There appears to be an ordinally more miserable misery in fiction. On the one hand, dystopia summon terrible circumstances that no one wishes even upon their enemies. But these are external factors. To actually feel miserable, we must turn inward and experience deep melancholy that saddens and disappoints the now. No one but ourselves can destroy our hopes and joy. And we are utterly good at it.
I've been reading Jorge Luis Borges (Mutations was direct inspiration).