Years ago, I was friends with a woman who was adamantly opposed to fiction. She reasoned that because fiction was, by definition, not true it was therefore false and a violation of the ninth commandment. As both an avid fiction reader and an aspiring writer, I was shocked to encounter this belief. It was an idea that I believed took too shallow of an understanding of the purpose and nature of stories.
Good fiction, literature, though certainly “not true” in the same sense as non-fiction isn’t false in the sense of being deceptive or misleading, it isn’t a lie. Stories are meant to reveal truths, to bring to light reality in a way that is more digestible, more approachable than a straightforward recitation of the facts. They are the means by which questions of theology, philosophy, human nature can be contemplated and work their way into our minds and hearts without laborious study. St. Pope John Paul II speaks of this when writing about the creation “myth” he says, “In this case, the term “myth” does not designate a fabulous content, but merely an archaic way of expressing a deeper content.” (General Audience Oct 7, 1979) Stories help us to express deeper content.
Stories can serve a noble purpose. Sadly, many of them fail to do so. Recently, on the request of the teenage daughter of good friends of mine, I started reading a popular work of fiction. It is well written, engaging, with interesting characters but I do not like it. It is, like much popular teen fiction these days, dystopian and as such it lacks hope. There is a clear evil and there are characters who recognize it as such, but any attempt to rebel against it is doomed, there can be no victory. Such a message is in direct opposition to the role of stories. One of the giants of truth-telling, G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.” (Tremendous Trifles 1909)
Stories that give us a dragon but no St. George to defeat it, or a weakened St. George who has angst but no agency, no ability to fight, a world in which the dragon is destined to win, breed despair, hopelessness that leads to a sense of helplessness. What is the point of fighting for justice, goodness, upholding truth if there is no hope, if all our actions are doomed to fail? A steady diet of such stories becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy as those who read them are deprived of hope and, in accepting defeat, refuse to work for the good.
Rather than dismissing literature as lies, let us then reclaim it and use it to proclaim the truth. Read stories that inspire hope. Tell tales that challenge the reader to be courageous. Write fiction that deepens faith and upholds the dignity of the human person, leading to lives lived in conformity to the deepest realities, enriched by the deepest truths. Let your own life be a reminder that though dragons do indeed exist, so does St. George, still fighting the good fight, a fight that is not only worth fighting but one that we have good hope of winning.
My favorite story is “Miss Rumphius,” a children’s book by Barbara Cooney. It gives me so much hope about spreading beauty in the world!
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