One of the more theoretical questions that this novel has posed is What is the real relationship between characters and their authors? Naive readers of any fiction will assume characters to be complete constructs of an author’s psyche, unless they are explicitly grounded in reality–for example, the characters Rita, Saturn (Salvador) and even lovesick Napoleon. However, People of Paper makes the relationship between the “fictional” characters and the author’s life explicit and transparent. For example, Federico de la Fe’s wife, Merced, seems to mirror Salvador’s estranged lover, Liz. After learning about Liz, it is impossible for us to ignore the parallels that Salvador creates when he “invents” Merced’s character. Applying this broadly, we can conclude that no fictional characters are drawn straight out of thin air. Even creatures of fantasy–Albus Dumbledore, for example, or Bilbo Baggins–must be rooted in someone or something that their creator/author once knew and felt passionate about. That which we call “fiction” is never really false, just fragmented rearrangements and re-dressings of everything around us.
This discussion is further complicated by Plascencia’s extended metaphor of war between novelists and their characters. Throughout the novel, Plascencia replicates an ongoing battle that his characters are waging against him. At first I thought that this was a symbol for writer’s block–writers often struggle with characters who they are unable to develop, who seem to refuse to cooperate with their ideas for the story. Instead of blaming himself for constructing such disagreeable characters, Plascencia reverses the roles of writing and attempts to convey a passive author and active characters.
However, we have to question whether Plascencia’s portrayal is accurate, or even at all possible. One question I’ve been struggling with as I read People of Paper is the potential for autonomous characters. Sure, Plascencia has created a world where they exist. But is this world itself a fictional construct? For example, can characters in a novel actually wage a war against their creator, or are the EMF and the people of El Monte only doing so because Plascencia himself has allowed them to, given them permission to, and decided it was important for them to do so? I have trouble imagining a book where the characters have any true agency or control over their fates. Is it even possible for characters to think independent thoughts? Isn’t everything a character says actually thought by the author, constructed by the author, and included in the text because the author chose to write it down? While I grapple with these questions, I think they are precisely the questions Plascencia is asking of his readers to confront. If the answer is that characters don’t ever have agency–what does this tell us about their authors? I think Plascencia’s world of independent characters poses these important questions that are critical to our discussion of post-print fiction, I think it is ultimately an optical illusion.
I will say now that I still have 50 pages of reading left to do, which I can’t attend to until Wednesday. Maybe some of my questions will be answered in these last few pages, or my classmates can provide their own answers for me!