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Proust’s view, we don’t really learn anything properly until there is a problem, until we are in pain, until something fails to go as we had hoped:
We cannot be taught wisdom, we have to discover it for ourselves by a journey which no one can undertake for us, an effort which no one can spare us.
‘Happiness is good for the body,’ Proust tells us, ‘but it is grief which develops the strengths of the mind.
too frequently, suffering fails to alchemize into ideas, and instead of affording us a better sense of reality pushes us into a baneful direction where we learn nothing new,
