Autumn 2026 – Laura Fabbri – “Going to my fate”

The following conversation between psychiatrist Carl Jung and literary critic Ariel B. Baruf, held at Utrecht University on 29 September 2026, is a work of fiction. All italicised sentences are direct quotes from Jung’s 1962 novel Memories, Dreams, Reflections.

Baruf: Doctor Jung, I wanted to thank you for being here today to talk about Elizabeth Strout’s new novel, The Things We Never Say.

Jung: Thank you for your invitation. I was pleasantly surprised when Strout asked me to use my words as the epigraph to her book.

B: It must’ve been such an honour.

J: Indeed. I am always fascinated by her reflections on the intricacies of human relationships against the backdrop of our erratic world. I also particularly admire her portrayal of the characters’ inner lives in the face of adversities. In my own life I early arrived at the insight that when no answer comes from within to the problems and complexities of life, they ultimately mean very little.

B: That’s a splendid insight. You seem to have a lot in common with Artie Dam, the protagonist—

J: Yes, we both seem to be rather conventional, middle-aged white men.

B: I meant to say he’s also a particularly introspective man.

J: I had that impression, too.

B: As an expert on the human psyche, I was wondering if you could help me get a better understanding of his loneliness.

J: Sure; tell me more about your impression of him.

B: Well, Artie’s a 57-year-old history teacher. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Evie. Early in the novel Artie feels “an accretion of loneliness.” He’s so lonely that he starts contemplating suicide. But, on the outside, his life seems fulfilling and full of love: his students write him letters about the positive impact he’s had on their lives; he regularly goes out to dinner with his confidante Flossie, a lifelong friend who encourages him to “stay jovial”; he’s beloved by the other teachers and his son Rob, although he recognises that they’ve grown apart after an accident that fractured their family. And because of this accident, Rob and Artie share a secret.

J: You mean the car crash Rob got in as a teenager with his then- girlfriend Heather?

B: Exactly. Rob was the only one who survived, and during a police interrogation, when he is asked if they were both wearing their seatbelts, he sneaks a glance at his father. Artie then understands that Heather was performing sexual acts on Rob. With the burden of this secret looming over them, Rob seems to grow more distant with time, and Artie worries about losing the important bond he had with his son. Yet, it is precisely another secret that fortifies their relationship down the line. Rob learns that Evie had an affair, and he reveals to Artie that he was born from this act of adultery. Instead of breaking down after the unsettling revelation, Artie realises he loves his son even more, with Rob feeling exactly the same way. So, what do you make of this? How could a man be so loved and feel so isolated at the same time?

J: Outward circumstances are no substitute for inner experience. Although Artie’s objective reality appears to contradict his private isolation, his inner life tells a different story. He wonders why nobody ever says anything real, and realises only too late that “living is a private matter.” This book is about secrets, and the things we purposefully keep within ourselves. Knowledge and feelings that cannot be shared become another form of isolation.

B: Artie seems to be exceptionally burdened, compared to the other characters, with the things he doesn’t intend to share. Not only does he carry Rob’s secrets, as well as his own, but he also has odd, premonitory dreams and sudden visions. He has a dream in which he’s drowning, then a week later he has a nearly fatal accident while sailing. He has a vision of a door closing, erasing the tiny strip of light that was left, a gloomy premonition for the future of the country and for his own deteriorating wellbeing. I know you’ve had similar experiences of precognition; can you tell me more about them?

J: Yes, I have experienced something similar to Artie. When I had these visions after my near-death experience — a heart attack that fortunately proved to be nonfatal — my life seemed to have been snipped out of a long chain of events, and many questions had remained unanswered. Why had it taken this course? Why had I brought these particular assumptions with me? What had I made of them? What will follow? I began to be preoccupied with my past and my future, much like Artie. In this precognitive state, I felt the expectation of a new beginning, but also disappointment for what was going to happen. I believe Artie went through something similar: he dreams of drowning, and the vividness of the dream brings about a feeling of awe that prevents him from falling asleep again. Perhaps he subconsciously felt that his dream would become reality.

B: It sounds like it was a rather bizarre and disturbing experience for you.

J: I found it rather blissful. And I put these experiences into words, unlike Artie, who represses them. I believe that Strout’s intention was to emphasise his individual experience of loneliness. He sees these evocative images that are both about him and those he loves, but they contribute to his private suffering.

B: In fact, in a recent interview with TIME, Strout revealed that she became “increasingly interested in the idea that not only do we not really understand other people, we probably don’t know who we are in reference to other people,” and that through reading “we could actually get inside the head of somebody else.” However, it seems that in this book she is precisely delineating how the characters don’t understand each other because they can’t get inside one another’s head. Their silences, their secrets, their inability to communicate, are what isolate them.

J: I dare say Artie would make an exceptional case study of the Everyman archetype, someone who values belonging and fears exclusion….

B: Strout also places the readers in a peculiar position: sometimes, the narrator descends from her omniscient position to disrupt the narrative flow and offers us a glimpse into the future of the characters. This is a testament to Strout’s clever narrative construction; there are tiny pieces of relevant information scattered throughout the entire novel, which all come together at its conclusion to create a new meaning.

J: Yes. There is a sense of inevitability to this. In a way, the readers’ foreknowledge of the story echoes Artie’s precognitive visions: both have a sense of what is going to happen, yet manipulating their fate through this knowledge is impossible.

B: I want to further explore this idea of fate, as Artie becomes preoccupied with the existence of free will. At a party, he asks one of the guests whether he believes free will is real, but his question remains unanswered. The same pattern reoccurs with each person Artie approaches on the matter: no one can offer a definitive answer, they all admit that they don’t know. The issue then takes on a decidedly existential character for Artie, who struggles — and inevitably fails — to arrive at an answer for himself. Why do you think Strout insists on bringing up this theme here?

J: I think it all ties back to Artie’s amiable facade and inward isolation. His inquisitiveness about free will is how he tries to get out of himself. He wants to find comfort in the possibility of choice, and tries to connect with others by bringing up a theme that feels personal to so many — freedom. Yet he sees a lack of connection reflected in the state of the world, particularly after the result of the 2024 presidential election in the United States. This increases his disillusionment towards the existence of free will.

B: I had a different read on that. To me, Artie’s musings about free will were an attempt to justify his inactive behaviour when facing any unpleasant situation. The choices he makes are carefully considered so that he can avoid taking any risks; he even sets aside his moral tenets to maintain his friendship with a man who’s a known Republican. And he feels his own free will slipping away. Midway through the story, he feels as if he’s been looking at life from one angle, then he feels as though “someone had turned him partly in a different direction,” projecting responsibility outside of himself.

J: But do you not think that Artie feels constricted, not so much by the circumstances he finds himself in, as by his incapacity to say what he means? He wonders why no one ever says anything real, yet he is the first to be encumbered by the truths he holds within himself.

B: That’s an intriguing suggestion. But ultimately, I think his lack of active choice and resolution — his indecision about coming forward to Evie with her secret, how he never truly says how he feels to those around him in the right moment — are what weigh on him the most.

J: I do not think he lacked resolution. I believe his reserved disposition was a deliberate decision. Through his silence he made sure not to burden the ones he cares about with upsetting knowledge. That is a selfless act of love.

B: That didn’t work out so well for him though, did it? He continuously renounced his own happiness for that of other people. And readers know well before the end of the book that Artie’s going to die shortly after. This insight into the future comes with a sense of dismay about what will happen. Artie realises that he’s “going to his fate,” and we can only be bystanders through his journey. Kind of a bittersweet moment for the reader, knowing that the main character’s going to have a disappointing, all –too real ending.

J: Well, I think that Strout seems to suggest that one’s enjoyment of life does not arise out of being consciously free. It is more about the small choices we make every day, the relationships we cherish, the invisible strings that attach us to one another, interwoven in a net of support that is often too easy to ignore.

B: I agree with you on that. In the end, the novel is not concerned with resolving major philosophical questions. Whether humans have or don’t have free will, it’s still worthwhile to perform good deeds and be good people. That’s what Artie did. He managed to positively impact the lives of the people around him, and in return he was dearly beloved for his kindness and reliability…This novel made me ponder the question of “What could have been?” What would’ve happened if Artie had revealed Rob’s secret? If he’d shared that he knew about Evie’s affair?

J: Then it would not have been Artie’s story.

B: While reading the book, I was worried that few readers would be able to resonate with him since he’s a white, middle-aged man from Massachusetts. After our discussion, I can see his allure. He’s what we could call a “modern hero”; a regular person trying to persevere through the distress of modern-day society, forging a place for himself in the world.

J: I am sure that lots of readers, like Artie, have a hard time coming to terms with our forlorn present … I hope his story will inspire more people to look both inward and outward. In this way we forge an ego that does not break down […]; an ego that endures, that endures the truth, and that is capable of coping with the world and with fate.

B: Doctor Jung, thank you for your brilliant considerations on the novel. As always, after reading Strout I’m left with many thoughts to sift through.

J: Thank you for having me.

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