I got caught up with getting Lukomorye off the ground, and then the holidays, but now it's time to return to more theoretical perspectives on fantastic societies, and in particular, the series on situating adventuring heroes in such societies. In Part I, I reviewed two types of fantasy literature – the American variant, featuring “rugged” and independent frontier heroes, and the European variant, built around epic heroes who were embedded in their respective societies, and questing to reestablish social order in the face of general crisis. We noted that although the former exemplar is typically prioritized as the model for Fantasy Role Playing Games, the latter constitutes a second pole, and a vitally important impetus behind the popularity of the fantasy genre as well. Thus, although rejecting the social impact on the adventuring milieu has a long pedigree, taking it into account is also fully justified – if for no other reason, than because a good deal of fantasy literature does.
In Part II, I turn from fiction to examine the issue from
an historical angle. My concern here will be the emergence of the adventurer
as a social type. Beginning with the term’s origin, we immediately see its
emergence from a European, more socially-laden context.
Etymological
dictionaries suggest that the word adventure, which used to denote a chance
occurrence or miracle in both English and French, came to mean a risky or
exciting undertaking sometime in the course of the transition from the Middle Ages to Early Modernity. The verb form of the word now
began to refer to taking a chance, while the suffix “er” tacked onto the end of the
noun form signified, by the end of the 1400s, someone who was a gambler, mercenary,
or – note! – financial speculator. In other words, we have whole categories of
people rising in the Late Middle Ages who specialize in managing risk – the
kind of risk that, prior to that time was placed entirely within the purview of
Fortuna or divine powers, and therefore, was regarded as unmanageable
by definition. And right from the start, the positive connotations of the
adventurer as a daring thrill-seeker were bound up with disruptive ones – of
dishonesty in the service of pursuing personal gain at the expense of social
stability (still clear today in reference to the political adventurer). That person is necessarily an outsider with
no roots, abode, or moral code, who relies on violence, financial schemes, and
the majority's fear of insecurity – all definitive aspects of the early adventurer,
as we have just seen.
The conquistador - a classic prototype of the fantasy murderhobo |
But what is
significant about the period from the 14th to the 16th
century, when 'adventurer' as a term and social type emerged? It was the time of the Waning of the Middle Ages, when, in the wake of the Black Death,
the population of Europe precipitously declined, the Church lost a good deal of its
authority for failing to prevent it, and the class structure was shaken up by
the increased bargaining power of laborers, who were suddenly in great demand
across a depopulated continent. While the traditional class structure was
convulsed by these changes, interstitial institutions and groups, which were
somewhat marginal to the functioning of the old system dominated by the
landowning seigneurs and the Church, suddenly came to the fore. Towns, where
one went to ostensibly breath the free city air, expanded; long-distance trade,
banking, and a hunger for specie, initially stimulated by the Saxon-Bohemian silver boom, grew manifold; apocalyptic and charismatic religious sects,
heretofore checked by the Church monopoly, proliferated; poor countries like
Switzerland and Scotland specialized in the production of mercenaries; and
young, venturesome people from around Europe but with meager prospects of
upward mobility sought their fortunes on the high seas, especially with the
discovery of a new landmass across the Atlantic, and a maritime route to Asia
in the final years of the 15th century. The Humanist Renaissance that put down
roots toward the end of this period constituted a recovery of ancient
knowledge, a discovery (if initially tenuous) of the great civilizations of the non-European world, and the creation of networks of knowledge exchange that lay
outside the control of any one body. The resemblance of this highly mobilized,
monetized, commercialized, intellectually vibrant society that relentlessly
pushed out toward new frontiers to the stock settings of the fantasy genre
captured by D&D is no coincidence. The 14th century, when the
transition first got underway, but before the dramatic expansion of such
transformative technologies as gunpowder weapons and the printing press, is the
most commonly referenced technological framework for the game’s setting.
But it should
immediately be pointed out that the European transition, though certainly
dramatic from the long-term point of view, was a civilizational mutation rather than a civilizational collapse. There was no large-scale breakdown of
urban life, as during the collapse of the Western Roman Empire a millennium
earlier – in fact, quite the contrary. Key social
institutions, including the Church, the aristocracy, and the family survived
the transition, though their internal makeup and relations to other
institutions underwent important changes. One institution – the monarchy – grew
stronger – at least in some parts of
Europe. Other institutions, such as bonded labor, including both serfdom and
slavery, weakened in Western Europe, but strengthened in frontier areas in
Eastern and Mediterranean Europe, and then in the Americas for reasons that had
to do with those regions’ economic links with an emerging Western European
core. In other words, the emergence of the adventurer as a concept and a social
type took place in a world in which established social institutions, hierarchies, and discourses continued to play vital roles in motivating, limiting,
and variously shaping social behavior. Many people driven by the spirit of
adventure may have gone to the towns or to the frontier to escape social
controls or to seek their fortune, but in most cases, they invested their
fortune in cementing or bettering their social station within the established
hierarchy, or to replicate core social institutions in new environments.
Consider the example
of the conquistador, a worthy prototype of the fantasy RPG
adventurer. The quintessential conquistador originated within the hidalgos – the often economically insecure
and unruly Spanish gentry which had the right to own land and display their own
crest, but who were generally called upon to make their own way in the world if
they were to at least maintain their precarious social position. While
certainly enticed by the economic opportunities offered (to them) by the New
World, they were also driven by a collective national-religious élan. Many of
them, born into families that made their name during the ‘Reconquista’ of the
Iberian Peninsula from the Muslim Moors,. They were driven by a proselytizing zeal,
as well as a fierce loyalty to the now united dynasty of Castile and Aragon
that patronized them and endowed them with an identity. Conquest could be a tightly-knit
family enterprise: the two most famous conquistadors – Hernán Cortés, who
toppled the Aztec Empire, and Francisco Pizarro – the vanquisher of the Inca
Empire – were born a mere 40 miles apart in the Extremadura province, and were related
through Cortés’ mother. Once successful as conquerors, their overriding
concerns were not for further adventure, but gaining admittance into the high
nobility (i.e. becoming a don) – through
royal recognition, or through a successful marriage, for which they usually
returned home. Spain was where they had to be to ensure the crown granted them encomiendas in their new possessions,
recognized their heirs as legitimate, and provided them administrative positions, as well as additional funds. While he obsessed about cementing his material gains and upward mobility, his concern with the conversion of the conquered populations preoccupied
Cortés’ enough to be positively cited by Bartolomé de Las Casas – the closest
thing to a champion for indigenous people’s rights that that violent age possessed.
This was despite the fact that even after the conquest, Cortés’ could act as a
murderhobo worthy of the name – he was likely responsible for the cold-blooded
murders of Cuauhtémoc – the last Aztec ruler, and his first wife Catalina
Súarez, who needed to be out of the way so that Cortés’ could marry up.
Or consider another
example in another frontier region: the Ashkenazi Jewish diaspora in the united
Polish-Lithuanian monarchy in the 14th – 16th centuries.
Although not strictly speaking “adventurers”, this group constitutes a good
illustration of a minority group in a frontier region, characterized as
transitioning from a country of wood to a country of stone. The Ashkenazi
diaspora moved to Poland-Lithuania from Germany and other lands, drawn by relatively strong
and relatively secular rulers who sought to attract investment and expertise
from a relatively more developed land, and paid little attention to the
religious affiliation of those who brought money and know-how. The Jews, in
turn, were attracted by the liberal charters granted by the late Piast monarchs
that guaranteed them a degree of autonomy and freedom from persecution, as well
as economic opportunities, given the low level of competition and the weakness
of the Church – the main agent of driving them from Germany and the lands of Western
Europe. Yet the Jews had too much experience as an outgroup to fall into the
trap of easy assimilation into a rootless and multiethnic mass, and even if
they had wanted to, dominant elements in society ensured that they could not.
For the frontier lost its character as a frontier as soon as it became an
attractive destination for migrants. Even during the reign of tolerant rulers
such as Casimir the Great, Jews faced a backlash on the part of the Church and
economic competitors, which accused them of poisoning wells during the Black
Death, and various forms of blood libel and ritual murder of Christian youth,
resulting in reprisals and persecution. Liberal monarchs encouraged interaction
between Jews and Gentiles, and passed edicts stipulating punishment to those
who directed violence at Jews entering Christian domiciles. But they also
allowed the Ahkenazi diaspora to form into kehiloth
– self-governing communities, governed by rabbis and judges from within the
community, and overseen by a senior who served as the kahal’s interface with the king. Institutions gave the community
greater shape and self-awareness; but, combined with waves of persecution that
resulted in ghettoization. The community
reproduced itself through the establishment of near-universal primary education
(for males) and communal patronage of institutions of higher learning – the yeshivot. Though the character of this
education was largely religious, the best scholars nevertheless engaged in
debates that resonated with the larger world of newer knowledge. Some spoke in
favor of combining Judaism with Aristotelean philosophy; others, like Solomon Luria, dabbled in kabbalistic mysticism. Additionally, while they were generally allowed to enter into
local trades, industry, and even agriculture, Polish-Lithuanian Jews continued
their prominence along some long-distance trade routes – for instance, along
the Smolensk route to even more frontier-like Muscovy. Artisans, merchants,
money-changers and scholars could migrate or temporarily relocate to various
nodes along this route, and find support from relatives, business contacts, or
learned communities, or seek out eligible partners for marriage. This
strengthened the Jewish family. At the same time as Jewish communities gained
structure and autonomy, they became ever more dependent on the monarchs, and as
royal power weakened and Church power grew after the turn of the 17th
century so did the Jewish diaspora become increasingly isolated in Polish society.
But during its heyday, the Golden Age of Polish Jewry formed it into a distinct
diaspora because the frontier that was the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth
evolved along with it.
Ashkenazi migrations into the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth |
The preceding examples
bring into relief several features we can point to as perhaps definitive of
frontier social groups that may be overrepresented among the adventuring type
relative to the rest of society.
·
To be able
to take risks and gamble – as conquerors, proselytizers of a spreading
religion, seekers of profits or of new (or hidden) knowledge, people had to
have something they could gamble. This could mean a certain, relatively high
standing in society, the support of powerful rulers or institutions,
accumulated wealth or know-how, or strong social bonds (religious, ethnic) that
allowed communities to pull together and pool risk, allowing for a greater
chance of success.
·
Of course,
tough frontier regions are always replete with stories of the lone-wolf
desperadoes with nothing left to lose. Surely, such people existed, but their
lack of social bonds spoke to their relatively lower lack of success, which was
always measured against society at large. They were bandits camped out in
wooded hideouts, or petty criminals eking out a living on the city docks
(though the latter have some built-in advantage by virtue of being
urban-dwellers). There is nothing wrong with including such characters in
fantasy-historical campaigns, but they surely would generally be marginal
characters. The ones that truly aim for success rely on family networks, like
mafias (who, as we know from the Godfather films, always aim to “go legit” in
the longer run), or religious rebels, that rely on well-established precedents
to attract followers and build sects around themselves.
·
Given the
availability of social, economic or cultural capital which they can draw on to
take risks (i.e. “go on adventures”), most adventurers tend to be from
intermediate strata in their society. A quick look at the rundown of
backgrounds from 5th edition D&D bears this out. Adventurers
derive from middle strata with specialized skills (Guild Artisans, Merchants,
Soldiers, Sailors, Entertainers, Sages, Acolytes) that are engaged in struggles
to improve their social standing, and use their unique skills that the rest of
society lacks as trumps in the drive to emerge on top.
·
The
accumulation of wealth, power and prestige in fluid environments is of course
deeply resonant with accumulating experience points to increase power in the
context of the game. These same populations also tend to be mobile – they make
their living by moving from place to place, by seeking out distant buyers and
sellers of the goods and services they offer, willingness to take positions in
distant chapters (outposts, lodges, monasteries) or by tracking down lost
knowledge or objects, and exchange information within a far-flung network of
like-minded people).
·
The
palpable experience of upward mobility suggests that their principles will not
be uncritically borrowed from the established elites, but be shaped by their
own experiences. They will claim to prioritize merit and wit over birth, and regard
established strictures as arbitrary and unjust - obstacles in the
way of people living up to their true potential (or excuses used by the weak
not living up to their principles). Merit and success will be judged according
to simple and incomplete, yet difficult to challenge measures: amount of wealth
accumulated, land owned, fights won, converts gained. At the same time, this
obsessive quantification will also foster a realistic attitude toward the
powers that be: even if they are corrupt, they still hold the reins of power
and order, and have numbers (in monetary, military, and demographic terms) on their side.
·
Social
elites are explicitly represented in the game by only one background – the nobles.
Aristocrats generally have more mobility and more to gamble than the rest, and
do, but the struggles they are engaged in are somewhat different. They already
stand atop the social pyramid, and fight in order not to lose their place at
the apex. They contend with rivals conservatively, so that how they conduct
themselves is at least as important as what they actually do. Style tends to
outweigh technique, because if it was only about technique, the nobility would
be no different from other contending groups, and would lose their claims to
elite status.
· However, the games the nobility plays tend to be at the very center of civilization, for
all the marbles. Though this type of contest is certainly a very worthwhile
setting for a fantasy RPG, it is, as we have seen, atypical, because it takes
place far from the frontier. Usually, long-standing campaigns evolve in this
direction after the heroes have accumulated a sufficient degree of power (so
they can face off against the most powerful people in society, on their own
terms.
·
Alternatively,
noble characters can descend from impoverished families or be the proverbial
“second sons”, in which case, their social standing is little different from
the middle strata discussed above. Many will also hail from frontier clans that
were only yesterday on the wrong side of the frontier, and regarded as little
better than “monsters” themselves. Their prime imperative will be to preserve
their lineage at a time when their old, simpler and smaller world
has already disintegrated, and their options are to become part of the elite in a much
larger, more complex world, or to face oblivion. Given these pressures, they
will break with their old life decisively, and do what they must to destroy or
convert all those who do not recognize the new order. Paradoxically, they will
also retain a visceral or spiritual kinship with other “monsters”, in whom they will
see actual individuals, and not simply demonized “types”. In some ways, the
monsters’ outlook is closer to their own than that of the rulers they now work
for, and the temptation will always be there to "go native" and join the
“monsters”, or at least, to defend them.
·
Symbolic
elites, whether priestly or scholarly, can also offer vehicles of social
mobility. Initially, they will be more fluid with regard to orthodoxy, and
institutionally weak relative to experiment-friendly frontier rulers and
enterprising newcomers. With time, however, the frontier becomes the key locus
of symbolic struggle. Popular masses are mobilized by one side or another,
orthodoxies are defined, rivals are accused of being in league with demons,
crusades are called, and castes begin to form. Minority or losing sects become
ghettoized, and close in on themselves.
Jewish representatives (lower left-hand corner) attend a 1570 session of the Seim - the parliament of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth |
In Part III, we will shift focus and observe how more-or-less established society looks at the adventurer. While adventurers often regard themselves as heroes, most people will probably perceive them as murderhoboes properly so speaking, and negotiating this divergence is an important part of what the adventuring life is all about.
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