There is no world save the one we make with our minds, and the mind’s predisposition determines the type of world we see. A woman who lives in a tiny ranch house, obsessed with the fact that her grass is dying, goes to Versailles and is impressed, mostly, by the lawns. A dominated guy in a bad marriage goes to a play and can’t get over how much his wife is like Lady Macbeth. Such is life. No, really, says Gogol, such is life.
