This is the second part of a two-part blog post wherein we discuss the merits of author-created monsters versus the monsters of tradition and culture. If you have not read the first part, I highly recommend that you do so before continuing on. For the sake of being at least a little controversial–since it is largely evident that both new and old monsters have their own, unique merits–I adopted a tripartite perspective where I asserted that
- Original and adopted creatures differ almost entirely in their purpose and execution when they are done well.
- When an author attempts to mix elements innate to one group within the other it CAN cause problems for the reader.
- Mixing those elements works best when the reader’s understanding of the creature’s inspiration or name is low.
I spoke about the first bullet point in the first part of this series and will now elucidate the second and third. Allow me to refresh readers on the positive elements of each group so that their potential pitfalls are better highlighted as well.
Generally speaking, traditional monsters carry certain expectations with them. Because of those expectations, readers do not need to wonder what a specific creature is because the generalities are known. A dragon, for example, carries the idea of being a fire-breathing, flying reptile of considerable size. While the author may choose to deviate from that, it is unlikely that a dragon in a novel would lack all the traits which are generally associated with a dragon from tradition. Readers may also gravitate toward books with specific monsters, especially if they follow certain prescribed tropes.
Invented monsters do not need to bend to any expectations except those that the author creates for them. The creator can theoretically use any kind of animal or monster as a base and then warp characteristics at will without worrying about readers being offended that the creature doesn’t align with their preconceived notions. This also means that the writer can build suspense when it comes to creatures no one has seen. If all you know about a monster is that it is ferocious and hard to kill, the reader can only imagine what form such a thing might take.
Why would mixing the elements innate to each cause potential problems? Let me give a couple examples. Let’s say that I want to create a monster called a Kallavis. The Kallavis is a ferocious creature, only awake at night. It appears human but actually feeds on them, draining them of blood. It cannot handle the power of sunlight and shows an aversion to holy symbols. It also has a certain seductive allure, despite being mostly undead. Now, to any discerning reader, the Kallavis will immediately be identifiable as a vampire. In fact, it’s a blatant copy. So much so that if I try to pass off a Kallavis as a completely original monster, that readers will likely be either amused or annoyed. In a more extreme case, a reader might even find it to be an act of deliberate plagiarism. After all, naming a creature a “vampire” and using its traits without altering them at least references the source material innately. For that reason, using all the traditional tropes of a mythical or legendary creature while changing the name would be problematic IF it is not done intentionally and with proper care.
On the other hand, imagine that I have a griffin in my story. After mentioning it a few times I then go on to describe it as a large, flightless insect covered with horns and highly venomous. It walks on two legs and spews acid from its mandibles. Also, it has slug eyes. Now, for the people who know what a griffin is supposed to be, they will be disappointed. Essentially, I, as a writer, have set up an implied promise with my readers and completely broken it. The likely consequence will be anger, disappointment, and confusion. Why bother using a creature’s name when it bears no likeness to it whatsoever? It is unnecessarily subversive to readers’ expectations. This, too, can be used to positive effect when utilized with the awareness of the subversion in the hand of a skilled writer.
This leads me to my third point, which is that the degree to which a reader will dislike the use of the tropes of one with the implementation of the other is proportional to their understanding and recognition. In the case of the invented monster that closely resembles a traditional monster, the less known the source material is the easier it is to use without offending sensibilities. For example, if I named something a liraneech, and claim it enters a person’s mouth near rivers when they’re sleeping and consumes one half of the energy they absorb from their food, then that would be unlikely to offend someone even though it originates from the alp-luachra. Most have never heard of the latter creature and so it would seem to merely be a clever construct. Now, I would say that making it identical and only changing the name is still wrong. That said, if key aspects are different (for example, if the liraneech resembles a small squid instead of a newt) then it makes it clear that the original monster was merely inspiration and not merely intellectual theft. For the example of a traditional monster that is warped in highly original ways, I will use George R. R. Martin’s use of the term “manticore” in his Song of Ice and Fire series. Within that series the creature is actually closer to a scorpion than to the traditional monster. Despite that, it will probably not offend anyone simply because it still maintains certain traits which are close to the original monster. Both have highly venomous scorpion tails and humanoid faces. This is similar enough to at least act as a reference to the original creature. Since the manticore is a generally lesser-known monster–and only rarely used in fantasy–there would be little backlash over its use while perhaps inspiring others to look up the traditional monster and appreciate the similarities and differences.
One final word on this topic before closing out this blog entry. As with all things, writers are free to break these rules as they please. In the hands of a skilled author one can use either a mythical creature or an invented monster to great effect and implement changes to each without evoking ire from the majority of readers. In general, though, a good writer will know to avoid these pitfalls. Taking a monster’s traits completely and renaming it is theft, and taking something traditionally beloved and trying to make it utterly different because you think you can do it better than those who came before is called Hollywood.
In conclusion…
