brief, semi-choate thoughts on (the ethics of) fiction

[starlady]

So I was reading the season premiere of Shadow Unit on Sunday, The Unicorn Evils; whatever else one could say about the SU writers (and one could unquestionably say a lot), they are merciless on both their audience and their characters alike. Both S3x01 and the S2 season finale feature massacres of schoolchildren, and at some point while I was reading I found myself reflecting on the fact that the writers have racked up quite the body count...and SU is only at the halfway point.

Immediately afterward I read yhlee's FMA metacomic "Immortal" (go read it now; I'll wait [spoilers for chapter 100!]). In her notes yhlee explains that the comic had its origins in a nightmare she had in which faceless overlords who were experimenting on people were later revealed to be fanfic writers. So...I've been wondering what, if any, consideration we as creators owe our creations. The people we create (about) aren't real (not even RPF, I'd say), but at the same time I'd bet money that they are frequently more real to us than many of our fellow human beings. And...this is where it gets inchoate. The last thing I would advocate is that a character deserves the same weight as a human being, particularly in light of the fact that it's a struggle worldwide for human beings to enjoy the rights they deserve. But...I don't think I'm comfortable conceptualizing creativity as so cavalier even with the representations of human life (even as someone who has killed off her share of characters, both original and other people's, in her creative efforts). How do we determine how much a character is worth? Is a character's worth simply the emotional investment the audience puts in? Do the needs of the story outweigh the worth of the character? I don't know, and I feel odd even posting about this. But as a reader and as a writer, it's been on my mind, though I obviously have no definitive conclusion whatsoever.

Comments

[sara]

I quit reading SU after the first season, mostly because it seemed to me like they were going to keep drawing from the child abuse/murder well, and...that's not a kind of narrative that I'm willing to engage with, both because I find it emotionally draining and because I think it's lazy writing (if you want to gutpunch your reader, kill some kids). *shrug* YMMV, but that's where I found myself.

[starlady]

Well, it certainly hasn't gotten any less emotionally draining. I've stuck with it for the FBI characters, mostly, but even they are getting run through the sausage-maker.

I think it's lazy writing (if you want to gutpunch your reader, kill some kids).

No, I wonder about that too. I think the SU writers do a good job at fully animating their supporting characters, who due to the nature of the narrative are always the ones who are fully engaged with the emotional consequences of the murders the agents investigate, but...I wonder. I think it really easily can be lazy writing, and often is, but isn't always? And I'm not sure what I think of SU specifically in regards to that. In SU's case the gutpunches come from what happens to the agents rather than to the random dead civilians, which is discomfiting to some extent, though it's the natural reader response to care about the viewpoint characters much more.

The other writer I could have cited, I think, is David Weber in his Honor Harrington books. One of them features a terrorist attack on an elementary school, with kids inside; another ends with a battle in which there are literally something like 1.5 million casualties (ah, space opera). And I think Weber handled the first scenario really well--the viewpoint characters cared and grieved for what happened--but as a reader I only cared that a few characters I knew had died in that huge battle. There's a question of scale, and of emotional investment, maybe. And I think it sets in at different points depending on the story. But, yeah. Whether it's 167 schoolkids in SU or 1.5 million military personnel in the Honorverse, the numbers give me pause.