“Suspension of disbelief or willing suspension of disbelief is a term coined in 1817 by the poet and aesthetic philosopher Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who suggested that if a writer could infuse a “human interest and a semblance of truth” into a fantastic tale, the reader would suspend judgment concerning the implausibility of the narrative.
Suspension of disbelief often applies to fictional works of the action, comedy, fantasy, and horror genres.”
Dear readers, this is my text for the week and the reason I spend a lot of time wishing to strangle my Beloved. Obviously I love him dearly, and he tolerates my snoring and the fact that my cooking is usually singed as I’m so easily distracted, but he does have one terrible habit.
Recently I have been watching Sons of Anarchy – I like the soundtrack so I thought I might enjoy the series. It has Ron Perlman and Katey Sagal and Jimmy Smits and Henry Rollins and other good people in it. It has redemption arcs and romance, and while I want to tell Charlie Hunnam to pull his trousers up I am, indeed, enjoying it. Yes, it’s all about a biker club who are – by their own admission – breaking the law and generally not being very nice people but (and this is an important but) it’s a work of fiction and thus requires the suspension of disbelief. This is the whole point of fiction.
What, I hear you ask, does this have to do with wishing to strangle my Beloved? Surely he is also enjoying it? After all, there were seven series so it must have had something going for it. Make yourselves comfortable and I shall tell you all…
My Beloved, bless his little cotton socks, can be positively transported by hours and hours of hairy-footed hobbits, orcs, appalling space operas like Zack Snyder’s truly bloody self-indulgent and awful Rebel Moon I and II (which he is watching again, and if anything didn’t need a director’s cut it was that), smug pointy-eared blonds elf-splaining Elven lore via inescapably dire scripts like Amazon’s latest Middle Earth epic, Vikings with suspiciously perfect teeth, and Korean zombies/demons/spirits from the vasty deep. He waits with bated breath for the next series of all these things and insists on rewatching the previous series before starting the new one. This can get wearing, especially when he rewinds a bit in case he missed something important in this series he’s watched before. Bear in mind, please, that he frequently cannot remember that he’s seen the film at least twice before, until something completely minor happens and it brings back total recall. I call these his Father Dougal moments.
He cannot, however, watch a single moment of SOA without loudly critiquing their every move for not being realistic. They made their choices, he says. They are criminals and her husband was a criminal so of course she was killed! Live by the sword, he declares. Die by the sword! She is an accessory after the fact! Guilt by association! She is aiding and abetting! Why does no one come and shoot them at home? I, on the other hand, accept that it’s fiction and not a moral fable, at that, and am happy to see where the story goes*. If I wanted a factual account of biker gangs in California I would be watching a different programme on a different channel: I don’t, so I’m not. He also argues with Midsomer, most other crime dramas and – actually – most of my other TV choices on the same basis, up to and including Doctor Who. He says these things loudly and in a tone of mild outrage and disbelief, as if fiction is not allowed to be unrealistic. This, dear reader, is why I am the patient, tolerant being that you all know and love. It’s the act of not strangling him for twenty years.
*My main question about SOA is how Katey Sagal hasn’t changed a bit in 30 years and looks younger now than she did in Married with Children in 1987.
Things making me happy this week
- Taking part in the Miller Knoll Day of Purpose on Tuesday, helping them prep for a community event in December. Cutting and sticking and making stuff! Fabric galore! A tour of their showrooms! Excellent chairs!
- A five mile walk on Saturday morning – no baby cows but a happy pig snuggled up in his straw bed and a friendly cat.
- Starting the countdown to National Illustration Day with a series of weekly challenges
- The end of the anticyclonic gloom being in sight – can we have some sunshine now please?
- Tea and a catch-up with Miriam
- A Saturday sticking PDF patterns together and cutting out fabric to sew up on Sunday, painting boxes for my stall and making a new sign
- See the works on site underway – sh*t’s getting real….
- Putting my pixie hat on and getting the office Secret Santa underway…
And now it’s sewing time!
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
Babes in the Wood/The Ghost of Ivy Barn – Mark Stay. Also The End of Magic by him but it was so awful I returned it. Luckily it was on Kindle Unlimited.
Unruly – David Mitchell
Wild City: |Encounters with Urban Wildlife – Florence Wilkinson
Twisted Twenty-six/Fortune and Glory – Janet Evanovich (Audible)
What Kirsty did next 