NOTE: The following is a revised version of an article originally published on Medium, where I’ve published a number of writing advice pieces.

In fantasy fiction, the Chosen One trope is a mainstay. It has informed some of the greatest fantasy narratives of all time. Unfortunately, it is also regularly trotted out in a raft of inferior imitators, usually to largely indifferent effect. Is it time to retire this cliché, or can new life be breathed into it?

Fantasy is a genre I’ve recently started to delve into as a writer, and so far, I’ve avoided Chosen One-type narratives. But would I always avoid them? It depends on one simple question: Can I come up with a variation on this trope compelling enough to warrant writing?

Frankly, to my mind, that ought to be the only consideration. The Chosen One cliché may be one to avoid in general, but if a writer comes up with a genuinely original spin on the idea, I’d always encourage them to go ahead and write it. I’d feel the same way about any clichéd scenario, and I’ll come back to why at the end.

Origins of the Chosen One trope

It is interesting to trace the Chosen One trope back through history. Some assume its origins lie in the tale of Jesus Christ, but there are Chosen One narratives in even more ancient texts, including Greek mythology, and the Old Testament. For example, in Greek mythology, Perseus, Theseus, Hercules, and Jason are all Chosen Ones, of a kind.

In the book of Exodus, Moses is a Chosen One, delivering the Israelites out of slavery into the Promised Land. In the books of Samuel, David is another Chosen One, selected by the prophet Samuel to be King of Israel. Regarding the latter, I’d even argue the story of David was the inspiration for yet another great Chosen One story: The legends of King Arthur.

King Arthur and King David

Whether Arthur existed has long been the subject of scholarly speculation. However, the various fictional accounts of his exploits — in particular, Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur — resembles the David story in a number of remarkable ways. Here are a few examples.

Saul and Uther Pendragon are both assisted and then abandoned by the prophet Samuel and the wizard Merlin respectively. The anointing of David the shepherd boy (at the expense of his older brothers) is strangely akin to the moment Arthur pulls the sword from the stone, when outwardly obvious candidates could not. David and Arthur are both taken under the wing of Samuel/Merlin.

David’s early battles with the Philistines and ascension to the throne are akin to the battles Arthur faces to unite his kingdom. In both cases, a golden age is ushered in, in Jerusalem and Camelot. In addition, Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table are akin to David’s Mighty Men of Valour.

At the height of both golden ages, an act of adultery shatters the idyll. In the case of King David, he commits adultery with Bathsheba. In Arthur’s case, he is innocent (though some versions of the story have him duped into sleeping with his half-sister, thus creating Mordred), but his wife Guinevere has an affair with the knight Lancelot.

Samuel and Merlin both die or disappear from the story, only to return from the dead at a key moment. David and Arthur both wind up fighting battles against vengeful sons, Absalom and Mordred respectively. Both kingdoms also suffer when plague and famine strike the land. Both stories feature artefacts of immense power: The Ark of the Covenant in the Bible; Excalibur and the Holy Grail in the Arthur legends. These items bring blessing and protection to the land.

Obviously, there are some points of divergence, but the similarities are so clear that I can’t help wondering if Malory and others didn’t look to the Bible for their storytelling inspiration, or to otherwise embellish Dark Ages history (assuming there was a real Arthur, Merlin, Camelot, etc). And even if they didn’t, the parallel is still fascinating.

Regarding more modern iterations of the Chosen One story, here are seven examples where the trope played out in memorable, resonant, unique fashion. As with the Greek myths, biblical stories, and Arthurian legends, these stories have multi-generational appeal. They continue to inspire the imaginations of millions around the world.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (CS Lewis)

In this, my favourite of the Narnia series, CS Lewis introduces the concept of children from our universe entering a universe of talking animals. A prophecy states the coming of four “sons of Adam and daughters of Eve” will herald the overthrow of the evil White Witch. Under her spell, in Narnia, it is always winter but never Christmas. Can you imagine anything more miserable?

Needless to say, this enchanting, endearing tale is a children’s classic with good reason. Lewis’s use of Chosen One themes are a potent addition to his (very blatant) Christian allegories. Let’s face it: What child wouldn’t want to rule a kingdom of talking animals?

The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien)

Tolkien’s masterpiece includes two Chosen One stories, one more subtle than the other. Frodo isn’t written as a hobbit from some great noble lineage. He’s an everyman character who happens upon the Ring of Power, and it becomes his burden by default to destroy it. However, via the wizard Gandalf, Tolkien suggests forces other than the will of evil are at work in making sure the Ring ends up in Frodo’s hand. On top of that, the Christlike imagery of Frodo staggering up Mount Doom, bearing the weight of the Ring as though it were the sins of the world, adds to the overall feeling of this being a Chosen One narrative.

On the other hand, the story of Aragorn is a much more traditional Chosen One tale, running parallel with Frodo’s story. He is directly descended from the ancient Kings of Numenor and has the rightful claim on the throne of Gondor. Multiple incidents throughout the story prove his Chosen One credentials beyond all doubt, such as the summoning of the Army of the Dead.

Between Frodo and Aragorn, Tolkien weaves a masterful tale of the traditional and the unexpected, when it comes to Chosen One tropes. It may be high fantasy, but it is also deeply relatable, as a tale about courage, friendship, loyalty, sacrifice, growing up, and the melancholy sense of loss at the end of an era. Not everyone is destined to be the King of Gondor, but anyone can be chosen to save the world.

Dune (Frank Herbert)

Fantasy’s cousin science fiction also uses Chosen One tropes. In the case of Dune, Hebert intended his epic story of far-future feudal intrigue and the fight to control a space travel enabling spice to be a damning critique of Messiah figures. As such, Dune is justified in using the Chosen One trope because it deliberately inverts them. The ascension of Paul Atreides to “Kwisatz Haderach” — a Chosen One destined to lead desert people the Fremen to freedom from Imperialist oppression — is meant to have Lawrence of Arrakis — sorry, Lawrence of Arabia — overtones.

The fascinating ironies of the Dune narrative make this a Chosen One story like no other. It transpires the Fremen prophecy of a saviour has been deliberately implanted by the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, who are secretly manipulating bloodlines to produce a superbeing they hope to control. Paul is the result of this manipulation, but rather than allowing himself to be controlled, he decides to genuinely liberate the Fremen, even though he foresees a catastrophic interplanetary jihadist bloodbath as a consequence.

The original Star Wars trilogy (George Lucas)

As discussed elsewhere, I’ve always considered Star Wars fantasy rather than science fiction. For the purposes of this article, I’m sticking to the original trilogy of films, ie Star Wars (no one from my generation calls it A New Hope), The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi. The inferior prequels unnecessarily muddied the waters by clumsily trying to make Darth Vader fit a more literal Chosen One narrative. This choice was ultimately undone by the final film in the sequel trilogy in any case, so I’m just focusing on the original three.

The Chosen One here is obviously Luke Skywalker. Though technically, it could have been his “safely anonymous” twin sister if necessary (“There is another” as Yoda famously stated). Why is he the Chosen One? Not because of any prophecy. Simply by default, as there are no other Jedi. The Emperor knows the offspring of Anakin Skywalker are a huge potential threat, as the Force runs strong in the Skywalker line. This puts a near unbearable burden on Luke, as he grapples with temptation to join the dark side, and the famous secret at the heart of the Star Wars saga. For this reason, Star Wars remains one of the great Chosen One narratives, even though the words Chosen One are not once used in the original trilogy. Obi-Wan simply tells Luke he is “their only hope”.

The Matrix (The Wachowskis)

Another outstanding science fiction Chosen One tale. What makes The Matrix unique in its execution of Chosen One tropes is the setting. The virtual reality scenario depicted here provides a mind-boggling techno-spirituality exercise that encompasses ideas of reincarnation, as well as Judeo-Christian underpinnings (a kind of postmodern Pilgrim’s Progress with Christ allegory overtones, if you like). The story can be interpreted in many other ways too, including as a transgender metaphor.

This kind of multiple applicability gives freedom to the viewer to take the film at whatever level they please. But whatever level it is taken at, it remains an outstanding piece of iconic cinema. I’ve never much cared for the sequels, but Neo’s character arc in the original film is a fantastic use of Chosen One themes and ideas.

The Harry Potter series (JK Rowling)

The Harry Potter novels are a remarkable achievement for many reasons, not least of which is Rowling’s ability to weave in a clever spin on the Chosen One narrative within her ongoing school story/adventure mystery magical mashups. In his attempt to exterminate the child prophesied to bring about his downfall, Dark Lord Voldemort ensures his downfall will come. This is true both at the very start and very end of the saga, and adds a lovely layer of irony to proceedings.

For convoluted reasons, Neville Longbottom could also have been the Chosen One. However, beyond this Rowling adheres to fairly traditional Judeo-Christian ideas in her exploration of this theme. What makes it special isn’t so much what she does but how she does it. Rowling’s clever misdirection and sublime use of red herrings throughout the entire saga constantly keeps the reader guessing. As such, she more than earns her right to use the Chosen One trope.

His Dark Materials trilogy (Philip Pullman)

This remarkable trilogy contains a particularly interesting use of the Chosen One trope, in that protagonist Lyra — a girl living on a parallel Earth who later crosses into our world and several others — isn’t really on a quest to fulfil a great destiny. She isn’t mentored in any traditional way. In fact, she’s barely aware of the prophecies from witches and various others that state she is destined to be the new Eve and bring about the fall of the “Authority”. Her actions aren’t based on any self-conscious Chosen One type actions, as other characters state, she has to be left to discover what to do for herself.

Pullman’s iconoclastic masterpiece ruffled a few feathers among religious groups, though to my mind they misunderstood the nature of the narrative. This isn’t so much anti-God as anti-organised religion, anti-authoritarian, anti-corruption, and anti-ignorance. Pullman leaves enough of the mystery unanswered (especially concerning the enigmatic Dust) to allow for unseen divine influence, despite his own agnosticism. At any rate, His Dark Materials is sublimely different in its deployment of Chosen One tropes amid a non-Judeo-Christian worldview.

Conclusion: An aside on clichés and offence

Clichés exist for a reason, but at present one can find a lot of essays online sermonising that they should be avoided at all costs, especially if they are considered offensive. Some claim certain Chosen One tropes are offensive, for a variety of reasons (white saviour narratives, elitist or Imperialist views on lineage, and so forth). I sympathise, but only to a point, and have written elsewhere about when I think it is appropriate to risk offence. An alarming number of people in modern western culture seem unable to appreciate the difference between depicting something and endorsing something. Frankly, I don’t believe authors should encourage such censorial thought by tiptoeing around it.

I am inherently suspicious of any authoritarian demand that a particular cliché be an automatic red line. There may be noble intent behind such a prohibition, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Ultimately, I believe an author’s first duty is to write what is dramatically correct, not what is politically correct. Furthermore, readers often take great comfort in cliché. This is particularly true in genre fiction, and as such, I’d argue it is the writer’s job in genre fiction to give the reader what they want, though not the way they expect.

In the past, I’ve heard people claim that as writers we have some kind of moral duty to educate and elevate readers out of their love of cliché for the supposed betterment of the human race. Personally, I don’t believe in patronising fiction readers. They will smell a sermon a mile away, roll their eyes, and read something else. Again, I’ve written elsewhere about why I believe consciously inserting any kind of “message” into fiction is a mistake. What is important to any author will be inherent in the text in any case, and therefore far more potent. Deliberate preachiness is something I recommend avoiding like the plague.

The bottom line? If you come up with a really great, unique, exciting, dramatic, thought-provoking, or even satirical take on the Chosen One trope, please write it. I’d love to read it.