The Storytelling Animal

The chapter begins with a father and his daughter, Lily, shopping for cereal in a grocery store. The father, engaged in a mundane decision about which cereal to buy, is reminded of the simple joys of parenting as he interacts with his daughter, who enthusiastically participates in the shopping. The father, distracted by the contents of the cereal box, realizes that Lily has disappeared and notes the presence of a suspicious man wearing a red cap.

This story exemplifies how even ordinary settings can transform into scenes filled with tension and danger. Similarly, fairy tales and nursery rhymes often depict safe environments that suddenly become treacherous. The narrative shifts to a hypothetical alternative where the father and daughter have a more lighthearted interaction over the cereal choice and happily return home, showcasing how the same scenario can be told in vastly different ways—one fraught with danger, and the other filled with familial bliss.

Mind the Gap

The two hypothetical scenarios involving a father and his daughter at a grocery store illustrate the central thesis that while people generally desire peace and predictability in their lives, they are drawn to stories that contain conflict, danger, and complexity. Fiction is often seen as a form of escapism, but it tends to immerse its audience in narratives that are far from the idyllic escapades one might expect if the primary objective were to escape reality. Instead, storytelling frequently involves significant challenges, struggles, and even terror.

The chapter argues that if fiction were purely about escapism, stories would consistently feature scenarios where desires are met without conflict. However, most fiction is quite the opposite, populated with significant strife and challenges. Aristotle noted that fiction is pleasurable despite—or perhaps because of—its often-troubling content.

A Mirror of Life?

The chapter discusses Hyperrealist fiction, which aims to portray life in its most mundane and realistic form. The example of a middle-aged man at his office desk, struggling with the tedium of his work, reflects an extreme form of Realism that shows life exactly as it is. Hyperrealist fiction contrasts with traditional storytelling, which tends to remove the mundane to focus on the compelling aspects of life. Hyperrealist fiction, however, includes these mundane details as a deliberate choice to reflect reality as accurately as possible. Such fiction is often perceived as dull and uninteresting.

The chapter mentions George Gissing’s 1891 novel New Grub Street, where a character writes a Hyperrealist novel that is intentionally dull, focusing on the mundane life of a grocer. This novel reflects on the challenges and impacts of Hyperrealism in literature—it can be seen as artistically pure but often isn’t engaging or enjoyable for readers. The chapter argues that while Hyperrealist fiction can be a valuable experiment in showing what fiction is not, it generally fails to capture and retain audience interest because it lacks the essential narrative elements that make stories engaging, such as conflict and dramatic tension.

A Universal Grammar

That fiction inherently revolves around conflict and trouble is a concept now widely accepted and taught across English literature courses and in writing guides like Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction. This idea posits that in literature, unlike in real life, conflict is essential because it drives the narrative and engages the audience. Across cultures and epochs, fiction involves characters facing significant obstacles as they strive to achieve their desires, encapsulated in the formula: “Story = Character + Predicament + Attempted Extrication” (52).

This universal structure of storytelling might seem limiting. However, like the human face, which varies slightly yet remains fundamentally similar across individuals, stories too can be unique and captivating despite their structural similarities.

Over the past century, some authors have challenged traditional narrative structures, striving for innovation in storytelling. The Modernist Movement, exemplified by works like James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, attempted to break away from conventional storytelling, which typically follows a clear pattern of complication, crisis, and resolution. Despite the brilliance of such experimental works, they often fail to resonate with broader audiences due to their complex and unconventional narrative techniques, which prioritize artistic rebellion over engaging, coherent storytelling.

This universal narrative structure suggests that storytelling is ingrained in human psychology, possibly as an evolutionary adaptation to shape and be shaped by narrative forms that address universal human predicaments like love, death, and power. These themes dominate storytelling because they reflect the core challenges and experiences of human life.

The Hero Dies in Our Stead

Navy fighter pilots must land heavy, explosive-laden jets on a short, moving runway on an aircraft carrier. This dangerous task requires extensive practice in simulators to avoid real-world catastrophes. Similarly, human social interactions can be complex and high-stakes, requiring a form of practice that literature and stories provide.

Stories function like social simulators, where individuals can engage in emotional experiences and navigate complex social dynamics without real-world risks. This concept is supported by evolutionary thinkers like Brian Boyd and Steven Pinker, who suggest that fiction serves as a practice ground for developing essential social skills. Novelist Keith Oatley describes stories as “the flight simulators of human social life” (58), allowing people to experience and manage social challenges safely.

The use of fiction for this purpose aligns with older justifications for the arts, suggesting that literature offers low-cost, vicarious experiences that help people prepare for real-life interactions. For example, HBO’s sitcom Curb Your Enthusiasm demonstrates the pitfalls of social misunderstandings, serving as a complex example of how fiction mirrors and prepares individuals for social realities. While stories entertain, they also function as a safe rehearsal space for managing life’s social intricacies.

To Simulate Is to Do

The section explains how fiction simulates social interaction, akin to how flight simulators prepare pilots for actual flying. The discovery of mirror neurons supports this argument; these neurons activate not only when we perform an action but also when we observe the same action performed by others. This neural mechanism allows us to experience and understand others’ emotions deeply.

This simulation through fiction is beneficial because it allows us to engage in complex social interactions and emotional experiences without real-world consequences. Stories provoke real physiological responses in us, such as increased heart rate or sweating during intense scenes, demonstrating that our brains process fictional scenarios as if they were real.

Scientists have further explored this concept by examining how individuals respond to fiction on a neuronal level. For instance, brain imaging studies have shown that watching a film or reading a story can activate the same emotional processing areas of the brain as if the events were actually happening to the viewer or reader. This suggests that engaging with fiction can enhance social and empathic skills, a view supported by studies indicating that people who read fiction frequently tend to have better social abilities than those who read mainly nonfiction.