Stacie Friend

Kendall Walton’s “Categories of Art” (1970) is one of the most important and influential papers in twentieth-century aesthetics. It is almost universally taken to refute traditional aesthetic formalism/empiricism, according to which all that matters aesthetically is what is manifest to perception. Most commentators assume that the argument of “Categories” applies to works of literature. Walton himself notes a word of caution: “The aesthetic properties of works of literature are not happily called ‘perceptual’ … (The notion of perceiving a work in a category … is not straightforwardly applicable to literary works)” (335 n.5). However, he goes on to say that although he focuses “on visual and musical works … the central points I make concerning them hold, with suitable modifications, for novels, plays, and poems as well” (335 n.5). Here I consider what “suitable modifications” are required to extend the account to literature.

Two assumptions are common in discussions of the paradox of tragedy: (1) that tragic pleasure requires that the work be fictional or, if non-fiction, then non-transparently represented; and (2) that tragic pleasure may be provoked by a wide variety of art forms. In opposition to (1) I argue that certain documentaries could produce tragic pleasure. This is not to say that any sad or painful documentary could do so. In considering which documentaries might be plausible candidates, I further argue, against (2), that the scope of tragic pleasure is limited to works that possess certain thematic and narrative features.

Book synopsis: New work on a hot topic by an outstanding team of authors At the intersection of several central areas of philosophy It is the linguistic job of singular terms to pick out the objects that we think or talk about. But what about singular terms that seem to fail to designate anything, because the objects they refer to don't exist? We can employ these terms in meaningful thought and talk, which suggests that they are succeeding in fulfilling their representational task. A team of leading experts presents new essays on the much-debated problem of empty reference and thought. In the 1960s and 1970s Keith Donnellan, David Kaplan, Saul Kripke and Hilary Putnam initiated a revolution in the then standard conception of reference—a concept at the core of philosophical inquiry. The repercussions of the revolution, particularly felt in metaphysics and epistemology, were soon refined by other influential writers such as Tyler Burge, Gareth Evans, and John Perry. They argued that some linguistic and mental representations have contents individuated by what they are about—by ordinary referents of expressions such as proper names, indexicals, definite descriptions and common nouns, i.e. by planets, people or natural kinds. The view was at odds with a central philosophical presumption at that time: that cognitive and linguistic access to objective reality is indirect and accidental, mediated by general descriptive characterizations, the only constitutive semantic feature of the expressions; hence its ontological and epistemological repercussions. A turning-point in the debate about how linguistic and mental representation reach external contents concerned the nature of empty mental and linguistic representations, framed by means of the very same expressions crucially invoked in the Donnellan-Kaplan-Kripke-Putnam arguments. The papers in this volume address different aspects of reference and thought about the non-existent.

If there are no fictional characters, how do we explain thought and discourse apparently about them? If there are, what are they like? A growing number of philosophers claim that fictional characters are abstract objects akin to novels or plots. They argue that postulating characters provides the most straightforward explanation of our literary practices as well as a uniform account of discourse and thought about fiction. Anti-realists counter that postulation is neither necessary nor straightforward, and that the invocation of pretense provides a better account of the same phenomena. I outline and assess these competing theories

The currently standard approach to fiction is to define it in terms of imagination. I have argued elsewhere that no conception of imagining is sufficient to distinguish a response appropriate to fiction as opposed to non-fiction. In her contribution Kathleen Stock seeks to refute this objection by providing a more sophisticated account of the kind of propositional imagining prescribed by so-called ‘fictive utterances’. I argue that although Stock's proposal improves on other theories, it too fails to provide an adequate criterion of fictionality. I conclude by sketching an alternative account according to which fiction is a genre.

I argue that judgments of what is ‘true in a fiction’ presuppose the Reality Assumption: the assumption that everything that is true is fictionally the case, unless excluded by the work. By contrast with the more familiar Reality Principle, the Reality Assumption is not a rule for inferring implied content from what is explicit. Instead, it provides an array of real-world truths that can be used in such inferences. I claim that the Reality Assumption is essential to our ability to understand stories, drawing on a range of empirical evidence that demonstrates our reliance on it in narrative comprehension. However, the Reality Assumption has several unintuitive consequences, not least that what is fictionally the case includes countless facts that neither authors nor readers could ever consider. I argue that such consequences provide no reason to reject the Reality Assumption. I conclude that we should take fictions, like non-fictions, to be about the real world.

In this paper, I review developments in discussions of fiction and emotion over the last decade concerning both the descriptive question of how to classify fiction-directed emotions and the normative question of how to evaluate those emotions. Although many advances have been made on these topics, a mistaken assumption is still common: that we must hold either that fiction-directed emotions are (empirically or normatively) the same as other emotions, or that they are different. I argue that we should reject this dichotomy.

A familiar question in the literature on emotional responses to fiction, originally put forward by Colin Radford, is how such responses can be rational. How can we make sense of pitying Anna Karenina when we know there is no such person? In this paper I argue that contrary to the usual interpretation, the question of rationality has nothing to do with the Paradox of Fiction. Instead, the real problem is why there is a divergence in our normative assessments of emotions in different contexts. I argue that explaining this divergence requires a more nuanced account of the rationality of emotion than has previously been proposed. One advantage of my proposal over alternatives is that it helps to explain one way we can learn emotionally from fiction and imagination.

Proper names in fiction and in discourse about fiction generate certain puzzles. How can claims like "Raskolnikov is Russian" be true if there is no Raskolnikov? If fiction involves make-believe rather than truth, why say that Nineteen Eighty-Four is about the real London? In my dissertation I argue that the key to resolving such puzzles is by considering the ways in which interpretations of works of fiction generate normative constraints on our imaginings. And I argue that traditional solutions fail both because they operate with inadequate theories of proper names, and because they do not recognize the centrality of interpretation and imagination to fiction-involving discourse. ;After laying out desiderata for my project in Chapter 1, in Chapter 2 I elaborate an account of the contents communicated by utterances that explains how even nonreferring names can be used to "talk about the same thing." In Chapter 3 I argue that to classify a narrative as fiction is to link it to a certain historical practice, one whose standards of interpretation and assessment evolve over time. Because this theory does not define fiction in terms of general semantic properties, it allows us to recognize the variety of roles both referring and nonreferring names can play in different works. Chapter 4 surveys some of these roles, developing an account of our judgments of truth and fictional correctness for particular works. ;In the last two chapters I turn to an analysis of proper names in utterances about fiction. In Chapter 5 I argue that once we recognize the relativity to interpretation of the contents communicated by these utterances, we should maintain that referring names in discourse about fiction designate their ordinary referents in their ordinary way. In Chapter 6 I develop a conception of pretend reference that explains how utterances containing empty names can be true, without assuming that these names have special meanings or that they refer to nonexistent or abstract objects. The result is a unified, systematic theory of proper names across a wide range fiction-involving discourse that does justice to our imaginative engagement with fiction