Who was the real me? I can only repeat: I was a man of many faces.
At meetings I was earnest, enthusiastic, and committed; among friends, unconstrained and given to teasing; with Marketa, cynical and fitfully witty; and alone {and thinking of Marketa}, unsure of myself and as agitated as a schoolboy.
Was the last face the real one?
No. They were all real: I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn't know who I was or wanted to be. {I was frightened by the differences between one face and the next; none of them seemed to fit me properly, and I groped my way clumsily among them.}"
At meetings I was earnest, enthusiastic, and committed; among friends, unconstrained and given to teasing; with Marketa, cynical and fitfully witty; and alone {and thinking of Marketa}, unsure of myself and as agitated as a schoolboy.
Was the last face the real one?
No. They were all real: I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn't know who I was or wanted to be. {I was frightened by the differences between one face and the next; none of them seemed to fit me properly, and I groped my way clumsily among them.}"
( Milan Kundera )
[ The Joke ]
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