FICTION ADDICTION - extract from 'The Race', by Dr John White

Fiction used to be an escape for me.  I took to it like an alcoholic to whisky.  When problems or unwelcome tasks made life unpleasant, I could slide through an invisible doorway into a private dreamworld where both my friends' voices and my conscience became muted and distant.  Reading was a kind of debauchery.  I read compulsively, voraciously.  Each morning I groped under my pillow for the book I'd been reading the night before.  I even had literary hangovers.  Emerging from my reading depressed, irritable and absent-minded, reality would seem flatter, problems greater and unwelcome tasks more unbearable.  Prayer would become a chore; Bible reading, lifeless.  Unconsciously I would look for escape in the Bible, but since the Bible was not designed as a means of escape, it let me down.

I was aware of my problem and made serious attempts to solve it.  Confining my reading to the works of acknowledged masters, I parried the thrusts of my conscience by pointing out that I was absorbing culture.  But even literary masterpieces can be used as a means of escape.  Eventually my "controlled" reading became less controlled.  After a while anything would serve: classics, "Christian" fiction, detective stories, love stories.  The most discerning connoisseurs of wines will drink methylated spirits if they become desperate alcoholics.  They drink because they have to, not because they enjoy it.  My reading had become like that.

Eventually God changed me, and my cultural loss was insignificant beside my spiritual gain.  My solution was the same as the alcoholic's: total abstinence.  I took down from my bookshelves every work of fiction (allowing myself only non-fiction works and allegories - Bunyan, Lewis and a few others), lovingly packed the precious volumes into an enormous crate, and gave the whole lot to a friend who was studying English literature (I'm not sure which was greater, his bewilderment or his gratitude).  It was like throwing open the windows and doors of my mind to reality's warm sun and fresh air.  I stopped dreaming and began to live.  It was a major step forward in my spiritual life.  I'm not suggesting, however, that in order to become more spiritual everyone must do the same.  My point is simply that fiction (whether in books or in movies) is an uncontrollable escape mechanism for some Christians.  It may have started innocently by enjoying Tolkien but turned into a consuming addiction to fantasy in general.  In such cases its harmful effects are much greater than its benefits.  If this is true of you, then I do recommend total abstinence.  For you, reading fiction or going to a movie may represent temptation.  The biblical recommendation is that we flee temptation, not that we try to control it.

That was years ago.  I no longer have such a great need for escape as I had then.  I've discovered that it never pays to run away from life, but that life, especially when lived in fellowship with Jesus Christ, holds deep joy and solid satisfaction.  I'm now too busy doing things I enjoy to want to escape.  I can't remember how I began reading fiction again, except that abstinence gradually ceased to be a matter of importance.  When I read, I found that fiction had less fascination for me, that I was more critical of what I read.  I read for relaxation, not for escape, though to be honest there are still times (perhaps I've been overworking or am under strain) when I am aware that the line between relaxation and escape is hard to distinguish.  Of course, I still have to be careful with fiction.  But now my problem is when to read and what to read.

I cannot adopt "Christian fiction and no other kind" as a rule of thumb'.  I have found that some "Christian" fiction is Christian only in the sense that it sentimentalises the gospel.  Much of it is sanctimonious trash in which the girl both becomes a Christian and gets the fellow (perhaps not the original fellow, but always the nicest one).  The contrast between bad fiction or film-making by Christians and good fiction or film-making by non-Christians set me thinking about what makes it good or bad.  Literature professors could doubtless give clearer criteria, but I have been thinking the matter out for myself as a Christian.  I'm not qualified to suggest criteria by which "good" literature or "good" movies can be measured, but as a Christian I'm beginning to discern what is good for me.  Among the things I appreciate are reality, sincerity and the ability to portray a truly human problem with both charity and clarity.

By reality I mean faithfulness in portraying life as it is rather than rearranging life to make it what the writer would like it to be (which is what many "Christian" writers do).  A literary critic commented that as you finished reading War and Peace, Tolstoy's masterpiece, you said, "That's life!" This quality demands not only unique powers of observation and insight, but a kind of disciplined honesty in writing.  I appreciate realism in literature and film because it helps me look at life and myself with clearer eye than I am sometimes able to do on my own.

But realism itself raises problems.  Realistic writing doesn't evade sin, and I've had to face the question of how profitable it is to read about sin.  It's a touchy subject, and once again it would be easy for me to make a flat rule to avoid any books or movies that refer, say, to sexual sin. But in practice such a rule is hard to apply.  There is an infinite gradation from oblique allusion to frankly erotic description.  The same is true of references to brutality and hatred.  Moreover, the Bible doesn't ignore sinful acts". Purity in thought, evidently, is something more profound than merely closing one's eyes to sin.  Sexual sin and temptation are an integral part of life as we experience it.  They are woven into the tangled problems of life in the same say as pride and ambition.  Ignoring sexual problems in art, (just as ignoring them in life) is itself to fantasize, of a world that doesn't exist.

Of course, there are ways of dealing with certain matters which are realistic yet chaste.  A great deal depends on the writers' attitudes.  As I read I look at life through their eyes.  Ideally, in their own minds, they should neither condone the sin nor condemn the sinner.  Nevertheless, I find I must avoid all reading that in any way sexually stimulates me or diminishes my horror of sin.  The same is true for movie-going.  However justified the writer was in writing as he did, I know I'm not justified in reading it if I begin to elicit even the mildest sexual pleasure from it.  And this happens.  My problem at this point (especially if I am away from home) is that a kind of sexual chain reaction can start up, which leads from erotic images to sexual tension.  I believe I am fairly normal in this.

Sincerity has a purifying effect on what a writer writes.  By sincerity, I mean the honesty with which the writer addresses me rather than merely plays on my emotions.  Some writers (just like some preachers) have made such a habit of being insincere that they are unaware of the tricks they employ.  Their whole outlook is governed by a desire to produce an effect on the reader.  Their aim is not so much to share an insight (some have none to share) as to shock, dazzle or harrow the reader.  Exaggeration, crude sensationalism and appeals to self-pity may he used in this way.  So may pornography.  Writers of romance novels might adopt the practice of harrowing me with the cruel sufferings of the genteel heroine.  In pitying the heroine I am really pitying myself, as I tearfully imagine wicked people and frightful coincidences reducing me to extremities of misunderstanding and abuse.  Whatever the device, authors are playing on my weaknesses.  They are tickling me in my emotional ribs, and like a dog I stretched my limbs in an ecstasy of appreciation.  They know what I want, and they shamelessly make themselves' my accomplice.  Their insincerity and my weakness are our mutual undoing.

Such devices are not needed to secure my interest.  Life itself is fascinating.  Real people are absorbing if seen through perceiving eyes.  Good writers use vision where bad ones employ tricks.  When I put down a good book I am humbled.  I find myself saying, "That is me all over but I've never realized it before." One book offers me an escape from myself, while another shows me myself or my neighbours in a way that helps me understand them better.  And this is just as true of films.  Having seen Gandhi, I shall never feel the same about India.

I realize that stories, with the exception of allegories, are not tracts.  But at the same time I appreciate those that deal kindly and realistically with human problems.  It is here that Christian fiction on the whole has failed.  Some people may object to my remark about the heroines in the "Christian" novel getting the "best" man.  After all, doesn't God give us the best if we leave the choice to him?  True enough.  But what constitutes "the best"?  The most handsome husband?  The most talented?  And how do these couples in "Christian" fiction face life?  What kinds of doubts and problems beset them once they're married?  How understanding are their Christian friends?  How do they manage their children?  In real life couples sin, face severe difficulties and even fail.  Pastors find themselves counselling many such couples, .but rarely is this represented in "Christian" fiction.  Yet my purpose isn't to criticize Christian literature, but to explain why I personally often prefer certain non-Christian writers who seem both more sincere and more truthful.

Some of my friends have asked whether I ever read whodunits.  Yes, occasionally, especially when I'm tired or want a break.  Detective stories seldom provide new insights into human problems.  They are written for entertainment; and if I read them, I read them as such.  I think of them in the same category as crossword puzzles, but to me they are much more interesting.  Yet even in this I have to be discerning'.  Many modern mysteries glory in the seamy facets of life, “in dirt, dames, dope, dipsomania”.  I like realism - when realism serves a useful purpose.  But I read detective stories for entertainment; and I dare not find entertainment in dirt.  My favourite mystery writers (I don't profess to be an expert) are G. K. Chesterton, Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie,

Reading fiction and going to movies are two of many activities about which the Bible gives no specific commands.  I have tried to spotlight problems and clarify one or two principles.  All of us should open our Bibles to think and pray about our own attitudes.  The Bible, although it does not give specific commands, does deal with attitudes and principles that can be applied to fiction as well as to any other part of modern life.  Let me mention a few by asking some questions.,,,,

• Is it my master?  If so, I should remember that no one can serve two masters, for he will love one and hate the other (Mat 6:24).

• Does it help me escape from life, or does it point me to life?  My loins should be girded about with truth (Eph 6: 11).  Among other things, truth implies a certain attitude to life, an attitude in which I continually face myself as I am, and my neighbours and God as they are.  I don't escape to a world of illusion.  On the other hand, I welcome anything that helps me see more clearly.

• Is it wholesome?  As a general rule it is desirable for me to think about pure things, lovely things, things of good report (Phil 4:8).  I cannot altogether avoid thinking of sin, nor is this the purpose behind Paul's recommendation.  But is my thinking about sin wholesome and constructive?  Will it sharpen my sensitivity to sin, or help me to deal more understandingly with others who get tangled in it?  Some works of fiction may be of real service here.  Others are definitely anaesthesia to our conscience.

• Am I (with books and movies as well as everything else) being a good steward of my time?  Do I read fiction when I should be praying?  (Honesty but not morbid introspection or super-spiritual pietism is what I need at this point).

• If the ultimate aim of my life is to know Christ, to what extent does it contribute to or impede my progress in this direction?

Some friends of mine who study art place great stress on "artistic integrity".  They seem to view an artist's creative activity as amoral.  "Let him be true to his art and he will produce something of intrinsic value.  Don't measure its value with an ethical yardstick.  That would be like condemning a carpet because it can't be used for a Kleenex.  The argument is out of focus with Christian truth.  Artistic creations represent human activity.  Human activity takes place within a moral framework, for "in him [a moral Being] we [whether Christian or non-Christian] live and move and have our being" (Acts 17 :28).  Our lives and activities can only be evaluated properly when viewed in relation to God.  We can no more take such activity out of its moral context than we can take ourselves outside God's sovereignty.

More to the point (for I'm not primarily concerned with' artistic values per se), the book or movie or play does produce an effect on me.  Whatever its artistic quality, it influences me (for good or ill) when I interact with it.  In a coming day when my life is reviewed and its actions tried by fire, I shall give account of how I used my mind and body, and why.

I am thinking out my answers now.