I enrolled in this course for two particular reasons: it was being offered by one of my favorite professors, and to fulfill my writing requirements for the core curriculum. Reflecting on my journey so far, the course has helped me deepen my understanding of the definition of a good life in ways that I had not imagined.
The course began with asking us a simple question, “What is a good life to me?” and I replied, “Writing.” However, over the course of this semester, and by engaging with the course material and lectures, I have shifted my mind. I previously wrote, “the bond we develop with our passions or intellectual pursuits” (Hasan*Hasan, Sazid. “Reflection on ‘What Makes a Good Life?’” Georgetown University in Qatar, Canvas. Accessed 2 May 2026.) is a good life to me. In saying so, I made my idea of a good life all about me – a narcissistic way to define happiness in life. Now I think our good life is predominantly dependent not only on our own passions and interests but also on how the people around us engage with us, care for us, and love us. Our own life experiences are a shared experience, where we bond with each other over values and morals. Thus, a good life cannot be attained without appreciating people and acknowledging everyone's contributions.
I think out of all the reading materials, “The Death of Ivan Ilyich” helped me build my stance on a good life the most. In the book Ivan Ilyich wanders in deep thought about whether he has lived life as he should. He only finds peace with his servant Gerasim, as he says, “Only Gerasim recognized it and pitied him” (Tolstoy 35*Tolstoy, Leo. The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Random House Publishing Group, 2004. ). If everyone in his life were like Gerasim, then would his life not have been changed? If our existence and good actions are being recognized by people close to us, then we get a sense of happiness. From a materialistic point of view, Ivan Ilyich had everything in his life – a reputable job, a roof over his head, friends, and family. Though in the class we had a long discussion on “who decides these are materialistic?” in Ivan Ilyich’s life, it was his despondency, “Can it be that I have not lived as one ought?” that signals it was all a hoax, hollow and empty. It is only when he met Gerasim that he contemplated the true essence of life. So, even Ivan Ilyich's profound realization of the meaning of life is not entirely his. Because like Ivan Ilyich, we all live in an entirely meaningless world that invites us to paint the canvas, and the best colors come within us if we are with people who care for our canvas.
The unexpected course of the semester further helped me strengthen my position. I found myself in the toughest of times, worried, tensed, and worn out, being in the middle of conflict zones – Iran and Israel, USA War (Moench*Moench, Mallory. “Why Did US and Israel Attack Iran and How Long Could the War Last?” https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cx2dyz6p3weo. Accessed 2 May 2026. ). Yet, even in those moments of doubt and exhaustion, there was still laughter in my room when I was with my friends. Looking back, that contrast reveals something that I never anticipated. As a line from the magical land of Hogwarts puts it, “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light” (Rowling*Rowling, J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Scholastic, 1999. ). In my experience, that “light” during the time of this conflict is perspective – the point of view that enables us to see beauty even in these times through our connection, humor, while everything else felt overwhelming and destructive. As Wallace Stevens sketches in Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, “The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. / It was a small part of the pantomime,” it constantly reminds us that everything depends on what we notice and how we frame it (Stevens*Stevens, Wallace. “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.” The Poetry Foundation, 8 Jan. 2020, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45236/thirteen-ways-of-looking-at-a-blackbird. ). During the conflict, nothing changed on the battlefield when my friends were with me, but my angst was out of sight. It is the willingness of others to stay close and care that mostly governs our sense of well-being and ultimately defines for us what a good life truly is.
Guy de Maupassant’s “The Necklace” ironically unfolds the idea of a good life, the one with others, not self-centered (Maupassant*Maupassant, Guy de. “The Necklace.” American Literature, https://americanliterature.com/author/guy-de-maupassant/short-story/the-necklace. Accessed 2 May 2026. ). In the short story, Mathilde Loisel is entirely consumed by what she does not have – wealth and status; her obsession with material wealth blinded her to recognizing what she already had: a husband who genuinely loved and cared for her. She spent a decade of her life scraping together money to buy a lost necklace, while the necklace was fake all along. What we ignore is that the value of both real and fake necklaces is all the same – both are meaningless if it disconnects us. Maupassant stresses this idea: “How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!” (Maupassant*Maupassant, Guy de. “The Necklace.” American Literature, https://americanliterature.com/author/guy-de-maupassant/short-story/the-necklace. Accessed 2 May 2026. ), and in Mathilde’s life, the small thing, probably, was not the small necklace but her inability to see through and appreciate love. The short story is one of the reasons I shifted my definition from my initial idea of a good life, because earlier, I would have defended Mathilde's choices – after all, who am I to say that someone's passion for beauty and status cannot be their version of a good life? But the story answers that question for us: can a life built on mere mundane appearances, at the cost of true human connection and love, be a life at all? A good life is built brick by brick through the people who stay with us and listen to our stories – and our willingness to reciprocate the same in return.
While the assignment required me not to contradict my thesis, I must be honest about where my thesis falls short. Reading Tadeusz Borowski's short stories like This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen, and Silence, a greater and harsher truth confronted me beyond Ilyich's misery or Mathilde’s blindness. The concentration camp victims may not lack perspective or their appreciation for people in their lives; however, the scale of horror they endured dissolves all this search for a good life. I have thought deeply about what a good life would mean to them. While I could have searched for statistics that might show how survivors felt after a decade leaving the concentration camp, I am more interested in understanding what a good life would mean to them in that present situation. The prisoners in Borowski’s short story Silence dragged the man whom they accused of being involved with the concentration camp into a dark alley, “panting with hate” (Borowski*Borowski, Tadeusz. "Silence." This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen, translated by Barbara Vedder, Penguin Books, 1976.). I believe these people were pushed far into the dungeon of brutality that they were beyond ordinary human experience. I still wonder: what would a good life mean to them?
I began the semester with “writing” being my definition of good life, but engaging with the classes, coursework, and war experience, I have come to discover meaning more deeply. A far more accurate definition of a good life can be found in John Donne’s For Whom the Bell Tolls:
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main […]
I am involved in mankind. (Donne*Donne, John. "Meditation XVII." Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, 1624. )
But I must be honest about the extent of this thesis. It works – it even sounds beautiful – when we have the luxury to think, when we can close our eyes at night without wondering where our next meal comes from, or if our roof will hold the storm, or our bodies will be healthy enough to carry us through tomorrow. In Borowski's stories, the survivors had no such luxury; my thesis cannot fit them; for them, even the question of a good life is a cruelty, because of the extent of harm that was done to them. But for those of us given the rare privilege of safety, of hands that are awaiting to be held, I think a good life is not something we find alone. It is something we build together through appreciation and love for each other.
