Sue, Stu, and the Wish Fulfilment Razor

To make a long story short: Christopher Paolini made a splash in the literary world about five or six years ago with the publication of Eragon, a fantasy novel he first composed when he was fifteen. It sold over a million copies in hardcover, and two sequels have gone on to cement Paolini's status as one of the most lucrative authors of teen fiction (particularly fantasy). Second only to Meyer and Rowling, really.

Eragon is the classic tale of a young boy who gets everything he ever dreamed of when he discovers a dragon egg and becomes a Rider, one of the few, the brave, the proud who once ruled Alagaesia with magic and seemingly endless wisdom. Only problem is, in modern times, the riders have been overthrown by the 3v1l king Galbatorix and his black dragon (who is addicted to cheap Chinese anti-depressants). Thus, Eragon sets out with Obi-Brom Kenobi to join the Rebellion against the evil Empire and rescue a beautiful princess from captivity.

Okay, okay, so the plot is what you might call "archetypal". It blends the worldbuilding of Lord of the Rings, the overplot of Star Wars, and a bastardized form of the magic system from A Wizard of Earthsea. But that alone wouldn't be enough to sink the book (and its abysmal sequels).

See, the problem from where I'm sitting (the Grainger Hall A/V office) is that Eragon is essentially a story of wish-fulfillment. Our hero Eragon is fifteen, but in short order he finds himself with his own personal dragon, l337 magic skillz, an epic fate, a few prophecies, a gorgeous elven love interest, and everyone in the world looking to him as some kind of savior. Characters who question that he's the coolest dude since Michael Jackson in Smooth Criminal . Are universally shown to be stupid, corrupt, or men of poor dental hygene. He not only succeeds at anything he attempts--he is The Best. Since his world is largely irrelgious, the common people look to him as some kind of water-fat Maud'dib.

It gets worse as the books go on. Eragon gains pretensions to wisdom, but what comes out of his mouth sounds like an 8th-grader who got his hands on an introductory philosophy textbook and read it in one Red Bull fuelled binge. He becomes vegitarian (well, until he remembers how sheerly delicious cows taste) and an avowed atheist--the elves, his perfect role models, are all like Woodstock hippies. Eragon's appearance even changes to look like an elf, and despite the fact that he's a human teenager, his romance with a centuries-old elven princess develops smoothly.

For some reason, I imagine Eragon as looking exactly like Paolini himself, sans glasses. I don't think that's an unreasonable assumption. Eragon has "wish-fulfillment" written all over it in red sharpie (or at least my copy does). The usual term for such characters--those who exist primarily to channel that author's own fantasies and dreams--are often referred to as Mary Sues or Gary Stus. Hence, the title of this post.

See, I think many great stories have been told of heroic farmboys who make good--from the original Star Wars trilogy to Dune to the Chronicles of Prydain to my current favorite series, the Codex Alera. The thing is, when those characters have greatness thrust upon them, it doesn't make all their dreams come true--life and the challenges facing them get exponentially harder, not easier, and they have to sweat and bleed for every victory. Women don't simply fall into their laps while gold accumulates in their coffers. Embracing their destiny brings pain and struggle--a cross, if you will--not just glory and praise from all sides.

Frankly, I think this is true to life, and is a common element of nearly all great stories of heroism. Heroism must come with suffering for it to be truly heroic.

(NOTE: There may be a second part! Depending on my whimsy!)