It wouldn't be make-believe if you believed....

As some of you will know, one of my main preoccupations on this blog is around the reader experience and, specifically, the role of belief. How the reader is absorbed (or not) by the book and the extent to which the reader is doing something active rather than passive. The way readers fill gaps and mentally re-write what they read, innovating and weaving.

When I believe, as a reader, something mystical happens. The stage props shimmer away. It is real.

This song - famously referenced by Tennessee Williams in A Streetcar Named Desire - says it all. The video that goes along with it is really wonderful, a collection of vintage photographs all of which share that 'paper moon' prop. Each one, like a book, has a story and a different degree of credibility. Some really invite you to believe what you see; some are awkwardly posed poor shams. Some are something in between - delightful fakes. Some are extraordinary: the man with one leg, balanced against the moon with his crutch; the man wearing an academic gown around whose head the painted night sky seems suddenly more meaningful.

Watch it and ask yourself this: are you wondering about the stories behind these pictures? Are you weaving?



Say, its only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me

Yes, it's only a canvas sky
Hanging over a muslin tree
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me

Without your love
It's a honky-tonk parade
Without your love
It's a melody played in a penny arcade

It's a Barnum and Bailey world
Just as phony as it can be
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me