I write in the tradition of Allegory

Writing in the Tradition of Allegory

This post is about why my language can feel heavy, the worlds I have built are symbolic, and why my characters journey through places that hold meaning beyond their surface.

The answer is simple: I want to write fantasy that has serious meaning, and so allegorical fantasy has become my home. I have trained myself to read books with real depth, and that has shaped how I write.

I do not usually read just for entertainment, though sometimes I do. I am a slow reader. I like to stop, pause, and think about what I am reading. I visualise scenes. I listen to the rhythm of the words. I ask myself, What is the point? What is the author doing here?
To me, every story I read is more than a story; sometimes it is a window, sometimes a mirror, sometimes even a warning. This instinct has been moulded by writers who have influenced me over the years.

Dante’s Divine Comedy, for example, does not encourage the reader to rush—the journey is slow so that we can see what is happening and why. Every image carries meaning. Every encounter reveals something about the soul, judgment, and grace. Reading Dante one Canto at a time, slowly, teaches patience. It shows that a journey through a landscape can also be a journey into truth. We may not agree with Dante on everything, but that is not the point. The point is that he uses poetic allegory to tell a deeply meaningful story. This is what I seek to do. 

Similarly, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress presents spiritual realities in plain sight, through roads that are walked, cities, companions, and trials that readers can recognise. The theology is visible, but it is carried through a journey of perseverance under pressure. That idea has massively shaped me. We all struggle, but the question is: who do we look to in the struggle? 

Then there is Dickens, especially Great Expectations. Dickens fills his stories with moral weight that hits the conscience. His characters are not just people; they are shaped by guilt, hope, pride, shame, and longing. Pip, for instance, is treated as a burden when he should have been cared for, and his sister is often harsh and ruthless. Dickens showed me that stories rooted in conscience feel alive, and that such stories are not only worth reading, but are worth writing. His character dialogue is worthy of serious attention.

I have also spent many hours in the worlds of C. S. Lewis and Tolkien. Lewis wrote symbolically without confusing the reader. Tolkien wrote with depth; his worlds feel ancient because they are built on belief, sacrifice, and the cost of evil. Neither of them treated fantasy as mere escapism, but as a way of seeing reality more clearly. Tolkien’s world-building, in particular, is at a master level. I could mention many more, even Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, but my point is: not everything I read is allegory, yet all of it teaches me how to write with depth. 

These influences have shaped how I think when I write and how I physically write. I think visually. My characters are shaped by conscience, and I use imagery informed by biblical truth. Meaning is not added afterwards; it is woven into the stories I write, in the choices my characters make, and in the consequences they face. That is why my writing and allegory can feel cinematic and very deliberate. I am not trying to impress. I want to immerse the reader in a world that asks them to slow down, to walk, to listen, to notice truth and untruth, and then pause to ask what it means.

The world we live in moves way too quickly. As a slow, contemplative person, I am drawn to writing deep meaning. I often think the culture we live in seems shallow; to me it wants instant answers and constant distraction. We scroll endlessly, and we rarely stop to reflect. My stories ask the reader to slow down. 

When done well, allegory does more than entertain; it invites. It allows readers to see struggles such as confusion, pride, despair, and false comfort not as just simple ideas, but as parts of a real journey. Maybe this is why I cannot write quickly or lightly, because I think deeply. The tradition I am writing in is slow, deliberate, and concerned with truth more than speed, and it suits who I am well. Allegory values reflection over entertainment. I do not claim to stand among the great writers, but no one owns allegory; it is not the possession of one writer, one time period or a single tradition. It has been used in stories for hundreds of years in many different ways. I write in the same tradition, using stories to explore meaning, using image and symbolism to carry truth, trusting that a well-told journey in story form can speak to a person's heart. Stories like these are not meant to distract us from reality. They are meant to help us see it better.  Of course, someone could read my book and not immediately see the true meaning beneath the surface. Allegory does not force people to see the deeper meaning; it actually invites them to notice what is there when they slow down. 

And ultimately, I want my stories to point to God.

Written by Daniel J.York