The Credibility of Bread and Cheese

I read an article in the New Yorker today about cooking, food, and recipes that sometimes, somehow, find their way into the folds of fiction. And it made me think of the following.

I like the taste of bread with cheese, which you might say is a rather natural inclination: the two are seemingly made for one another. But I’ll tell you the truth: when I was young, I was in love with a series of books about an intrepid girl who traipsed around Europe solving mysteries. Upon preparation for her daring pursuits of secretive sleuthing, she always packed bread and cheese. I thought to myself, bread and cheese sounds like it might be delightful. And so it was that Mandi, my beloved protagonist, prompted me to marry the two. I discovered I felt just as my esteemed heroine did about the unassuming snack: the pair is quite worth adding to the list of things to remember packing before whisking away on a journey of invariably curious adventure.

Furthermore, I discovered my author knew quite well, at least some small element about the truth of food. For me, the joyous discovery of bread and cheese was significant because from it I began to see the world of writing in a whole new light. Fiction suddenly took on a beautifully new air of relevance because surprisingly, my author became strikingly credible.

And thus begins the intersection of fiction and reality.

Ineffably, this supposed “story” broke down the boundary between what was real and what was not. Though bread and cheese seems an irreverent example in light of the weighty topic of fiction as truth, it stands to symbolize the ability that story, authors, and protagonists have to mobilize the reader.

Ah, the common misconception: fiction is not true. How untrue.

In erudite fashion, discreetly concealed between plot, character, setting, and the like—these scrupulous black jots on blank pages—are constructed worlds within which the creators ruminate on much more than tempting edibles. Writers aim to enact thought, philosophy, politics, theory, even social commentary into their worlds, thereby tracking and perhaps progressing the shape of humanity’s consciousness. Fiction is representative. It is metaphor and analogy. And by that definition, it can explore the depths of deeper truths more than any “non-fiction” will ever have the privileged capacity to do.