​This argument conveniently ignores two very important characters, Frodo and Gollum, whose struggles are central to the book, and both of whom ultimately succumb to the power of the Ring at the cost of their lives. Frodo is an example, per Tolkien,3 that there are moral tests which we are doomed to fail not through our own agency, but because they are simply too difficult to overcome. However, this “greyness” of character is presented just as starkly as any black or white attribute, because, I will argue, this is the mode of fantasy.

One exercise in the realm of fantasy is to divorce ourselves from realpolitik, to break down ideas and relationships into their component parts in order to facilitate understanding. If the reader will concede that Realism, whether in art, literature or role-playing, can never truly approach what is real, there seems to be utility in occasionally engaging with prototypical ideas, discussing the archetypes of our characters and the narrative into which they were born, in addition to the minutiae that comprise that narrative. At this point, it is useful to remember that Realism (big R) is a relatively modern concept,4 and not the only way to create or critique. Further, the moral ambiguity that is currently popular in books, film, and role-playing can be wonderful and thought-provoking, but it seems a real danger that “playing against type” becomes a stereotype in itself and, all too quickly, an allegory. Rather than narrate within the constraints of verisimilitude, fantasy, or any type of speculative fiction, frees the author to explore ideas in broad strokes, which will be argued is a worthwhile exercise. All this requires from the reader or player is suspension of disbelief.

 

The term Suspension of Disbelief was coined by Samuel Taylor Coleridge apropos of the supernatural.5 In the 20th century, the term evolved to imply that the burden was on the reader, rather than the writer, to achieve it. The concept was further developed into what Darko Suvin refers to as Cognitive Estrangement in science fiction.6 Tolkien himself disliked the term suspension of disbelief, preferring the phrase secondary belief, which relies on the immersion of the reader in a detailed and consistent world. He also famously disliked allegory, such as that of C.S. Lewis or William Blake. Per Tolkien “The magic of Faerie is not an end in itself, its virtue is in its operations: among these are the satisfaction of certain primordial human desires. One of these desires is to survey the depths of space and time. Another is … to hold communion with other living things.”7

Regardless of approach, the general idea is that speculative fiction must involve a willingness on the part of the reader to co-exist in two worlds at once, that which contains things and actions likely to transpire in our everyday life and that where unusual things and actions could also occur. In the realm of role-playing games, this is known as meta-gaming which, one might argue, one is always doing at some level.8 I know the difference between a glaive and a halberd, and I know what a Longsword +1 is, because I looked it up in a book, not my character. And though some weapons are real and some are magical, they coexist in my mind for the sake of consistency of the story.

This expanse of options in the fantasy realm actually adds to the credibility of the fantasy world. However, just as in any work of fiction, the details of a fantasy world could never approach those of the real world. Instead, the author or player relies on literary devices, such as analogy, to flesh out the world, and these analogs must be rooted in reality. But beyond analogy, fantasy role-playing allows us to engage in another, more important, activity.

 

Johan Huizinga defines play, in general, as:

 

…a voluntary activity or occupation executed within certain fixed limits of time and place, according to rules freely accepted but absolutely binding, having its aim in itself and accompanied by a feeling of tension, joy and the consciousness that it is “different” from “ordinary” life.9

 

And philosopher Randolph Feezell, after defining a “free act” as including some sort of self-identification with that act, concludes that:

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If play is a free activity, and freedom involves identification, then play deeply expresses what I am. Far from being unimportant or frivolous, the free activity of play expresses some aspect of myself that I take to be “real” or “authentic.”10

 

If we give some credence to this definition of play, we may then begin to see its applicability to  playing fantasy role-playing games. It is in those moments when we play, when we exist in two worlds at once, that we are able to think and say and do things that are authentic. It is in the arena of the “unreal” where we are most free to explore reality.

So where does this conception of play fit into creating a fantasy world or adventure? First, it underscores (perhaps unnecessarily) the complexity and utility of speculative fiction. If Tolkien hasn’t already dispelled the false polarity between literature fit for children vs. adults, I hope to have added to the argument. There is an important distinction between acting childish and acting childlike. Second, it demonstrates the unique opportunity presented in the world of fantasy not only to indulge and explore our imaginations, but also to examine “real” issues, freed from assiduous adherence to a particular view of reality. Third, in regards to fantasy role-playing, this conception of fantasy broadens the spectrum of possibilities for story-telling. Players can, as it were, have one foot in black and one in white simultaneously, allowing them to explore the possibilities of each, as well as the grey that lies between. Further, they are encouraged to examine their footing as part of the process.

 

Tolkien begins the foreword to the Second Edition of The Lord of the Rings with the statement “This tale grew in the telling.”11  Is this not a worthwhile pursuit in our games, to take part in a collaborative story that transforms and grows as players (and to some extent NPCs) see fit? Surely this goal is aided by beginning with strong notions of what is at stake, what each character’s motives are, and what each sees as a desirable resolution to the conflict, even if that desired end changes during the course of the game. The philosophical dialectic begins with opposing assertions which are examined and argued by interlocutors. The scientific method begins with a hypothesis followed by experimentation, testing, and modification. The end goal of each is rarely certainty, but usually a communal understanding of the matter at hand coupled with the joy of discovery. How much richer our game worlds can be if our adventures are populated with strong characters possessing strong motivations which are then heeded or dispensed with as we, the players, decide! This mode of play is the mode of fantasy: simultaneously engaging in the real and the speculative; contemplating the poles of morality; fulfilling the role of creator and creation; having, as it were, one foot in black and one foot in white, while exploring the spectrum that lies between.

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