There is no easy or better way to describe Munich Airport except as an affront to life itself, challenging its readers to look beyond the comforts of living, and, if not enact Miriam’s ascetic brand of willfulness, then question the very meaning of existence.
That’s partly why I wrote the novel: how do you find that solitude and how to claim it? In some ways this city is very good for us—its rhythms dictate to you, it’s testing you, it causes you to adapt, improvise, stretch. But in other ways, especially if you’re interested in reading and writing, it can be a challenge and a little deranging.
So what I mean to say is that those whose minds are most in need of changing are precisely the ones that aren’t going to change their minds based on information, because bigotry is not a result of ignorance, as much as we like to think it is. Bigotry is a result of fear, and fear is impervious to data.