Several things have lead me back to this quote from Jung. For one I have been studying heavily Michelangelo, and in particular his designs of masks. Another is from discussions I have been having with an old friend in prison, in particular our discussions about "the masquerade of the gods" (namely that all gods are the same no matter the culture or religion, they just wear different masks). And the final is simply my continued interest in how we define ourselves, how we are defined by others, and our perceptions of ourselves and our realities influence our supposed identities. All these circle around a sort of Heideggerian studies of ontology and the essence of being. But suddenly I found myself back to masks and masking, and I've been floating these ideas around for sometime, so now it's time for me to share them.
True, whoever looks into the mirror of the water will see first of all his own face. Whoever goes to himself risks a confrontation with himself. The mirror does not flatter, it faithfully shows whatever looks into it; namely, the face we never show to the world because we cover it with the persona, the mask of the actor. But the mirror lies behind the mask and shows the true face.
~Carl Jung, Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
The Greek word for mask is persona ("he/she is just a completely different person today!"), and in a sense this reflects heavily on how we perceive ourselves and each other. To the Greeks the whole world, especially the city, is a stage set, and we are the actors. Hence why Jung says "...the persona, the mask of the actor." We do it everyday. We wake up and put on a persona while we make breakfast. Then we put on a new persona while commuting to work. Then a whole new mask we wear for our co-works, and an entirely different one when we face our boss. Then another when we talk with our significant others, or our children, or with the cute girl who works behind the counter at the deli we frequent. And all these people wear masks too that is appropriate to the stage set they're on. All the world is a theater, and we are the actors.
But if we always wear a mask in some situation, is there not some time, some moment when we are not wear a mask at all? Most, I suppose, would say yes, because we all think there is a time (probably when we are alone) when we are truly ourselves, and we don't have to wear a mask. This may seem plausible, but one cannot deny that - if the whole world is stage - that there no place that is not a stage of some sort? If we are always one stage, even if the theater is empty, are we not still acting? There may not be an audience in the theater at the time, but there is always a stage set waiting for actors and an audience. It's a bit like Fra Carnavale's painting of an ideal Renaissance city, in which there are no people. It is a stage that waits for actors and an audience.
Jung's quote, in some regard, approaches the answer to this abstract idea of a "true face." He is discussing Narcissus at the pool. It was foretold by Tiresias that Narcissus would never die so long as he never got to know himself. And it is beside the pool where he saw and fell in love with his own beautiful image that Narcissus commits suicide. It seems that by reflection (figuratively, of course) that we come to know ourselves. Jung claims that the mirror can only reflect faithfully what it is shown. The mirror cannot lie, and does not conceal, but only reveals the true image of things. Jung sees that if we only show the mirror a mask, then it can only show us a mask back. So where is the true image of things if only masks are presented to the mirror? I suppose a more succinct way of putting the question is: where is the truth when we only present lies?
Jung's solution is that the faithful mirror is behind every mask. At first I did not grasp this part, but now I believe I have a better grasp of what Jung is getting at. He is saying that all lies conceal the truth. In essence, behind every lie, behind every mask, is the face of truth. Think of it this way: the mask may be concealing the face of the actor, but the mask does fit the face of its actor. A mask does present one face to the world, but on the other side of the mask is a perfect fit, a mold of the the actor's face. So not only do we wear our personas, our personas fit us. It's not just a lie, it's a lie that fits the truth. In some way I think Pablo Picasso's quote is relevant here: "Art is the lie that tells the truth."
I had a professor some time ago who I discussed these ideas with, and he proposed a very interesting question for this problem. In short, he said that it may not be about the masks at all, and that there might not be no true face of an actor, but rather that it is all masking. This proposes something entirely different. No longer are we dealing with which mask is being worn, and if there is a face underneath it at all. Now we are faced with actions (masking, or making and wearing mask), not objects (the faces themselves). This returns us to the problem of there always being a stage set somewhere. If we are always on stage, regardless of the presence of an audience, are we not always acting? Are we not always masking?
This identity crisis, this masquerade, is similar, if not identical, to Thomas Mann's "well of the past" or Abbe Laugier's "abyss of the imagination." In both the well is so deep that no matter how much we plumb its depths it seems to just get deeper ("should we not call it bottomless?"). Might the same be thought of the personas we wear if all of life is just a series of masking? Perhaps there is a true face beneath the maskings, but it is unfathomable, unplumbable. Would it not be something unrecognizable? Like Plato's cave, would we not reject the objects that casts the shadows on the wall? Would we not reject the true face of any actor? Can we even imagine the true face of anyone? Perhaps it would be more comforting to go back to the idea of there being no true face at all, but only a successive series of maskings. At least with the question of masking we are not faced with the scary possibility of the truth, but rather the nature of the infinite number concealments. (I wonder what is more terrifying: the truth or the infinite?)
I believe Nietzsche's infamous quote has a corollary here in the spirit of Jung's suggestion that the mirror is behind the mask, and the well of the masks is bottomless: "...when you stare long into the abyss, the abyss stares into you." Are we not the monsters we face? Are we not the lies we wear? Especially since the masks fit us all so well. Or do we become our masks? Does the truth become the lie that covers it? Or is the lie only a reflection of the truth? Is the lie a truth? (There is a difference between what is "truth" and what is "true").
Are we the lie we wear? or a reflection of the lie we wear? Is the lie a reflection of ourselves? Or is the reflection of ourselves a lie? Are we a lie? Are we all masks and no faces? You may, perhaps, understand why I believe the entire history of the human race has been one big identity crisis. Or maybe I just have an identity crisis.
"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth."
~Oscar Wilde
No comments:
Post a Comment