Eventually, every UFO researcher learns that certain details in
abduction narratives can be so bizarre that conventional reality is
left in shreds. A woman, floated through her bedroom wall, finds
herself after the abduction in the woods, a mile from home, in her
nightgown, shoeless and thoroughly chilled. When she finally stumbles
back to her house she is, naturally, locked out. Luckily, she finds
some housekeys in the glove compartment of her car, and manages,
around dawn, to open the double-turn locks and get back inside. An
Ohio woman, abducted in her nightgown, is returned wearing a
tee-shirt bearing the logo of a Japanese university. Another woman,
abducted while driving her car, finds herself afterwards back in a
car, but not her own. The automobile she is in is moving, and in the
next lane is a puzzled-looking gentleman driving her car! She is
instantly re- abducted, as is the other man, and they are placed back
in the proper cars.
I could recite such details endlessly, but it's not really necessary
to make the point. If an extensively-researched UFO case lacks any
odd details - if its truth is not a lot stranger than fiction, I
might find myself becoming a bit suspicious of the case or its
investigator.
Recently, the film Sleepers was reviewed by Terrence Rafferty in The
New Yorker. The movie is based upon what is purportedly a true story,
but it has subsequently been widely attacked as fiction, not fact.
Without going into the complexity of its implausibly symmetrical,
polished and satisfying plot, I would like to quote Rafferty:
"The implausibility of the story isn't what makes it dubious, either:
most of us have no trouble believing that truth is stranger than
fiction, and the events that [the screenwriter] relates
aren't inherently more implausible than those of, say, "Lorenzo's
Oil," "Europa, Europa," "Apollo 13," or "Schindler's List." The
problem with "Sleepers" - book and movie - is that this "true" story
is exactly as strange as fiction, and in exactly the same way...
"Essentially, the idea that truth is stranger than fiction says very
little about `truth' and quite a lot about `fiction.' It's a simple
aesthetic judgement - an acknowledgement that invented narratives
rarely do justice to the complexity and variety of experience."
One rather naive young man recently wrote to me about his feelings
about the bizarre details I recounted in Witnessed, my book about the
Brooklyn Bridge abductions. Apparently misled by a years-old
scurrilous (and now discredited) attack on the book, he regarded the
extraordinary complexity and variety of experience in Witnessed as
signs of hand-crafted fiction rather than as signs of the bizarre
nature of the UFO phenomenon. I explained to him that like UFO
reports, even conventional, "real world" truth can sometimes sound
"crazy," with all kinds of loose ends and preposterous details.
But fiction, to be effective, should be composed so as to avoid the
distractions of irrelevant details, grotesque non sequiturs and the
blind alleys of real life. As the playright said, if a pistol is
shown in the first act it must be fired by the end of the play. In
real life, pistols appear and disappear without ever having been
fired. Fiction must smoothly persuade and satisfy us, whereas real
life - and certainly UFO abduction accounts - are rarely neat,
predictable, or free of inexplicable dead ends.
This young man recalled the admittedly bizarre detail in Witnessed of
the third man's having been placed back on the roof of his car after
the abduction. He called this detail "preposterous," "smelling like a
hoax." However, after twenty years of investigation into reported
alien behavior, including their odd "mistakes" and frequent
grotesqueries, I find this "preposterous" detail to have precisely
the ring of truth. Check with any experienced abduction researcher
and he/she will unhesitatingly agree.
But equally important, this detail is also so preposterous that no
fiction writer would have invented it, let alone dared to use it -
unless, of course, he wanted to lose his audience and invite
skepticism from those unfamiliar with the vagaries of alien
behavior.
In a second, similar example this young man quoted Janet Kimball as
saying that when her car lights went out and the engine died on the
Brooklyn Bridge while the abduction scene unfolded nearby, passengers
from other stalled cars were "running around.. .with their hands on
their heads, screaming from horror and disbelief." For me, having
listened to the accounts of hundreds of frightened abductees, Janet's
remark has the familiar sound of panicky, shocked hyperbole.
Overstatement is more a sign of actual, traumatized experience than a
quality one finds in well-crafted fiction designed by a professional
to smoothly carry his readers along with him.
It's anyone's right, of course, to reject any case - the Walton case,
Kathie Davis, Betty Andreasson, Linda Cortile, Betty and Barney Hill
- because the details, hypnotic regressions, images, letters,
eye-witness testimony, etc., seem preposterous to one's sense of the
possible. Many details in all of the above classic cases do sound
preposterous: Andreasson's phoenix, rising from the ashes, Walton's
airlocks and UFO hangar, and so on. In fact, each of these cases seem
far stranger than fiction. Far stranger.
But for the experienced UFO abduction investigator, these bizarre
details are the mark of truth - which is often truly irregular and
irrational - rather than signs of fiction. Fn-writers must smooth out
their prose in order to convince, elminating whtever awkward detils
might get in the way of creating belief in the reader. Signs Qf tbe
unique "craziness" of alien behavior and the irrational behavior of
traumatized witnesses should rightfully regarded as evidence for,
rather than against, the authenticity of an abduction account. If
truth is rougher and stranger than fiction, good fiction is neater
and - perversely - more easily believed.