4,5 ⭐️

“If for others I wasn't what I had believed myself to be until then, who was I?”

This philosophical book, which was first published in 1926, was penned by the Italian novelist Luigi Pirandello (1867 - 1936). Pirandello, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1934 “for his bold and ingenious revival of dramatic and scenic art.”

The story revolves around a man named Vitangelo Moscarda. One day, his wife tells him that his nose leans to the right. Moscarda had never noticed this before as he firmly believed his nose was straight. This self-image seems to be what “one” implies in the title. However, his wife's comment makes him realize that his perception of himself might not be accurate, which is represented by the “no one” in the title. Finally, in the story, Moscarda comes to understand that many people may have their own perceptions of him, such as the son of a usurer who once owned a bank, as indicated by the “one hundred thousand” in the title.

Pirandello's favorite theme of the relativity of perception and the fragmentation of reality into incomprehensible pieces forms the philosophical core of this work. Closely related to it is the reflection on language and the impossibility of achieving objective and satisfactory communication between speakers. This is because we all assign our own meanings to words. As Moscarda becomes obsessed with the painful realization that he is only what others make of him, he attempts to subvert others' reality by reinventing himself as a new and different Moscarda. But his effort to possess his own self proves to be in vain, and his only escape route is self-denial, beginning with a refusal to look at mirrors.

Overall, this is a fine philosophical book. However, at times it can be rather dull as the plot is quite thin and the characters seem to be like distant figures that no one can easily identify with.

A profound philosophical story that doesn't suit the roles of the cold summer for the time being

I didn't know myself at all. I didn't have any specific perception about the truth of myself. I was in a state of continuous delusion. I pretended to be suitable, normal. Others knew me, each in their own way, according to the truth they fabricated for me.. "

How do we look at ourselves and define ourselves?! And how do others look at us and define us?

The question of self-identity is a complex and profound one. We often struggle to understand who we truly are. Sometimes, we may project a certain image of ourselves to the world, while deep inside, we may have a different perception of ourselves. As the text mentions, the author felt a sense of delusion and pretended to be something he wasn't. This shows that our self-perception can be influenced by various factors, such as society, culture, and the expectations of others. On the other hand, how others define us can also have a significant impact on our self-identity. We may try to live up to the expectations of others or rebel against them. In conclusion, understanding ourselves and how others perceive us is an ongoing process that requires self-reflection and an open mind.

At the beginning, I struggled. I couldn't understand how to read the story of Moscarda. I still remember the enthusiasm that overwhelmed me when reading "Il fu Mattia Pascal", and the effort I made at the beginning of reading risked deceiving me. It doesn't want to be an easy story, nor a terrible story. It is a story in which the reader, step by step with the protagonist, acquires self-awareness and awareness of others. It is difficult to remain impassive in the face of the insurmountable solitude of Moscarda, and it is difficult not to think about when others reveal things about us that we have never seen or thought. The actuality of Pirandello after a century is incredible.

The state of lucidity it leaves you in is sometimes oppressive.

My son asked me what I was reading and for a second I did not know how to answer. I only said:

- One, no one, and one hundred thousand.

- What do you mean?

- Well you're one, right?

- Yes.

- And for me you are my son, to Anna you're her biggest brother, to grandmother you are her grandson, for the teacher you are "Peter, that boy who disturbs the class", to Victor you are his friend, for each person you're someone-else.

- (smiling) Yes.

- But for you? Who are you to you? None of those, right? Each sees you in his own way which is different from how you see yourself. And so you are one, you are a hundred thousand of you to a hundred thousand people and none of those hundred of thousands of you is not you, the one you know you are.

- (Laughing) See that if you explain, I understand?

This simple conversation between my son and me made me realize a profound truth. We are all unique individuals, yet our identities are constantly being defined and redefined by those around us. We play different roles in different people's lives, and these roles can sometimes overshadow our true selves. It is important to remember that while we may be many things to many people, we are ultimately one person - the person we know ourselves to be. We should not let the opinions and perceptions of others define us, but rather strive to stay true to our own values and beliefs. This way, we can live a more authentic and fulfilling life.

L'eternità s'è sprofondata per me. It's not just within these five years, but rather in every passing moment. The world in which I lived then seems to be farther away than the most distant star in the sky. ✨

Each second feels like an eternity, filled with a sense of longing and nostalgia. The memories of that past world linger, yet it is now unreachable. It's as if a vast chasm has opened up between the present and the then. The people, the places, the experiences - all of it is now a part of a distant past that I can only look back on with a mixture of sadness and wonder.

I find myself constantly reflecting on that time, trying to make sense of how it all slipped away so quickly. But perhaps that's the nature of eternity - it's both infinite and fleeting, existing in the blink of an eye and yet lasting forever in our hearts and minds. ✨

On page 10, it was already full.

This simple statement holds a certain significance. It implies that there was a limit or a boundary that had been reached. Perhaps it was a page in a book, a document, or a website. The fact that it was full suggests that there was no more space available for additional content.

It could also symbolize a point of completion or saturation. Maybe all the necessary information or elements had been included, and there was nothing more to add. This could lead to a sense of satisfaction or a feeling that the task at hand had been accomplished.

However, it could also raise questions. What would happen next? Would a new page be needed? Or would some of the existing content need to be removed or revised to make room for something else? The fullness of page 10 thus presents both a moment of closure and an opportunity for new possibilities.

"Her gerçeklik bir aldanmadır aslında."

This is a very interesting awareness and inner reckoning event that we witnessed! "Each of us is trying to make others accept the world within us as if it were the outer world. We insist that others must see it in the way we know it, and claim that they cannot exist if they do not do so."

It is truly astonishing how we often project our internal perspectives onto others and expect them to conform. We become so attached to our own versions of reality that we fail to recognize the subjectivity of it all.

This phenomenon can lead to misunderstandings, conflicts, and a lack of empathy. We need to be more open-minded and understand that everyone has their own unique perception of the world.

E-kitap #6

Hmmmm,

this might have been a book that I could have loved if I had read it a few years ago. But at this time, our stars didn't align. My heart felt heavy and my spirit was constricted.

If this book were a person, I would lean into their ear and whisper, "I am very familiar with what they are saying, and frankly, I think similar things and I am also going through such constrictions. But if you want to surprise me in a literary sense, you must try different things."

It's a pity that this book didn't manage to capture my attention fully at this moment. Maybe in the future, when the circumstances are different, I might give it another chance and discover its hidden gems.

[1988]
Starting from a very interesting observation, that is, we are different for any person who is close to us, Pirandello constructs a story of a man who tries to destroy the images that others have of him and is believed to be crazy. Perhaps the dimension of the novel is too broad for this narration, which risks becoming boring with too many repetitions.

However, Pirandello still manages to maintain the rhythm until the end. He skillfully weaves together the various elements of the story, creating a complex and engaging narrative. The character's struggle to break free from the constraints of others' perceptions is both relatable and thought-provoking.

Despite the potential drawbacks of the novel's structure, Pirandello's masterful storytelling keeps the reader hooked until the very last page. His exploration of the theme of identity and how it is shaped by others is a timeless one, and continues to resonate with readers today.

In conclusion, while "1988" may not be a perfect novel, it is still a remarkable work that showcases Pirandello's unique talent as a writer.

Moscarda's life took a sudden and drastic turn when his wife nonchalantly pointed out his tilted nose, something he had never noticed before.

As he gazed into the mirror, all the imperfections on his face seemed to be magnified, causing him to panic.

He began to question if this was indeed how people saw him and if his body truly resembled the real him.

Seeking solitude, the protagonist aimed to figure out which version of himself was the true one: the self he saw or the countless selves that others perceived in him, or perhaps neither.

It was then that he looked in the mirror and let out his first laugh as a madman.

This genius idea by Luigi Pirandello is highly philosophical and existential, appealing to my taste.

However, despite the positive aspects mentioned above, the novel's elements were rather weak.

While I understand the focus on the main theme, a more thoughtfully constructed plot would have better unified the ideas and kept the reader in anticipation.

Moreover, there was over-excessive repetition.

The book started promisingly, but before reaching the halfway point, it became evident that the author was going in circles around the same topic without presenting any new insights, events, or themes, which was disappointing.

Confused, I debated whether to give it a 3 or 4 stars.

Ultimately, I decided on 4 stars for the memorable topic that will likely stay with me for a long time.

A friend asked me if the book had changed my perception of myself and what my current perception was.

They also inquired whether we are defined by how we view ourselves or through the eyes of others, or neither.

I replied that the book was brilliant but did not change my perception.

Honestly, this is my area of interest, and I have read numerous books on existential philosophy, psychotherapy, and psychoanalysis, which allowed me to form a view before reading this book.

The question touches on two major areas: identity and existentialism.

Regarding identity, I believe it is a combination of both inward and outward factors, perhaps 70% inward and 30% outward.

Identity reflects a set of facts and experiences, and it is shaped by both our inner thoughts and beliefs and how others perceive us.

I say 70% inward because identity is a subjective thing, and even if our self-perception is inaccurate, our identity still aligns with it.

This topic reminds me of a quote by Saramo in Blindness: "inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we really are."

As for existentialism, if one believes that life is absurd and is skeptical about our existence or reality, then all the above reasoning becomes irrelevant.

Personally, I think that we think, therefore we THINK we are.

It's all an illusion, and we could be a projection of a hologram or inside a matrix.

The only thing we can do is play the game of life, just like a soldier in a virtual game.

As for the author, he said, "I no longer look myself in the mirror, it never even occurs to me to want to know what has happened to my face and to my appearance."

He also said, "No name. No memory today of yesterday's name; of today's name tomorrow. If the name is the thing; if a name in us is the concept of every thing placed outside of us... well then, let each carve this name that I bore among men... and then leave it in peace. I am alive and I do for the dead. For those who have concluded I am alive and I do not conclude. Life does not conclude, and life knows nothing of names."