What do you think about the idea that reading great literature (or really encountering any type of great art) occupies some kind of middle ground between these two poles?

Maybe nothing truly compared to personal, real life experiences—but maybe you can approximate that vicariously through literature?

Also, it seems to me like some books are deliberately painful—ie they make you work for the knowledge they contain, and as a result, you end up with a more experiential experience after reading…

I had an old Literature professor in college who used to say, all great literature tries to answer two questions:

1. What is the nature of reality?
2. How should a life be lived?

Interesting…