Before and After Purpose

Matthew Arnold once wrote, “Style is having something to say, and saying it clearly.” And it’s hard to disagree. But for writers of science fiction and fantasy—or really any sort of fiction—it’s not the whole story. This is because “saying something clearly” is only possible after you’ve created a believable world.

So before writers can speak of ethics or morals or lessons—or really anything they want their readers to “take away” from their books—they must first satisfy the requirements of epistemology (or, “how do we know what we know”?). 

Before writers can speak of ethics or morals or lessons, or really anything they want their readers to “take away” from their books, they must first satisfy the requirements of epistemology (or, “how do we know what we know?”). 

Novelists must conjure a spell that places their readers in a kind of trace, which in turns, allows them to get their points across. But how do you do that, practically speaking?

Consider, what is the purpose of reading literature?

Put simply, it make us feel less alone.

Humans are complex animals. The poet Walt Whitman made this point most succinctly when he wrote, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large. I contain multitudes).” So it doesn’t matter if we’re reading for entertainment or edification, we pick up a book to commune in the complexity of our shared humanity.

In other words, we don’t want simplicity, because we don’t see that in ourselves. 

Every great author throughout history has cast this kind of spell on their readers—they have conjured believable worlds. The creation of this illusion of authenticity is essential to accomplish the purpose of literature, which is, again, this sense of communion, or shared understanding.

Among all art forms, literature is uniquely capable of expressing the inner life of a character. Film, TV, and photography can’t do this; painting can’t either, and neither can music. This ability to stop time and go into the mind of the character is what makes literature special. As writers, this is our advantage.

Part of the unwritten agreement between the author and the reader is that the reader knows the author is speaking to them. Indeed, an intrinsic property of books—almost their defining quality—is their ability to make the reader a direct witness to the mind of the author. 

You might have the most profound, poetic thoughts. But if your reader doesn’t believe in the world you’ve built, then you’re toast. Only after the reader believes what is being described is really happening, can any moral have any kind of effect.