Professional wrestling, sports entertainment, male soap opera, grapps, rasslin'. Well, now you can add the title of magical realism to the list of names for the sport we all love.

Today I was sitting through the second day of my college Literature and Humanities class, ready to be thoroughly bored to death. Last night I read most of a 30-page handout the professor gave to us, and it wasn't exactly the best thing I ever read. Well, we got into class today and were told to write for 10 minutes about what the handouts taught us about magical realism. This is where class got interesting.

I started making connections. My beliefs were completely affirmed and supported by the discussion. When we finished writing, the prof asked the class to help him come up with an adequate definition of magical realism. Well, starting the list was the "suspension of disbelief." Hmm, where have I heard that before? Ah yes, I've read it in Rick Scaia's Online Onslaught dozens (and dozens) of times.

The class went on with the different aspects of magical realism. There's the connection of opposing elements. You and I know this as the everyday interaction and dealings between the faces and the heels. We decided that magical realism tells about the real world. Well, I think the same could be said for wrestling. At its roots, wrestling is just the ongoing battle between good and evil. All the wars we fight are exactly the same thing. We're right, they're wrong, correct? Then there's the international significance of the genre. Unlike other forms of writing that only have regional and national importance, magical realism touches on foreign lands. Wrestling is no different, as we see the likes of Juventud Guerrera, Alex Wright, Yoshihiro Tajiri, and Brakkus all the time (well, maybe not that much of Brakkus).

In magical realism, the extraordinary becomes ordinary. This has been seen in wrestling for about the past 15 years. There are characters like the undead Undertaker that are impervious to pain or the mysterious Warrior that can confuse and mystify us with their actions (and words). Or how about the eighth and ninth Wonders of the World, Andre the Giant and Chyna, respectively? You won't see people like this walking around on the streets, but they are commonplace in the wrestling business. When's the last time you heard of someone losing his voicebox and being nearly burned to death, only to fight the adversity and become a 300-pound monster that can somehow speak?

Then there's the cultural significance of items in magical realism. It is hard to put this idea into words, but it is the type of thing you believe could be true just because it is unknown to you. For example, some people believe cats have magical or enchanting powers because they look so mysterious. And how would they know for certain either way? They are neither cats nor scientists. The same thing applies with foreign people and cultures. In wrestling, we might believe Papa Shango's voodoo did make the Ultimate Warrior vomit on national television because, hey, he's from Parts Unknown, and those Parts Unknownians can do stuff like that. Tatanka's win streak seemed somewhat believable because he might have been getting the strength for his mid-match comebacks from his powerful Native American gods or ancestors. It was a mystery to us, so we couldn't discount it. Connected to this is the idea that the subjects of the plot in magical realism should be something or someone that is unexplained. The ideology of positivism - everything that is possible should be explainable via science - should be avoided in most cases. If there were a logical, scientific explanation for the Undertaker, would we care? Probably not.

The next item we went over is something the smarts on the Internet have been accused of not adhering to when it comes to watching wrestling. We should not over-analyze. When you read a magical realist novel, you should hesitate when you see something odd, but you shouldn't over-analyze. With wrestling, it is the same way. A storyline may not seem plausible, but for the sake of the show and our enjoyment, we should quit over-analyzing it all and just enjoy. If we want to be anal about it, we can do that AFTER the show is over.

Magical realism is noted for its ability to blur the lines between reality and the imaginary. Sometimes this happens with the plot behind a wresting feud. Take, for example, the Chris Benoit/Kevin Sullivan feud. Benoit stole Sullivan's wife, thus causing a feud in the ring. Not too long later, pretty much the same thing happened in real life, thus causing Sullivan to try to de-push Benoit. Something similar is playing out right now with Diamond Dallas Page and Buff Bagwell. It has become obvious now that their backstage altercation was just a case of "working the smarts," but for awhile, the line between real and imaginary was quite blurred. Or how about even the infamous Montreal Screwjob? To this day, there are still people that debate that the whole thing was just a work. If it was, it was a damn good one, but the point is that no one can be sure.

If class was longer, we probably would have come up with more aspects of magical realism, and I'm sure some of them would have fit wrestling too. Needless to say, I actually stayed awake in class today! And lucky for me, the whole semester will be dealing with magical realism. Maybe I can think about wrestling while the professor is talking about Charles de Lint. Fun! Anyways, feel free to email me and tell me that I'm a babbling idiot or that I might actually know what I'm talking about. I appreciate all feedback. Until next time..