As I discussed in the last post, Un Lun Dun is characterized by a child-like sense of play. This is not just limited to casting everyday
objects in a newly bizarre and pun-filled light, but extends to elements more
central to storytelling. The novel sets
up the expectation that Zanna is the “Shwazzy,” UnLondon’s version of the
Chosen One, destined to save the UnCity from the sentient Smog. There is a whole talking book of prophecies
revolving around her chosen-ness, to guide her through the apparently many
steps it will take to defeat the Smog.
And then, when she has begun to accept her role as the
Shwazzy, she falls completely out of that role, and returns to normalcy. It falls to her friend, who has until now
been stuck very firmly in a supporting role, to step forward and safe both
UnLondon and London.
I have to say I enjoyed how much this novel subverts the
normal hero narrative. Zanna does not
fall off the hero’s path in any of the normal spots. She’s already been made aware of her special
status, and started to answer the call to action, (yes, I will admit, I have
read Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With A
Thousand Faces). At this point, the expectation is, she will be the hero we follow through the
rest of the narrative. And then, perhaps
because the UnLondoner’s were a little too reliant on the truth of the prophecy,
she is struck almost completely from the narrative.
The fate of UnLondon then falls to Deeba, the supporting
character, who is defined as the “funny one” within the talking book. Deeba
sees the vacuum left by a missing, prophesied champion, and shoulders her way
into that role.
She encounters resistance though. She either cannot be the hero because she is
the wrong person, or she must follow Zanna’s path in its entirety even though
it has already been proven false by Zanna’s defeat. The book itself is particularly unwilling to
let go of the prophecies contained within its pages, for to find some
validation for the prophecies would be to validate itself.
It would be so easy, after Deeba steps into the role of
hero, to let the narrative resume the same steps but just with a replacement
savior. However, the narrative firmly
resists that. Deeba is constantly
reminded that she is not the Shwazzy,
nor does she want to be. In order to fulfill the role of the Shwazzy, she would
have to completely an complex series of quests that would more than use up the
time she can spend in UnLondon and hope to be able to go home and still be
remembered. Instead, she uses what
information she can from the ruins of the Shwazzy prophecies, and improvises on
the fly. Deeba realizes that the seven items she is supposed to retrieve are interlocking quests worthy of any
video game run around, so instead, she skips to straight the end, trusting that when
there she will think of something to
make up for the fact that she has not done what the Shwazzy should have.
Out of all this, she starts to earn the title of UnChosen
One. I enjoy how the unhero narrative I’ve
been describing suddenly is given a title that makes sense within the abcity.
Perhaps the Shwazzy narrative was too tradition for it to ever stand a chance
in such a topsy-turvy world. There is
something satisfying about the way it all starts fitting together towards the
end, but no sooner.
Playing with the stages of the hero narrative like Un Lun Dun reveals both how prevalent
those structures are in narratives and how ridged they are. Dear reader, I would guess that you would not
have to read books about the structures of the fairy tale, or play many video
games, to know when a book like this one is suddenly doing it wrong.
Its valuable to be made aware of how much we rely on those mostly
invisible structures to guide us through our reading, but it is also worthwhile
to have them brought to light every once in a while and examined. And, if it happens to be a weird light, all
the better.
I shall leave you with that, dear reader. Enjoy your day.
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