I have to admit that I’m not one of those readers who gets too hung up about accuracy in fiction. After all, fiction is, by definition, a work of imagination, and not of fact. And so, when I read fiction I’m pretty good at suspending my disbelief. I’m more interested in the world created by the author and whether what is written makes sense (is consistent) within that world. I know this is a simple response to a complex question, but it is the rule-of-thumb I go by and has served me well over the years!

This is not so for all readers…as I have discovered over many years of book discussion. I was thus entertained to come across the following exchange in the “Other People’s Letters” section of The ABC Weekly issue of 15 February 1941 which I read today. It concerns a story, by Australian playwright and novelist Max Afford, that had been serialised in the magazine.

Here is the letter:

Why do authors persistently make their characters wear spectacles with “thick” lenses, such as Edward Blaire apparently needs in your serial Owl of Darkness. No spectacle lenses are ever made thick, as thickness has no effect whatever on the lens power, and would only increase their weight. If it were meant to imply that the spectacles had lenses of high power in them, they could be referred to as “strong” but definitely not “thick”. [Name withheld – by me!]

Here is Max Afford’s response:

It is regrettable that your correspondent is not as careful over facts as he is about nonsensical hair-splitting details. The gentleman is entirely wrong! Sydney oculists assure me that, in some cases, spectacle lenses are ground to as much as 1/4 inch [about 6mm for my younger readers here!] thick.

So there you have it! Our poor gentleman loses on both counts: he is hairsplitting and he is wrong anyhow! Personally, I’d rather enjoy the story and find something more useful to write to the editor about.