Death and Fantasy

In a recent interview published in The New York Times Russell Banks, author and poet, said that he actively avoids fantasy books.

A distaste for fantasy books alone is not remarkable, but Banks seems to dismiss any chances that the genre has merit.

Q: And how would you describe the kinds of books you steer clear of? 

A: Anything described by the author or publisher as fantasy, which to me says, “Don’t worry, Reader, Death will be absent here.” In his brief introduction to “Slow Learner,” Thomas Pynchon says he takes serious writing to be that in which Death is present. I agree.

This answer could spur many discussions. What is the nature of fantasy literature? What really constitutes "serious writing"? (I'm not sure the presence of death is an adequate litmus test.) How do we determine what great literature is?
The latter two require a reading of Pynchon's introduction to "Slow Learner" to be thorough, and I don't have access to that.
The first question is too big for one post.
There are still other topics this left open. This post will attempt to debunk Banks belief that death is absent from fantasy books.
(Readers beware. Spoilers for various fantasy works abound from here forward.)
It's not a difficult thing to debunk. Some works in the genre do treat death as a sort of revolving door through which people may pass whenever the plot needs them to, but the giants of the genre tend to treat it with a little more gravity.
George R. R. Martin's "Game of Thrones" series has been cited regularly in discussions of Banks' words. Martin kills off characters often, almost gleefully.
Death is as present in his setting as dragons.
The plot in Neil Gaiman's "Ocean at the End of the Lane" is instigated by death.
The Harry Potter series features death prominently from beginning to end. All seven books feature death in some form. The book spends a significant amount of time waxing philosophical on the inevitability of death and the fact that there's no coming back from it.
Muriel Sparks' "Memento Mori" (though it's debatable whether the book qualifies as fantasy) is a book about accepting the inevitability of death.
J.R.R. Tolkien's characters were also no strangers to death. Kings and peasants alike died in "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" and never did seem to get over it. (This ignores the case of Gandalf, but he was never exactly mortal to begin with.)

Welcome to Words on Words

I'm Chase Robinson. I'm a journalism student, bibliophile and extraordinarily novice linguist.
This is a blog about words. Specifically, this is a blog about storytelling and language.
I'll be posting about genre, journalism and the theoretical implications of the increasing acceptance of the word "ya'll" in the United States.
My interest in language started when I was only four or five. I've dabbled in Spanish, Latin, French, German, Greek and Japanese just enough to realize how very little I know (and then forget all of it).
I'm fascinated with tidbits of linguistic trivia.
For instance, in Biblical Greek "ποταμóς" (something like "potamos") means river, but the Potomac River has nothing to do with it. Instead, the Potomac takes its name from a Native American tribe.
I also spend a lot of time thinking about things like whether the separation of children's literature from the rest of the written word is helpful or harmful.
For more words on words, check http://afewwordsonwords.blogspot.com/ weekly.