Fiction is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it helps us see the world around us with new eyes, letting us live a thousand lives and yet remain ourselves (to paraphrase C.S. Lewis). Fiction allows us to peer into another’s mind, to confront situations vicariously and observe the consequences without having to experience them ourselves.
And yet fiction isn’t perfect. I’m thinking primarily of fictional romances — most of the time they’re not realistic, and yet we often expect them precisely because they’re what we’ve seen in movies (which I’m counting as fiction) and read in books. Prince Charming doesn’t exist. Neither does the princess. What we do have is a lot of ordinary people, like you and me, who are trying to do the best they can. (Well, most of them are. :))
So fiction raises false expectations. Is this bad? Potentially, but at the same time I think it can raise us to higher levels as well. It’s because of fiction that I try to become a Prince Charming (or a Darcy or a Knightley or what have you). Sure, I fall short, but at least I have an ideal to reach for.
If this post seems a bit muddled, it’s because I’m in the middle of stir-frying my brain as I prepare for finals. :)

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