We all have had the experience of watching a horror film and fretting out of our skin.

Some of us might claim to those around us "I am afraid." Kendall Walton would argue it is not actual fear we are experiencing. Moreover, in his argument he would consider every other emotion we "feel" towards fiction to be "quasi". But before moving on to discuss why Walton thinks it may not be fear we are feeling, let's discuss what an emotion really is. An emotion entails a belief in the agent that elicits the emotion. Particularly for fear, there are numerous examples of our judgments about agents of danger or insecurity of personal well-being. Specifically, imagine you are in your bed at night with the lights off and you hear a creak, just as you are about to fall asleep. Disregarding any feelings or sensations you may have, you may become scared there is a murderer about to enter your room. You don't (necessarily) believe there is someone outside the door, but you do (necessarily) believe there is a possibility of a murderer being there. This belief, or judgment about the possibility, elicits the fear, despite the likelihood of this possibility. Now that the composition of an emotion has been established, I will present Walton's argument against our "fearing fictions". Imagine a boy, Charles, watching a horror film about a wretched slime. He cowers; he trembles; he quivers; he even tells you he's afraid. But, considering the characteristics of his fear, his condition appears to be appreciably different than that of ordinary fear. Charles, with full knowledge the slime is fictional, certainly doesn't believe he is in danger because if he is, couldn't we expect him to run away from the slime? Charles, though, told us he was afraid; he believed it. Does this address the truth

behind his feeling fear or does it relate to the potency of the experience? It seems if he bases his claim of having felt fear on his feelings or his sensations, he is merely discussing the intensity of his state and, hence, gives no regard to the reality of his emotion toward the slime. Walton's claim is Charles cannot be experiencing real fear since he does not have the relevant beliefs. Walton recognizes Charles is having an emotional response to (mindfully) fictional events or characters; how can these responses be emotional without the necessary judgments? One reply to the claim Charles isn't feeling fear is he truly does believe the slime is a genuine menace to him. Certainly Charles knows the slime isn't there, but could there be another form of belief? This gives rise to a possible consideration; Charles is exhibiting a "gut" belief. Consider a man fervently afraid of plane rides. He avoids planes at all costs, while being aware there really is minimal probability of a plane crash actually occurring. Is this "gut" belief what Charles is experiencing? Walton doesn't find this convincing even if he agrees with the principle of "gut" fears. This situation, the man scared of plane crashes, is conceptually quite different than Charles'. The man with the fear of planes materializes his fear in that he avoids flying. Charles, on the other hand, does nothing of the sort. Charles' automatic bodily responses are not done by Charles. He undergoes no deliberate actions to avoid his fear. He never even considers turning off the movie. Are there other such replies that have superficially apparent solutions? Can we also consider a situation in which Charles is "momentarily" afraid? Maybe it is the case that Charles forgets, just for a moment, the slime is not real. This isn't a sufficient duration to consider an egress from the slime and thus would evoke

similar responses to fear without introducing an intellectual solution to escape the fear. To respond, Walton simply considers the duration of Charles' fear in the movie which could have been for the entire movie. How could this then be momentary fear? Moreover, considering things other than fearadmiration for exampleit seems obvious we don't momentarily admire Balto; it spans our life (possibly until we mature). There are not merely moments in which we admire Balto but a length of time defined to be greater than a moment. Is it conceivable, then, that the emotions we experience while reading tempestuous books or watching films filled with anathema are really not emotions at all, or that they are emotions simply relating to some other (real) agent or judgment? Each time one of us is in the aforementioned situation we don't believe that our emotion is anything other than fear. But why is this? Do we feel fear in a lesser form, or feel some sort of surreal fear? This logical puzzle is counterintuitive to the extent that it is often dismissed even by those who realize it must be considered for its merit. Do we drop to the level of fiction itself, submerging ourselves in the story? If so, why does it seem so real?