The Last Samurai is not a book that tries to make sense of life. It is a book that seeks answers but knows that explanations are impossible—and to attempt to give them, as Sibylla does to many a nonplussed stranger, only leads to frustration. And in that moment, not knowing how to move on and no longer even knowing how to start to find out, I needed a text that met me where I was: at a point where it was painfully clear that books and stories are not enough. And yet, it was equally clear that their very insufficiencies—the moments at which they strain to meet our depths of confusion and
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