Fiction vs. Non fiction - a personal rumination

Fiction vs. Non fiction - a personal rumination

I have heard this view from a lot many friends:... “Bala, I have stopped reading fiction, I only read Non-fiction” or “Fiction is waste of time, I am better off reading a book that increases my knowledge...”, or with a look of condescension in their eyes, they tell me “You still read fiction, what do you gain by it…” These are representative comments that I have gotten from many educated friends. Frankly, I don’t respond to these, only because I regard these individuals in high esteem, and would not want to offend them in any manner. They are entitled to their opinions and I respect them for it. But the purpose of this essay is to present a case for fiction, not because it really needs one, but merely as a plea to not get into a trap of snobbism, and start deriding the ancient art of storytelling as a distraction in an otherwise “purpose driven” human life. Good fiction is perhaps the earliest form of human communication. It is fiction that has been passed over millennia to shape thoughts and ideas of Mankind; and it is fiction that we deal with each day of our lives. Every time we speak, some amount of it is fictionalized. Only a machine can be completely factual and objective; if something is living and talking - then rest assured - a story is being told. So let us not be weary of fiction.

Well, let me begin by saying that majority of my reading is Non-fiction. Out of ten books that I read, at least half of it belongs to that category. Some of these are part of my research and study, and others to satisfy my sheer fascination for arcane tidbits, and, of course expansion of intellectual horizons. But I would definitely not give up my time spent on reading good fiction for anything else in this world, no matter what. Here are my reasons for it, and for a change I am listing them as distinct points (a writing style that I normally don’t use)

a. What do I mean by good “fiction”? By it, I mean the art of storytelling in a manner that uses language, context, characterization to paint a world that is removed from an individual’s daily reality, and more importantly possessing the ability to drag the reader consciously into its web of carefully crafted story by sheer power, beauty and depth of its narrative texture, metaphors and descriptions; compelling them to participate in the flow of the tale with vivid empathy and interest, teasing them to bask in the rich nuances of unfolding drama - and above all, leaving the participant existentially enriched after the book is closed. The reader is transposed to a world that he may never encounter in reality, but would come out of this reading experience with a feeling of having lived every moment in the impeccable grip of the story that the author had conjured in his mind. This kind of story telling is what, my dear readers, we call literary fiction. And I distinguish this from another kind of writing called pulp fiction - which is essentially mindless, mechanical and mainly written for distraction when you have nothing else to do or what in popular parlance is classified as “killing time”. The Question is: how do we know which one is what? Now, that’s an answer that can only come from an individual. Agreed, there is a certain degree of trial and error there. But the best way to begin is by reading acknowledged classics, books that have stood the test of time; books that are recommended by critics, friends and avid readers; or sometimes a book mysteriously draws us towards it in a way that cannot be reasoned. The beauty though is that once we start reading in this manner, we become more capable of making better judgments of what kind of fiction appeals to us and we develop an instinct to pick up right kinds of books. The problem with readers who swear by non-fiction is that they have not found time to savor fiction well enough, or have been consistently reading books that are really not engaging them deep enough at an emotional level. Hence the disillusionment (probably). As I write this piece, I know that only a couple of days ago El James, third installment of “Shades of grey” has hit the market, and thousands are queuing up outside bookshops to buy this inane piece of work that should strictly be categorized as pornography, but by some strange of destiny has taken the decent appellation of a novel. If this kind of fiction is what we wish to eschew from our lives, then I am with all of you.
b. Also, what I have realized when I talk to people who don’t care for fiction is that many of them haven’t read enough to even make a preliminary judgment, let alone an educated evaluation. I know of several youngsters who have told me that fiction is ”crap”, “non-productive” and such like sentiments. It has almost become a fashion to take a stand that “I read only non-fiction”. It gives them a sense of intellectual superiority, I guess. I once, had an opportunity to hear an acquaintance of mine tell me that reading Dickens is wasting precious time and that he would be better of reading a book on Al-Qaeda. It is more topical and relevant. Well, I remained silent. How can I ever convey to him the indescribable joy of curling on a sofa, with a reading light on top, after a tiring day’s work, to read few chapters from David Copperfield, Great expectations or hundreds of other masterpieces, and lose myself in the era, language and setting that these stories evoke?
c. Have we not grown up with tales? How many of us have had a childhood that does not resonate with a story that was and is dear to our hearts. Our cultural continuity as a human race lies in the stories we heard and that the ones we tell. Even today, we would sit wide eyed, if someone can fabricate a good tale. Anthropologically, language grew out of myths and stories our hunting ancestors told themselves sitting around night time fire. How can we then relinquish this heritage?
d. One of the compelling reasons given for not reading fiction is that it does not “improve” ones knowledge. And this is the tragedy of modern era. We have begun to live more and more in the head and let go of the heart. Fiction, however bad it is, touches the heart; and for most of us that has become dispensable activity. Historically, whenever there has been progress in knowledge, we also witness dramas, novels and poetry flourish as well. Prime example being 16th century renaissance. It was an age which transformed our world view scientifically, and it was also an age when some of the greatest pieces of literature and art were produced. This balance is required in cultured civilization.

When I started writing this piece in the afternoon, it was more of an attempt to justify literature as blessed pursuit. Over the years, fiction has nourished me in many ways than one. Language, expression, perspectives, and opinions - so many different threads of learning have found its confluence in this art form. And yes, I have read my fair share of books that could be deemed as waste of time; but I always look upon such books only as an aberration and never the norm. In the three hundred odd essays that I have penned (most of them “non-fiction”), none of them are free from the influence of fiction. Both Fiction and Nonfiction are the yin and yang of literature. One without the other is incomplete…

God bless…

Yours in mortality,

Bala