The Litmus Test

I read a lot of mysteries. I love Rex Stout and the Nero Wolfe – Archie Goodwin combination of brains and wit are remarkable. Clive Cussler writes intriguing fiction that demands that one is logically following the plot. [The last two books I read were Stout and Cussler.]

In fact, every book I read has the premise that it must be consistent. I read many books. Sixteen so far this month. Admittedly, I listened to one and read the other fifteen. My total is 61 so far this year.

I have come to expect at least a vague sense of consistency in stories. Now the conundrum.

Many people tell stories that are completely inconsistent. What do I do when I am listening to or reading from a story told by someone who is either pontificating or entertaining or worse yet – sharing – and the story line is simply ludicrous? Do I ask if the person has their “facts” right? Do I nod sagely and pretend that I see no glaring inconsistencies? Do I ask if they are trying to make me look like an idiot in the hearing? Do I graciously ignore it?

She did it again yesterday. I have seen glaring inconsistencies in her “stories” for years now. I tried a couple times to ask for clarification and it didn’t go well. I have learned to read what she writes with a grain of salt because the story as told cannot be believed, unless one suspends all cause/effect situations that seem to hold for the rest of the planet.

So I sit and watch people respond to the punch line and bite my tongue – actually stay my fingers. I want to ask the questions begged by the list of “facts” as given and ask how in the world the “punch line” could have followed from that set of circumstances. But I have learned that I am considered to be “too logical” or not very “feeling” when I ask for some sense of the possible when reading her stories.

I have yet to figure out my role in the world. Do I blow the whistle on the stupid people? Do I take it upon myself to show the glaring impossibilities in other people’s stories? Do I just treat it as poorly written fiction rather than a “true life” story? Do I keep quiet rather than rock the boat? Does it do any good to rock the boat for people who can write that type of “true tale” without blushing?

My solution has been to cringe when I see the original and then shake my head in disbelief when others respond to the lunacy without critique. But it irritates me. Not so much that she seems to have a “misty” recollection that defies any logical progression of what might be by now distorted facts, but that people respond to her stories as if they absolutely must be true. How can people not notice the glaring idiocy? Or are they just being kind?