Some say Don Quixote is the greatest novel ever written. Some say War and Peace, followed by Ulysses, Remembrance of Things Past, Brothers Karamazov, and I could go on and on, but regardless of what your opinion is, they all deal with perception, memory, and expectations. For example, in Don Quixote it’s illusion versus reality.
Which leads me to the question: how much bearing do our fantasies have on our lives for good or bad? For example right now we are actually staying in a real castle where our entire living quarters are above a stream (see included pictures) – all of which has been my younger daughter Ali’s fantasy and of running around the Highlands like some character out of a Sir Walter Scott novel, while my older daughter, Lisette’s fantasy was of a more sedate nature – like drinking tea with Jane Austen discussing Emma, the character with whom she most identifies with – all of which she was able to accomplish to her satisfaction in Cotswold a few days earlier. Okay, granted they’re all fantasies, but was I any different growing up when I wanted to be an Indian? And later of course went out to live with them? And then in turn even later wrote a novel about the experience? Only to segue off to many other themes using that as a springboard? Because sometimes our fantasies come closer to our real desires than the “processed” canned goals that are merely a product of other people’s expectations of us.
And if nothing else, at least it’s an investment in the memory bank where hopefully later on in life each of us will cherish our own memories: Ali returning to her roots, Lisette having a greater appreciation for Jane Austen – and me? The joy of seeing their trip of a lifetime become a reality.
To be continued