I was reintroduced to the contrasts between the words ‘Verity’ and ‘Verisimilitude’ during a recent writing workshop. Where verity is a true principle or belief—the truth, verisimilitude is defined as the appearance of being real or true.
In writing, I aim for a kernel of veracity surrounded by a thick coating of verisimilitude. Stories don’t need to be truthful, but they do need to be believable, or believable enough that the reader will suspend their disbelief for the duration.
So, is there a need for verity in fiction?
It could be argued that historical fiction and hard science fiction require a degree of verity. After all, history is known, and science is factual.
But are they?
What’s known about history, is what’s reported. So, the truth of history is focussed in the hands of those who recorded it, and those who interpret it. We’ve all heard the well-known phrase “history belongs to the victors” so, how much do we trust those victors to accurately report all aspects of an historical event?
This brings us to another V-word, ‘Veracity’, or the quality or state of being truthful or accurate.
As a scientist, I understand that the truth changes over time. We adjust our accepted ‘truth’ as we learn more from the scientific process of research. I also know that how data are treated and interpreted can be influenced by our own perspectives. That’s why it’s important in that research is verifiable and repeatable so that others can verify the veracity of the researchers. This is achieved by testing the same hypotheses using the same methodologies or questioning those hypotheses and methodologies through vigorous debate (NB Reckons are not research, and doing a quick search of the internet is NOT fucking science!).
I’ve just read an interesting article by zooarchaeologist, Emily Lena Jones, in which she states that, “What we think we know about Neanderthals is always changing.” What she’s saying is that as we make more discoveries, we adjust our world view and the truth changes.
In fiction, writers will sometimes use an unreliable narrator, to deliberately mislead and confuse the reader. I would argue that, to some extent, all narrators are unreliable. A couple of months ago, someone told me that something was ‘true’ because she remembered it happening. Maybe she was right and did remember it correctly but, it wasn’t the same truth as mine.
Not only can our perspective on a single event be very different but, we can hold false memories.
For example, I have ‘memories’ of running across a lawn, over a road, through some sand dunes and disappearing into the distance along an empty surf beach. Those memories come with no sensations or feelings, and they play in my mind like a black and white movie seen from afar. That’s because, I was a toddler, and I don’t remember what happened at all. I’ve just been told the story so many times, that I’ve internalised it as a memory. Is it a true story? I have no idea—but it’s my truth.
My conclusion is that verity is a slippery and changeable beast and as a writer all I can aim for in my stories is verisimilitude. So, while today’s ‘truth’ is that it would take a spaceship about 600,000 years to travel the 31 light years to the planet Gliese 357 d, in my current project the trip will be MUCH faster, and you’ll believe it because I’ll make it appear possible. And, would I lie to you?
In writing, I aim for a kernel of veracity surrounded by a thick coating of verisimilitude. Stories don’t need to be truthful, but they do need to be believable, or believable enough that the reader will suspend their disbelief for the duration.
So, is there a need for verity in fiction?
It could be argued that historical fiction and hard science fiction require a degree of verity. After all, history is known, and science is factual.
But are they?
What’s known about history, is what’s reported. So, the truth of history is focussed in the hands of those who recorded it, and those who interpret it. We’ve all heard the well-known phrase “history belongs to the victors” so, how much do we trust those victors to accurately report all aspects of an historical event?
This brings us to another V-word, ‘Veracity’, or the quality or state of being truthful or accurate.
As a scientist, I understand that the truth changes over time. We adjust our accepted ‘truth’ as we learn more from the scientific process of research. I also know that how data are treated and interpreted can be influenced by our own perspectives. That’s why it’s important in that research is verifiable and repeatable so that others can verify the veracity of the researchers. This is achieved by testing the same hypotheses using the same methodologies or questioning those hypotheses and methodologies through vigorous debate (NB Reckons are not research, and doing a quick search of the internet is NOT fucking science!).
I’ve just read an interesting article by zooarchaeologist, Emily Lena Jones, in which she states that, “What we think we know about Neanderthals is always changing.” What she’s saying is that as we make more discoveries, we adjust our world view and the truth changes.
In fiction, writers will sometimes use an unreliable narrator, to deliberately mislead and confuse the reader. I would argue that, to some extent, all narrators are unreliable. A couple of months ago, someone told me that something was ‘true’ because she remembered it happening. Maybe she was right and did remember it correctly but, it wasn’t the same truth as mine.
Not only can our perspective on a single event be very different but, we can hold false memories.
For example, I have ‘memories’ of running across a lawn, over a road, through some sand dunes and disappearing into the distance along an empty surf beach. Those memories come with no sensations or feelings, and they play in my mind like a black and white movie seen from afar. That’s because, I was a toddler, and I don’t remember what happened at all. I’ve just been told the story so many times, that I’ve internalised it as a memory. Is it a true story? I have no idea—but it’s my truth.
My conclusion is that verity is a slippery and changeable beast and as a writer all I can aim for in my stories is verisimilitude. So, while today’s ‘truth’ is that it would take a spaceship about 600,000 years to travel the 31 light years to the planet Gliese 357 d, in my current project the trip will be MUCH faster, and you’ll believe it because I’ll make it appear possible. And, would I lie to you?
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