Abstract Young African fashion microcelebrities are social media influencers who regularly share their outfits of the day and actively engage with their audiences, contributing to the burgeoning phenomenon of youth geographies in Africa. By examining their representations of authentic selfhood through a geographical approach to performativity, we not only suggest that authenticity on social media is both performed and performative but also argue that the performativity of performing authenticity is inherently spatial and relational. Sampling from 100 of the most popular fashion microcelebrities across four African countries, we conduct case studies of two from Nigeria and two from Senegal, illustrating spatial and cultural differences. According to visual methodologies in cultural geographies, qualitative analysis of all the posts made by four figures and their interactions with audiences after posting enables us to identify three strategic performances, namely branding, locating, and peopling authenticity. We further argue that these regularised and interrelated performances become spatial discursive practices, helping form and expand discursive spaces where authenticity is relationally performed and performatively enacted. This finding further develops performativity scholarship in human geography by bringing spatiality and relationality together in both virtual and everyday spaces. For youth geographies, we also emphasise that power dynamics in these spaces are relative and relational: The young African microcelebrities seemingly have full agency to perform authenticity, but they are actually compelled to follow the interactional modes in the ever‐changing discursive spaces which they create but cannot control.

ABSTRACT In recent years, the nostalgia for China’s rock ‘golden age’ has continued to develop on digital platforms, with young music fans playing a key role as practitioners, constantly invoking this historical experience through practices such as ‘online archaeology.’ This study, based on discourse analysis methods and drawing on 339 user-generated content and interviews with 21 young individuals, explores the spatiotemporal dimensions and cultural logic of this nostalgic practice. The research finds that, temporally, young people intertwine personal memories of their youth with cultural imaginings of the ‘golden age,’ constructing a value system centred on rebellious spirit, authentic selfhood, and idealism. Spatially, they generate symbolic cultural belonging through nostalgia for ‘hometowns,’ ‘livehouses,’ and ‘music communities,’ in response to emotional ruptures and identity crises in the present. This article argues that this digital nostalgia practice not only serves as an emotional regulation mechanism for individuals in the face of a disordered reality, but also projects a collective imagination of a generation regarding an ‘unfulfilled future,’ making the rock ‘golden age’ an important symbolic resource and emotional outlet for young people confronting the current challenges.

This study compares Confucian sincerity (cheng) and Jungian individuation as two paths toward authentic selfhood. Confucian sincerity stresses aligning inner intention with outward action, while Jungian individuation emphasizes integrating persona and shadow. The paper argues that both traditions describe a shared developmental pattern: authenticity emerges when individuals confront inner contradictions, cultivate honest self-awareness, and reduce the gap between internal and external selves.

The digital age has changed how people present themselves online and perceive representations of the truth. This paper examines how online anonymity, disinformation, and identity reconstruction can undermine authenticity in digital spaces. Today, with over five billion social media users worldwide, the boundary between genuine and manufactured realities has been blurred by the rise of deepfakes, filters, and AI-generated content. This paper explores how anonymity creates conditions where fake content can thrive, accountability is reduced, and digital deception is normalized. It also discusses the motivating factors and consequences of spreading disinformation online. The paper further examines how identity reconstruction through curated personas leads to cognitive dissonance, loneliness, and the potential disintegration of authentic selfhood. Ultimately, it argues that unchecked anonymity and disinformation can pose ethical, psychological, and societal risks that impact digital integrity and democratic stability. Promoting media literacy, enforcing digital accountability, and developing AI-based content verification systems are essential to safeguarding authenticity in an era where online deception is rapidly increasing.

Abstract Yannaras interprets the fall as a descent from the potentiality of realising authentic selfhood in God to a fragmented human nature. Sartre claimed that God and belief are dead, and the only certainty is death and nothingness. This article explores how Christ in His incarnation and death on the cross overcomes the human will’s narcissistic bent by uniting human nature to the will of the divine logos. It discusses Gregory of Nyssa’s idea of the soul’s recovery of its pre-fall potentiality in spiritual struggle toward God and how Christ draws those who love Him into Himself to participate in the body of Christ through the Eucharist.

This study explores how Chang-Rae Lee, a Korean American writer, adeptly reworks the generic elements of spy fiction to serve as a conduit for interweaving his semi-autobiographical elements into Native Speaker, ultimately yielding a literary precondition sought by literary cosmopolitanism. The examination engages in a continuous search to identify literary preconditions that can address the challenges posed by prevailing power imbalances in discourse systems, which persist in impeding the progress of comparative exchanges toward a genuinely cosmopolitan literary ecology. It positions Lee’s literary practice within the landscape of U.S. literature, where he navigates similar challenges posed by the American publishing industry and the expectations of the reading public for ethnic writers to conform to formulaic representations that reinforce essentialist notions of identity. Analyzing Lee’s literary construction within this context reveals how his formal blend, in and of itself, not only subverts the role of genre as an ideological reinforcer but also empowers him to convey his authentic personal narratives without being reduced to a simplistic representation. This approach, therefore, ensures the preservation of authentic selfhood before embarking on further comparative literary exchanges.

Re-envisioning autonomy: From consent and cognitive capacity to embodied, relational, and authentic selfhood

John Green’s Looking for Alaska (2005) is a young adult novel rich with existential themes, particularly the quest for self-realization amid life’s uncertainties. This paper offers an existentialist critique of the novel, examining how its characters grapple with questions of meaning, identity, and choice in a seemingly irrational world. Drawing on the philosophies of Jean-Paul Sartre, Søren Kierkegaard, and Albert Camus, the analysis argues that the protagonists’ journey toward “self-realization” exemplifies the existential idea that individuals must create their own meaning. Miles “Pudge” Halter’s pursuit of the “Great Perhaps” and Alaska Young’s fascination with the “labyrinth of suffering” serve as narrative vehicles for exploring existence, freedom, despair, and the absurd. Through a close reading of the text and engagement with scholarly discussions, this paper sheds new light on how Looking for Alaska portrays the existential struggle for authentic selfhood and the significance of personal choice in the face of death and uncertainty. The conclusion highlights that Green’s novel, though written for a young audience, resonates with classic existential questions, ultimately suggesting that forgiveness, responsibility, and hope are key to navigating the “labyrinth” of life.

ABSTRACTThis essay offers a Kierkegaardian analysis of and response to the harmful effects of destabilization that can be caused by engaging with certain technological media. It argues that the intellectual technological ethic that is at work in social media platforms reflects two types of despair discussed in Søren Kierkegaard's Sickness Unto Death. It advises using a Kierkegaard‐inspired Socratic rhetorical strategy of communication that ironically employs technology for depicting this despair and awakening individuals to its presence in their lives. Moreover, this essay suggests that the edifying themes of “misery” and “guilt” can be communicated indirectly and thereby offer one intervention that could possibly help the current technological age move from the immediate aesthetic sphere of existence to the religious sphere. Considering the important role of upbuilding in Kierkegaard's oeuvre, the final portion explores how even someone who does not identify with a religious tradition or community may encounter what Kierkegaard terms the paradox of the eternal in time in ways that foster the development of authentic selfhood.

"In the exploration of post-colonial literature, Tayeb Saleh's 'Season of Migration to the North' and Frantz Fanon's 'Black Skin, White Masks' emerge as pivotal works that intricately dissect the complex interplay between identity and colonialism. Both authors delve into the psychological ramifications of colonial histories on individual identities, unraveling the multifaceted layers of the post-colonial experience. The themes of identity and colonialism in Tayeb Salih's "Season of Migration to the North" through the lens of Frantz Fanon's seminal work, "Black Skin, White Masks." By examining the experiences of the protagonist, Mustafa Sa'eed, who returns to Sudan after studying in England, the essay delves into the complex ways in which colonial encounters shape individual identity. Drawing on Fanon's theories, particularly the concepts of double consciousness and the psychological effects of colonization, the analysis sheds light on the psychological and cultural impact of the colonial experience on Sa'eed and other characters in the novel. This article investigates the idea of cultural hybridity and the ambivalence that arises from navigating multiple cultural influences. Moreover, it explores the gender dynamics present in both works, emphasizing the power imbalances and objectification of women within the colonial context. Through a comparative analysis, the article seeks to highlight the characters' struggles for authentic selfhood and the broader implications of their experiences in a post-colonial world. Ultimately, this exploration provides insights into the enduring relevance of these themes and the intricate interplay between identity and colonialism in literature. The present article seeks to examine the nuanced ways in which Saleh's narrative and Fanon's psychoanalytic insights intersect, offering a profound understanding of the profound impact of colonialism on the construction and negotiation of identity in a post-colonial world." Tayeb Salih's novel, Season of Migration to the North, delves into the intricate relationships that exist between colonialism and identity in post-colonial Sudan. In close resemblance to Frantz Fanon's groundbreaking work Black Skin, White Masks, the article explores the novel's complex concerns of identity building, cultural hybridity, and the psychological effects of colonialism in African literature. By their audacious writings, Fanon and Salih both transformed the postcolonial African landscape. Using a postcolonial perspective, this study investigates how the story's characters navigate their cultural heritage and sense of self in the years after colonial domination.

ABSTRACT This paper underscores how articulations of/about affect establish the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of what is authorized, encouraged, redeemed, or prohibited within discourses that legitimate neoliberal governmentality. Through an exemplary analysis of LGBTQ diversity discourse data, I demonstrate how institutionalized ‘endorsements’ of diversity frame employees’ selves entirely as resources for capital, and legitimate ways that LGBTQ workers conduct themselves as feeling actors (and productive workers). This has implications far beyond the realm of LGBTQ inclusion. Building upon descriptions of discursive legitimation suggesting that strategies function in combination with one another, the process I describe, ‘affective legitimation’, is one where they cohere. Financial, bureaucratic or political-economic concerns are imbued with emotion, becoming something ‘more-than’. Diverse subjects’ authentic selfhood, innermost desires, productivity, personal and professional fulfilment, and idealized self-sufficient citizenship are grafted together – treated as equivalent, thus affirming rationales of corporate profitability and entrepreneurial self-actualization. As one speaker quoted here remarks, ‘for business it boils down to one thing’. It is vital to apprehend how contemporary discourses about workers’ capacity to feel entwine with discourses about how it feels to have ones’ labour rewarded: how sanctioned outcomes endorse certain ‘feeling rules’, and how such rules strengthen the authority and legitimacy of capitalist exploitation.

Abstract This paper argues for a Kierkegaardian account of personal identity in dialogue with MacIntyre, Korsgaard, Frankfurt, Ricœur, and Marion. I engage with the scholarly debate on Kierkegaard’s relationship to practical and narrative accounts of the self and argue that he criticizes the ideal of self-authorship because authentic selfhood must be co-authored with others and embedded in the narrative setting and history that is provided by facticity. Moreover, this relation to facticity requires ethical commitment and existential faith. The phenomenology of the call can show how such commitment and faith overcomes self-alienation by synthesizing the passive and active aspects of selfhood.

ABSTRACT: Whether rabbinic authorities should remove the excommunication (cherem) of philosopher Benedict de Spinoza has been a matter of debate in recent years. Spinoza’s philosophical thought, however, demonstrates that this debate would not matter to him. His pantheism, developed in the Theological-Philosophical Treatise and the Ethics, will ever be a radical contestation of monotheism. Juxtaposing his philosophical views to the fictional narrative that existential psychologist Irvin D. Yalom offers, in his novel The Spinoza Problem, provides plausible psychological insight into Spinoza’s post-cherem identity in pursuit of authentic selfhood (‘authentic’ in Heidegger’s sense of ‘authenticity,’ Eigentlichkeit). Thereby, we can appreciate the enduring import of Spinoza’s radical enlightenment, the authentic choice of the identity he adopted, and his indefatigable commitment to the piety of reason, i.e., intellectual love of God (amor Dei intellectus).

Michael Raposa has offered his readers a compelling method for philosophical theology in his Theosemiotic: Religion, Reading, and the Gift of Meaning—one that is steeped in the Peircean logic of relations, pragmaticistically oriented toward action, and advances a “semiotic consciousness” (to use a John Deely-ism). My task in this essay is to further query Raposa in order to learn the extent to which it might be compatible with the aims of Christian theology, specifically a form of which I call “semiotic theology.” Given theosemiotic's and semiotic theology's common conceptual grounding in Peirce's philosophy, there is, ostensibly, considerable promise; however, there are certain ambiguities that remain in Theosemiotic that require explanation, especially those which are rooted in the claim that it may make ground in theological inquiry “without any practical or strategic purpose.”1 I am hoping that Raposa might then clarify his project so that a confessional, philosophical theologian like myself might better understand its relation to semiotic theology.Toward that end, I have identified three specific subject matters about which I would be grateful for further elucidation: (1), the extent to which theosemiotic could endorse a kataphatic theology (or any specific theology at all), which would permit determining “God” in certain important respects; (2), whether theosemiotic would welcome any doctrinal claims about humanity's final end that might sharpen its emphasis on religious action; and, (3), whether semiotic complementarity is able to maintain the distinctions of lived religious traditions for preserving unified, communal practices. Having these questions answered, it would go a long way toward understanding how, and in what senses, theosemiotic might become partner with semiotic theology. But, before exploring these matters in depth, I will briefly address the character of semiotic theology.Semiotic theology may be described as an effort to revise Christian theology into a form of discourse that operates upon a semiotic rationale. It attempts to take the history of biblical, theological, and doctrinal reasoning and critically judge and reinterpret its conclusions according to a framework that embraces the paradigm-shifting work of semiotics, especially Peirce's and the community of inquiry that has followed in his footsteps. I believe this is important for Christian theological discourse to advance beyond various impasses that have been created by centuries of misplaced philosophical and theological bases (e.g., substance metaphysics; the division between nature and supernature; conception/perception dichotomies; and so on) and am personally committed to a project that seeks to rethink what a confessional theology should look like given the insights of semiotics.To give some concreteness to this project, my own attempt to describe the foundational structures of semiotic theology—insofar as it concerns the reasonableness of speaking about a meaningful relation between God and creatures—was offered in my recent book, The Analogy of Signs: Rethinking Theological Language with Charles S. Peirce.2 Therein, I argued that discourse about God in the Christian tradition is untenable if framed as sufficiently described through an analogy of being (i.e., an ontological principle establishing a connection between God's being and the creature's being), grammatical analogy (i.e., a linguistic practice that connects God and creatures through an expressive performance), or analogy of faith (i.e., a relation that enables the creature's acts of free obedience to God in imitation of Jesus Christ). That is because these views reflect a dependence upon deceiving metaphysical dualisms, largely derived from classical Greek philosophy. For instance, the distinction between matter and form has done much to create an unbridgeable gap between divine and human realms. It holds that, whereas form is the basis of the cognizable, matter is merely the unintelligible stuff that receives a form to be cognized. Such a distinction effectively negates any possible continuity between God and creatures when theologians presume God is pure form and human conception is inextricably based in sense experience mediated by material stuff (as in, say, Aquinas). On such a set of views, speech about God can only be non-sense, for no association of ideas to conceptual objects can be allowed to be determinately meaningful for an object totally different from what is conceived.By my lights, the only sufficient way to enable theological discourse is to found it on an analogy of signs: God and creatures are commensurate in the action of signs, for both are meaningful through the univocity of semiosis—that is, the triadic relational process wherein representamen, object, and interpretant interact. The pivotal, confessional component in such an account is establishing Jesus Christ at the intersection of the analogy of signs’ formula: Jesus the God-Man demonstrates by his life the compatibility of divine and human signs. So, in Jesus is disclosed the reality of semiotic univocity, and divinity is determinately knowable and interpretable in his person as a result. Any metaphysical claim is contingent upon that semiotic univocity, but inferences made from Jesus’ sign activity must be analogical insofar as those signs are abstracted and rendered generalizable with our own. Yet, whatever inequality those signs might express in their constant fluctuation (whether through growth or atrophy), the univocity of semiosis establishes their core commensurability.Having recognized the semiotic touchstone for Christian theology, the rest of it must be based on this prolegomenal framing for the discourse to be intelligible. In so doing, all doctrinal claims must be made semiotically interpretable—that is, they must be subject to semiosis's triadic relation, and potentially instantiated within a taxonomy of signs (which is not to say entirely reducible to any particular sign-type; but, rather, could be articulated as belonging among sign-types). The theologian cannot merely jump from a study of what appears in experience (i.e., phenomenology) to the most general categories of reality (i.e., metaphysics), but must mediate them with semiotic (including, in Peircean terms, both the study of signs proper in speculative grammar, and the study of arguments in logical critic). The upshot is that—to borrow a metaphor from Peirce—all religious reflection must have first come through the gate of semiotic, or be “arrested as unauthorized by reason.”3 Whether that concerns theology proper, protology, anthropology, Christology, ecclesiology, eschatology, etc., all theological expressions stand on the solid rock of semiosis. Conversely, putative religious or theological symbols that are incompatible with semiotic classification are useless at best, and—under the guise of meaningful expression—destructive at worst; in either case, a theologian should have nothing to do with such symbols.Thus, the theologian must not be simply aware of the discipline of semiotic, or have some speculations about how certain doctrines can be interpreted along semiotic lines; no, the theologian must be a semiotician. If Christians might generally agree with Paul Tillich that theology is “the methodological interpretation of the contents of Christian faith,”4 interpretation must here be understood as the practice of rendering judgments intelligible through sign-action and its specific classes. A theologian who cannot regard her claims with semiotic consciousness should be regarded with the utmost suspicion. This is not to say that her claims populate a semantic wasteland, but rather to advocate the suspension of judgment over their theological veracity until the claims are semiotically coherent.So much, then, for a précis of semiotic theology. What I hope has been made clear is the following about it: (1), operating within the Christian theological tradition, it does not seek to do away with that tradition's sources of theological truth, but to primarily reinterpret its contents while excising those elements that play no semiotic role;5 (2), it takes the insights of semiotics to be crucial to structuring theological discourse, both for establishing its intelligibility and acting as a judge over its constructive claims; and, (3), it understands the theologian as semiotician: as reasonably reflecting upon Christian revelation in semiotic consciousness.To turn to the main objective of this essay, my question for Raposa is this: to what extent may theosemiotic become a partner with semiotic theology in its efforts to rethink and reframe Christian theology? Surely, Raposa's goals for his book are not identical with mine for semiotic theology; however, our common interest in theology that is constructive, spiritually edifying, important for the health of living religious traditions, and keen to read the universe of signs purposively, seems to go some way to prepare a potential convergence and, perhaps, symbiotic relationship between the two. It is this potential that intrigues me about Raposa's project, and so I will begin by questioning him on theosemiotic's ultimate referent.“God, of course,” one might reply. But, Raposa continually reminds his reader about the imprecision of the idea of God, and this leads me to ask about what sort of claims can be applied to the object of religious thought and devotion. He writes that theosemiotic “embrac[es] a form of apophatic or negative theology, a theology of mystery,” and this is informed by Peirce's logic of vagueness, which consequently must hold that “all talk about God must be necessarily and exceedingly vague” (TS, 7). Much of chapter 3 explores what this means.Before proceeding, though, it is worth spending a moment to consider Peirce's logic of vagueness, for it will be important as the paper proceeds, and Raposa himself does not offer an explicit description of its logical function in the book. Peirce takes vagueness to be a property of signs, those gears upon which logic turns: “a sign that is objectively indeterminate in any respect is objectively vague in so far as it reserves further determination to be made in some other conceivable sign, or at least does not appoint the interpreter as its deputy in this office” (EP 2:351, 1905). In other words, a vague sign requires some other sign—and not the interpreter of the vague sign—to either affirm or deny some character or predicate to the vague sign. Until that other sign is presented, the principle of contradiction “does not apply”6 to that character or predicate. Thus, “That pen is mine . . . ” allows the recipient of the statement to neither affirm nor deny the pen is the black, blue, or red one in a group; rather, the speaker (or something else) would need to offer some other sign to further determine the vague sign (say, “ . . . the black one,” “ . . . not the black one,” or by gesturing in the black one's vicinity). We should notice three things here: (1), the initially vague sign itself is not entirely indeterminate of character: it is a statement about a known kind of object in some proximate space belonging to the utterer; (2), the recipient may still be successful in guessing the correct pen without the “other conceivable sign,” but nothing in the vague sign by itself will establish the correctness of the guess made; and, (3), only the other sign—the statement or gesture, in this case—is privileged to determine positively or negatively the character or predicate for the recipient. Thus, (a), the usefulness of vague signs is contingent upon the respects in which it is determinate; (b), vague signs will not affirm or deny the truth of further determinations made by the interpreter; and, (c), vague signs require another sign, not vague in the same respect, to further determine them.As I said, Raposa makes much use of the notion of vagueness, which for him seems to amount to “determining a range of possible meanings [wherein a symbol's] interpretation [is] left indeterminate to some extent and in certain respects” (4). But, compared to what was just said above, this presents an incomplete picture: specifically, it leaves out the interpreter's limitations in further determining the vague sign or symbol, and the requirement for the “other conceivable sign” to accomplish that task. It is not surprising that Theosemiotic presents this partial view of vagueness, since it is being used with an eye toward one of its particular aspects: it opens up the door to many possible meanings for the idea of God without affirming or denying their truth status. But the result is that the other side of the coin of vagueness, the consequent loss of particular meaning, is treated with less scrutiny. The upshot is that Raposa seems more concerned to avoid “idolatry,” and less “vacuous nonsense” (85). On the one hand, he says, theosemiotic need not hold to the “personal deity” of theism in order to pursue “genuine theological reflection” (TS, 75–76). Of course, following Peirce's lead in the “Neglected Argument,” Raposa will claim that some classical idea of God as creator is a legitimate and fruitful hypothesis; however, the idea that follows from that argument is itself quite indeterminate, and holding to its conclusion is no requirement for belonging within theosemiotic's bounds (hence the inclusion of Buddhism, Daoism, and contemporary forms of religious naturalism within its parameters [e.g., 76, 85, 218, 252]). Indeed, theosemiotic distinguishes itself by marking “the limits of semiosis,” and upholds the notion that takes ultimate reality to be “no-determinate-thing” (85), and potentially the totally different “ground of being” of all determinate things, which therefore would “not possess consciousness, have purposes, or display agency” (90).But, on the other hand, closing the door against a “collapse into meaninglessness” is Scotus's view of the univocity of being—the claim that ultimate reality and contingent reality share in a single sense of “being.” But, given theosemiotic's brand of apophaticism mentioned above, this looks to be a vacuous affirmation if not joined with some semiotic sense of similarity; alone, it is a distinction from non-univocity without a difference. The appeal to continuity between ultimate and contingent reality needs to be demonstrated in some specific way. Raposa is not ignorant of this problem: he writes that the apophaticism espoused by theosemiotic must be a qualified one, wherein the “extreme vagueness of [“God”] does not rule out the critique of various ways in which it might be interpreted, nor does it suggest that in the matter of such interpretation ‘anything goes’” (95). But, the explanation for this qualification leaves much unanswered.Raposa claims, with Peirce, that some kind of anthropomorphism is appropriate for understanding “God,” yet it is likely also a term more capaciously inclusive of senses than even “love” (TS, 87). He also says that God is “living” and “personal” as love's perfect object (95), but it is difficult to see how those terms could be made meaningful by theosemiotic, given how capacious the concept of ultimate reality may be within it. It is not satisfying to be told the idea is one that is instinctual (88). Instinct is that “inherited [or acquired] disposition” representing “some general principle working in a man's nature to determine how he will act” (CP 2.170, 1902); the judgments resulting from instinct are vague, yes, but not overly indeterminate, as evidenced by the fact that they lead one to act in general ways (“Fight back against an attacker!”), which then may be refined upon receiving some other information (e.g., “Strike the bear in the eyes!”).But, in the case of the idea of God, one sees a double challenge in its necessary and exceeding vagueness: first, discerning the particular character that may be known of its idea that leads us to act; and, second, securing the character and authority of the “other conceivable sign” that may affect the interpreter's thought and action about that vague idea. I am not so sure that theosemiotic meets this challenge adequately. In one case Raposa writes that, though “divine reality” cannot be “perfectly captured in signs,” these signs can somehow be “seized by” that reality to “get itself thought” (TS, 138). But, however that reality may “crus[h] our symbols, and then bring new ones to life in the semiotic debris,” we still trade in semiotic vocabulary that forms its residue—so, what is therein discerned about divine reality, if only so slight, fleeting, or fragmentary? do the new symbols have any authority in the for truth over those that In another case, he says that the God of Peirce's theosemiotic is mediated by signs,” but this seems to any if those signs “all of the signs that it is possible for one to Surely, if any particular is to make then some signs must be at of to But, how would one be able to judge their if ultimate reality is just as by nothing in particular as in a specific would be to the If theosemiotic might be used to a notion that God is if and so on (CP then it is to see how it could Raposa seems to suggest it the of (TS, or It would be one to say that theosemiotic makes no claims one way or the other about but such a of ideas would not for a philosophical theology that Raposa to So, to the double what does such an idea of God that is to such and what meaningful signs vague may to the vague idea to make it more determinate in a way that the interpreter's without being some to the idea of God or some authority to certain signs to make that idea more I am of what can be said for on these in the and the of wherein is the sort of inquiry that Peirce's it is not clear what about a in God is to one to The object of that form of inquiry is understood to have an in the of the and then to lead one into in with the (TS, But, what sort of about the object are that should then have this Surely, this must be more than the in a (EP what about the (TS, would suggest authority over my and practical What is there to in the in to simply does one for the being of because of it to questions like I to see how theosemiotic could its object of or what it could be I that being framed as a method many to itself into the of indeterminate and Peirce's anthropomorphism will not the to it into the the resulting vagueness both intelligible speech about the object of religious and other religious that would further determine the object signs may offer . . . potential of (TS, but that potential has to be other signs to something specific for there is nothing to lead our thought or action in one way or the I do not see how theosemiotic has the apophaticism and with respect to its kataphatic elements in this philosophical theology, then, I am to say that theosemiotic's God is it rather, just and Such a conclusion is, of course, to be incompatible with semiotic theology, which with Christian theology and other living religious traditions a to speaking reasonably about God as certain (i.e., determining and not (i.e., determining as (TS, because they are or that are of something general or living such as on a are things with of specific semiotic This seems to be for a should not be to some abstracted (i.e., or (i.e., but should be regarded as a wherein of through as Raposa the as living can only be so understood for this of is some through the and for some But it is this more view that I about when one the what is this specifically, what are the toward which theosemiotic the to seems to be a question for many of the book, but I will three to here: and the first, Raposa out the notion of as one that is to the one and that does so without any will not to what or but to whatever to just as it (TS, But what seems from this of is what one's in its should for the of the On the most we can say, as Raposa that it would the however, to that as the end of is to express something with use for What is the that is to be and that toward which one how is that with what is in the Peirce says in that seeks out the of in the it into and makes it for sees the as an of itself (EP Thus, seems to be for some in the hope of the by a (TS, something But the question what is the or of the that one might seek to into its is its own If and are in the way that Peirce seems to then what can we about them that makes them Raposa seems to be aware of concerns like He of as a as a in between (TS, The described is one made out of for the of that sign presents to one who is to and to But, while this might describe a of and in the it does not what the object of is other than that which to offer meaning, which could be does it address that for which one to be a for the of seems to be important for marking a between the that Raposa one Peirce's and the religious naturalism that would that on the one hand, for God as the vague of all is rather on the other hand, the religious of a for being as such at a vague of there that would make this of Peirce's theism more if a of is what a person should come to what is that to be If is to the of a theology as then what about that and for instance, the of the which Raposa upon at various for my (i.e., do I and do or just of what might amount to a in theosemiotic If in what regard to one of the of chapter we another of the least the form about which Raposa a to to through some (TS, Theosemiotic embraces the notion that theology is a that the religious of the in which we (e.g., and the one in it (e.g., But, the character of the to be in such is Raposa to or but what do these He on the of various forms of action that such a as as but the aims of these remain what do the and what is If the of is certain of the to to which ones should we and If theology toward what is the character of a better be I neither seek from Raposa that his will not nor some . . . in it is about the that might be offered about these to be to the in the of as would any should this be If there is some of (TS, that is for by a religious it seems important to what that if it is as a sort of (as in the of in to a of and advance into divine (say, the within of the to these would turn out to be quite those Thus, it makes sense that theosemiotic to take a more on the to This up against the first matter if the subject of is the as living and some of its growth is the of then we still must for what does one we into the of what an may and what sort of is within theosemiotic's Raposa reminds his reader that will some of the question is, what as He does that by theosemiotic must be and so as to what “all would (TS, I am not so certain that the final on would be so vague, but, at any the of ideas from and Peirce does not to bring to any clear rule for to the reader does to become something more than when a of it is the for to be to not own What are for that are to consider the to or believe is the object of the and theosemiotic to some and of these ideas to a concept for practical action, and that can toward Raposa at one how far the concept of community can without if and with I whether theosemiotic has itself been by vagueness so that it cannot these questions about of in chapter first seems to us in a Raposa writes that is act of (TS, as his is of love's relational not its or it is difficult to the and of what is one what is the of and in what sense are these done in “a certain in love's display as as and without a

In Search of the Soul: A Philosophical Essay

ABSTRACT In scholarship on cancer survivorship, “normality” is discussed as a strategy to restore and maintain continuity of identity for the person with cancer. I interrogate the strategic deployment of “normality” in what I define as ritual-like practices by drawing on 20 narrative interviews and 455 photographs produced by study participants. The findings explore normality as outcome (being normal), practice (doing normality), and ethical standard (aspiring to normality). They indicate how sociocultural scripts such as the cancer survivor identity and authentic selfhood inflect what it means to be a “normal” person with cancer with repercussions for recognition in lived experience.

Vera Fedorovna Kommissarzhevskaia (1864–1910) was one of the most famous stage performers of late imperial Russia, perhaps best known for debuting the part of Nina Zarechnaia in Chekhov's The Seagull (Chaika). Her unexpected death in 1910 became a major public event and media sensation, prompting an enormous outpouring of mourning throughout the Russian Empire and extensive commentary in the press that demonstrated her significant social resonance and place in debates on pressing concerns animating late imperial Russia. This article examines the meanings ascribed to Kommissarzhevskaia by commentators and mourners alike through the symbol most frequently used to describe her: the seagull. Attention to the seagull motif in press coverage and public mourning reveals that mourners, influenced by Kommissarzhevskaia herself, transformed the seagull from a signifier of tragic, suffering womanhood into a symbol of emotionally sincere selfhood that promised the transcendence of the troubles of the present. For many Russians who viewed the present world as fragmented, inauthentic, and temporally disjointed, Kommissarzhevskaia as the seagull both embodied the troubles of modernity and suggested a model of overcoming them through an unwavering sense of self revealed by the performance of sincere feeling. Reactions to Kommissarzhevskaia's death demonstrate the social importance of ideas of sincere emotion and authentic selfhood as part of a larger search for transcendent individuals in the late imperial public sphere.

How Did I Get Here? Speer Morgan How did I get here?" is a recurring question in one of my favorite songs, "Once in a Lifetime" by the Talking Heads. It is an anthem to the uncertainty of human existence that suggests the existential feel of much of this issue. While several post–World War II philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and Albert Camus are called "existentialists," they were less a school than a group of related thinkers stretching back to the nineteenth century. Their ideas are akin but quite individual. They came from an understandable beginning, as late eighteenth-century industrialization created an urban working class. Marx was predictive of existential thought due to the threats to individual freedom that he argued would happen in developed capitalist economies, regardless of the label used by political leaders for their economic systems. It is hardly surprising that after the second devastating great war of the twentieth century, philosophers would write about alienation, absurdity, and the tendency of humans to follow the crowd. If we are not born into a benevolent and inherently meaningful reality, we can create authentic selfhood only through conscious choice and action. Camus's The Myth of Sisyphus describes this as one of the most basic paradoxes of existentialism: While Sisyphus must forever roll and then reroll the boulder up the hill, condemned by the gods to powerless rebellion, he understands his condition; he is fully aware and, in some small way, therefore victorious. Existential thought in general is not a simplistic denial of all combined human effort. We are conscious and free and must live with [End Page 5] personal choice, and with that comes responsibility. We also must participate in collective or joint action to do anything important. Such larger recognitions go back to the early thinkers regarded as existential—Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche—and continue through to the late ones such as Martin Heidegger and Hannah Arendt. Because some sources of mass communication pour out misinformation (a fact acknowledged as early as Nietzsche's time, when newspapers were often notoriously "bought" by political and commercial powers), we must combat it through our own awareness and knowledge. We fight these same battles today. By using Greek myth to exemplify the central paradox in existentialism, Camus shows that its emphasis on choice and present action does not deny previous culture. Literature comes from our struggle to understand reality and deal with human issues such as virtue, malice, death, separation, rites of passage, and epiphany. It is at once mythic and existential. Literary realists such as Charles Dickens sometimes used mythic or fairy-tale-like characters and environments—monstrous bad guys, innocents, impossible odds—with protagonists who are alone in an unfriendly world that includes little human community or status. Whatever they achieve they do themselves, through choice and deed. It is no accident that Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, and James Baldwin, three of the important twentieth-century Black American novelists, also shared both existential and mythic approaches to issues of race and the human condition. They lived with the general destructiveness of the twentieth century and the rise of racial discrimination and white supremacy. Like the Invisible Man at the end of Ellison's novel, their protagonists are left trying to turn on as many lights as possible, even if their choices be Sisyphean. The fiction in this issue reveals how the impact and legacy of the past can sometimes create a new and disorienting present. Devin Murphy's story of boyhood friendship, "Reclamation," is a tale of two boys living near the shore of Lake Erie whose friendship is built on the fact that both are partial outcasts who have problems at home. A death and shared secret sever their friendship. Years later, the protagonist tries to revisit the place where they grew up and reconnect with his childhood friend. What happens leads him to reconsider the past and adopt a new openness to the present. [End Page 6] Kristen Iskandrian's "Picnic, Ocean, Hatred" is a story of two days, twenty years apart. For two decades, since the accidental drowning of her preteen daughter, Iskandrian's protagonist, Katie, has...

This essay examines a neglected archive of hydropathic memoirs to reconstruct the lay experience of seeking medical agency in the full-fledged alternative medical market in mid-nineteenth-century Britain. Two main texts under examination are Edward Bulwer-Lytton's Confessions of a Water Patient (1845) and J. Leech's Three Weeks between Wet Sheets; the Diary and Doings of a Moist Visitor to Malvern (1851). While Bulwer-Lytton's encomium for hydropathy features an invalid subject's journey toward a holistic sense of self-command, Leech's satire undermines this empowerment by exposing the anxieties of navigating the market as a medical consumer. Situating the rhetoric of hydropathy within the context of the medical marketplace, this essay illuminates the ways in which the period's alternative health practices, with their shared vision of self-reliant, natural health, offered consumer options primed for the expression of authentic selfhood and the exercise of medical self-governance.

The Twyborn Affair (1979) is generally regarded as Patrick White’s covert “coming out” novel, followed by his frank “confession” in his autobiography, Flaws in the Glass (1981). However, this article explores how even an earlier work such as The Aunt’s Story (1977/1948), from the Nobel laureate’s modernist phase, may be seen as a pre-text for the gay self, whereby the author stages incomplete representations of his own subaltern position in the characters he “becomes” in his writing. Through a series of textual feints, his persona is disseminated in the form of polyvalent alternative selves which belie any possibility for recuperation of a stable, authentic selfhood. White thereby refuses the univocal inscription of subjectivity upon which sexual hegemony is predicated. What I aim to do in this article is to extend the particularities of the novel’s writing strategies (found in the Jardin Exotique section, for example, which functions as a Foucauldian heterotopic space) into the province of gender. In doing so, I will show how the gay author, through the central character, Theodora Goodman’s protean identities and the deployment of competing narrative epistemologies, can fabricate alternative subject positions. These attest not only to the artificial technologies of gender constitution, but also function as remnants of White’s own divided status, brought about by his dissonant subaltern position in the borderlands of representation.