I must admit that I do not understand fiction. My mind meets with some sort of transparent obstacle when confronted with a fictional account.

I mean that either fiction somehow reflects and bounces off reality as we understand it in our day-to-day, communal lives, or it is ‘total fiction’, which I truly cannot understand.

Total fiction is, as best I can tell, something built exclusively on the dimensions of ‘language possibility’. It exists because someone has chosen to opt for a play of words rather than affecting the world with relatable correlation. It leads nowhere but to itself and references nothing other than its word game-play.

Examples of this are Ulysses, and Alice in Wonderland, or Dali's paintings. Something quite different to what Magritte's work or what The Great Gastby awakens in me. There are many others of course.

By the way, I don't consider Crime and Punishment or The Old Man and the Sea works of fiction. Having trouble with categories I gather!!

Not that ‘total fiction’ does not contribute to art and the imagination. I just don't understand it, nor think anyone else does by the way!

I realise I remain stubbornly attached to ‘reality’ and look for fiction that streches it while not purpusefully losing its grip on it.

Not keen on art for art's sake I guess.