I got into an interesting discussion today with my brother-in-law about science fiction & fantasy, specifically about whether explaining something too much takes away from the sense of wonder that is so critical to those genres. It started out with a discussion of Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace, which (surprisingly) he actually kind of likes, and eventually got on to Brandon Sanderson’s first law of magic.
I was trying to explain why The Phantom Menace was so broken, and after hemming and hawing over various things came to the midichlorians. That, more than anything else, threw me out of the story. By explaining the Force in such a banal, insipid way, it undid all the magic of the previous trilogy and completely sterilized it. There was no sense of wonder after that point–explaining the Force completely killed it, just like over-explaining any magic system always kills that sense of wonder.
… or does it? Because there are quite a few wonder-inducing magic systems that get explained in great detail. Take the Philotic Web, for example. In Xenocide, Orson Scott Card explains, in great detail, how the physics behind the ansible system works. And yet, by doing so, he increases that sense of wonder to the point where Xenocide is one of my favorite of his books. Why? Because it introduces a bunch of implications that lead to even more questions, more mysteries.
With The Phantom Menace, of course, that isn’t the case–the midichlorian thing is basically a clumsy ass pull that fails in the magic department just as hard as Jar-Jar Binks does at comic relief. But it doesn’t fail because it over-explains things, it fails because it explains the magic in a way that doesn’t allow room to explore the implications. As much as I hate to admit it, Lucas could have pulled off the midichlorian thing if the implications had been relevant to more things in the story than just a simple plot point.
This is where Sanderson’s first law comes in. Basically, Sanderson’s first law states that there’s an inverse relationship to how well the magic can induce wonder versus how well the magic can advance the plot. In order to advance the plot through magic, you have to explain how the magic works to some degree, and that’s going to take away from the sense of wonder.
But as we’ve just shown, that isn’t always the case. Sometimes the sense of wonder gets even stronger the more the magic gets explained. This is especially true in science fiction that follows the one big lie approach, where one thing (wormholes, reactionless drives, time travel) is truly fantastic and everything else more or less follows the laws of physics as we understand them; in order to maintain the suspension of disbelief, the story is basically forced to explore all the implications of the magic, often to great detail.
In other words, explaining the magic isn’t always like building a wall–sometimes, it’s like building a door. Yes, it lays down a boundary that closes off the imaginative spaciousness that a story really needs to convey that sense of wonder, but if the explanation leads to new questions–new mysteries–then that sense of wonder can be maintained. Instead of walling the reader in, it throws the reader into a maze with countless secret chambers to explore.
The relationship between plot-based magic and wonder-based magic is not linear, as Brandon Sanderson’s first law implies. Rather, there’s a second dimension that has very little to do with his law, and learning how to traverse that dimension is key to maintaining the sense of wonder in any story.
I haven’t figured out a pithy way to explain all this yet, but I’m going to, hopefully within the next few days. If you guys have any thoughts on the subject, please feel free to share. I’m definitely interested in hearing your perspectives on it.



