A spontaneous exchange can quickly turn into a story on genuine emotions and revelations that literature can provide.

2nd – 3rd of July via WhatsApp Messages.

Asya (02.07.25 21:59) : R there any books that u read that changed the way u see the world I don’t mean indirectly, but more like books that discuss the social or emotional structures of the world that made u see people and experiences in a different way?

Marghe (02.07.25 22:17) : Oh my gosh that’s a great question. Let me collect my thoughts on this.

Marghe: (03.07.25 12:28) : Dude, I thought about your question a lot, and I came up with this list (I tried not to name some over-used classics like The Alchemist – it’s an amazing book, but I feel like it’s in every book rec)

Books that changed my life

🌿 Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Dascha gave me this book when I was completely lost in my last relationship. I was insecure, doubting myself, feeling stuck, wanting to leave but terrified of being on my own. This book urged me to trust my instinctual self: that wild, intuitive part of me that knows something is wrong long before I can rationalise it. It helped me see that my intuition isn’t reckless or immature; it’s ancient and wise.

🖤 Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I read this at 16, just starting to wrestle with why people do such horrific things. It shattered any naive illusions I had about civilisation being inherently moral. It showed me how thin that veneer really is — how easily power and fear strip people down to something primitive. It was the first book that forced me to confront the darkness we all carry inside.

🌀 Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu. I read this at 17, but under the weight of grief that I struggled to manage and understand after the death of the boy I was dating. I was fascinated by the fact that this text is older than the Bible, and totally mesmerised by its wisdom. As a European girl who grew up in a Christian society, it gave me a radically different way of seeing life: as something flowing, paradoxical, beyond rigid moral structures. I was struck by how Lao Tzu rejected the Confucian obsession with codes and instead embraced the mystery of the Tao. It taught me the power of non-forcing — to let things unfold without trying to control everything, even my own pain.

🎭 The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. This book echoed so much of what I found in Taoism, but in a more human, intimate key. It showed me that life is painfully light — our choices might carry no eternal weight, history can crush us or pass us by. Yet somehow that very fragility makes every tender moment, every choice to love or stay or leave, deeply meaningful. It taught me to hold both tragedy and joy without needing them to cancel each other out.

🔥 The Rebel by Albert Camus. Camus pushed me to question what it really means to stand against injustice. Is it even possible to revolt without becoming the thing you hate? This book made me wrestle with the limits of rebellion — how easily causes become corrupted — but also why, despite it all, we still must rebel. It shaped how I think about power, violence, and the complicated ethics of saying “no” to a world that often seems absurd.

Asya (03.07.25 13:02) : Omg girl, u have me a full essay. I was literally looking for names. But now i lowkey want to publish this on Mkh.

Marghe (03.07.25 13:04) : Aaah, of course! Since it’s a book rec, I felt like I needed to explain my choices a little bit. Of course, feel free to!

Asya (03.07.25 13:04) : omg yes

Marghe (03.07.25 13:07) : Obviously, I am very drawn to the topic of absurdity, as is evident by these choices – but I think it’s something most people would also relate to in one way or another.

We all grapple with the gap between what we long for and what life delivers, so absurdity is where our shared humanity lies: in how we still choose to love, rebel, or let go, even knowing it might all be fleeting or meaningless in the grand scheme.

I find it both unsettling and strangely comforting, kind of like a reminder that we’re all stumbling through the same paradox – and it makes me feel less alone.