how to (safely) use figurative speech in fantasy
My last post (on units of measurement in fantasy fiction) has me thinking about a related topic: linguistic disconnects that challenge suspension of disbelief, like slang and words derived from proper names. In short, colloquialisms in fantasy. We write in worlds that are not Earth, that do not share our history. Unless your premise accommodates for that — alternate reality, or a secret world hidden within our own — your characters don’t speak English.
So why is their speech so familiar?
If that doesn’t concern you, so be it: I’m not here to change you. I, however, am one intensely nitpicking nerd who needs to feel like things make sense. So, I had to come up with a logical framework I can plug questionable words and phrases into.
it wasn’t in English, but now it is!
The answer I went with was translation: the stories I relate come from a different place where obviously they speak differently, and I, the author, have translated them into English for your enjoyment. (You’re welcome!) This helps me frame the query for any given word or phrase. Yes, the story is in English now, but it wasn’t originally. Is this something a person from an entirely different reality would have said?
words derived from proper names
Now obviously this is tricky. When a thing is named after a person, it implies that they invented it. Still, was the world truly free of people who enjoyed causing pain until the Marquis de Sade came along? I refuse to believe that the concept of caching meat between pieces of bread in order to create a handy, utensil-free meal would never have occurred to our species absent 1 portly Englishman. The existence of tacos and pita pockets prove, in my opinion, that there’s something intuitive about the idea.
I guess the rule here is, Does it depend on its namesake, or could any Jane Average have come up with the same idea? A magical Faraday cage would be a neat device, but is that really the ideal name for it?
obscenity
Anyone who knows me IRL will be aware that I curse like a sailor. This is something I bring to my stories because I would feel as if I wasn’t being true to myself if I didn’t, but it’s hard to rationalize within the rules I’ve established. What is and isn’t considered obscene language is totally arbitrary, with the exception of the word ‘moist,’ which is just inherently revolting. Many writers have invented curses; the example that springs to mind is ‘blood and ashes’ from Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time. We know it’s verboten because characters get their mouths washed out for saying it: easy and straightforward. Not hard for the reader to understand or remember.
But it’s not something I do, and here’s why. On my first day of law school, my contracts prof dropped the F-bomb, and I’ve never witnessed a more perfect moment to illustrate why we call it that: that naughty word hit that classroom like a megaton warhead. It sent a palpable shockwave through my fellow students, as everyone stepped back and reassessed. We were in grownup college now, and it didn’t bear much resemblance to the experience we were accustomed to. People weren’t necessarily going to be nice or mannered and it was up to us to deal with it. The paradigm had shifted, and 1 monosyllabic 4-letter word was all the cue anyone needed to perceive it.
That experience is why I use curses my readers know and not ones I’ve invented. Oaths are taboo, it’s their defining quality. In my opinion, you just can’t get that visceral impact with a word you created and assigned Bad Word status to in a fictional work. In the end, I can’t really justify this by means of my stated philosophy. I want my writing to be an experience readers don’t just know but feel, and language is a facet of immersion, of living in the moment.
figurative speech
Okay, so all my ‘rules’ thus far just look like excuses to cheat. Let’s examine a realm where I’m rather more strict: IDIOMS.
What can I say but: beware of colloquialisms. As is a good rule of thumb with most anything, make sure you know where it’s been before handling it. End run and left field derive from modern real-world sports; the latter, specifically the Chicago Cubs before they moved to Wrigley. Unless your world has chess, people shouldn’t be tipping over kings when they concede defeat.
Also consider science: does the phrase you want to use jibe with the level of scientific and mathematical advancement in your fictional civilization? Is there a historicity to the phrase that makes it weird in the context in which you’re using it? If it’s the iron age, your characters probably can’t be galvanized by an experience. And nobody expects the (Spanish) Inquisition in a world without a Catholic Church.
Maybe it feels like an awful lot of trouble to go through when my mantra is always: write what your reader feels, form < substance. Thanks to the internet, though, you can answer these questions in a matter of seconds. A tiny bit of research can be the difference between knocking a reader out of the narrative or drawing them in.
in sum
Maybe you’re reading this and thinking: Burnell, who gives a toss? Okay, you’re a nit-picking crazy person, it doesn’t mean your readers are. And you may have a point. One of my parents is a scientist, it’s how I was raised. I crave ordered taxonomies, even when they’re fictional. Write a story powerful-enough and movingly original, I will forgive you almost anything. But I’ll certainly notice inconsistencies, and they will chafe at me. That’s my candid opinion not only as a writer, but a lifelong reader of fantasy fiction.
In the end, there is no right answer to any of the questions I raise. Maybe the exceptions I make are precisely the ones that most challenge your suspension of disbelief. For fantasy writers, ultimately the only rules are what makes sense to you and what you can clearly convey to your readers. And of course, those are more what you would call guidelines.
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