The Many Faces of Metal

When Black Sabbath's eponymous debut album first made its way into the light of day and record store shelves in 1970, something potent and radically different from most concurrent music being made was brought into the world. As different and groundbreaking as it was at the time, the genre of heavy metal that was birthed in that year has only continued to evolve, distinguish, divide and redefine itself in a plethora of manners and manifestations since then.

At the same time that the sound, appearance and core values of metal set themselves up in different camps, the genre itself generally followed the only trend common to all other music and art in general in the past few decades: that of globalization. The perhaps unexpected, but undeniably intriguing result has been that the music, which traditionally has been western in style, sound, and lyrical content, has been opened to reinterpretation from cultures from around the world.

In addition to this globalization of metal, the zeitgeist of the western world (that is, North America and Europe for the most part) where most metal is still being made, has undergone rapid change since 1970, and metal has also evolved to reflect this in almost every way. The social, religious, and political underpinnings of modern metal differs greatly from those who immediately followed in the footsteps of Black Sabbath.

This blog will largely focus on the unique and often esoteric contributions that musicians and non-musicians alike from radically different backgrounds and perspectives have made towards the teeming mass of lyrical self-contradictions and unadulterated ear-splitting sonic power that is, and always will be, metal. Topics will include the timeline of the female experience in metal (systematically dispersing the long-held impression that metal is analogous to a treehouse built by boys wherein females are not allowed to enter), the modern Chinese black metal phenomenon, folk metal from all over Europe, the rise of South American metal, the Japanese introduction of visual kei, metal's hard line division between elitists and mainstream advocates, the use of unconventional instruments such as the saxophone or the cello in metal, the curious and noticeable lack of black people participating in a musical movement that owes its existence to the blues, and much more.

So if learning about metal has been something that was on your agenda, stay tuned.

Tolkien and Tolstoy: In Defence of Escapist Fiction as Literature

There is a long-standing tradition in literary circles to regard the genres of fantasy, science fiction, romance, etc. as generally not belonging to the body of works considered to be literature. In other words, the chances of writing by the likes of Tolkien and Lewis, Heinlein and Asimov and those of their ilk being discussed as works containing anything to contribute to literature are slim. And when there is recognition of literary merit, it tends to come from within the community of readers, patrons and writing contributors that follow the aforementioned genres. Take for instance the Hugo Award and the Nebula Award; the former is a gauge of how popular a given piece of science fiction or fantasy writing is among readers, while the latter is a comparatively more objective (and perhaps more "literary"?) award bestowed by a panel of more selective individuals who possess a form of tenure in the escapist fiction circles. The distinction between works of fantasy or sci-fi that happen to contain literary merit and actual examples of literature is decidedly pronounced in its practically corporeal presence, but simultaneously - and nefariously - hard to define in terms of its substance. That is, no satisfactory system of categorization fulfilling the purpose of separating the two has been produced and agreed on to date; a curiosity that should not be overlooked when considering whether there is indeed a distinction at all.

Image is pretty self-explanatory.

To that end, a statement of the definition of literature as understood by the author of this post would greatly benefit all discussion that follows. Using the Merriam-Webster definition for the sake of succinctness and an attempt at objectivity, "literature" will henceforth be defined as "writing in prose or verse; especially : writings having excellence of form or expression and expressing ideas of permanent or universal interest."

Not a novel, even less an epic poem, and least like a historical chronicle...but it is what it is.

That is a multi-level definition with several components that most be examined in turn and then considered as a whole before a conclusion is arrived at regarding the literary standing of works of escapist fiction. The scope of this discourse will be limited to examples of prose, with a focus on the body of works of J.R.R. Tolkien as representing those fantasy and sci-fi books that find themselves floating in literary limbo between the Cocytus of lowly escapism and the enlightened plane occupied by works in the vein of Leo Tolstoy's bibliography (which are few and far in between). In consideration of the definition of literature provided above, a discussion is to follow addressing the criteria of excellence of form and of expression as well as the as the requirement of "expressing ideas of permanent or universal interest".

While "excellence of form" is rather vague and can generally be interpreted as ambiguously and in as many diverse manners as the character of Hamlet, it is hardly stretching the bounds of credulity to postulate that "form" refers to how something is written, and therefore excellence of form is a measure of how well it is written. For example, War and Peace largely satisfies and maintains the condition of excellence of form throughout its significant girth. This is not quite something that is easily demonstrable especially in light of the sheer size of Tolstoy's book, but if really pressed for an example, it perhaps helps to recognize the fact that passages written like Prince Andrei Bolkonsky's thought process as he lay on the fields of Austerlitz can be found throughout the arguably definitive Russian novel. Tolstoy's manner of writing is clear, displays depth, is sufficiently descriptive and yet devoid of unnecessary embellishments and moral judgment alike, and thus highlights the indifferent omniscience of the narrator. It is this indifferent omniscience, so scrupulously crafted through the "form" of Tolstoy's writing, that earns it its pedestal in the hallowed higher echelons of literary achievement. The same metric, however, cannot be applied to Tolkien, because the goals of these two authors were worlds apart in more senses than one. Whereas Tolstoy's primary goal was to bring characters to life in a familiar world, Tolkien's imperative was to bring to life an unfamiliar world inhabited by characters holding values not so different from ours. Tolstoy's form of writing was more objective and omniscient yet vibrantly emotional, Tolkien's was more physically descriptive and adopted an ideological tone at times by necessity, seen for example in his descriptions of Lothlórien. Both authors expressed what needed to be expressed without using either vocabulary considered too vulgar or the bombastic, bloated style of writing more appropriate to a condescending critic's review of a summer action blockbuster movie. The sole exception is the fact that the linguist in Tolkien was compelled to give noticeable attention to the more obscure or technical names and descriptions of physical phenomena in Middle-Earth. Given the context of each author's goals (which can be seen as generalizations of the goals of literary authors and escapist fiction novelists, respectively), excellence of form is achieved by both, albeit in different manners. One may find one style or the other (or indeed both) "boring", but subjective opinions on the styles of Tolkien or Tolstoy have no bearing on the excellence of form achieved by both on their own terms.

The Stairway to Heaven is in Middle-Earth

The second component that separates the literary from the non-literary is the idea of "excellence of expression". Again, this part of the definition is not elucidated or elaborated on by Merriam-Webster, so it falls to logic to associate the stated "expression" with something that presents a form of artistic value to humanity. Between excellence of form and excellence of expression, the consensus seems to be that the latter is the far more important criterion for determining the literary importance of a written work. This is the component that asks the question: "What does this text reveal, or express, about the human condition?" Every work of prose that has aspirations to the historically and socially significant status of "literature" is examined thoroughly to determine, in a word, the theme of the work. The untouchable, universally lauded literary stature of War and Peace and Anna Karenina among other Tolstoy works owes its existence largely to their uncanny ability to make heads or tails of the characters' existences themselves. That is to say, literature has excellence of expression if it makes clear an individual's role in society, a group, in family, relative to another individual or individuals, or to oneself - all this while managing to be timeless and not specifically tied to the setting of the work. By definition, no one lives in the 19th century now (except perhaps extremely dedicated aficionados of said time period), and while all of Tolstoy's novels take place in Russia, a non-Russian reader in the 21st century is just as able to empathize with Anna's struggles and Konstantin's ordeals as, say, an impoverished and broke university student living in St. Petersburg who may or may not have published an article seeking to justify murder in the name of advancing humanity. Dostoevsky reference aside, the status of Tolstoy's works as literature cannot be disputed. However, it is not his works that are on trial, but Tolkien's. And here, at last, the heart of the matter can be examined. It is the simplicity and unrepresentative nature of the themes in Tolkien's works that are often questioned in regards to their validity as literature. The heavy dose of duality prevalent throughout The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Silmarillion among others is often the criticism most directed at Middle-Earth (or, more accurately, Arda). The simplistic view that good necessarily triumphs over evil in the end or that nature is inherently better than industry, along with a slew of similarly dualistic ideas present in not just Tolkien's work but all of escapist fiction, is just that; a simplistic view. The blanket statement "faith in friends will win the day" can hardly be reconciled with the astoundingly lifelike complexity of themes in War and Peace that defy summary through one or two phrases. The perceived simplicity of ideas in escapist fiction has also given rise to the rather unfair idea, thankfully not shared by many, that fantasy and science fiction are somehow childish. This has presented yet another barrier between literature and escapist fiction. Yet it is the simplicity of dualistic and otherwise uncomplicated themes that present readers with the clarity required to understand the human condition. In 1812 AD or 3019 of the Third Age, in the vast expanse of the Russian countryside or the sprawling geography of Middle-Earth, people are driven by a desire to reduce the world around them to something understandable at a most basic level - indeed, understandable by a child. It is in the simplicity of good vs. evil, nature vs. industrialization, freedom vs. thralldom that humanity finds its core values and the most pertinent reasons for holding them. Once we strip away the layers of complexity, Anna Karenina is an endorsement for stability over passion in the quest for love, while War and Peace is a call to celebrate life in all its grandeur or lack thereof, no matter the circumstance - both are themes that children could wrap their unburdened minds around.

The British version of 2012 put me off watching adaptations of Anna Karenina for a long time.
Perhaps it's time to delve deeper back in time?

The third and final criterion for literature is the most straightforward; a piece of literature must express "ideas of permanent or universal interest". Well, the ideas of permanent and universal interest one can think of on the spot - love, goodness, purpose, origin, meaning, success, freedom, etc. - are no less the domain of escapist fiction than of the works commonly thought of as literature. Concepts of universal interest, i.e. things that every civilized human being should be able to relate to, are manifested in literature through the universal applicability of the thoughts, actions, choices, tribulations and experiences of the characters. A reader can feel Count Pierre Bezukhov's discomfort in social circles around people he considers strangers, can empathize with his rage when he challenges Dolokhov to a duel, can taste the odd mixture of fascination and horror in the air mixed with all the other smells of a battle as he watches the fight for Borodino unfold. Similarly, the irresistible call to adventure one feels after a long enough period of complacency is expressed in The Hobbit, the desperation of dealing with overwhelming odds is conveyed through The Lord of the Rings and the collective human desire for a explanation of creation and purpose is satisfied by The Silmarillion. As for the permanence of ideas in literature, topics like love and lust, war and peace, good and evil, liberty and slavery simply do not expire.

Fingolfin from The Silmarillion. High King of the Noldor elves and undisputed badass. No, not the big guy with the mace. The other guy.

In light of everything that has been discussed, it is high time that the socially accepted notion of literature be expanded or modified.