For fantasy is true, of course. It isn’t factual, but it is true. Children know that. Adults know it, too, and that is precisely why many of them are afraid of fantasy. They know that its truth challenges, even threatens, all that is false, all that is phony, unnecessary, and trivial in the life they have let themselves be forced into living. They are afraid of dragons because they are afraid of freedom.
So I believe that we should trust our children. Normal children do not confuse reality and fantasy—they confuse them much less often than we adults do (as a certain great fantasist pointed out in a story called “The Emperor’s New Clothes”). Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren’t real, but they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books. All too often, that’s more than Mummy and Daddy know; for, in denying their childhood, the adults have denied half their knowledge, and are left with the sad, sterile little fact: “Unicorns aren’t real.” And that fact is one that never got anybody anywhere (except in the story “The Unicorn in the Garden,” by another great fantasist, in which it is shown that a devotion to the unreality of unicorns may get you straight into the loony bin). It is by such statements as “Once upon a time there was a dragon,” or “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit”—it is by such beautiful nonfacts that we fantastic human beings may arrive, in our peculiar fashion, at the truth.
Ursula K. LeGuin - Why are Americans Afraid of Dragons? (1974)
Und eine fantasievolle Reflexion über die (Un-)Vollzähligkeit der Sterne, denn
Beengung heißt auch, daß der Mensch mit sich allein auf diesem winzigen Weltkörper das Gefühl der Kontingenz nicht loswerden kann und sich von dem Anblick fremder Welten doch noch das ganz Unerwartete verspricht - und sei es das Versprechen, mit dem Leben müsse es nicht notwendig dahin kommen, wohin es mit ihm selbst gekommen ist. (Hans Blumenberg - Die Vollzähligkeit der Sterne, S. 119)
Mein sind die Jahre nicht die mir die Zeit genommen /
Mein sind die Jahre nicht / die etwa möchten kommen
Der Augenblick ist mein / und nehm' ich den in acht
So ist der mein / der Jahr und Ewigkeit gemacht.
