In talking with a friend about the two most recent books I read (see previous post) and how much reading fiction impacts my life, I realized I should discuss this more. I believe in fiction, I believe in the power of stories and connections and the capacity that fiction has to bring us all together and help us with compassion and empathy. I understand the need for non-fiction, I really do! I read plenty of that as well, and find a nice neat shelf in my brain to store all of those nice, neat little facts, arguments and checklists (subtle shoutout to Atul Gawande for his great work). I am better for what I have learned from non-fiction. I finally realized that being and introvert was not only normal but actually great. I understand the reality of decision fatigue, and how incredibly powerful the placebo effect is. I have greatly benefited from the science behind anxiety and how I can use that to make my days better. I loved learning all about how Sweetgrass grows much better if it's harvested, speaking to our place on this planet, and how an Octopus may just be the smartest creature in the ocean. I appreciate non-fiction for showing me the reality of the justice system in Alabama today and I have a stronger marriage because of the wonderful Sarah Napthali and her work on Buddhisim and Marriage. But these works, these facts and figures and sentences with footnotes and bibliographies that are sometimes longer than the actual text (I'm looking at you, Sam Harris!), they are interesting in a cerebral and heady way. A scratch your chin and look up and to the right kind of "hummm," sort of way. Not so with fiction. Not even close with fiction.
The real beauty of fiction is that you cannot pick out a book for any specific reason. You cannot wander through the isles, let your fingers drag along the spines and decide what you're going to read (and by default what you're going to learn) about. No sir. Fiction has a mind of it's own. Well, really, fiction uses your own, already working 24/7 mind to come up with all sorts of things that you aren't really focused on, consciously anyway. Still not buying it? Well, just take the last two books I read, What Alice Forgot and Dark Matter. Good old Alice is categorized as 'Women's Fiction' and Dark Matter is Science Fiction at it's best. these two books would never sit side by side in any catalog, book shelf or required reading list (my Goodreads feed may be the only place, ever they've existed side by side! Or in this version of the multiverse anyway). The great thing about fiction is that these two books, these two vastly different set of characters and plot lines, they tell the same story! To me at least, their messages were so similar it honestly made me shiver. The importance of decision making and consciously leaning into choices in a mindful and intentional way is the main take away from both of these worlds. I also understand String Theory in a way that is only possible through story. Rest assured, I couldn't read any non-fiction on the multiverse and understand it to 1/10th the degree that it was brought to life for me as I followed Jason from one strand to another and watched him watch himself in another reality. Sound confusing? It's mind boggling, but I didn't sleep for two nights after I finished it because I understood String Theory so well that the vastness and implications drove me down into a long and very dark hole for a bit. I had to actually distance myself from the idea quite intentionally because it could have made me, literally, go crazy.
Fiction is the nitty gritty, the real and the raw parts of life that we like to skim over in intellectual conversations. Fiction lets us see each other in ways that matter on a daily basis. We root for the child with dyslexia, instead of wanting her disciplined, because we feel her struggle (Fish in a Tree) and we talk about how it would feel to be so different from the other kids. We see how gender roles have boxed us into corners where we feel uncomfortable (The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate) and have discussion around if things have changed today. Fiction breeds discussion because we don't all get the same exact thing out of one story. Feeling the struggle between being African-American and African in America was something I was not aware of until I walked next to the shoes of a recent immigrant (Americanah). The seamless intertwining of religion and tradition into life (Outlander) was made real for me and I now have someone to look up to when I bump into uncomfortable places. We all percolate thoughts in our minds constantly and heaven knows we've all got different ideas about most things. Fiction gives us a common language through which to have these rich and thought provoking discussions. I've read books around World War II from the point of view of so many sides (Japanese Kamikaze pilot included) I feel like I have a good understanding of the human toll, much more than I ever would have gotten from the facts presented in non-fiction. One book read by many people gives them some ground from which to launch all sorts of new ways to solve problems and different angles with which to come at life. Fiction whips us forward and backward though time and space and forces us to see the filth of 1900's New York City (Brooklyn, Triangle) and the violence of 1740's Scotland (Outlander, yes again). We can be propelled into other worlds but still face common problems because they're human problems whether we're in Michigan or Mordor (The Lord of the Rings). Fiction shows us how to summon courage in a patronis, how to navigate friendships and how to age gracefully (Harry Potter). But fiction does it all while also allowing us to hide under invisibility cloaks, fly on broomsticks, travel along the chimneys of London using floo powder, touch a stone and be transported into another time or take up a bow and arrow and inspire a revolution. We get to try on characters and see how it would feel to be someone else, to live in another time, to fight, to win, to loose, to be sick or in a dangerous relationship without actually putting skin in the game.
I read to my girls for about 45 minutes every night and I audibly sighed with relief to hear a teacher suggest I was supposed to continue reading aloud to them though "middle school, at a minimum." I dread the day when we don't have a common story in our home.
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