The Tension of the Magical and the Real

Magical realism is an inevitably paradoxical term. Thus the most obvious question to ask about it is also the most fraught: how far does it reveal or obscure reality? In the study of Latin American literature, critics have, historically, been divided broadly between those who see the magical or fantastic dimension as underlining the essentially fictional or unknowable nature of both literature and reality, and those who see the magical or fantastic as a means of opening up imaginative new perspectives on social or political reality.

There is no doubt that political readings of Latin American literature are now in the ascendancy, but they are often far from unproblematic. For example, the famous opening of the best-known magical-realist novel, Cien años de soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude, 1967), in which the father introduces his children to reading creatively and to the dazzling beauty of the most fabulous diamond on earth (actually the previously unknown substance, ice), could be read either as an incitement to freedom of thought or as the revelation of the unavoidable limitations of error-prone human understanding. Indeed, it has been argued that García Márquez's fantasy-laden allegorical approach to history creates a rich literary experience but a rather ineffective political commentary, whereas Isabel Allende's La casa de los espíritus (The House of the Spirits, 1982) – despite being derided as a pale imitation of the seminal Colombian novel – enjoys sharper political focus precisely because it systematically subverts the magical dimension in order to confront the reader with harsh reality.

Tensions in Literature for Children

Such debates about so-called magical-realist fiction are remarkably similar to critical concerns surrounding children's literature, and it is surprising that more has not been made of the links between magical realism and fiction for children. Conventional views of writing for children would draw attention to the centrality of fantasy and magic, yet equally allude to the long tradition of the instructional or even moralizing vein of such writing. Back in 1749, Sarah Fielding's Preface to The Governess or Little Female Academy told her young readers that once they grasp that ‘the true Use of Books is to make you wiser and better, you will then have both Profit and Pleasure from what you read’.