Fiction within fiction within fiction...

I could not help myself and bought Stranger than Fiction on DVD. Apart from being an utterly loveable movie, it fascinates me because it tackles one of my favourite subjects in the world: fiction within fiction. A movie about a book. Of course, in Stranger than Fiction, the line between the two is extremely blurred or maybe even nonexistent.

Which might be the biggest reason why I like Inkheart by Cornelia Funke: a novel about a novel. About the escape of the "fictitious" characters into the "real world", and later about the people from the real world entering the fiction. Come to think of it, my childhood-favourite The Neverending Story (the book!) deals with a similar subject matter. And Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next novels, books about books.

It is the ultimate daydream. To enter a story, or to have the story's characters enter your own world. Or maybe consider that we are ourselves works of fiction. If I am part of a story, I am sure I am only one of those people who do not even get as much as a passing mentioning. I'm one of those whose existence is merely implied by sentences such as "the city's population had grown considerably over the years".