How We Lie to Ourselves and Make it Pretty

Today, something’s on my mind: the destructive power of narrative and stories.

TV shows, podcasts and books — more so TVs than the other mediums, funnily enough — do so love to talk about the importance and power of narrative. I remember episodes of Doctor Who and Supernatural that touched on this theme, and more recently, Game of Thrones used narrative and “having the best story” as an excuse to make a particular character rise to the throne of Westeros. (It’s also worth mentioning that, in the same finale, talking about “the power of stories” is used to get a character out of execution.)

In the context of storytellers talking about the importance of stories — myself included — there’s always something self-congratulatory and auto-fellating that bothers me about it, even when it’s handled elegantly or beautifully. There’s no getting around the fact that such situations represent creators literally telling their audience how important both their creations and the creators are. It reminds me of the tricks of confidence artists, bringing their mark or dupe into the confiding folds of conspiracy — although admittedly, a modest amount of money and an investment of time are probably less ruinous than most con-men’s schemes.

A hidden punch

As well, I can’t help thinking about all the times when narratives can also be used to mislead, deceive, or even just present a perspective that’s most flattering. Because there’s a slightly glorified place for…