Thinking about dragons a lot.

Thinking about dragons a lot. I’m almost done re-reading the Pern books; I’m on the last one, and there are things I like about it, but Gigi, book 25 is TOO LATE to try to make “Pie” and “Noll” convincing nicknames. Also, Pie makes me want berry pies.

But this is about dragons, not pies. I was thinking about the differences between McCaffrey dragons and Martin dragons. (And thanks to Lori and Kev for letting me natter on at them about it this week.)

***

McCaffrey’s dragons are essentially characterized like horses or dogs. (Not cats!) They don’t have the mystical edge of Lackey’s Valdemar horses, but there are some similarities nonetheless. They’re deeply good by nature (her dragons would NEVER flame a human, and only fight each other very rarely, when overwhelmed by mating frenzy). They adore their human partner, they willingly charge off into battle against Thread, risking their health and lives to protect the humans.

McCaffrey’s dragonriders are people chosen because they’re inherently good in a similar way — they’re characterized like firefighters, the sort of people who run INTO a fire, to save lives. They have their own human frailties, jealousies, etc. But when it comes down to it, almost all of them are completely committed to the cause, and somehow, telepathically, with the help of powerful alien genetic engineering, the baby dragonets can identify those people and bond with them. To get a McCaffrey dragon, you have to be worthy of one, on a character level. You have to be willing to die for your community.

(As a teenager, I loved that. Actually, I still do.)

***

And then there’s Martin. George’s dragons are monstrous beasts, immensely powerful, and as far as I can tell, completely amoral. (Just finished watching the first season of House of the Dragon last night. I haven’t read the book, so if there’s anything I don’t know about his dragons that shows up later in the book, please feel free to tell me.)

The only thing his dragons seem to care about is their bonded human partner, and there’s a religious overlay — or at least potentially one. There’s something about the ‘blood of the Targaryens’ that lets them bond with and ride / control dragons, and the folk of Westeros take that as a sign of divine favor. The dragons are like gods, and the humans they choose are god-favored.

I’m pretty sure George isn’t religious at all (from conversations with him), and is more interested in the way religious beliefs interact with human politics and history, than in exploring anything actually mystical. But there does definitely seem to be a chosen bloodline (which I’d prefer not to use for MY dragons, as I kind of hate Chosen One narratives). And once you have a dragon, well, you have a hell of a lot of power, and you can use it to kill a hell of a lot of people, and then you use it to gain and maintain power.

***

I think my own dragon preferences are likely to lean more toward Le Guin’s dragons in Earthsea — sentient, wise, only vaguely concerned with humans? Sort of Ent-ish? (Maybe I need to re-read Earthsea, it’s been a while. Oh, poor me, needing to read more LeGuin for my JOB.) No bonding, as such.

Inviting further dragon thoughts. Significant dragon cultural formulations in particular.

*****

Picture of a makara / sea dragon. Question — I’m seeing them characterized as Hindu, but they appear on both Hindu and Buddhist temples, and I’m wondering if it’s fair to characterize them as folk mythology of the region. (I haven’t gotten to figuring out what, if anything, I want to do with religion in this book.)

“Makara appears as the vahana (vehicle) of the river goddess Ganga, Narmada, and of the god of the ocean, Varuna.[2] Makara are considered guardians of gateways and thresholds, protecting throne rooms as well as entryways to temples; it is the most commonly recurring creature in Hindu and Buddhist temple iconography, and also frequently appears as a gargoyle or as a spout attached to a natural spring.” – Wikipedia

. I’m almost done re-reading the Pern books; I’m on the last one, and there are things I like about it, but Gigi, book 25 is TOO LATE to try to make “Pie” and “Noll” convincing nicknames. Also, Pie makes me want berry pies.

But this is about dragons, not pies. I was thinking about the differences between McCaffrey dragons and Martin dragons. (And thanks to Lori and Kev for letting me natter on at them about it this week.)


McCaffrey’s dragons are essentially characterized like horses or dogs. (Not cats!) They don’t have the mystical edge of Lackey’s Valdemar horses, but there are some similarities nonetheless. They’re deeply good by nature (her dragons would NEVER flame a human, and only fight each other very rarely, when overwhelmed by mating frenzy). They adore their human partner, they willingly charge off into battle against Thread, risking their health and lives to protect the humans.

McCaffrey’s dragonriders are people chosen because they’re inherently good in a similar way — they’re characterized like firefighters, the sort of people who run INTO a fire, to save lives. They have their own human frailties, jealousies, etc. But when it comes down to it, almost all of them are completely committed to the cause, and somehow, telepathically, with the help of powerful alien genetic engineering, the baby dragonets can identify those people and bond with them. To get a McCaffrey dragon, you have to be worthy of one, on a character level. You have to be willing to die for your community.

(As a teenager, I loved that. Actually, I still do.)


And then there’s Martin. George’s dragons are monstrous beasts, immensely powerful, and as far as I can tell, completely amoral. (Just finished watching the first season of House of the Dragon last night. I haven’t read the book, so if there’s anything I don’t know about his dragons that shows up later in the book, please feel free to tell me.)

The only thing his dragons seem to care about is their bonded human partner, and there’s a religious overlay — or at least potentially one. There’s something about the ‘blood of the Targaryens’ that lets them bond with and ride / control dragons, and the folk of Westeros take that as a sign of divine favor. The dragons are like gods, and the humans they choose are god-favored.

I’m pretty sure George isn’t religious at all (from conversations with him), and is more interested in the way religious beliefs interact with human politics and history, than in exploring anything actually mystical. But there does definitely seem to be a chosen bloodline (which I’d prefer not to use for MY dragons, as I kind of hate Chosen One narratives). And once you have a dragon, well, you have a hell of a lot of power, and you can use it to kill a hell of a lot of people, and then you use it to gain and maintain power.


I think my own dragon preferences are likely to lean more toward Le Guin’s dragons in Earthsea — sentient, wise, only vaguely concerned with humans? Sort of Ent-ish? (Maybe I need to re-read Earthsea, it’s been a while. Oh, poor me, needing to read more LeGuin for my JOB.) No bonding, as such.

Inviting further dragon thoughts. Significant dragon cultural formulations in particular.


Picture of a makara / sea dragon. Question — I’m seeing them characterized as Hindu, but they appear on both Hindu and Buddhist temples, and I’m wondering if it’s fair to characterize them as folk mythology of the region. (I haven’t gotten to figuring out what, if anything, I want to do with religion in this book.)

“Makara appears as the vahana (vehicle) of the river goddess Ganga, Narmada, and of the god of the ocean, Varuna.[2] Makara are considered guardians of gateways and thresholds, protecting throne rooms as well as entryways to temples; it is the most commonly recurring creature in Hindu and Buddhist temple iconography, and also frequently appears as a gargoyle or as a spout attached to a natural spring.” – Wikipedia

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