The Labyrinth

I just finished reading a disappointing book in which the labyrinth is merely a metaphor for political scheming.

My view of the labyrinth is different. Isn't a labyrinth at its most trivial and most profound a model for the brain? A character who enters a labyrinth must face dangers and overcome fear, but most importantly, the character must face himself, and emerge a changed person.

Toward the end of my mother's life, her memory failed. She had few topics to discuss, and I could predict at the start of each conversation where it would lead. I imagined the brain to be a city map, and a person could move from one place to another by walking, running, jumping or even flying. My mother's map became simple and the traveling slow and measured. Perhaps as her vision and her memory dimmed, she feared getting lost.