By 
For Western literature, the concept of individuality is a remarkably recent innovation. It goes without saying that the classics feature many remarkable individual characters, but they are only remarkable in their ability to meet and exceed the highest expectations of their roles in society. (Just think of Beowulf playing the ultimate male role as warrior, provider, and peacemaker.) This is why so many ancient stories end in weddings, which are basically a rite of passage to turn individuals into a group unit.
To illustrate a point, let’s look at the protagonists of Village Y Kill a Mockingbird. In the former, Prince Hamlet’s nonconformity turns the play into a tragedy, while in the latter, Scout’s development into an independent thinker turns the novel into a bildungsroman.
Hamlet is brooding, passive aggressive, deceitful, and utterly uncompromising. Even if you love him for it, these aren’t exactly princely qualities. At a time when he (and the rest of the kingdom) are expected to outdo the old king and befriend the new one, all Hamlet can do is cry. He is even visually distinguished from his peers by wearing dark mourning clothes.
When the ghost of Hamlet Sr. informs Hamlet Jr. that his death was murder, and fratricide, Hamlet proceeds to… do nothing about it. For four acts. If this seems unthinkably passive to you, imagine how unacceptable it would have been in the days when sword fighting was the way to settle scores. To make matters worse, Hamlet is painfully aware of his inaction; for example, when he sees a soldier marching off to fight for something that doesn’t even concern him, Hamlet despairs at his failure not only as a man, but also as a prince and son.
As if he wasn’t isolated enough to begin with, Hamlet further distinguishes himself from the royal court by feigning madness. He takes on the role of the lunatic outcast with such dedication that even after accidentally killing his girlfriend’s father, knowing full well what he WILL do for his relationship, he pretends he doesn’t give a fuck.
Of course, Hamlet finally fulfills his obligation as a son by murdering his uncle, but only after he has already been fatally poisoned by Laertes’s sword. The change in Hamlet’s inertia is also the moment of his destruction, symbolically representing the sacrifice of individuality at the altar of the whole. (In case Shakespeare didn’t get that, he also has Ophelia commit suicide after losing her mind.)
If this isn’t your idea of a tonic, you’ll be happy to direct your attention to the 20th century thought of To Kill a Mockingbird. According to Harper Lee’s characterization of Scout Finch, becoming an individual is the truer way to become a functioning member of adult society.
While Scout has a very strong personality (not to mention the notable advantage of being Atticus Finch’s daughter), she doesn’t start out as an especially strong character. Much of her harshness in dusting off her knuckles is simply learned behavior from spending too much time with an older brother. Also, despite being (relatively) culturally enlightened, Scout drops the n-bomb as easily as the next bigot and she expresses her utter astonishment at the realization that her black caretaker has a life, a family, and a life. her own community.
Of course, without her eventual foray into the world of thoughts and feelings of nonconformity, Scout wouldn’t make much of a leading lady. As she matures, she learns to be more “girly,” not because her aunt thinks she is socially appropriate, but because she no longer feels the need to react to a female stereotype by modeling herself as the older brother. her. (After all, whether she’s working against him or adhering to him, letting popular opinion dictate her behavior shows a lack of independent thought.)
When Atticus agrees to defend Tom Robinson in court, Scout witnesses the insanity of the mob mentality firsthand, as faceless and nameless men try to ambush her father in the night. On an even larger scale, witnessing the blatant injustice of Tom Robinson’s conviction (and subsequent murder) opens Scout’s eyes to the blinding power of groupthink.
Scout’s development as an independent thinker is reflected in Boo Radley’s subplot, in which she learns to substitute her own unique experience for the local legend. For Scout, and for us lucky 21st century people, coming of age means becoming oneself.