Do We Need Escapist Fiction?
You don’t have to be a Houdini-type to escape reality. In the 21st century, we are inundated with distractions and entertainment to divert us from and numb us to the harsher realities of global capitalism and its consequences. Most are inconsequential fripperies quickly forgotten once “consumed”. What about Escapist Fiction? Is it any different? I have dabbled in various forms of poetry, and my pieces of memoir may one day coalesce to become an autobiography that some people might find vaguely interesting, but mostly what I am drawn to write could be labelled Escapist Fiction (EF). My natural inclination is not towards creating works of great literary merit; I don’t feel clever enough, and I don’t think I’ve got anything important to say that hasn’t already been covered by someone more articulate and knowledgeable than I am. So what’s the point?
According to Wikipedia, “Escapist literature aims to give readers imaginative entertainment rather than to address contemporary issues and provoke serious and critical thoughts”. Yet in the same paragraph it states, “Escapist fiction offers structure, rationality and resolution to real-world problems”. So which is it? Could it be both? As someone who makes stuff up and writes it down, and who regularly reads what might be described (sometimes disparagingly) as EF, I’ll tell you what I think. And what some of the research shows. Needless to say, I may be tempted to resort to a few sweeping generalisations, otherwise we could be here all week discussing minutiae, by which time we’ll all be bored to death.
So, can EF be a way of putting a paper bag on your head and hiding from the big bad world and its associated problems? You bet. Some novels are written specifically with that purpose and there are times when that is exactly what we need.
Popular fiction or genre fiction (aka Leisure Reading) are most likely to be dismissed as “escapist”, categories customarily frowned upon by critical scholars. These books are said to fulfil or conform to specific formulae, so the critics have no literary meat into which to sink their teeth. To them, what makes literature deserving of their attention is its unique nature and its originality. By this definition genre fiction, with its formulaic plots and archetypal characters, is not a worthy subject of study. Thus, EF is judged collectively not individually and considered undeserving, merely filling a void in the proletariat soul. This “opiate of the people” argument suggests that EF deflects readers’ political awareness away from genuine social issues, rerouting any potential activism and anger into safe zones that reaffirm existing prejudices. But there’s more to it than that. Like all good stories, well-written EF often uses narrative techniques that encourage readers to question cultural and social assumptions. This may help people to consider different aspects of contemporary issues such as identity, politics, the environment, social justice, etc. EF can possess complex themes and ideological debates that appeal to readers, maybe even influencing their worldviews. Readers may be presented with ethical dilemmas or taught lessons, raising awareness of historical events, and people in other cultures or different socio-economic backgrounds, thereby increasing understanding of other human beings.
Whilst it is not always my conscious intention, there is no doubt that often my ethics, opinions and politics infiltrate my writing, possibly so subtly that no one (including myself) notices.
At this point, I would like to add that literary fiction can also be escapist. Just because it is character-driven rather than plot-driven, examines the human condition, uses poetic or experimental language or is judged to have artistic merit, doesn’t mean you can’t get lost in the story. Without reader engagement, the yawn factor becomes a high likelihood.
The often-held presumption of audience passivity in popular and genre fiction is questionable. Reader-response theories propose that the cooperation of a reader can contribute to the formation of meaning. This reader-generated “meaning” may not coincide with what the author thinks they have created. Furthermore, escapism in leisure reading can be psychologically complex – not only related to pleasure and relaxation but potentially transformative and therefore a significant experience in the reader’s life.
Character-focussed narration is not limited to literary fiction. As a technique combined with a compelling plot, it fosters close character/reader sympathies, which encourages readers to become so immersed in the story they can be more receptive to ideological persuasion.
By showing how a sympathetic character’s actions and words can influence outcomes in a dramatic and engaging context, the story can even provide a medium through which an individual’s personal fears and shortcomings might be overcome.
Furthermore, studies have shown that when a reader becomes emotionally transported by a story that replicates social interactions and relationships, it increases empathic skills and enhances the ability to accurately assess others’ emotions from nonverbal cues.
Science fiction is often tarred with the escapist brush. However, internationally renowned and respected author, Margaret Atwood, asserts that SF can graphically examine issues such as the possible outcomes of adopting new technologies, the essence and scope of human nature, alternative social constructs, our relationship to the universe and explore the limits of our imagination.
After all that waffle, it may be going through your mind that I’m overthinking this – but I’m not the only one. Academics and psychologists have studied the subject for years. But does it really matter? Do we care what the critics think? If we enjoy reading escapist fiction for pleasure and leisure, whether it takes us on a journey of personal development or just provides relief from the stresses and strains of modern life, if it feels good or it’s fun, let’s just dive into the story and lose ourselves for a while. The flooding of our blood and brain with all those feel-good hormones (look elsewhere for their names) has been shown to improve mental and physiological functions – so there you go: reading Escapist Fiction is good for you!
Geoff King 
No, not opposites. There is good and bad quality writing in both camps and each can be in each other’s, if that makes sense. I’m not a fan of pigeon holing.
Do you think escapist fiction and serious literature are truly opposites, or is that a false dichotomy?