Writing as Resistance: Why Fantasy Is Inherently Political

“Fantasy is escapism, yes — but sometimes what we most need to escape is silence.”

When I first started writing fantasy, I wanted to escape. I craved worlds that were nothing like mine, places untouched by politics, fear, injustice, or grief. I wanted dragons, not discourse. Magic, not metaphor.

But the deeper I went into worldbuilding, the harder it became to avoid the real world sneaking in. Suddenly, my empires had oppressive hierarchies. My rebel heroines fought for autonomy. My villains wanted control of knowledge, history, identity. Sound familiar?

It hit me like a bolt of chaotic plot twist: writing fantasy is never apolitical. And that’s a good thing. Because fantasy is where we get to reimagine what power looks like, who gets to wield it, and what happens when people rise up to challenge it.

🛡️ Worldbuilding Is Ideological

Every time we create a world, we choose what’s normal. Who holds power? Who gets silenced? What values are held sacred, and which are considered dangerous?

These aren’t neutral choices. They’re reflections of our beliefs — conscious or not. Even deciding to avoid politics in your story is a political decision, because it upholds the idea that comfort and neutrality are more valuable than justice and disruption.

When we build societies, we make choices about gender roles, social classes, racial hierarchies, religion, access to magic, and more. Even something as simple as, “Only noble blood can perform magic,” says something big. About elitism. About birthright. About who is allowed to be powerful.

And look, I’m not saying every fantasy story needs to be a manifesto. But I am saying we should know what messages we’re baking into our fictional worlds — because readers are smart, and they’ll find them whether we mean to or not.

🔥 Heroes Are Born in Resistance

Let’s be real: most fantasy protagonists are rebels. They’re underdogs fighting empires, chosen ones tearing down corrupt rulers, or survivors escaping cruel systems.

Why? Because resistance is the heartbeat of a good story.

Readers want to root for someone who’s been underestimated, mistreated, or marginalised. They want to see them rise, fight back, and win. Whether it’s Katniss in Panem, Zélie in Orīsha, Aelin in Adarlan, or your scrappy little witch girl in a haunted forest, resistance is baked into the genre.

It doesn’t always have to be big and loud. Sometimes resistance looks like surviving. Choosing kindness in a cruel world. Keeping a secret language alive. Saying no.

And sometimes? It is big and loud. Blowing up palaces. Dismantling bloodlines. Rewriting the rules of magic.

And when we write characters who challenge the status quo, we’re not just creating tension. We’re making a statement: change is not only possible — it’s necessary.

🧙 Magic as Metaphor

One of my favourite things about fantasy is how sneaky it can be. You think you’re reading about dragons and curses, but really you’re unpacking generational trauma, systemic oppression, grief, or identity.

Fantasy lets us talk about heavy, hard things in metaphorical ways. A cursed bloodline becomes a metaphor for generational trauma. A kingdom ruled by immortal elites becomes a critique of class division. A girl who discovers forbidden magic is a symbol for queer awakening, or bodily autonomy, or intellectual freedom.

I mean, let’s not pretend The Hunger Games wasn’t about capitalism, or that The Poppy War wasn’t steeped in colonialism and war crimes. Even ACOTAR dipped its wings into PTSD, abuse, and recovery — all under the veil of pretty dresses and sexy fae.

We tell truths through spells and swords. And in doing so, we sometimes reach readers who aren’t ready to hear those truths any other way.

💥 Escapism Doesn’t Mean Apathy

Yes, fantasy is a place to dream, breathe, and step away from reality. But it’s also where we ask the big, burning questions: what is power? Who deserves freedom? What does hope look like after loss?

Sometimes, fantasy is the only place where we can imagine justice. Because in the real world, injustice feels so damn permanent. But in fantasy? A farm girl can kill a god. A bastard prince can take the throne. A librarian can start a revolution.

So don’t let anyone tell you fantasy is just fluff. Escapism isn’t the opposite of activism. Sometimes it’s the first step.

So write your dragons. Build your empires. Let your swords gleam and your magic sparkle. But don’t be afraid to let your anger, your grief, your fire seep into the ink. Because when we create fantasy, we don’t just escape the world — we shape the one we want to live in.

Fantasy is political not because it waves a flag, but because it dares to imagine better systems, fairer futures, and heroes who burn down what isn’t working. And as writers? That’s one of the most powerful forms of resistance we have.