgynous “K.”

By the time Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire hit shelves, Rowling was the highest-profile author in the world, and everyone knew the “K” was for Kathleen. It didn’t matter that J.K. Rowling was a woman; what mattered was that she hurry back to her office and start writing about Hogwarts, Year Five.

Rowling also did another thing for female writers in the fantasy genre: she blurred the lines between children’s fiction and adult fiction. Women have always been trusted with cooking, cleaning and kids; so, the children’s publishing industry has historically been more accessible to females. During Harry Potter’s off-years, many adults went digging around in the children’s sections at their local bookstores, looking for an equally entrancing fantasy fix. And publishers paid attention.

But Rowling wasn’t the first woman to enjoy monetary success and critical praise for her fantasy writing. Before her, there were vampires — and three women who, er, brought them to life.

Marilyn Ross‘ Barnabas Collins series, Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles and Chelsea Quinn Yarbro’s Saint-German series changed the vampire genre. Under their pens, vampires became brooding, tragic, poetic heroes. And unlike the implicit sexual themes in vampire stories before theirs, Ross, Rice and Yarbro made it overt.

What they did for vampires, Marion Zimmer Bradley did for Arthurian Legend. Her Avalon series boldly turned Camelot on its head and examined it from the perspective of female narrators.

And what Bradley did for Arthurian Legend, Katherine Kurtz did for Medieval fantasy lit. And what Kurtz did for Medieval fantasy lit, Tanith Lee did for sorcery.

I think fantasy is more receptive to women writers because it has a long, proud history of financially successful female authors in nearly every subset of the genre. While most writers will tell you they want to bring fresh, engaging concepts to print, they will also tell you that it is much easier to get published if there’s a record of success with what you’re writing. To that end, it would be disingenuous to tell a female fantasy author that men won’t read her books simply because she is a woman.

Of course, financial success and excitement from publishers isn’t synonymous with critical acclaim. Even with the accomplishments of the women I mentioned — and the dozens I didn’t — last year’s Hugo Awards were awfully slim on female nominees. [Editor’s Note: This year was better.) But I’m still not going to cry sexism.

If you want to be a great fantasy writer, they key isn’t writing like a man; the key is writing rich, textured, deeply-imagined stories. As women continue to do just that, it will only be a matter of time before full parity comes to the genre.

Or you could take a shot at writing your main characters sparkly genitalia.

Stephanie Meyer isn’t exactly celebrated, but she certainly hasn’t gone broke writing about vampires.

This article was originally published in December 2009.

Where would fantasy heroes be without their trusted animal companions? Just like the rest of us with our pets, they’d be lost. So let’s take a look at some of the most memorable, shall we?

(Incidentally, there are plenty of fantasy stories that involve relationships between humans and magical creatures such as unicorns and dragons, but for the purposes of this article, we’re restricting ourselves only to creatures that have a real-life counterpart here on Earth!)

Scabbers (from Harry Potter)

Hapless Ron’s unpredictable pet rat Scabbers is, of course, not a real rat at all, but it’s not until the third book in the series that he’s revealed as the polymorphed Peter Pettigrew, a coward whose treachery led to the death of Harry’s parents. Pettigrew’s animal disguise plays an instrumental role in Prisoner of Azkaban, inspiring Sirius Black’s escape from prison after he recognizes the rat in a photograph, and Scabbers figures prominently into the book’s conclusion as well.

Coolness Factor: 2 (out of 5)
Loyalty: 1 (out of 5)
Importance to the Plot: 4 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Two Torches (Out of Five)

Argo (from Xena: Warrior Princess)

Xena is no ordinary warrior — so why should she have an ordinary horse? Sure enough, hers is extraordinarily intelligent, sensing danger, responding to a number of different commands, being able to command other horses, and even once enduring having been turned into a miniature version of herself. Speaking of which, is Argo male or female? While referred to as “boy” in earlier seasons, she is eventually identified as female (and was usually portrayed by a mare). The horse died during Xena and Gabrielle’s Ares-induced 25-year sleep in the ice-cave, but gave birth to a daughter, Argo II, who, remarkably, had all of Argo’s abilities.

Incidentally, did you ever wonder why Gabrielle had no horse? According to the producers speaking at a fan convention, it took three horses to make it look like Xena had one horse. For Gabrielle to have had a horse, that would have meant having six horses on hand — something that was financially impossible.

Coolness factor: 3 (out of 5)
Loyalty Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Importance to the Story: 2 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Three Torches (Out of Five)

Hedwig (Harry Potter)

There’s one question that every reader of the Harry Potter series has asked him or herself at least once: why don’t wizards have email? Then again, would you use email if you have something as cool as Hedwig, Harry’s pet snowy owl, to deliver messages to your friends? Hedwig is, of course, a gift from Hagrid, purchased in Diagon Alley in the first book in the series, and was definitely an owl with ‘tude, never willing to put up with Harry’s thoughtlessness. Sadly, Hedwig is killed in Deathly Hallows by none other than a stray curse.

Coolness Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Loyalty Factor: 4 (out of 5)
Importance to the Story: 2 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

The Animals of Aladdin

All the main characters in the animated Disney movie Aladdin share a bond with an animal that reflects his or her underlying personality: Aladdin has his impetuous monkey Abu, Jasmine has her regal tiger Rajah, and Jafar has his mean parrot Iogo. But the animal companions don’t just mimic their owners, they also reflect the underlying theme of the movie, which is more sophisticated than it seems at first glance: when you try to possess and enslave someone else, you ultimately end up enslaving yourself. True freedom, just like true love, only comes from freeing others and giving them the choice to set you free as well.

And for the record, it applies to life, but it also applies to our relationship with our real-world pets!

Coolness Factor: 3 (out of 5)
Loyalty Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Importance to the Story: 4 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Four Torches (Out of Five)

Daemons (from His Dark Materials)

In perhaps the most interesting aspect of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series of books, every human in that alternate-”Earth” is accompanied in life by a “daemon” — that person’s soul made manifest in the form of an animal. In children, the daemon changes forms, finally settling into a single animal upon adulthood — a creature that reflects that person’s underlying personality. Humans share a bond with this personification of their soul that is so intimate that touching another’s daemon is unthinkable. And while separating a human from his or her daemon is possible — and factors closely into the plot of the books — doing so turns both into virtual zombies.

Coolness Factor: 4 (out of 5)
Loyalty Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Importance to the Story: 5 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Four Torches (Out of Five)

The Talking Animals (from The Chronicles of Narnia)

With a few exceptions, it’s hard to find better companions than the talking animals of Narnia. Most of these animals rarely stretch beyond their stereotypes — donkeys are stupid, owls are wise, cats can be unreliable, and dogs are loyal. But every now and then, author C.S. Lewis surprises us, as with one of the most memorable of Narnia’s talking animals, Reepicheep: the bravest, most noble creature in all of Narnia (excepting Aslan) is none other than … a mouse. And then there is Aslan. Is there another story that turns an animal into a metaphor for God?

Coolness Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Loyalty Factor: 5 (out of 5)
Importance to the Story: 5 (out of 5)

Overall Rating:

Five Torches (Out of Five)

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

Q: What’s the real reason they split Deathly Hallows into two movies? Was it greed? – Erik, Athens, GA

The Oracle Speaks:

Not to hear the filmmakers tell it.

“When Steve Kloves began working on the screenplay, it became clear we would have to omit too much to do justice to Jo’s book in one film,” says producer David Heyman. “There were simply too many details that were integral to the resolution of the series.”

“The seventh book is all about resolution—the dotting of all the i’s and the crossing of all the t’s,” adds producer David Barron.

As for Daniel Radcliffe, he told the Los Angeles Times, “There have been compartmentalized subplots in the other books that have made them easier to cut — although those cuts were still to the horror of some fans — but the seventh book doesn’t really have any subplots. It’s one driving, pounding story from the word go…. [Two movies] was the only way we could tell the story in a complete and fulfilling way.”

Then again, that’s what they would say, isn’t it? It’s not like they’d come out and say, “Yeah, we just wanted to make a lot more money.”

Look, let’s be real here, okay? The Harry Potter movies have grossed a total of $5.4 billion dollars — with billions of dollars more in ancillary revenue (up to $20 billion total by some estimates). Does anyone really think they wouldn’t look for another reason to extend the franchise — a way that doesn’t seem too craven or cynical, so as to not provoke a backlash on the part of the audience?

It’s absolutely not a question of necessity: Deathly Hallows isn’t even the longest of the Harry Potter books — that’s Order of the Phoenix (although it’s arguable that, unlike Deathly Hallows, that book is simply over-written, and as Radcliffe suggests, that there’s more actual “story” in Hallows).

But do the fans really care that much? On the contrary, you could argue that fans would rather have the entire story told in two movies than have it be abbreviated for one.

Truthfully, I think the filmmakers were easily convinced to do something that would please most fans and just happened to be enormously profitable for them.

“Obviously the studio are very happy with that decision, let’s not kid ourselves,” Heyman has also said. “[Screenwriter] Steve [Kloves] called me the other day and said, ‘I think we can do three.’ I think he was joking of course.”

Q: Voldemort’s nose-less face: is that make-up or CGI? — Amy, Henderson, NV

A: It’s actually a combination of the two. The nose of Ralph Fiennes, who plays Voldemort, is removed digitally, but most of the rest of the face is prosthetics (on the forehead and eyebrows), make-up (covering the skin), and a network of temporary tattoos (for the veins).

Incidentally, this is how Rowling describes Voldemort: “a man, tall and skeletally thin” with a face that was “whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake’s with slits for nostrils … His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat’s, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness.”

I think they’ve done a reasonably effective, if pretty straightforward realization of the character.

Incidentally, what about Mad-Eye Moody’s eye? That’s entirely a prosthetic.

Q: Is it true that they didn’t decide where to split the story into two movies until they’d already written one long script and filmed it? — Myrna, Edmonton, Alberta

A: No. There was some confusion in the press, because the screenplays for the two movies were written at the same time, the movies were filmed at the same time, and some of the producers talked publicly about their tinkering with the ending once filming was completed. And, of course, they did test-screenings to find out if the ending they chose was “working.”

But even before the movie’s two scripts were written, the producers had a pretty clear idea of where they were going to end the first movie — and screenwriter Steve Kloves wrote that ending in his script (although it was subsequently altered).

Here’s producer David Heyman earlier this year:

The script [for Part 1] was written with an end in mind. The first draft was written with one ending and as we developed it, it went to another ending. And then we reverted in part to the original ending because we felt it allowed us a more emotional conclusion and felt like it was more complete, as it were. But we’ve added this other scene which I think is really amazing — and I can’t tell you where the break is, I’m sorry — but I do feel it will be incredibly dramatic, very moving and make people want to watch the next film.

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

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(Three and a Half Torches out of Five)

How much you like Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 will probably depend on how much you like the first half of the book it’s based on. As a filmed version of that part of the book, it’s pretty successful.

But as a “movie,” much-less as stand-alone entertainment that exists apart from the books? It has some significant problems.

First, the good news. The thing looks terrific. The way they tell that all-important story of The Three Brothers is breathtakingly beautiful — frankly, worthy of a short film Oscar.

The movie also has lots of action, and some touching emotional moments. I defy anyone not to be moved by the scene in which Hermione wipes her parents’ memories clean of her, in order to protect them.

There’s less humor than in previous movies, but the jokes that are there are pretty funny (including a hilarious dig at Daniel Radcliffe’s height early in the film).

Best of all, the film gives lots and lots of screen-time to its three terrific leads, Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint.

They’re sensational. And can I just say? I owe J.K. Rowling something of an apology. In the first few books (and movies), I was annoyed that the female protagonist was such a know-it-all stick-in-the-mud. The boys were always breaking the rules and having adventures, and she was off … studying (and reprimanding them for breaking the rules). It seemed vaguely stereotypical.

But by the end of the series, that stereotype has been subverted. Hermione is now clearly the acknowledged “leader” of the group: the smart, sensible, even-tempered, and responsible one — qualities you absolutely need when you’re trying to save the world from Great Evil and when your two other heroes are a hothead and a bumbler, respectively.

Finally, there’s the film’s ending, which isn’t a cliff-hanger exactly, but it’s quite a great cut-off point.

So what’s my problem with the film?

With two full two-and-a-half hour movies to fill, the producers have given themselves the luxury to film almost everything the book. Unfortunately, this means they include most of the book’s flaws.

When the characters strike off in search of the Sword of Gryffindor, but with no idea where to look, the movie really starts to bog down, just as the book did. The stars are as charming as actors get, but when it comes to angsty conversations about saving the world and Ron-Hermione jealousies, boy, have we already been there, done that.

When even your characters are complaining that nothing is happening in the story, you know you have a problem. Much of this could’ve been cut out had the producers choose to make this one movie.

Even worse, when the plot does move, it happens far too often as a result of contrivance: they just happen to notice an important symbol; Dobby just happens to appear in the nick of time (with the ability to save them); they just happen to get the help they need to find a certain item; when Ron becomes separated from the others, he just happens to have the perfect way to get back to them.

Yes, yes, these things are all eventually “explained,” but they usually have to be explained by the addition of yet another plot element — and these elements often feel forced or included only so they can resolve some piece of the plot.

I’ve had this argument with  Potter fans before, about what I see as plot-weaknesses in Rowling’s writing. I know many folks disagree with me, which is all well and good, but, well, I’m the one writing this review.

The real point is, if none of these things bothered you about the books, if it was all reading pleasure, then they won’t bother you about the movie either. You’ll probably love it.

But if you’re a reader like me, and you sometimes got frustrated by that aimlessness in the woods, and by the sometimes-convoluted nature of Rowling’s plotting, you’ll probably be at least a little frustrated with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 as well.

The article was originally published in November 2009.

Pan’s Labyrinth director Guillermo del Toro is currently at work on the two-part movie version of The Hobbit [editor's note: he since left the production]. Recently he talked to ComingSoon.net about his plans for the all-important look of the dragon, Smaug.

“The way Tolkien wrote it, already, is magnificent,” del Toro said. “It’s already a fantastic character. So, obviously, dragons, you ask every person what their best favorite dragon is, they will give you a different answer. In my mind, what we’re going to attempt on the design of this creature and the creation of this creature needs to push the envelope beyond anything you’ve ever seen on that kind of creature.”

Del Toro referred to the relatively few dragons that have been put on film over the years — not surprising given the costs involved. “One of the best and one of the strongest landmarks that almost nobody can overcome is Dragonslayer [a 1981 movie]. The design of the Vermithrax Pejorative is perhaps one of the most perfect creature designs ever made….I am bursting at the seams about spilling the beans [about our dragon], but I won’t because I would be shot.”

In anticipation of the movie, TheTorchOnline.com looks at — and rates — the most famous dragons that have existed on film, rating them from worst to best:

Dragonheart (1996)

GGI was newer, and we were all understandably excited. But it’s scary how quickly CGI can look dated. (The dragon in the Dragonheart sequel is downright laughable now.)

Dragon Rating: 2 Torches (Out of Five)

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)

A nice try, but too many horns (and actually a wyvern, not a dragon at all).

Dragon Rating: Three Torches (Out of Five)

The Hobbit (1977)

A little clunky now, but it made a strong impression on me at the time:

Dragon Rating: Three Torches (Out of Five)

Beowulf (2007)

Crappy movie, decent dragon, even if it doesn’t quite like a dragon “should”:

Dragon Rating: Three and Half Torches (Out of Five)

Eragon (2006)

Does anyone else think it looks like the Loch Ness Monster?

Dragon Rating: 4 Torches (out of Five)

Reign of Fire (2002)

Another bad movie with good dragons.

Dragon Rating: Four Torches (Out of Five)

The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad

Gotta love a classic. Yeah, it look s a little hackneyed by modern standards, but remember: Ray Harryhausen did this all in stop-motion, often by himself.

Dragon Rating: Four and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Technically this is a “winged nazgul,” or a ringwraith on a perodactyl, not a dragon at all, but like everything about the LOTR’s movies, it’s still flawless.

Dragon Rating: Five Torches (Out of Five)

Dragonslayer (1981)

Del Toro is right: this is still the gold standard of movie dragons — and it was even done in an era before CGI. How the hell did they do it?

Five Torches (Out of Five)

Interested in buying any of these dragon movies (or any other media product)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing them through this link.

This article was originally published in October 2009.

For those of you living under a rock, Zombieland opened last weekend and went quickly to number one (and we, of course, reviewed it here.) One of the clever moves of the film is that it takes your traditional Hero — muscular, confident, aggressive — and your standard Sidekick — smart but cowardly, neurotic — and flips them, so that we see the film through the eyes of the sidekick, played with hilarious gusto by Jesse Eisenberg.

Although the characters in the film aren’t aware of this switch, and continue on in their respective paths, we in the audience are clued in to the fact that this won’t be your traditional action/horror film. In fact, Eisenberg’s character, Columbus, in a moment of meta-consciousness, even refers to himself as “sort of a Sancho Panza-type.”

Sancho Panza was, of course, the prototypical sidekick, who traveled around at the side of Don Quixote in Miguel de Cervantes’ historic novel of the same name. Unlike the slender, intelligent Columbus, however, Sancho was overweight and dim, riding atop a donkey, yet lovable for his unshakable loyalty to his master, Quixote.

It is this loyalty that allows for Quixote to continue on in his quests, whether he’s aware of it or not, and like a truly great sidekick, Sancho never asks for affirmation. He simply is there for the hero, even though in this case, the hero is a delusional old man (which, perhaps, proves Sancho’s worth all the more.)

But while the sidekick has his or her place in a story, longer tales often develop the sidekick to the point where they’re on the same level as the hero, which is always satisfying for a reader or viewer. After all, haven’t we all, at some points in out lives, felt a lot more like Robin than Batman? So it’s small wonder we take comfort in the fact that Robin, the epitome of a sidekick, grew up and became Nightwing, a hero in his own right, on par with Batman.

In fantasy literature, perhaps one of the greatest examples of a sidekick rising up to the level of hero is Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings. Like Sancho, Sam is neither slim nor very smart, and for most of the story, Sam exists to cook food for Frodo and keep up his spirits, all the while contentedly walking behind his master on their epic quest.

But when Frodo is attacked and Sam believes he is dead, a change occurs in him, something visceral, something which can never be undone. He realizes that the fate of the Ring and indeed, the world, now rests solely on his humble shoulders, and so he stands up, picks up his master’s sword, and carries on.

Frodo didn’t die, of course, and the two hobbits are reunited, but things will never go back to the way they were before. By the end of their journey, Frodo has come to respect Sam as an equal, and when death again seems imminent, utters to Sam the famous words, “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.”

In the wake of Sam, it seems that the sidekick-turned-hero angle is all the rage. The most obvious example that springs to mind from contemporary is, of course, Gabrielle, the Battling Bard, whose popularity threatens to outshine that of the hero, Xena. Throughout the six seasons of Xena: Warrior Princess, we see as Gabrielle grows and changes from a feisty but physically weak farm girl into an accomplished warrior, inheriting Xena’s place after her death.

On Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Willow Rosenburg, who was naught but a vastly intelligent nerd, became aware of the existence of the supernatural when Buffy Summers came to town, and that indirectly resulted in her learning witchcraft to the point where she became the “most powerful witch in the western hemisphere.”

But as for my favorite sidekick? That would have to go to Ron Weasley, the bumbling poor kid who was just another Weasley sibling until he met up with Harry Potter in their first year at Hogwarts.

Come on, just look at that picture! If you didn’t say “Awww…” you’re made of stone.

Ron comes into Hogwarts the way many of us do any other school, frightened and overwhelmed, feeling very small and very alone. But by befriending Harry Potter, he assured his name would go down in the history books. Had it not been for Harry and all of the danger that followed him like a dark storm cloud, Ron might never have been tested as thoroughly as he was, thus never knowing his true potential.

While real life is never as cut-and-dry as fiction, sidekicks and heroes do exist, just as villains and henchmen do. But as fiction is  realizing, those roles are never binding, and we can easily go from being a lowly servant one moment to the savior of the world the next.

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

Q: It’s a fantasy trope that you can’t ever vanquish Great Evil completely: Sauron, Voldemort, the White Witch — somehow they always come back. I get that it’s a metaphor for how evil is eternal. But how does their ability to resurrect themselves work exactly? – MegaMouth, Manchester, NH

The Oracle Speaks:

This is a classic example of various authors basically starting from a philosophical “point” they want to make and working backwards from there: as you say, the point they’re making is that evil is a fundamental part of us all, and since we can’t ever deny our own natures, we can’t ever vanquish evil completely (although we can certainly reduce its influence and impact!).

But even apart from the fascinating philosophical question, the specifics are pretty interesting too: how do these powerfully evil beings always seem to survive death?

First, they find a magical means to ensure their immortality.

Voldemort, for example, created the multiple horcruxes — magical, hidden totems that stored bits of his soul, binding him to the material plane (Voldemort thought he had created six horcruxes — the only wizard ever to create more than one — but of course he had accidentally created seven, one being Harry Potter himself). But with each additional horcrux, he became less and less human.

Voldemort directed a Killing Curse at the infant Harry to prevent the prophecy that the boy was destined to kill him from coming true — but the spell rebounded, destroying Voldemort’s physical body (but not his soul, which was, of course, kept alive by the horcruxes).

Meanwhile, Sauron, who started out as an immortal anyway, created the One Ring to gain additional power and influence, forging it in secret to give him control over the other Rings of Power, but also requiring that he imbue it with much of his power and some degree of his essence. When Isildur cut the ring off Sauron’s finger in the War Against the Last Alliance, it destroyed his weakened physical body, but his soul lived on in hiding, desperate to regain the ring and the power it wielded over the other rings.

Finally, the White Witch (then known as Jadis) gained immortality by eating The Fruit of Everlasting Life shortly after Narnia’s creation. Subsequently, she somehow learned Deep Magic From the Dawn of Time, which bolstered her knowledge and power (but, alas, not Deeper Magic From Before the Dawn of Time, which ended up biting her in the ass).

But while these beings’ essences or souls were preserved from total destruction even in defeat, they eventually did need to draw at least some of the power necessary for regeneration from the evil in the hearts of their followers — reinforcing the authors’ philosophic point that evil lives on in the world because ultimately we allow it to.

Voldemort relies at first on weak-willed people like Quirrill and Peter Pettigrew — and later, he openly enlists other evil allies like Lucius Malfoy. But ultimately it’s the fear, prejudice, and lack of conviction on the part of the entire wizarding community that allows Voldemort to rise again.

Meanwhile, Sauron’s return to power, initially in the forests of Dol Guldur (part of Mirkwood Forest), is directly aided by the Nazgul, especially the Witch-King of Angmar — nine weak-willed former humans who were seduced and destroyed by the Rings of Power. Subsequently, infighting on the part of  the White Council and Saruman (who hoped to gain the One Ring for himself) allowed Sauron’s hatred and evil to grow unchecked.

As for the White Witch, in Prince Caspian, she is about to be brought back to life even after Aslan killed her in a previous book through black magic on the part of her evil followers, a hag and a werewolf, and also the weak-willed dwarf Nikabrik.

Incidentally, did the destruction of the One Ring in The Return of the King finally ultimately destroy Sauron, and did Harry’s defeat of Voldemort in Deathly Hallows kill the wizard?

In both cases, the answer is probably not.

In The Return of the King, Gandalf says:

If [the Ring] is destroyed, then he will fall, and his fall will be so low that none can foresee his arising ever again. For he will lose the best part of the strength that was native to him in his beginning, and all that was made or begun with that power will crumble, and he will be maimed for ever, becoming a mere spirit of malice that gnaws itself in the shadows, but cannot again grow or take shape. And so a great evil of this world will be removed.

As for Voldemort, J.K. Rowling reportedly said in a podcast that, post-Deathly Hallows, he would be similarly diminished, living on in a form like the vision Harry has of the piece of Voldemort’s soul inside himself: a flayed naked child, whimpering and abandoned under a bench. (Truthfully, this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but I thought a lot of Deathly Hallows was a stretch.)

As for the White Witch, some say she reappears in The Silver Chair, reincarnated as The Lady of the Green Kettle (Glimfeather the Owl says she’s “of the same crew”), but after that, she’s never heard from again.

But is she gone forever? You know the answer to that: absolutely not.

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

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Death: the undiscovered country. Why is it undiscovered? Because once you cross over into the Great Beyond, there’s no going back. As a result, those who are left behind in the world of the living have no way of knowing what’s coming next.

That’s the way it is in real life anyway. Things aren’t quite so straightforward in fantasy fiction, which frequently features characters dying and returning to life.

Sadly, fantasy authors are no more privy to knowledge of life after death than the rest of us, so these forays into the afterlife usually end up just telling us something about the character — a mere emotional truth, not a literal one about the nature of death.

Damn!

Still, let’s see what some of the more interesting and famous of these fantasy resurrections have to tell us, shall we?

Xena Warrior Princess (in “Fallen Angel”)

At the end of the fourth season of Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena and Gabrielle both died — victims of Caesar and the culmination of a prophecy given to Xena by the evil shaman Alti at the very start of the season.

Unlike most fantasy “deaths,” the “Fallen Angel” episode shows us exactly what happens to Xena and Gabrielle after they die: the episode is actually set in the world of heaven and hell. But Xena being Xena, she just can’t help getting involved in the eternal struggle between good and evil. I could write for pages about this wonderful episode, but suffice to say: it was a thrilling, knock-our-socks-off moment when we learn that Xena sacrifices herself, choosing to spend all of eternity in hell, not for Gabrielle (as we might expect), but for her uber-nemesis Callisto. Since Xena “created” Callisto, it makes perfect sense in retrospect.

Of course, Xena died other times over the course of the series — six times total, according to some estimates. And the last time she, um, didn’t come back to life. But it’s best not to think about that, right?

Aslan (in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe)

In one of the most famous “Christ” metaphors in all of literature, the god-lion Aslan allows himself to be sacrificed by the White Witch in exchange for the life of the traitor Edmund, which belongs to the witch as a result of “deep magic from the dawn of time.”

But surprise! As a result of “deeper magic from before the dawn of time,” which says that death is reversed when someone willingly sacrifices himself for another, Aslan comes back the next morning — which is really good, because otherwise the witch was going to kill them all anyway!

I know this story has profound meaning for Christians, which I respect, but as a non-Christian, I gotta say: this storyline has always struck me as a bit of clunky metaphor and a colossal plot-cheat. Wouldn’t it have been better if the Pevensie kids had been more active players in their own story?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (in “The Gift”)

In the sixth season musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy famously sings, “Hey, I’ve died twice.” But her most significant “death” may have been in the 5th season episode “The Gift,” when Buffy sacrifices her life to save her “new” sister Dawn by diving into (and closing) an inter-dimensional portal created by a god.

Later, Willow and the others perform a spell to “save” her … or do they? In the aforementioned musical episode, we finally learn why Buffy had been so depressed all season long: she was in heaven, finally at peace, and her friends ripped her back out again! Needless to say, the decision by Buffy’s friends to bring her back to life ends up having major ramifications, which — duh! — is exactly the way it should be.

Ged (in The Farthest Shore)

The Wizard Ged has it rough in Ursula le Guin’s The Earthsea Cycle series of books: first, he unleashes a shadow-being into the world that is impossible to “destroy.” And in The Farthest Shore, the third book in the series, he must cross the “wall” between life and death in order to stop an evil wizard who has opened a breach in the wall so that he may live forever.

Ged closes the breach, but it comes at a great cost: he loses his ability to do magic. Ged survives his fantastic (and very effectively written!) foray into the land of the dead, returning to the world of the living, and le Guin gives the character two endings: in one (later developed in subsequent books) he returns home, but in another, he sails off into the ocean, never to be seen again. The latter is a less optimistic, but bolder ending, implying — truthfully — that in any confrontation with Death, human beings ultimately always lose.

Thomas Covenant (in Fatal Revenant)

At the beginning of the Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant by Stephen R. Donaldson, Thomas Covenant, still in the “real” world, is stabbed in the chest by one of Lord Foul’s minions — but he and Linden Avery are transported into the magical “Land” before he can actually die. When, at the end of the three-book series, the main characters returns to the “real” world, Covenant is, in fact, dead.

Or is he? Linden hears his voice in the first book of the next series, The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, and eventually encounters a being who looks very much like him — although looks can sometimes be deceiving. Has Thomas Covenant really come back to life? Not yet, but he does later in the second book, once again by command of the all-powerful Earthblood.

In fantasy literature, humans never seem to learn some lessons, namely, that we should leave the damn dead alone! Oh, and drinking the all-powerful Earthblood is generally a bad idea too.

Frodo (in The Two Towers and The Return of the King)

Okay, so Frodo isn’t really killed by Shelob’s poison in his trek into Mordor over the Ephel Dúath mountains — he’s merely paralyzed by her venom so she can keep him “fresh.” But Sam, of course, thinks Frodo is dead and carries The One Ring on without him, and I’m including the encounter here because it serves as a example of the function that resurrection often serves in fantasy fiction: that of metaphorical rebirth. When Frodo and Sam both emerge from this encounter, they are different people, having learned important truths about themselves and even more determined to continue forward.

Interesting fact: The Two Towers includes material from Shelob’s POV, and these passages make it very clear that the giant spider is trying to “kill” Frodo with her bite, not just “paralyze” him. It’s later we learn (when Sam overhears the guards) that the venom is not fatal. A cheat on Tolkien’s part?

Harry Potter (in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

Does Harry “die” at the end of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, or is he merely killed, but before he “dies” is given the opportunity, by magic, to decide whether to live or die? Then again, it’s been established that Harry can’t kill Voldemort without dying himself, so it’s pretty clear that Harry has to be truly “dead” in at least some respect.

Speaking of plot cheats … I’m not trying to get into any arguments here, and I’ll grant that J.K. Rowling did, if you squint, just barely make her whole epic saga hang together in the end.

But Voldemorte accidentally made Harry a horcrux when he was a child and now can’t kill him, because he somehow also incorporated Lily’s protective charm into him? And brilliant mind and fantastic magic-user that he is, he didn’t figure any of this out (but Dumbledore did)?

Okay, that’s not strained at all. I do, however, buy the bit at the very end of Deathly Hallows, with the Elder Wand — that Harry might figure out who the wand’s true owner is and that Voldermort, in his supreme arrogance and over-confidence, would refuse to believe it, effectively condemning himself to death.

Which brings up another fantasy “resurrection”: that of Voldemort himself. He too had died previously and come back to life. In fact, plenty of fantasy villains — Voldemort, Lord Foul, Sauron — have “died” (or been vanquished) and somehow eventually reformed themselves and returned to “life.” Evil is never really “dead,” right?

But, alas, those resurrections will have to be the subject of another article!

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• Comedy Central’s Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire didn’t quite do it, but maybe the upcoming movie Your Highness will bring slapstick comedy back to fantasy. It’s due April 2011.

• Some great pics from ComicCon New York (right).

• A movie version of Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune video game is on the way, directed by David O. Russel (Three Kings). At this point, I should probably remind you that the track record of turning video games into successful movies is about 0 out of 500.

• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows won’t be 3D after all. (Thank God. Maybe this stupid 3D fad is coming to an end.)
  

• Yoda was the movie’s first animatronic puppet. But originally, the plan was for it to be a trained monkey in a mask and suit.

• DC Comics lowered their prices — now Marvel is following suit. Price war!

• Hey, Doctor Who is coming to the U.S. to film!

• Speaking of HP, here’s proof that J.K. Rowling really did have the plot all mapped out: here are some of her plot notes for Order of the Phoenix (right).

• The first pics from Spartacus: Gods of the Arena. I miss Andy Whitfield, but I love it already.

• Daniel Radcliffe, from boy to man, in pictures!

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• Multiple sources are reporting that New Line and MGM are (finally!) very close to greenlighting the two-part movie version of The Hobbit (but that it’s still not a done deal).

• I hate it when someone makes an off-hand comment, and it becomes huge international news, but in this case, I guess it sort of is news: J.K. Rowling doesn’t seem to have completely ruled out eventually writing another Harry Potter novel.

• An interview with “zombie” author Scott Edelman (The Human Race).

• Remember the story about Ridley Scott’s Alien prequel possibly falling apart over budgetary and “gore” issues? A Facebook page has been created to support him.

• The trailer is out for Megamind. I can’t stand Will Farrell, but I confess, it looks fun:

• Bioware is releasing an “ultimate” edition of Dragon Age: Origins at the end of the month. Basically, it’s the original game with the expanded edition and access to all the DLC’s.

• A family finds an actual sorcerer’s mirror (right) — okay, it’s not actually magic — and wonders what it’s worth.

• Looks like Emma Stone may be the new Mary Jane in the Spider-Man reboot.

• Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, the movie (based on the novel), is coming in 2012. And I’m already really sick of this add-monsters-to-the-classics trend.

• Elephants in Bantha costumes.

• Andrew Lloyd Weber is working on a retooled stage version of The Wizard of Oz. I’d be excited if I’d made it all the way through any play of his since Evita.

• The first book in R.A. Salvatore’s Neverwinter trilogy is out this week. Here’s the book-trailer:

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