In Support of Other Fiction

I’ve made a great number of statements at this website (if written threads can be properly termed “statements”) which convey my displeasure with the obsession that many visiting RAFO seem to have with science fiction and fantasy. It would be hypocritical to pretend that I do not enjoy the occasional science fiction or fantasy book – indeed, if that were the case, how did I end up here in the first place?

My position is not that science fiction and fantasy are not worth reading. I read just this year, with much pleasure, The Gathering Storm, the Mistborn trilogy and Warbreaker. I have read Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Lloyd Alexander, H.P. Lovecraft, Clark Ashton Smith, Orson Scott Card, Douglas Adams, J.K. Rowling and other writers of fantasy and science fiction and will continue to do so.

However, I will repeat a statement that I’ve made several times in the past: Reading science fiction and fantasy is sort of like eating fast food. There’s nothing wrong with it in moderation, but when it dominates what you read, you sit back after the fact, disgusted with yourself and say, “What have I done?”

The reason is that most speculative fiction (and I’ll use that term since it is a more broad and inclusive one than “fantasy and science fiction”) is essentially a diversion, to literature what a Hollywood blockbuster is to cinema. To call it “escapism” risks raising a whole host of moot issues and ignores the fact that many people need such an escape for psychological and/or emotional reasons. However, a diversion of any sort does exactly what its title proclaims – it diverts people from their problems.

Diversion can be helpful, at times necessary. The problem arises when the diversion is constant and unrelenting. Diversions cannot help people solve underlying problems in their lives. A person engaging in diversion is not addressing the fundamental questions of existence in a meaningful way. There is no head-on confrontation with mortality, the double-edged sword of love, politics, religion or musings on other metaphysical questions. Diversion smacks of a furtive, secret love affair that a spouse engages in to avoid dealing with the spousal relationship on its own terms.

Speculative fiction can, in some cases, be more than diversion. The dystopian novel is a prime example of this, where the speculative world serves as a warning for present society to correct perceived mistakes in ideological, economic or sociopolitical trends.

Tolkien is also good example of speculative fiction that comes close to realistic fiction in its themes and motifs. When the main story of The Lord of the Rings is set aside, much of what remains is a corpus of stories and fragments of stories dealing with love, loss, failure and tragedy, with hubris and resentment and the scent of real life. His Lay of Leithian emulates the best traditions of classic epic poetry. Even so, however, his works still fall somewhat short of the mark. Talking about, for example, the “hubris of Boromir” as a parallel to the hubris of Achilles in the Iliad just doesn’t work. The suicide of Dido from the Aeneid has no parallel in Tolkien. However, Tolkien resembles traditional literature in that he addresses the human condition with all of its neuroses and insecurities.

Traditional literature is, first and foremost, about what it means to be human. Fundamental questions about morality, existence, and our lives are raised, and in some cases solutions are proposed to the reader for approval or rejection. Ennui, nostalgia and loss are present. Good doesn’t always win, and characters with deep and well-developed personalities suffer. Fanciful Deus ex machina solutions aren’t available, or at least aren’t usually available. The anticipation of loss is real, and that loss usually then occurs as anticipated. It is because traditional literature addresses these points that it has meaning. We recognise it as real because we feel those things in our lives.

There’s nothing wrong with reading a thriller, or a murder mystery, or a science fiction book. Some even may pleasantly surprise the reader by having some deeper meaning. But we can’t just watch Meet the Parents or Die Hard XXV. Sometimes we need to watch Schindler’s List or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Diversions are useful, but not at the expense of growing intellectually, emotionally or psychologically.

I realise that I am inviting responses that state that Robert Jordan or George Martin aren’t “diversions” (they are) or responses along the lines of “I found deep meaning in X” where “X” can be virtually any series in print. While I further realise that “finding meaning” is a subjective term, objectively speaking it is precisely the “speculative” in speculative fiction that distances it from reality and from the reality of the human condition. One can argue over the level of “diversion” in a particular series, but the fundamental premise is that every now and then, people should read books that aren’t diversions in order to grow.