dominic wrote:

>The self is an abstract base class, which is to say that all - or at least
>many - of its functions are virtual. Derived classes inherit, extend and
>override the methods and properties of the self. Instantiations of these
>classes are known as objects. Their data is encapsulated, although friend
>functions may have access to some data members. Multiple inheritance
>complicates matters significantly; and one must always be wary of namespace
>conflicts. I could go on, but I think I've conveyed the gist...
>
>Dom

Oh man of superior order...

anyhow, to connect to  the above quote and to Martin's observations about
the "Self" , to put it down in a bare fashion, the self can be regarded as
a narrative (selves are narratives).


If it were possible for me to view my supposed  "self" from a critical
distance, I would comment my conduct by saying : "in her particular case,
she is her father's text.  She is his character (good or bad that is)."

This, of course, may sound terribly anti-pychological and anti-enigmatic.
And it is.

I view the complexities within the behavioural system of such a given
character as over-determined (by one or many forces, or to use Dominique's
terminology, inheritances). One could argue: "All your life, say
your "self" belonges to an identity which bears your name and history."
True, but my name was imposed on me and  my history is determined by pre-
conditional coordinates which transcende or impede  my power of action.

In my case, the general perception or view I have of this self is that the
possible nuances to occurr in its formative  process are so pre-established
as to prevent dramatic splits and dissociations, say dramatic fields of
incoherence. The impression of solidity I sense in this character of mine
is therefore due to the solidity which my father was able to create, as
though shaping a concrete figure). This could be regarded both as a quality
or as a vice , according to literary tastes.

His style of narrative was so consistent that  - poor me - I do not even
have the basic impulse to be or try to become different and I do not have
the minimal undertsanding of how to evolve. Meaning the story was told,
that's it! written down, decided once and for ever. The "subconscious" of
this "self" is what my brain doesn't allow me to tell about this character
I was given in the day time.


Sub-consciousness is therefore a folder containing sub-narratives. My sub-
narratives are very disciplined ones. I very very rarely have bad dreams
and the life of this self keeps running equal to itself even in dreams.
The principle of reality of this given self is in close contact with the
principle of reality of my author who I considers responsible of all that
happens to me, even now that he is dead.

In a way, I can see my "self" in a rather objectifying fashion, in its
participation to a shared reality of many narratives. The narrative of the
human endeavour in its randomness.
I now sit and revise the chapter in which my daughter meets a Greek prince
and they marry on a far island of sun and harmony........

(she does not think her life is my narrative, what a pity! and she rebels
against the beuatiful plots I am making up for her future happiness....


Erminia