“…with the waning of the nineteenth-century novel, the world lost its unity and its meaning. As we set out to write novels today, all we have at hand are fragments and more fragments. This can be a source of optimism: By ridding ourselves of hierarchies, we can embrace the whole world and all of culture and life. But it can also be cause for fear and confusion, prompting us to narrate less, to push the centers of our stories from the center to the margins. That it allows for new narrative possibilities and points of view is irrelevant. We cannot use the fragments we have to make that vertical journey to meaning, to the center; what we make instead is a horizontal journey. Instead of traveling to the world’s hidden depths, we explore its vastness. I enjoy going out in search of more fragments, in search of stories not yet told. This new continent of forgotten and heretofore unnamed stories, histories, peoples, and objects, of lands whose voices have yet to be heard, and stories yet to be told, is so vast, and so little explored, that the word ‘journey’ is entirely apt.
“But the journey that leads to the underlying meaning of the text still stands before us, and it demands individual effort. It is more personal than ever before, because we have neither a recipe nor a compass. The depth of a text resides in its complexity and its determination to address these fragments.”
— Orhan Pamuk