A View from Elsewhere: The Spatiality of Children’s Fantasy Fiction Anthony Pavlik A thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of PhD School of English Literature, Language and Linguistics Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences Newcastle University April 2011 i Abstract Fantasy other worlds are often seen as alternatives with which to critique the ‘real’ world, or as offering spaces where child protagonists can take advantage of the otherness they encounter in their own process of maturation. However, such readings of fantasy other worlds, rather than celebrating heterogeneity, implicitly see ‘other’ spaces as ‘unreal’ and there either to support the real in some way, as being in some way inferior to the real, or in need of salvation by protagonists from the real world. This thesis proposes a reading of such texts that draws on social theories of constructed spatiality in order to examine first how, to varying degrees, and depending upon the attitude of authors towards the figure of the child, such ‘fantasy’ places can be seen as potentially real “thirdspaces” of performance and agency for protagonists, and thus as neutral spaces of activity rather than confrontation or growth and, second, how such presentations may be seen as reflecting back into the potential for the spatial activity of readers. ii Acknowledgements When I started on the PhD process, the road I travelled along was by no means a straight one. Confident, arrogantly so perhaps, in my abilities, I took many wrong turns. Had I continued along that road, I would never have completed this thesis, and so I wish to thank those who have helped to keep me broadly on the straight and narrow. First, and foremost, my special thanks go to Professor Kimberly Reynolds, who was willing to take me on as a doctoral student in the first place. Had she not believed in me and agreed to accept me, when others did not, my journey may well have stopped right there and then. She guided me through the initial stages, and she provided a constant and much valued point of contact with the world of children’s literature throughout my meanderings. My thanks also go to Professor Kate Chedzgoy, who took over as my supervisor half way through the process and provided valuable critical feedback on my writing and my ideas, and who got me to the final torturous stages of the journey to completion, even though I rarely managed to stay on schedule. Finally, I would also like to offer my special thanks to Hazel Sheeky and Dr. Madelyn Travis, fellow travellers on the PhD path, who gave me invaluable moral support, encouragement and assistance when I most needed it, and helped me to feel that I was not a lone traveller. iii Table of Contents ABSTRACT....................................................................................................................................i ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS..........................................................................................................ii INTRODUCTION.........................................................................................................................1 CHAPTER ONE: A THIRD WAY............................................................................................33 REAL AND/OR UNREAL..............................................................................................................34 THIRDSPACE.............................................................................................................................37 SPATIAL PRACTICE AND SPATIAL PRESENCE............................................................................42 LITERARY THIRDSPACE............................................................................................................47 EXITS AND ENTRANCES............................................................................................................60 A SPACE OF PLAY.....................................................................................................................71 CONCLUDING REMARKS............................................................................................................81 CHAPTER TWO: NO PLACE LIKE HOME.........................................................................86 CONTROLLED SPACES IN MRS MOLESWORTH’S THE CUCKOO CLOCK.....................................88 THE CONFUSED SPATIALITY OF C. S. LEWIS’S THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA.......................100 CASTLES IN THE AIR: PHILIP PULLMAN’S HIS DARK MATERIALS.........................................115 CLOSING DOORS IN NEIL GAIMAN’S CORALINE.....................................................................128 CONCLUDING REMARKS..........................................................................................................137 CHAPTER THREE: BEING THERE....................................................................................140 WORLD-BUILDING IN EDITH NESBIT’S THE MAGIC CITY......................................................141 PICTURING THIRDSPACE: SENDAK’S WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE...................................155 THE SPATIAL PRESENCE OF WILLIAM MAYNE’S A GAME OF DARK......................................164 SPATIAL NOMADISM: DIANA WYNNE JONES’S THE HOMEWARD BOUNDERS........................171 MAPPING IMAGINED OTHER WORLDS IN N. E. BODE’S THE SLIPPERY MAP.........................182 CONCLUDING REMARKS..........................................................................................................191 iv CHAPTER FOUR: WHERE ARE WE NOW?.....................................................................194 VISUALISING THIRDSPACE......................................................................................................197 THE TEXT IN PLAY..................................................................................................................213 TRAVERSING WORLDS—FAMILIAR OR STRANGE...................................................................217 SPACES OF LIVED LIVES.........................................................................................................226 BUILDING BRIDGES IN KATHERINE PATERSON’S BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA............................230 CONCLUDING REMARKS..........................................................................................................239 CONCLUSION..........................................................................................................................248 ENDNOTES...............................................................................................................................260 WORKS CITED........................................................................................................................269 PRIMARY TEXTS......................................................................................................................269 SECONDARY TEXTS.................................................................................................................270 1 Introduction No story, irrespective of type or genre, is ever really placeless. Whilst the time of a story may be unclear or ambiguous (as is the case with those fairy tales that start with “once upon a time”, or with the non-linear texts in what might be termed postmodern fiction), place will always have a specific presence of some kind (even if it is the space of the human mind). In fantasy novels in particular, there is “a very strong sense of landscape” (Manlove, Fantasy 1) and, here, I will be examining a very particular type of fantasy narrative landscape: the ‘other worlds’ in fantasy fiction for children. More specifically, this type of fiction presents worlds that are, in theory, “outside the realm of the possible” (Doležel, Heterocosmica 165), worlds that are different from the represented world of quotidian consensus reality, but which connect to that consensus reality in some way (which includes those instances where the ‘other’ realm erupts into consensus reality). To a large degree, the spatial nature of such fantasy texts remains largely unexplored. It is true that attention has been given to questions of place and space in individual texts.1 However, it remains the case that children’s literature criticism generally “has not paid enough attention to questions of spatiality [...] and has rarely attempted to theorise the nature of place and space in children’s literature” (Bavidge 323).2 My aim in this thesis is to redress this general lack. As Franco Moretti observes, “each space determines, or at least encourages, its own kind of story,” such that “what happens depends a lot on where it happens (70, original emphasis). Moretti’s observation argues for an importance for space in the novel that is not always matched by the attention given to it. Clearly, writers make conscious choices about situating narratives 2 within these multiple world contexts, which inevitably places an additional emphasis on their spatial nature beyond their being merely “the theatre, the disinterested stage or setting, of action” (Lefebvre 410), as simply back-drops for the adventures of the child protagonists. This way of thinking about the spatiality of fiction argues for the spatial in fantasy ‘other world’ fiction as being an important textual element in the communication and reception of meaning for, in fantasy fiction, “it is the spatial that determines the realm of textual dynamics” (Armitt, Theorising 5). Indeed, in some fantasy novels, “the fantastic worlds generate the action,” whilst in others, “[t]he world is the action, and, therefore, the fantasy” (Hume 160, original emphasis). As such, these worlds demand considered attention because, clearly, they have a significant function in the texts. Understanding fantasy ‘other world’ fiction’s places (as fixed, physical locations) and spaces (as constructed and used sites of activity) is important because, as Jenny Bavidge notes, studying the spatiality of children’s literature can reveal “the discourses by which places are made visible in children’s literature,” and how “narrative logics and representative strategies of children’s literature have their own spatial politics” (323).3 Thus, the spatial analysis I set out will examine both how, to very varying degrees, the spatial may (or may not) be generated by protagonists, and how protagonists negotiate and use, manipulate and transgress places and spaces, whether that is to offer ways to evade efforts to discipline and regulate them, or as a more subtle expression of control. Taking Roger Schlobin’s point that “the key to the fantastic is how its universes work, which is sometimes what they are, but is always why and how they are” (para. 16), this thesis examines how and why spatiality is represented, 3 how it functions and is used in fantasy ‘other world’ novels for children, and how that spatiality operates both for and against child protagonists in differing ways. To undertake this examination, I have avoided categories such as parallel, alternate, mirror, or secondary worlds because often these can be synonymous in practice and function, if not in design. Instead, I will approach this narrative spatiality in terms of the degree to which an entirely separate thirdspace of action and activity is opened up, a type of space that can be actualised (or not) by child protagonists in different ways, including as a performance of play.4 In addition, the degree of child protagonists’ involvement in the construction of spaces within such fantasy novels can also reveal a number of things. These include the extent to which the texts embed and manifest shifting and various views of adult-child power relationships on a spatial level, what is made available to the protagonists (and, in turn, readers), and how they operate both for or against the child protagonists, and for and against readers (both child and adult). On a simple level, these possibilities can be seen when comparing the spaces of ‘other world’ fantasy fiction to that of fairy tales since ‘fairyland’ is a “space where things happen, not a place of itself” (Hunt, “Introduction” 12). A fairy tale setting is more often than not undefined, but singular, and “fairy tales take place in one magical world, detached from our own both in space and in time,” observes Maria Nikolajeva, placed in an “imaginary world, which does not have any connection with reality, at least not the reader/listener’s reality” (“Fairy Tale” 141, 142). This separateness is not the case with fantasy ‘other worlds’ at all, where some kind of connection, however tenuous is generally present. 4 This spatial approach will also work very broadly within David Rudd’s suggestion that the “problematic of children’s literature lies in the gap between the ‘constructed’ and the ‘constructive’ child” (30) on the basis that child protagonists can have, as Rudd says, “subject positions available to them” (31), positions that can operate outside traditionally conceived power structures. This analysis of the spatial dynamics in fiction will show, sometimes in contrast to accepted readings, that a spatial approach to children’s fantasy fiction reveals much in terms of the degree to which it provides the potential for autonomous action (and the nature of that action), and the opportunity for agency on the part of child protagonists. The need to attend, as Mavis Reimer and Clare Bradford point out of texts generally, to “how texts work, to the discourses circulating within texts and to the ways in which such discourses produce meanings” (215, original emphasis) begs the question of how to discuss this spatial element and how it operates in ways that offer most potential for approaching children’s fantasy other world fiction. As Lucie Armitt suggests of fantasy, “while it projects us beyond the horizon on the level of content,” at the same time it “harnesses us within clearly defined constraints on the level of narrative structure” (Fantasy 7). The first problem, then, is how to approach the spatiality of ‘other world’ fantasy novels for children through the narrative structure and in more than just a descriptive fashion; what means are available to afford due attention to these narrative representations of spatiality? Traditionally, narrative theory has argued that a work of fiction need only really be analysed in terms of its plot events and, to a lesser extent, characterisation: “[t]he setting ‘sets the character off’ in the usual figurative 5 sense of the expression; it is the place and collection of objects ‘against which’ his actions and passions appropriately emerge” (Chatman 138–9). In effect, the predominant narratological perspective, as Susan Stanford Friedman points out, is that “[w]hat happens to characters in time is the ‘figure’ we pay attention to; where the plot happens in space is the ‘ground’ we can ignore at will” (194).5 This somewhat dismissive narratological approach to the spatiality of fiction is no less true in children’s literature, where a common perspective is that, “while children’s stories contain descriptions of setting and character, they concentrate on action—on what happens next. Their main focus is always,” says Perry Nodelman, “on the events of the plot” (Pleasure 160–1), and the places and spaces where those plot events take place are of minimal concern. Even Nikolajeva, whilst arguing the case for narratology’s benefits in the study of children’s literature, and despite asserting that narrative theory “is particularly applicable in children’s literature scholarship” (“Beyond” 5), does not consider the spatial at all. As a result, although Mieke Bal does observe that “few concepts deriving from the theory of narrative text are as self-evident” as the spatial (Narratology 132), the spatial has often been regarded as a part of description in general and, therefore, as “quite naturally the ancilla narrationis, the ever-necessary, ever-submissive, never emancipated slave” (Genette, “Frontiers” 848). Narratological theories, at least in the past, have largely ignored it, seeing it as being a descriptive, rather than a discursive, element of texts, “a fixed element of the text, added to provide emotional coloring or decor, and thus of secondary importance” (Martin 122).6 This approach to the spatiality of narrative has been the case even though it would seem axiomatic that “spatial reference [is] not an optional or peripheral feature of stories, but rather a core
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