Tropes and Patterns

Generations of men, throughout recorded time, have always told and retold two stories - that of a lost ship which searches the Mediterranean Seas for a dearly loved island, and that of a God who is crucified on Golgotha.

(Jorge Luis Borges)

The storytelling tropes collected in TV Tropes (warning: the site can consume hours of your life) are, in a way, analogous to software designs patterns, only for fiction writing. Although some should be considered antipatterns more than anything else...

One can daydream about expressing all those tropes in a machine-understandable form, and feeding them to some kind of automated story generation device.

See also The Grand List Of Console Role Playing Game Clichés, The Big List of RPG Plots, The Grand List of Overused Science Fiction Clichés and Strange Horizon's Stories We've Seen Too Often. Let's not forget Georges Polti's The Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations, either. More pop-culture goodness at Don Marksteins's Toonopedia, Scott Shaw's Oddball Comics, and of course at Superdickery.

The Penis is Evil

"The penis is evil. The penis shoots seeds, and makes new life, and poisons the earth with a plague of men, as once it was. But the gun shoots death, and purifies the earth of the filth of brutals. Go forth and kill!" Why oh why there can't be more science fiction movies like Zardoz?

I think Borges would agree with Zardoz, about penises if not about guns. "Mirrors and copulation are abominable." Come to think of it, wasn't a long mirror scene of some kind in Zardoz?

Wikipedia has a list of fictional depictions of immortality, including Zardoz and Borges' The Immortal. But, no Jack Vance's To Live Forever!

A remake of Zardoz could tap into modern blue state / red state anxieties in the US. The problem is, where to find an actor as hairy as Connery? Because Zed must be hairy, to make him stand out from the effete, metrosexual immortals. And yet, I don't think Robin Williams would be good for the part.

El Libro de Oro

Al parecer, la Fundación Paul Allen posee un cierto número de Ediciones Integrales de Vance, que está dispuesta a donar sin coste alguno para los recipientes. Detalles aquí.

Creo que la Biblioteca Nacional de Argentina debería solicitar esa donación. El por qué es evidente...

En un capítulo de La Sombra del Torturador de Gene Wolfe, se narra el encuentro del protagonista con un bibliotecario ciego y anciano llamado Ultan, responsable de la biblioteca real en la ciudad de Nessus. El bibliotecario le habla de un método para reclutar aprendices propio del gremio: El Libro de Oro. Es éste un volumen tan absolutamente fascinante que, cuando se lo presentan a un niño, queda totalmente embelesado por él, y a partir de entonces orienta su vida al servicio de los libros.

Ultan es claramente Jorge Luis Borges; la inmensa biblioteca que supervisa se podría considerar un trasunto de Biblioteca Nacional Argentina en Buenos Aires, de la que Borges fue director durante 18 años. (Al parecer, Wolfe da indicios en su novela de que la ciudad de Nessus es una versión futura de Buenos Aires. Aunque a mí se me escaparon, la verdad.)

Ahora bien: Gene Wolfe ha mencionado en entrevistas que, para él, el Libro de Oro que leyó en su adolescencia fue... La Tierra Moribunda de Jack Vance. Por lo tanto, ¿qué mejor método de asegurar que el Libro de Oro se encuentre en la biblioteca de Ultan que solicitando la donación?

Obvio, ¿no?

Borges and Lovecraft

A penchant for inventing fictional books. A disregard of the mere human experience as a worthy subject for literature. A preference for the short form. Bookish protagonists. Overbearing mothers. A horror of sex.

M. John Harrison on worldbuilding

He doesn't like it.

Worldbuilding is dull. Worldbuilding literalises the urge to invent. Worldbuilding gives an unneccessary permission for acts of writing (indeed, for acts of reading). Worldbuilding numbs the reader’s ability to fulfil their part of the bargain, because it believes that it has to do everything around here if anything is going to get done.

Harrison practices what he preaches. In his series of tales about the city of Viriconium, he purposefully frustrates the reader's expectations on worldbuilding by eschewing continuity both in setting and in character. The city is a little different each time (even the name changes). The characters are permutations of a few archetypes, and don't carry over from tale to tale.

And yet, I think that technique is not completely successful in frustrating the cult of the imaginary world. Character archetypes and their variations are a staple of role-playing games. Dungeon Masters routinely modify existing settings to suit their whims. The changing nature of reality is a feature of settings like Planescape or Mage: The Ascension. One could say that Harrison has actually made it easier to become obsessed with Viriconium, in a more interactive way.

There's a similarity with videogames here. Videogame makers also hate worldbuilding. Not for aesthetic or moral reasons, but for economic ones. Each little detail in a gameworld must be put there by some guy. Paying that guy costs money. Waiting for him to finish costs time. That's why some designers resort to procedural content generation, an approach through which a new gameworld is created every time you start a game, by arranging a few basic building blocks in a random (to some degree) fashion. This approach could be considered the gaming analogue of Harrison's technique. If The Lord of the Rings is Final Fantasy, then Viriconium is Dwarf Fortress.

By the way, I think Borges' short story The Aleph is a very fitting literary illustration of Harrison's concerns:

As in many of Borges's short stories, the protagonist is a fictionalized version of the author. At the beginning of the story, he is mourning the recent death of a woman whom he loved, named Beatriz Viterbo, and resolves to stop by the house of her family to pay his respects. Over time, he comes to know her first cousin, Carlos Argentino Daneri, a mediocre poet with a vastly exaggerated view of his own talent who has made it his lifelong quest to write an epic poem that describes every single location on the planet in excruciatingly fine detail.

(Wikipedia entry for The Aleph)

Not to mention that Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius is actually about the dangers of becoming too obsessed with worldbuilding.