The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human

As both a nonfiction author and a bestselling novelist, I've pondered certain puzzles for decades. Why do people find certain ideologies and philosophies appealing, but not others? Why do we so often hold to our points of view dogmatically, intractable to all facts, reason, and logic? What is the source of dreams? Why do certain common myths seem to be indelible and universal, across cultures and throughout history? Why does music conjure in us mental imagery? What is the key to the kind of motivational commitment that impels some people to face and triumph over incredible odds and obstacles? Why do we find certain people, at first glance, overpoweringly attractive, and others repulsive? Why do we love some books and movies, and hate others? These and many other mysteries of the human mind and personality are central to the concerns of the artist, psychologist, historian, or person plying any field of communication or persuasion. But is there anything that links together all of these seemingly disparate things? In this brilliant and engrossing book, Jonathan Gottschall reveals the central, essential, and seminal role played by STORY -- or "Narrative" -- in human thought, action, and culture. Moving with seemingly effortless creative ease from riveting personal anecdotes to abstract sociological theories, from baffling historical phenomena to intriguing psychological experiments, Gottschall offers a key to understanding much that has baffled man throughout the ages. For decades, I had believed that philosophical ideas and ideologies reigned supreme in the culture; but over time, events and experience began to collide with that assumption. I first became interested in the extraordinary power of Narratives when reading the works of mythologist Joseph Campbell. Aspiring to write fiction, I became fascinated by how timeless myths found their way into fiction and film; building upon Campbell, "script doctor" Christopher Vogler even uses mythological archetypes to help craft hugely popular movies, and -- in his book The Writers Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers -- to school authors in the craft of fiction-writing. Later, while researching a book project about the roots of the modern environmentalist movement, I also came to realize how certain ancient mythic storylines served as the basis for modern ideologies and major religions. (Gottschall demonstrates this latter truth with his sobering account of the career of Adolph Hitler, who was inspired and guided decisively by the heroic operatic dramas of composer Richard Wagner.) THE STORYTELLING ANIMAL touches upon all of this, and much, much more, drawing the kinds of interdisciplinary and personal connections that most of us would never make in a hundred years. Yet even so, I think Gottschall has barely scratched the surface of the far-flung implications of narratives and stories in our lives. To take just one example, I believe our current president has understood intuitively, and for years, the power of crafting a compelling "personal narrative" in order to launch and propel his political career to wildly improbable success -- and how he relied on crafting a similar "morality play" about himself and his opponents in order to win re-election in 2012. But that is just one of the important implications to be drawn from this extraordinary work. Let me add that Gottschall is himself a wonderful writer and storyteller. A book that could have been an imposing intellectual chore and bore never flags for a moment in holding the reader and keeping him turning pages. So as not to distract or interrupt his own narrative, he sequesters a formidable array of endnotes and a vast bibliography unobtrusively, after the text. I love books like this -- books that upend my previous understanding, books that augment my grasp of the world. For all these reasons, I can't recommend THE STORYTELLING ANIMAL strongly enough. A joy to read and ponder, it's the most intellectually fertile nonfiction work I've read in years. --Robert Bidinotto, author, "HUNTER"

This is, essentially, a solid read. It is what one of my editors called "a good book", not a conclusive study, not a magisterial investigation, not an encyclopedic guide. It looks at the importance of storytelling and the ways in which storytelling helps to define humanity itself. This it does quite well. It examines the world of storytelling, the reasons for the violence and conflict therein, the fact that stories may be `extreme' but still have conventional lessons at their core, and so on. The book looks at the future of storytelling and draws on interesting literary and personal examples. The book is filled with illustrations, many of them quite effective, and it is filled with anecdotes, many of which are engaging and compelling. At first I thought that this would be, first and foremost, a contribution to the literature/evolutionary science literature--the kind of work done by Brian Boyd, Lisa Zunshine, Joseph Carroll, et al. The author does move in that circle, and there are touches of such material here and there, but the overall focus of the book is far broader and the book's tone is very traditional, in the sense of a relaxed voice speaking to general readers. There are endnotes referring to passages in the book, but no footnotes per se. While informed by scholarship, this is not a scholarly book per se. The book makes use of much `scientific' material, examining, e.g., the many explanations for the existence and nature of dreams. It does not draw conclusions, however, but rather offers the reader a sample of current thought. Modest in its dimensions, I was surprised, e.g., that it did not consider some of the work of cognitive scientists, e.g. Daniel Willingham's discussions of the functions of memory and of the importance of stories for the brain--challenging enough to ward off boredom but not so challenging (like abstraction, e.g.) as to force the brain to labor. Using a measure like Goldilocks', stories are `just right' for the brain. One of the striking aspects of the book is that it utilizes contemporary materials to essentially confirm the traditional lessons of literary history. Aristotle's model for narrative arcs is shown to be rock-solid, as is Horace's belief that literary art at its best both teaches and pleases. One specific example: the author discusses the manner in which fMRI research demonstrates that readers/listeners/watchers share the emotions of the characters whose stories they are consuming. When the characters undergo certain experiences and emotions, comparable parts of the audience's brains light up. Thus, stories engender empathy, big time. Samuel Johnson, of course, made this point very explicitly, arguing that the novel was a very dangerous form because of the degrees of empathy that it engendered. It could change readers in dramatic ways, for good or ill. Another example: leaning on Pinker and an evolutionary orientation, the author argues that literary materials can equip us for living by building up in our brains a set of experiences/examples that can help us navigate the seas and shoals of real life. Kenneth Burke made that point in a celebrated essay (`Literature as Equipment for Living') in 1938. Bottom line: this is a delightful book that explores the nature and importance of storytelling. It is accessible to general readers and the kind of book that nearly every thoughtful person could enjoy. It does not represent a series of scholarly breakthroughs, though it brings interesting material to bear on old issues (with fairly predictable conclusions). Its secular/skeptical approach to religious stories will be offputting to readers of faith, but that represents a small segment of the book's general argument. It does not make use of upper-paleolithic cave paintings in the way that it might. Since these are the first `art', art from prehistory, one might ask why its representations of animals are so dazzling, its representations of humans so primitive (when such images exist at all). There is no narrative there, to speak of, but rather rapt attention to the stark beauty of the animal subjects. Why? Does a kind of pure mimesis precede narrative art by thousands of years?

Jonathan Gottschall looks into how and why humans are pulled to stories, making various cases and presenting interesting theories along the way. In my opinion, this book is a solid introduction to the subject, but not a fleshed out exploration. In this review, I would like to go through the most engaging parts for me and why I have come to certain conclusions or opinions. Neverland never leaves us The book begins by setting up the stage for this fascinating topic. It starts guiding us through various ideas (and even a test) to prove how bewitching stories can be. Gottschall uses the idea of Neverland throughout the book and it is mentioned in the first chapter. He starts by noting that children love spending time creating stories and enacting them. Then, he writes, "We may leave the nursery, with its toy trucks and dress-up clothes, but we never stop pretending. We just change how we do it. Novels, dreams, films, and fantasies are provinces of Neverland." He points out that humans never stop their involvement with stories. This seems quite true since there are many executives and producers that use story to move their customers and audiences. From the old ages where storytelling was mainly word-of-mouth to now where storytelling takes form in TV, movies, and even video games, stories have attracted us and I think they always will. Why does Neverland never leave us? The true question is why story has not been eliminated from human life through evolution. Basically, there has to be some sort of purpose for story. Otherwise, it would not have pursued to stay with us for so long. Some people think that fiction is used for a lot of things, like exercising the mind, passing down experiences, or forming a social glue among people. However, what if the alternative is considered? In my opinion, Gotschall introduces one of the most interesting theories here. Perhaps fiction is for nothing at all. It serves no purpose. At first, I thought this was a very poor argument to make. After all, story is all around us. If it was for nothing, wouldn't it have been eliminated through evolution, like mentioned before? Then, he makes his case, "Story may educate us, deepen us, and give us joy. Story may be one of the things that makes its most worthwhile to be human. But that doesn't mean story has a biological purpose." Although it seemed hard to believe (and I didn't want to think all my hours reading books were wasteful), it opened my mind. Maybe stories are for the sole purpose of enjoyment. We do many things that we have no value or need for, so maybe story is one of them. Not just empathy, but sympathy Humans cannot have stories if there is no conflict. If there is a story with no problems or interesting scenarios, the story is not at all engaging. The story does not elicit a response. Here, Gottschall finally started to bring in some science. As a current student in an introductory neuroscience class, I had been waiting for a neurological and scientific inquiry into why stories charm and move us. In one case, scientists used fMRI machines to monitor audience reaction. While watching the movie The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, it was discovered that "When Eastwood was angry, the viewer's brains looked angry, too. When the scene was sad, the viewers' brains also looked sad." With brain scanning, scientists were able to see that mirror neurons started firing in the brain. This caused the audience to have real, strong emotional responses that coincided with the story being told. They would not just empathize with the characters, but sympathize with them. However, this exploration into mirror neurons was short. There is not much more that Gottschall included, not that there needed to be any more with the point he was making. Still, I would have liked a little more meat, a little more scientific background into this topic. Also, there are some cases where audiences react more strongly to one scenario than another. It would have been great to learn the reasoning behind this. After all, not all movies elicit brilliant responses and become box office hits. Jouvet's Cats It is really strange to think about dreams, how they occur, why they occur, what causes one dream compared to another, etc. Gottschall explains some well known theories, such as one from Freud and the random activation theory (RAT). Jouvet's cats were intriguing to read about (again, my bias towards neuroscience coming into play). Jouvet severed the connection in the brain stem that signaled for paralysis in sleep in a few cats. During sleep, the cats would experience many scenarios of capturing prey or avoiding predators. Apparently, the dream world is filled with trouble. Again, there seems to be no story without conflict and since dreams are riddled with stories, they are riddled with conflict. Now that I think back to my own dreams (or those that I remember), it seems like they are all filled with trouble, sadness, or some sort of mission to resolve a dilemma. Perhaps dreams act as simulators then, preparing us for problems in the real world. This is something to think about. To clean the chicken coop, of course! The mind likes to invent stories, even if they are not real. An experiment conducted by Gazzaniga with split brain patients truly entertained me. Because of the way the visual system works, many split-brain patients were able to process images presented to both their left and right visual fields. One patient was shown a chicken's foot to the left and a snowy scene to the right. He was told to pick up two cards with pictures on them with both hands. He chose a chicken card with his right hand and a shovel card with his left hand. When asked why, he said he chose the chicken card because he saw a picture of a chicken's foot. However, he said he chose the shovel card not because he had seen the snowy scene, but because a chicken coop can be cleaned out with a shovel. It seems as if the initial images had been processed correctly in the brain and his hands chose the correct cards. However, the reasoning for one of the cards was a subtle lie. The brain didn't understand why the left hand had chosen a shovel due to the severed connection between the two halves of the brain. So, it made a reason up, to clean the chicken coop. This result was seen with other images and tests with different patients as well. It seems like the brain needs to create links. If it does not know the truth or reason behind something, it will create one. The brain will create stories naturally. This idea is quite scary... yet wondrous at the same time. How fiction influences reality I really liked reading the chapter on how "Ink People Change the World". It was interesting to learn of Adolf Hitler's fascination with Wagner's compositions and how they may have influenced his life of conquest. Although this chapter is more about speculation and theories that cannot be proven, I liked reading it since I do believe some stories compel and move people enough to make changes in reality. Gottschall says, "... when we are absorbing in a story, we drop our intellectual guard. We are moved emotionally, and this seems to leave us defenseless." Scientific explanations and research were not mentioned in abundance here. Yet, the idea that fiction can change real life doesn't seem difficult to believe after learning about how strongly we relate to it, feel it. Style, Structure, and Overall Review The book starts off at a great pace, building excitement for the coming chapters. It sets up the stage for this mysterious thing only humans seem to do: storytelling. Of course, the book is made more interesting by the way the author writes. His personality is clearly woven into the writing as he tries to interact with his readers through tests and relate to them through his personal recollections. I could do without some unnecessary pictures. At times, the images did not even have captions or explanations in the main text of the book. Still, Gottschall relays information well and the experiments mentioned were complimentary to the theories discussed. I do think the subject is too broad to be captured in this number of pages and at times, I needed to clarify which idea was proving what. Perhaps if the number of topics were reduced and more thorough investigating was done, I would personally be more satisfied with the organization and explanation of the material. Moreover, I wanted a more neurological background to our storytelling nature. I wanted to understand what exactly in our mind clicks and turns with story. I believe addressing this would give the book more substance, but it works as a great introduction to the material without it. In summary, this book gave a brief yet enjoyable introduction to our fascination with story. The author does try to research various materials, as shown in the long bibliography at the end. So, I would definitely recommend this book to a friend or anyone interested in taking a dip in the subject.

I had seen Jonathan Gottschall's very good TEDTalk about the human propensity for story telling (and why we have it). So, I decided to purchase this book. All in all, I found the book was a pretty average (mostly because meandering) set of semi-connected essays about how and why story affects our lives. We get everything from an up-and-coming theory about how dreams are stories our brain tells "designed" to help us learn and encode information, to how we think in narrative form, to the author's own opinions on the future of story. Some of this was good, some was a bit questionable, and I was disappointed that certain things I thought would appear didn't. I especially liked the author's last chapter on the future of story. As a literary scholar, the author has some mild empathy for the "story is dead, because novels/poems aren't taken seriously" narrative... but probably about as much (really, as little) as I do. Story, he rightly points out, is alive and well on tv and movies; poetry is alive and well in music (and particularly rap). The author points out that people who think story is dead are incorrectly tying function to form; since form x of storytelling is disappearing (and a look at the bestseller list will show that people still read!), therefore, storytelling in general is disappearing. I also liked the author's discussion of how we conceive of our lives as stories of a sort, where we are protagonists fighting against obstacles, adversities... and making our stories often seem a bit more interesting than they might be in reality. But, while I hate to criticize books for failing to live up to my expectations for them, I was quite mystified at the author's omission of the narrative theory of identity (you can find Dan McAdams's books on this theory on amazon). The author alludes to the theory when he talks about how we use narrative to 'construct' life histories, he didn't really go into the theory or how narrative is an important vehicle for 'constructing' of our own "who am I?" identities, and how the stories we tell are often affected by the culture we live in and what is significant in that culture. That might be worth a separate chapter, or at least a separate subsection. Another area where I could have used more was the author's discussion of dreams as stories. It used to be that we conceived of dreams as suconscious Freudian messages to be decoded. Then, evolutionary theorists suggested that dreams are really just a meaningless biproduct of our brain's mental activity during sleep. And now, there is a fairly new theory (that is gaining steam in the research world as I understand it) that dreams are the brain's way of helping us learn and encode previously-learned information into our memory 'banks.' (For instance, when I wrote my dissertation, I would often dream that I was explaining its ideas to others, and would wake up more sure of what I wanted to say.) While I don't doubt that dreams can be seen this way, I am not sure I buy the theory completely. My main objection is that many dreams are way too bizarre and grandiose to suggest that this is our brain thinking through things so that we can better "figure out" the real world. At any rate, the author didn't address what I think was a fairly obvious objection. So, there it is. I enjoyed the book a fair amount. The author is, unsurprisingly, a very good writer and he puts a lot of information (and reflection) into this book, though the reader never feels overwhelmed. But, by the same token, the book also lacks any real focus... aside from being a book of fairly separate chapters all loosely related to the human propensity for storytelling.

If I could give a book a six-star rating, I'd probably give it to this book. Written by an Engish professor at Washington and Jefferson College, Jonathan Gottschall, it's as good as anything you will ever read about stories and how they mold us as individuals and how they hold our societies together. It is, I think, quite brilliant. Gottschall romps through a huge range of research in psychology, evolutionary theory, anthropology, media studies, and even the sociology of online multi-player gaming communities in spinning his own analysis. It's often hugely insightful and almost always persuasive. More importantly, it's a great story. Because, after all, it's stories that persuade us, not facts or reason on their own. The author's foundation belief is that "we are, as a species, addicted to story. Even when the body goes to sleep, the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories." In fact, he thinks that our species would be more aptly called "homo fictus" (fiction man), the great ape with the story-telling mind. He says emphatically that "Neverland is your home, and before you die, you will spend decades there." Gottschall observes that anthropologists have yet to find a culture that does not tell stories. Moreover, these stories are all very similar across cultures, and deal with the universal themes of sex, love, struggle for power, good and evil, death ... The plot line always contains some form of Trouble with a capital T. The structure of the stories is also near-universal, following the formula of story = character + conflict + attempted resolution. From this set of cultural universals, it is tempting to conclude that we are wired for stories. That's the theory that Gottschall essentially embraces. In particular, he embraces the view of David Sloan Wilson in his book "Darwin's Cathedral: Evolution, Religion, and the Nature of Society" that cultures that tell stories out-compete those that don't. Stories hold societies together, providing them with a set of common, shared myths: foundation stories, religious stories, patriotic stories, and so forth. A cooperative, united society kick ass against the every-man-for-himself society. Gottschall does a wonderful job of drawing on the world of story-telling to illustrate how life can imitate art, on a grand scale. Some stories promote greater racial understanding or greater wariness of authoritarianism, such as To Kill a Mockingbird or Animal Farm or Darkness at Noon. Some, on the other hand, promote hatred, such as DW Griffith's silent classic film Birth of Nation, which created a renaissance for the Klu Klux Klan in the early 20th century by painting that organization as the savior of the white race in the post-Civil War southern U.S. And at least one book has even triggered a major war: Uncle Tom's Cabin increased opposition to slavery but also helped unleash a civil war that slaughtered a good part of an entire generation of young American men. A century and a half later, the effects of the war still linger. Gottschall does not just focus at the societal level. At the level of individuals, he analyzes the role of our addiction to made-up stories in writing the history of our own lives. It's a well-studied phenomenon that our memories of the actual facts of our lives are notoriously unreliable. Even our deeply held conviction that we remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when a disaster occurred -- 9/11, the assassination of John F Kennedy -- turns out to be self-delusion. The accuracy of our recollection fades, but our confidence does not. The majority of Americans confidently and precisely remember seeing video of the first plane striking one of the World Trade Centers on the morning of 9/11. So did George Bush, when he described his reactions just three months after the events. No such video was available at the time. But faulty memories are not necessarily a weakness. Since our memories are so unreliable, this frees us to write our own, improved versions of our lives. Happy people write happy stories. Happy stories create happy people. Notoriously, we also see patterns in events even where none exists. There are thousands of conspiracy sub-cultures that have woven together random bits of flotsam and jetsam to assemble simple theories of how the world works. We don't like randomness. We don't like to believe that s*** just happens. We don't like to think that four American diplomats got killed in Benghazi in Libya because, well, bad things do just happen in chaotic war-torn countries where lots of people hate the U.S. and that have no functioning government. Instead, we see a vast cover-up orchestrated from the top. It's easier to believe in handful of bad guys hatching a plot than it is to conceive of the real life, complex maelstrom of post-Gaddhafi Libya. The last chapter, on the future of story-telling, is particularly good. If you've ever heard of World of Warcraft, you should read that chapter. It almost made me want to play the game. Almost.

This is a fascinating book presenting important findings and theories on stories as a critical dimension of human evolutiont. This core idea is well reflected in the following passages: “In recent decades, roughly corresponding with the rise of TV, psychology has begun a serious study of story’s effects on the human mind… fiction does mold our minds. Story—whether delivered through films, books, or video games—teaches us facts about the world; influences our moral logic; and marks us with fears, hopes, and anxieties that alter our behavior, perhaps even our personalities. Research shows that story is constantly nibbling and kneading us, shaping our minds without our knowledge or consent” (p. 148); and “Humans are creatures of Neverland. Neverland is our evolutionary niche, our special habitat” (p. 177). But, while recognizing some dangers, the book is too optimistic on the impacts of storytelling on humanity. Thus, the book does not confront the negative effects of amusement industry, advertisement fables and political marketing stories. Its most serious error assumes morality-enhancing effects of stories, as if there exists an universal and timeless human morality reinforced by them. The author mentions violence caused by conflicting religious beliefs, but then forgets all about it when making statements claiming that “as with sacred myths, ordinary stories—from TV shows to fairy tales—steep us all in the same powerful norms and values” (p. 134). Thus the book ignores the pluralism of values which contradict each other. If the author had taken into account Nazi stories and movies he would not make a grievous error: ignoring a fundamental feature of humanity, namely self-righteous highly moral persons and collectives clinging fanatically to different stories producing a sense of moral duty to kill non-believers, inferior races, exploiters and so on – making history into what Hegel called a “slaughterhouse” and quite likely. when driven with fitting stories and equipped with increasingly effective tools of mass killing, endangering the future of the human species.. Related is the author’s statement “that fiction, by constantly marinating our brains in the theme of poetic justice, may be partly responsible for the overly optimistic sense that the world is, on the whole, a just place. And yet the fact that we take this lesson to heart may be an important part of what makes human societies work (p. 135). True, the human species continues to exist, though its future is not assured. And most humans are at present materially better off than ever before. But the masses of India, Africa, large parts of South America and more hardly think that global society works well; and lack of coping with climate change throws even more doubts on the “working” of human society as a whole. Therefore, much of the story telling giving a good feeling to parts of humanity may be a toxic tranquillizer. Thus, besides its many merits, the book suffers from what I call the “Better Angels Mirage.” A more critical stance on the impacts of stories would have made this book even better. Professor Yehezkel Dror The Hebrew University of Jerusalem

More cognitive psychology than English studies, more sociology than history. Which is why it appealed to me. Three more words.

I am a huge believer in the power of story as the most impactful form of communication. Jonathan Gottshall's book, subtitled "How Stories Make Us Human," is a wonderful addition to the body of work that examines the art of storytelling. In a sense, the author is a pioneer, offering for the first time a unified theory of storytelling, explaining why human beings are hard-wired to tell and listen to stories in all of their forms - oral tradition, books, films, plays, myths, dreams, children's games, fairy tales and video games. Gottschall presents a compelling case for the fact that stories help us, as human beings, navigate life's complexities in much the same way that pilots learn to anticipate airborne challenges through the use of flight simulators. The book is a wonderful weaving together of art and science - neuroscience, evolutionary biology and psychology - to explain the strong hold that stories have over us. Stories have the ability to change both our perception and our behavior. It has been demonstrated experimentally that individuals who read fiction are more empathetic than those who do not. If you have interest in stories and their telling, this is a book that needs to go to the top of your list.

Intensely entertaining, mind blowing, makes you question everything. Full of revealing research, pop culture references and good storytelling overall!

De manera breve y sencilla profundiza en aspectos centrales de la antropología, es una gran perspectiva de lo que nos hace humanos.

Ritengo la lettura di questo libro fondamentale per capire l'importanza delle storie e del gioco per l'essere umano. Spiegazioni molto soddisfacenti su come funzioniamo!

Uma ferramenta para compreender melhor a importância das narrativas na história do homem.

How important is the story for human beings? This simple yet deep question is a starting point for Jonathan Gottschall's 2012 book The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human, a well thought-out and richly documented study of the importance of stories and storytelling in our lives. Make no mistake, this book is far from being merely an account of different puzzles and questions concerning human ability to tell stories. The author draws from various disciplines like biology or evolutionary psychology and makes a convincing argument that stories help us to adapt and survive in an ever changing world. Gottschall is one of the leading scholars of a newly emerging branch of literary criticism, Darwinian Literary Studies, which promises to bridge the gap between humanities and more empirical areas of knowledge. The interdisciplinary spectrum of Literary Darwinism enables scholars to establish a fresh perspective on human cognition. Thus, The Storytelling Animal is a part of a cutting-edge study and as such increases our understanding of basic human drives and behaviors. The structure of the book is lucid and clear. I particularly liked how each chapter smoothly guides the reader to the following one, much like separate episodes of a story are linked to become a greater whole. On the other hand, every chapter could be read as a standalone work--this speaks volumes about Gottschall's remarkable skill as a scholar and an author. Without a doubt the writing style is a positive element of the book. Gottschall does not shy away from discussing scientific matters in detail, yet manages to do so in a lighthearted tone sprinkled with a bit of irony and a tad of anecdote. All of this combined makes the reader "feel" the presence of the author, as if we are having a friendly and engaging conversation with Gottschall. He lays down the ideas, but it is ultimately the reader's task to pick them up and contemplate on them. Gottschall's starts his study with an amusing story. It has long been believed that an immortal ape could, when locked in a room with a typewriter and Notes Towards the Complete Works of Shakespeare, recreate Shakespeare's masterpieces. As silly as this theory sounds, "the ape story" foreshadows Gottschall's line of argument in his book. As he claims, no other animal has the capacity to create stories. No other animal can learn from stories. A human being is not only homo sapiens, the reasoning man, but is perhaps first and foremost homo fictus, the fictionalizing man. But why people create fiction? Gottschall dedicates the remainder of his book to find the answer. In the following chapters he establishes that storytelling is a much more fundamental element of human nature than most of us think. First of all, Gottschall claims that the traditional distinction between author (the source of a story) and the reader (the passive received) in not as clear cut as it may appear. Gottschall explains that contrary to the popular belief it is the reader who, when immersed in the story, does much of the imaginative work. When reading fiction we meticulously analyze details set by the author. We create specific images of the story and interpret them at whim. We tend to feel deep connection with the protagonists. We make moral judgments. In other words, we care very much about fiction. As Gottshall explains: "[w]hen we experience a story, our brains are churning, working hard" (5). But this experience is retained also when we play or daydream. Studies on children's games or our daily fantasies confirm as much. We unfold stories in every second of our lives--storytelling is our "default state." However, if this is so, what is the purpose of fiction? Isn't daydreaming inherently dangerous, because people are cut off from reality? Not necessarily. Our brain is an extraordinary machine, says Gottschall. Its main evolutionary function is to help us to adapt, and it can fulfill this function by creating a story--and this is Gottschall's most powerful point--storytelling can be seen as an evolutionary tool. Stories make us follow complicated plots, solve mysteries, experience varieties of emotions and mental states, refine social competence, stimulate imagination. Without them our lives would be dull. And even more importantly, from these experiences we incorporate knowledge--we gain evolutionary advantage. This notion is corroborated by another powerful idea conveyed by Gottschall. He claims that our brains do not know the difference between simulation and reality. Indeed, "to simulate is to do." For example, if we read about a wizard fighting an evil dragon, we experience what it means to fight an evil dragon as if it was real. In this respect stories not only teach us, but as Gottshall maintains: "[t]he emotions of fiction are highly contagious, and so are ideas" (150). Thus fiction shapes our personality, influences our choices, and makes us who we are. What is more, Gottschall demonstrates that the view that humans are creatures of pure reason is fundamentally mistaken. We fictionalize everything; our reality is as much about facts as it is about our fictionalized interpretation of data. Interestingly, now are the times when we are able not only to fictionalize reality, but create a virtual one. In the concluding chapters of The Storytelling Animal Gottschall talks about the prospects of this change. He tries to sneak-peak the future of the story, and what a marvelous future it is. The technology changed our ways of communication. Radio, TV, the Internet--each new medium was a milestone in human development. But in the future virtual reality will be more than that; it has the potential to become our home. We will not only communicate in a different way, but we will create scripts for our lives in virtual reality--a promise to fulfill everyone's wildest dreams. Everyone will write his own life story, and the only limit will be one's imagination. Will there ever be a time when each person will live in a custom-made world? It is hard to say, but undeniably the opportunity presents itself. To sum up, in my opinion Gottschall managed to write an excellent study that introduces a fresh take on the art of storytelling. Once relegated to the margins of scholarly interest, storytelling regains its place as a core part of the study of human nature.