"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.
Books are well written, or badly written. That is all."
-Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
As we discussed in class on Friday, books can have content that discusses characters performing moral or immoral actions, but cannot be in themselves moral or immoral. Nicole mentioned that books cannot be moral or immoral because they are not conscious beings; that is, books are not moral agents capable of being moral or immoral. I agree with these two points.
We also discussed how the morality or immorality came from the reader's interpretation of the content of the book. Stacy mentioned moral relativism, and decided that books could not be moral or immoral because they could always be interpreted in different ways, by different cultures. As a moral realist, I feared that Wilde's theory led to moral relativism, but I am now confident that it does not.
I retract my statement that the (im)morality lies in the reader's interpretation; instead, I think it lies in the actions of the characters in the work. When a character performs an action, that action falls on the spectrum of morality (or, it is perhaps amoral, if there is such an action), or at least it would if that action were occurring in the real world, rather than in a work of fiction. The reader can decide whether or not an action is moral, but that one person's decision is not the ultimate marker of morality.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Which Pronouns?
Q&A Question #2: Is it appropriate to use “he”, “she”, and “who” to describe characters? Ought we instead to use “it” and “that”?
The words we use to describe something can alter our perceptions of that thing. The example with which I am most familiar is in which words we use to describe animals; if I give my cat a name (Stormy) and say things about her like "she went outside" and "Stormy is a cat who likes to sleep", then these pronouns bolster my seeing her as an animal with personhood status. I am therefore more likely to treat her with the respect she deserves. If, however, I do not give my cat a name, say that "it went outside" etc., my perception will be altered so that I do not see my cat as a person, but rather as a thing to be treated however I like (as a side note, saying "my cat" does not necessarily imply ownership, any more than I own my grandmother or my boyfriend).
Let us now apply this phenomenon to characters in a literary work. I noticed that in "Fictional Characters as Abstract Artifacts," Amie Thomasson writes "a fictional character can go on existing without its author..." (145). Thomasson describes a character as an "it" rather than a "he" or "she". Since characters do not exist in the real world, do not suffer, do not have rights, etc., ought we to use "it" when describing them? I think that we indeed ought to whenever we are not trying to suspend our disbelief to become engrossed in a story. This will anchor our occasional perceptions of characters as real beings into a perception of characters as imaginary. Using "it" is not intuitive; we will naturally want to say "she" when describing Anna Karenina and "he" when describing Captain Ahab. I think, however, that purposefully saying "it" instead (especially during classroom discussions about characters) will remind us that we are not discussing real people.
The words we use to describe something can alter our perceptions of that thing. The example with which I am most familiar is in which words we use to describe animals; if I give my cat a name (Stormy) and say things about her like "she went outside" and "Stormy is a cat who likes to sleep", then these pronouns bolster my seeing her as an animal with personhood status. I am therefore more likely to treat her with the respect she deserves. If, however, I do not give my cat a name, say that "it went outside" etc., my perception will be altered so that I do not see my cat as a person, but rather as a thing to be treated however I like (as a side note, saying "my cat" does not necessarily imply ownership, any more than I own my grandmother or my boyfriend).
Let us now apply this phenomenon to characters in a literary work. I noticed that in "Fictional Characters as Abstract Artifacts," Amie Thomasson writes "a fictional character can go on existing without its author..." (145). Thomasson describes a character as an "it" rather than a "he" or "she". Since characters do not exist in the real world, do not suffer, do not have rights, etc., ought we to use "it" when describing them? I think that we indeed ought to whenever we are not trying to suspend our disbelief to become engrossed in a story. This will anchor our occasional perceptions of characters as real beings into a perception of characters as imaginary. Using "it" is not intuitive; we will naturally want to say "she" when describing Anna Karenina and "he" when describing Captain Ahab. I think, however, that purposefully saying "it" instead (especially during classroom discussions about characters) will remind us that we are not discussing real people.
Emotional Responses to Fiction
I like Ralph Clark’s view (paraphrased by Susan Feagin) that “Emotional responses to art are the result of entertaining various counterfactual conditionals” (186). In other words, our emotional responses to literature come from imagining that same set of circumstances happening to yourself or to someone you know. This is a possible explanation for why fictional characters who are in a situation you have once found yourself in, or perhaps remind you of your father, are so much more emotionally potent.
Radford’s fifth solution objects this idea. He says that when we weep for Anna Karenina, “we weep for her” (174), not for the situation applied to any person. Since Anna Karenina does not exist, this is not an adequate solution to the problem of emotional response to literature. However, I disagree; I do not think the reader weeps for Anna Karenina. The reader knows she does not exist, can not suffer, and is therefore weeping out of empathy and an active imagination.
Radford’s fifth solution objects this idea. He says that when we weep for Anna Karenina, “we weep for her” (174), not for the situation applied to any person. Since Anna Karenina does not exist, this is not an adequate solution to the problem of emotional response to literature. However, I disagree; I do not think the reader weeps for Anna Karenina. The reader knows she does not exist, can not suffer, and is therefore weeping out of empathy and an active imagination.
Emotions in Role-Playing
Q&A Question #1: 1. What is the nature of emotion in role playing?
People sometimes assume a pretend role (e.g. in acting, role-playing games, etc.). How real the person feels in that pretend role depends on a few factors, including the verisimilitude of the situation, how well the person researches and develops that pretend role, how well the person can identify with the role, etc. Some people become very attached to their roles, will genuinely cry during emotional moments, or feel real anger when their character has been betrayed.
People who role play (as with authors) will speak about their characters as a separate person; e.g., when recounting an event in a role-playing game, one will say, "Darius went into the tavern..." rather than "I went into the tavern..." There is a distinction between the real person and the character they are portraying.
These roles, like characters in a work of fiction, do not exist in the real world.
Are there elements of role-playing when we read a work of fiction? Does the reader imagine herself as the protagonist, and get so caught up in the protagonist's life that their two lives become momentarily indistinguishable?
People sometimes assume a pretend role (e.g. in acting, role-playing games, etc.). How real the person feels in that pretend role depends on a few factors, including the verisimilitude of the situation, how well the person researches and develops that pretend role, how well the person can identify with the role, etc. Some people become very attached to their roles, will genuinely cry during emotional moments, or feel real anger when their character has been betrayed.
People who role play (as with authors) will speak about their characters as a separate person; e.g., when recounting an event in a role-playing game, one will say, "Darius went into the tavern..." rather than "I went into the tavern..." There is a distinction between the real person and the character they are portraying.
These roles, like characters in a work of fiction, do not exist in the real world.
Are there elements of role-playing when we read a work of fiction? Does the reader imagine herself as the protagonist, and get so caught up in the protagonist's life that their two lives become momentarily indistinguishable?
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