Dear Michi Trota: How
Fiction is real
By Abby Paul
Readers like me look for themes that inspire. Sure, sometimes it’s
refreshing when a story ends in complete loss like in the Engine at Heartspring’s Center, but I don’t seek out murder
suicide endings in what I read. I appreciate themes like good vs. evil or
knowledge vs. ignorance, because asserts that positive change is possible. So
much of the world we live in is a gray area, full of worries. Genre fiction has
a tendency of making things black and white, discerning right from wrong. The X-Men fight radicals and genocidists,
saving lives and putting away villains. Genre fiction is often optimistic about
the existence of light and love among darkness and hate. Every problem has some
solution and the world can be kept in balance. I enjoy themes of optimism,
overcoming, and resilience for their relevance to issues in my life. I may not
have journeyed across dangerous lands to fight a treasure hoarding dragon, but
like Bilbo I can feel exasperated working toward a nearly impossible goal.
Genre fiction can sweep you away from reality and give you a fast adventure,
but drawing connections between two worlds with a message relates with readers.
Relevance is like medicine you hide in yogurt to trick your cat. When I
pick up a book I am looking for another world, not an anecdote that will tell
me how to live my life. “Oh boy the character in my book has a math test too!
Will his studying pay off? Oh the suspense!” said no one ever. But medicine
stays with you, it makes you feel better, and it pays off in the long run. At a
first glance the best fiction is far removed from reality, filled with
superpowers, space travel and antique police boxes that few teenagers have ever
seen in real life. Then you see real lives: relatable people with relatable
trials among aliens and robots. And it makes you think. You grow attached to the characters, take
interest in their lives, and empathize with their struggles. I look for stories
that engage readers without straightforward relevance to my life. Indeed, the
best characters have their white whales and backstories. In written genre
fiction we often have the advantage of getting inside the protagonist’s head.
For example, in Neverwhere, we see
Richard’s transition more clearly from missing home to embracing London below,
because we know some of his thoughts. Little ironies and jokes bring a sense of
genuineness to their person. Similarly I appreciate worlds built similar to the
real world, not in that they have the same rules as reality, but in that they
merely have rules. In genre fiction like Doctor
Who, the rules of the world are stretched and bent, but never broken.
Paradoxes are always a limiting factor in that world. There is a necessity to
be able to make sense of the fictional world to understand the plight of the
characters within.
In conclusion my preferred genre fiction doesn’t have to be sugar coated,
without loss or labor, because from fiction I learned light does not exist
without darkness and character does not exist without trials. When authors
interweave relevant themes into fantastic stories, they interest and engage the
reader. The heart of the story should speak to the hearts of the readers.
Abby,
ReplyDeleteI love the idea of avoiding a sugar-coating on narratives -- love it as much as your perfect line, "Indeed, the best characters have their white whales and backstories." If there's a "medicine" factor in fiction of any kind, it's not just that it needs to come with a spoonful of sugar, but that the medicine needs to emerge naturally from those white whales and thorny pasts and troubled resolutions. That "stretched and bent, but never broken" element of sff character is so important, because it's what allows the reader to be tested along with the protagonist. Thanks for sharing your thoughts so ably and so eloquently.
Best,
TT