by Samuel Marzioli
Philosophy is given a bad rap. It’s often considered an outdated approach to finding truth that was made obsolete by the scientific method. But, in fact, philosophy is still an integral part of the human experience. Whenever someone probes the questions of life, the universe and--oh, why not--everything, they’ve entered the domain of the philosopher. It underlies every important field of inquiry and creative endeavor, from science, to art, to education, and even fiction.
As far as fiction goes, a healthy dose of philosophy can often separate the forgettable fluff from a true masterpiece. While we may be fascinated by scenes of blazing guns and magnificent explosions, set in far-flung worlds or distant times, in the end it may just be mindless entertainment. But who can forget, say, Phillip K. Dick’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” and its treatment of what it means to be human, or “Minority Report” and the nature of free will? Or, more popularly, the Matrix and the nature of reality itself. We remember stories like these--often despite their flaws--because they alter or heighten the way we perceive ourselves and our place in the natural order. In effect, they don’t simply regurgitate the human experience; they clarify it.
The good news is one need not be formally trained in order to write a philosophically sound piece of fiction, any more than one needs to have a degree in science to write science fiction. It’s all a matter of approach and subject matter. In my own experience, my story in the January 2013 issue of Penumbra started off as a fanciful yarn about a man and an unusual house. [Vague spoilers to follow] In the first draft, I went through the motions and banged out a working plot, but in the end I found it was ultimately missing something. It had no depth or relevance. In other words, it lacked philosophical weight.
It wasn’t until I started thinking more about the protagonist that I realized he had no significant problems. He was just an average man who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But what if he were an older gent that, at the end of his life, was forced to reevaluate the world view he had taken for granted for so many years? That, I believed, was something that spoke to our own experience: the comfort we find in the harmonization of our beliefs, and the tenuousness of things we hold as “knowledge.” And that, for better or for worse, became the foundation of my final draft for, “A House in the Woods.”
We all know, or at least should learn, the fundamentals of good fiction writing. Things like: write a compelling first sentence or paragraph, create a goal or desire for your protagonist, introduce conflict that keeps the character from his/her goal/desire, and deliver a satisfying resolution. But might I add, at least some of the time, incorporate a philosophical theme? It may not always fit, but sometimes, sometimes, it could make all the difference.
Samuel Marzioli lives in Oregon, and often writes outside in the rain under an umbrella. His fiction has appeared in Stupefying Stories 1.8 and the January 2013 issue of Penumbra. Several other stories are forthcoming in Stupefying Stories, Space & Time Magazine and the "A Darke Phantastique" anthology by Cycatrix Press.
Learn more about Samuel Marzioli his blog.

8 comments:
Wonderful insight, Samuel. And you're absolutely right-on with the philosophial approach. I hadn't realized it before, but that is what makes us think about a story long after we've finished reading or watching. But, writing in the rain, under an umbrella. Ummmmm. Nah.
EXCELLENT post! Just love that comment that philosophy can separate the fluff (banal) from the good writing. Good point, Samuel. It's something I've privately thought, but considering the genre I mainly write in, don't get a chance to expand on. Now you've REALLY made me think. Thank you for this post.
Just to piggyback off Vonnie's post, writing in another genre--say romance--doesn't preclude the philosophical. It just changes its direction a bit. Science fiction provides a sweeping panorama to challenge our perceptions; romance just brings those challenges closer to home. I think Vonnie's heroes in Coming Home and The Second Son have asked themselves some deep questions about war and peacetime and have changed their outlooks on life and relationships in light of their shifts in perspective. That's philosophy too. And a heck of a lot closer to where most of us live. (Except I do have a copy of Hitchhiker's Guide and my towel ready just in case the universe comes calling.)
Good points Arley. (Er...thank you for the mention). I'm still thinking about this blogpost. It intrigues me.
Thanks for your comments everyone!
And Rita, my writing practice was born out of necessity. Sometime back, I started going outside with my laptop because my family was just too loud for me to concentrate. Now that I'm in the habit, it's hard to get into a writing groove any other way.
I agree with you that we ought to endow our characters with human flaws if we want to make them real and memorable. For example, Javier Bardem's character in No Country For Old Men is that much more powerful bcause, even as the the villain, he has a code of fairness with his coin toss. The code may be twisted, but that does not alter its impact.
One of my favorite classes in college was philosophy, followed closely by ethics (minus the part where our entire semester grade rode on two tests - that was stressful). I haven't read much science fiction, but I would like to delve into that genre a little bit. You offered some great things to consider here and I look forward to reading your story in Penumbra.
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