Why Do We Need Fiction Anyway?
It is hard for me to imagine asking such a question. And yet, it has been asked often, in many different ways.
Are novels obsolete in today’s technology-based world? Are fiction readers attempting to hang on to a dated, horse-and-buggy habit? How does written fiction serve the audio-visual generation? W
ho but the bedridden can waste time reading a novel these days?
Loving books is an old idea that will never go out of style. A few years ago, the advent of electronic devices on which books could be downloaded and read was touted as the beginning of the end for print books. Hasn’t happened. E-books have not rung a death knell for the old-fashioned paper variety. Neither have books on CD.
Why? Because most readers, at least the ones I know, love books. They want to feel the heft of the tome in their hands. Smell the scent of the ink on paper. They want to cozy up in a comfortable chair and lose themselves in the words on the page.
I can’t speak for others, but I don’t like to be read to, so I don’t listen to books on tape. Maybe because I never had the curled-up-in-the-lap-of-an-adult-with-a-storybook experience as a child, I did not develop warm associations with listening to a story unfold. More likely, I am a visual learner. The auditory medium does not hold my attention. I rarely turn on the radio while driving because I find it distracting. I certainly can’t listen to someone reading a novel to me in the car. I’d run off the road or end up far from my destination.
Besides, I want to read the story myself. I want to see the shape of the words. I want to back up and re-read a particularly pleasing passage. I want to savor the story at my own pace.
Clearly, I am in favor of novels. Even if I didn’t write them, I would still be a crusader. I am a reader, and I hope the publishing world continues to release novels at the current rate. I know I will never be able to read all the books that intrigue me. I can’t even read all the books I presently own. But I find comfort in knowing those unopened, unread volumes are there, quietly waiting. Their characters and stories are ready at a moment’s notice to carry me away from whatever fresh hell my day may bring. For me, being denied the ability to read and write would be the unkindest punishment.
So why does our fast-paced world still need fiction? For the very fact that our lives are hectic. Busy and stressed out, we live in air-conditioned boxes, the doors of which are shut promptly when we arrive home. We don’t have time to sit on the porch, invite a neighbor over for a glass of iced tea, or develop the meaningful relationships our spirits crave. Many of us are deprived of the support of nuclear families. Our relatives live far away, and we see them only on holidays, or at weddings and funerals.
Recent studies revealed that only a small percentage of American workers take full advantage of their earned vacation time. And when we do leave the office, we take our Palm Pilots and cell phones and lap top computers with us in order to work from our vacation destinations.
So where does fiction fit into this scenario?
Fiction is the last true escape. Fiction can take us out of ourselves and make us forget our problems, at least for as long as it takes to read a few pages. Fiction makes sense. Characters’ motivations are believable. Fiction offers order in a chaotic world and helps us understand how others overcome obstacles. If we can’t work out a difficult problem with a friend over a cup of coffee, we can learn to cope by reading how fictional characters deal with trouble. Beloved characters can take the place of the friends we wish we had time to cultivate. They can be the heroes who are often missing in our own lives and in our hard-driving culture. Fiction can give us the happy endings our lives may lack.
Through novels, we learn how men and women relate to each other. How parents mess up their children, and how children disappoint their parents. We learn disappointment doesn’t always matter, but love most certainly does. We can see how society works, and how it fails. How war shatters and compassion heals. We can immerse ourselves in worlds we will never visit and experience the emotions of people we can never know.
At its best, fiction offers a valuable lesson in life. At the very least, fiction provides entertainment and a worthwhile escape.
So what do I say to those who think fiction no longer serves a purpose in our modern age?
I would tell them they simply have not read a good book lately.