Leave Fiction to Writers
By Victoria Fortune
I recently saw a moving performance of Vincent, a one-man show based on the letters between Vincent van Gogh and his brother, Theo. In one letter, Van Gogh explains the need to distort his subject on the canvas in order to convey the truth of what he saw, as he saw it. That is the fiction writer’s job as well. “Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth,” as Nobel-prize winning author Albert Camus said.
As audacious as it may be to argue with Camus, I disagree with the term “lie” regarding what fiction writers do. We are not intending to deceive anyone (as the most common definition of “lie” indicates). It is understood by readers that works of fiction are not “true,” but rather carefully crafted to convey the “truth that reality obscures,” as Emerson put it. As long as we read them this way, they can offer insight and perspective. But If we take fiction literally, we will be woefully misled.
Non-fiction, on the other hand, is expected to adhere to facts. If readers discover that a book billed as a memoir is full of invented details, they react with fiery indignation, as James Frey and Margaret Seltzer can attest. Nonfiction writers who play fast and loose with the facts risk losing their credibility and, if they work for a reputable publication, their jobs. No one likes to be duped. Or do they?
It appears that a contingent of American voters are perfectly willing, even enthusiastic, to be duped. It has been well documented that Donald Trump tells an astounding number of “untruths.” The Washington Post’s fact-checking team has recently created an entirely new category—the Bottomless Pinocchio—to account for all the lies that Trump regurgitates over and over again, long after they have been debunked. (I call them “lies” because they are clearly meant to deceive.) And yet Trump maintains the loyalty of his core supporters. Why? Those who acknowledge his lies argue that Trump’s fabrications are meant to reveal larger truths.
For example, when the GDP rate recently exceeded the unemployment rate, Trump claimed It was the first time this had happened in 100 years, when in fact, it happened just 10 years ago, and it has been the case 20 percent of the time over the last 70 years. One Trump supporter said on CNN, “Well he may not get the details right, but the overall message is accurate.” But the message is that Trump has achieved unprecedented economic success, which is not true. In another example, the president retweeted a video that falsely claimed to depict a Muslim immigrant attacking a white bystander. When confronted with the fact that it was a fake, White House Press Secretary Sarah Sanders defended Trump by saying, ““Whether it’s a real video, the threat is real.” In other words, as his fans have argued, we are not supposed to take him literally. Apparently, we are supposed to “read” Trump as though he were a novelist.
Unlike actual novelists, however, who strive to make their stories seem real but never expect their readers to believe them, Trump wants his supporters to believe his narrative. And they are only too eager to do so. After all, in the story he’s telling, they are the heroes, their worldview is validated, and they win in the end. I can understand the appeal, like being absorbed in a book set in a fantasy world far more appealing than the one you live in. But it’s a fantasy. Imagine reading Lord of the Rings as though it were nonfiction and making real-world decisions with real-world consequences based on your understanding of the world gleaned from that series. You would be arming yourself against imaginary monsters and setting off on meaningless quests.
Trump certainly has the imagination for fiction. With a better command of the English language, a capacity for reflection and sustained concentration, and a modicum of interest in anything or anyone other than himself, perhaps he would make a good novelist. But a good leader? That requires dwelling in the world of fact, which Trump seems incapable of.
Photo credit: Vincent van Gogh, The Starry Night
