The Great Irony Between the Author and his Readers

The reader exists in a nexus with the writer of fiction. Several theories have been proposed to explain the nature of this nexus. Samuel Coleridge was the first to use the phrase “suspension of disbelief.” The reader temporarily suspends his judgment regarding fantastical or non-realistic elements in order for pleasure or some other non-physical capital. The reader accepts that a wardrobe can really transport children to an alternate world and accepts that ghosts truly can appear to show someone the true meaning of Christmas.

In a radio interview Guillermo Del Toro was asked concerning the difference between directing a film and writing a book. Del Toro replied that there was an inherent difference between the forms. Whereas in film the events will always happen at the same pace and in the same way, a book allows the reader to become a co-director. He follows the guideline provided by the author and in his mind creates the world following the guidelines of his own imagination.

This is similar to the idea of “sub-creation” put forward by J.R.R. Tolkien in his article "On Fairy-Stories." This idea accepts that the writer becomes like a god as he creates the new and the reader as well who forms the same world again in his own mind. The reader chooses to believe the work based on its inner-consistency. Although certain elements may differ from the “primary world,” in the “secondary world” of literature the reader can accept them as true. Of course, the form is not universally appreciated. Tolkien writes,

“Fantasy, of course, starts out with an advantage: arresting strangeness. But that advantage has been turned against it, and has contributed to its disrepute. Many people dislike being “arrested.” They dislike any meddling with the Primary World, or such small glimpses of it as are familiar to them. They, therefore, stupidly and even maliciously confound Fantasy with Dreaming, in which there is no Art; and with mental disorders, in which there is not even control: with delusion and hallucination.”

Still others find a hard time restricting judgment, based on standards of the primary world. This is often seen among fundamentalist Christians who disregard such works as Harry Potter as inherently Satanic merely through its use of magic. This is not to say that the reader should not judge the work based on standards, even moral ones. Instead, there ought to be some amount of charity on the part of the reader who can accept a new world without bringing false standards of mistaken piety, accepting a story on its own definitions, its own merits. They may even find themselves drawn in to something beyond themselves.

In the same article Tolkien mentions that good fantasy (or even science fiction) is hard to create. He writes:

Fantasy has also an essential drawback: it is difficult to achieve. . . “the inner consistency of reality” is more difficult to produce, the more unlike are the images and the rearrangements of primary material to the actual arrangements of the Primary World. It is easier to produce this kind of “reality” with more “sober” material. Fantasy thus, too often, remains undeveloped; it is and has been used frivolously, or only half-seriously, or merely for decoration: it remains merely “fanciful.”

This statement, however, seems to be flawed, even wrong if I wanted to be more forceful. To adopt the language from the first theory, suspension of disbelief is required when the reader encounters something he realizes in inconsistent with the primary world. Works are not judged only by their internal consistency, but also on how well they fit in with the primary world where they are expected to.

Historical fiction often grapples with this problem. No matter how internally consistent the story may be, certain elements are supposed to correspond to the primary world. This is why it requires a great deal of research in order to produce a novel, which though it may be fiction, accurately reflects the world in which it is portrayed. Undoubtedly, certain mistakes will easily be missed by the general reader who cannot spot the discrepancies. The same text, however, when read by one experience in knowledge of the era could easily spot the discrepancies. The more familiar the reader is with the supposed context of the story, the easier the discrepancies are seen.

Tolkien’s statement errs because it mixes these two problems: internal-consistency on the one hand and consistency between the primary and secondary world on the other. Discrepancies found in historical fiction often have nothing to do with the first problem. Yes, spittoons may not have been used in sixteenth century England, but this does not mean the work is internally inconsistent. The writer of any fiction thus grapples with twin beasts.

The same struggle is often seen in science fiction. In a story that takes place in the near-future, authors find themselves struggling to produce a believable secondary world. Actions by various nations are often seen as patently ridiculous by many readers because they differ with how the reader views the world. Again, this does not fail the test of internal consistency, but, it does fail the second test. It fails to match elements in the secondary world which ought to be consistent with the primary world.

Like the scholar of sixteenth-century England reading a book on Queen Elizabeth, inconsistencies between the primary and secondary world are evident based on the amount of knowledge the reader supposes he has of the context. Here is found the great irony of the suspension of disbelief. In general, it is actually easier to suspend judgment as the story becomes more fantastical in nature, more divorced from reality. The further divorced from the reader’s knowledge or experience, the easier the tale becomes to write. Suddenly, the reader stops looking for connections between the primary and secondary world, and instead only focuses, even if merely at a subconscious level, on just the internal consistency of the work. By divorcing the story from reality, the writer encounters only one hobgoblin where before there was two. And, as any adventurer who had made his way through the blood forests of Grishnaw would know, fighting one hobgoblin alone is always easier than facing two.

A Commentary on Life's Possibilities...

Once there was a little bear,

His name was Buffy Bill;

He was furry, full of hair,

He went up on a hill.

When he reached the top of the mound

Oh! The things he spied;

he could see for miles around,

until he fell and died.

A Constructive Conspiracy

What sometimes annoys me is that I know of no site where I can find accurate charts that provide up-to-date numbers and charts detailing the current financial situation. If anyone happens to know a good one, please provide the link below. However, as a result of my own search, I provide you with the charts below. I apologize that they all do not cover the same dates, and I realize I left out many other factors. This is not a comprehensive list, only a few of the important ones all in the same place:

US UNEMPLOYMENT RATE

GROSS DOMESTIC PRODUCT (percentage change) [a little hope at the end here, though it seems to be going back down again]

PERSONAL SAVINGS (in Billions) [It seems that the recession continues to eat away at Americans' savings]

And of course: US NATIONAL DEBT

One final note of personal speculation: (which will also be a dramatic over-simplification of the situation. Deal with it)

It seems that "corporate America" is sitting on around 1.8 trillion dollars in reserve. While many are upset that such institutions are not releasing the money into the American economy, I rather think that these companies are following sound logic. Let me explain. If such institutions did release their capital en masse undoubtedly it would have a positive effect on the economy. However, the only way Republicans will take back the House in 86 days or so is if the economy remains stagnant. Thus, it is in the best interests of the companies to hesitate for several more months in order to secure a Republican victory, thereby ensuring there will be no new major taxes pushed through by the Democratic Party on their institutions. It makes sense that these companies will avoid such "uncertain markets" as they hold off for better prospects.

The politically minded citizen ought to take note of these companies. Your dollar is currently worth more than your vote in November. For those who wish for a Republican takeover, you ought to cease all extraneous spending. It is in your best interests to continue or even worsen the recession for the next several months. Hold off on buying that new dvd or book; instead, keep your money in the bank. As soon as we again have a Republican majority, make a withdraw and go out and buy everything you've been waiting on. The major companies at the same time will start releasing their own capital. Thus, in the immediate months after the election there will be an immediate boost in the economy as Americans leave the recession behind. Such a reversal will be so immediate that it will only be attributable to the Republican takeover, setting the ground for a Presidential victory in 2012.

Fascinating

I have a couple new posts in mind but no time to work on them while I'm at home. So, for now, here's a link I found fascinating:

http://www.skytopia.com/project/fractal/mandelbulb.html

Book Review(ish) - Worthing Saga

Among the books listed in my last post, perhaps the least well known is Worthing Saga by Orson Scott Card. If the true power of great literature is judged by its ability to influence the reader, then for me this book is one of the greatest works I have ever read.

Orson Scott Card himself writes within several genres, most notably science fiction. Although a Mormon, it is rare to see any direct religious references come through in much of his work. (not something I find fault with, merely an observation) Worthing Saga is different. As a story it sets up clear parallels between the Fall of Man in Genesis as well as to the theme of the book of Job. In a mere 300 pages the novel covers a broad philosophical spectrum: man's purpose in life, man's place within community, the purpose of government, the danger of technology, urban planning, etc. However, the main focus of this blog is on the novel's answer to the cry of Job.

To maintain the book's full power for any who wish to read it, I am going to avoid a complete discussion of the plot. At the beginning of the book, however, we are introduced to a society that wakes up to what will come to be known as "The Day of Pain." For the first time anger gives way to violence. For the first time people have accidents which cause great injury. For the first time women die in childbirth. People in this village wonder what has befallen them. Did God die? If God was still watching over them, why is there such suffering?

The novel eventually answers this basic question by arguing that it is not right to prevent anyone from feeling the full force of pain. On one level, people and communities are only able to grow when they can learn from pain, learn from their mistakes. Even more important than this is the notion that without pain people become emotionally stunted. One can only know true joy, this book argues, when you also know the full extent of pain and depravity. Before I read this book, I would have said that this was not true. After all, must one watch a poor movie in order to appreciate one that is well-done. After reading this book, I wonder.

As I read this book, I couldn't help but relate its discussion of pain to my own Christian theology. I recall one time in a freshman theology class at college a fellow student asked an intriguing question. "Mankind has already fallen once," he said. "What is to prevent us in heaven from falling again?" I remember the teacher responded to this question by positing that perhaps the nature of humanity in heaven is inherently different somehow that humanity in Eden. For myself, this novel provided a clear answer to this question. The very experience of pain alters each individual in a profound way.

Yes, the nature of humanity in heaven is different. It was the one commandment in Genesis 2:17 that man was not eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Before the fall, man could be considered to be in a state of innocence. After the fall, we fell into a state of depravity. By the grace of God, through the process of salvation and our ascension to heaven, we shed our sin natures as we become like Christ. We do not shed, however, our experience of the process, our memories. We will forever remember what it was like to live in a world of sin, a world of pain. We will forever have lived through "The Day of Pain."

It is through this process that humanity will be able to understand more fully the nature of joy. I dare to posit that man is actually a greater creature in heaven than he ever could have been without the Fall. It is in this that Romans 8:28 shines out all the clearer. "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." All events do not work together for good for every man. It is only to those who love God that things will work together for good. Even then it seems to me that basic life experience shows that on earth all things do not work together for good to those who love God. It is only when heaven is included in the equation that this verse is possible. I think too many miss this basic point.

Would we ever be able to enjoy the full impact of God's unending and unfathomable grace and mercy without knowing the full extent or our own depravity? Adam and Eve in the garden then become emotionally stunted creatures, devoid of not only of knowledge of God's greatness, but even of the ability to feel great joy and happiness. Yet God in his foreknowledge saw mankind's fall before we were even created, and in this knowledge foreordained a process of transformation. Could this not have been God's final purpose in his creation?

The Genre is the Metaphor

It seems to be that more than any other genre, Science Fiction is able to focus on the human race in three disctint ways. It asks three simple questions: What are we? What ought we to be? What will we be?

1984 and Brave New World each illustrate the prophetic nature of Sci-Fi, in this case predicting rather bleak futures in which mankind is the author of its own destruction.

Other works illustrate the opposite, a basic belief in humanism. Examples include Asimov's Foundation Trilogy, Orson Scott Card's Worthing Saga, and Frank Herbert's Dune. (though this last one is certainly debatable)

Often Sci-Fi works are able to focus on what it means to be human by setting up a comparison with what isn't. James Cameron is a master of this technique, doing so in four of his films, most recently Avatar.

Many works focus on a single aspect of human nature, often his aggressive and warlike impulses. In Orson Scott Card's Enders Game such focus is brilliantly contrasted with man's empathy.

I am in no way saying that only Sci-Fi is able to address these three basic questions, or even that it always does so. However, it seems clear to me that all genres are coupled with natural strengths and weaknesses. Westerns are narrow in their field of scope. Romances easily fall prey to the hobgoblins of repetiveness and tripe.

While Sci-Fi is not without its own specters, as a genre it has the natural strength of lending itself to casuist concerns. Perhaps this is because by its nature it focuses on questions of the future. Perhaps this is because of its often large scope, covering large areas of space and vast amounts of time (Asimov's "The Last Question") Perhaps this is because of its focus on an individual's place within society, on his ability to impact change.

*Author recommends every example listed above

Patient #1 - Short Story

The doctor walked slowly down the corridor, leaning heavily on his cane. Time had long since stopped being his friend as each day his body seemed to advance a little further in its war against his desires. He reached his hand up to stroke his beard, but stopped himself from the habit. He had grown fond of his beard. It first appeared almost forty years ago after his wife had told him it made seem more friendly and approachable.

Soldiers saluted as he passed by. Briefly he entertained the thought that they were saluting for him, the famous and well-respected psychologist known across the academic land. No, that was not the case. They saluted the flashy and slightly repulsive man who walked beside him. The general reeked of his own arrogance and power. Others would assume that as they walked the general had been talking about his extensive views on politics and intermixed with lengthy descriptions of his army base. The doctor knew the man truly spoke only about himself. The general was a man living his life in chains, bound by the very expectations he had placed on himself. The doctor laughed a little after this thought, wasn’t this true of everyone?

“You find the defenses amusing?” asked the general curiously as they stopped before a door at the end of the hall. Two more guards were stationed outside the door. The general assured him there were at least two directly outside the door every our of the day and night. “The precautions are after all only commensurate to the value of what they guard."

The doctor smiled for the general. There was of course no way that he could find such precautions amusing. Such a great find of such vast importance had to be protected in all ways possible.

“Hmm,” mused the general. “Protection is I suppose one function of the guards. But a door can go both ways, no?”

The general gestured to one of the guards who turned and keyed in an access code. The door slid smoothly open. The general walked forward, but the doctor put his arm on the general’s shoulder. The doctor worked alone. There was to be no interference from the outside.

The general looked vaguely annoyed at this, but the doctor reassured him that this had been part of the initial agreement on his part to come. The general gave a smile that only barely hid the annoyance the man obviously felt as he again agreed to this. The doctor gave a grateful smile and leaned heavily on his cane as he walked into the room.

The room was large and dimly lit by soft overhead lights. It had several areas divided into sections by furniture. Off to the left was obviously a bedroom with a small living area off to the right. In the back of the room were two wooden overflowing bookshelves. The doctor understood that he would not be truly alone with the subject, the many cameras mounted on the ceiling made sure of that. It was in the back of the room that the doctor was given his first view of the boy. The boy seemed to be about eleven years old and was wearing workout pants with a white t-shit as he stood on an exercise mat.

The boy of course knew the doctor had entered, but had given no indication as yet of acknowledgement. The doctor was fine with this and stood waiting to be received. Better to give the other the illusory position of power by being able to start the conversation on his own terms.

The boy’s body stretched and contorted as he exercised. It looked like some form of Yoga or Tai Chi, but as the doctor studied he was fairly sure this was neither. Perhaps it was something of the boy’s own invention.

Whatever it may have been, it was certainly impressive. However difficult the position, the boy’s face was one of outward calm. As he continued, the only sign of difficulty was the slight shaking of the limbs and the constant drips of sweat that had already darkened the mat beneath.

A small measure of guilt wafted past the doctor’s mind as he turned his awareness toward his own body. Not really overweight. He had never been truly overweight. Of course, he had never been that healthy either. So what if he liked desserts and disliked exercise? That was only the natural state of things. The doctor wouldn’t apologize for giving in to such desires. He was older now, and it was no use moping about things that were now too late to change.

The boy finished and lay on the floor, his eyes now closed and almost covered by his blond hair. The doctor thought he might have drifted to sleep. However, the boy’s breathing belied this thought, too intentional to be real.

“What do you want?” demanded the boy after a space, opening his eyes and tilting his head slightly to give the doctor a cold, calculating stare. The boy’s eyes were a dark blue, a deep blue.

The doctor felt suddenly uncomfortable beneath the unrelenting gaze, the eyes that seemed to look through him rather than at him. Put such foolish thoughts out of your mind the doctor chided himself. He took a couple steps forward, slightly exaggerating his limp. See, I am of no threat at all. The doctor introduced himself, but the boy seemed uncaring about such things.

“So many before you have tried,” said the boy, obviously aware of the reason behind the visit. “They have all went away disappointed.”

The boy sat up and dropped the smile. The doctor, however, had expected such a welcome. He had already decided that the best strategy would be the truth. As the general had explained on the first day he had come to his office to request his assistance, the boy had been discovered and captured over forty years ago. To this day, he had shown no sign of outward aging. How long had this boy been alive? How had this happened? These were the questions, and it was a mystery where only one knew the answer.

“And what if I give you the answer?” asked the boy with a hint of contempt. “What then? Will you fall down and offer your thanks? Will whichever government that is in power now share this gift to all without prejudice? Is it even a gift that ought to be shared? What will I become when my body and memory are of no further use?”

The doctor came then to accept what he hadn't allowed himself to believe. This boy had more experience and wisdom than his youthful frame suggested. The doctor could again only reply to such questions with part of the truth. The boy’s eyes argued that he would know if the doctor said anything other. But there’s no need to assume the worst.

“There is a story about two birds I once heard,” replied the boy. “The fox only has time to kill one. The other is able to fly away.” The boy paused briefly. “But then the other dies from a hunter the next day."

A sense of humor, maybe just depression? Either way the boy showed no trust at all. The boy has closed himself away.

The doctor stayed for a little while longer before ending the first session. This couldn’t be solved with just one visit. If any trust could develop, it could only happen slowly.

The doctor came back every week. The boy often would not talk to him at all. Sometimes the boy simply got in his bed and went to sleep.

The boy’s breakdown was unexpected and sudden. After constantly ignoring the doctor through action, inaction, or simply through sarcastic remarks, on one visit the boy finally let his guard down.

It began with the boy’s own comment in a moment of uncharacteristic verbosity. “All of you,” said the boy, “You drift through life in terror. You live ever hour in a constant mire of misery and imagine to yourself that if only you could live forever, all misery would fall away from you like ice melting in the sun.”

The doctor was surprised. The boy’s words were poetic. The doctor smiled and replied that maybe this statement said more about the boy than it did about him. Despite all the egotism such a statement implied, despite the haughty and cold demeanor he gave the doctor in every visit, despite the derision and scorn and unabashed loathing the boy displayed, was this not all simply a wall to protect him from misery?

After all, the saddest moments of life are the times we say goodbye to something we've come to love. Maybe such a person as he would never have to say goodbye to life, but everything and everyone else has to say goodbye to him. Maybe such a person would actually be a little envious of those who walked ahead of himself.

“Foolish,” said the boy as he stood up and walked away.

Perhaps he was thinking of memories of long ago. Perhaps he saw images of smiling friends, a laughing sister, a loving family. A long life must certainly have been filled with many friends over the years. Was it hard to say goodbye? Was it even harder knowing you couldn’t follow?

“Shut up,” yelled the boy from the corner. “And I’m not crying,” protested the boy in response to the doctor’s glance, but the boy’s hand wiping his face clearly said something else.

The doctor ignored the command and pressed onward. Perhaps the boy had once sought comfort by making new friends. Perhaps he found solace in their laughter. Was it harder to say goodbye the second time? Was it ever harder the third? How could such a pattern not drive a person mad? Ah, that was how. The doctor explained his sudden revelation. The process could perhaps be stopped by setting up a wall, by refusing to seek solace. Perhaps time itself would lend its aid. Everything is easier to bear the next morning. But what if all you saw was a reminder? This boy wasn’t arrogant at all. He didn’t look down on others. He envied them. They weren’t left alone.

The boy’s body in the corner racked with sobs. The doctor didn’t know what to say to comfort him. What could be said? Was it going to get better? The doctor simply walked to the boy and held him close. What else was there to do? When the tears were at last spent, the boy slept. The doctor set him down softly.

Departing the room he was greeted with an eager face. The boy was broken; he would surely tell the doctor everything. The doctor simply must come back tomorrow for the next interview or better yet go back in now, take advantage of the boy’s weakness.

The doctor looked the general in the eye. “Let the boy go,” he said softly. “Let him find what peace he can in his own way. Let his curse live and die with him alone.”

The doctor walked away, leaving only stunned faces in his wake.

“This is to help others,” yelled the general after him. “This secret could help cure diseases. It could help save millions of lives. It could change the world! How could you walk away from this?”

The doctor, however, continued to lean on his cane and amble slowly down the hall, disgusted at the man who continued to shout after him. Others may think he spoke of humanitarianism. The doctor knew that the man spoke only of himself.