From a newly discovered Literary Vocabulary by K. Wheeler:
WILLING SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF: Temporarily and willingly setting aside our beliefs about reality in order to enjoy the make-believe of a play, a poem, film, or a story. Perfectly intelligent readers can enjoy tall-tales about Pecos Bill roping a whirlwind, or vampires invading a small town in Maine, or frightening alternative histories in which Hitler wins World War II, without being “gullible” or “childish.” To do so, however, the audience members must set aside their sense of “what’s real” for the duration of the play, or the movie, or the book.
Samuel Coleridge coined the English phrase in Chapter 14 of Biographia Literaria to describe the way a reader is implicitly “asked” to set aside his notions of reality and accept the dramatic conventions of the theater and stage or other fictional work. Coleridge writes:
. . . My endeavours should be directed to persons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic; yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith (quoted in Cuddon, page 1044).
Coleridge may have been inspired by the French phrase, “cette belle suspension d’esprit de law sceptique” from François de La Mothe le Vayer, or by Ben Jonson’s writing where Jonson notes, “To many things a man should owe but a temporary belief, and suspension of his own judgment.” Cf. verisimilitude.
I like to think of “willing suspension of disbelief” as regression to a stage prior to a firm grasp of the distinction between reality and dreams/wishes/make-believe. That’s why it’s typically accompanied by all kinds of primary-process thinking (i.e. omnipotence of thoughts, grotesque condensations, etc.).
I think I see what you mean, I did not get it when you said it here., so you mean going back to an earlier stage of human consciousness?
Heh, that’s why I felt the deja vu–I really had said that before here! Yes, that’s what I mean. I keep meaning to devote a post to it at Groovy Age, but haven’t quite figured out how best to explain it.