The Narrative Fallacy

Samhain                                                             Thanksgiving Moon

Narrative fallacy.  I read about it first last night in a book on Amazon.com called “The Everything Store.”  Jeff Bezos refers to it as a construct he read in the book, “The Black Swan.”  It struck me as very post modern.

Here’s how I understand it.  The narrative fallacy occurs when we use our logical, cause and effect seeking mental habits to place often chaotic events in a series that we can understand.  This means leaving out details, rearranging troublesome sequences, condensing complex interactions.  We make a story out of the data available to us.

I haven’t read the Black Swan but I imagine this is how Black Swans (big problems that seem to come out of nowhere) slip under the perceptions of people trying to evaluate risks.

This squares with an especially nettlesome idea in current neuroscience (the author may have gotten it from that source) that suggests our self is a narrative fallacy.  That is, our self is a story we construct out of certain pieces of our life, knitting this into the fabric and leaving that out.  In this view the self is not solid and unchanging, it’s not even relatively solid but changing slowly over time.  No, the self is fluid from beginning to end, a long long novel with ourselves in a starring role, but the script keeps getting handed to us, marked up with changes.

This partly comes from the plasticity of memory and the proven unreliability of human memory.  We now know eye witnesses, once the gold standard of detective fiction and fact, are the least likely to portray events accurately.  Not because the eye witnesses lie, but because our capacity to remember events as they happened is poor.  Emotions skew them, bias skews them, our senses feed us less than reliable data.  We’re a walking hodge podge of experiences.

(sarah fishburn)

The narrative fallacy neatly explains the role of story.  As Bill Schmidt’s Tom Clancy quote says, “Fiction is not like reality.  Fiction has to make sense.”  A key role of fiction is to reassure us of the intelligibility of the world.  The world is not, in fact, intelligible.  There’s just too much going on.  We have to edit our experience to have any hope of using it to our advantage.

Why is it post modern?  Because post modernism (I’m not convinced this is a very good term.) insists on the unreliability of any narrative. [think about this idea in relation to the photograph below of a Traditional Catholic service in Kitchener, Ontario] As a direct corollary of this, though, there is the role of agency, the role of narrative creator.  That gives all of us a key role in constructing the future we want.  We can claim neither fundamentals from so-called foundational documents or ideas, nor can we rely on history as other than story; but, we can rely on the necessity of our role in creating a new story, one constructed in a way that seems to us true, just and fair.  Even beautiful.  Knowing that none of these categories are more than markers for working or not working.

Asleep

Samhain                                                                        Thanksgiving Moon

Another implication of the fallow season had escaped me, at least at the level Jim Gilbert describes in a recent phenology column in the Star-Tribune:

Hibernation is a winterless life chosen by reptiles, amphibians, insects and some mammals. During the winter untold millions of animals — including toads, frogs, salamanders, snapping turtles, garter snakes, bats, woodchucks and mosquito larvae — are hibernating across Minnesota.

We often miss the warm period lives of these creatures because many of them are small, secretive and prefer to remain well away from humans.  Their winter lives, in the millions, untold millions Gilbert says, never massed together in my mind.

(this wonderful piece by Travis Demillo.)

Walking in our woods right now there are thousands of salamanders, toads, frogs, garter snakes, woodchucks, various insects, ground squirrels and gophers in a state of suspended animation, dreaming small animal dreams until the weather becomes more suitable for their life again next year.  It gives the woods a haunted, Snow White sort of atmosphere with so many of its active and vibrant lifeforms stilled to the point of coma.  And by intention.  Well, evolutionarily adapted intention that is.

Here’s a lifted glass to their long night, a safe sleep and a welcome return.

 

Grand Round

Samhain                                                         Thanksgiving Moon

Back from Stefan and Lonnie’s with new things to ponder about this draft of Missing.  After their house, I went to the Tea Shop and picked up some white jasmine and some white tea grown on Oahu.  The owner of the tea shop told me an interesting video clip he’d seen on Youtube about a native Hawaiian who catches wild pigs (a major environmental problem in Hawai’i left over from the days of supplying whaling ships) and castrates them.

The Tea Shop said the Hawaiian in the video was, “The slowest knot tier I’d ever seen.  He finally got the knot done, finished the job and the pig woke up.  He stood on the wire cage and released the boar.  That pig really wanted to get him.”  I imagine so.

After the Tea Shop, I drove on Hennepin to Kramarczuk‘s where I picked up a pound of kielbasa links and a pound of Moroccan lamb links.  By this point I was pretty hungry so I went into the restaurant and ordered an Italian sausage sandwich with sauerkraut.  Hmmm.  sausage sandwich sauerkraut.  A little Germanic-flavored alliteration .  The Italian sausage was lacklustre, but hunger made it good.

Lonnie and Stefan live in Edina on Minnehaha Creek, the Tea Shop is on Lyndale not far from where the French Bakery used to be and Kramarczuk’s is just into Northeast over the Hennepin bridge east of downtown.  The Spectacle Shoppe, my last stop was further to the east and north on Silver Lake Road in New Brighton.

Reading glasses.  Because my primary correction is for far vision, I’ve never bought prescription reading glasses before but my ophthalmologist thought they would help me. I found a nice tortoise shell pair, round.

At that the point the circle I had been making started to close on its final quarter, the trip home.  This trip used map memories going all the way back to my days in seminary.  I took Stinson Boulevard into New Brighton, then Silver Lake north.  A church that used to be part of my responsibility in Northeast now has a green crescent moon and star in place of the cross.  Urbanization and globalization coming together on Broadway.

Now I’m home.

 

Missing, the final chapters

Samhain                                                      Thanksgiving Moon

On, hopefully, the final lap with Missing. Lonnie and Stefan will pass on their comments this morning.  I’ll incorporate any changes necessary after this conversation and then give the manuscript to Quickproofers.  After Bob Klein finishes with it, I’ll incorporated changes from his work.  At that point it gets sent to agents.  If there are no bites through agents, then publishers.

Writing novels and selling them takes a long time. You have to see into the distance, keep your pace steady.  I’ve not been good at the business side of writing and now I’m going to be.  It’s past time.