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Long ago, a poor man burdened with many children despaired over how to care for them all. When his youngest was born, he wandered the road in sorrow, seeking a godfather who would be fair. God himself appeared, but the man refused him, for God favored the rich. The Devil came next and was also refused. At last, Death stepped forward, pale and quiet. “I make all equal,” Death said. Satisfied, the man chose him.
Death became a faithful godfather and taught the boy the secret art of healing. “I will stand beside the sick,” Death explained. “If I stand at the head, you may cure them. If at the feet, their time has come.” The boy obeyed and grew into a great physician, respected and wealthy.
One day, the king’s daughter fell ill. The physician hurried to her bedside and saw Death waiting at her feet. Moved by love and ambition, he turned the bed so Death stood at her head, and the princess lived.
Death said nothing, but led the physician to a dark cavern filled with countless candles, each burning for a human life. The doctor found his own candle flickering low and begged for mercy. Death reached for a fresh candle, but in doing so, let the old one fall. Its flame went out, and so did the physician’s life, for no one may cheat Death twice.
🎨 Illustration for the Brothers Grimm fairy tale “Godfather Death” (Gevatter Tod) 1905 by Heinrich Lefler
Author’s Note: This is about fictional people being treated like real ones, not about fans having feelings or enjoying characters. Feelings are fine, but harassing real humans over fake people is not.
As usual, quotes are paraphrased things I’ve seen online, not direct citations.
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It seems that some people have forgotten a basic fact: fictional characters aren't real. They're narrative tools designed to tell a story, not independent beings with lives outside the page.
Instead, they’re treated as though they have agency, boundaries, rights, and reputations.
The problem is, once you forget they’re tools and start treating them like real human beings, it’s a short slide into judging real people by their taste in fake ones. Your fave is now a diagnostic tool!
That’s how a medium designed for imagination and exploration turns into a weird personality test where your result is “morally suspect” because you picked the wrong blorbo.
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Let’s be fair: our brains are built to blur this line a bit.
So yes: it’s normal to feel for characters, to cry over them, miss them, be furious with them, horrified by them, joke about them, and more.
That’s not the problem.
The problem starts when we forget that this person we’re defending is, ultimately, a construct built to serve a narrative.
Our brains are always going to lean in, care too much, and temporarily forget the difference, that’s part of why stories work. The goal isn’t to shut that down, it’s to keep one small light on in the back of our minds that says, this isn't real.
Empathy is the engine of fiction, but the trouble starts when we stop remembering there’s a page and a writer behind the “person” we’re ready to die on a hill for.
Author’s Note: As always, these are my own opinions and observations on how we treat stories. This is not a manifesto for “no boundaries ever,” just a plea to stop treating “this upset me” as self-evident proof that something shouldn't exist.
Quotes below are paraphrased versions of things I’ve seen floating around online, not direct citations.
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It appears that somewhere along the way, we quietly slid from:
“This topic is dark and uncomfortable, so I don’t want to read it.”
to:
“This topic is dark and uncomfortable, so no one should be allowed to write or read it.”
That shift? That’s the problem.
But first, let’s address the obvious: some topics are awful. Abuse, violence, murder, cruelty, bigotry, exploitation, incest, war, genocide, systemic harm, the whole cheerful buffet of human horror.
The instinct to recoil from those things is good, and the instinct to prevent them in real life is necessary.
But fiction isn't real life. It’s a space where we can look at things without causing them. It’s one of the few places where the worst things humans do can be examined without anyone actually being harmed in the process.
Saying “this is too dark for fiction” is often just another way of saying, “I don’t want to look at this at all, in any form” which is your right as an individual reader, but not a great principle to build a culture around.
A lot of the “ban this topic” rhetoric assumes one core belief:
If something appears in fiction, it’s being normalised.
Not: “It’s being examined.” “It’s being criticised.” “It’s being shown as horrific.” “It’s being used to express anger, grief, or fear.”
Just: “It exists on the page, therefore the author is okay with it, and the story is telling people it’s okay.”
By that logic:
And honestly, if fiction were that powerful and literal, we’d all be in much worse shape already.
Author’s Note: The thoughts expressed here are my own reflections and interpretations. They’re not meant to be definitive, just part of the broader conversation about fiction and how we read it.
Also, the quotes below are paraphrased from comments I’ve seen over the past few months. They’re not direct citations, but they reflect sentiments I’ve encountered online.
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All excellent questions if you’re approaching fiction with the firm belief that stories should contain nothing complex, messy, or even mildly uncomfortable.
So, dear reader, I ask: When exactly did “writing about it” become equivalent to standing on a rooftop with a megaphone shouting, “I SUPPORT THIS”?
By that logic, authors should only write about impeccably behaved saints making responsible decisions at all times. No conflict, no flaws, no drama - just 300 pages of impeccably moral beings making sensible choices. Absolutely gripping stuff.
What really throws me is how often this logic pops up. Some folks are convinced that if a character does something horrific, the author definitely approves and should probably be on a watchlist, just in case. As if we’re all at our keyboards going, “Yes, my child, go forth and showcase my deep, personal love of toxic relationships and homicide.”
It feels like some people have collectively forgotten that fiction is allowed - encouraged, even - to explore uncomfortable or complicated things, not curate a list of behaviors the author personally endorses or has on their to-do list.
I miss when characters could be morally complex, messy, selfish, disastrous, or outright awful without the author being expected to brandish a gigantic neon sign screaming, "I DON'T SUPPORT ANY OF THIS."
Apparently, modern storytelling should go something like this:
Character: (Commits unspeakable crimes)
Author’s Note: Just to clarify, I do NOT endorse my character’s choices. I’m not morally aligned with this fictional menace to society. Please stop assuming they’re my personal ambassador or that I’m out here supporting their crimes.
And this mindset becomes even more absurd when applied to one of my favorite genres to write: horror. If portraying something means supporting it, then horror authors apparently endorse a laundry list of nightmare fuel.
Horror is supposed to depict terrible things, not because the author applauds them, but because the genre examines the darker corners of human nature.
Horror isn’t just about monsters and murder, it dives into a whole range of difficult topics. It grapples with taboo relationships, unhealthy power dynamics, obsession, manipulation, cycles of abuse, trauma, and so much more. Sometimes it explores the taboo precisely because it’s taboo: the forbidden, the morally wrong, the psychologically unsettling, and the socially off-limits.
Horror systematically engages with these prohibited subjects not to endorse them, but to dissect them, challenge them, and force us to confront why they terrify or repulse us in the first place. That’s kind of the entire point.
So yes, I'm deeply, profoundly confused.
How did we end up here? When exactly did people decide that authors are morally aligned with everything their characters do? When did fiction stop being a space for exploring complexity and start functioning as a background check on the author's morality?
If these people assume that every terrible thing a character does reflects the author’s personal beliefs, we risk creating a climate where authors become hesitant to approach anything difficult at all, constantly bracing for backlash, accusations, and dogpiles for daring to depict anything challenging.
Some stories are meant to lead us into the dark so we can return with something worth thinking about. Readers are always free to step away from topics they find upsetting or difficult - that’s part of curating your own reading experience. But demanding that authors sanitise their characters because certain subjects/behaviours make you uncomfortable only guarantees fiction that never surprises, never challenges, and never stirs anything inside us. That’s how we end up with stories that say nothing, risk nothing, and ultimately mean nothing. And how can a story that never truly touches us hope to stay with us at all?
Long story short:
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About Narrative Side Effects:
Narrative Side Effects is an essay series where I explore how we read fiction - our love of messy, morally dubious characters, so-called “problematic” topics, and the endless arguments that flare up around them. Want to read more of my ramblings? Check out the links below:
📷 The Milky Way from Utah.
📷 The Sedlec Ossuary "The Church of Bones", Sedlec, Kutná Hora, the Czech Republic
