lucidfox

There is a children’s book well-known in the former Soviet Union, called Neznaika. The titular character, whose name can be translated as “know-nothing”, is basically a “lovable ditz” type, and in the beginning of the book, he tries his amateur hand at various creative activities—painting, poetry, music—all with abysmal results, before going on an Adventure™.

There is, however, some insight, such as his supposedly “bad” poetry being arguably better than the cringeworthy odes of the resident professional poet who tried to teach him, and him claiming that the others “haven’t grown up enough to appreciate his music”. Some critics might see social commentary here, but that way darkness lies. I wanted to draw attention to a different peculiar point.

Neznaika comes up with verses describing his friends doing nonsensical activities, such as jumping over a sheep or swallowing a cold iron. When they demand he stops “making up lies” about them, he says, “Why should I make up truth? The truth doesn’t need making up—it’s there already.”

The analogy with speculative fiction is left as an exercise to the reader.