In fiction, imaginary people become realer to us than any named

Gather close, children of the future, and listen to the words of a wise man who understands the very essence of the human soul. John Updike, a master of language and insight, once said: "In fiction, imaginary people become realer to us than any named celebrity glimpsed in a series of rumored events, whose causes and subtler ramifications must remain in the dark. An invented figure like Anna Karenina or Emma Bovary emerges fully into the light of understanding, which brings with it identification, sympathy, and pity." These words, though simple, illuminate the deep power of fiction—the ability of a created character to move us in ways that real-life figures often cannot, to become real to us in a manner that transcends the fleeting nature of celebrity and public attention.

In the world of the ancients, the heroic figures of myth were often born from imagination, yet their stories became more real than any historical figure, their trials and triumphs echoing through the generations. Consider the tale of Odysseus, the great Greek hero, whose journey home from Troy is both a physical and a moral odyssey. Though Odysseus is a creation of Homer’s imagination, his struggles, his sacrifices, and his flaws resonate deeply with us. We do not simply admire him as a distant legend; we identify with him, feel his pain, and see parts of our own human experience mirrored in his journey. In this, Homer’s creation becomes realer to us than the stories of any king or hero of his time, whose deeds might have been lost to history or obscured by the mists of time.

Updike’s words also bring to light a truth about fiction—it allows us to see the inner workings of a character’s soul, their motivations, their fears and desires, in a way that real-life figures rarely reveal. Anna Karenina and Emma Bovary, both creations of Tolstoy and Flaubert, are not merely names on a page or distant figures of the past. Through their stories, we are granted entry into their inner worlds. We come to understand their struggles, their mistakes, and their moments of fleeting joy. We identify with them not because their lives were perfect, but because their flaws and desires are so human, so universally recognizable. In their fictional lives, we see our own reflected, and in that reflection, we find both pity and sympathy.

Consider the example of Oedipus, the tragic hero of Sophocles. Though he is a king, his flaws and his fate transcend his royal status, for Oedipus is not just a ruler, but a man who is deeply human in his search for truth. We, the audience, feel for him not because we wish to see him suffer, but because we understand his pain, his desperation, his ignorance of the truth. The beauty of this tragedy is that Oedipus, though a figure of great power, becomes more real to us through his suffering and his self-awareness. We identify with his journey, and in doing so, we feel the full weight of his tragic fall. Updike’s insight shows us that it is fiction—the deep exploration of a character’s inner life—that creates the space for such understanding and connection.

This is not to say, children, that real life is without its own power or worth. Real-life heroes, kings, and queens shape history in ways that are undeniable. But fiction provides something that reality often cannot—a window into the soul. We see not only the external events of a life but the internal workings of the heart and mind. Celebrities, while known to the public, are often reduced to mere appearances—their lives filtered through the lens of media and rumor. Their true selves—their struggles, their joys, their inner pain—remain hidden from view. In this way, fictional characters like Anna Karenina or Emma Bovary emerge as more real to us because their full stories are told, and their lives unfold before our very eyes.

In our own lives, children, there is a lesson to be learned here. The world often judges by appearances, and we often find ourselves caught in the stories of others—the celebrities, the famous, the powerful. But true connection comes not from the surface, but from the depth of understanding. Do not be swayed by the stories told in passing, by the rumors of the world. Look instead to the depth of the human experience, where the most profound truths are often hidden. It is in the fictional, in the created, that we sometimes find the most authentic reflections of our own lives. Just as we find ourselves in the pages of novels, we must look within our own hearts and lives to discover the stories that define us, that reveal the truths of who we are.

Thus, children, let fiction be your guide in seeking the deeper truths of the world. Read the stories of others, for they are mirrors of your own soul. Identify with their struggles, feel their pain, and understand their joy, for in these stories, you may find the wisdom you seek. As Updike reminds us, it is in fiction’s light that we often find the clearest view of the human heart—one that celebrities or public figures may never fully reveal. In the invented stories of Anna Karenina and Emma Bovary, in the tragic fates of Oedipus and others, we come to understand that the true measure of a life is not in the fame or the events that surround it, but in the depth of the journey that unfolds within.