While the definition of “fantasy” varies, there’s one thing a reader can expect with this type of literature: magic. Whether that’s supernatural creatures, mythical gods, sorcery, or more, a reader is enchanted by the imaginary, by the promise of something extraordinary and otherworldly to experience. But apart from its alluring charm, I also believe magic has intrinsic value to the genre as a technique used in fantasy writing. It excels at propelling narrative, character development, world-building, and especially, theme development. With that in mind, I want to highlight some examples of magic’s thematic purpose in YA fantasy!
When talking about magic, it’s hard not to start with one of my favorite fantasy books, Howl’s Moving Castle. From the beginning, we’re told that teenage Sophie Hatter is the eldest daughter, and thus, according to fairy tale logic in Ingary, she’s destined to do nothing in life. Sophie submits to this idea and settles for apprenticing at her family’s hat shop, while her two sisters, one under the tutelage of a witch and the other succeeding at a bakery, pursue their dreams. However, it becomes apparent that, even if she doesn’t know it initially, Sophie has magic of her own: she can shape reality through her perception of it. For instance, when Sophie tells a hat it shall make its wearer irresistible, she unknowingly imbues life into the inanimate object, making a nobleman fall in love with the simple woman who bought it. In another situation, despite Sophie being cursed to be old by a witch, and another wizard’s efforts to remove this curse, she unconsciously continues to disguise herself as elderly with her power. While it showcases her complex desire for the freedom and confidence old age allows, it simultaneously exposes the deep-rooted insecurities that fuel Sophie’s magic. Since her negative perceptions of herself are stronger than any curse, it’s only when she embraces her inner power, her capability to live a great life for herself, that she breaks the curse. As her magical abilities parallel this coming-of-age theme, they effectively externalize her inner struggles with identity and self-confidence.
During middle school, one of the most magical books for me was Inkheart. Who hasn’t wished they could be transported into their favorite stories, or for their favorite characters to be brought to life from the page? Twelve-year-old Meggie Folchart’s father, Mo, a bookbinder by day, has this: the magical ability to bring fictional beings to life by reading their stories aloud. Even so, the gift has a steep price. In the past, when Mo read Inkheart, his wife, Meggie’s mother, was transported into the book, and the evil ruler of Inkheart, Capricorn, came out. As the boundaries of reality and fiction bend in the present, the adventure of Inkheart is brought once again to this family’s doorstep, and Meggie must harness her own reading magic to save her family. Consequently, the power of literature is a key theme in the story, and Funke uses the Folchart family’s magic to present this idea. Their words are nothing short of transformative, and it’s this imagination, the art of fiction, that gives life to our own world. However, the power also requires control, as shown by Meggie’s mother and the other innocent Inkheart characters Mo unwittingly brings into our world. The pen is mighty, and it’s up to its wielder to be responsible with language’s power and consequences.
Recently, I read and reviewed this book, and I thought its magic system—despite needing further development—had compelling connections to the themes at work. Zélie Adebola lives in a world where magic disappeared under the command of a cruel king and his genocide of the maji people. She lost her mother to this tragedy, a woman whose Reaper powers, connected to her faith in the clan’s sister goddess, Oya, allowed her to control the spirits of the dead. Still, magic has a chance to come back, and as the chosen one, Zélie promises to restore it to her people. As Zélie awakens her abilities in the process, it’s notable that her magic is identical to her late mother’s. On the one hand, her death magic embodies the idea of family that’s so integral to the story. It’s a connection she will always have with her mother and lineage, along with the complicated one with her faith. On the other hand, the death power that’s a part of her also signifies the sense of loss inseparable from her life under a tyrannical government. The theme of oppression, the loss of magic, demonstrates how prejudice and systemic violence can take away lives, power, and hope. Yet, the rebellion Zélie incites, and the nature of magic existing in her at all, is a necessary resistance. There’s a fight for empowerment, for justice, in Zélie’s quest, and Adeyemi uses the idea of magic’s return to drive the novel’s core motivations.
Ultimately, magic is versatile. In these examples, it can reflect a character’s maturing identity, the magic of literature in our reality, or even the rebellious power we have against social injustice. And all of these ideas are fundamental for an adolescent who’s growing into themselves and interacting with the world around them. While they find solace in the imaginative space fantasy literature provides, retaining their sense of wonder, magic also helps them recognize their inner strength and learn how to approach the real world. Admittedly, there are many other uses of magic in the YA fantasy genre that directly shape the stories for young readers, but I hope that, with the books I’ve supplied, I’ve given you a better appreciation for magic’s overall significance!
Danielle Hartshorn, Pine Reads Review Writer and Editor