No longer consigned to nerdy teenage boys, the appeal of fantasy literature is only growing, and the genre itself is changing too, writes Lucy Nichols

Fantasy literature seems to be only growing in popularity and has arguably eclipsed its sister in speculative fiction, Sci-fi. It is no longer a genre confined to the stereotype of nerdy teenage boys. Even women read, write and watch fantasy now. 

The fantastic in literature is nothing new. People have been telling magical and mystical stories of heroes and villains for centuries. 

Globally, fantasy has its origins in folklore, told by slaves, peasants, and working men alike. As Gramsci pointed out, folklore often reflects the ideas of the dominant class. Folklore passed on through oral traditions can promote conservative and old-fashioned ideas: the happy ending to many stories is often monogamous, heterosexual marriage. Heroes and heroines are often royalty. There is not much working-class struggle found in the Brothers Grimm.

The genre is changing, however. Now we have fantasy in film, television, video games and books. Chick-lit is back with a vengeance in the form of ‘Romantasy’ – the low-brow combination of Romance and Fantasy genres, with a heavy dash of erotica thrown in the mix. This new genre is incredibly easy to read and is aggressively marketed towards women (because of course all we care about is smut and handsome princes).

As well as just sex, fantasy more and more takes on themes of war, apocalypse, violence, and genocide. The Poppy War by RF Kuang depicts a genocide. With the many horrors of the Israeli destruction of Gaza in mind, it is the most disturbing piece of literature I have ever read. It is a far cry from even Tolkien’s great wars.

As a generalisation and certainly not a rule, more modern fantasy also lends itself to conservatism. The work of Ursula K. Le Guin, William Morris, China Miéville proves that fantasy can be subversive and progressive, but this is rare.

There is a romanticisation of the past, the glorification of imperial wars, and sometimes the promotion of one (fictional) race as being superior to others, or of one particularly evil race. Many fantasy authors use their work as analogical for religion. C.S. Lewis does this very obviously, but so does Brandon Sanderson.

Utopian settings are blighted by some kind of invading, otherised evil, which must be destroyed often by a single hero. Contrast this with the trope in Science Fiction of there being fundamental societal problems that can only be solved by some kind of revolution (see The Hunger Games or Star Wars).

Women too are often maligned, victimised and misrepresented in fantasy. True, women are today more likely to be heroes of fantasy stories than in the past, but they are also frequently depicted nude, sexualised or victim to violence.

The most popular fantasy television series of all time, Game of Thrones, treated women horrendously. Despite having a smattering of female characters, George R.R. Martin included scenes of graphic sex and sexual violence in his books, many of which made it onto the HBO television adaptation. 

It is hard to justify reading fantasy as a Marxist, given its lack of political cadence and undeniable conservative bent. It would be far easier to be a Science Fiction lover, which is undeniably progressive. 

Fantasy is increasingly popular amongst the masses, class conscious or otherwise. Perhaps people are growing so fed-up with their lives that realism just doesn’t cut it anymore, and we need some form of escapism to cope. Whatever the reason, popular culture should not be ignored by Marxists, not even culture as ostensibly unpolitical as fantasy literature. Perhaps we should follow in the footsteps of Ursula K. Le Guin, and start writing our own.

From this month’s Counterfire freesheet