Why Do We Care about Literary Characters?

by Blakey Vermeule

Blakey Vermeule wonders how readers become involved in the lives of fictional characters, people they know do not exist. Vermeule examines the ways in which readers’ experiences of literature are affected by the emotional attachments they form to fictional characters and how those experiences then influence their social relationships in real life. She focuses on a range of topics, from intimate articulations of sexual desire, gender identity, ambition, and rivalry to larger issues brought on by rapid historical and economic change. Vermeule discusses the phenomenon of emotional attachment to literary characters primarily in terms of 18th-century British fiction but also considers the postmodern work of Thomas Mann, J. M. Coetzee, Ian McEwan, and Chinua Achebe. From the perspective of cognitive science, Vermeule finds that caring about literary characters is not all that different from caring about other people, especially strangers. The tools used by literary authors to sharpen and focus reader interest tap into evolved neural mechanisms that trigger a caring response. This book contributes to the emerging field of evolutionary literary criticism. Vermeule draws upon recent research in cognitive science to understand the mental processes underlying human social interactions without sacrificing solid literary criticism. People interested in literary theory, in cognitive analyses of the arts, and in Darwinian approaches to human culture will find much to ponder in Why Do We Care about Literary Characters?

Genres: Academic, Nonfiction

296 pages, Hardcover

First published December 1, 2009

Reviews

[Erica · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish I liked this book. It seems like I should, but I think I've outgrown it. Vermeule does not offer any new readings. She puts a lot of cognitive and psychology-derived experimental studies next to (pretty typical) readings of the 18c novel and the 20th century novel. I don't have a problem with cognitive approaches, but this is not offering anything new or even really making a cohesive argument about why we care for literary character. It's a bunch of interesting observations, which are more interesting and useful if you haven't yet read all the texts that Vermeule cites.

I would have given this three stars if it weren't for the very poor editing. Vermeule misspells Ian McEwan's name ("McEwen") for an entire chapter. She then talks about Wharton's Bertha "Dorchester." I teach that novel--there's no Bertha Dorchester, but there is a Bertha Dorset. Who let this pass?!

[D P · Rating 5 out of 5]

faces gazing at faces, free indirect discourse, eye-centered frames, machiavellianism, questions of evil, mind blindness—extremely thought-provoking and exciting read, especially for someone who is more on the quixotic end of the spectrum and hence lacks much social intelligence—makes me want to whip out a pen and write fiction

[one of the şûrefa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Keşke bu kitabı sevseydim. Sevmeliymişim gibi duruyor. Fakat Vermeule yeni okumalar sunmuyor. Çok sayıda bilişsel ve psikoloji türevi deneysel çalışmayı, 18. yüzyıl romanı ve 20. yüzyıl romanının (oldukça tipik) okumalarının yanına koyuyor. Bilişsel yaklaşımlarla ilgili bir sorunum yok ama bu yeni bir şey değil veya edebi karakterlere neden önem verdiğimize dair tutarlı bir argüman önermiyor.

[Ted Smiles · Rating 2 out of 5]

The name "Why Do We Care about Literary Characters" implies a very clear scope that is not delivered on - rather, I think the author is instead addressing the question, "What Makes Literary Characters Memorable?" or "Why do we Read Fiction?" My negative review is primarily attributed to thwarted expectations - I thought this text would answer the question on the cover much like I would expect a book titled, "What are the Best BBQ Recipes?" to move past the preparation of a good mesquite sauce & an explanation of how we've evolved to enjoy sweet/salty tastes.

My tangent about scope is pretty clear - so what am I complaining about specifically? The author asserts that our brains are wired to focus on social information due to human evolution and explains that our interest in literary characters feeds on that innate desire. While this is both thought provoking & filled with citations warranting further reading, it takes about 10 seconds to start finding exceptions to this rule. Reader attachment to characters, a vital storytelling concept, is hardly addressed (if at all). There are many instances of folks growing romantic attachment for characters in stories (see: any online fandom). If I'm understanding correctly, the author's stance on why folks want to write nsfw content about Sonic the Hedgehog is because... *checks notes* "[he] has -or claim[s] to have - greater insight into things people care about: virtue and vice, crime, the tracks of disease, money, cheating, hypocrisy," which our brains will translate to our own increased odds of social success if we follow along with his story.

Okay.

All in all, this book isn't without positives. As stated earlier, it does answer questions that the reader may have. Had the title been less specific, I think my critique would have been neutral (or I would have decided it wasn't quite what I was looking for). The author is clearly very well read given their profession, and the evolutionary psychology studies that are referenced seem much more grounded than a lot of the nonsense that gets media attention. Finally, I'd like to point out that someone is always going to take offence whenever stories are referenced to explain concepts in fiction: if it's part of literary canon, it's too old & only shows the white male perspective; if from recent tv/movies, they're ignoring perfectly good fiction in favor of low-brow content; if it's modern literature, it's probably either YA fiction or too obscure for a general audience. It really depends on the author's intended audience, which I am guessing is exclusively English literature professors.

[Mattia Ravasi · Rating 3 out of 5]

An overview of the most important approaches to cogntive literary criticism that works well as an introduction to the field - although not quite as well as Zunshine's Why We Read Fiction, which this book also parallels a bit too much - but is not especially scientific and sometimes feel a tad bit too unfocused or repetitive.
The author also has a fastidious bias against pop and genre fiction that weakens her research rather than strengthening it; she uses Michael Cunningham as the living proof that writers are not famous nowadays (?); and she believes Coetzee is the best and most insightful writer living today. Like, Blakey, no?