On Telepathic Companions.

On Telepathic Companions

Standard Caveat: What I say may be highly opinionated, blah blah, everything can possibly be done so long as you can justify it, blah blah, think for yourself, blah blah, so on and so forth. Now that that’s out of the way, we can get down to some sort of work.

You’ve seen them. The cute animals who follow the protagonist around and talk like this into each others’ heads. The poor schlobb who gets assigned the task of fetching the cell keys which have been placed conveniently just out of reach of the hero, but within reach of the telepathic companion. The bit players who come on-screen, slavishly pander to the hero’s every whim, and then disappear when not needed like so many horses which vanish without a trace once the protagonists enter a town.

Yeah, them.

Done well, they can add life to a story and be as complex and individual a character as any other human. Sadly, almost all of the time they’re little more than satellite characters set to revolve around a particular idiot with the remote control. It’s very sad sometimes, because there’s so much wasted potential.

Since we’re all familiar with a certain individual and his flying blue disco ball, I suppose I’ll have to draw a number of examples from there, although good examples will have to come from somewhere else.

1. I’m not an animal, I’m really a human with some special powers and a very good disguise.

Once, I read a Far Side strip where a scientist invented a helmet that allowed him to talk to dogs. Interestingly enough, all they had to say was “yipe! Yipe! Yipe!” It was a cute cartoon, but it highlights a main problem of a lot of fantasy: the tendency to over-anthropomorphise animals, which again boils down to the general anthrocentricity of fantasy because, well, writers are human and think in human ways and forms. The language barrier between the scientist and the dogs had been removed, but still, the dogs couldn’t form words or ideas recognisable by the scientist. Which would make sense, even if we consider only how a dog’s senses work and how it perceives the world, compared to how humans perceive the world.

This I find interesting, because a lot of telepathic companions—be they wolves, horses, dragons, living rocks. They all seem to perceive the world the same way humans do, are intelligent enough to express their thoughts clearly in ways perfectly understandable by their human—well, I wouldn’t say companion. Perhaps “handler” would be more appropriate for most cases—and oddly enough, appear to adhere to the hero’s values and morals, which conveniently happen to coincide with modern western morals and values.

Uh, yeah. The so-called animal companions don’t have animalistic instincts, behaviours, or desires. Animals have intelligence, yes, but quantity notwithstanding, which is ofen explained away as being augmented thanks to the telepathic bond—do they think the way we do? Perceive events the way we do? Even more egregious is the way animals adopt human morals in the snap of a finger—when wild animals, even charismatic species, clearly don’t.

Rabbits eat their own young when starving; killer whales eat them even when not starving. Alpha females in wolf packs will harass lower-ranked females when they do in heat to prevent them from breeding. Bottle-nosed dolphins, those cute little guys in the aquarium which jump through hoops? They’re one of nature’s greatest misogynists—out in the wild, dolphin pods herd their females by ramming them with their beaks hard enough to cause serious injury. Roving gangs of males often kidnap females from other pods, kill any calves she may have to make her more receptive to mating, then proceed to gang-rape the abductee into submission before herding her into their pod.

And you ask me why I burst out laughing in the train while reading The Dolphins of Pern?

The point I’m making here is that if you want an animal companion, make it an animal companion, otherwise, just make the character a hominid sidekick with special powers. It’s a subset of the “physical affects the mental, social and spiritual” guideline I like to tote around.

2. If you’re going to make me sentient and intelligent enough to comprehend my worth as an individual and I am under no compulsion, I would like to be treated as an individual, too.

Which is one of the greatest annoyances which stems from telepathic companions in general. It’s a subset of the problem of satellite characters, characters who orbit around another character and are only defined in terms of their relationship with said character. A good indicator of this is when someone is referred as a possessive of someone else—for example, “Crono’s mom”. This is usually a-okay for very minor characters such as the random barmaid in scene #472A, because their appearances are so brief that it’s possible for me as a reader to give the author reasonable doubt and believe that they have their own inner lives separate from the character in question. However, with larger bit players (such as telepathic companions) who stick throughout a larger portion of the story, the verisimilitude quickly breaks down.

We’ll take an example from our favourite series to derive schadenfreude from—_Inheritance_. In the series, we are explicitly told that Eragon(er)’s relationship with Saphira is supposedly one of equals, yet throughout the series the relationship is clearly an unequal one, up to the point where it is explicitly stated by the author that Saphira’s concerns all revolve around Eragon and she is treated like a pet, up to and including Eragon throwing scraps of chicken for her to scrabble for—all for his own amusement. The few times she actually disagrees with him are either inconsequential in terms of the overall plot (meaning the disagreement could have been taken out, and it wouldn’t have required what little plot there was to change). She has absolutely no personality beyond what is required by the current scene.
Which is annoying. Even Pernese dragons, which are explicitly stated to be in an unequal relationship with their riders, have more of a personality than that (although admittedly, not much, especially as the series wore on).

Of course, this can always be justified—perhaps the telepathic companion’s species in the wild is a social animal, and needs to follow a clearly defined leader or alpha (although in this particular case, it would be interesting to see what happens when the reverse occurs. I’ve seen dogs which clearly thought they were the alpha of the household).

But most of the time, telepathic companions which are presented as possessing human intelligence, human emotions, human behaviour and human morals are treated as anything but human consistently by the actual human characters. This, of course, is made even more laughable if and when there is an Issue regarding discrimination being discussed anywhere in the novel.

People and creatures with enough intelligence and a sense of self-worth aren’t going to take being treated like a dumb animal lying down. Even the D&D 3.5 Draconomicon explicitly states that even if dragonets accept a member of another species as a mentor and parent figure, mistreatment almost always results in it running away at the first opportunity or attacking the mentor figure, directly or indirectly.

3. Only charismatic animals exist.

Do I even need to state this? Think back to the times when you’ve seen obnoxious animals talking into people’s heads. Cool dragons. Pretty white horses. Wolves. Dolphins. Lions and dogs and the occasional cat. Eagles, falcons, and other birds of prey. All of them, mythological or real, creatures that have a good reputation with western ideas. No one wants a buzzard, or a grey parrot, or a donkey, or any sort of insect. Because, you see, they aren’t cool enough to be made as a statement of one’s fashion sense and power.

Which boils down to the problem stated in point two—that telepathic companions aren’t treated as individuals even in supposedly equal relationships, but rather, extensions of another character. Because if you have a carrion bird (which actually is a vital part of many ecosystems) you are automatically an evil subhuman who lives as a parasite on sicety and benefits from others’ misfortune…

Yeah. I think you get my point.

4. All take and no give—why am I even with you in the first place?

Let’s start this point off with a lovely quote from Richard A. Knaak’s Warcraft novel Day of the Dragon, a book which is in my opinion, like all of Knaak’s other work, a steaming, festering pile of vomit. In the below excerpt, Falstad (a Wildhammer dwarf) has just pushed his gryphon to its limits following Neltharion, lost the bugger anyways, and they’re setting down to rest:

He rubbed the gryphon’s leonine mane. “But a good beast you are, and deserving of water and food!”

“I saw a stream nearby,” Vereesa offered. “It may have fish in it, too.”
“Then he’ll find it if he wants it.” Falstad removed the bridle and other gear from his mount. “And find it on his own.” He patted the gryphon on the rump and the beast leapt into the air, suddenly once more energetic now that his burdens had been taken from him.

“Is that wise?”

“My dear elven lady, fish don’t necessarily make a meal for one like him! Best to let him hunt on his own for something proper. He’ll come back when he’s satiated, and if anyone sees him…well, even Khaz Modan has some wild gryphons left.” When she did not look reassured, Falstad added, “He’ll only be gone for a short time. Just long enough for us to put together a meal for ourselves.”

And of course, my reaction on my LJ:

Ha. Ahahaha. Very funny. Very funny. And here, friends, is a cut-and-dried example of what NOT to do to any animal companions your characters may have; getting rid of them when you don’t need them. To address Opifex’s concerns—Warcraft gryphons may not have human-level intelligence to the point of sentience, but they’re portrayed as damn smart, being able to memorise long flight paths, extricate themselves from sticky situations and definitely have their own emotions.

But that’s not really the point I was trying to make. The Wildhammer dwarves are supposed to love and respect their gryphons, animals or not. If you own World of Warcraft, go to Aerie Peak as Alliance, do some of the quests there, and actually read the damn quest text—it shows how much the Wildhammer dwarves care for and respect their gryphon companions. To have Falstad treat his gryphon like…well…a damn plot device goes against previous characterisation of the Wildhamer dwarves’ culture. Then again, why am I surprised? Someone here has a lovely habit of mangling the lore, either out of wanting to make his own self-insert characters look good, or out of sheer laziness.

That aside, I wouldn’t even bloody do that even if it was just an animal. How many, say, horse owners wouldn’t lead their animals to drink and perhaps find a good grazing spot for them? Which dog or cat owner tells their pet “All right, great job slaving away for me, now go outside and get your own dinner”? Even if the gryphons are just animals, caring for your pet’s basic needs is one of the owner’s most important responsibilities, and this is just sick.

Why, I don’t like Rhonin, and encourage everyone I know who still plays to /spit at him every chance they get. Infantile? Perhaps, but damn, does it feel good. Back to the point, though—half the time the telepathic companions don’t even have half a reason to stick with people who neglect and mistreat them, and suffer stupid and crippling disabilities such as dying when the human dies. Like Eragon, who provides pretty much no practical benefit to Saphira. It’s annoying. At least try to come up with a reason, or flat-out admit that the relationship is parasitic.

Conclusion:

The problem telepathic companions isn’t a simple one—it has roots in the general anthrocentrism of fantasy, the problem of satellite characters, of putting things in merely because they are cool—I won’t deny that I have very high standards in this regard, if only because I’m a cynical, disillusioned bastard about this. The easiest solution is to treat the telepathic companion like any other character and raise him, her or it (depending on your preference) to the same level as anyone else, especially if the so-called bond is supposed to be the story’s gimmick.

To be honest, the only telepathic companion I’ve found who lives up to my standards is Loiosh, Taltos’ familiar in Steven Brust’s Taltos the Assassin novel series. Loiosh is the only, the ONLY Animal Companion in a supposedly equal relationship who:

*Has snarked at the human in a clever manner.

*Has shown lasting unhappiness at some of the decisions the human has made, and done something about it.

*Has said “no” to an outrageous demand made by the human.

*Has demanded time off for his honeymoon and to spend with his mate.

*Has actually had “thank you” said to it often by the human, and has had the human apologize to him for slights offered/being ignored/ being snapped at.

*Is a major player in the series as a whole, instead of being relegated to sidekick status or shoved out of view when not needed.

Ye gods, whenever I reread the books and compare them to some other “humans and his/her X” novels, it’s hard to wonder why is it so hard to treat characters as characters.

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