Labour with Purpose in The Tea Dragon Society

While our modern world continues to make work into a dehumanizing experience, The Tea Dragon Society envisions a unique (and uniquely charming) philosophy of labour as a potentially soul-enriching (rather than just wallet-enriching) experience. #teadragonsociety 1/14

In The Instinct of Workmanship and the State of the Industrial Arts, famed economist and sociologist Thorstein Veblen argues that craftmanship (or ‘workmanship’ in his terminology) is a fundamental source of humans’ sense of well-being and purpose. 2/14

“These native proclivities alone make anything worth while, and out of their working emerge not only the purpose and efficiency of life, but its substantial pleasures and pains as well.” Veblen essentially argues that our sense of self comes from our service to the community, including material aspects. 3/14

Despite surface appearances, Veblen’s views were staunchly anti-capitalistic. He believed that work could be (and should be) a spiritual experience. O’Neill’s graphic narrative, meanwhile, presents a pastoral fantasy to a modern audience accustomed to viewing work as purely financial. 4/14

Like Veblen, O’Neill presents a world that places emphasis on the journey, rather than any crude financial outputs. We see this in 3 key instances: blacksmiths who love their craft, monster bounty hunters who find love along the trail; and dragon-keepers who find appreciation for life. 5/14

Our main protagonist, Greta, is an apprentice blacksmith who learns to respect both her craft and the ways in which it serves her community; that the things she makes are more than objects. They possess both a past legacy (connecting her to her mother) and future use (connecting her to her community). 6/14

In the finale of the story (pre-epilogue), Greta declares the appreciation she’s cultivated for craftmanship: “I don’t want blacksmithing to be forgotten. I want to keep making objects for people to love and give them a story….” 7/14

“…maybe one day, someone’ll think about who gave it to them or where they bought it. Or who they shared it with. Or who owned it long ago. That’s a kind of magic, isn’t it?” Her mother responds “I believe it is.” to close out the chapter. 8/14

Greta’s other apprenticeship is to Hesekiel, with whom Greta (and her friend Minette) learn the ancient art of caring for Tea Dragons. When Hesekiel offers her a dragon, he warns her of the responsibility. She replies: “I want to. I want to make good memories with all of you. And with Ginseng too.” 9/14

Prior to this, Hesekiel laments that “People seem to live at a different pace now. Tea Dragon tea is a wonderful thing, but it takes a long time to make. Back when everything took longer to make perhaps that didn’t matter. Sadly, the art is fading.” This is O’Neill’s most direct critique of modernism. 10/14

Along the way, we also learn that Erik and Hesekiel met through bounty-hunting monsters – a financial partnership that blossomed into a meaningful relationship. Once Erik becomes disabled from injuries, the job is gone, but as Hesekiel informs him: “It was never the adventure that I loved.” 11/14

Each of these 3 crafts orbits a key relational element. Greta can honor her mother by learning and appreciating her mother’s craft. Hesekiel and Erik bond with each other and form a lifelong relationship through monster-hunting. Greta and Minette learn to appreciate nature through dragon-care. 12/14

Each character finds fundamental sources of fulfilment accessed through craftsmanship, through labour. There is, additionally, the broader achievement of serving a community and pursuing self-betterment through education and diligent application. 13/14

It’s an old philosophy, and one that might be anti-capitalist in nature, but The Tea Dragon Society shows a modern audience of young readers who are stuck hurdling toward a gig economy, that labour can be something humanizing, rather than dehumanizing, and that’s a bold take in the 21st century. 14/14