As Ursula K. Le Guin touches on in her introduction to The Left Hand of Darkness:
In reading a novel, any novel, we have to know perfectly well that the whole thing is nonsense, and then, while reading, believe every word of it. Finally, when we’re done with it, we may find – if it’s a good novel – that we’re a bit different from what we were before we read it, that we have changed a little, as if by having met a new face, crossed a street we never crossed before. But it’s very hard to say just what we learned, how we were changed.
Two pieces of fiction that have left me wondering lately have been Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway and Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry for the Future. Both capture a world from many different perspectives vastly different from my own.