(Warning: Deep Thinkers Only: No Wis Under 18 Allowed)
1. Introduction
Since ancient times mankind has had a certain predisposition to create myths and legends. Bards used to travel from town to town, telling and singing their myths, their fantastic stories and heroic epics. Storymongers like the brothers Grimm created classic fairy-tales like Jack and the Beanstalk, Snow White, Cinderella, Puss in Boots, Beauty and the Beast. Somehow something of these stories taught people of who they were in the world in which they lived.
The making of heroic fantasy did not end with the old world. Relatively modern man has created modern myths such as those of the tooth fairy, Santa Clause, Harry Potter, the bogeyman, and a plethora of other ideas and characters. Outside of the western world, mythology abounds even more. And then there is role-playing Dungeons and Dragons fantasy.
Somehow some philosophizing about this seems to me to be necessary. Just to step back for a moment and to ask “Why?” I am not trained in literature, philosophy or psychology, nevertheless as someone who appreciates the role of fantasy, I am constrained to consider a little bit of the how and why of fantasy role-playing. What does it mean?
Carl Gustav Jung was, to my mind, a genius a couple of times over, and had a really original way of looking at mythology – the world over. In fact he seemed to have an almost limitless supply of knowledge of the mythologies of the world. He notes that fantasy/mythology has common elements all over the world.
Stories, whether they be from the ancient Greeks, the Irish, Africa, Germany (through the Brothers Grimm), China, England, Egypt – they all share general elements. Sun gods abound. Every country knows about dragons, even though they are completely mythological. Every society has some or other mythology of mages. Everyone knows about giants, dwarves, ghosts and vampires. Sometimes the names differ a bit, but the creatures remain the same.
Jung presupposed that all our mythologies – are reflections of our ‘collective unconscious’, and as such they reflect motivations within ourselves. The common elements he called ‘archetypes’ or ‘universal pictures’ as it were. If I may give an example, if I say “Elf” or “Dwarf” – a picture jumps to mind. A generalised, universal picture, which may or may not be accurate. Jung had a whole range of archetypes, such as the Father (illustrating a kind of universal fatherhood), Mother, Trickster and so on.
Archetypes are intuitive. No one needs to tell anyone about mages, dragons or whatnot. We simply understand them. No girl ever needs to be told of the Noble Knight, (nay Prince!) coming to save the princess (she of course!) from the evil dragon. Somehow it is a story engraved into the heart of every girl, even if they never heard it. Similarly no boy or even man needs to be told about that fierce knight/ninja commando/spy/cowboy or whatnot. The male hero archetype is written as deeply into our minds as the princess tends to be in women.
We are confronted with these archetypes continually, through television, books and whatnot. Through our ‘universal pictures’ we make generalisations, and with our mythology they teach us about who we are and what we need to be. Mythology also provides parameters, a set of black and white’s, a distinction of good and evil in a world stuck in the moral grey. Only in fantasy are the heroes thoroughly good and the villains thoroughly evil.
We are faced with our mythologies every day, particularly in films such as Braveheart, Gladiator, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and others. (We are also more subtly faced with them in classic films such as Great Expectations, Dead Poets Society and Gone With The Wind.) Nowhere are we however brought down on such a face-to-face level with our archetypes as in fantasy role-playing.
Through DnD we role-play, we engage archetypal characters on a very primal level, perhaps more so than any other psychological discipline. This I find intriguing. DnD has gone further and purposefully developed an intriguing and complicated setting of mythology, deepening our psycho-mythological-moral framework to new levels.
So in this essay I considered to address two themes: firstly the archetypes of fantasy role-playing, and secondly the mythos of fantasy stories. I discuss these themes not as a psychologist or a literary critic, of which I am not, but as a player metagame thinking to the max.
2. Analysis of Archetypes
Jung supposed various archetypes. Role-Playing fantasy redefines our heroic archetypes into a new series of classifications. We are faced with races and classes. Classes are in particular ‘roles’, from which we get the idea of ‘role playing’. As Shakespeare said, “All the world’s a stage and we are merely players.” Archetypes say something about the roles we play, and how we see ourselves.
People have their favourite characters. Some love Paladins; others love Rangers, Sorcerers, Monks and Druids. The characters we play say something about the way in which we see ourselves. Our favourite characters represent in a very deep way our alter ego, - in a sense how we see ourselves ideally. (This also says something why people like to powergame their favourite character. They seek to form a kind of ideal sense of self.)
Archetypes are generalisations. When I say ‘woman’ not everyone gets the same picture. We generally get a composite picture of the women we have known in life. Someone may however see a negative picture, such as a witch with a knife. (Jungian psychology, I think, aims to correct errors in thinking by redefining archetypes. But now I am getting off track.)
Our ‘pictures’ or ‘archetypes’ differ slightly, but in general the gaming classes propose more or less fixed archetypes. When I say ‘Paladin’, everyone knows that I am talking of a do-gooder that absolutely has to help everyone, that he rides a big white horse and wields a big sword in the name of righteousness. Not everyone will agree with my interpretation, because as I said, archetypes are generalisations, and generalisations can be ever-so dangerous things.
What do our archetypes mean?
2.1. The Fighter
The fighter is, well, the fighter. He represents the fighter within us. Some might say he may represent aggression, but I don’t believe so. The archetypal fighter – he is the guy who gets the job done. No niceties. He pulls out his weapons and faces a problem head on. He need not have lofty motivations, he is just practical. (The archetypal fighter seems to me of a kind of neutral good or true neutral orientation.)
Life is hard, and full of challenges. The fighter seems to represent to me the attitude by which we confront our challenges. He represents the twin virtues of the will of decisiveness and determination. I think Odysseus is a great archetypal fighter. Cunning, strong, he goes to war, faces trials and troubles and gets the job done without complaining.
2.2. The Ranger
The ranger is the wild man, and is very much a male archetype. He is raw and untamed. He is unfettered by the demands of society. As a loner he is also very much an individual. When demands are cast upon him, he may or may not comply, for he is ever untamed. The great hero is usually born with the untamed heart of a ranger. Think of figures such as Aragorn (in Lord of the Rings), Wolverine in X-Men or even other historical and Biblical figures such as David.
Robert Bly wrote an intriguing book on the subject called, “Iron John” from the Brothers Grimm story of the same name. In it he describes the ‘wild man’ archetype with the moral and mental progression that especially men go through to acquaint themselves with the raw masculine forces of danger, adventure, risk. He explains that if men are ever to ‘find themselves’ they need to become untamed. (I.e. accept your chaotic/good or chaotic neutral side.) The ranger is a hunter, as wild, fierce, unpredictable and untamed as nature.
2.3. The Barbarian
The Barbarian is a difficult creature, and I think a difficult archetype. ‘Barbarii’ (litt. foreigners) was a reference the Romans used to foreigners, particularly the Gauls, and implied that they were simply uncivilised. Despite the Barbarians ‘wildness’ I do not think that it represents the form of the hunter or ‘wildman’ in the same way that the ranger does. A ranger is wild. It is part of his nature. A barbarian is even more chaotic.
What makes matters further difficult is that ‘barbarian’ is somewhat a derogatory term, indicating simply that someone is uncivilised, rude and uncouth. Our archetypes are however positive references. One can of course see the barbarian as an extension of the ranger, as a kind of sub-type, but I would not like to go that route either.
The barbarian’s rage does perhaps represent a raw love and embracing of life. Unmannered perhaps, but unfettered by social demands. The barbarian’s rage also makes me think of Dylan Thomas’ poem “Do not go gentle into that good night; Old Age should rave and burn at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
As such I suggest that the barbarian represents life: raw, primal, elemental. Life in the most primitive sense of the word, with the most simple and thorough enjoyment of the primary emotions: love, hate, anger, joy. The barbarian represents our embracing of the primal energies of life. Nietzsche would have described it as coming to terms with our Dionysian motivations.
2.4. The Paladin
The paladin? He is the knight in shining armour. He is the guy who goes out slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress. He is the gentleman. He is the hero. He is the guy who gets out to help a girl whose car broke down at the side of the highway. Shamelessly humble, foolishly innocent and bold, and irritatingly obsessed with doing the right thing – always.
The paladin is thé Hero. The fighter does his job, the barbarian enjoys the fight, the ranger does what he wants, but the paladin has to go out saving. That is what he does. It is what defines him, gives him his meaning. Not that is glories in it, noooo – he has to be utterly selfless in his service. He realises that there is more to life than himself. Like others. Shamelessly humble.
The paladin represents our own innate nobility, the drive and willingness to pursue good in a world of moral ambivalence. His nobility is a nobility of action. Strangely enough I think a great modern example of the paladin is good old Forrest Gump. Braveheart may also number here, as may good old Obi Wan Kenobi.
The paladin seems to me to be a neglected archetype. People seem to anticipate that ‘lawful good’ means ‘lawful stupid’. We all know that knights in shining armour exist – as examples or ideals – but few are willing to emulate those ideals. We live in a day and age when black and white ideals of good and evil have fallen by the wayside. One consequence of this is that people don’t know who they are or where they belong.
The paladin’s ‘naïve’ nobility however provides a personal compass – giving a sense of belonging and direction. To seek to know what truly is; to do good. Tennyson in a wonderful poem of Sir Galahad describes the noble knight’s strength,
“My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.”
Purity of heart, indeed a language of heart is a forgotten lore that Western civilisation would do well to reclaim. It is I think one of the calls of roleplaying fantasy.
2.5. The Thief
The thief is one of Jung’s classical archetypes – someone he calls the trickster. In real life terms a thief acquires someone else’s property, but in psychological terms I think the thief represents something else – an attitude and appreciation of possibility.
The thief is not law abiding. Unlike the ranger he is not wild, but this is not to say he is untamed. By no means. The thief is cunning, versatile, adaptable, creative. And I think that is what the thief-archetype is about. The willingness to think outside the box. To challenge assumptions. He interprets the rules in the way he wants to.
The thief is as type also an anti-type, a kind of counterbalance to our more moral inclinations and intentions. The archetypal thief is chaotic neutral. He is utterly unpredictable, even to himself. And yes, somewhat irrational. But that is part of his/her beauty – that he/she will find the creativity in any situation, wherever it may exist.
2.6. The Mage
Pardon a little etymology, but here is the definition of a word that describes magic, as well as the mage in its various forms:
arcanum \ar-KAY-nuhm\, noun;
plural arcana \-nuh\:
1. A secret; a mystery.
2. Specialized or mysterious knowledge, language, or
information that is not accessible to the average person
(generally used in the plural).
Arcanum is from the Latin, from arcanus "closed, secret," from
arca, "chest, box," from arcere, "to shut in."
Mages, whether they be wizards or sorcerers, are concerned with mysteries. And that is, what I think magic represents – mystery. Magicians delve into the intellectual arts – into the bizarre and difficult to understand. Sorcerers do the same, except more intuitively. (Jung would have described them as the same thing with two different personalities: rational introverts and intuitive introverts.)
Today’s mages learn arcane arts in universities teaching strange things such as engineering, mathematics, physics, chemistry and philosophy. Through the strange learning they can achieve bizarre feats, creating ‘spells’ by which a man may travel faster than the fastest horse, fly faster than the fastest bird and craft alchemical potions that heal the sick and make wall dyes that stand the toughest weather. Strange mages called lawyers speak strange spells with words like ‘de facto’, ‘prima facie’, ‘non sequitur’ by which they sway the minds of great judges and liberate or condemn people.
Mages represent a love of the unknown, and a willingness to embrace that which is beyond our understanding.
2.7. The Psion
Psionics is the black sheep of the fantasy family. Psionics is more often found as an element of fantasy in science fiction novels than in classical fantasy, such as Lord of the Rings. Nevertheless psionics is a legitimate evolution of our fantasy mythos, and is therefore appropriate to be discussed with it.
What does psionics represent? Psionic talent is a fantasy that has arisen following the western prominence of the mind. If we can achieve so much with our minds, perhaps one day we will be able to speak telepathically and move things with our minds? And so a mythology is born.
Whereas magic seems to me to represent a virtue of heart: the love of knowledge, psionics seems to represent a virtue of will: the willingness to explore the mind. Today’s psionicists are the philosophers, psychologists and creative writers who learn things through the subtlety of the mind.
Psionics also suggests something else to me, namely talent. A psionic person would discover “I am different. I do not know why or how, but I am. I don’t know how to explain or describe it.” As such psionics seems to be about the inner discovery of our own strengths of will and being. We all need to find our own strengths, and realise that our strengths set us apart from others with a strange sense of disbelonging.
(As such this theme of disbelonging and unresolved strength has a lot in common with mythos of the Marvel universe, particularly the X-Men, who interestingly enough have powers that almost exactly emulate DnD Psionics.)
2.8. The Monk
I have read some works of ‘real life’ monks, passionate about a life of quiet contemplation. Both the East and West has had monasteries for many centuries where ascetics could withdraw from the world to enter into a inner world more real to them than the world ‘outside’. The monks of fantasy DnD are however a far cry away from historical monks. This is in part attributable to martial art movies and the role of the Shaolin Monks have had through those films.
I think the core of the monk in terms of DnD fantasy literature, is not the contemplative lifestyle, nor the asceticism, nor even the martial arts, but the idea of balance. The monk is a fulcrum between inward and outward reality. He balances his thoughts, his feelings, his body and his skills to perfection. His being, including his body, is his ‘magic’. The asceticism, the contemplation, the solitude – all these things are but tools to find balance. When outward reality is withdrawn from, inward reality can be brought into balance.
And as such balance is not such a bad thing to pursue.
2.9. The Cleric
Religion is a difficult subject. Somewhat like politics and football. Everyone has their own views, and to many it is a sore subject. When I say, ‘Religious Leaders’ the picture that springs to mind to a great many people is ‘Hypocrite’. Which is unfortunate, but also part of real life.
There is a great difference between faith and religion. Faith is the substance of a particular pursuit of god/God. Religion is the outward structure to that faith, and like the shells of sea-creatures, often religion takes on a life quite of its own apart from the faith which birthed it.
So where does fantasy DnD religion fit in? The DnD ‘gods’ are in themselves archetypes of various ideal realities. DnD clerics are the conduits to those ideals, whether they be ‘justice’, ’love’, ’vengeance’, ‘courage’ or whatnot. The religious figures in themselves represent our search for greater truths and ideals.
Clerics also represent a type of true devotion, set apart from hypocrisy, that in simple sincerity and tender faith are actually able to obtain divine intervention in daily life. Of course this aspect is often role-played differently, but I believe the ideal DnD cleric has power because he, unlike many other in the clergy, has true faith and is not a hypocrite.
Spirituality is inherent in human thought. Even atheists have their own spirituality. And this seems to me to be exactly what the cleric represents: faith and spirituality. Role playing a cleric seems to suggest to me something of an exploration of our own inherent spirituality, albeit in a less offensive and confrontational way.
2.10. The Druid
I have had some trouble psycho-analysing the druid. The role of a druid, like that of a monk, describes balance. The druid’s balance is however not with himself, but with nature itself. Unlike the ranger, who I perceive as someone free and wild and untamed, the druid is not. The druid is in balance, within, without and with the nature around him/her. It seems to me that the druid’s sense of balance is reactive, where as the monk’s is proactive.
As the incarnation of a particular motivation, the druid seems to elude me. Perhaps a love of nature, or a sense of peace? The druid has not been the subject of much writing in literature, and where it has been, it is mixed with other classes and flavours of differing roles. The only ‘pure’ druid I know of is Getafix in the Asterix and Obelix stories.
2.11. The Bard
The bard is the gatekeeper, the master of the lore, the teller of secrets, the one who chronicles the journey. When reading a fantasy novel, if there is someone telling the story, it will likely be a bard. The bard is also the consummate jack-of-all trades. He is everywhere, he is nowhere. He knows just enough to fit in everywhere.
As such I suspect that the bard is the incarnation of self-awareness. We all need to practise self-awareness, note the passing of time, and reminisce on the extraordinary moments that have given beauty to all the ordinary moments of life. This is of course more an exercise of heart than of mind. Understanding the past and appreciating it both.
I find it intriguing to consider that our mythological bridge to self-awareness is not the dispassionate chronicles of the historian but the poetry, songs and legends of the bards. This says to me that, in our heart of hearts, we know that true self-knowledge is something of heart rather than mind.
These are my interpretations of the fantasy roleplaying archetypes in brief. Whenever we roleplay our characters, we incarnate our primal ideas of certain motivations that we have in life, and these incarnations are how we see different aspects of ourselves.
3. Role Playing Mythos
Stories have a life of their own. Words tend to write themselves more than we write them. And after a while our stories tend to adopt patterns. It is easy and even natural to fall back into certain formulas. Film producers have about 12 patterns or formulas that they like to fall back on. Action movies are usually based on, ‘hero faces villains against overwhelming odds to save the world/neighbourhood’. The ‘Romeo and Juliet’ formula is still the one that rakes in the most money – usually.
Fantasy adopts certain standard formulas, and as does our role-playing stories. These formulas are also archetypal. They represent universal struggles that we all face. Think about the following storylines:
- Hero faces challenges to find his own true strength (i.e. DragonballZ, Karate Kid, Aeneas, Hercules)
- Hero faces challenges to lead others to liberty (Gladiator, Braveheart)
- Hero faces a great evil to save those he loves (Odysseus, Harry Potter)
- Hero explores ancient ruins to find hidden artefact of unknown power (Indiana Jones, Laura Croft, Star Trek)
- Hero saves heroine from evil dragon/wizard/vampire lord/in-laws (Shrek)
These are perhaps the most classical base formulae by which campaigns are run. They also define the basis of all our inward journeys: the journey to find our own strength, the journey of leadership, the journey of love and the journey of inner exploration.
3.1. The Races
The fantasy races are in themselves archetypal representations, representing different aspects of ourselves. I think the ‘meaning’ of our fantasy races is a debatable subject, particularly as one races may have different distinctive characteristics, but a generalised interpretation may be possible. So here goes:
3.1.1. Humans
Humans are, well, humans. What we are. Not much to be said about them.
3.1.2. Elves
Elves are tall, slim, graceful, elegant, refined. They are particularly long lived. They are very aesthetically minded, and immersed in the arcane and nature. As such I think elves represent our ideal selves.
The other possibility, being perhaps overly refined, elegant and civil, elves might represent, in Nietszchian terms the Apollonian motivations within us for civility. Thus one might say elves represent our moral, dignified and civil selves. Given elves’ affinity for nature, I however think this is at least in part a counter-intuitive conclusion.
3.1.3. Half-Elves
Half-elves are ‘in-between’ humans and elves, and suggests to me therefore to be representations of ourselves in the various ‘in-between’ stages of life. It might not be too far off the mark to say that half-elves represent our own existential angst and crises to belonging and self-realisation.
3.1.4. Dwarves
Not meaning to be in any way racist, particularly applying racial prejudices or not to fantasy, but well, dwarves are stunted. They represent to me the opposite of elves. Whereas elves represent the fullest growth and maturity a being could achieve, the very term ‘dwarf’ suggest something that failed to achieve it true maturity.
Dwarves’ affinity for gold and material wealth – these suggest that dwarves represent something venal within ourselves. Duergar in particular seem to suggest the rut of meaningless toil for wealth in which we all too often find ourselves.
Dwarves are not portrayed as a negative race (although Duergar are.) As such it is a positive thing to play a dwarf. Why? Playing a dwarf, one might speculate, allows one to address one’s own immature and underdeveloped aspects. As such I think role-playing a dwarf signifies something of confronting our own inherent limitations, flaws and vulnerabilities.
3.1.5. Halflings
As a generalisation, I associate hobbits, halflings and kender. The very term kender is closely associated with the Dutch and associated languages ‘kinder’ which simply suggest ‘child’. Halflings are just as tall as children, and whilst not in any way evil, just as unpredictable, sincere, and open minded as children. As such I suggest that the halfling represents our childlike self, or to be hopelessly cliché about it, our inner child.
Our own internal, um, halfling a.k.a. childlike self, is naïve, innocent, brave, nimble and often gets into trouble. Playing the stereotypical halfling thief suggests to me that we usually express our childlike self through its twin role of the trickster/thief, by which we adapt to the challenges of life.
3.1.6. Gnomes
Gnomes are difficult to interpret. Gnomes suggest a lot and very little. I cannot find a single quality that would justify an archetypal reference. They are born tinkers and gadget men, but simultaneously fulfil the role as a charismatic figure, namely the bard. Their predisposition for illusionary magic might suggest that they represent our sense of fantasy and of the fantastic. I find them very ambivalent however, and I say that the jury is still out on gnomes.
3.1.7. Half-Orcs
Half-orcs, brutal, fierce and angry. Well, as such I do not think it too great a leap to suggest that half-orcs suggest our own innate anger and violence.
3.2. The Stories
I suggested earlier that fantasy stories fulfil the role of a modern mythology, allowing us to address and enter our own psychological/moral framework on an intuitive basis. I addresses the standard stories using heroes and villains, drawing moral boundaries and creating values, much as the old tales of the Brothers Grimm might have.
Now our stories are never just stories. They take place not only ‘a long, long time ago’ but also ‘far, far away’. They have a place in space/time. And I believe that space/time positioning says something about our subconscious framework and sense of self, just as much as the classes and races that we play.
3.2.1. Settings
3.2.1.1. The City
Cities abound in DnD cosmology as places of significance. Sigil, Waterdeep, Baldur’s Gate, Sharn. These names create their own sense of mystery and attraction, enough so that entire books have been dedicated to them. Dickens could create a powerful work called, ‘A tale of two cities’ almost as though the cities had distinct personalities of their own. New York, Washington, Jerusalem, Nagasaki, Rome. Just stating the names, one by one of each of these cities, we gain a unique perspective and sense of culture.
What do cities represent in terms of our ‘collective unconscious’. To hazard a guess I say that the city, as setting, represents two things, namely our conscious mind and our initial sense of self. The city is busy, like our conscious minds, and full of conflicting motivations. The city’s library suggests something of our intellectual side, its temples, our spiritual side, its marketplaces something of the way we interact and get what we want from people.
3.2.1.2. The Sewers
A city always has sewers and for some or other bizarre reason, the sewers always have thieves’ guilds. Sewers are smelly, damp and dark, and all manner of foul creatures can always be found within them. I think the sewers represent the first point of entry into our subconscious thought-life, and addresses in particular our more base thoughts, those aspects of ourselves that we might have preferred to have kept hidden. I think the sewers have a close affinity with the Jungian idea of the shadow.
3.2.1.3. The Wilds
Leaving the city we enter into the countryside, a place filled with deserts, tundra, fields, forests and mountain ranges. These individual areas represent in themselves different aspects of our psyche. (Who has not gone through ‘desert’ times in life?) More generally though I think that the various lands and areas represent our practical interfacing with the outward world.
3.2.1.4. The Underdark
The Underdark. The Underdark is our full-blown subconscious, or even unconscious. It is the world that is there that we never knew, never thought of and never wanted to think of. The creatures and dangers of the sewers do not even compare to the creatures of the underdark. It is a world of night and shadow.
Those who would dare to explore the perilous depths of the underdark are akin to those who would dare to explore their deep unconscious minds, facing hidden demons and creatures forgotten in the lost corners of our minds. The very nature of the underdark is morose, cloistered and heavy. As is all exploration of ourselves of our deep unconscious minds.
And as the underdark is faced with perils, sometimes too much introspection can open up demons such as the Balroc of LOR that we would never anticipate.
3.2.1.5. The Planes
The planes are something different to both the surface world and the underdark. Quite simply I suggest that the different planes represent different aspects of our spirituality. The shadow plane is perhaps the most obvious. It represents what Jung called our ‘shadow’, in perhaps a more conclusive and forceful representation that the illustration of the sewers.
And are the heavens not ‘the celestial planes’? (As such I think DnD players sometimes have a better conception of spiritual matters that theologians do not understand.) One can play around with the other planes a bit. I suppose we all have gotten stuck in a metaphorical Limbo from time to time.
3.2.2. Monsters
Stories always have villains, and heroes always have challenges. No one ever tells the story of the hero who had a nice life and then decided to go on retirement and lived happily ever after. Great heroes face great challenges, and great challenges have great monsters smack-dab in the middle of them. Lets quickly discuss a few monsters.
3.2.2.1. Giants
Somehow we always see our heroes as giants, and our enemies also, at least until we defeat them, after which they see like midgets. An undefeated Hitler is a giant, Hitler defeated is a small, small man. It is easy to think of our old headmasters as ‘giants’ when we are under their authority.
The heroic life faces its giants. And face it we all have giants. Our giants are those trials and challenges that are quite simply ‘too big’ for us. But the hero remembers, ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall’. As such the best being to face a giant, is the small halfling.
3.2.2.2. Dragons
Everybody knows about dragons. The Chinese have them. Europeans have them. South American Aztecs had them. The Bible has them. (Yeah the Bible is full of DnD.) Dragons are proud and fierce creatures. Dragons have giants for breakfast.
The easiest way to explain dragons is to say that they signify human pride, or perhaps I should say, an over-extended sense of human pride. Dragons also seem to represent wisdom. Scott Peck psychoanalysing dragons noticed that they are ‘snakes with wings’. In terms of Biblical lore snakes are deemed wise as is stated in the saying, ‘be wise as snakes and innocent as doves’.
I think one can play around a lot more with the whole theme of dragons.
3.2.2.3. Beholders
I love beholders. Beholders are fear. They represent fear perfectly. They have one big eye and other eyes everywhere. Does that not reek of paranoia? Paranoid people always wonder about everything and they take everything personally. And what does fear do? It paralyses. It petrifies. Just like beholders.
3.2.2.4. Undead
Undead. One can discuss them from different perspectives. One of the most base type of undead is the good old zombie. And face it, we have to face the undead every day, particularly in government. We enter into that ‘undead’ mode of living and being when we stop living intentionally, and life ‘happens’. It is easy, all to easy, to get stuck in a phase of life where we drone ahead, not fully living, not dead yet.
3.2.2.5. Vampires
My favourite undead, heck my favourite monster, is the noble vampire. I love Ann Rice’s novels. Sweet, passionate, rich, aesthetic, and fatally doomed. Such is the lot of vampires. Ann Rice’s vampires are no mean ‘beasts’. Rather they are creatures of elegance and refinement. They are hunters, they are feeders.
Vampires represent the dark side of human love. Vampires are love, yet somehow gone horribly wrong. I somehow think of Ms. Haversham from Dickens’ Great Expectations as a kind of vampire. Vampiric love, well, it feeds, it lives forever, it even grows stronger. It cannot move on. But it is not true love. It does not give life, but gently, passionately leeches it away. It is sweetly narcissitic and dooms its innocent prey.
Vampiric love is fatally codependent. It can never let go. It is a kind of love that says ‘I need’ more than ‘I care’. For vampiric love to set free is a kind of suicide. And all too often our dark love turns our beloveds into vampiric creatures themselves. A wonderful metaphor.
And so much for a few preliminary thoughts. Anyone else have some?
Sun gods abound. Every country knows about dragons, even though they are completely mythological. Every society has some or other mythology of mages. Everyone knows about giants, dwarves, ghosts and vampires. Sometimes the names differ a bit, but the creatures remain the same.
I think there are some misconceptions here. To say that it is only the names that differ in these mythological elements is to dismiss the richness of individual cultures. Sun Gods abound in lots of cultures not because they are universal reflections of our subconscious but because every culture on earth lives somewhere where they can see the sun. Dragons are prevalent because many cultures had unearthed bones of ancient dinosaurs or had contact with creatures they believed to be descendants or off-shoots of dragons. Finally the various myths about giants, dwarves ghosts and vampires that many cultures have are radically different from what we have ingrained in pop culture today. For instance many Oriental cultures believed that red hair was a sign of a vampire, and many ancient European myths thought that if vampires were buried they became werewolves. The multitude of myths surrounding giants are numerous because in all cultures there are some people that are taller than others and so it doesn't take much to imagine people that are much larger than anyone they have seen, the same goes for dwarves only on the opposite end of the scale.
Also as far as the D&D monsters are concerned they were pretty much developed by people who were thinking in the context of a fantasy world and maybe looked to mythology for inspiration or resources. I don't think you can definitely say the represent anything except for human imagination.
Dwarves are practical and hardworking. In many settings, dwarves are the craftsmen, utilizing extreme skill and patience to create mighty cities, powerful weapons, fine ale, and exquisite works of art.
From Tolkien to Warcraft to the Forgotten Realms, dwarves are shown to have strong ties to family and, by extension, their nation. Dwarves love wealth, but rarely is it personal wealth over the glory of the clan.
Best of all, dwarves, despite their long lives, live fast and hard. Always looking for a better fight, a better mine, and a better brew, dwarves aren't content to let centuries pass them by without getting anything done, unlike the pansy elves. Dance amid the starlight? Nonsense, there's work to be done, with a feast and a bar fight when it's over!
Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen make a very interesting point about the role of story-telling - specifically, and especially, of fantasy and the fantastic - in the development of mankind into what we are today, placing it above and beyond tool usage. This, they submit, is because it takes imagination and the aspiration to achieve something above and beyond our present circumstance in order to invent tools in the first taste.
At it's most basic, this amounts to "Thag have nut. Nut hard. Nice bit in nut. If Thag use rock, Thag break nut. Then, Thag eat nice bit." but evolves from there. Now Thag is well-fed and healthy, but "Thag cold. Thag wet. If Thag in cave, Thag not cold or wet. Thag not in cave. No cave near Thag. If Thag make cave, then Thag not be wet or cold..." and so Thag proceeds to build a house.
Continue along that line, and pretty soon, Thag's great-to-the-power-twenty grandchildren are all living in man-made caves called houses, eating nuts with sophisticated rocks called hammers, and generally living it up. But now they're bored, and curious about what else they could do with the world around them. They want to understand more, so they start to think about the way things work, and make up stories about how the moon is actually the carapace of the Great Beetle as it chases the Sun Horse around the sky.
Obviously, it takes a while to get as far as elves, dragons and the undead, but you see the point. Fantasizing and telling stories play an important part in stimulating the brain to examining the world and looking for new solutions to old problems. We raise children on the story of the Little Train that Could, which teaches that perseverance and determination (and, sometimes, sheer bloody-mindedness) will get us past our obstacles. Then we move on to "The Lord of the Rings" which features basically the same plot kernel (problem: work hard at it, and it's resolved) tied up in a more sophisticated package with a label that says "only suitable for adults and adolescents of 12 years or older", and contains undercurrents of honour, fraternal bonding, and the value of both beauty and wisdom.
Heroes and villains are there for a purpose - they're there to promote certain codes of behaviour and morality above others. The audience to the tale sympathises with, and roots for, the hero(s), and waits with eager anticipation for the brain-eating tentacle monster to die a deserved death on the end of the muscle-bound hero's sword. Eat brains, the message says, and die. Generations are brought up on this, and brain-eating becomes socially unacceptable.
The result is a twofold effect - stories stimulate and inspire their audience to greater things, but they also teach, instruct and bring people together in groups to behave according to a certain code of instilled morality. That's, by and large, the whole point of religion.
A very good article, mate, and a very interesting read. Nine claps and w00t!
The Quandry of Class as Archetype
You offer very strong readings of the d20 core classes as mythical archetypes, but you have focused on textual readings in a historical context at the expense of the individual player’s dramatic interpretation. Each of the classes represents a set of tools that the player uses to accomplish in-game goals. The ways in which players use those tools, act out those roles, has as at least as much bearing on the character’s ultimate archetype as the definitions set forth in the PHB.
For example, a fighter PC who goes the route of the dedicated archer/sniper does not face problems or trials head on, but from a safe distance with a calculated advantage. He is practical, yes, but is this truly decisiveness or merely stubborn adherence to a simple tactic that works time and again?
Likewise the wizard PC bent on collecting ever bigger and better fireball-style spells is less an investigator of mysteries than a warrior whose weapons are intangible yet overwhelming. Does such a character embrace mysteries beyond our understanding, or simply seek wish fulfillment?
When players come to the table they bring their own dramatic masks and Archetypes with them. Depending on who plays what, every class has the potential to be the Trickster, the Wild Man, or the Knight. Rather than forcing each class into an Archetype, show us the Archetypes and explain how each class might represent it.
Role Playing Mythos
Your straightforward outline of the archetypal plots of mythology matches up well with Joseph Campbell’s theory that, loosely speaking, there is one Myth that gets told over and over. A sound theory, and easy to demonstrate, but how should knowing this theory affect our D&D experience?
Do players find adventure sessions that match one of the archetypal plots more enjoyable?
Does knowing this theory take D&D out of the realm of “hobby” and put it back in oral tradition/perpetuation of myth/creation of community identity?
If it were possible to write/run an adventure session that did not match one of these archetypal plots, what would be the advantages/disadvantages to doing so?
Race and Mask
The player’s choice of character race may reveal more about dramatic identity and mythical archetype than the player’s choice of class. Class is doing, race is being, in a very primal way. Fantasy races tend to be abstractions and amplifications of human qualities, and are in every sense alter egos. While fantasy races are highly susceptible to stereotyping, they are also thereby the most likely to embody enduring Archetypes. Given most players’ reliance on racial archetype to mold characters, it is important that your reading of races take popular perception into account.
You mention that dwarves are portrayed positively, but seem to have glossed over that portrayal entirely, focusing on a close, non-contextual reading of the term “dwarf” itself. In our shared D&D mythos, dwarves are quite unflawed. They are shorter in stature than humans, yes, but by no means “stunted” in d20 terms—they are as strong if not stronger, and frequently associated with mountains and the toughness of stone. Much is made of their sense of tradition and history—hardly a representation of immaturity. If anything, playing a dwarf suggests to me a desire to have the respect accorded to bearded elders without the accompanying deficiencies of old age.
I also think you were a little hasty in your decision to skip over the Human as a racial choice open to interpretation. Surely, in a fantasy setting where all sorts of exotic races are available as options, choosing to play a Human instead of a fey or monstrous creature must mean something. Remember too that even though the Human character may lack exaggeration, he or she is still a heroic character with abilities beyond our own. A Human in a fantasy setting still represents some sort of ideal.
Semi-Summary
Your analysis so far has demonstrated that mythical archetypes indeed can be found in modern Dungeons & Dragons, and that the fantasy elements gamers take for granted can have deeper symbolic meanings. You’ve raised our awareness of the RPG rulebook as a site of cultural and personal expression, and that’s a good thing.
What your analysis has not provided is a reading of the actual game play experience as an event in which myths are recreated and archetypes enacted. You’ve helped us examine the script of the play, but left out the performance. Consider expanding your reading to include the in-game and meta-game traditions that have grown up around D&D: what would Jung say about the Munchkin, the Monty Haul campaign, the cliché of the adventure that begins in a tavern? Why and how does one player manage to play an elven druid, a human thief, and a half-dragon barbarian in exactly the same way? What about the DM, who plays no single character but inhabits every NPC and monster simultaneously?
If you want to tighten up your analysis, give it a familiar framework. Lead us on a Jungian reading as we follow a “typical” D&D party (DM, players and their characters) through one evening’s gaming session, from tavern to treasure. What’s the Jungian meaning of the obstacles they face, the ways they overcome them, the goals of the characters in the quest and the players in the game?
Some comparisons/contrast with other types:
The Druid is to the Mage as the Ranger is to the Fighter
The Druid is to the Masculine way as the Witch is to the Feminine way
Fitz
Balroc of LOR
Not to nitpick, but it's BalroG and LOTR
To play a half-orc, and cast that half-orc as the hero, represents rising above a low birth to achieve nobility in a unique way: All other PC races have some claim to inborn nobility, which a Half-Orc lacks.
The other point worth noting is that monotheistic faiths seem to have endured the test of time more so than polytheistic faiths. Obviously, there are exceptions, but remember that Christianity is the most widespread faith in the world, and Islam the fastest-growing - and both are monotheistic.
What about the DM, who plays no single character but inhabits every NPC and monster simultaneously?
This, I thought, might be fairly obvious. The DM is the gnome bard of the group, the storyteller that weaves the fantasy for his friends. What good is an epic tale if there's no one to tell it? (On another note, my first character -was- a gnome bard, and now I'm a DM...)
Question for the original poster though: Did you do this in your spare time or is this a psychology thesis?
2.8. The Monk
I have read some works of ‘real life’ monks, passionate about a life of quiet contemplation. Both the East and West has had monasteries for many centuries where ascetics could withdraw from the world to enter into a inner world more real to them than the world ‘outside’. The monks of fantasy DnD are however a far cry away from historical monks. This is in part attributable to martial art movies and the role of the Shaolin Monks have had through those films.
I think the core of the monk in terms of DnD fantasy literature, is not the contemplative lifestyle, nor the asceticism, nor even the martial arts, but the idea of balance. The monk is a fulcrum between inward and outward reality. He balances his thoughts, his feelings, his body and his skills to perfection. His being, including his body, is his ‘magic’. The asceticism, the contemplation, the solitude – all these things are but tools to find balance. When outward reality is withdrawn from, inward reality can be brought into balance.
And as such balance is not such a bad thing to pursue.
I cannot completely agree. The D&D Monk is less a seeker of balance (Neutral) and more a seeker of control (must be Lawful). The primary thrust of their abilities is to increase the control they have over their opponents (stunning fist, imp Trip, imp Grapple, etc) and to reduce or eliminate the control the opponent has over them (still mind, diamond body, slow fall, etc). As such, the Monk is always on a quest for mastery of self. The monk does not draw strength from his surroundings as does the druid, nor show strength by altering the surroundings as does the wizard. (IMO) The Monk embodies a complete independence from circumstance and surroundings; the ultimate in self-sufficiency, self-knowledge, and self-control.
Then we move on to "The Lord of the Rings" which features basically the same plot kernel (problem: work hard at it, and it's resolved) tied up in a more sophisticated package with a label that says "only suitable for adults and adolescents of 12 years or older", ...
And the majority hereabouts probably ignored that label sometime in grade school, assuming they weren't in college when it was written. ;)
Comments:
- This piece reads like a reference manual (reminds me in particular of the w3c specifications what with the 2.1.3 headings). Your opinion on that?
- Some of your wording is too passive for the general assertive (dare I say "persuasive"? ) tone. Simply too many 'simplys' for a proper active voice.
- Rather than drawing connect the dots from classes to Jungian (or Campbell's) archetypes .. you could explore the way that the D&D concepts have effected the way we (as gamers) view classical archetypes.
Playing a fighter allows us to experience the role of a forceful and practical self-archetype. Allows us to wrap ourselves in the concept of the self-possessed and highly competent expert in his/her field.
- I am familiar with archetypes, and I'm certain that any who are will be able to sense the connections between the archetypes and the concepts in D&D. When 'persuading' you would usually suggest some sort of change in behavior. If your only intent is to bring us abreast of the archetypical connections then - perhaps you could collapse some of those subparagraphs, and try to analyze some of the concepts in groups.
- (related to the last comment) Your last paragraph is begging for a rewrite.. you could posit some suggestions for the reader in the final paragraph - boarding aside ;) - it undercuts the confidence throughout the piece to end on a "wobbly" note such as "what else?"
- I really like the "word-source breakdowns" (can't remember how to spell that proper term, SO I won't use it) especially Barbarii. Didn't know that one, and I know whole baskets full of Latin and Greek.
- In a related note (to Latin and Greek) I would not call this so much a "philosophizing" as an "anthropologizing." I'm probably being particular, but philosophizing is more speculative than assertive. If you take it far enough you will probably hit psychoanalyzing, but philosophy usually entails something unseen or unobvious until described. Yeah, D&D is a game of archetypes. I think several of D&D's cousins use the term explicitly in place of "class".
- (Additions?) I would have more monsters. Terrasque, and the archetype of the epoch monster (yeah that's "epoch")? How about the Orc/Goblin and the archetype of "the other." Why do you think they have orcs, and goblins, and trolls (oh my! ). So you're not killing "people" all the time.
- (Subtractions?) The setting archetypes are too simple. "The Underdark represents our subconscious?" to D' -(most famous drow ever) the Underdark probably represented something like the past that can't stay put. Settings can mean many different romantic things depending on the archetype of your character. How does a city represent a Druid's consciousness when her concept of self is running through the underbrush? A city can represent civility or savagery. An advanced society or the breakdown of such. A particular fantasy city may have been built with a specific concept in mind, but even that city can mean many things to different archetypes.
all in all I will leave the rest of this alone for now, but I have to make this observation: The undead do not advance. Any DM who allows an undead to gain so much as a Skill Point wit out some loss is mis-playing the type, or allowing it to be mis-played. Undead are static at best, and degenerating in some way or another. Any advance that the undead type gains needs to be balanced by a greater disadvantage.
Life is the Realm of advancement; unlife is degeneration and corruption. Any change to that is a violation of the concept of undeath.
Just as we can trace the linguistic roots of a people so too can we trace their mythological roots. The stories of Culture X and Culture Y, though now separated by thousands of mile and thousands of years, bear similar elements cos they both grew out of Culture Z many millennia ago.
Jung's collective unconscious is a romantic notion, but in real life it just doesn't hold up - it is more magic than manifest - and Ocham's Razor wins out more often than not.
Jung postulated 4 axes that people fall on as far as their personality types. Briefly these are:
Introverted - Extroverted
iNtuitive - Sensate
Thinking - Feeling
Judging - Perceiving
All people favor one style of operating from each of these diads, so you might get someone who is:
Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, and Judging
(note that for abbreviation iNtuitive has the N capitalized, thus the above example would be an INFJ)
While another person might be some other combination.
These styles of interacting with the world shape how we percieve, process and organize data. I won't get into the specifics of this, but people tend to group into:
Sensate Judging
Sensate Perceiving
iNtuitive Feeling
iNtuitive Thinking
As their primary ways of operating in the world.
Sensate Perceiving people operate on the basis of their senses, and tend to take the world as it comes. They focus on performance and results. They are found in about 37.5% of the population -Archetype: Hunter
Sensate Judging people operate on the basis of their senses, and tend to try to organize, plan and prepare. They focus on organizations and community. They are found in about 37.5% of the population -Archetype: Gatherer
An iNtuitive Feeling person operates out of and from their emotions, and process their emotional worlds on with an intuitive style. They are found in about 12.5% of the population - Archetype: Priest
iNtuitive Thinkers operate out of and from the world of ideas. They process their ideas using intuition, reason and logic. They are found in about 12.5% of the population - Archetype: Wizard
Now historically, the first character classes released in D&D (way back in the very first boxed set) were Fighter, Wizard and Cleric. The very first supplement (Grayhawk), featured the Thief. These four classes exemplify these four basic archetypes. The loosest of the three is the Thief of course, and note that "gathering" is the least sexy of the archetypes (from a man's point of view). But what do thieves do? They "gather" wealth from the community, and operate out of guilds. Fits pretty well doesn't it?
So you can see that the four basic classes of D&D parallel the four basic archetypes of the human community.
As an aside, there are several similar character groups that do the same. Take the fantastic four:
Reed Richards - Wizard
Sue Storm - Priest (arguably the emotional center of the team)
Jonny Storm - Rogue
Ben Grim - Fighter
As a complete aside, one can apply a different set of archetypes to another team of note: The original star trek crew -
"Bones" McCoy - Id
James T Kirk - Ego
Mr. Spock - Super Ego
If you look at almost any really seminal sci-fi or fantasy story, you will find some very strong Freudian and Jungian themes and archetypes in them. In fact, the more strongly ANY story moves us, the more clearly one can find these themes. This is because we really ARE programmed to respond to these archetypes, both by our culture and our biology. It's fun to watch.
I just wish I could figure out how to make some real money at it. But that's the subject for another post.
Your straightforward outline of the archetypal plots of mythology matches up well with Joseph Campbell’s theory that, loosely speaking, there is one Myth that gets told over and over. A sound theory, and easy to demonstrate, but how should knowing this theory affect our D&D experience?
Do players find adventure sessions that match one of the archetypal plots more enjoyable?
Does knowing this theory take D&D out of the realm of “hobby” and put it back in oral tradition/perpetuation of myth/creation of community identity?
If it were possible to write/run an adventure session that did not match one of these archetypal plots, what would be the advantages/disadvantages to doing so?
If you want to tighten up your analysis, give it a familiar framework. Lead us on a Jungian reading as we follow a “typical” D&D party (DM, players and their characters) through one evening’s gaming session, from tavern to treasure. What’s the Jungian meaning of the obstacles they face, the ways they overcome them, the goals of the characters in the quest and the players in the game?
Dang, stole my thunder. Well, I am not a psychologist, but I studied Jung, Campbell, Lacan, and Zizek. And I am also a critical theorist in the field of literary studies. I tend to side with Lacan and Zizek against Jung/Campbell's interpretations as being a bit narrow and based off assumptions not readily supported. However, I agree that this article would be stronger with a bit more influence directly from Campbell and Jung themselves. Also, I would suggest that the understanding of archetypes is perhaps a bit misunderstood within the context of this genre such that all of the classes fit the hero archetype and instead represent facets of that archetype which reflects the group orientation of the genre of party-based fantasy myth-construction rather than each representing their own archetype. However, I applaud this article as a step in the right direction. There is a deeper impulse we pursue in this grand "hobby" of ours, and it is a necessity that we each embrace it as strongly as possible and engage our very being within the grand historical tradition of mythical story-experience.
I did write it, in many respects superficially, and in that regard I am particularly thankful to, in particular, SwitchUK and Okaynowa. I cannot say that I intended to write anything definitively, but to 'put it to the board' as 'tentative thoughts'.
Now to the task of thinking and wrestling through your comments . . .
In Snow-White, dwarfs are actually gnomes. The seven dwarfs (seven is, as you all know, a highly mystical number) represent seven major traits. I did not dig enough on this, but I know they are discussed in esoteric fields.
What is role playing? What attracts us to it? Is it just a hobby? Or is it something more? My thoughts on the framework of the role-playing experience are simply the backdrop to our role-playing experience. I sought to set the stage, and not the performance. Before we can understand the symphony we need to understand the instruments by which the music is set.
But Okaynowa raises a valid point. What is our role-playing experience? I think what draws us after role-playing is the fact that, on some primal level we recognise that the mythic reality is more real than the ‘real’ world. By no means do I suggest that we abandon ourselves to a world of fantasy. Certainly not.
I still cringe when recalling someone I know who greets as though he were a Vulcan. (Live long and prosper with funny hand movements and all of that.) And lets be honest, there are some who abandon them to the fantasy of it all, particularly in the D&D role-playing environment. (Losing oneself to fantasy is of course the theme of The Neverending Story (The Book) and Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Heck it is even addressed in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. But that is a discussion for another day.)
But no, I think there is a certain reality to what I mythic role-playing. We role-play because the reality of the characters we play exist inside of us. D&D in particular perpetuates our development of mythology as a psychodynamic reality. Quite simply we need it.
Consider our daily lives: We work or go to school. We do what we need to do. We pay our taxes, pay our bonds, pay our debts. We do our homework. On the way to work, or while we are watching TV we are assaulted by the marketing machine telling us what we want and who we ought to be. It is all one big **** of the senses. Shallow politicians, shallow shows and shallow media call us to live shallow lives. We all become cogs in the corporate machine. We become drones in the hive. Resistance is futile.
But somehow our subconscious calls for a more authentic experience and interpretation of life. We role play because in a very real sense we are those heroes we role-play. They do not merely represent us, they are us. They live and breath our own true experience of life as an adventure and a great exploration.
They reflect ‘incarnated’ aspects of ourselves, and by role-playing those characters, we engage our own unconscious psycho-moral framework, to revisit and review our interpretation of life. We develop our imaginations and our inner alter-egos.
The purpose of mythology is, I think, to teach and to free us to dream. And dreams are all too important things. Without them we become withered, living lives akin to the undead zombies that our heroes battle. We decay into living lives without meaning. And that is a very sad thing.
Fantasy, on one level or another, incorporates exploration, adventure, and archetypal character development into our lives when the world around us screams for blind conformity.
2. Where Does Mythology Come From?
Where does mythology come from? Now Baator and SwitchUK criticised a ‘deeper’ interpretation of mythology from a developmental perspective. The general intimation is that mythology is created ad hoc and incidentally, and that similarities between cultures are purely coincidental.
But let us consider: Let’s say that mythology is a developmental creation: So What? What difference does it make? Perhaps mythology is God-inspired, perhaps it is a social construct that aids our moral development, perhaps mythology is completely irrational and perhaps reflects our human digestion of Plato’s Ideal Forms. But so what? What difference does it make?
I am not here to defend Jung, Nietzsche, Darwin or any other thinker. Their theories are exactly that: theories. We accept their theories because they make sense, and not because they can be definitively proven. Fact of the matter is that different mythologies have a very great deal in common, even if they differ here and there in the details.
Cultures around the world describe similar struggles in similar mythologies, in processes that echo psychological theories, particularly the theories of the psychologists that majored on the subconscious (Freud, Jung, Adler) and existential psychologists. (May, Rogers et al.) Coincidence? An opinion, even an acceptable opinion, but not one I can agree with.
The question that accompanies this one, I think, is whether if mythology evolves? To that I can say an emphatic yes. Psionics as case in point. Whereas psionic effects are comparable in the ‘magics’ of various cultures, only when Western Civilisation started emphasising the role of the mind, through our frantic development of science and related disciplines such as psychology did psionics develop in our mythology.
3. All the World’s A Stage: What About the Actors?
To briefly return to a discussion of the DnD archetypes. I intentionally did not classify the D&D classes (and races for that matter) under the classical Jungian archetypes, which I do not think was ever meant to be a numerus clausus of archetypes.
Now there are various permutations within a particular class, as Okaynowa noted. One can play a fighter as, for example, a hefty handed great hammer bludgeoner, or as a keen-eyed uber-archer, or a swashbuckling fighter who wields his sabre as a surgeon might wield a scalpel. These differences, I submit, do not propose new archetypes, but rather explain different ways in terms of which people relate to relatively standard archetypes.
Psychoanalysing the example, I would say the archer faces trials and trouble by wearing them down from afar, whilst the hammer wielder tackles his problems with all the tact of a bull in a china shop, whilst the swashbuckler addresses his trials with careful analysis and methodical reduction. Same archetype, different performances according to different personalities.
One can pretty much say the same of Okaynowa’s example of the fireball wielding mage versus the utilitarian mage. One could say that the former appropriate mystery in their lives to embrace power, whilst the latter does so for the purposes of service.
Regarding Gnomes: my thanks to Joni-san. I did not even make the connection between gnomes and gnosis. By way of a slight errata gnosis is of course knowledge, whereas sophia would be wisdom. But indeed describing gnomes as knowledge mongers makes a lot of sense. I think Joni-san to be on the mark with that one. Similarly with orcs I think 01d55’s remarks have merit.
As for Craveslove’s thoughts on the druid, I think they can take a bit of more work. The druid represents balance, at least in some way, and is therefore not by necessity the counterpoint to the civility and order of the world. Indeed a druid might say that nature is just as much manifest in the city as in the wilds, except just in a different way. In order for us to recognise any aspect as an archetype, I think, we have to be able to say, “The ---- (type) represents the ----- (abstraction) within me.” The abstraction of ‘wildness’ is negated by the other aspect of the druid, namely balance.
In regard to Edymion’s remarks in respect of polytheism: I also find it fascinating. A religion with a multitude of deities invariably has its deities as living archetypes, the incarnation of certain ideas as divine portfolios. And indeed the collective unconscious as root of polytheism makes a lot of sense. We as human beings require to address our archetypes, and for a more primitive man (albeit in relative terms) various ‘gods’ is at least in part a natural way by which this may occur.
Regarding monotheism Edymion’s remarks seem to suggest to me something of the footprints of God: a suggestion that God does exist, - simply because a single God is not an easy archetype. We can of course say that God is the incarnation of just about everything, but to the human mind this is at least to some degree unnatural. But such debates are difficult to engage, particularly on a forum as this.
I suppose it is for this reason also that there has been no monotheistic DnD campaign. (If you would pardon a bit of side-tracking, CS Lewis favourite mythology was Norse mythology, in terms of which the gods were nobly and boldly waging war on the Titans and steadily losing. Reminds me of the gods and the Valheru of Feist’s novels. A campaign in terms of which all the gods have died or fallen asleep might also prove quite interesting.)
PS: As to XBobbis's question: No I just have a general interest in literature, psychology, philosophy, theology and science. And my day-job is in law.
Elves are tall, slim, graceful, elegant, refined. They are particularly long lived. They are very aesthetically minded, and immersed in the arcane and nature. As such I think elves represent our ideal selves.
The other possibility, being perhaps overly refined, elegant and civil, elves might represent, in Nietszchian terms, the Apollonian motivations within us for civility. Thus one might say elves represent our moral, dignified and civil selves. Given elves’ affinity for nature, I however think this is at least in part a counter-intuitive conclusion.
At the same time, elves are also often profiled as arrogant, racist, condescending and unempathic. I'd say that elves are a far cry from out "perfect selves," and more accurately reflect an imperfect being's desire for perfection. Their mystique, the large number of positions marked "for elves only," and their tendency to constantly call attention to their own supremacy seems to me to be the symptoms of a group desperately trying to justify its own sense of superiority. Sometimes they're every bit as great as they claim, but in general the search for perfection is more appealing than the idea that someone else has already achieved it. It should also be noted that with the possible exception of dwarves, the elves seem the most likely to judge others based on matters of race. In this perhaps they reflect a desire that the world be that simple: "I'm an elf, I'm great; you're a dwarf, you're not; he's an orc, he dies."
Dwarves
Not meaning to be in any way racist, particularly applying racial prejudices or not to fantasy, but well, dwarves are stunted. They represent to me the opposite of elves. Whereas elves represent the fullest growth and maturity a being could achieve, the very term ‘dwarf’ suggest something that failed to achieve it true maturity.
Well, several fantasy novelists would seem to agree with you. But there are other interpretations (though the two races do seem to exist mainly to contrast with one another). For example, elves tend to favor stereotypically feminine characteristics, and dwarves tend more toward the masculine. Another way to look at it is that dwarves are elves - a powerful, long-lived and highly-skilled people with an overdeveloped sense of ethnic identity - with all the glamour stripped away. The idea, and then the reality, perhaps.
Dwarves’ affinity for gold and material wealth – these suggest that dwarves represent something venal within ourselves. Duergar in particular seem to suggest the rut of meaningless toil for wealth in which we all too often find ourselves.
I think a dwarf would say that his people represent an honest day's work, and the work of one's own hands. Certainly dwarves seem to represent something materialistic, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's something unworthy. It just means that archetypal dwarves deal in tangible values. Also, why do Duergar get such specific focus in this article in comparison to other subraces?
Dwarves are not portrayed as a negative race (although Duergar are.) As such it is a positive thing to play a dwarf. Why? Playing a dwarf, one might speculate, allows one to address one’s own immature and underdeveloped aspects. As such I think role-playing a dwarf signifies something of confronting our own inherent limitations, flaws and vulnerabilities.
I generally don't play dwarves, but I think there's more to them than overcoming one's flaws. Dwarves also represent endurance, and strength. Dwarves are the heroes who can hold their liquor, and charge in with axes flailing.
Gnomes
Gnomes are difficult to interpret. Gnomes suggest a lot and very little. I cannot find a single quality that would justify an archetypal reference. They are born tinkers and gadget men, but simultaneously fulfill the role as a charismatic figure, namely the bard. Their predisposition for illusionary magic might suggest that they represent our sense of fantasy and of the fantastic. I find them very ambivalent however, and I say that the jury is still out on gnomes.
It would be helpful to note that prior to Dragonlance the D&D gnome was much less the gadget-man, and much more of a trickster (with "Illusionist" as his preferred vocation). I'd say that the gnome represents the "inner child" as much as the halfling does, with not only the trickster-elements (affinity for illusion, the bard as a hybrid of two "trickster" classes: rogue and mage), but now the curiosity and wonder than comes of invention.
Half-orcs
Half-orcs, brutal, fierce and angry. Well, as such I do not think it too great a leap to suggest that half-orcs suggest our own innate anger and violence.
Wouldn't the barbarian be a more obvious choice for an embodiment of our innate anger and violence?
3.1.1. Humans
Humans are, well, humans. What we are. Not much to be said about them.
Hardly. D&D humans can have their archetype defined comparatively to the other races. We know from the PHB that they get a feat and skills of the player's choice. In addition, they are the most populous race, who spread out to all corners of the earth. This speaks to the relative adaptability and ambition of humanity.
In a way, yes, they are us. But, compared to the other races, they definitely evoke a modern, capitalistic flavor of humanity, where adaptability and ambition are the species unique abilities. Halflings have this resourcefulness as well, but I would argue that.
3.1.2. Elves
Elves are tall, slim, graceful, elegant, refined. They are particularly long lived. They are very aesthetically minded, and immersed in the arcane and nature. As such I think elves represent our ideal selves.
The other possibility, being perhaps overly refined, elegant and civil, elves might represent, in Nietzschian terms the Apollonian motivations within us for civility. Thus one might say elves represent our moral, dignified and civil selves. Given elves’ affinity for nature, I however think this is at least in part a counter-intuitive conclusion.
You are thinking of Tolkien elves. D&D elves are elegant and graceful, but not tall. They are rich, worldly aesthetes. They are the "in" people - refined, cool, fashionable. They are long lived enough that they can concentrate on things beyond basic survival - beauty, magic, and nature.
I don't think, however, that elves are especially moral or civil. That is purely Tolkien Lawful Good elves. The elven idea goes back much further (and is seen in Tolkien's The Hobbit). They are epicureans.
"Obviously, it takes a while to get as far as elves, dragons and the undead..."
I will leave the rest of this alone for now, but I have to make this observation: The undead do not advance. Any DM who allows an undead to gain so much as a Skill Point wit out some loss is mis-playing the type, or allowing it to be mis-played. Undead are static at best, and degenerating in some way or another. Any advance that the undead type gains needs to be balanced by a greater disadvantage.
Life is the Realm of advancement; unlife is degeneration and corruption. Any change to that is a violation of the concept of undeath.
And this one has no basis anywhere. But let us not argue the point here. If you do start a thread on the matter, I'll be there.
I took exactly one course of Psychology in college while getting my Mechanical Engineering degree and used it primarily to complete my Fluid Dynamics homework. Please don't hold that against me as I'm going to follow the K.I.S.S. theory below. To save myself from typing it over and over the following is simply my opinion and not an attempt to define what anyone else should think. I think a lot could be learned if people reduced all their thoughts about a particular topic (i.e. elves, clerics, etc) to a single word BEFORE going into any further details. I think people let their ideas get clouded with details before they really have fully cemented what their idea is in the first place.
Read it, dissect it, offer your own one word ideas. Think of it as Mad Libs, D&D style.
Class = Action [It defines the tools at your disposal when facing conflict and represents a path that was chosen rather than assigned.]
Race = Anchor [It defines that which we cannot change and provides a common frame of reference. It is both a boon and a burden depending on the conflict in question and therefore forces everyone to deal with their innate nature.]
Fighter = Confrontation [A fighter represents the resolution of conflict through direct confrontation or the threat of confrontation.]
Ranger = Freedom [A ranger signifies the resistance to the will of anyone but yourself. Every conflict will be dealt with your way.]
Barbarian = Emotion [A barbarian is the physical manifestation of all human emotion. Whatever emotion a Barbarian has is apparent in every action he does. Conflict is often handled without regard to consequences.]
Paladin = Morality [A paladin will deal with all conflicts in a manner filtered by their morality.]
Thief = Deception [A thief operates by "changing the rules of the game at halftime". They seek to unbalance those around them by altering the expected normal.]
Mage = Secrets [A wizard or sorcerer operates by using what is uncommon knowledge to others when faced with conflict.]
Psion = Self [A Psion represents a person who deals with conflict by looking within themselves rather than outside themselves. In Zen terms they "become the tool."]
Monk = Restraint [A monk approaches a conflict with the maximum amount of restraint they can muster. A monk defines his existence as the absence of excess.]
Cleric = Conduit [A cleric draws power from an ideal source to overcome conflicts by serving as a instrument of divine will. They in effect sacrifice their personal being and free will to act as a path for the ideal to affect the flawed.]
Druid = Balance [A druid sees every conflict as simply the result of a situation being out of balance. A druid seeks to restore this balance regardless of all other factors.]
Bard = Grace [A bard represents the ability to resolve a conflict in a manner that typically inspires awe in others. They have just enough of what it takes to do what needs to be done and do so in a fashion that "fits right in" to the situation.]
Human = Infinity [Humans represent the idea that all is possible by any who dare. The sky is the limit regardless of where you start.]
Elf = Ego [Elves represent the never ending spiral an unchecked ego will follow. On the surface they seem to have reached the ideal self but this is just a way to show that perfection is not always perfect.]
Half Elf = Guidance [A half elf represents the desire to seek the ideal forever knowing that it cannot be achieved. They know that the ideal existence lay at an infinite point and that while it can never be reached it's light can always be followed.]
Dwarf = Duty [A dwarf was born with a purpose and to do any less than fulfill that purpose is to fail as a being. They perform without question because they were not put here to ask why.]
Halfling = Ignorance [Ignorance is not the negative term people often interpret it to be. It simply means that you are unaware of something. Children have no fear because they are ignorant of the cause and effect principle. Halfings embody the "Seize the day mentality" where they simply don't bother themselves with knowledge about that which is not directly in front of them.]
Gnome = Why [The gnome lives life by constantly trying to determine the answer to the eternal question, why. They seek knowledge in any form and apply it for no practical reason than to gain further insight as to why.]
Half Orc = Driven [A half orc is driven by their powerful emotions to see how far they can go. A emotion is only useful as energy to incite action and there is no limit to what any given action may result in.]
Orc = Primal [While not technically a normal PC class I wanted to include it as a point of reference for Half Orcs. Orcs are the racial equivalent of the barbarian class. They act on emotion at a primal level.]
The settings and monsters section didn't really strike me enough to warrant more one word descriptions. Hopefully some of you will find these choices interesting. The words chosen were not the "first thing to pop into my mind" but were rather a "boiled down essence" of how I view each topic. Everyone no doubt has different one word choices and perhaps through sharing them we'd gain a better understanding of fantasy.
Jung's collective unconscious is a romantic notion, but in real life it just doesn't hold up - it is more magic than manifest - and Ocham's Razor wins out more often than not.
I think you're misunderstanding Jung's ideas about the collective unconscious. As I understand it, Jung did not propose the collective unconscious as some sort of magical, mystical connection between living beings, but rather as the most basic level of the mind, the instincts and responses that are hard-wired into all human beings.
3.2.2.2. Dragons
Everybody knows about dragons. The Chinese have them. Europeans have them. South American Aztecs had them. The Bible has them. (Yeah the Bible is full of DnD.) Dragons are proud and fierce creatures. Dragons have giants for breakfast.
The easiest way to explain dragons is to say that they signify human pride, or perhaps I should say, an over-extended sense of human pride. Dragons also seem to represent wisdom. Scott Peck psychoanalysing dragons noticed that they are ‘snakes with wings’. In terms of Biblical lore snakes are deemed wise as is stated in the saying, ‘be wise as snakes and innocent as doves’.
I think one can play around a lot more with the whole theme of dragons.
One thing that I would add about dragons is the different treatment that they received in Eastern and Westen lore. From what I understand, in Eastern lore, dragons are viewed more favorably than they were in the West. Western stories were always about knights going out and killing the greedy dragons and rescuing maidens from them.
Interestingly, I think that the Eastern dragons roughly correspond to the metallic dragons of D&D, while the Western dragons correspond to the chromatic dragons, so both treatments appear in D&D.
Elves and Dwarves, metaphorically speaking, represent two polar extremes. As such I have posited that Elves, in a sense, represents our ideal selves, and Dwarves our more base or underdeveloped aspects. This interpretation has provoked some criticism. So I thought I would explain myself.
It is of course possible to say that Elves and Dwarves represent other aspects of life and being. Archetypes are of course generalisations, and a lot of generalisations depends on the perspective of the person generalising. In this way we could perhaps say that elves represent our aesthetic selves, and dwarves our elemental selves, (reveling in a care free, passionate way of living.) This interpretation would, I think, be more than acceptable.
(Like Tolkien I prefer speaking of Elven and Dwarves rather than Elfin and Dwarfs. It somehow elevates the fantasy races out of the realm of Santa Clause, Garden Gnomes and the Tooth Fairy.)
Elves and Dwarves do, I think, represent, as alternative, two elemental opposites. Judeo-Christian theology divides man into body, soul and spirit, with the soul, as seat of self, balanced between the motivations of flesh and spirit. Freud, a staunch atheist, ironically came to very similar conclusions dividing being into the motivations of the id, ego and super-ego, with the ego balancing the calls of the id and super-ego.
I have suggested that elves represent our ideal selves. That is not to say that they are our perfect selves. Perhaps it would be better to say that they are, maybe in a sense, our idealised selves. One could even call elves representations of our super-ego. Conscience, in a sense, is the experience of dissonance between who we are and who we want to be, - between our real selves and our ideal selves.
Not all of our idealisations are in fact ideal. Often our consciences are over-idealised and ill-pragmatic. Sometimes our ideals may be hypocritical, judgmental and even wrong. This is one place where we may posit elves. Creatures of magic, they neatly fit in the niche of the ideal. They belong, metaphorically speaking, closer to the realm of thought than to this world.
Just as elves can be proud, cold and hypocritical, so also our own idealisations can leave us proud and haughty, and even removed from tangible growth. The tale of Elminster in Myth Drannor begins with an Elf recognising how the elven people being closed to the outside world have stagnated.
Dwarves on the other hand are a people of the earth, a race of stone. Which of course reminds one of man being formed ‘of the dust of the earth’. As such one can say that dwarves represent aspects of the id or the flesh. Primal, elemental and underdeveloped. Just as saying that Elves are a representation of the ideal does not make elves a positive image, similarly I do not believe this makes dwarves a negative image. Perhaps saying ‘id’ or ‘flesh’ is not positive enough, as these in themselves from time to time have negative connotations.
Plato said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” This is also something that an elf might say. A dwarf would say, “The unlived life is not worth examining.” Dwarves are not stereotypically a naturally contemplative or aesthetic race. They take enjoyment in the primal experiences of life: food, drink, work, friendship.
Humans. Humans I would say represent the self, the ego, the soul. They are the ones who go about doing and being. They have to balance the motivations of the flesh and spirit, of the id and super-ego, of the dwarven primacy, and of the elven idealism.
This is of course only an interpretation, and I am more than open to other possible views on the races.
I think you're misunderstanding Jung's ideas about the collective unconscious. As I understand it, Jung did not propose the collective unconscious as some sort of magical, mystical connection between living beings, but rather as the most basic level of the mind, the instincts and responses that are hard-wired into all human beings.
Not at all. Rather I think that perhaps you are not quite understanding it. Jung's collective unconscious has nothing to do with "instincts and responses". He posited that archetypes - like the hero, the sage, the fool, etc. - are hard-wired into our psyches, an inborn hereditary mythology with which all humans instantly connect in a deep and meaningful way.
Again I contend that, while a romantic notion, it is absolute rubbish. Jung is putting the cart before the horse. These archetypes speak to us not cos of a collective unconscious has caused us to manifest them but rather because they have been honed over many thousands of years specifically to appeal to us. The universal meaning associated with them is an effect, not a cause.
These archetypes speak to us not cos of a collective unconscious has caused us to manifest them but rather because they have been honed over many thousands of years specifically to appeal to us. The universal meaning associated with them is an effect, not a cause.
But why is it that they appeal to us - and not just us specifically, but humans in different parts of the globe, throughout history? What sort of honing has made these archetypes appeal so broadly? Is it all learned, then conveyed from one generation to the next? Is that what you're suggesting? I suppose that's a plausible explanation. I'm not sure that it's entirely satisfying, but hey, I'm just glad that we were talking about the same concept, and that you didn't have the idea that the collective unconscious was some sort of quasi-magical or paranormal phenomenon. :D
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3. All the World’s A Stage: What About the Actors?
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As for Craveslove’s thoughts on the druid, I think they can take a bit of more work. The druid represents balance, at least in some way, and is therefore not by necessity the counterpoint to the civility and order of the world. Indeed a druid might say that nature is just as much manifest in the city as in the wilds, except just in a different way. In order for us to recognise any aspect as an archetype, I think, we have to be able to say, “The ---- (type) represents the ----- (abstraction) within me.” The abstraction of ‘wildness’ is negated by the other aspect of the druid, namely balance.
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Hmm, I didn't mean to imply any "wildness" in the druid. I accept 'wildness' is a ranger trait. Neither did I mean to suggest that the druid lacks civility or order.
To fit the formula you gave, I would say, "The Druid (type) represents the Wisdom/Power of the Natural World (abstraction) within me."
Consider our modern way of life, we come up with an idea and bend the world around us to fit or serve that idea. That is the source or quality of our power. The Druid represents a different approach, one that works within and through nature.
Balance is one way of being and working with nature, but I think it isn't the core of the archetype. The real core is an appreciation that Nature too is powerful, that there are those who go into the seemingly mysterious and disordered wilderness and come out with a greater understanding of things, wiser, not wilder.
In contrast to a Ranger: while a Ranger might go into the wilderness and begin to emulate the animals, a Druid might go in and learn about the animals and the ways of Nature itself. Choosing Wisdom rather than cunning/ferocity is what separates the Druid from the Ranger.
Fitz