The World and How We See It

As a writer, I am constantly trying to create stories with characters that are complex and full of emotion, to describe worlds with concrete details, to infuse every story with a weight and reality that will make it live on the page. While I do this, I try to always remember just how limited my perceptions are. 

“Even though we accept the reality that's presented to us, we're really only seeing a little window of what's happening.”

~ David Eagleman

Just like when we tell stories to each other, we humans, when we look at the world around us, are in the business of making meaning. The more we learn about the brain, the more it becomes clear that there is no way for us to perceive the world in a neutral way, unbiased by our own prejudices and instincts. If this is true of our understanding of the physical world, I think it's doubly so for our interactions with  other people (and, I would posit,  animals).

Lifehacker has a great post about perception, and why it’s good to disrupt our usual ways of seeing things. Anyone can benefit from shaking up their routines and challenging their assumptions. It's refreshing to see things a little differently.

For a writer, it's a critical skill. If I'm going to create unique characters – real characters, not just straw men and women mouthing some opinion I personally don’t agree with – then I must empathize even with the very people who vex me the most. If I am to describe the places these characters inhabit in ways that are fresh and real, I must try to see the world afresh through my same old eyes.

The first step is to acknowledge that your own reality and Reality are not one and the same.

“David Eagleman describes this as the umwelt: the assumption that our reality is the only reality out there.”

~ Lifehacker “Recalibrate Your Reality”

Here are two great books that helped me wrap my head around the limits of my own perceptions.

Incognito by David Eagleman (His book, Sum, is excellent too!)

Here’s a quote:  
“The deep secret of the brain is that not only the spinal cord but the entire central nervous system works this way: internally generated activity is modulated by sensory input. In this view, the difference between being awake and being asleep is merely that the data coming in from the eyes anchors the perception. Asleep vision (dreaming) is perception that is not tied down to anything in the real world; waking perception is something like dreaming with a little more commitment to what´s in front of you. Other examples of unanchored perception are found in prisoners in pitch-park solitary confinement, or in people in sensory deprivation chambers. Both of these situations quickly lead to hallucinations.”

And, Being Wrong by Kathryn Schulz

“To err is to wander, and wandering is the way we discover the world; and, lost in thought, it is also the way we discover ourselves. Being right might be gratifying, but in the end it is static, a mere statement. Being wrong is hard and humbling, and sometimes even dangerous, but in the end it is a journey, and a story.”

Empathy

Cave paintings from the Cave of Swimmers in the Sahara Desert.

In my opinion, empathy is the writer's most important tool, and possibly the purpose of the whole endeavor. If you’re wondering what empathy is exactly, check out this video for a lovely short course.

Empathy is our love for each other born out of our suffering, and our mutual understanding of the fragility of life. This love binds us together. And, It’s what will make your writing soar.

To have our view of the world transformed by a book, the book must work a transformation within us. This is the magic of great writing. It can reach across time and gender, class and culture. Magic, and no simple spell. Writers apprentice themselves for years, decades, lifetimes, to master the art of deep, transformative writing. At its heart is an emotional connection to the characters born from a deep empathy with the world and everyone in it.

Empathy is good for you. I recommend it for everyone. But, if you want to be a writer it is a necessity. You can’t create real characters, or truly interrogate a situation, if you are so entrenched in your own beliefs and opinions that you cannot step outside yourself to contemplate why someone might think or behave differently than you would.

Here are some writerly ways to practice empathy.

Be curious about the other.

A writer is curious about everything, but especially about people. The more different their opinions and life experiences are from yours, the better. Look for opportunities to interact with the sorts of people you wouldn't normally talk with. Challenge yourself to be a fish-out-of-water. Volunteer at a soup kitchen or at City Hall. Don't go to argue with anyone or to promote your own agenda, but with an intense curiosity about the people you meet. Reorient your interest away from yourself and towards the other.

You may be surprised how quickly you find that you have something in common. You both like Schnauzers, or knitting, or muscle cars, you both have daughters, or a parent suffering from Alzheimer's. Humans are social creatures and even as we define ourselves into tribal groups, we are also driven to find common ground. For extra credit, cultivate friendships with people who do not believe the same things you do.

Be a good conversationalist.

They don't call it the "art" of conversation for nothing. It doesn't always come naturally. Imperfect as it is, conversation is the best way to find out why other people think and act and feel the way they do. The more people you talk to the more equipped you'll be to write dialogue that feels real and conveys each character's individuality.

First, listen.

Really listen. I work on this all the time, especially with friends because there's always so much I want to talk about. I try to tell myself, listen first. Even brief exchanges with strangers, in line for coffee – or when you give that coffee to the homeless guy sitting on the curb – can be fruitful. Listen and take in what you hear without judgment (this is not the same as not expressing an opinion). Just keep in mind that it's not always about you.

Then, talk.

You have to open up because empathy is a two-way street. How can anyone trust you with their fears and crazy schemes if you don’t ante up too? More importantly, you can’t truly be receptive to another person’s point of view if you can’t allow yourself to be vulnerable. Learning empathy has a lot to do with experiencing your own vulnerability, and it’s the price of admission for a real connection to another human being.

Be trustworthy

It doesn’t pay for anyone to be vulnerable if there isn’t trust. If someone shares something personal, or emotionally difficult, they have given you a gift in trust. Be worthy of their generosity by keeping it well.

Put on those shoes.

And then walk a mile in them. Be like an actor researching a role, and put yourself in real life situations that are new and different. Take a variety of jobs, travel to exotic places (and stray from the tour group), volunteer for an organization that helps people you wouldn't normally meet.

Imagine.

Now that you've opened your senses to the world and gotten in touch with the people around you, it's time to do something with all this input. Develop an ambitious imagination - the key word here is AMBITIOUS. You will use it practically, when empathizing with someone who has a very different worldview than your own to imagine where they come from, and to extrapolate why they hold the views they do.

When you write, your imagination is your bread and butter. I believe absolutely everyone has a great imagination, just sometimes we get in the habit of keeping it hemmed in, tamped down, locked away.

Know that your imagination is vast; it contains multitudes. Let it stretch and play. Go to the bright places and to the dark places. Be an adventurer. Use the raw material you gather in your every day, empathetic interactions to feed the fire of your imagination.

No Literary Value

"I didn't find any literary value." So said one member of the Randolf County's (North Carolina) Board of Education about Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison's masterpiece, when the board handed down their decision to ban the book. This is the end of the official Banned Books Week, but every week books are challenged, suppressed, censored, bowdlerized, banned, and yes, still burned. 

No literary value. It's one of the more common arguments put forth when some person or group wants to challenge a book. That got me to wondering as I perused the list of the most challenged and banned books, because there are so many works of clearly great literary value that have earned a permanent spot on this list.* Here's just a few of my personal favorites:

• Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
• I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
• Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
• To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
• Brave New World, by Aldus Huxley
• Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
• The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien
• Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
• The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood
• A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L'Engle
• and everything Toni Morrison's ever written as far as I can tell

I believe the "no literary value" offensive works on a couple levels. First, it's a convenient cover for the real complaint, which has to do with the theme or topic of the book. Taken as a whole, any list of banned books is a short course in the flashpoints that we struggle with as a society. Regardless of the literary value of the books on the list there's no arguing the evergreen topics: race, religion, sexuality and sexual preference, gender, and class. Second, there is a popular perception that establishing a work of art's value is impossible. The idea that beauty is solely in the eye of the beholder is a tautology that serves to scuttle any reasoned argument. True, there is no mathematical formula, yet we have always recognized creative genius, e.g. Beethoven, Milton, da Vinci. There are giants in every field, and by their examples we set the bar, by critical agreement, and by the test of time.

All art is subversive and therefore vulnerable to censure. Good art  strips away our preconceived notions, and pursues the truth, no matter how painful or damning. Good art also reveals the transcendent beauty all around us. But it just might be the narrative arts that are the most subversive of all. A recent study about about reading fiction confirms that it influences our ability to empathize. It also found that that the higher the reader's "transportation" into the story, the greater our empathy. One of the joys of reading a great book is the feeling that the world around us has fallen away, and we have been truly transported into the world of the story. We see that world through the eyes of the protagonist and empathize with his or her point of view. 

I believe that seeing the world through new eyes, irrevocably changes the way we see our own world once we put the book down. A book can change your mind. It can change your heart. Is there anything more dangerous than something that can change your heart? 

We need these books for the same reason we need free speech, because we simply cannot be trusted to limit it fairly. The opening lines of Invisible Man express perfectly why it is one of the most ironic books to ban.

"I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids - and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me."

But maybe there's hope yet. ** So, go forth and be daring, be subversive. Read a banned book.

Artwork courtesy of the ALA

* Don't even get me started on the kids books on this list. That'll have to wait for another post.

** North Carolina Students Will Get Free Copies of Banned Invisible Man.