Thoughts: Narrative Truth; Textual Ping-Pong
What is truth in fiction? And what is truth in fandom? I've been thinking lately about facts are not facts, my law training's rule no. 1, designed to make every student think of evidence as something that could be contested. It was a valid rule then and a valid rule now, and scientists hate us legal scholars for it. But that aside.
What is truth in fiction? In canon? What, if anything, tells us, the viewers, this is truth, a subtle or unsubtle code that we're meant to take to heart? Because they do. It's easy to say that facts are not facts, but certain things are posited in a way that we're meant to take them as set. Facts relevant to the plot, such as we've discovered the DNA at the crime scene belongs to X is presented differently to us if we're meant to question the veracity of that statement than if we're meant to take it as fact, as a plot furthering truth. These subtle (or unsubtle) ways that film and television producers code their material is meant to lead us in a specific direction.
The problem with fandom is that we don't. We don't necessarily take things about characters or stories as fact, merely because they're presented that way. And we take some things as fact when writers didn't necessarily mean for them to be that. Sherlock Holmes is a sociopath. Ianto Jones's father is a master tailor. These were both statements of fact in their respective canons. But fandom's response (heavy debate over the sociopath issue vs. acceptance as fact by 99% of fandom of the tailor thing) varies widely. The problem with presenting truth as a fluid thing in fiction, but trying to control how truth is read with alternative means, is that fans, in turn, decide what they consider true themselves.
This becomes problematic when these types of fanon wash up against contrary statements in the source material. Ianto Jones's father isn't, in fact, a master tailor. When you ask people in fandom, a significant number of them will answer that in their minds, his father is a master tailor. They reject facts in the source material in favour of things posited earlier in canon; they choose on basis of their own interpretation. They select what part of the narrative is "true" to them, and what part is false. This selection, in my opinion, can only take place because the source material posits the premise that not all you see is "true" to begin with.
This is an interesting premise when I ponder it, because often, fandom's re-envisioning of canon to include alternative readings gets irked responses from writers or actors. Some of those are because of prejudices in society (more than one negative response from actors comes from not wanting to be read as queer), but some of those are because parts of fandom decide that, no, they don't think Sherlock is asexual (this is not a fanon fact, btw, and I don't want to suggest it is; it's an example) and too bad that the writers think so, that's not what they see on screen. They reject the hints, the coding presented to them, and run with an alternative that they prefer.
This brings us to fanworks, which posit and create a fanon, facts believed about characters that have no sustained basis in the canon. Fanon can be a lovely thing, and fanon can be something that can drive you mental. But fandom, in its turn, selects narrative truth in its own works as well. Stories that posit things that contradict fanon are usually not widely read and not commented on much, no matter how valid and easily they fit within the source material. (Or, contrarily, they become the new fanon. It's happened.) On both occasions, the consumer of the works decides what is truth, what is fact, and accepts or rejects on basis of that. The author of the text only has the limited means of trying to code or explain themselves in the best way possible, hoping to be accepted.
There is no truth in fiction, but there is truth in the eye of the beholder. It makes me wonder why we choose what we choose, why we accept one thing as given, as fact, and the other as lies, untruths, fiction, even if we have no reason to assume we're being lied to. Is it an early media training to assume things not to be true? Is that how we're told to read and see stories? Or is there something at work about the greater influence of collective storytelling? Is it fandom, specifically, that rejects and accepts, and solely because they interact with the source text while others merely receive? Are there "rules" to play by when accepting or rejecting narrative truths, and what are those? Why do we choose to believe we're being lied to, sometimes?
--
Much gratitude to smirnoffmule, without whose question of, why do you AU? and the subsequent convo that came out of that, this post (and its title) would not have existed.
What is truth in fiction? In canon? What, if anything, tells us, the viewers, this is truth, a subtle or unsubtle code that we're meant to take to heart? Because they do. It's easy to say that facts are not facts, but certain things are posited in a way that we're meant to take them as set. Facts relevant to the plot, such as we've discovered the DNA at the crime scene belongs to X is presented differently to us if we're meant to question the veracity of that statement than if we're meant to take it as fact, as a plot furthering truth. These subtle (or unsubtle) ways that film and television producers code their material is meant to lead us in a specific direction.
The problem with fandom is that we don't. We don't necessarily take things about characters or stories as fact, merely because they're presented that way. And we take some things as fact when writers didn't necessarily mean for them to be that. Sherlock Holmes is a sociopath. Ianto Jones's father is a master tailor. These were both statements of fact in their respective canons. But fandom's response (heavy debate over the sociopath issue vs. acceptance as fact by 99% of fandom of the tailor thing) varies widely. The problem with presenting truth as a fluid thing in fiction, but trying to control how truth is read with alternative means, is that fans, in turn, decide what they consider true themselves.
This becomes problematic when these types of fanon wash up against contrary statements in the source material. Ianto Jones's father isn't, in fact, a master tailor. When you ask people in fandom, a significant number of them will answer that in their minds, his father is a master tailor. They reject facts in the source material in favour of things posited earlier in canon; they choose on basis of their own interpretation. They select what part of the narrative is "true" to them, and what part is false. This selection, in my opinion, can only take place because the source material posits the premise that not all you see is "true" to begin with.
This is an interesting premise when I ponder it, because often, fandom's re-envisioning of canon to include alternative readings gets irked responses from writers or actors. Some of those are because of prejudices in society (more than one negative response from actors comes from not wanting to be read as queer), but some of those are because parts of fandom decide that, no, they don't think Sherlock is asexual (this is not a fanon fact, btw, and I don't want to suggest it is; it's an example) and too bad that the writers think so, that's not what they see on screen. They reject the hints, the coding presented to them, and run with an alternative that they prefer.
This brings us to fanworks, which posit and create a fanon, facts believed about characters that have no sustained basis in the canon. Fanon can be a lovely thing, and fanon can be something that can drive you mental. But fandom, in its turn, selects narrative truth in its own works as well. Stories that posit things that contradict fanon are usually not widely read and not commented on much, no matter how valid and easily they fit within the source material. (Or, contrarily, they become the new fanon. It's happened.) On both occasions, the consumer of the works decides what is truth, what is fact, and accepts or rejects on basis of that. The author of the text only has the limited means of trying to code or explain themselves in the best way possible, hoping to be accepted.
There is no truth in fiction, but there is truth in the eye of the beholder. It makes me wonder why we choose what we choose, why we accept one thing as given, as fact, and the other as lies, untruths, fiction, even if we have no reason to assume we're being lied to. Is it an early media training to assume things not to be true? Is that how we're told to read and see stories? Or is there something at work about the greater influence of collective storytelling? Is it fandom, specifically, that rejects and accepts, and solely because they interact with the source text while others merely receive? Are there "rules" to play by when accepting or rejecting narrative truths, and what are those? Why do we choose to believe we're being lied to, sometimes?
--
Much gratitude to smirnoffmule, without whose question of, why do you AU? and the subsequent convo that came out of that, this post (and its title) would not have existed.