I wrote a variation of this article for my Medium account called “Befriending the reader.” Here, there are similar themes with a focus on philosophy.
This was written with a magazine in mind, but it was slightly off-theme. I focus on the reality created by the writer and the reader.
Philosophy
Through my studies, I had to immerse myself in papers written by philosophers who were friends in real life. Imagine my surprise when I discovered they were fighting through articles. Whether it was sarcastic comments or well structure essays such as Quine, in his famous one called “Two Dogmas of empiricism,” the girls were fighting. The back and forth were fascinating. Most of the times, the scholars disputed every claim identified as dubious, whether they came from friends or foes.
For instance, doing his best to understand his colleagues’ propositions, Quine made a tedious analysis of some given semantic rules to explain some complex technical terms. In Western philosophy, Quine is famous for his dispute of the separation between an analytic proposition and a synthetic one. “Analytic” corresponds to a sentence that takes its truth value (either false or true) within its own meaning.
“All bachelors are unmarried men” is a classic example of such a sentence The term “bachelor” refers solely to an unmarried man, making the sentence analytical. You do not need to verify in the world whether there are married bachelors. The word itself contains the meaning and the conditions establishing what it encompasses and what it does not. A synthetic sentence, on the contrary, would need to be confronted with the real world. To confirm the sentence “every tall man is unmarried,” we would need to verify whether there is a tall, married man.
This distinction exists since Kant’s time, at least, and is a central element of analytical philosophy. Quine argued against this distinction, calling the technical term “dubious” and vague in its nature, because we use language to study sentences. He offered the famous example, « Creatures which possess a heart, also possess kidneys. » The meaning of the sentence is straightforward. But does it contain the truth value in itself? Is the sentence analytic or synthetic? There could be other worlds where such a sentence is not true. For instance, there could be an alien race, with only one heart and no kidneys. The truth of the sentences is contingent on the law of biology on earth, but not necessarily of every biological law which exists. Moreover, things could have been different, and we simply do not know about other laws. The importance is the contingent aspect of synthetic propositions. And the seemingly analytic sentence had thus synthetic proprieties.
In his famous paper, Quine presented his carefully crafted arguments and made several analyses using other philosophers’ suggestions to resolve the issue. As Quine already knew, it would lead nowhere. By the end of a chapter, and out of frustration, he offered to “just stop tugging at our bootstraps.” Instead of doing these misguided analyses, philosophers should refute the existence of a distinction between analytic and synthetic sentences.
According to Quine, his fellow philosophers, including his own mentor, should give up their willingness to follow what he called a dogma of empiricism (Quine, 1951, p.p. 36 The French translation of his article is even more representative of what it can feel to read some philosophical articles on the subject. It illustrates perfectly the circularity of using language as the tool to study language and meaning; in lieu of bootstrap, the translator suggested philosophers should stop trying to “elevate themselves by pulling on their own hair.” This is a humorous homage to the legend of the baron of Munchhausen, who may have done this to avoid drowning in a river with his horse. I personally would not dare to write such sentence.
Thus, for philosophers and academics, even friendship is not a barrier to make severe criticism. They value truth and rigorous study above anything. It does not mean they are unkind. Simply, they will not back down if they believe in their own analysis and have the mean to prove their case. Friends and mentors’ arguments and theories are as worthy of scrutiny, and even more so than someone they do not admire. Criticism can even be seen as high praise; the work has been read, analyzed and deeply pondered.
Now, why am I telling this story? This is not a strictly philosophical essay. This historical detour leads us to the key tool of this essay, the fictional record and the characteristic of a good friendship. Then we will move to the last part of my argument; the advantages a writer possesses when he or she befriend his audience.
Since philosophers have been our companion until here, we will continue to take lessons from them by mentioning papers on language and fiction. Many articles on the subject asked: what makes a proposition “fiction,” and not an elaborate lie? Inspired by the reading of the philosopher Stokke (2023) and his paper “Fictional record,” we can see what an author does when he or she writes a tale.
Assertoric proposition
An assertoric proposition is the telling of a fact; if you tell your spouse, “I ate toasts for breakfast,” your spouse can compare your assertion with the outside world. If they know you did not have any bread at home, they can question you about it. If you have a convincing story to tell, like “I bought some while walking the dog,” then your assertoric proposition can remain a fact about the world. The truth-value is preserved.
The simplest difference between an assertoric proposition, which is a logical statement about a fact and not a judgment, and a fictional one, is the existence of what is called a “fictional record”. When reading a story, people gain knowledge about the fictional world, the state of relationships, and affairs through the testimony of the author. Everyone knows that when a character named John is walking through Piccadilly Street in London, on April 21st, 2024, it does not truly mean that this character really existed outside of the page they’re reading.
A fiction is not an assertoric proposition about the world, even if the story happens during modern time. It is an assertion about the fictional world the writer created. If there are any inconsistencies within the story, the reader can look through what is called the fictional record.
“How can he be in Piccadilly Street at 15 o’clock, when he was just boarding the plane in New York, at 13 o’clock?” We are investigators in our own right, carefully studying events and making mental notes. Therefore, the authors better not take any easy road to end an intrigue.
There are some exceptions to this rule. In semi-autobiographical story, for instance, how can one know if a certain anecdote is true or not? When we read the words on a page, nothing in the language can truly give us a hint into how fictitious the situation is and whether the plot is man-made. Not the syntax, not the words, not the choice of police. There are virtually no differences between a “true statement” and a fictitious one.
Stokke speaks about the fictional force, or the non-assertoric propositions made by authors of fiction. Writers and storytellers assert false facts regarding their correspondence events in the real world. They will tell you that the dragon roared and broke his chains, when in fact no such things exist. But they will state something with fictional force, making you understand if it’s true within the world they built.
These facts remain true within the fictional record, and readers must keep track of what is told. This will help readers decipher complex plot-twists and mysteries. That is the difference between a baldface-lie and fiction; the intent of the speaker is different. It is more than simply asking you to imagine a world where dragons exist and roar. It is telling you, the reader, that in this alternative earth, dragons exist, and they roar.
The evidence for the existence of a “fictional record” is multiple; have you ever been unconvinced by a story? Or ever told yourself how a behavior does not fit the character you got to know so well? Whether it is a cruel act by a gentle character, a missed appointment by a dedicated father, some things only advance the plot crafted by the author. As readers, we are very aware of the fictional record, and the fictional force can fail spectacularly when it does not respect the reality within the book. However, the goal of the authors is never to make you believe something untrue about the story, contrary to a liar. Writers are like friends, sharing the latest news with the highest fidelity.
A good friendship is a give and take; the writer offers a tale; the reader offers their time and their loyalty. When you build enough trust, they will come back, make others read your book, and keep on investing their precious time in your reality.
Conclusion
A good author guides along a story and tells it well. It does not make a false detour and does not lead you astray. It used the fictional force and the fictional record, to tell you about the world the way it truly is. If you’re an author, do not deceive your audience. If you are a reader, learn to identify who’s a good teller and do not waste your time with pretenders. Reality is created together through fictional records, and trust is at its center.



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