Books: A Thousand Pieces of You

A Thousand Pieces of You by Claudia Gray is a book about Marguerite, daughter of two scientists, who travels through multiple dimensions to avenge her father’s death.

By multiple dimensions, we mean parallel universes and there’s an infinity of them. There’s a universe where technology is advanced 50 years ahead, where you embarked on a different career choice, where you were never born, where Hitler won WWII, the list goes on and on. Every little crossroad for every individual, every factor that could’ve created a different life, a different world, is a different dimension and it’s all happening at the same time your dimension is running.

Interesting stuff, right? This post isn’t really a book review, because the most interesting idea I got from reading this book was about the existence of fate.

“There are patterns within the dimensions,” Paul insisted, never looking up again. “Mathematical parallels. It’s plausible to hypothesize that these patterns will be reflected in events and people in each dimension. That people who have met in one quantum reality will be likely to meet in another. Certain things that happen will happen over and over, in different ways, but more often than you could explain by chance alone.”

“In other words,” I said, “you’re trying to prove the existence of fate.”

The question that surfaces is this: does fate create these recurring patterns, or is it the recurring patterns that create fate?

In an infinite amount of dimensions, are my parents still together in most of them, or is it more common than not that they end up with someone else? Do I end up meeting the same people, regardless of growing up in a different city or a different world? Do I end up loving the same people? Do they end up loving me back? And if we see this happen again and again across different dimensions, does this mean we are fated to be together or that it was destined to happen?

It is both a sad and reassuring thought. Sometimes life just doesn’t work the way we want. We don’t end up with the people we thought we would. We don’t end up being the person we want to be. But who’s to say in a different dimension, that’s not the case?

“Fate” is such a romantic word. The idea that you’ll be in love with the same person in different dimensions elevates the concept of love transcending over time and space. But when we put it into mathematical patterns, it doesn’t seem so romantic anymore.

I would love to argue that fate is the one who creates these recurring patterns. I would love to think that it’s something magical – a connection of souls, perhaps, that tug at each other despite all the different variables to be closer to one another.

I don’t want to believe that fate is the result of mathematical recurrence, that the person we feel we can spend the rest of our lives with is only a result of a clashing of factors, a conveniently placed human individual.

But maybe it is like that. And fate doesn’t really exist. It only exists because we want it to so desperately.

Sincerely, Loewe

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To Loewe:

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