A valuable discussion of the success of stories based on the exploration of imagined places is offered in the target article by Dubourg and Baumard (D&B). In this commentary, I suggest that their proposal may be extended in three ways.
First is the importance of arrangement. This can be seen if you explore the Loire Valley, in France, arrive at Angers and visit the Château. There displayed is the Apocalypse Tapestry, designed by Jean Bondol, who was active between 1368 and 1381. Among its images is one of a town, said to be what Paradise is like, accompanied by two figures who gaze at it. One is God-the-Father, looking very much like a human being sitting on a cloud. The other is John the Baptist, standing at the side. Paradise is evidently a small fortified town built before the beginning of the fifteenth century. Although the image and its background story are imagined, the elements – medieval town, one person sitting and one standing, cloud – are not.
Fiction has a Latin etymology, meaning “something made.” But this doesn't mean “made up.” In creating a story or image, authors and artists use pieces of what they know, which others can recognize, and arranging these pieces as elements configured in a new way. The elements themselves are not imagined.
A second aspect draws on D&B's discussion of how children explore and show greater preference than adults for stories of imaginary worlds. Relevant here is John Bowlby's theory of attachment in which a child and caregiver keep close together so the child is protected from harm. When the child can move about, the caregiver functions as a secure base (Bowlby, Reference Bowlby1988) from which exploration can occur. Gopnik (Reference Gopnik2020) has found that children's exploration is related to play and involves a broader search of hypotheses than happens in adults. Stories can be thought of as deriving from play, and do not endanger people as physical exploration sometimes does. As in attachment with a caregiver, readers and viewers are safe.
A third aspect is that, in fiction, physical exploration is usually accompanied by exploration of the social world: personal and interpersonal. This receives little attention in the target article. As described in the previous paragraph, interpersonal issues begin early in life. A famous children's novel (mentioned in the target article) which explores these features is Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Carroll, Reference Carroll and Gardner1865/1965).
At the start of this story Alice, perhaps about 10 years old, is with her older sister (caregiver). We may infer from the words “tired” in the first paragraph, and “sleepy” in the second, that the White Rabbit, whom she sees running past, occurs in a dream. The rabbit pops down a rabbit hole, and Alice follows. She enters the hole, then falls and keeps falling. She has learned from her lessons in the schoolroom about the earth, how it's 4,000 miles to its center; she wonders whether she will reach New Zealand or Australia. She passes cupboards and shelves. She then feels “dreamy.” When Alice lands she isn't hurt but finds herself in a passage that leads to a hall with many doors. As with Jean Bondol's Paradise, there are physical elements: rabbit hole, cupboards, shelves, hall with doors. Lewis Carroll arranged these in a new way.
More important than physical elements, Alice undergoes changes. On a table in the hall is a golden key. She finds that it opens a door. Through the opening she sees the loveliest garden. The doorway is 15 inches tall. She cannot pass. She drinks from a bottle with a label that says, “Drink Me,” and shrinks to a height of 10 inches. She'll be able to get through the door but can no longer reach the key on the table. She sees a very small cake, with a label that says, “Eat Me.” She does so and becomes taller. She can now get the key but can no longer get through the door. She bursts into tears. The changes of size seem intended to harmonize with issues of a girl who will soon reach puberty. What is seen through the little door? Is it adulthood? Looks lovely! How big will she become? And what is the key?
Alice's tears form a large pool, in which she swims, accompanied by a mouse. When she reaches the shore, she meets other animals and also some people: the Dodo, the Cheshire Cat, the Mad Hatter, the Queen of Hearts, the Mock Turtle, the Gryphon, and so on. These beings have different personalities, some friendly, others dismissive, some just rather mad. The Queen of Hearts is threatening and keeps saying that people, who include Alice, should be beheaded.
Alice takes part in various activities, some of them like games. She is both playful and thoughtful, as a 10-year-old girl might be, trying to see what goes on in the world, encountering puzzles, not ever being able quite to understand but, when necessary, disagreeing with what other characters say. The story invites some giggling. For example, when Alice asks the Mock Turtle about his education:
“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,” the Mock Turtle replied; “and then the different branches of Arithmetic – Ambition, Distraction, Uglification and Derision.” (Carroll, p. 129)
This story is an exploration with a primary purpose that is social. The suggestion is that one can understand something of others, all of whom have quirks. And one can understand hardly anything about the meaning of life, so what is one to do?
In the third edition of Literature as Exploration Rosenblatt (Reference Rosenblatt1965) proposed that readings of fiction are “interactions – or more precisely, transactions – between individual readers and the individual literary works” (pp. 26–27).
Places and objects are settings. Transactions occur between readers and characters, and often between readers and authors. Among other results are readers increasing their empathy for others (Oatley, Reference Oatley2016). In our explorations as readers, which are sometimes playful, we can move beyond our usual understandings; we can undergo personal transformation.
A valuable discussion of the success of stories based on the exploration of imagined places is offered in the target article by Dubourg and Baumard (D&B). In this commentary, I suggest that their proposal may be extended in three ways.
First is the importance of arrangement. This can be seen if you explore the Loire Valley, in France, arrive at Angers and visit the Château. There displayed is the Apocalypse Tapestry, designed by Jean Bondol, who was active between 1368 and 1381. Among its images is one of a town, said to be what Paradise is like, accompanied by two figures who gaze at it. One is God-the-Father, looking very much like a human being sitting on a cloud. The other is John the Baptist, standing at the side. Paradise is evidently a small fortified town built before the beginning of the fifteenth century. Although the image and its background story are imagined, the elements – medieval town, one person sitting and one standing, cloud – are not.
Fiction has a Latin etymology, meaning “something made.” But this doesn't mean “made up.” In creating a story or image, authors and artists use pieces of what they know, which others can recognize, and arranging these pieces as elements configured in a new way. The elements themselves are not imagined.
A second aspect draws on D&B's discussion of how children explore and show greater preference than adults for stories of imaginary worlds. Relevant here is John Bowlby's theory of attachment in which a child and caregiver keep close together so the child is protected from harm. When the child can move about, the caregiver functions as a secure base (Bowlby, Reference Bowlby1988) from which exploration can occur. Gopnik (Reference Gopnik2020) has found that children's exploration is related to play and involves a broader search of hypotheses than happens in adults. Stories can be thought of as deriving from play, and do not endanger people as physical exploration sometimes does. As in attachment with a caregiver, readers and viewers are safe.
A third aspect is that, in fiction, physical exploration is usually accompanied by exploration of the social world: personal and interpersonal. This receives little attention in the target article. As described in the previous paragraph, interpersonal issues begin early in life. A famous children's novel (mentioned in the target article) which explores these features is Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Carroll, Reference Carroll and Gardner1865/1965).
At the start of this story Alice, perhaps about 10 years old, is with her older sister (caregiver). We may infer from the words “tired” in the first paragraph, and “sleepy” in the second, that the White Rabbit, whom she sees running past, occurs in a dream. The rabbit pops down a rabbit hole, and Alice follows. She enters the hole, then falls and keeps falling. She has learned from her lessons in the schoolroom about the earth, how it's 4,000 miles to its center; she wonders whether she will reach New Zealand or Australia. She passes cupboards and shelves. She then feels “dreamy.” When Alice lands she isn't hurt but finds herself in a passage that leads to a hall with many doors. As with Jean Bondol's Paradise, there are physical elements: rabbit hole, cupboards, shelves, hall with doors. Lewis Carroll arranged these in a new way.
More important than physical elements, Alice undergoes changes. On a table in the hall is a golden key. She finds that it opens a door. Through the opening she sees the loveliest garden. The doorway is 15 inches tall. She cannot pass. She drinks from a bottle with a label that says, “Drink Me,” and shrinks to a height of 10 inches. She'll be able to get through the door but can no longer reach the key on the table. She sees a very small cake, with a label that says, “Eat Me.” She does so and becomes taller. She can now get the key but can no longer get through the door. She bursts into tears. The changes of size seem intended to harmonize with issues of a girl who will soon reach puberty. What is seen through the little door? Is it adulthood? Looks lovely! How big will she become? And what is the key?
Alice's tears form a large pool, in which she swims, accompanied by a mouse. When she reaches the shore, she meets other animals and also some people: the Dodo, the Cheshire Cat, the Mad Hatter, the Queen of Hearts, the Mock Turtle, the Gryphon, and so on. These beings have different personalities, some friendly, others dismissive, some just rather mad. The Queen of Hearts is threatening and keeps saying that people, who include Alice, should be beheaded.
Alice takes part in various activities, some of them like games. She is both playful and thoughtful, as a 10-year-old girl might be, trying to see what goes on in the world, encountering puzzles, not ever being able quite to understand but, when necessary, disagreeing with what other characters say. The story invites some giggling. For example, when Alice asks the Mock Turtle about his education:
“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,” the Mock Turtle replied; “and then the different branches of Arithmetic – Ambition, Distraction, Uglification and Derision.” (Carroll, p. 129)
This story is an exploration with a primary purpose that is social. The suggestion is that one can understand something of others, all of whom have quirks. And one can understand hardly anything about the meaning of life, so what is one to do?
In the third edition of Literature as Exploration Rosenblatt (Reference Rosenblatt1965) proposed that readings of fiction are “interactions – or more precisely, transactions – between individual readers and the individual literary works” (pp. 26–27).
Places and objects are settings. Transactions occur between readers and characters, and often between readers and authors. Among other results are readers increasing their empathy for others (Oatley, Reference Oatley2016). In our explorations as readers, which are sometimes playful, we can move beyond our usual understandings; we can undergo personal transformation.
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