When one spends a great deal of their leisure time consuming genre fiction, particularly what I refer to as 'The Primary Genre Triad' of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror, one becomes accustomed to the presence and usage of various sorts of weapons in conflict sequences. These can range from anything as simple as a clenched fist to a plasma-based automatic rifle, to a venom-laced barb stinger whipping around from the amorphous rear section of some hellscape-born scorpion-thing with the head of a German Shepherd that speaks in tongues.
Each of the Triad styles tends to lend itself to a category of weapon within the confines of its various tales as a kind of stand-by. In sci-fi, energy based weapons that are similar to known, conventional weapons are the norm. For example, what is a lightsaber, at its core? It's a sword with a blade composed of focused energy. Blasters are not much different from standard firearms. And need I even get into photon torpedoes? The real world equivalent is in the term!
In horror, the weapon of choice depends on who is wielding it, and what kind of threat the antagonist is. If the threat is a beast or demonic/spirit, the hero will invariably get hold of a rather ineffective firearm that does no good. Said beast will possess either claws and brute strength, or a kind of telekinesis. If the threat is a mortal madman, the protagonist will either inexplicably have no weapon, lose it, or be disarmed, while the maniac relies on a signature but mundane instrument of violence that causes both psychological as well as physical damage.
Fantasy hosts perhaps the widest variety of available angles of attack in the Triad, depending chiefly upon the sub-type of fantasy. In 'low magic' medieval fantasy, conventional swords, axes, spears and bows tend to be our bread and butter. In these tales, any magic that is present tends to be powerful in ways that defy description, and the cost of such magic is higher than the wielder is usually aware. In 'urban' fantasy, wherein the workings of faerie or wizards and witches and demons is not public knowledge, but is integral to the plot and character arcs, readers and viewers are treated to a blend of technological, mechanical, and magically fantastical combat solutions.
For the remainder of this piece, I'd like to examine and demonstrate how three different weapons can be vastly different, with only one element changed- the genre in which they are presented.
Weapon 1- Knife/Blade
Ah, the humble knife. Usually used as a culinary tool or for completing simple tasks, the potential of the knife in genre fiction depends largely on the skill level of the person wielding it. In sci-fi, the knife is typically reserved as a weapon of last resort, and will be roundly ignored by a merc or bounty hunter sort if they have a blaster or energy trap of some sort on hand. Even then, it is more often than not in the hands of either an assassin sort, or a character without the means to purchase energy based weapons.
In the works of Greg Bear, Orson Scott Card, and Annalee Newitz, the knife is barely featured in battle scenarios. However, as demonstrated in Bear's works, when a knife does see use, it is brief, and almost always fatal. This is down almost entirely to the fact that when Bear's Soldier Archetype characters do have a knife, it's showcased to imply their familiarity and skill with the weapon.
However, the actual damage and details, as with other sci-fi authors' works, is usually minimal, blunted.
In fantasy genre works, such as those of Jim Butcher, Stephen R Donaldson, and Brent Weeks, the knife is, once more, usually given its efficacy by the one wielding it. In Butcher's Dresden novels, the titular Dresden is far more skilled with his rod, a blunted weapon, but he can use a knife if pressed. Some of his colleagues, however, are downright terrifying with one in hand. Weeks's 'Night Angel' series focuses on a 'wet boy', a superior assassin, so, he's gruesomely skilled with one, and the details of his kills demonstrate that clearly. As for the Covenant novels, those characters who utilize knives in combat usually find themselves with no remaining option for a primary weapon, and tend to be flailing with enemies in tight quarters.
Weapon 2- The Firearm/Bow
Typically, one is not going to find firearms to be present in medieval fantasy works, given the low-tech nature of the worldbuilding elements of the narratives. However, the bow often serves as a stand-in, and there tends to be a range of presentations. Skilled archers are portrayed as calm, cool and collected, with an abundance of training, efficiency and reserve. Against standard foes and beasts, the bow is frequently shown to be a great ranged choice, though it is not uncommon to indicate that the weapon is no good in tight quarters combat.
In horror, the most common representation is either the semiautomatic pistol, or the traditional double barreled shotgun. Depending upon the nature of the story's antagonist forces, we as readers or viewers are treated to one of two polar opposite effects; either the gun has a negligible effect, basically doing nothing to the creature or spirit, or the result is an explosion of gore, the acrid sting of burnt gunpowder, and the catharsis of the critter or zombie being reduced to a fine, chunky mist. If the protagonist wielding the weapon is trained and skilled with it, they seldom miss their mark, but the common civilian opening fire could well miss, reducing their limited and precious supply of ammunition.
For sci-fi aficionados, battle usually comes in one of three varieties- ship vs ship, fleet vs fleet, and mano-a-mano. The firearm of choice, either a pistol or rifle adjusted for energy ammo and portrayal, is a clean kill weapon more often than not. Sure, the abject destruction of an entire ship is a jarring thing, dozens or hundreds of lives lost, but there is often a kind of cleanliness to it all. It's presented in a sterile manner, and this is no accident, I suspect. Science fiction often is futurist in its perspective, and I believe that even the most conflict-minded storyteller dreads thinking that in the realm of speculative futurism, the human race will still be bent on destroying its own members. Hence, they tend to sanitize the whole thing.
Weapon 3- Magic/Speculative Tech
And now, we come at last to the third example of a weapon type and how different its presentation is across the Triad. Genre fiction is a wild, weird and wonderful playground to work in, limited only by the imagination and narrative skill set of the storyteller themselves. Of course, some writers are more esoteric than others, and that will reflect in the construction of the tale, but no singular approach is 'better', per se, than any other. Each has its own unique flaws and benefits.
We'll start by looking at science fiction and its high-concept tech weaponry. In ship-to-ship battles, readers/viewers are often treated to parallels of modern naval weaponry, so we have a reasonable expectation of what the results of those assaults are going to be. Personal weapons, however, frequently surprise the audience. For example, a rifle which fires a burst of sonic energy that immobilizes its target, or a toxin that is actually a simple saline solution filled with nanobots that systematically destroy the cells of the intended victim. In Netflix's 'Black Mirror', in an episode serving as a cautionary tale about the abuses of tech and social media, artificial bees used to support global pollination efforts are redirected to bore through the brains of targeted persons.
In horror, if and when there is magic or supernatural powers at play, they are typically wielded by the antagonist. Hyperstrength, telekinesis, pyrokinetics, or the throwing of lightning-like power, these techniques can render protagonists heavily damaged, mildly inconvenienced, or deader than a doornail. The amount of gore left behind the use of these powers tends to be a direct reflection of the deadliness of their wielders. Additionally, there is rarely a defense against these powers, and they tend to only target a singular person.
For fantasy, finally, we have a plethora of spells, rituals and cantrips, many of which are used for purposes beyond the immediacy of personal combat. One of my favorite examples of this is in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels, the Polyjuice Potion used to disguise users are other persons. The side effect Hermoine suffers, morphing feline outward traits because of stray cat hairs on a girl's sweater, is positively brilliant.
For battle, however, fantasy magic tends to lean on the traditional elemental forces, such as fireballs, spears of ice, waves of water conjured out of thin air to concuss, drown or knock down, cracks in the earth to drop enemies or trap them, and tunnels of wind to blast people aside. The more convoluted rituals, such as Melisandre's 'shadow assassin' in George R.R. Martin's Song of Ice and Fire novels, are on the border of horror, however. The result is a simple assassination, yes, but the set up and creation of this magic is gut-wrenching to readers, bizarre and disturbing. Fantasy magic, thanks to its broad range of facilitation and effects, gives the audience a massive catalogue of ways to be surprised.
Wrap-up
Genre fiction is frequently looked down on by the purveyors of literary or modern fiction, and for those academic readers who only indulge in non-fiction or poetry, the Triad tends to be viewed with the same kind of disdain one might expect from someone who accidentally steps in a pile of dog excrement. The novels, novellas, short stories, shows and films created in the Triad are dismissed by these folks as 'popcorn entertainment' or 'pablum', or even 'mindless tripe'. However, I would counter such sentiments with the following inquiry- can you really so easily dismiss these works when they clearly demonstrate variety, flexibility, options of presentation, and technique?
I should think not, and hope, over time and with more essays, to demonstrate the value of such works.