Amorella, still here at the ‘entrance’ wall of the Great Hall. This portrait hangs just to your right as you walk in as the teachers and children do in the Potter films, and professors and students may do in real life, of course.
This is how I remember its location, Amorella. I don’t know for a fact that it is still in the same place today, let’s just say it was on the right just inside the entrance coming down from the balcony. I am always leary of remembering most anything as an out and out fact.
Is this the reason you like to consider yourself ‘mostly fiction,’ enough so that you would like it etched onto your gravestone?
Yes, I say so, Amorella. Having little or no worthy memory without a backup leads to a lot of imagination and hope for the best. Doubt has had its inner growth through lack of decent memory. For my own personal comfort it is a necessity that I write out my thoughts. Seeing the words of my thoughts on the computer screen shows me that my mind exists.
The framed painting on the wall of the Great Hall at Christ’s College exists. Why do you doubt your own existence, as you do when you say you are ‘mostly fiction’?
This is an extremely good question, Amorella. I have attempted to respond to this for several minutes now but I find I cannot, even though I do feel that deep within I am mostly fiction. I am bound by the circumstances and conditions of my ‘existential inner self’.
This is worthy of thought in terms of ‘what one takes with herorhim when sheorhe dies’ at least of context of the conditions within the three Merlyn books.
The writer of Shakespeare said “To thine own self be true,” and Socrates reported said, “Know thyself.” It appears impossible to ‘know’ or ‘understand’ one’s deep inner feelings and motivations even some of the time. How then can one ever be true to one’s self?
The humor of this in the Merlyn books, from my perspective anyway, is that the just desserts are that no one in their right mind can say after deep thought, that sheorhe ‘knows’ who sheorhe is. The humor is that after death, when an angel, let’s say, comes up to anyone and says: “Who Are You?”
In my deepest inner self, under those circumstances, I would have to say before an angel or G---D, “I really do not know.” As such, under these conditions, I can honestly say, “I think I am mostly fiction. In fact, the more I think into it the more unsure I am of my total conscious/unconscious reality, therefore I feel I may be even more fiction than not.”
You think you would say this to G---D or to an Angel of G---D?
I do. I’m POed enough to say it now.
Perhaps we can use this in book four, The Rebellion. A lead character rebels not against G---D but against what sheorhe considers a false truth about herorhis sense of self. The character has no place to go except to others of the Dead who feel and understand that their predicament or circumstance is that it is seemingly impossible to define one’s sense of self accurately.
It is impossible in life, and impossible in death also. Therefore, says this new leader of the Dead, let us go back into the world of the living so that we the Dead may better find the truth of our circumstances so that we might share this with our children, the Living. What do you think, orndorff?
In my present anger it sounds reasonable. I will have to give the concept more thought.
Good enough. Keep in mind that the fictional "rebellion" (ironically) would be an authentic part of your own seemingly deeper nature.
Such humor, Amorella. I smile at it and even want to laugh out loud. There indeed may be some autobiographical truth in this new fiction after all. Who would have thought? I may be honestly framed in a fiction yet unwritten.
Who Am I? Each person has herorhis own internal mystery within, it is a part of our species. To deny this is to deny a part of the truth of ‘conscious self-existence’. That’s my opinion. The interested reader will have herorhis own opinion also, but opinion in either of our cases is not fact.
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