Fantasy Art and Studies 10 E-Book

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Fantasy Art and Studies
• Sprache: Französisch

Seitenzahl: 228

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Fantasy et musique sont étroitement liés à travers l'association de la musique aux pouvoirs créateurs. Les auteurs et les chercheurs du 10e numéro de Fantasy Art and Studies explorent le lien privilégié entre musique et Fantasy, de la musique créatrice d'univers à la musique qui sauve et qui transforme, en passant par les rapports entre création musicale et inspiration littéraire. Un numéro superbement illustré par GaëlleC., Hélène Gauthier, Guillaume Labrude, Maïwenn-Iman Le Garff, Antoine Pelloux, Emmanuelle Ramberg et Véronique Thill, et comprenant un nouveau chapitre de la BD de Guillaume Labrude. Fantasy and music are closely linked through the association of music with creative powers. The authors and researchers of the 10th issue of Fantasy Art and Studies explore the special link between music and fantasy, from world-building music to saving and transforming music, and the relationship between musical creation and creative writing. A beautifully illustrated issue by GaëlleC., Hélène Gauthier, Guillaume Labrude, Maïwenn-Iman Le Garff, Antoine Pelloux, Emmanuelle Ramberg and Véronique Thill, including a new chapter of Guillaume Labrude's comics.

Leseprobe

Directrice de publication et éditrice / Publication director and editor : Viviane Bergue

Coordinateurs du numéro / Coordinators of the issue : Caroline Duvezin-Caubet, Monis Enidra

Comité de lecture / Reading board : Viviane Bergue, Justine Breton, Sandra Delanchy, Caroline Duvezin-Caubet, Monis Enidra, Guillaume Labrude, Siegfried Würtz

Illustrateurs / Illustrators : GaëlleC., Hélène Gauthier, Guillaume Labrude, Maïwenn-Iman Le Garff, Antoine Pelloux, Emmanuelle Ramberg, Véronique Thill

Illustration de couverture / Cover illustration : Véronique Thill

Maquette et conception graphique / Layout and graphic design : Antoine Pelloux

Dépôt légal / Legal deposit : juin/ June 2021

ISBN ebook : 978-2-901099-19-2 ISSN : 2646-5132

Les textes et les illustrations sont la propriété de leurs auteurs et ne peuvent être copiés ou reproduits sans leur consentement.

All texts and illustrations are the properties of their respective authors and cannot be copied or reproduced without their consent.

Revue imprimée en Allemagne et distribuée par Books on Demand, GmbH.

Fantasy Art and Studies est édité par les Têtes Imaginaires, association de loi 1901.

© Guillaume Labrude

Sommaire / Contents

Edito 4

Article.Bring the Beat: Music as Inspiration for Urban Fantasy, de/by Shiri Weinbaum Sondheimer 6

Fiction.Le Chant des Ascendants, de/ by A. C. Roustand 17

Fiction.Larme de chance, de/by Hétonque 27

Article.Entre Black Metal et Dungeon Synth : Summoning et la mise en musique de l’univers tolkienien, de/by Sarah Léon 34

Poème/Poem.Direnn et Drianlaezh, de/by Monis Enidra 47

Fiction.Terres de tambour, de/by Lucile Poulain 50

Fiction.Le Moriang, de/by Sébastien Celle 60

Article.Singing into Being: Defamiliarisation as Creation in J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, de/by Amy Stimson 68

Fiction.Summerdance, de/by Mian Selike 78

Fiction.The Birdcatcher’s Song, de/by Hélène Gauthier 81

BD/Comics. Un Requiem pour Caliban, de/by Guillaume Labrude 91

Edito

Musique et Fantasy entretiennent un lien privilégié, à travers l’association de la musique aux pouvoirs créateurs. Les auteurs et les chercheurs de notre 10e numéro explorent ce lien, de la musique créatrice d’univers à la musique qui sauve et qui transforme, en passant par les rapports entre inspiration musicale et création littéraire. Shiri W. Sondheimer examine ainsi la manière dont les auteurs de Fantasy urbaine s’appuient sur la musique pour développer leurs récits, ouvrant une réflexion plus large sur le rôle de la musique dans la créativité des écrivains. A. C. Roustand nous entraîne dans une fiction à la fois drôle et fascinante où la survie d’un village dépend de ses guerriers-chanteurs, tandis que Hétonque confronte son héroïne à un instrument magique qui transforme ceux qui en jouent.

La musicologue Sarah Léon s’intéresse pour sa part à Summoning, groupe de Black Metal et Dungeon Synth qui s’inspire de Tolkien pour ses titres, soulignant au passage l’influence de la Fantasy sur le Metal et ses thèmes de prédilection. La poésie s’invite également dans ce numéro, par l’entremise d’un poème de Monis Enidra relatant la rencontre d’un couple mythique de son univers, par le biais d’un chant. Lucile Poulain nous plonge dans un monde où les tambours sont l’âme des villages, là où Sébastien Celle exprime la singularité du musicien, né différent dans un univers tourné vers les activités de la mer.

La chercheuse Amy Stimson nous ramène vers les rivages de Tolkien et de son camarade C. S. Lewis dans une analyse passionnante de leur relecture de la Genèse à travers la création par la musique des mondes d’Arda et de Narnia.

Enfin, Mian Selike et Hélène Gauthier nous offrent tour à tour un exemple des pouvoirs de la musique, entre danse rituelle et mélodie plus forte que le silence assourdissant de la mort.

À retrouver également dans ce numéro : un nouveau chapitre de la BD de Guillaume Labrude, et les illustrations de Véronique Thill, Guillaume Labrude, Maïwenn-Iman Le Garff, Hélène Gauthier, GaëlleC. et Emmanuelle Ramberg.

Bonne lecture !

Music and Fantasy have a special bond, through the association of music with creative powers. The authors and researchers in our 10th issue explore this connection, from world-building music to saving and transforming music, and the relationship between musical inspiration and creative writing. Shiri W. Sondheimer examines how Urban Fantasy writers rely on music to develop their stories, opening up a broader reflection on the role of music in writers’ creativity. A. C. Roustand takes us into a funny and fascinating fiction where the survival of a village depends on its warrior-singers, while Hétonque confronts his female protagonist with a magical instrument that transforms those who play it.

Musicologist Sarah Léon deals with Summoning, a Black Metal and Dungeon Synth band that draws inspiration from Tolkien for its songs, underlining the influence of Fantasy on Metal and its favourite themes. Poetry is also present in this issue, through a poem by Monis Enidra relating the meeting of a mythical couple from his universe, through a song. Lucile Poulain plunges us into a world where drums are the soul of the villages, while Sébastien Celle expresses the singularity of the musician, born different in a universe turned towards the activities of the sea.

Researcher Amy Stimson takes us back to Tolkien’s shores and that of his comrade C. S. Lewis in a fascinating analysis of their re-reading of Genesis as they create the worlds of Arda and Narnia through music.

Finally, Mian Selike and Hélène Gauthier offer us in turn an example of the powers of music, between ritual dance and melody stronger than the deafening silence of death.

Also in this issue: a new chapter of Guillaume Labrude’s comics, and illustrations by Véronique Thill, Guillaume Labrude, Maïwenn-Iman Le Garff, Hélène Gauthier, GaëlleC. and Emmanuelle Ramberg.

Enjoy your reading!

Monis Enidra

ARTICLE

Bring the Beat: Music as Inspiration for Urban Fantasy

Shiri Weinbaum Sondheimer

Shiri is a former registered nurse who holds a Master in Theological Studies from Harvard Divinity School because it seemed like a good idea at the time. She now writes about comics, manga, associated moving versions of said properties, and fandom for several websites as well as penning free-lance social media marketing copy and pop-culture philosophy/theology snarkiness. She also spends a good deal of time recording the strange adventures of her imaginary friends. Shiri lives in Pittsburgh, PA with a spouse, two smaller humans, two elderly felines, and four plants named after anime characters.

Shiri est une ancienne infirmière diplômée qui a obtenu un Master en Études Théologiques à la Harvard Divinity School parce que cela semblait être une bonne idée à l’époque. Aujourd’hui, elle écrit sur les bandes dessinées, les mangas, les versions mobiles associées auxdites œuvres, ainsi que sur le fandom pour plusieurs sites Web. Elle rédige également en freelance des textes marketing pour les médias sociaux et des articles de philosophie/théologie sur la culture populaire. Elle passe également beaucoup de temps à enregistrer les aventures étranges de ses amis imaginaires. Shiri vit à Pittsburgh, en Pennsylvanie, avec son conjoint, deux petits humains, deux vieux félins et quatre plantes portant le nom de personnages d’anime.

Music has a long-established connectionto emotion. As early as 124 BCE, the Greek physician Asklepiades is rumored to have prescribed music to “brighten up” depressed patients1. King Philip V of Spain (1683-1746), thought to have suffered from major depressive disorder, was unable to attend to his royal duties, leaving his room for only a few hours a night if at all, and would see no one with the exception of the queen until his doctor ordered arias. Carlo Broschi Farinelli performed four a night for ten years and for the duration, Philip was able to attend to some of his duties during daylight hours and even to meet with his council at intervals2.

In the modern era, music is touted not only as a mood booster but also as a tool to enhance creativity, especially for writers, which leads one to wonder if there is a link between the neurobiologies of mood and creativity. If music affects mood and mood affects creativity, does music necessarily influence creativity and, if it does, is there a specific type of music that enhances creativity? A type of music that would be “best” for writers in general, and writers of particular genres, such as urban fantasy, which strives to evoke a nexus of many emotions, among them wonder, curiosity, fear, and humor3, to listen to in order to optimize their output; or is it up to individual taste and intention, even when authors are producing work that falls within a specific genre?

Before we begin our analysis, let us define a few terms for the sake of consistency. Literary terms are some of the most difficult to parse as each source is likely to have a slightly different definition, especially where the parameters of a given genre or sub-genre are concerned. For the purposes of this paper, because these elements are the ones included in nearly all definitions of the genre, urban fantasy is defined as: stories that explore the interplay of a modern setting and traditional elements of fantasy and folklore4; with the modern setting serving as a portal for the mixing of the magical and mundane5. Per John Clute, citing a theory pioneered by Elana Gomel, this setting is either a real city modified to fit the needs of a fantasy story or an imagined metropolis that has been created not only as a setting but as an environment; in either case the city is not simply a passive place but an active character in the narrative6. He amended the definition in 2012 to include that urban fantasy used the city as milieu where “humans (often with special talents) and supernatural beings […] interact via adventure, melodrama, intrigue and sex.7” It is through these interactions the protagonist has access to the magical world which may or may not be recognized or acknowledged by the rest of society.8

Where neurobiology is concerned, cortisol—a hormone secreted by the adrenal gland—is a measurable marker of stress and helps to raise the body’s awareness in preparation to engage either fight or flight9. Levels of cortisol are inversely related to levels of the neurotransmitters serotonin and dopamine, responsible for feelings of happiness and pleasure respectively; thus the more psychosocial stressors one is experiencing, the less happy one is and the less pleasure they will experience10. Cortisol, serotonin and dopamine can all be measured in saliva and are thus easily tested while study subjects are engaged in various activities, both stressful and creative, where stressful activities are scenarios such as mock job interviews or exams and creative activities are those in which the subject is asked to engage in“generating ideas, insights, and solutions that are both novel and useful11.”

The theory that music has a positive effect on urban fantasy writers and their ability to produce stories, let alone stories within their genre, is of little use without scientific evidence that music has the potential to affect the creative process. Once this connection has been established, we will review functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) data comparing levels of neurological activity observed in relation to the type of music the test subject is listening to. Finally, we will compare three urban fantasy authors’ work, confirm their work meets the criteria for urban fantasy as defined above, and compare and contrast their playlists and explanations of the ways in which they assemble the tracks they listen to while engaged in the act of writing.

The Relationship Between Music and Creativity

As stated above, serotonin and dopamine are present in the brain, and thus available to their respective receptors, in inverse proportion to cortisol. While the myth of the tortured artist has long persisted to the extent that artists in every field have refused medication that would improve biologically based neurotransmitter imbalances, often to the detriment of their quality of life and with sometimes tragic consequences, science suggests that people who are happier are actually more creative12. Baba Shiv, a professor at Stanford Graduate School of Business, reports that serotonin and dopamine are also present in higher levels, in individuals engaged in creative behaviors while, conversely, animal studies suggest baboons under stress, in whom cortisol levels are higher, are closed off to new ideas as is indicated by their refusal to seek new territory.13 Those who are calmer, with higher levels of serotonin and dopamine, range further from familiar ground.

Are there ways, then, to encourage the brain and related systems to release more serotonin and dopamine, or to signal the adrenal gland to reduce release of cortisol? Can we prime our neurological structures for creative work and maintain that optimal environment for the duration? Neurologists and neuroscientists believe they may have found at least one way to do so: introduce music into the equation.

In his book Musicophilia, renowned neurologist Oliver Sacks describes a patient who, after a brain aneurysm, recovered his intellectual abilities but remained “emotionally impaired,” described as “inert, flat, and indifferent” except when he sang; when this patient was engrossed in music, he would become “jovial, wistful,” and display other emotions appropriate to the music, the courtesy he showed others no longer rote and automatic but genuine and warm, his personality very much as it was prior to the bleed damaging his brain14. The moment the music ended, the patient reverted to a flat affect and programmed behaviors.

If there were a single music center of the brain, this phenomenon would be easily explained by the activation of that center. As far as neurologists and neuroscientists have been able to determine, however, unlike speech or vision, there is no single area of the brain responsible for receiving and interpreting music15. How, then, does music produce such a profound musical change in Sacks’s patient or in those suffering from anxiety, fear, or depression, and thus boost creativity? Does it actually do so, or were those changes a coincidence? A study of sixty healthy female volunteers suggests that music does produce neurobiological changes. The researchers collected salivary cortisol samples from the subjects then exposed them to the stressor of a “standardized psychosocial stress test”; those who listened to music during the test had lower cortisol levels during the stress period and recovered to baseline cortisol levels more quickly after the stressor was terminated than those who did not16. Functional MRI and positron emission tomography (PET) scans confirm this data by showing activity in the amygdala and nucleus acumbens during music listening17; these structures are involved in the release of serotonin and dopamine which are, as previously discussed, neurotransmitters present in higher amounts during creative activities and exercises, and suppress the release of cortisol.

Music is paired with writing more than with other creative arts as a source of inspiration and part of the explanation for their connection may come from the specialized field of post-stroke aphasia therapy. Aphasia, or the inability to either use (expressive aphasia) or understand (receptive aphasia) words previously familiar to the affected individual is a common, persistent deficit following strokes caused both by bleeding and by clots. Early intervention can often mediate the severity of aphasia, however, depending on which part of the brain is affected by the stroke and the severity of the damage, some patients show little to no improvement with speech therapy. Rehabilitation therapists have found that these patients do show improvement when their speech therapy is integrated with music therapy18.

As far back as the 19th century, neurologist Hughlings Jackson separated speech into two types: propositional and automatic. Propositional speech is volitional and spontaneous while automatic speech is a recitation of information that is memorized and stored19. In many aphasia patients, propositional speech is impaired but automatic speech is not; they remain able to curse, recite poems they memorized prior to the stroke, and to sing songs they memorized prior to their stroke. This automatic speech can be used to assist in the recovery of propositional speech by encouraging the brain to “kick-start” both the primary and secondary speech centers, one of which is on the left side of the brain and the other on the right20. These speech centers are also activated when people utilize written forms of communication, and thus it stands to reason that a healthybrain exposed to music would, at least potentially, be stimulated to produce a more than usual volume of words when exposed to music.

Which segues neatly into a fascinating hypothesis: urban fantasy writers will write more, and more original work, in a shorter amount of time if their process is accompanied by music.

Author Preference and Genre Coherence

Is there a particular type of music that is most efficacious for urban fantasy writers to listen to while they write? It wasn’t long ago that neurologists, child development specialists, and pediatricians insisted parents who wanted their children to achieve their full potential live in a cocoon of Bach, suggesting there was a composer—or at least type—of music perfect for every task. More recent fMRI data, however, suggest the type is less important than the way a given song makes the listener feel. Music that triggers a neurological response in the listener that suggests they are engaged with it (as self-indicated during the scan) is concurrent with scans that show more “hot spots,” or areas of activity, on the MRI even when they are unable to consciously distinguish what they are listening to (short clips or part of a piece that sounds, at least on the conscious level, like a song by another band or a piece written by a different composer)21. Therefore, at least theoretically, it should not matter what an urban fantasy writer is listening to when they write with the intention of boosting creativity and productivity, only that it is something their brain identifies as “interesting.”

The question remains, however: do these connections play out in vivo? If one consults urban fantasy authors, does one see evidence of these connections or do the theories lack evidentiary ground in practice? To test my hypothesis that urban fantasy authors find music useful in their process regardless of type, provided the individual author finds said music engaging, I spoke with two writers, whose work fits the definition of urban fantasy as stated above and who consider music to be an essential part of their process, about what they listen to while they are in creative mode. I also included my own experiences as an urban fantasy writer who listens to music while writing for an additional perspective.

Author Stephen Blackmooredescribes a relationship with music that, while not always pleasant does utilize memory and emotional recall in partnership with music as an impetus for creativity. Blackmoore’s protagonist, Eric Carter, lives in a contemporary Los Angeles that is more living entity than place, a portal through which those blessed (or cursed depending on their view) can access different types of magic, through which supernatural creatures can travel, and as the medium upon, and with which, magic users display their dark, hungry prowess. Mythological figures from both modern Mexican culture and the Aztec pantheon play particularly important roles and various locations in Los Angeles serve as proxies for the Aztec underworld, and other ghostly realms Carter uses in his roles as necromancer, supernatural investigator, and Santa Muerte’s reluctant husband. Carter himself walks a very thin boundary between good and evil, often unbalanced, and the reader isn’t always certain which side he’ll land on if that balance is disrupted; if one were to place a bet on the outcome, the safest place would be “his own.”

Blackmoore explained in an email22 that he has two playlists he uses while embroiled in Eric Carter’s adventures: one comprised of songs he associates with specific characters and key story beats “to act as touchstones and reminders23” and a second he listens to while actively drafting and polishing words. The former, he explains:

“[…] I’ll build before and change while I’m writing. Usually it’ll get reduced to just a handful [that] I play waaaaay too often. Right now, for Hate Machine, which I’m just getting started on, I’ve got 45 songs. Dead Things started the same way, but by the time I was done, it was down to five. One pitfall I run into is finding a song I can’t stand but I end up listening to it for three months. For Hungry Ghosts I grabbed a narcocorrido, a corrido that features drug dealers and such. They’re these heroic ballad sort of songs with a polka beat that tell you how awesome some drug dealer was or whatever is like they’re Robin Hood or something and that was the mood I was going for in some scenes. I fucking hate corridos. But it fit…24”

The likely explanation for this phenomenon? As Blackmoore frames his story and the details coalesce, the most powerful elements, those that make the strongest and most persistent emotional impressions on him as the author, become memories and those memories become attached to specific songs. When those songs play they, in turn, activate Blackmoore’s amygdala sparking activity in the speech center (which, as previously discussed also controls written communication). At the same time, as Sacks proved with FMRI, by activating those connections, Blackmoore’s is actively engaging with the music (whether or not he likes it doesn’t factor in to this part of the equation), creating electrical and chemical responses that indicate to the brain something of “interest” is occurring and it should pay attention by engaging. This additional engagement completes a feedback loop wherein specific music (in Blackmoore’s case a narcocorrido) stimulates memory/emotion (danger/anger/fear) which triggers interest (how would this play out in Carter’s magical Los Angeles?) which initiates activity (writing out various scenarios), and ultimately results in finished story (a novel or series).

Blackmoore’s “[…] writing playlist is a lot of EDM (electronic dance music: percussive music generated via sampling and other digital instruments, usually without lyrics). A lot of the time I’ll listen to one of the stations on SomaFM (a service similar to Spotify but ‘human curated’)25,” he clarified, a significant departure from the genre that populates his other playlist in a style that it is both more random and wider-ranging. That his preferences should be so varied is additional evidence for Sacks’ theory that the type of music a writer listens to is less important than that they find it engaging in some way; were there a particular genre of music that was particularly useful for stimulating creativity, one would anticipate that not only would all writers have that singular tool in their toolbox but that individual authors would be dedicated to t. I believe Blackmoore, as the author of six successful novels with a seventh forthcoming, would argue his Swiss Army Knife of tunes is serving serving him rather well indeed.

Blackmoore’s genre colleague, David R. Slayton, published his first book, White Trash Warlock26,in October 2020. Though the beginning of the novel sees Adam in rural Oklahoma, he quickly makes his way to Denver, Colorado and the bulk of the story takes place in the Denver metropolitan area (population: ~2.8 million). Adam is one of few humans able to sense, and battle, an eldritch entity preying gleefully on the citizenry including his sister-in-law; it is his brother, in fact, who called Adam for help despite once having had Adam institutionalized rather than admitting his younger brother has the very powers he’s now asking Adam to use on his behalf. Adam is also set apart from his biological relatives by his sexuality: they disapprove of the fact he is gay and see it as another sign of his being “abnormal” or “other,” though they are willing to overlook the matter when his presence is to their advantage.

Slayton explained in an email how he uses music as part of his creative process:

“[I][...] tune my brain and emotions to a scene or chapter, to strike the right mood in myself so I can get it on the page. I create playlists for each book I write and often several playlists per book to help with certain feelings or moods, inducing them in myself so I can convey them in a believable way for my characters. The music has to synch. It’s no good to play upbeat pop when I’m writing a somber scene. At the same time if I’m writing an action scene I want something more kinetic… I feel fiction fails when we can’t emotionally connect to it. Music helps me write closer to the heart, closer to something I’m feeling that I can give to my characters, helping them come alive27.”

Slayton also discussed using music to establish the mood of specific activities and time periods in his work:

“[Adam’s] world contains a lot of classic rock. He’s not the biggest fan, but it’s part of his landscape, so I listened to the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac when I wrote the bar scenes to help ground him in his world. He’s also more likely to listen to stuff he likes when he’s driving so I made playlists for him that reflect his tastes with bands like Years & Years or Kaleo. Adam’s brother Bobby has the other point of view in the book, so I made completely different playlists for him. He listens to stuff like the Beatles or Elton John, music well before Adam’s time, since Bobby is a decade older, and the difference in tastes help reflect the conflict between them28.”

In both of these cases, Slayton, like Blackmoore, uses music as a sort of switch to signal his brain that the time has come to recall certain sets of circumstances or clusters of memories previously associated with a particular song or playlist. Like Blackmore, Slayton’s choices are less about what he personally enjoys and more about which melodies and lyrics set the proper ambiance for a story beat or important interaction. Slatyon’s selection process, however, is different from Blackmoore’s; rather than choosing solely by genre, he synchs the emotions associated with an event or a specific character’s feelings at a given moment, to the mood conveyed by a specific song because he feels he works best when his emotions match those he’s attempting to convey to readers. Music, Slayton says, allows him, via memory or previous association, to maneuver into the proper mindset to create real humanity in even the most supernatural of experiences.

It is interesting to note these “different path, same endpoint” strategies may explain why Slayton’s playlists get longer as he progresses through a story while Blackmoore’s get shorter; Slayton’s characters gain momentum as he writes, develop nuances and connections that require deeper emotional connections. They make more memories which, in turn, allows Slayton to form additional connections that affect the amygdala emotion —> amygdala —> memory —> interest —> activity feedback loop.

This paper’s author has two published urban fantasy short stories29 (one about the zombie apocalypse arriving in London via UPS and another about a trip to the underworld) and is currently at work on an as yet unpublished, untitled series that features various locations around the world including: Boston, Reykjavik, Odessa, Pittsburgh, Paris, Hong Kong, and others as portals for magic and as contact points for other realms. The series, comprised primarily of novella and novelette length works, has several point of view characters, each of whom lends their voice to various stories and finds themselves set apart from society in ways similar to those described above. Unlike Blackmoore, and Slayton’s protagonists, however, they are an ensemble cast and, therefore, at least, have one another to rely on. This is not to say they are never alone, or lonely, but they do have partners in life and people to rely on when there is a mystery that needs solving or a demon running amok.