We all
have some identities that we do not identify ourselves with; this is just
normal, for a person can have a strong and stable sense of who he is only if
there are not too many things that he thinks he is, that he thinks define who
he is. It would not be a problem if a person alienates himself from some, or
even many, of his identities, but it would be a serious problem if he alienates
himself from all of his identities.
When a person has no identities that he identifies himself with, he is
alienating himself from his whole biographical life. In that case, he is indeed
alienating himself from himself, for some of his identities must define who he
is in order for him to be the person who is living the biographical life that he
is living, to be the I who would own
the first-person version of his biography, i.e., his autobiography. As Camus so
vividly and penetratingly portrays it in L’Étranger,* the life of a person who alienates himself not
only from the world around him, but also from himself, is a meaningless life to
the person himself.
* “Étranger”
in French means either "foreigner", "outsider", or "stranger". Some English
translations use the title The Stranger,
some the title The Outsider. The
protagonist Meursault is a stranger, a foreigner, or an outsider not only to people
around him, but also to himself.
Been following your blogs intermittently for a while. As one without a clear identity I quite enjoyed this particular post. A serious problem indeed. Thank you for the book recommendation, The Stranger is an interesting read.
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