I visited an art show in Antigua yesterday. It was called “Los Deseparecidos” or “The Disappeared.” Each of the installations focused on a particular heinous act in South or Central America. The disappearances in Argentina, the massacres in Columbia, Pinochet in Chile, the dictatorship in Uruguay, martial law in Venezuala. A video showed two men singing original compositions of how they narrowly escaped death. An installation of the backs of photograph frames. Another of hazy photographs. One of my favorite was a series of bicycles printed on gossamer sheets, each symbolizing a disappearance because often only a bicycle would be found, abandoned.
It would have been beautiful if it had not been so traumatizing. As it stood, it was sublime, since the sublime covers the traumatic/beautiful combination. There was a child crying in the background of all the exhibits. I never found out whether that was part of the exhibit or not, but it was strangely appropriate.
As I continued, I realized all my prior knowledge about these events in South America had come through books. And not nonfiction, either, because I have read virtually no nonfiction on the topics. I have learned everything through fiction. Roberto Bolano taught me about Pinochet´s Chile. Deborah Eisenberg taught me of the U.S. involvement and responsibility for certain South American regimes. Nathan Englander showed me how the disappearances in Argentina affected families. Daniel Alarcon educated me about the Shining Path in Peru (even when writing about nameless cities).
But I wonder whether gathering political/historical information through fiction rather than nonfiction colors the way I understand those events. One difference seems to be stark. I am much more emotionally involved in the disappearances or other massacres when I read fiction, because I connect with characters on a relational level. But I feel that nonfiction would provide all the peripheral information, the type of statistics and bird´s eye view of the conflict that offers a broader perspective.
How about you? Does fiction or nonfiction have more influence in informing you on political/social issues? And should we use different modes, such as narrative and exposition, when educating ourselves on geopolitical or historical issues?
2 comments
Yeah, I admit I tend to worry about getting any information from fiction. To me, fiction is stories, while non-fiction is events, if that makes sense. I think it’s because I tend to suspend my disbelief right away, and because of that, I have trouble with actual belief in it; once I’m primed to read fiction, I tend to think it’s a sign I shouldn’t trust anything I’m reading. I think that emotional involvement, too, is part of it; I don’t want to be emotionally involved with education and knowledge, because facts are facts, and I worry that, if I’m emotionally involved, some fact will turn me off, so to speak. I want to be open to possibilities, and I tend to think emotional involvement renders that somewhat impossible.
Anyway, interesting post! Glad you’re having a great trip!
Interesting topic to debate! There is naturally somewhat of a red flag when it comes to understanding history/nonfiction through fiction. However, some fiction authors’ research is so impeccable, it can be an invaluable teaching tool.
Take Lisa See for instance. She is part Chinese, but mostly Caucasian. See has written a number of books about China that take place during the past few centuries. Her heritage gives her a real “in” when she travels to China to do research, as does her own family history. Because of her ties to Chinese culture, she is dutifully accurate.
In summary, fiction is an especially grand way to introduce otherwise-uninformed readers (including myself) to culture and history. But, the red flag waves, regardless of how urgently.