It wasn’t until I read Fyodor Dostoevsky’s “Notes From the Underground” that I realized what I was looking for couldn’t be found in nonfiction - that illuminating the human condition can’t be done once and for all, definitively and conclusively.
While I never found these answers, I always assumed this was because I hadn’t yet found the right author, or the right book, and that when I did, everything would click.
I turned to philosophy and history, believing that they would offer me the answers I wanted. I demanded something more concrete and definitive. And I thought that this point of orientation couldn’t be found in fiction. I remember feeling that I was lost and that I needed grounding - a point of orientation around which my life would start to make sense, around which I could make my decisions. I didn’t read much fiction in high school.
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