Truth and fact are two words that seem synonymous initially. However, in thinking over these words it seems they operate at different semiotic levels. At a surface level, fact is set in stone. It is not changeable, it is the reality of the situation. Truth is a little more subjective. The meaning is a little more idiosyncratic. Something can be true without being a fact.
For example, look at the scandals brewing around a few of Oprah’s book selections, mainly the latest Angel at the Fence. Author Herman Rosenblat wrote of his time in a concentration camp and of meeting his now wife from opposite sides of the fence. In truth only about 40% of his story checks out, according to the investigative reporter taking credit for the find. In fact, once news broke and he admitted to how little of his story was accurate the book was pulled from shelves and discontinued. If this book was published as fiction or even historical fiction a controversy never would have arisen. What is interesting to me about this is the reliance on truth as being fact and fiction as being imagined.
Closely related to the division between truth and fact is the subject of myth. Commonly understood to be the stories of ancient Greek gods or the mythology of some obscure people groups, myths are quite common and can relate to any set of words in which a meaning is attributed. We carry personal mythologies about our experiences and relationships, making the events we participate in more concrete and satisfying.
What is strange about myth is that it is outside the boundaries of fact and fiction. We live by myths recognizing them as not “factual” but partially true, or culturally important. An apple a day will not keep the doctor away, but eating vegetables and fruit will go a long way towards healthy living. Working hard does not always mean you will succeed, but it is a good step in the right direction.
Roland Barthes once said, “Myth is neither a lie nor a confession: it is an inflection.” It makes me wonder, are we looking for a deeper expression of being alive by living vicariously through those who have experienced unimaginable circumstances? Is the day-to-day a dream world of repetition leaving fantastic circumstances as the only real world around us? Perhaps the experiences of a “hero” allow for the inflection of reality we crave - the hero’s story gives meaning to our personal circumstances.
According to some researchers, our brains have not evolved, or adapted to understand media such as television, and even to a lesser degree, books. For all intents and purposes what we see, read, and hear is to us real. Why do we get emotional or aroused at sights and scenes in movies? We know it isn’t real. But do we really know it isn’t real?
Why does it matter if it is factual? Isn’t the deeper meaning of a story of love and survival the love and survival of the characters? Is it, for entertainment’s sake, important to know if the details are completely true, or is the idea of the story the part that we need and are desperately looking for? If a story gives hope to people who have in many ways given up on ancient mythologies, is that hope then factual rather than fictional? If a story becomes part of a cultural consciousness, is it then true even if the details don’t match up?
In this sense religion takes a strange position. Taken more to claims of absolute inerrancy then the spirit of a text, it seems we do not want to believe something unless we can believe in it as testable and provable - even in questions of divinity. The Evangelical Christian doctrine of scriptural inerrancy is a perfect example. In order to counter claims of historical criticism and evolutionary development, a hard line approach was taken. The text has in some ways been reduced to a set of defined standards and convictions rather than a living, breathing document. How much of the mystery and meaning is lost in the pursuit of testable and provable theorems?
What we have lost in the era of investigative journalism and scientific determinism is the ability to see outside of the fact/fiction dichotomy. The myth is understood to be simply fiction placed into categories for easy consumption by literary students and scholars. But what if we looked at Rosenblat’s story from another direction. What if the book should be published under the banner of a myth as a third category of literature? It may or may not be true yet the ideas presented are human and necessary.
What is more important - to prove something as historically inaccurate and defend the claim to the death or indugle in the very human act of experience and of finding meaning?
Interesting.
I wonder, what exactly do you mean by investigative journalism and the age of empirically-driven determinism clouding our ability to see beyond the fact-fiction dichotomy? It would seem like the issues concerning Rosenblat’s fiction shows just the opposite. And is myth really outside the boundary of fact and fiction or somewhere in the middle where neither can be proven? Myths to me are stories that have some foundation of truth, but have become fantastical through time and culture.
I think the issue with Rosenblat wasn’t so much about the relationship between truth and fact, but just truth in and of itself, and his lack of respect for literary standards. The thing is, people will pull (and indulge) in the human experiences within a story — fiction or nonfiction — however, the meaning they pull from various genres is not necessarily the same, which is why authors (and journalists) who mislead their readers are chastised when found lying — and rightly so.
For me, the experiences of a “hero” who is real resonates differently and provokes different thoughts/inflections, compared with one that is fictional. Neither is more valuable than the other, but different. Sometimes this is the reason I’ll choose nonfiction over fiction or vice versa.
I don’t necessarily think journalism and scientific determinism have limited our ability to see beyond that dichotomy. Myths are alive and strong. I think it’s important to maintain the distinction because while fiction, nonfiction and myths are all essentially telling a story (and the humanness within them), their functions are inherently different, as well as the subsequent feelings and thoughts they inspire.
Is it more important to prove something historically inaccurate to death than it is to experience the meaning behind the story? I don’t think so. Though, I think it is important to maintain standards of truth so readers have the choice. Just my two cents. Maybe one and a half
Great read, though. Thanks for posting!
Chris, interesting thoughts, man. Thanks for the comment.
First off, my struggle with the idea begins with not the act of publishing under the fact/fiction banner but the concept of general extreme dualism. Over the last few years several autobiographical accounts have been subjected to rigorous questioning and found at fault – mainly Paul Rusesabagina’s “An Ordinary Man” and Ishmael Beah’s “A Long Way Home”. Both books are about roughly the same thing – the survival of individuals in the face of uncontrollable and adverse conditions. They are almost disaster films only dealing with people. Let me also say that I have no problem with investigative journalism at all. They are very important participants in our media.
Where I see the conflict is between these two parties. On one side you could have a story. A man is in a concentration camp. He survives. So he writes about it. On the other side, he did lie about some of the details – he never met his wife from opposite sides of the fence. In some literature this is not lying this is merely creating a story. The thing is, we are saturated with survival stories. We have heard of his real experience a thousand times and might have even met someone who survived. However, we are also desensitized by these stories. After dozens of movies pulling on our emotions, and hundreds of TV specials, it does not mean the same thing that it once did. This amazing circumstance has become almost normal to hear. There, strangely, is very little of a unique to tell. And if a story is normal, it cannot be myth. There is no additional meaning behind it.
When “An Ordinary Man” was still fresh on the shelves and was being read like mad a journalist found some errors in the book and about the story and started to release information about it. I was telling a friend of mine about this and they said, “wait, I don’t want to know. I want to believe its true.” That to me made me really think about the importance of this kind of story. We understand fiction to be fake and imagined. But what about books containing both real and imagined elements?
I think Oprah has a knack for finding a particular kind of book, one that will still get people to feel emotionally while under the banner of real experiences. This was the job of ancient mythology. A wise and respected teacher would tell a story or give a message that was true without being factual - stories of gods behaving like men under incredible circumstances. People believed in the Gods without “believing” as we would call it now. But belief was tied to something different than a factual history. Even history its self is a pretty abstract concept – and it took a long while for this idea to seep into western culture.
The hero does not exist. He/she is not a real person. Their circumstances HAVE to be outside of the boundaries of what is experienced by the masses – and when masses have gone through traumatic events, the stories have to be that much more fantastic in order to win our imagination.
I agree, though, standards of truth should be maintained. So what do we do with half fact half fiction tales? Is it fair to call them fiction if they are half true? Its not fair to call them fact if they are partially fictional. This is the dualism that is all pervasive in American culture. Republican or Democrat, right or wrong, vegetarian or omnivore, true or false… Chinese and Japanese culture had a better way of dealing with this dualism problem. If something was not either yes or no it was “mu” in Japanese or “wu” in Chinese, which meant something like “outside of the realm of the options”. These sort of books are neither fact nor fiction, they are mu – outside of the boundaries of the given options.
Final thoughts: Oprah is 1) a psuedosage (you heard it here first… lol) and 2) going to see this continue to happen because of the type of book she is inspired by and encouraged to distribute. These stories are only great if they are truly impossible.
My usual lengthy response. I’m like this offline as well.
Thanks for the discussion, Rob.
Final thought: Oprah is mu
(I think a kitten just died somewhere and a galaxy imploded)
Haha! Oprah is mu. I want that on a t-shirt. Nicely done.