This topical, lively and wide-ranging book examines the material conditions under which the contemporary English novel is produced and consumed. Its starting point is the general economic emergency which showed up these conditions with unusual clarity in the early 1970s. The first section of the book, 'Crisis and Change', considers the changing patterns of institutional book-purchase, inflation and novel-production, the 'Americanisation' of the British book trade, and the present state of fiction reviewing. The second section, 'State Remedies', surveys such interventions, and failed interventi
Telling fictional stories and engaging with the fictional stories of others is an important and pervasive part of human culture. But people not only tell and engage with fictional stories. They also reflect on the content of stories, and on the way these are told. Grappling with the many issues such reflection uncovers has long been a concern of professional academics in language departments and other academic programs with a focus on language. Philosophers should be included on this list. The concept of fiction gives rise to a number of intriguing and complex philosophical issues, and the philosophy of fiction has now become an acknowledged part of mainstream philosophy, with a history that goes back at least to the early debates about the role of poets and dramatists found in the works of Aristotle and Plato. The issues in question broadly relate to fiction as a mode of representation—a way of describing individuals and events—that is strikingly different from representation concerned with truth, the latter long a dominant theme in philosophy. Not only is faithfulness to truth in the ordinary sense not a requirement in fiction; fiction may even depart from truth in the things it talks about, which typically include nonexistent individuals and even members of nonexistent kinds (Holmes and hobbits, for example)—see the entry on fictional entities. There are also more indirect reasons for taking fiction seriously as a philosophical topic. The last few decades have seen a surge of interest in interpreting prominent yet (arguably) philosophically problematic areas of enquiry—areas as far apart as mathematics and morality—as involving something akin to fiction, a position known as fictionalism about those areas. On such views, we should not believe the central claims of the area because of their commitment to entities like numbers and objective moral facts; instead we should treat them the way we treat a distinctively fictional claim like "Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective": something we know not to be literally true (after all, there never was a Sherlock Holmes) but accept as true in some derivative or at least nonliteral sense (unlike "Holmes was a plodding policeman", say). The continuing rise of fictionalism presents us with a new reason for treating fiction as a significant philosophical topic, since it is a position that is difficult to motivate independently of an understanding of what is distinctive about fiction (Armour-Garb and Woodbridge 2015). (For more on fictionalism and its ties to fiction, see the entry on fictionalism.) One fundamental question raised by the notion of fiction is a conceptual one: What makes something a work of fiction as opposed to a work of non-fiction? A first attempt at saying what fiction is might portray it as a kind of writing whose product is a written text (a work of fiction) that misrepresents how the world actually is, although not in order to deceive intended readers. This opposes it to non-fiction; even if a work of non-fiction misrepresents the world, it is not intended by its author to be recognized as something that misrepresents the world. It doesn't take much to see that this rough characterization is in fact far too rough. A work of fiction needn't be a written text, but could be a picture (or series of pictures) or a representation in some other medium like film. And the characterization lets in too much: a newspaper article attacking some political position by engaging in the relentless use of irony, say, is not a work of fiction but a work of non-fiction that uses irony. The problem of saying how fiction differs from non-fiction is just one of the hard problems faced by the philosophical study of fiction. Another problem is that of specifying the sense in which a fictional sentence can be true despite misdescribing how matters stand in the world. (A sentence like "Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective", for example, is not true if it is construed as a claim about brilliant detectives our world has known, but counts as true if it is stated as an answer to a quiz question "Who was Sherlock Holmes?" By contrast, "Sherlock Holmes was a plodding policeman" would count as false in this context.) But in what sense can the sentence be true, given that the world does not contain any such person as Sherlock Holmes? One promising thought is that when we hear the sentence as genuinely true we regard it as elliptical for something like "In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective". On this suggestion it is the truth of the latter prefixed sentence that provides the sense in which "Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective" counts as true. But even if this is right, what still needs explaining is what it is for such a prefixed sentence to be true. What makes "In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective" true (but not "In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a plodding policeman"), when there never was such a person as Sherlock Holmes? In addition to the problem of how to understand the notion of truth in a work of fiction, there is also a deep puzzle about the way we respond emotionally to such truths. When we engage with fiction, we often do so at a highly specific emotional level—we may not only be enthralled by elements of the plot but also affected by what befalls particular characters. Thus, we may find ourselves feeling pity for Anna Karenina as we near the end of Tolstoy's novel because we are aware of Anna's suffering. But the claim that we pity Anna Karenina is deeply puzzling: we know there is no Anna Karenina, and that it is only true in Tolstoy's novel that Anna Karenina is suffering, so how can there be genuine pity for Anna? This is the so-called paradox of fiction, one of a batch of puzzles that have been raised in the philosophy of fiction about our engagement with works of fiction. These are by no means the only philosophical questions thrown up by fiction. In fact, the paradox of fiction immediately suggests others. Taken at face value, a statment like "Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective" seems at best to be true in a work of fiction rather than true outright. By contrast, a statement like "Many readers pity Anna Karenina" seems to be true outright. (The same goes for other statements relating fictional characters to the real world, for example "Conan Doyle created Holmes", "Frodo doesn't exist", and "Holmes is more famous than any real detective".) This raises the thorny issue of the ontological commitments of talk involving fiction. If it is genuinely true that many readers feel pity for Anna Karenina or that Doyle created Holmes, then presumably there are things—Anna Karenina and Holmes—about whom this is true. But how is the claim that there are such objects consistent with the obvious truth that Holmes and Anna Karenina don't exist? And what could such nonexistent objects be like? We leave detailed commentary on such ontological and metaphysical questions to the entry on fictional entities. The present entry is devoted to the nature of fiction and its "truths", including our emotional engagement with these truths—topics that can be discussed independently of whether one is a realist or an antirealist about fictional entities. Before we begin, it is worth noting that the study of these topics is not the province of philosophers alone. Just what is fiction, for example, is a question that also engages narratologists and historians of fiction (see, e.g., Gallagher 2006, Walsh 2007), although they approach the issue from different academic perspectives, often with somewhat different aims in mind. The present entry focuses mainly on the work of philosophers.
In: Hansen , K T 2009 , ' Fictions of Ambivalence : Social Uneasiness and Violence in Crime Fiction ' , Paper presented at Violence and the Contexts of Hostility , Budapest , Hungary , 04/05/2009 - 07/05/2009 .
Scandinavian crime fiction is recurrently concerned with the conditions and violent interruptions of democracy and the welfare state. Henning Mankell's Wallander-series seems predominantly preoccupied by the disturbance of this idyllic scenery by violent acts. Something seems to be afoot and the Scandinavian welfare society seems to be suffering. The upper current in Henning Mankell's stories show an idyllic manifestation disrupted by an undercurrent of "Swedish uneasiness". Although democracy and social maintenance seem to be running well, underneath a violent anxiety dislocates the basic preconditions of a democratic welfare system. Different models present various ways of analyzing these currencies of idyllic scenery and violent cruelty, which is very present in Before the Frost , both novel and film – the revolving points in this paper. The undercurrent of unease might be a cultural unconscious of suppressed guilt and anxiety, or it can be dealt with as a general way of delivering social critique through fiction. Nevertheless, the order of society and the democratic scenery is, in the narrative, muddled by religious problems with Christian roots. Correspondingly, this paper reflects upon the violent disruption of democracy and the ambivalent characteristics of both violence, the police officer Wallander and democracy.
Dans un contexte où la demande d'informations concernant les activités des services de renseignement ne cesse de croître, et où la ligne de démarcation entre réalité et fiction semble constamment brouillée, les fictions d'espionnage répondent à une double exigence : la prétendue mise en visibilité de ces acteurs de l'ombre, dont l'opacité structurelle met au défi le principe démocratique de publicité ; leur dissimulation plus efficace, sous couvert de mise en transparence. Plus que de simples miroirs, qui reflèteraient de façon plus ou moins réaliste un monde autrement inaccessible, elles sont une condition du secret en démocratie.
Science fiction is the playground of the imagination. If you are interested in science or fascinated with the future then science fiction is where you explore new ideas and let your dreams and nightmares duke it out on the safety of the page or screen. But what if we could use science fiction to do more than that? What if we could use science fiction based on science fact to not only imagine our future but develop new technologies and products? What if we could use stories, movies and comics as a kind of tool to explore the real world implications and uses of future technologies today?
In this thesis I build narratives to reflect on another form of history. I offer a cultural dialogue and critique through intersecting stories about Mexico. I propose a writing process as an alternative historical reading that highlights the invisible characters that are the real actors in communities, those who work from the social necessities of dignity, health, and education. This thesis is a close review of texts, speeches, narratives, and poetry that approach real social events through a fictional form. I develop socially relevant cases - epigraphs - that explore ideas of cultural "reinvention," examining, exposing, and imagining new forms of democracy, work, profit, alternatives to making a living, health and organization. Through the fragment, I weave the fiction that is being written from Mexico. I am posing these narratives as an alternative effort to rebuild society. The thesis gives form to the word "Fiction" as movements that play beyond social positions in an effort to change a way of life through text. Experimental models between the possible and the real help us to think of other ways or possibilities. Fiction is developed as a result of a conflict in the words of Rancière. Dreamers in action dream of better worlds through Fiction.
Recent studies of the legislative process have questioned the rationales for many principles of statutory interpretation. One of those traditional rationales is the so-called fiction of legislative omniscience, understood to underpin many judicial approaches to statutory decisions. This Article presents the first comprehensive analysis of judicial assertions about legislative awareness and proposes a new way to understand them. The proposed perspective compares fictions of legislative omniscience with similar but more widely accepted imputations of knowledge in other areas of law; it also draws on recent findings from other disciplines regarding how we use and respond to statements about fictional states of affairs. The comparisons indicate that judges' imputations of unrealistic knowledge to legislatures are best seen not as unfair demands, but as important parts of the story judges typically tell about the law in our legal system, according to which the legislature and judiciary play complementary roles in pursuit of compatible goals. Rather than impairments of judicial legitimacy, these imputations are descriptions of the necessarily aspirational grounds of legal legitimacy.