R: Fiction Is Useless Stillness

Though it is the admirable individual who takes the time to do non-academic reading during the semester, especially at this time of year where more words are typed on the computer than read, we all know the sublime feeling of a good and pleasant read. Time itself can wait—we escape into a world not entirely unlike our own, but where everything works out in the end. Simply put, is there any value in this? Even assuming that we can justify taking time out of our responsibility- and obligation-filled lives to read fiction, does this genre, with its artificial perfection and unrealistic depictions of human nature, have any moral worth for our lives? Perhaps this is all just elitist talk though, because, the argument may go, of course we can apply the moral lessons that arise from fiction to the imperfect dynamic of real life. Mark Twain once said that “Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn’t.” Ralph Waldo Emerson disagrees however, as he once opined that “Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures.” Who is correct? What does fiction's relationship (or lack thereof) to our lives tell us about the role of the humanities in the university?