Talking about this (see below) with a friend of mine, a native Californian, who asked me what exactly it was I liked about the east coast. I thought and thought but one thing that occurred to me was that in literature, c.f. the Magician King, after the hero has gone off and done whatever and learned whatever, what matters is that she goes back home. It ends when she goes back home, having learned whatever it is that had to be learned.
I think that’s what it is — it seems that whatever it is that I’ve learned here on the west coast won’t mean anything until I take it back home, which for me is somewhere on the eastern seaboard. (Of course, home does not have to be literal — I realize that.)
But what is maybe even more interesting is how often, when I’m thinking about some perplexing question life has presented me with, literature provides me with a model, or a way of thinking, or an answer.