I just finished re-reading The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien, the precursor to the well-known Lord of the Rings trilogy. The Hobbit is an interesting book, filled with elves, goblins, trolls, dwarves, eagles, one huge dragon named Smaug, and of course, the hero of the story, the one and only hobbit, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. It is what I would call an adventure novel. The dwarves take Mr. Baggins on a great trip into the mountains to recover the gold and jewels stolen from the dwarves and elves by Smaug, and in the process they run across all sorts of obstacles and difficulties. The entire trip takes more than a year, and results in the precious materials being recovered, and Mr. Baggins finally is able to return home. Published first in 1937, it’s been a popular read since then. But what about the book makes it an adventure novel?
Several things make a novel or story or movie an adventure. The dictionary defines adventure as “an undertaking … involving danger and unknown risks,” or “an exciting or remarkable experience.” That’s the nutshell version, but what actually constitutes an adventure, especially as it applies to writing a story that is an adventure? I give below my take on the word, and you may agree or disagree, but I think one thing is clear: there has got to be a trip. (As I was about to begin writing this post, the movie Around the World in Eighty Days came on TV; that’s another great adventure.) First, there must be a main character (MC), or if you like, the hero. Generally, this is one person, and the story revolves around him/her. And most importantly, the main character must go on a trip. He/She must leave home. This is vitally important—there cannot be an adventure sitting in one’s backyard watching football on TV. The manner in which the character leaves home can be physically, or mentally, in a dream, or by magic, or transported by genie, or by faster-than-light spaceship or by time travel, or by some other wild means that takes him/her to a place absolutely foreign in experience or understanding. The MC may go alone, as Ishmael does in Moby Dick (another good adventure), or, as in the case of Bilbo Baggins, with others. (Phileas Fogg goes only with his servant, Passepartout.) But the MC has to go somewhere—away from home, away from comfortable surroundings, away from the humdrum, away from friends and family, away from all the MC holds dear. The MC may be pushed, cajoled, forced, or go willingly, even passionately, but has to leave. However, the MC cannot go as a requirement of his/her job. For this reason, I hesitate to place the Apollo missions to the moon as great adventures. Great stories, yes, especially Apollo 8 and Apollo 13, but adventures, no. The astronauts were doing their job and being paid for it. (Not that they took the trips lightly, certainly not, but having it as one’s paid occupation minimizes the trip as an adventure.) An adventure, by contrast, takes a person away from the usual and throws them into a wildly different situation that, frequently, is foreign to their usual life.
Second, there must be good reason for this trip. Just going on a trip for the sake of the trip doesn’t make a good adventure. There must be an achievable goal, such as the recovery of precious items that belong to the MC or someone close to him/her, or the finding of some nugget of truth or family history that changes the life of the MC. I’m sure there are as many reasons for someone to go on an adventure as there are adventures to be had.
Third, the MC must run up against obstacles, preferably extremely dangerous and even life-threatening obstacles, which risk preventing the MC from completing his/her task. The obstacles Baggins and the dwarves encounter are quite well presented by Tolkien: elves, goblins, a huge shape-shifting bear, great spiders, as well as Smaug the dragon. The exact number of obstacles a MC must overcome is subject to interpretation, but I would say that a good adventure story must put at least three obstacles in the path of the MC. More would be good, maybe even better, but the number would depend on the nature of the adventure.
Fourth, the MC must negotiate all the obstacles thrown in his/her path, reach the intended goal, and return home, or at least to a safe starting point. Getting fried somewhere along the way would deflate the story completely. The MC is the hero of the story, and the hero always succeeds. At least in fiction.
Fifth, the MC must be changed in some way as a result of his/her adventure. Physically, mentally, emotionally, whatever, but there must be a change to one degree or another. For example, when Phileas Fogg returns from his travel around the world, his experiences have left him considerably humbled; formerly a confirmed bachelor he actually gets married, and he gets rid of all the clocks by which he ran his life literally to the second. Bilbo Baggins returns to find the others in the town where he lived have sold all his personal possessions, and though he doesn’t seem changed too much outwardly (I believe he lost a little weight), the adventure has left him much more aware of how home is so important to the life of a hobbit.
This post is longer than most, but I wanted to explore the subject in some detail. I’ve given a few great adventure stories as examples, and there are a huge number of other examples out there. I’m sure you can list many, many more. So many more.