I have heard that the Eskimo language has over 30 words for love. I believe the same should hold for truth. As a young child, everything my older brother said was truth. When you spread a vicious rumor about someone and you have to tell them, looking them in the eye, that you were the one who caused them so much pain; that is the truth. But that is also courage, and redemption, and acceptance of weakness, and so many other big words I could throw out. When you lie back after a particularly satisfying day, and just can't stop smiling, that is it's own truth, in fact, for me, that is the most sublime and simple kind. Yet many would not even call that truth. So when you want, really crave, really need to believe something, will it come true?
In "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" by Ambrose Bierce, the reader's truth gets flipped on it's head. Yet Peyton Farquhar, some would argue, truly dies in the moment he springs towards his wife in a surreal morning sunrise. So does what the narrator believes and records really matter? Does it even really matter if Peyton Farquhar existed? He exists for us now, and in that conundrum lies the power of literature. My high school creative writing teacher, who I can honestly say lives by one of the most unique truths I know, had this quote in his room by a woman author, and though I cannot know obtain the author, the quote went like this: "Literature is one big lie. And in the middle of it, lies the truth." Sometimes, in order to tell the truth, we must lie. In order for us to really know Peyton Farquhar as a character, we must experience his version of the truth. I, as a reader, wanted Peyton to live because his truth showed us what an optimistic, heroic character he was at heart. He valiantly tried to craft his own truth; he believed in his truth more than anything else, even reality. And our truths, especially in a society as competitive as ours, are hard to hold on to. We read lies to discover truth just as we tell lies when we do not want to believe the truth. A writer, in fact, as the author of the quote so magnificently pointed out, has the huge burden and honor of telling the truth through lies. Through stories, through placing an immense trust in characters, we discover our own truths. The more stories we tell, the more stories we contribute to, and especially the more stories we hear, the more confident we become in our own truths. In the penultimate paragraph, Bierce writes, "At the bottom of the steps she stands waiting, with a smile of ineffable joy, an attitude of matchless grace and dignity." Oh, how I want this to be Peyton's reality! If we follow the quote on my teacher's wall, we can have Peyton be dead and, miraculously, have his version of the story be true. And oh what a miracle literature is.
I completely agree with the idea that literature is a pile of lies with the truth residing somewhere at the bottom. When I read fiction, when anyone reads fiction, they start knowing that this story they are about to invest themselves in is completely made up. And yet, we continue to read, we continue to love to read. The lies that the author creates are simply a vehicle that carries within it the great truths of life. Indeed, stories often have a greater effect on the people that read them than simple statements. People are more likely to remember characters they loved and what happened to those characters than a dry piece of advice in a self-help, and that, I think, is the miracle of literature.
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