Today’s
guest post is encapsulated in the title below. Enjoy!
Literacy
and orality in Dragonflight: The Dragonriders of Pern
“When
is a legend a legend? Why is a myth a myth? How old and disused must fact be
for it to be relegated to the category “fairy-tale”? And why do certain facts
remain incontrovertible while others lose their validity to assume a shabby,
unstable character?”
So
begins Dragonflight, the first book in the Anne McCaffery’s classic
SF&F series The Dragonriders of Pern, which I finally read for the
first time.
To
the questions above, the first words in the book’s Introduction, I would add—“What
roles do literacy or orality play in determining whether these legends are handed
down as myth or fact? Whether traditions are upheld or discarded? Whether
knowledge is kept or lost?
The
premise of Pern is that it is a planet colonized by people from Earth, but this
was so long ago that the people of Pern no longer remember their origins. Though
they must have had advanced technology, they have now reverted to a feudal
society, with lords and holds and guilds and slaves.
What
they do remember, because they still have them, is that their squad or company of
dragon-creatures and riders are supposed to protect them from something called
Threads, dangerous outpourings from another planet which occur whenever that
planet comes too close in orbit (usually every 200 years or so) and which, if
allowed to fall to the ground, would render it barren and unable to support
human life. The idea is that the dragons breathe fire and scorch the Threads
before they reach the ground.
However—and
here’s where the question of myth and fact comes in—the Threads have not fallen
for over 400 years, and not just the lords of Pern, but even some dragonriders
themselves have begun to question whether they truly did exist at all.
Where
literacy and orality come in, is Pern is an interesting society that has kept
both written records (on animal hide, so the very old pieces are starting to
harden and become illegible), as well as a strong oral tradition (with harpers responsible
for learning, writing and singing songs, and through them, transmitting
knowledge to the next generation).
New
dragonriders learn their roles and responsibilities via special Teaching Songs,
which they must memorize, along with other things like Disaster Sagas and Laws—they
must be able to write these down, word-perfect, many times. So the passing of
knowledge is largely oral, though assisted by literacy. It seems that in
reverting to a quasi-feudal system, the oral culture that goes with it has also
overshadowed any literate culture.
At
the same time, the Weyrleader, the dragonriders’ captain, has access to
archives which he uses to predict when the next Threads will fall, and where. With
the secrets of the Threads as well as belief in their coming lost from living
memory, he turns to the written records to learn the ways of his ancestors. From
them, he is able to glean fact and detail that convince him that the threat is
real.
When
he needs help and ideas, he searches the Records to discover methods that could
help defeat the Threads, given his limited resources—the Weyr is in decline due
to internal issues as well as lack of support from a now unbelieving public—or
rather, their lords—who no longer send the traditional tithe to the dragonhold.
(The lords behave, in fact, like today’s
anti-vaxxers, who have forgotten the horrors of children dying from disease and
decide that they no longer need these defences.)
Outside
the insular Weyr, the importance of the dragonriders’ role and the threat of
the Threads is being lost, as memories fade and the lords prohibit harpers from
singing the old ballads of the dragonriders’ heroic deeds, so that they (the
lords) can shirk their responsibilities. Duties such as ensuring there is no
green grass close to human habitations are forsaken, as the reasons behind
these traditions become obscure. The oral culture here is paramount, and when
the songs are no longer sung, the populace begins to forget.
At
the same time, it seems like knowledge is still being passed down in word and
deed not just in the Weyr, but also in the guilds—the weavers, smiths, and
others have also kept written records, which they can consult. Visual literacy
is also relevant: in the absence of written texts, a tapestry serves as a vital
historical document. The ability to sketch images to serve as visual references
turns out to be very important as well.
In
Dragonflight, it seems that losses of oral transmission (harpers’ songs,
safety practices, use of some tools) has led to the disbelief and discarding of
tradition, while written knowledge is preserved and provides vital clues. The
written record is also patchy—some things were not recorded, and so that
knowledge was lost to time—but what is available serves as a basis for belief,
and action.
At
the same time, there are still many who have heard the old songs, some who
believe the ballads as historical fact, a few who continue to hold to the old
doctrines. The knowledge is, in fact, being passed down via the oral tradition,
and the truth is preserved there for those who can interpret it.
In
that sense, both orality and literacy have a role to play in ensuring the
defence of Pern. The Weyrleader, a true believer in an age when many of his
fellow warrior-clergy have lost faith, clings to the written word and to
the ballads, both to recorded fact and transmitted wisdom.
He
needs both of these to discharge his responsibilities, and finds that he also
needs to adapt what he learns to his situation—not become as “hide-bound” as
his predecessor, who clung to the oral tradition but did not believe. He finds
he needs to be flexible, discard some old traditions, honour even older ones,
and come up with new ideas. He lays aside unhelpful practices, explores new possibilities
(mostly thanks to his female colleague, the Weyrwoman), analyzes data—in short,
begins the road back to a more scientific, more literate way of thinking.
In
short, I quite enjoyed the first installment of The Dragonriders of Pern.
The world and ideas are compelling, and you can see McCaffrey’s influence on
many newer works like Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon (Temeraire)
series and the movie series How to train your dragon. The prose is not
very elegant—after a gripping first half, I started to notice the extra adverbs
and somewhat amateurish language. It is also a product of its time, with
archaic gender tropes, although the main protagonist is a “strong female
character”. Still, overall, it is a fascinating story (mostly) well-told, and I
understand why it is considered a classic. It was also probably ahead of its
time in terms of being a “crossover” work (though perhaps this was common
then), with fantasy woven into the matrix of science fiction. It also proves
that you can put dragons into any genre, and make it work! 😊
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