American Society for Aesthetics Wiley

American Society for Aesthetics
Wiley
Fear, Fiction and Make-Believe
Author(s): Alex Neill
Source: The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, Vol. 49, No. 1 (Winter, 1991), pp. 47-56
Published by: Wiley on behalf of American Society for Aesthetics
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/431648
Accessed: 18-10-2015 21:49 UTC
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/
info/about/policies/terms.jsp
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content
in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship.
For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].
American Society for Aesthetics and Wiley are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The
Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism.
http://www.jstor.org
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
ALEX NEILL
Fear,Fiction and Make-Believe
I
Charles is watching a horrormovie about a terrible
green slime. He cringes in his seat as the slime oozes
slowly but relentlessly over the earth destroying
everything in its path. Soon a greasy head emerges
from the undulatingmass, and two beady eyes roll
around, finally fixing on the camera. The slime,
picking up speed, oozes on a new course straight
towards the viewers. Charles emits a shriek and
clutchesat his chair.Afterwards,still shaken,Charles
confesses that he was "terrified" of the slime. Was
he?'
Thus KendallWaltonbegins his much-discussed
paper "Fearing Fictions." His answer is that
Charleswas not, literally speaking, afraidof the
slime: "to construe [our affective responses to
fiction] as consisting of our having psychological attitudestowardsfictional entities is, I think,
to tolerate mystery and court confusion" (FF,
p. 6).
The problemthatWaltonpointsto has its roots
in a cognitive, essentially Aristotelian,theory of
emotion.2 On this theory, the emotions are (at
least partly) defined in terms of evaluativebeliefs orjudgments. Centralto pity, for example,
is a belief that the object of one's emotion is in
some sense a victim of misfortune;and as Walton says, "it seems a principleof common-sense,
one which ought not to be abandonedif there is
any reasonablealternative,thatfear [foroneself]
must be accompanied by, or must involve, a
belief thatone is in danger"(FF pp. 6-7). While
this theory has gained increasing acceptance
among philosophers, it raises a numberof problems with respect to certain of our affective
responses to fiction. Since I do not believe that
Conrad'scharacterWinnie Verloceverexisted, I
do not believe thatshe was in any way a victim of
misfortune.WhateverI may feel for her, then, it
would seem that it cannotproperlybe described
as pity. As Waltonsays, "Charlesdoes not believe thathe is in danger;so he is not afraid"(FF,
pp. 6-7); and for similar reasons, "when it is
said that someone pities Willy Loman, or worries about Tom and Becky, or detests lago, or
envies Superman,what is said is probablynot
literallytrue" (FF, p. 21).
A number of philosophers have concluded
that it is not logically possible that we should
experience emotions the objects of which, we
know, do not exist. 3 But if manyof our affective
responses to fiction are not properlydescribed
as emotions, then how are they to be described?
What kind of responses are our affective responses to what we know to be fictional? It is
arguablethat being moved in certain ways by a
workof fiction can be a criterionof understanding thatwork;4and writersfrom Aristotleto the
Romanticshave arguedthat the fact that fiction
can elicit affective responsesfromus constitutes
a central part of the reason why we value it.
These claims will remainpartly mysteriousunless we can say what it is thatfictionmovesus to.
We need to be able to say whatkindof responses
are our affective responses to what we know to
be fictional. If we areto havea coherentphilosophy of emotion (and without it there can be no
coherentphilosophyof mind), and a persuasive
account of the nature and value of aesthetic
experience, then we need to be able to describe
adequately the affective aspects of that experience.
Broadly speaking, it appears that what we
requireis a way of redescribingCharles's"fear"
of the slime monsterand my "pity" for Winnie
Verlocthat explains the inclinationthat we have
to describethese responsesas emotions, without
either distortingtheir characteror violating the
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism 49:1 Winter 1991
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism
48
constraintson any such redescriptionimposed
by the cognitive account of emotion.5 The most
sophisticated, and influential, account of this
sort thathas been offered to date is Walton's.He
suggests that statementsattributingto a person
emotions the objects of which are knownby that
person to be fictional are to be understood as
occurringwithin the scope of the operator"It is
make-believe that ..." The psychological state
of a personwho "pities"Willy Loman, or "worries" about Tom Sawyer and Becky lost in the
cave, or "hates"lago, or "envies" Superman:
is a result of his awareness of certain make-believe
truths: that make-believedly Willy is an innocent
victim of cruel circumstances, that make-believedly
Tom and Becky might perish in the cave, that makebelievedly Jago deceived Othello about Desdemona,
that make-believedly Supermancan do almost anything. Thefact that theperson'spsychological state is
as it is, and is caused by such beliefs, makes it makebelieve that he pities Willy, worries about Tomand
Beck',rhates lago, or envies Superman. (FF, p. 21;
emphasisadded)
the readeror spectator.Explainingthis, he asks
us to imagine a child playing an ordinarygame
of make-believewith his father,who is pretending to be a vicious monster.In such a game the
child "is perfectly aware that his fatheris only
'playing,' that the whole thing is 'just a game,'
and that only make-believedlyis there a vicious
monster after him. He is not really afraid."
However, while the child is not really afraid,
"make-believedlythe child is in grave and mortal danger. And when the child screams and
runs, make-believedlyhe knows that he is in
dangerand is afraid"(FF, p. 13, emphasisadded). The idea is thatCharlesis to be regardedas
analogous to the child, while the slime plays
(something like) the role of the father. The
movie makes it fictionallythe case thatthereis a
ferocious green slime on the loose, apparently
unstoppable,and with a refinedtaste for human
flesh. By itself, the movie generatesno fictional
truthsconcerningCharles.However,in responding to the movie Charlesenters into a game of
make-believe, and this game generates makebelieve truthswhich do concernhim. Relativeto
this game:
Walton'ssubtle and complex account has been
highly influential; however, it has also often
been misunderstood. In what follows, I shall
consider some of the criticisms that have been
levelled at it, with a view to gettingclearerabout
the details of the account. This will pavethe way
for a discussion of what I shall argue to be its
genuine flaws.
At the heart of Walton'saccount lies his suggestion that in respondingto a work of fiction I
may, and typically do, enter into a game of
make-believein whichI use the workas a "prop."
Such games of make-believe, as well as representationalworks of art, can generate fictional
truths. For example, in a game of mud-pies, it
may be fictionally true that Sally's pie is larger
than Johnny's. What makes this fictionally the
case is (a) the fact that Sally's glob of mud is
largerthanJohnny's,and (b) the existence of an
acceptedprinciple, or rule, of the game, according to which the size of globs of muddetermines
the size of pies. Waltoncalls fictional truthsthat
are established by games of this sort makebelieve truths. In much the same way that globs
of mud can function as props in a game of mudpies, he suggests, a workof fiction may function
as a prop in a game of make-believeplayed by
When the slime raises its head, spies the camera, and
begins oozing towards it, it is make-believe that
Charles is threatened.And when as a result Charles
gasps and grips the armof his chair,make-believedly
he is afraid. Charles is playing a game of makebelieve in which he uses the images on the screen as a
prop. (FF,p. 13; emphasisadded)
This is the kernel of Walton's account. What
makes it make-believethatCharlesis threatened
by the slime are the facts that(a) the slime oozes
towards the camera, and that (b) there is an
accepted principle or rule of the game which
Charlesis playingwith the movie, this principle
states that when the slime oozes towards the
camera the spectator is threatenedby it. Not
only is it make-believethatCharlesis threatened
by the slime, it is also make-believedlythe case
that Charles is afraid. What makes it makebelieve that Charles is afraid is partly the fact
that he has the feelings and sensations that go
with his increasedpulse-rate,musculartension,
surges of adrenalin, and so on. Walton labels
this physiological/psychological state "quasifear." However, Charles's feelings and sensations are not by themselves sufficientto make it
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
Neill
49
Fear, Fiction and Make-Believe
make-believe that he is afraid, any more than his
experiencing these feelings and sensations in
different circumstances would be sufficient to
make it actually the case that Charles was afraid
rather than angry or excited. As in a case of
actual emotion, Charles's beliefs play a determining role:
Charlesbelieves (he knows) that make-believedlythe
green slime is bearing down on him and he is in
dangerof being destroyedby it. His quasi-fearresults
from this belief. What makes it make-believe that
Charlesis afraidratherthan angry or excited or upset
is the fact that his quasi-fear is caused by the belief
that make-believedlyhe is in danger. And his belief
thatmake-believedlyit is the slime thatendangershim
is what makes it make-believe that the slime is the
object of his fear. In short, my suggestion is this: the
fact thatCharlesis quasi-afraidas a resultof realizing
that make-believedlythe slime threatenshim generates the truththat make-believedlyhe is afraidof the
slime. (FFEp. 14)
It is make-believe that Charles is afraid inasmuch as his experience of "quasi-fear" (that is,
of the sensations and feelings characteristic of
actual fear) is caused not by a belief that he is
actually in danger (if it were, he would actually
be afraid), but rather by his belief or realization
that it is make-believedly the case that he is in
danger.
In the course of a paper on the nature of
horror, Noel Carroll characterizes Walton's account of our affective responses to what we
know to be fictional as "The Pretend Theory."
The problem with the account, he argues, "is
that though ingenious, it does not seem descriptively accurate. When I am art-horrified by
Dracula I am in a genuine emotional state, not a
pretend state. "6 Similarly, David Novitz argues
that "Walton ... maintains that anyone who
properly understands fiction is never actually
moved by fictional events. Rather, it is only
make-believe true that the reader is so moved. "7
However, Novitz argues, we can only makebelieve that we are afraid if we believe that we
are not really afraid:
The trouble is that many theatre-goersand readers
believe thatthey are actually upset, excited, amused,
afraid, and even sexually aroused by the exploits of
fictional characters.It seems altogetherinappropriate
merein suchcasesto maintain
thatourtheatre-goers
ly make-believethat they are in these emotional
states.8
Leaving aside Novitz's ratherodd groupingtogetherof amusement,fear, sexual arousalandso
on, let us grant that Charles believes that he is
actuallyafraid.Butgrantingthis does not weaken
Walton'scase at all. For on Walton'stheory, it
can be make-believedlythe case that A is in a
certain state S even though A believes that he is
actually S. The real problemwith Novitz's critique is that he, along with Carroll, takes Walton's references to "quasi-fear" and "makebelieve"to suggestthatin Walton'sview Charles
only pretendsto feel what he does, and so is not
actually moved. Similarly, Bijoy Boruah suggests thatin Walton'sview, "ourbeing movedby
characters in fiction ... is not a case of really
being moved."9Like CarrollandNovitz, Boruah
argues that this is simply false: some of us, he
claims, are really movedby fiction.
The suggestion that in respondingto fiction
we only pretendto be moved is extremely implausible;so much so, indeed, thatthe readiness
of Walton'scritics to attributeit to him is somewhat surprising.Whatthese writersmiss is that
the fact that Charles is genuinely moved by the
horrormovie-the fact that he has the feelings
and sensationsthatWaltonlabels "quasi-fear"is precisely what motivates Walton'saccount.
By labellingthis kindof state "quasi-fear,"Walton is not suggestingthatit consists of feigned or
pretended,ratherthan actual, feelings and sensations. (Indeed,it is hardto see whata "feigned
sensation" might amount to.) Rather, Walton
labelsCharles'sphysiological/psychologicalstate
"quasi-fear"to markthe fact thatwhat his feelings and sensations are feelings and sensations
of is precisely what is at issue.
It is just wrong, then, to say that Walton
"altogether overlooks the fact that an imaginative response to fiction can generate beliefs
aboutfictionaleventswhich are capableof moving us-even though we know that the events
portrayed in the work have not actually occurred."10 In fact, that an imaginativeresponse
to fiction can generate beliefs about fictional
charactersand events (in Walton'sterms, beliefs
about what is make-believedlythe case) which
are capableof genuinely moving us is precisely
what Walton proposes. On his view, we can
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism
50
actually be moved by works of fiction, but it is
make-believethat what we are moved to is fear.
In suggesting that it is make-believedly rather
than actually the case that Charles is afraid,
Waltonis offering a way of describingCharles's
actual affective state so as to avoid distorting
either that state or the concept of fear. He is not
suggesting that Charles'sresponse to the green
slime is merely pretendedor feigned, nor denying thatCharlesis actuallymoved.
II
Walton'stheory is to be understoodas an attempt
to give us a way of characterizingour affective
responses to what we know to be fictional that
both capturesthe fact thatthese responsescan be
(at least) very like emotions, and avoids violating the constraintsimposed on any such characterization by the cognitive theory of emotion.
However, does the notion of experiencing emotions "make-believedly"have real explanatory
value? We may begin to answerthis questionby
takinga closer look at what, on Walton'stheory,
makes it a make-believe truth that Charles is
afraidof the green slime. Partly it is the fact that
Charles experiences "quasi-fear"as a result of
believing that make-believedlythe slime threatens him (FFEp. 14). However,factsaboutCharles
are not by themselvessufficientto make it makebelieve that Charlesis afraid. In orderfor this to
be make-believedlythe case, there must be an
acceptedprinciplegoverningthe game of makebelieve that he plays using the horrormovie as a
prop, this principle states that when Charles
experiences "quasi-fear"as a resultof believing
that make-believedlyhe is threatened,then it is
make-believethatCharlesis afraid.
Is it reasonableto assumethatsuch a principle
is in fact recognized or understood to be in
force? The first point to notice is that no such
principle is publicly recognized. That is to say,
there is no convention according to which if
Charlesexperiences "quasi-fear"as a result of
believing that make-believedlyhe is threatened,
then it is make-believedly the case that he is
afraid. However,Waltoncontends thatthere is a
privately recognizedprincipleto this effect, and
thatthis principleis recognizedby Charles,who:
is simplydisposedto thinkof himselfas fearingthe
slime, withoutdecidingto do so, whenduringthe
movie he feels his heart racing, his muscles tensed,
and so forth. It is just such a dispositionas this ... that
goes with implicit recognitionof a principleof makebelieve. If a child is disposedto imaginea pie to be six
inches across when he discoversthatthis is the size of
a glob of mud, this makes it reasonableto regardhim
as recognizing a principle whereby the glob's being
that size makes it make-believethat the pie is also.
(FF,p. 16)
Hence, Walton argues, "Charles'stendency to
imagine himself as afraidof the slime when he
finds himself in the relevantmental state constitutespersuasivegroundsfor attributingto him
acceptance of a principle whereby his experience makes it make-believethathe is afraid."
Walton'sargumenthere is not convincing. If
we are going to attributeprinciplesto Charlesat
all, why should we not simply say that his disposition to think of and describe himself as
afraid when he experiences quasi-fear constitutes persuasivegrounds for attributingto him
acceptanceof a principle whereby this experience makes it actually the case that he is afraid?
Waltonmight respondby drawingour attention
back to the game of mud-pies. After all, surely
the fact thatthe childrenare disposedto thinkof
Sally's pie as larger than Johnny'sdoes not licence our attributingto them acceptance of a
principle according to which if A has a larger
glob of mud than B then A actually has a larger
pie thanB?
Indeed not; however, the two cases are not
exactly analogous. For one need not be very
sophisticatedto understandthat globs of mud
are not actuallypies. However,one does need to
be fairly sophisticated to know that Charles's
statecannotliterallybe describedas one of fear,
or that the statement "Charlesis afraid of the
slime" is not literallytrue. Inasmuchas it would
be illegitimateto assumethatthe childrencannot
see the difference between pastry and mud, it
would be illegitimateto attributeto them acceptance of a principle according to which if A's
glob of mud is largerthan B's then A (actually)
has a largerpie thanB. But since it would not be
illegitimateto assume thatCharlesis not particularly well-versed in the philosophyof mind, it
is far from clear that it would be illegitimate
to attributeto Charles, on the grounds that he
pre-reflectivelythinks of and describes himself
as afraid of the slime, acceptance of a (fal-
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
51
Neill Fear, Fiction and Make-Believe
lacious) principle according to which his experience of "quasi-fear"makes him (actually)
afraid.It is certainlypossible thatin doing so we
should be under-estimatingCharles. However,
the alternative that Walton advocates-attributing to Charles acceptance of a sophisticated
principle of make-believe-runs a far greater
risk of over-estimatinghim.
I suggest, then, thatthereare no good grounds
for attributingto Charlesacceptanceof a principle accordingto which his experience makes it
make-believedlythe case that he is afraid. And
given thatsuch a principlemustbe understoodto
be in force in orderfor it to be make-believethat
Charles is afraid, it would appearthat we must
conclude that it is no more make-believedlythe
case than it is actually the case that Charles is
afraid. However, this conclusion would be too
hasty. For while I thinkthatthe argumentI have
offered shows that Walton'stheory is not convincing as it stands, the theory may nonetheless
be valuable if recast as prescriptive ratherthan
descriptive in form. Although no principle according to which Charles'sexperience makes it
make-believedlythe case that he is afraid is in
fact either publicly or privately recognized as
being in force, perhaps we should understand
Walton'saccount as recommendingthat such a
principlebe adopted. If it were, we should have
availableto us a new vocabulary-as spelled out
by Walton-in which to describe and discuss a
set of responses and psychological states which
have proved extremely difficult to describe or
classify adequatelyin our existing language of
mind and emotion. In consideringthis proposal,
Ockhamistconsiderationsshould remain to the
fore: is the vocabulary that Walton offers us
of sufficient explanatory value to justify its
adoption?
On Walton's theory, part of what makes it
make-believethat Charles is afraidof the green
slime is the fact that his "quasi-fear" results
from his belief that make-believedly he is in
danger from or threatenedby the slime. In a
footnote, Waltonwrites:
One can't help wondering why Charles'srealization
that make-believedlyhe is in dangerproduces quasifear in him, why it brings abouta state similarto real
fear, even though he knows he is not really in danger.
This is important,but we need not speculate about it
here. For now we need only note that Charles'sbelief
does result in quasi-fear, however this fact is to be
explained. (FF, p. 14, n. 10)
This is much too quick. We do, I think, need to
speculateaboutthis matter,for the causal background of the feelings and sensations that one
experiences in respondingto a work of fiction
plays a crucialrole in Walton'saccount. And the
claim that Charles's "quasi-fear"is caused by
his belief that it is make-believedlythe case that
he is in dangerfrom the slime is, on the face of
it, most implausible.
To see this, suppose that I walk throughthe
middle of a child's game of mud-pies, inadvertently stepping on little Johnny's carefully
craftedglob of mud. Johnnyburstsinto floods of
tears, and I realize (having in the past played
games of this sort myself) that it is makebelievedly the case that I have just ruined a
beautifulpie. Naturallyenough, I am somewhat
distressed. However,shouldwe say here thatthe
cause of my distress is my belief that makebelievedly I have ruined a pie? I think not, for
there is a simpler and far more plausibleexplanation available to us: I am distressed because
Johnnyis distressed,or becauseI havedistressed
Johnny.Comparethis to the case in whichJohnny
inadvertentlysteps on and flattenshis own glob
of mud. Again, he is likely to be distressed at
this, and again we might say-following Walton's theory-that the cause of his distress is his
belief that make-believedly he has ruined his
pie. But, again, there is a better explanation
availableto us. Johnnyis distressednot because
he believes that it is make-believethat he has
ruinedhis pie, but ratherbecause he is makingbelieve that he has ruined it. The difference
between Johnnyand me is that his standpointis
internalto the game, mine is external. Fromthe
external standpoint,one has beliefs about what
is make-believedlythe case relativeto the game.
Fromthe internalstandpoint,one makes-believe.
Comparethe child playing "monsters"with his
father. I walk in on the scene, realize what is
going on, and stay to see how the game progresses. One of the crucial differencesbetween
me and the child is that I know (I believe) that
make-believedlythe child is being stalkedby a
ferocious monster;the child makes-believethat
he is being so stalked. This difference explains
why it is that our responses differ; while he
experiences "quasi-fear,"I am merely amused,
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism
52
or indifferent. My standpointis external to the
game; the child's standpointis internal.II
In claiming that Charles's "quasi-fear" is
caused by his belief that it is make-believethat
he is threatened,Waltonis in effect suggesting
that Charles'sstandpointis externalto the game
of make-believehe plays using the horrormovie
as a prop, as my standpointis external to the
games in the examples above. It is this that
makes the fact that Charlesexperiences "quasifear"mysterious-just as it wouldbe mysterious
if I, watchingthe child playing "monsters"with
his fatherand believingthatit is make-believedly
the case that he is being attackedby a monster,
were to become concerned for his safety. Despite what Walton actually says, however, his
accountimplies thatCharles'sperspectiveon the
game is not externalbutinternal(or perhapsthat
it is both). As we have seen, the theoryholds that
we are to understandCharlesas playing a game
of make-believeusing the movie as a prop. And
to be playing a game of make-believe-as opposed to merely observingit-is to havean internal perspective on it. Once we recognize that
Charles'sstandpointis internal, and thus thathe
makes-believethat he is threatenedby the slime
ratherthanmerelybelievesthatit is make-believe
that he is threatened, the mystery as to why
Charlesexperiences "quasi-fear"dissolves.
We should not be content, then, as Walton
suggests thatwe should, with simply noting that
Charles's"quasi-fear"resultsfrom his believing
thatmake-believedlyhe is threatened.There is a
far more plausible explanation available to us:
Charles's"quasi-fear"results from his makingbelieve that he is threatened.Thus Walton'saccount of what makes it make-believedlythe case
that Charlesis afraidof the green slime needs to
be modifiedas follows: Make-believedly,Charles
is afraid of the slime if his making-believethat
he is threatenedby or in danger from it causes
him to experience "quasi-fear."However,while
this modification gives us a more satisfactory
formulationof whatconstitutes"make-believedly
fearing" something than does the original, it
also threatensthe scope of the theory as a whole.
Walton suggests that his treatmentof Charles's
response to the slime "can serve as a model for
understandingother psychological attitudesostensibly directed toward fictional things" (FF,
p. 21). Thus he suggests that "envy," "pity,"
"concern"and "hatred"for fictional characters
should all be understood,like Charles's"fear,"
as "make-believeemotions." But if the account
of "make-believe fear" is modified as I have
suggested thatit mustbe, then it cannotserve as
a model for understandingall the other psychological attitudesthatWaltonmentions. It should
be noticed that one important difference between "fearing"the slime and "pitying"Winnie
Verloc (say) is that it is at least plausibleto hold
thatfear necessarilyinvolves feelings and sensations (Walton's"quasi-fear").I have arguedthat
we haveto understandCharlesas making-believe
that he is threatenedin orderto explain the fact
thathe experiences"quasi-fear."However,there
may be no such requirementwhen it comes to
my "pity" for Winnie Verloc, for this response,
like pity in general, need not involve any physiological aspect at all. (Whichis not to say thatit
never does.) This is even clearer in the case of
envy: just as actual envy need not involve any
physiological element, so my "envying"Superman his powers or Sherlock Holmes his analytical skills need not involve any "quasi-envy."
Thus we may not need to understandpeople as
making-believethat Supermanis powerful, or
that Winnie has a miserable time, in order to
explain their responsesto these characters.Furthermore,we should recall here that in orderto
make it make-believedly the case that he is
threatenedby the slime, Charlesmust enter into
a game in which he uses the workas a prop: he
must make-believethat he is threatened.However, we do not haveto do anythingat all to make
it make-believedlythe case that Winnie Verloc
suffered or that Supermanis powerful. These
make-believe truths are generated simply by
what Tolstoy and various writers for Marvel
Comics have written.
I have arguedthatWalton'saccountof what it
is for it to be make-believethatsomeone is afraid
stands in need of modification;and furtherthat
when it is modified in the way that I have suggested it mustbe, the accountno longerprovides
us with a model for understandingcertain other
sorts of affectiveresponseto whatwe know to be
fictional, such as those we may be inclined to
characterizein terms of pity or envy. However,
there is a furtherreason why even the modified
version of Walton'saccount of our affective responses to what we know to be fictional is ultimately unsatisfactory.Forjust as an analysis of
the concept of fear must, if it is to have real
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
53
Neill Fear, Fiction and Make-Believe
explanatoryvalue, allow us to distinguish fear
from other emotions, so an account of what
constitutes make-believedly fearing something
mustallow us to say whatdistinguishesthatstate
from others such as being make-believedlyanxious or angry or upset. I shall arguethatWalton's
accountfails to satisfy this requirement,andthat
it lacks the explanatoryvalue thatwould warrant
its acceptance.
In arguingthat "what makes it make-believe
thatCharlesis afraidratherthanangryor excited
or upset is the fact thathis 'quasi-fear'is caused
by the belief that make-believedlyhe is in danger" (FF,p. 14), WaltonrecognizesthatCharles's
"quasi-fear"by itself is not sufficient to make it
make-believedlythe case that Charles is afraid.
One reasonfor this is thatthe feelings and sensations that are typically associated with fear, and
which constitute"quasi-fear," are not specific to
fear. The same feelings and sensations may be
involved in other emotions, such as anger, or
indeed in pleasurable excitement, anxiety, or
"upset." Realizing this, Waltonmakes it a necessary conditionof it being make-believedlythe
case that Charles is afraidthat his "quasi-fear"
is causedby his belief thatmake-believedlyhe is
threatened.(Or, on the modified version of the
account that I have advocated above, by his
making-believethathe is threatened.)However,
this stipulation,while clearly a step in the right
direction, does not do the job that Walton requires. Make-believe and affective response to
fiction aside, the fact that one experiences the
feelings and sensations of "quasi-fear" as a
result of believing that one is threatenedor in
dangerdoes not entail that one is afraid. Again,
one might equally well be pleasurablyexcited or
angry. Hence the fact that one experiences
"quasi-fear"as a result of believing that it is
make-believethat one is in danger (or makingbelieve thatone is in danger)does not entail that
it is make-believedlythe case that one is afraid.
One might equally well be make-believedly
pleasurablyexcited or angry.
This difficulty in Walton'saccount has also
been noticed by MalcolmBudd, who arguesthat
"thetruthis thatone experiencesfearfor oneself
only if one is distressed or made uneasy by the
belief or the thought that one is in danger."
Hence, Budd argues, Walton'saccount must be
modified as follows: "Toexperience an emotion
make-believedly is to experience the hedonic
tone of the emotion (andperhapsits quasi-form)
as a resultof the realizationthatmake-believedly
a certain state of affairs obtains."'2 However,
this modificationis, as it stands, of little help to
Walton. The idea of the "hedonic tone" of an
emotion is utterly opaque. On the one hand, it
may be cashed out in terms of feelings and
sensations. However, these are what Walton
characterizesas "quasi-fear,"and we have already seen that one cannot give an adequate
account of what makes it make-believe that
someone is afraidsolely in termsof "quasi-fear"
and making-believe(or believing thatit is makebelieve) thatone is threatened.
On the other hand, the notion of "hedonic
tone" might be plausiblycashed out in terms of
desire. A strong case can be made for the view
that fear differs from other states such as pleasurableexcitementand anger in that, unlike the
latter states, it involves a desire to escape or
avoid whateverit is that puts one in danger or
poses a threat to one.'3 In order to satisfy the
requirementthat an account of what it is to
experience fear make-believedlymust allow us
to say what distinguishesthis state from makebelievedlybeing anxious, pleasurablyexcited or
angry, then, Walton'saccountmustbe modified
so as to include a reference to desire. Thus
modified, the accountmight runas follows: It is
make-believedlythe case thatCharlesis afraidif
(i) he experiences "quasi-fear,"and (ii) he desires to escape or avoid the threat involved, as
a result of (iii) his making-believethat he is
threatened.
However, it is far from clear that Walton's
account can be modified in this way. If Charles
lacks any desire to escape or avoid the green
slime, thenon this modifiedversionit will not be
make-believethatCharlesis afraid.And according to Walton, Charles does lack any desire to
escape or avoid the slime; indeed, it is precisely
this fact that leads Waltonto deny that Charles
believes that he is (actually) threatenedor in
danger(FF,p. 7). However,if Charlesdoes have
the relevant desire, then we can plausibly attributeto him at least a "gut-" or "half-belief"
that he is (actually) threatenedor in danger. In
this case, there will be no reason to deny that
Charles is (albeit perhaps irrationally)actually
afraid. The account which suggests that it is
make-believedlythe case that Charles is afraid
will simply be otiose.
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism
54
It will be objected, however,thatI have failed
to consider a furtherpossibility open to Walton.
Might it not be that just as (on my modified
version of the account) Charles makes-believe
that he is threatenedby the slime, so he makesbelieve thathe desires to escape fromor avoid its
clutches? If this suggestion could be developed
convincingly, it would rescue Walton'saccount
from the difficulty that I have described. If
Charlesmerely makes-believethat he desires to
escape from the slime, we cannot attributeto
him any (even "half-"or "gut-")belief thathe is
(actually) threatened.And if the accountcan be
modified so as to includea referenceto Charles's
making-believethat he has the desires characteristicof fear,then it will allow us to distinguish
"make-believe" fear from other mental states
which are to be describedwithinthe scope of the
operator"Itis make-believethat . ..", andso will
have the explanatoryforce that I have arguedit
musthave if it is to be acceptable.
Walton'saccount could be modified so as to
specify thatfor it to be make-believethatCharles
is afraid, it must be the case that he makesbelieve that he desires to escape or avoid whatever it is that make-believedly threatens him.
However,it is not clear the account so modified
will be of much help in describing our affective
responses to what we know to be fictional. The
difficulty is thatjust as we have no evidence to
suggest that Charles actually desires to escape
the clutches of the slime-he does not run from
the cinema, alert the authorities,or anythingof
that sort-we also lack any evidence to suggest
that Charles makes-believe that he desires to
escape from it. The only possible candidatefor
such evidence would be Charles'sreactions to
what he sees on the screen: the facts that he
flinches as the slime oozes towardshim, thathis
breathinggets faster,thathe clutches at the arms
of his seat, and so on. However,these reactions
do not constitute evidence that Charles is making-believe that he wishes to escape the attentions of the slime. 14 A comparisonwith pain and
pain-behavioris useful here. Suppose that Sally
suddenly flinches, winces and clutches at her
stomach. All this counts as good evidence that
she is in pain. It does not, however, count as
evidence that she is pretending, or makingbelieve, that she is in pain. In order for Sally's
flinching and wincing and so on to lend any
support to the hypothesis that she is making-
believe that she is in pain, we need some further
evidence to suggest that her behavior is faked;
evidence that her flinching and wincing are actions ratherthan reactions, that they are done
ratherthan suffered.15 In Charles'scase, however, we have no reason to suppose that his responses are faked, that they are actions rather
thanreactions,doneratherthansuffered.Charles's
responses to what he sees on the screen do not
constitute evidence that he is making-believe
thathe desires to escape from the slime.
CompareCharleswiththe childplaying"monsters" with his father. From the fact that the
child keeps coming back for more, we can infer
thathe does not actually desire to escape. Given
thatwe have this knowledgeabouthim, some of
his behavior-his delighted screamingand running into the next room when the "monster"
lunges at him, for example-may count as evidence thathe is making-believethathe desires to
escape. This child would satisfy the latest of the
modified versions of Walton's account that I
have proposed above: he experiences "quasifear," and makes-believethat he desires to escape, as a resultof his making-believethathe is
threatened.It is importantto notice that in this
case the evidencethatwe havefor supposingthat
the child makes-believethat he wants to escape
is what he does. A spectatorat a horrormovie
may give us similar reason to believe that he is
making-believe that he desires to escape. He
may turn to his neighborwith a delighted grin
and yell "Hereit comes! Let's get out of here!,"
for example. Such a spectatorwould, like the
child playing "monsters," satisfy the latest of
the modified versions of Walton's account of
what constitutesmake-believedlyfearing something. However, such a spectatorwould be far
from typical: Charles, for one, is not so demonstrative.And what we requirehere is a convincing means of describingthe responsesof typical
readers and spectators of fiction. If Walton's
theory-even when modified in the ways that I
have arguedit must be if it is to have any chance
of success-can explain only those readersand
spectatorswhose responsesto fiction are similar
to those of a child playing "monsters,"then it is
of little help to us in dealing with the problem
thatI outlinedat the beginningof this paper.
I suggest that we have no reason to suppose
that Charles does in fact make-believethat he
desires to escape or avoid the slime. This con-
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
55
Neill Fear, Fiction and Make-Believe
clusion is extremely damaging to Walton'stheory. Forif Charlesdoes not make-believethathe
desires to avoid the slime, then there is no more
reason to say that make-believedly Charles is
afraid than there is to describe him as makebelievedly angry with the slime, or makebelievedly anxious about it, and so on. Indeed,
the problemgoes deeperthanthis. Forif we have
no reasonto suppose thatCharlesmakes-believe
that he desires to escape the slime, do we have
any good reason to suppose that he makesbelieve that he is threatenedby it? Again, the
only evidence that we have for supposingthathe
makes-believethat he is threatenedare the facts
thathe experiences"quasi-fear,"thathe clutches
at the arms of his chair, that he utters the odd
involuntaryshriek, and so on. All this is, once
again, a matterof reaction ratherthan action:
these are things that Charles suffers ratherthan
does. And as reactions,these facts aboutCharles
do not requirean explanationin terms of making-believe, any more than they do in terms of
belief proper.For there is a simplerexplanation
available to us: when Charles is in the grip of
"quasi-fear,"he is in something like a state of
shock-a statethatthe directorsof horrormovies
are adept at inducing in us through the use of
cameraangles, editing, music and so on-rather
than in a state of (real or make-believe)fear. He
describes himself as afraidbecause the feelings
and sensations that typically go with being
shocked and startled can (and in his case, as
Walton describes it, do) feel very much like
some of the feelings and sensations characteristic of fear. However, he is mistaken; and
there is nothing more problematic about this
than there is about my mistakenly identifying
what is in fact the feeling of my belt-buckle
pressing into my stomach as the feeling of a
perforatedappendix.
I have arguedthat Walton'saccountof what it
is to experience an emotion "make-believedly"
at least stands in need of modification; and that
ultimatelyhis accountis unsatisfactory.Charles
is neither make-believedlynor actually afraid.
He is, rather,shocked and startledand alarmed
by the movie. However,even if it is grantedthat
Charles'sstate can be adequately described in
terms of shock, we are left with the question of
how we are properly to describe those of our
responses to what we know to be fictional characters that we are pre-reflectively inclined to
describe in terms of emotions other than fear.
Our "pity"for fictionalcharacters,for example,
seems likely to resist adequateredescriptionin
anythinglike such terms. I cannot begin to address this question here. However,I hope that I
have said enough to show that the account of
what it is to experience an emotion makebelievedlythatWaltonhas offeredis not going to
provideus with the answerto it. 16
ALEX
NEILL
Departmentof Philosophy
TrinityUniversity
715 StadiumDrive
San Antonio, TX 78212
1. Kendall Walton, "Fearing Fictions," Journal of Philosophy 75 (1978): 5-27. HenceforthFF
2. The classical statementof this view of emotion is in
Book II of Aristotle's Rhetoric. More recent formulations
include Anthony Kenny's Action, Emotionand Will (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1963), and William Lyons's
Emotion(CambridgeUniversityPress, 1980).
3. See for example Kenny, Action, Emotion and Will,
p. 49; William Charleton,Aesthetics(London:Hutchinson,
1970), p. 97; Gilbert Ryle, The Conceptof Mind (London:
Penguin Books, 1963), p. 103; and Malcolm Budd, Music
and the Emotions (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul,
1985), p. 128. (Most of the importantcontributionsto the
recent debate on this and related issues are listed in the
bibliographyof Bijoy Boruah'sbook Fiction and Emotion
[OxfordUniversityPress, 1988].)
Not all of ouraffectiveresponsesto fiction are throwninto
questionby the cognitive theory of emotion; watchingJaws,
for example, may make us (genuinely and unproblematically) afraidof real sharks.The questionhere is whetherwe
can properlyspeakingbe afraidof the shark,or "shark,"on
the screen. Jerrold Levinson convincingly sketches two
ways in which what he calls "real-life emotions" may be
involved in our emotional responses to fiction in his "The
Place of Real Emotion in Response to Fictions," Journalof
Aestheticsand Art Criticism,48 (1990): 79-80.
4. See for example Flint Schier, "Tragedyand the Community of Sentiment"in Philosophy and Fiction, ed. Peter
Lamarque(Aberdeen University Press, 1983); and Jenefer
Robinson, "Experiencing Art," a paper delivered at the
XIth International Congress in Aesthetics, Nottingham,
1988.
5. For the purposes of this paper, I shall ignore various
other strategies that may be adopted in response to the
problemI have outlined. Forexample, it maybe arguedthat
as the source of the problem lies in the cognitive theory of
emotion, the solution lies in amending or abandoningthat
theory. As far as I know, none of the contributorsto the
contemporarydebate on these issues has adoptedthis strategy, and with good reason: the cognitive theory is highly
plausible. Again, it has been suggested that our emotional
responsesto what we know to be fictionalcan be adequately
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Journalof Aesthetics and Art Criticism
56
redescribedin terms of moods (see Charleton,Aesthetics,
forexample);or in termsof emotions which haveobjects that
we do believe to be actual: Dr Johnson, for example, suggests that "Imitationsproduce pain or pleasure ... because
they bring realitiesto mind." Prefaceto Shakespeare'sPlays
(Scolar Press Facsimile Edition, 1969), p. 39. Versions of
the latter suggestion have also been advanced by Michael
Weston, "How Can We Be Moved By The Fate Of Anna
Karenina?(II)," Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 49
(1975): 81-93; Don Mannison, "On Being Moved By Fiction," Philosophy 60 (1985): 71-87; and Barrie Paskins,
"On Being MovedBy Anna Kareninaand Anna Karenina,"
Philosophy52 (1977): 344-347. While these suggestionsdo
capture important aspects of our emotional responses to
fiction, I suggest, they cannot account for all such responses. Some of what some of us feel for AnnaKarenina(to
stick with the time-honoredexample) is too focussed and
"directed"to be describedas a mood; and we feel it for her,
not for real people who may be more or less like her. (See
also Colin Radford, "How Can We Be Moved By The Fate
Of Anna Karenina?",Proceedings of the AristotelianSociety 49 [1975], p. 75.) The questionis, what is it thatwe feel
for her?
6. Noel Carroll, "The Nature of Horror," Journal of
Aestheticsand Art Criticism46 (1988), p. 56.
7. David Novitz, Knowledge, Fiction and Imagination
(TempleUniversityPress, 1987), p. 241, note 2.
8. Ibid., p. 84.
9. Boruah,Fiction and Emotion,p. 66.
10. Novitz, Knowledge, Fiction and Imagination, p. 85.
11. Tobringthis idea of differing standpointsinto sharper
focus, consider what will happen if Johnny, whose glob of
mud is in fact smallerthananyone else's, announcesthathis
pie is the largest. It is likely that the other children will
protestat this; and it is importantto notice the formthattheir
protestsare likely to take. First, they will show Johnnytheir
globs of mud, pointing out the differences in size between
their "pies" and his. If Johnnyis unimpressedby this demonstration, it will be clear that he has misunderstood(or
perhaps is trying to alter) the rules or principles which
govern the game. And at this point, the response will be
somethingto the effect of "That'snot how the game works!"
At this point, the game has been interrupted;the children
have stopped making-believe. In explaining his mistake to
Johnny, the participantshave changed their standpoint, or
their perspective on the game, from the internal to the
external.
As one of the anonymousreadersof this papersuggested,
this distinction between internal and external standpoints
may illuminate the difference between "being involved"
with a work of art and contemplating it with "aesthetic
distance" or "disinterestedness." Working out just how
would requireanotherpaper; the results, I suspect, would
lend support to Walton's views about the role of makebelieve in our engagementwith worksof art (thoughnot to
the notion of "experiencingemotions make-believedly").
12. Budd, Musicand the Emotions,p. 130.
13. William Lyons, for example, argues that "there is a
conceptual tie-up, though not a logical one, between 'x is
dangerous'and 'a want to avoid or be rid of x', and ... this
tie-up forms partof the very concept of fear." Lyons, Emotion, p. 94.
14. These reactionsmight be thoughtof as "tendencies"
or "inclinations"to avoid or escape the slime; as a sort of
"proto-desire"to escape. If a plausiblecase could be made
to this effect, then it would also support the view that
Charlesis actually, ratherthanmake-believedly,afraidof the
slime.
It might also be argued, in defense of Walton, that these
reactionsmakeit make-believethatCharlesdesires to escape
or avoid the slime. However,this could only be so in virtue
of a furtherrule or principleof the game thathe plays using
the movie as a prop, stating that "when Charles reacts/
behaves in the following sorts of way ... then it is makebelieve that he desires to escape whateverit is that makebelievedlythreatenshim." But as I arguedearlier,thereis no
such rule in operation,and the availabilityof way of describing Charlesthat I advocatebelow suggests that there is no
good reasonto adoptone.
15. See Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigationspara.
580: "An 'innerprocess'standsin need of outwardcriteria."
I wouldaddthatan activeor deliberateinnerprocess, such as
making-believe,standsin need of outwardcriteriaof activity
and deliberation.
16. It is an understatementto say that I am indebtedto
Aaron Ridley, who has borne with me throughendless discussions of Walton'swork on fiction, and who commented
on severalearlier drafts of this paper.I am also grateful to
Kendall Walton, and to two anonymousJAACreaders, for
commentson an earlierdraft.
This content downloaded from 137.49.120.96 on Sun, 18 Oct 2015 21:49:41 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions