Let's put it into words.

We read them to our kids and we take them to our own bed. With our permission, we let them enter our minds, allowing them to take us by the hand and narrate us into a parallel reality. To me, there’s nothing more intimate than picturing a person reading propped up by pillows, oblivious to their surroundings because they’ve entered another world. That person is open to be caught off guard, to be surprised, to be shocked or sad or outraged or inspired. That brave person has said yes when asked if she wants to be carried off for a while.

Examining the trade

What is it about stories? Why do we surrender to someone else’s voice, assume someone else’s perspective, care about someone else’s challenges?

Books or words on screen aren’t anything at all before those words are read by a person. Stories only carry power because we allow them to touch us and in order to earn that privilege, they have to offer us something in return. I’ve spent decades being a voracious reader and I’ve come up with several reasons why stories hold such a special place in my inner life. The order of importance can be rearranged depending on the story, but generally I find these to be true.

The gift of pleasure

Stories bring us pleasure. This isn’t always apparent. When reading books such as Man’s Search for Meaning (Viktor Frankl) or Room (Emma Donoghue), I often felt disgust at the human capacity to behave like monsters towards their fellow humans. I also felt fear: if this could happen once, it could happen again, and next time it could be or my children. Disgust and fear certainly aren’t pleasant emotions, yet I allowed the book to take me there, because I expected more. Putting these stories away, the dominant feeling I took away from them weren’t exasperation or apathy. It was awe. I marvelled at the human ability to endure the most trying and horrendous of circumstances and come out – still a human – on the other side. I felt a huge admiration for human beings who, even when realising they would likely die in the horror trenches of a concentration camp, still took care of their fellow humans and left an imprint of love behind. By writing those actions down and turning them into stories, those of us who trail behind such giants can see in black and white: there’s something greater at work here, something greater than one person’s life.

…and another kind of pleasure

Stories give us the joy of reading. Writing is a craft, and like all crafts it can be polished, improved, expanded, and perfected. Whether you’re a black smith or a word smith, you spend countless unpaid hours learning and bettering your skills. Reading a skilled writer like Margaret Atwood or Virginia Woolf is joyful. How can a sentence last half a page and not lose the reader half-way? How can you say so much about one person and still leave the reader imagining more? Skillful writing challenges the reader; demands concentration and focus, but the story and the writing in itself is more than enough payback.

Making sense of chaos

Stories help us make sense of the world. Whether it’s folklore, saga, bedtime story, a feature or a piece of fiction, a story has a beginning and an end. In order to be meaningful, the bit in the middle needs to present challenges or obstacles that the person has overcome in order to evolve. In that, it’s similar to our lives. Because it’s difficult to observe one’s own life and draw out the wisdom or lessons present in real time, stories offer us the opportunity to do this as more of an objective bystander. While reading, there’s time to reflect. Also, observing someone else at work is easier than taking a step back and observing yourself. Life can certainly be chaotic and confusing. Loss, sorrow, grief, disbelief come at us during the most trying of circumstances. It can be hard to see the forest for the trees, so taking a step back can help.

A better voice

Stories silence our own inner voices. According to Eckhart Tolle (A New Earth), this is one of the major steps towards quelling the ego. For a while, we listen to another voice and if that voice is better than our own, we can try to incorporate aspects of it into our own inner voice. Though it may not become absolutely silent, it can be altered, and it can help us become more optimistic, hopeful, kind and attentive. And if stories have the power to do that, perhaps they can do anything.