A Matter of Perspective

I love novels because they take me into someone else's experience of living.  Vicarious pleasure, of course, but more than that: writers provide the texture of others' lives so that for the length of the book (and sometimes long afterwards) I feel other.  (And, perhaps, smarter, given this provocative opinion piece from the New York Times.)

 What writer can take me inside the insect perspective?  I've read plenty and plenty of it has been fascinating and insightful, informative and moving.  But nothing I've read moves me like standing still, for half an hour perhaps, or sitting still, for an hour perhaps, and simply looking.

I see wonders and hear them and feel them in the air, and sometimes on me.  Then I begin to feel other.