Imagination

I had a conversation tonight with someone who said, "If it isn't real, I don't see much point in talking about it." In this vein, fictional books or movies are things to be enjoyed but not explored, experienced the moment as an escape but not expanded upon or analyzed. And fictional characters, like those I create for my pieces, are just pointless and boring distractions.

Which brings up a good question: is it worth spending time on the imaginary? What does it do for us? Surely, getting to know a fictional character and thinking through her motivations and feelings doesn't do as much for us as getting to know a "real" person.

Or does it?

I would argue that contemplating fiction, whether in the form of a book or an opera, is more than just a moment of escape. Rather, I agree with those who say it teaches us about our own humanity. It is a way to experience emotions, to develop empathy.

David Schickler wrote a novel titled Kissing in Manhattan. In this book, he describes a man who becomes a priest because God is the only being who can stand the priest thinking about Him all the time. Mortals and animals become uncomfortable under the intensity of his piercing gaze and penetrating mind.

To me, fictional characters are the other beings who can stand us thinking about them all the time. We can explore Ophelia's madness, question her actions and words at length without worrying about offending or tiring her. There are no lines to cross as there would be even with a very close friend. We see some of her private moments, and we get a full sampling of her dialogue with others. There are no wrong assumptions about the moments we don't see. And in her truth, we catch a glimpse of what grief looks like and what unhappy madness could be.

Fiction and imagination are not wastes of time; rather, they are sometimes the most efficient gateway to understanding the span of humanity.

But maybe that's just me.

~Hope