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CARS 02 · Humanities: philosophy of art and literature

Feeling for Nobody

A humanities passage on why we are moved by characters we know are invented.

Passage

Readers weep over the deaths of people who never lived. There is nothing remarkable in this until one tries to explain it. Ordinarily an emotion is tied to a belief: we fear a dog because we believe it is dangerous, and we grieve for a friend because we believe she has died. The reader of a novel holds no such belief. She knows perfectly well that the heroine is an invention, that no one has died, that there is no one to pity. And yet her throat tightens. Philosophers call this the paradox of fiction, and the puzzle is not that people are moved but that nothing in our usual picture of emotion says they should be.

Three responses have dominated the discussion. The first denies that the reader’s feelings are genuine, calling them “quasi-emotions”: imitations of the real thing without its substance. The second holds that readers temporarily believe in the characters, suspending disbelief as an audience at a play is said to do. The third holds that an emotion can be aroused by vividly imagining a situation, without any belief that the situation is real.

The first response is the weakest. The feelings of a reader do differ from those of a bereaved friend, but the differences are of degree and consequence rather than of kind: her pulse quickens, her eyes fill, and she reports sadness. To call these states counterfeit is to define “genuine” so narrowly that the paradox is dissolved by decree rather than explained. The second response fails for a plainer reason. A person who believed that a murder was taking place in front of her would call for help; no member of an audience does, and no one regards this restraint as a failure of nerve. Our behavior shows that we do not believe what we are watching.

The third response is the most promising, since it allows genuine emotion without false belief, yet it leaves something unexplained. If imagining a sorrow causes pain, why would anyone seek the experience out? People choose tragedies, as they do not choose misfortunes. Here the best answer may lie in what fiction withholds. The reader feels sorrow without any of the burdens that sorrow ordinarily brings: no funeral to arrange, no one to console, no life that must be rebuilt. Emotion is detached from action, and in that detachment it can be examined, enjoyed for its intensity, even rehearsed. Fiction is, on this view, less a deception than a protected place in which to feel.

This account should be held modestly. It does not follow, as enthusiasts sometimes claim, that readers of fiction become kinder in life. The rehearsal metaphor suggests that practice improves performance, but a reader who weeps over an invented orphan may pass a real one without a glance, and the same detachment that makes the sorrow bearable may make it easy to leave behind when the book is closed. What the account explains is why the feeling is possible and why it is sought. Whether it is useful remains a separate question, and the paradox itself does not settle it.

Questions

Question 1 of 6

Which of the following best states the main point of the passage?

Question 2 of 6

The author mentions a person who believed that a murder was taking place in front of her in order to:

Question 3 of 6

According to the passage, the “quasi-emotion” response fails mainly because it:

Question 4 of 6

The author’s attitude toward the claim that readers of fiction become kinder in life is best described as:

Question 5 of 6

Which finding would most strengthen the author’s explanation of why people seek out tragedies?

Question 6 of 6

With which of the following statements would the author most likely agree?