This document is a summary of Currie.
My personal comments are in
red.
These comments have been added to help students understand his arguments.
Some works of art invite us
to imagine something. There are two basic kinds of imagining. [Notice
that imagining is our topic here, not imagination! Imagining is something
that we do; it's an event. If I imagine that Tom Sawyer is lost in a cave,
my imagining this situation is an event that takes place at a specific
time. So imaginings are events with specific durations.]
- The Recreative
Imagination: As an event, imagining simulates another sort of event
without being a full, literal recreation of it. For example, the event
of visually imagining X is a simulation of visually perceiving
X.
- The Creative
Imagination: An event in which one produces ideas that defy
expectations and conventions. [As
opposed to generating something new by a trial-and-error process, or
by mere variation on existing things, creative imagining is supposed
to happen mentally and without determining reasons.]
Everybody uses recreative
imagination, and it is not itself evidence that one can or does employ
creative imagination.
Representational content in
art engages recreational imagination, but complex art may demand creating
imagining of the audience (they must produce fresh interpretations that
are not obvious). The production of original art requires creative imagination.
The rest of this analysis focuses on recreative imagination.
Imagination and Fiction
Representational art (e.g.,
paintings with a recognizable subject, most literature, films, etc.)
demands recreative imagination. Kendall
Walton contends that this art furnishes prompts, guiding games of
make-believe. What it prompts us to imagine, it "makes
fictional." What is prompts us NOT to imagine, it makes fictional the
opposite. Most works are neutral about most things. Sometimes this
neutrality is important, as when Shakespeare's Hamlet remains
neutral about his motives. On this view, being fictional is explained by
imagining, not imagining by the fictional. [Imagining
is the more basic category]
On this theory, it is "fictionally true" that Hamlet is Danish,
and "fictionally false" that Hamlet is 75 years old. To be
fictional is not equated with being false. Real
people and places are fictional when they appear in fiction (when we are
prompted to imagine them in certain ways), but what of fictional
characters who aren't real? Since we can come up with all sorts of
"empty names," (e.g., Zeus, Vulcan), this is not a special
problem involving imagination and fiction. Photographs
are an interesting case. If their aim is to "induce belief" (to
make us believe that something is to be seen in the photo), then they do
not seem to be fictions. For they do not prompt us to imagine. For
Walton, all photos are fictions. Like fictional literature, they present
us with something to understand AND prompt us to imagine things conforming
to the descriptions provided. But we can understand without following the
prompt. Photographs do not work the same way; we cannot understand them
except by imagining that the two dimensions are three. Since all photos
and all films require imagining, they are fictions. [Remember
that imagining makes fiction, not the other way around.] But
some people (e.g., some persons with autism) have an ability for visual
recognition without being able to engage in imagination, so perhaps
pictures do not automatically involve recreative imagination. In that
case, pictures aren't automatically fictions. Perhaps
we should impose a fiction/non-fiction distinction on photographs, films,
and even paintings. The fictions will be those intended to prompt
recreative imaginings. Belief Notice
the opening claim about recreative imaginings. An event simulates another
sort of event, NOT that something "in the head" simulates
objects. Visual imagining simulates visual perception, NOT that an
imagined battle somehow "copies" a real battle. The parallel is
between events. Literature
often prompts non-visual imagining. What does this event simulate? One
view is that it can be more like believing a piece of information (a proposition)
than it's like visualizing something. We make inferences when reading
stories, and there is no difference in the inferential processes with
fiction and non-fiction. (Holmes is in London and it's the 19th century,
so if he's in Chicago in the next chapter, some time must have passed.) So
narrative fiction introduces imagining that copies believing (without
fully being a case of belief). Is
it a REAL case of believing? Not as we normally understand belief, as
including a disposition to ACT in certain ways [you
don't really believe you're going to the movies at 7:00 p.m. if it's 6:59
p.m. and you've made no effort to get there].
At best, imagining a story is true is a "weak" version of
belief. But perhaps
it is not ANY sort of belief. There is "something wrong' [very
wrong!] with someone
who believe P and not-P simultaneously. One has an epistemic defect in
one's belief system. [If
you believe that you're eating tuna and believe that tuna is a fish, AND
you believe that you are eating chicken and not fish, then there is a big
defect somewhere in your "epistemic condition." You need help.] But
with fiction, I imagine P when I believe not-P. But there is no epistemic
defect in doing so. Therefore imaging is not a kind of belief. [I
do not believe that a person named Hamlet talked to the ghost of his
father, the deceased king. But when I read the play, I imagine that Hamlet
talks to the ghost of his father, the deceased king. And I'm not in a
condition of epistemic defect when I do this. So imagining isn't really
subject to the conditions that apply to beliefs.] At
best, imagination is simulated belief. Emotion Does
this help us to solve one of the classic problems about fiction? These
three propositions all seem plausible:
- We fear for characters in fictions who
are in danger.
- To fear for someone we must believe they
are in danger.
- We do not believe in the dangers
described in fictions.
Problem: Any pair of the three will exclude
the third.
Solutions:
- Accept the irrationality of our response
to fiction.
- Deny 1 by saying that we substitute a
real object for whom we fear.
- Deny 2 by saying that thoughts, not
beliefs, are sufficient.
- Deny 1 by saying that there's never any
real fear. Just as we fictionally believe, we only fictionally fear.
- Deny 2 by saying that belief is not a
condition for fear.
- Embrace 3 but substitute the idea that
we can simulate/imagine believing, and we do something parallel with
2, creating a functional parallel to fear in 1. This is Currie's
solution.
The problem is not just one of emotions and
fiction: we can also recast it in terms of belief, where the puzzle is how
we can believe something about a character and desire that it be
otherwise, when we do not believe there is any such person.
So desire seems to have an imaginative
counterpart, not just belief and emotion. |