They're both real in their respective frameworks — frank

I get the impulse to say this, I do, but I think it's more complicated than that.

You would somehow distinguish between a person who read LOTR as a novel, and someone who thought it was true. What is that distinction and how does it affect the truth-value of statements like "Frodo carried the ring to Mordor"?

Consider this too: even if it is true that Frodo went to Mordor, it is not made true in the same sort of way that "George Washington crossed the Delaware" was, by the person George making such a transit; it became LOTR-true by Tolkien writing words to that effect.

Normally you cannot deduce P from someone's saying that P. You might count it as evidence, but that's it. Here we have an act with illocutionary force: Frodo went to Mordor if and only if Tolkien said he did.

Insofar as there is some framework within which "Frodo went to Mordor" is true, it consists exactly of what Tolkien did or did not say, including things like this very sentence. The 'framework' comes into being along with the statements it makes true.

If asked, whether Pippin accompanied Frodo into Mordor, you might answer, no, Pippin was in Gondor. I contend that we do not mean that as a statement of historical fact, but as elliptical for "Tolkien says he was in Gondor" or "The book says he was in Gondor," something like that. Within context, we understand that, but it means such sentences actually have a different logical form than "Washington crossed the Delaware."

There's a lot more to this. Fiction does not respect the law of bivalence: if the book doesn't mention in what order the members of the fellowship left Elrond's house, then there is no order that truly or falsely describes their group. Fictional worlds are fundamentally incomplete.

You would somehow distinguish between a person who read LOTR as a novel, and someone who thought it was true. What is that distinction and how does it affect the truth-value of statements like "Frodo carried the ring to Mordor"? — Srap Tasmaner

If Bill points to the number "2", written on a dry erase board, and says, "That's a prime number", how do you know he's expressing the proposition that 2 is a prime number?

You have a magic ability to discern what proposition is being expressed in a certain context. Without context, you don't have a proposition. You just have a sentence.

Propositions are the primary truthbearers. Despite all efforts to make sentences do that job, they don't. The problems you're pointing to are the reason we can't use sentences as truthbearers.

No, I'm saying that the form of the proposition expressed by "Frodo went to Mordor" is different from the form of the proposition expressed by "George Washington crossed the Delaware." The semantic value of "George Washington" is a person. If you want to say the semantic value of "Frodo Baggins" is also a person but he happens to be fictional, I'll just say this is not something persons can be. You can only be one of those.

Both "Frodo" and "George" are expressions. They're both real in their respective frameworks, Frodo being a real Hobbit in LOTR, as opposed to a bad dream Gandalf had. — frank

As someone who finds this discussion somewhat lifeless, can you tell me why this matters? What are the practical consequences or implications of 'real' being used in these different ways?

My issue with some of this is we are often not in a position to know what is real about the real. With Washington, for instance, we have that well known 'chopping down of the cherry tree' story, which turns out to be as fictional as Frodo going to Mordor. How far does 'real' get us?

No, I'm saying that the form of the proposition expressed by "Frodo went to Mordor" is different from the form of the proposition expressed by "George Washington crossed the Delaware." — Srap Tasmaner

Suzie is discussing whether Frodo was a character in a dream that Gandalf had. She says,

"No, he was real."

You know from the context that she's talking about the framework of the story. If Suzie lives in an institution and hallucinates frequently, and says to her doctor of Frodo,

"No, he was real."

We have two different propositions being expressed by different utterances of the same sentence. Again, why we can't use sentences as truthbearers.

As someone who finds this discussion somewhat lifeless, can you tell me why this matters? What are the practical consequences or implications of 'real' being used in these different ways? — Tom Storm

Since I tend to peddle propositions at every turn, it's about why we can't do without them.

My issue with some of this is we are often not in a position to know what is real about the real. With Washington, for instance, we have that well known 'chopping down of the cherry tree' story, which turns out to be as fictional as Frodo going to Mordor. How far does 'real' get us? — Tom Storm

"Real" is mostly an honorific according to Chomsky. We're focusing more on stuff in the vicinity of Cartesian doubt. Because we're bored and we're trying to distract ourselves from the brilliant autumn light shining through the golden maple leaves.

"Real" is mostly an honorific according to Chomsky. — frank

Which is curious given his certainty about truth - right and wrong - in geopolitics.

Because we're bored and we're trying to distract ourselves from the brilliant autumn light shining through the golden maple leaves. — frank

I hear you.

Real" is mostly an honorific according to Chomsky.
— frank

Which is curious given his certainty about truth - right and wrong - in geopolitics. — Tom Storm

He doesn't mean that the world isn't real. He just meant that we usually use the word to render a thing special in some way. Like the "real power behind the throne."

I understand that - I know he isn't an idealist or solipsist. But the tentative nature of what he thinks we can demonstrate kind of belies his certainty elsewhere. It's no big deal and I'm being glib.

Again, why we can't use sentences as truthbearers. — frank

And again, I'm not saying they are.

Here's one way "Washington has crossed the Delaware" can depend on context: if the context is the Revolutionary War, "Washington" may be used to refer, by metonymy I guess, not to the person Washington but to the army he commands or some part of it; Washington the person may not have crossed at all. But the logical form changes little: it is true if some concrete persons used to be on one side of the river and are now on the other.

Now consider what makes "Frodo went to Mordor" true, if it is: there is a sentence or sentences in the book written by Tolkien which say or imply that Frodo went to Mordor. Whether those sentences are part of the book determines its truth-value, if it has one, not the sequential locations of any person. Note that we are not concerned with whether what Tolkien said is true, because it isn't, but only with whether he said it.

See the difference?

It is really about what happens in the story whether it is fictitious or not. — Amity

Whether I went to Atlanta is not a matter of whether anyone said it. Whether Pippin went to Mordor is exactly a matter of whether Tolkien said it.

I would say that sentences in fiction communicate truths — Amity

Another kind of truth about reality can be found in the likes of Charles Dickens.
In contrast to a fictional truth, this might be termed a 'genuine' truth. His stories present moral or political truths some readers can relate to. — Amity

Leaving aside generalities like "All happy families are alike," which might be literally true, the truths you get from fiction are not stated. You read a story by Chekhov or Raymond Carver -- if you're a teenager in a crappy English class, you just say wtf? But if you're an adult with some experience, some curiosity about the world, some sensitivity maybe?, you might reflect on the story and on the lives we lead and have something like insight. The truth you find is not stated in what you read.

Imaginary gardens with real toads in them.

What shall we say about that?
— Srap Tasmaner

I bolded your question to which I attempted a response. Still waiting for your reply — Amity

Some of this is just Moore thumbing her nose at the poetry-reading public, oddly, because she was famous for including snippets of newspaper and magazine articles in her poems. She was the oddest of ducks.

Otherwise, I think she's saying something like what I suggested above. It's the spirit in which Seamus Heaney said poetry shows us "a glimpsed alternative," and Geoffrey Hill said a poem must be "a fortress of the imagination." Creative, imaginative thinking ought to be contagious, just as rigorous thought ought to be, as when Wittgenstein said, "I should not wish to have spared anyone the trouble of thinking."

You read a story by Chekhov or Raymond Carver -- if you're a teenager in a crappy English class, you just say wtf? But if you're an adult with some experience, some curiosity about the world, some sensitivity maybe?, you might reflect on the story and on the lives we lead and have something like insight. The truth you find is not stated in what you read. — Srap Tasmaner

Hmm. This is near ageism. It is not so much the quantity of years but the quality of life, thinking and ability to consider own life/reality in relation to others. Storytelling does that from an early age.

I can identify with that teenager in a crappy English class. Why was it such a bad experience?
Subject matter and teacher, perhaps. Not knowing the requirements to pass an English exam.
An inspirational and encouraging teacher saved my day. I am still learning.

Some texts can be considered more revelatory than others, conveying essential or foundational truths.
Think the Bible...it is at least a two-way process of divination. Drawing out thoughts.

Some of this is just Moore thumbing her nose at the poetry-reading public, oddly, because she was famous for including snippets of newspaper and magazine articles in her poems. She was the oddest of ducks. — Srap Tasmaner

I like this poet already! I had a quick look and smile at your use of 'oddest' and 'ducks'.
Could be 'queerest'. What has a poet's sexuality or gender to do with their acceptance? Depends on the culture and time. Realities within realities.

Earlier I noted a quote within the poem:

“literalists of
the imagination” — poets.org, first published 1919

A quick search took me to this:
https://zoboko.com/text/8m5ynl4q/why-poetry/8
It uses MM's poem and 'The Wasteland' to illustrate problems of education; young readers and creators.
The way poetry is taught is so important. Class can kill any seeds of creativity.

***
Taking snippets from other sources.
Intertextuality.
Returning to the Bible. How many pieces of truth have been taken and transplanted into another reality?
I'm reminded of Goethe and Faust's attempt at translating:
'In the Beginning was the Word'. It didn't sit right with him.
It was transformed to: In the beginning, was the act or deed ( as far as memory goes)
More could be said...

***

It's the spirit in which Seamus Heaney said poetry shows us "a glimpsed alternative," and Geoffrey Hill said a poem must be "a fortress of the imagination." Creative, imaginative thinking ought to be contagious, just as rigorous thought ought to be, as when Wittgenstein said, "I should not wish to have spared anyone the trouble of thinking." — Srap Tasmaner

'The truth you find is not stated in what you read'.

I agree with this. Kinda.
The truth Truths are not always directly stated; you have to find or feel the connection and meaning, that is if you want to. Some are happy with the 'finds' pronounced in dogmatic texts; no real thought required.
The puzzling worlds of philosophy and fiction are interrelated as in Goethe...and yes, even in TPF.
Inter-reality. A heady combination :sparkle:

Now consider what makes "Frodo went to Mordor" true, if it is: there is a sentence or sentences in the book written by Tolkien which say or imply that Frodo went to Mordor. Whether those sentences are part of the book determines its truth-value, if it has one, not the sequential locations of any person. — Srap Tasmaner

LOTR is more than sentences. It's a story that's part of the culture. It's an abstract object, like the components of math.

But yes, there's a difference between fictional characters and actual (real) people. Still, to understand what someone means by "real," you have to look at the way they're using the word.

We agree he doesn't exist. But you want to still be able truly to predicate "is a hobbit" of him; I don't. — Srap Tasmaner

This line of conversation came about after you made a claim that implied that logic did not apply to fictional characters. I think it now clear that is mistaken. It's apparent that we do apply standard first order logic to fiction, that we make claims such as "Frodo is a Hobbit" which can be understood as claiming that there is a class of things called hobbits and that there is at least one, named "Frodo", and we expect to be able to make the usual sorts of inferences, such as if Frodo is a hobbit and Frodo walked into Mordor then a hobbit walked into Mordor.

There remain interesting questions as to how fictions might be parsed. Whatever account one might provide must at the very least recognise that we would in the first instance expect first order logic to apply with the context of the fiction, in the way shown above. This does not rule out the potential for folk to intentionally subvert such an expectation, as in Alice in Wonderland. Similarly we would expect logic to apply between the actual world and various fictional worlds, and we might need to make use of free logic or modal logic to do this. The practicality here being that we can choose the degree of sophistication we need in order to accomodate our discussion.

Individuals in possible worlds need not be aware that they are not actual. This is the answer, in outline, to your puzzlement as to why Gandalf did not object to a fictional character carrying the ring into Mordor; Frodo is not fictional for Gandalf. To borrow your language, what I've been trying to get you to see is the bland compatibility of "Frodo is a hobbit" and "Frodo is a fictional character". Being fictional does not rule out having properties, nor being a member of some class.

You've implied that there is something distinctly illogical about fiction, or at the least that its logic is somehow different to commonplace logics. I disagree. I think we can and do apply whatever logic we might see as needed to discussions of fiction. You seem to think that the difference between fiction and reality is to be found in the logic we use for each, and I fundamentally disagree. In outline my argument is that what makes a work a work of fiction is not to be found in the syntax nor the semantics of its content, but in the attitude that we adopt towards it. If pushed I would take on something along the lines offered by Searle in The logical status of fictional discourse. the arguments there show how it is that we can have fiction that talks about things that are not fictive; The Claudius of Robert Graves or the London of Holmes. In brief, that a work is a work of fiction rests in the illocutionary and perlocutionary approaches we take to it and not in the syntax or semantics.

(There's a bit at the end of Searle's paper for , about why it matters, at least to philosophers.)

It's not, as you said to @Amity, that we are doing logic indirectly. Our logic is as applicable to fiction as to nonfiction. The difference is in an overarching pretence, not in some complex "double analysis". And that is what we might say about imaginary gardens with real toads in them.

Nor is the form of "Frodo went to Mordor" different from the form of the proposition expressed by "George Washington crossed the Delaware", as you suggested to @Frank. The logical form of both is much the same - one could not tell that "Frodo went to Mordor" is fiction simply from its grammar. Frank talks of the context, I suggest that he is correct, but add that it is the attitude one takes to the context that makes the difference; the attitude of pretending. This seems to be similar to what has in mind.

What's certainly not the case is that the distinction between fiction and nonfiction is to do with quotation, as seems to think. I refer him to Davidson's landmark dismissal of Quine's account of quotation, with

Quine says that quotation"...has a certain anomalous feature"" — Quotation

(As if the entire text of Lord of the Rings were but one proper name.)

All of this is in the scope of determining what is real, and refuting your claim that there was a sort of absolute use for "real" such that

'real' in this general sense is 'member of a non-empty class'. — Srap Tasmaner

I take it that I have shown this to be problematic.

But my trackpad has given up, and I'll have to cease while it charges.

possible worlds — Banno

I have very strong doubts that stories count as possible worlds.

semantics — Banno

I don't see how to avoid semantic issues: the truth conditions of "Frodo carried the ring to Mordor" look nothing like the truth conditions for "Washington crossed the Delaware." That ought to be obvious.

But the problem with my position is apparently that 'within the story', or from an 'in-world perspective', Frodo going to Mordor has exactly the same sort of truth conditions as Washington crossing the Delaware has (in our world, if that needs to be said). We can carry out such an analysis by pretending that Frodo is a person, Mordor is a place, the one ring is a thing, and so on.

But we are also aware of the book as a textual artifact and must analyze it as such. Whatever happens in the story happens because the author says it did. So one way to frame the issue here is to ask how these two frames of analysis are related. Is one dependent on the other? Are they dependent on each other? Independent of each other?

(Incidentally, I wanted to refresh my memory so I checked the wiki for "willing suspension of disbelief" — it's nearly Coleridge's phrase, as I thought, but he didn't mean what I learned in school. The wiki article is interesting and notes a sort of response from one J. R. R. Tolkien!)

I'm initially inclined to think that the 'in-world' analysis is parasitic on the textual analysis, precisely because whether something counts, within the story, as having happened, depends entirely on whether the storyteller says it did. Arguments about what did or didn't happen in Tolkien's story are settled — or at least, attempted to be settled — by reference to the text. Thus to ask whether Pippin accompanied Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom is elliptical for asking what it says in the book.

But now 'what it says in the book' is going to be from the in-world perspective, so indeed we have to understand the sentences in the story by taking them as pretend. If we could not carry out such an in-world analysis much as we would analyze sentences like "Washington crossed the Delaware," then we could not answer any question of the form, "What does the book say?"

So it appears the two sorts of analysis are interdependent. There is an extensional layer, what the book does or doesn't say; and an intensional layer, what what it says means within the story.

Having at least scratched the surface of the sort of work I imagine is necessary, has it become any clearer whether Frodo is real? If by Frodo we mean a hobbit person, then in-world, of course he is; in our world certainly not. In our world, Frodo is a fictional character, which is a real thing just as stories are a real thing. We seem to need a definition for "fictional character" and the obvious one is that a character is whatever counts as a person within the story, from that in-world perspective. Especially in fantasy literature, this may present some problems, because the characters in the story may not all share a perspective on what is a person, and the storyteller has a perspective on this too, again perhaps shared and perhaps not. Ghost stories are the obvious example.

But in our example it's clear enough that within The Lord of the Rings Frodo is a real person and a hobbit, and so for us he would count as a fictional character.

Can we spell this out as truth conditions for "X is a fictional character"? Can we just say "X is a fictional character if and only if there is a fictional story within which X is considered a person"? What sort of X do imagine filling in here? I mean, there's a temptation just to plug in a name there and call it a day. But it's the semantic value of that name that is exactly our problem.

On the right-hand side, we want to take the in-world perspective, and leverage that to define a term in our world, on the left-hand side. In Middle Earth, we want to say, Frodo is a person; in our world, he's a fictional character. Is this the same 'entity' we're talking about? Has it a dual existence, in one 'world' as one sort of thing and in ours as another? Is this no different from saying that chocolate can exist as something yummy for one person and something repulsive for another?

The pretending that matters here is done in our world, and I think this might provide a start on a solution. I don't think we really want to say that Tolkien pretends — and we pretend with him as readers — Frodo is real and a hobbit. That sounds right, but there is no Frodo for him to pretend is real, as there is real chocolate for one person to like and another dislike. (It's no good to say that Tolkien pretends his fictional character is a real person because (a) there is no such character until he does the pretending, and (b) we were trying to rely on the pretended reality in order to define the character, not the other way around.) Instead, I think we say that Tolkien pretends to be telling a true story — at least in some sense. (We still don't have an account of pretending to hand.) Among other things, Tolkien pretends to be telling a story about Frodo. He isn't actually, because there is no Frodo, but he can tell a story about the Frodo who doesn't exist as if he did. But he's never actually talking about Frodo, only pretending to.

You can tell a story about a real person, and within that story the semantic value of that person's name is the person. You can also pretend to tell a story about a person who doesn't exist, and the name of the person you pretend to be talking about has no semantic value, but you pretend it does. (Deja vu. I think I've written that on this forum before, but I had forgotten until just now.) The important thing is to see that the pretending is precisely that the story is about someone; it's not.

That's still not quite right because I think we need to make an even stronger claim to make sense of this. What is telling a story, telling a story about something that really happened, the sorts of stories we tell all the time? It's a recounting of events you know to have happened.

Fictional storytelling is pretending you're doing that, when you're not, and your audience knows you're not. It's next-door to lying but without the intent to deceive. When you lie, you maintain a pretense that you're telling the truth, but when telling a fictional story that's not it exactly. You pretend to be recounting. In the course of recounting, you pretend to narrate events that happened, as you would real events; you pretend to talk about people and places, as you would talk about people and places when recounting. But you're not doing any of those things, you're pretending to. The pretense sweeps in everything, beginning with the idea that you're in a position to tell the story because you know what happened, when and where and who did it and to whom. You don't. You don't know any of those things, but you pretend you do. (It is not true, for instance, that you're the only person who knows, since you're the storyteller; you don't know things you're making up.) You might even pretend you translated the story you're telling from an old manuscript bound in red leather. But that's not true either.

I think that does still leave 'fictional character' as someone you pretended to be talking about but weren't really — it's just that we want to read that holistically. It's the whole story that carries the pretense of being a recounting of events, not atomistically a matter of an entity in the story not being real. If I thought it would fly, I'd just say that fictional storytelling is pretending to tell a story, that it's a flow of speech meant to sound like a story but isn't really. But I doubt anyone will plump for that.

That's the best I can do tonight. Some of the analysis near the beginning of this post might still be okay, but the whole in-world/our-world analysis might be kind of a blind alley. Worth exploring though, and maybe it's salvageable. But it does seem to me now that the right starting point is where I've ended up: fictional storytelling is parasitic on the sort of true narratives we trade in all the time, and the primary pretense is that it is this sort of speech one is engaged in. (Not for nothing, but early novels overwhelmingly presented themselves as diaries or letters to establish this pretense of being a recounting of actual events, a tradition Tolkien keeps to.)

Exceptional substantive and well-structured responses :up:
The turn to fiction and the questions surrounding it and reality...thought-provoking.
So many fascinating strands to follow...perhaps best explored in another thread.
Thanks to all :sparkle:

There are all kinds of story-tellers. Unfortunately, some in powerful positions adversely affecting our lives with their apparently believable lies.
As @Tom Storm said earlier:

If the real is so elusive, so difficult to establish, then many of us will continue to be seduced by the glib certainties of extremists, carpetbaggers, shills and sophists.

On the right-hand side, we want to take the in-world perspective, and leverage that to define a term in our world, on the left-hand side. In Middle Earth, we want to say, Frodo is a person; in our world, he's a fictional character. Is this the same 'entity' we're talking about? Has it a dual existence, in one 'world' as one sort of thing and in ours as another? Is this no different from saying that chocolate can exist as something yummy for one person and something repulsive for another? — Srap Tasmaner

In thinking this might help, perspective might be the crucial link. “Real” from whose perspective?

Fiction as a genre of story (fantasy, sci-fi, or any other) will intend to successfully present fictional realities, wherein fictional sentient beings are real to themselves and to those other fictional sentient beings with which they interact (as will be their activities and behaviors). We understand that these sentient beings are real from their own perspective, as is the world they communally inhabit - but that all these are fictional from our own perspective, in which we presumably know in advance that these are characters which pertain to fictional realities as presented by real sentient beings.

This play on perspective can then make use of fictions within fictions, such as can be found in “The Neverending Story”. Here, the fictional character who is real from his own perspective immerses himself in a story that is fictional from his own perspective. Complex as this sounds, it is readily understood by the readership of the book at large – which has no problem in empathizing with the fictional character who, in the reality that is real relative to his fictional being, reads what is to him a fictional story.

I in part say this with the understanding that in our modern lexicon “real” and “actual” are taken to be synonyms.

I also say this as one who maintains that our individual first-person point of view is the central reality, or actuality, from which all other realities, or actualities, become discerned by us. Very much including that reality which we take to be equally applicable to all other sentient beings whose first person point of view is as real, actual, as is our own. The latter then being what we term and conceptualize as non-qualified reality proper.

I have very strong doubts that stories count as possible worlds. — Srap Tasmaner

What I've suggested is that the modal logic might provide a way of answering the specific issues you raised, such as why Gandalf allowed a fictional character to perform such a vital task. And we've agreed, as reiterates, that it is somehow a question of perspective. Modal logic is just way of making such discussions very explicit. I have not suggested that fictional worlds are just possible worlds.

I don't see how to avoid semantic issues — Srap Tasmaner

Nor I. It's just that while semantics nor syntax are clearly necessary, they are not sufficient to account for what we do with fiction. Historical fiction presents a case in point, as I indicated earlier. Claudius was emperor, but did not leave us an autobiography. The syntax and semantics here are clear, but do not explain why Grave's books are fiction and not history. And this carries back to my original point of disagreement, that logic by itself (whether classes are empty or not) is insufficient to explain the distinction between fiction and nonfiction, and hence the distinction between real and... whatever. The pretending is about Claudius. I don't agree with your saying otherwise.

There are some interesting lines we could take from Tree and Leaf, which I haven't read since early adulthood, but which was somewhat influential at the time. The heart of Tolkien's writing is that, as he writes in the preface to Rings, the tale grows in the telling. The tree has many branches, so we might wonder if there were Istari in the second age; Tolkien says no, but Amazon apparently says yes. Different branches? Does Tolkien have precedence? To say so seems to go against the tale growing in the telling. All this by way of showing that authorship does not perhaps quite grant the authority you claim. Isn't there stuff in more recent post modern writings about the text becoming free of the author on publication? The authority of author's meaning isn't what it was.

Anyway, we are beginning I think to talk across rather than to each other, and I'd like to draw the conversation back to reality, so to speak. I think this conversation shows that the suggestion that what is real and what isn't might be decided by logic, by set theory or predication, is incomplete, that rather there is a need for something to do with what one is doing to be explicated. So I'll return to my original contention, that

What is real and what isn't is decided in each case by contrast; there is no single criteria. — Banno

and that hence one best explicates talk of what is real by making clear what isn't real, and vice versa. Would you care to comment on this, in the light of our further conversation?

Nice to have a chat here with some depth. Thanks.

There are some interesting lines we could take from Tree and Leaf, which I haven't read since early adulthood, but which was somewhat influential at the time. The heart of Tolkien's writing is that, as he writes in the preface to Rings, the tale grows in the telling. The tree has many branches, so we might wonder if there were Istari in the second age; Tolkien says no, but Amazon apparently says yes. Different branches? Does Tolkien have precedence? To say so seems to go against the tale growing in the telling. All this by way of showing that authorship does not perhaps quite grant the authority you claim. Isn't there stuff in more recent post modern writings about the text becoming free of the author on publication? The authority of author's meaning isn't what it was. — Banno

Fascinating to consider and I wonder (again) if this deserving exploration of fiction and meaning might best be served up in a separate thread. [*]
Perhaps it's already been done and not considered of philosophical value or interest. However, as things stand, the subject is lost as a piggyback, parasitical to the OP .

***

The philosophical study of fiction:

[...] The concept of fiction gives rise to a number of intriguing and complex philosophical issues, and the philosophy of fiction has now become an acknowledged part of mainstream philosophy, with a history that goes back at least to the early debates about the role of poets and dramatists found in the works of Aristotle and Plato. The issues in question broadly relate to fiction as a mode of representation—a way of describing individuals and events—that is strikingly different from representation concerned with truth, the latter long a dominant theme in philosophy. Not only is faithfulness to truth in the ordinary sense not a requirement in fiction; fiction may even depart from truth in the things it talks about, which typically include nonexistent individuals and even members of nonexistent kinds (Holmes and hobbits, for example)—see the entry on fictional entities.

[...]

The problem of saying how fiction differs from non-fiction is just one of the hard problems faced by the philosophical study of fiction. Another problem is that of specifying the sense in which a fictional sentence can be true despite misdescribing how matters stand in the world. (A sentence like “Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective”, for example, is not true if it is construed as a claim about brilliant detectives our world has known, but counts as true if it is stated as an answer to a quiz question “Who was Sherlock Holmes?” By contrast, “Sherlock Holmes was a plodding policeman” would count as false in this context.) But in what sense can the sentence be true, given that the world does not contain any such person as Sherlock Holmes? One promising thought is that when we hear the sentence as genuinely true we regard it as elliptical for something like “In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective”. On this suggestion it is the truth of the latter prefixed sentence that provides the sense in which “Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective” counts as true. But even if this is right, what still needs explaining is what it is for such a prefixed sentence to be true. What makes “In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective” true (but not “In the Holmes stories, Sherlock Holmes was a plodding policeman”), when there never was such a person as Sherlock Holmes? In addition to the problem of how to understand the notion of truth in a work of fiction, there is also a deep puzzle about the way we respond emotionally to such truths. When we engage with fiction, we often do so at a highly specific emotional level—we may not only be enthralled by elements of the plot but also affected by what befalls particular characters. Thus, we may find ourselves feeling pity for Anna Karenina as we near the end of Tolstoy’s novel because we are aware of Anna’s suffering. But the claim that we pity Anna Karenina is deeply puzzling: we know there is no Anna Karenina, and that it is only true in Tolstoy’s novel that Anna Karenina is suffering, so how can there be genuine pity for Anna? This is the so-called paradox of fiction, one of a batch of puzzles that have been raised in the philosophy of fiction about our engagement with works of fiction. These are by no means the only philosophical questions thrown up by fiction. In fact, the paradox of fiction immediately suggests others... — Fiction - Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (SEP) -

https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/fiction/

[*]
I understand the difficulties of starting a new thread - and I don't know if it would even be worthwhile.
A cold start can lose the impetus, the enthusiasm.
I wish there was a better way to follow the different strands. Dry philosophical theory means more, to me, when sauced up flavoured by TPF participants - as has been done here.
Thanks again.

A phenomenological take on reality: it's a product of limitations, or resistance to potential. Think about what reality would become for you if you won the Powerball jackpot. Or if you were homeless with nothing.

Reality includes what you think of as possible.

But Banno is, so far as I observe, confusing the referent of "Frodo" in the real sense with the referent of "Frodo" in the Ryle sense. — bongo fury

What's certainly not the case is that the distinction between fiction and nonfiction is to do with quotation, as ↪bongo fury seems to think. — Banno

I wasn't claiming to explain fiction according to some theory of quotation. I was alleging that your reasoning about fiction and nonfiction is spoilt by your not bothering to distinguish use and mention, nor to follow the usual guidance of quote marks for that purpose.

I suspect that in this case you failed to see I was using quote marks to clarify reference to -F-r-o-d-o- tokens, and then to talk about the supposed referent of such tokens. Not caring for the niceties of use and mention, you might well have taken my -"-F-r-o-d-o-"- tokens to refer to one or more -"-F-r-o-d-o-"- tokens, and then supposed that I was talking about the referent of these: i.e. -F-r-o-d-o- tokens. Had that been an appropriate reading, I would indeed have been talking about the mechanics of quotation. But I was using quotation, to attempt clarity (god help me). Not mentioning it.

I refer him to Davidson's landmark dismissal of Quine's account of quotation, with
Quine says that quotation"...has a certain anomalous feature""
— Quotation — Banno

This supports the foregoing diagnosis. You seem to hope that Davidson achieved or intended a landmark dismissal of all pedantry concerning use and mention. To say nothing of distributing quote marks in pairs.

It was an interesting paper, even though off-topic here, as explained above. But I don't see how his own proposed treatment of

Quine says that quotation "...has a certain anomalous feature"

reveals it as anything more problematic than an indirect quotation containing a direct one.

(As if the entire text of Lord of the Rings were but one proper name.) — Banno

See above.

I was alleging that your reasoning about fiction and nonfiction is spoilt by your not bothering to distinguish use and mention, nor follow the usual guidance of quote marks for that purpose. — bongo fury

How?

Set your criticism out.

Set your criticism out. — Banno

I did.

I suspect that in this case you failed to see I was using quote marks to clarify reference to -F-r-o-d-o- tokens, and then to talk about the supposed referent of such tokens. Not caring for the niceties of use and mention, you might well have taken my -"-F-r-o-d-o-"- tokens to refer to one or more -"-F-r-o-d-o-"- tokens, and then supposed that I was talking about the referent of these: i.e. -F-r-o-d-o- tokens. Had that been an appropriate reading, I would indeed have been talking about the mechanics of quotation. But I was using quotation, to attempt clarity (god help me). Not mentioning it. — bongo fury

I always do.

https://thephilosophyforum.com/search?Search=Banno+use+mention&expand=yes&child=&forums=&or=Relevance&discenc=&mem=&tag=&pg=1&date=All&Checkboxes%5B%5D=titles&Checkboxes%5B%5D=WithReplies&or=Relevance&user=bongo+fury&disc=&Checkboxes%5B%5D=child

Ok.

"Real" is nothing more than an evaluation term we humans use to identify which existential claims are in agreement with objectively verified facts. When people try to reject objective facts verified inour environment by pointing to facts observed in smaller scales of our world they are just ignoring the Emergent characteristics of systems in nature.