during tragedies, or, equivalently, look scared during horrorfilms) is far
from uncontroversial and it has been the subject of much philosophical
discussion, some of which we explore in Chapter 6. We can’t go into the
details here, but clearly there isn’t an unambiguous answer. Indeed, much
of the discussion seems tobeginwith the thought that people can’t believe
that what they’re seeing is real (and hence to draw conclusions about the
meaning of their behaviour) or, instead, to begin with the thought that
people can’t cry unless they think something is real (and hence to draw
conclusions about their beliefs). A last option, favoured by Plato and
Augustine–and not without contemporary advocates–is to conclude
that audiences are temporarily insane.
Afinal strategy might be to point to the contribution of the spectator.
Given that we can snap ourselves out of the spell, one could argue that it
requires a kind of consent, cooperation or even active involvement and,
hence, that the spectator is not deceived. How we describe the‘voluntary
contribution’ from the spectator may vary: Coleridge, for example,
describes the‘temporary half-faith, which the spectator encourages in
himself and supports by a voluntary contribution on his own part’.^57
(And elsewhere, of course, he speaks of the‘willing suspension of dis-
belief’.) Although he disagrees with the details of Coleridge’s formation,
McCollom defines theatrical illusion specifically in terms of ‘the specta-
tor’s[...] participation in a dramatic action’.^58 But we can’t simply move
from the voluntary contribution of the spectator to the lack of false belief
on her part. It would be perfectly consistent to hold that we contribute to
our own false beliefs. Tied to the mast and screaming to be released,
Odysseus believes (falsely, one assumes) that visiting the sirens is a pretty
good plan; and there’s a fairly intuitive sense in which Odysseus has
contributed to this false belief. Of course, although he contributed to it,
Odysseus can’t obviously snap himself out of his false belief once it is in
place; but to say (with Coleridge) that it’s always within the power of the
spectator to break the spell does not mean to say that the spell, when in
place, is not a false belief. In any case, one could consistently claim that
the spectator contributes to her false belief and that there are moments
when she cannot snap herself out of it; in effect, this is Stendhal’s view.^59
We should set aside the question of whether the entranced spectator
falsely believes. Instead, even if the spell is or causes a kind of false belief,
the false belief doesn’t last longer than the performance itself. Compare this
with those generated by the other kinds of illusions that we have discussed:
Houdini’s audience, for example, will be as confused after the performance as
they were during it; Krull was surprised by what he saw in the dressing
room, long after the performance was done. It is true that certain psy-
chological effects of the spell may endure past thefinal bow; but even if
being under the spell means‘believing it’s all real’, we can all agree that
Truth and illusion 65