Abstract

All in all, one would probably prefer to have a self. Something minimally integrated and not wholly discontinuous, where memory, or its more powerful and personal multiform, forgetting, could reside. Something to hide and veil, if need be, in the interests of preserving ultimacy in some residual, individual form. Even a fictive self might do — for however quixotic the investment in this nebulous entity, the anxiety attendant on denying its existence is, for most of us, surely

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