Friday, July 29, 2011
Fiction Friday: Does Fiction Fuel Discontent?
It took me aback. How else are we to experience the sigh-worthy experiences that we'll never run into while shopping at Target or driving the minivan? Where else are we to find that warm, satisfying inspiration that makes us love everyone around us just a little more than before? How can we know anything beyond our limited existance if we don't step into other shoes through fiction? And aren't we repeatedly told to foster a love for reading into our kids from the time they are conceived?
Yet, it gave me pause. How often has a wife read a book featuring a hero with impossibly good looks, muscles upon muscles, fierce protective instincts that have him always arriving in the nick of time to save the heroine from the kidnapper holding a gun or the spider crawling along the floor, yet tender enough to shed a tear as he expresses the depth of his love . . . and then closed the book, looked at her real-life husband and thought "if only"?
I can see a point here. It could set up a standard that is just as impossible to reach for real-life men as the airbrushed photos of surgically-enhanced women are for us to match. Is there an in-between, a personal balance?
I have some thoughts on this, but I'd like to hear yours. What do you think?