Saturday, October 31, 2015

Closeness and Kane

I know that in my last post I promised my next post would be about St. Petersburg. Sorry, that's not the case. StP is great; that's all you need to know. June is an excellent time to visit.

I watched Citizen Kane for the first time a few weeks ago. There's a scene in which Susan, Charles Foster Kane's second wife, accuses Kane of never actually loving anyone, only appearing to love them so that they'll love him back. She accuses him of giving things that are easy for him to give but carry great value to others, with the intent of receiving from them undying gratitude, esteem, and affection in return. She asserts that he is the opposite of what he pretends, and is purported, to be.

This exchange caused me a great deal of consternation as I reflected on my own life. Have I ever really given of myself more than I expected to get in return? More important, have I ever given anything that was hard to give? Or have I always arranged things such that I'm giving a smaller fraction of my whole self than is the other party, so that I'm more in a position of power, and less in a position of vulnerability? And if this is so, can the arrangement truly be called altruism, friendship, love--or is it closer to selfishness, misanthropy, cynicism? If it's the latter, could the behavior have any explanation other than fear?

Ever since a couple early and serious relationships, I have maintained a longstanding aversion to sharing too much of myself with any one person. I'll share almost everything with everyone in aggregate--a piece here, a piece there--but never everything with one person. I suppose this is because I prefer to feel that no single person knows me too well--I certainly wouldn't want him to know me better than I know myself! But why this fear? Am I worried he or she will point out my inconsistencies and hypocrisy?... Should I not be more concerned about actually being inconsistent, or a hypocrite, than I am about knowing it, or others knowing it?

There is shame in being exposed as a hypocrite, but he who isn't fully known to others can never be exposed by them. He can deny being a hypocrite in the face of accusations, and no one can claim to know better.

Must I feel that by sharing a piece of myself with another, my ownership of that piece is lessened? Is it the case that my "I"--my identity, who I am--is limited to only what I have retained for myself and denied others? Or can a person share everything, have no secrets at all, and still retain his sense of who he is, and not end up a mishmash of what others say he is?

Perhaps what I really fear is for someone to believe he knows me, to say and be convinced of such a thing, as this belief presupposes I am a quantity to be known: a discrete, static, knowable entity. And I can think of nothing more frightening than being such a thing, as such a thing means ceasing to grow and change.