Just begun: A Single Man

by Christopher Isherwood

   "Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face--the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young man--all present still, preserved like fossils on superimposed layers, and, like fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us--we have died--what is there to be afraid of?

   It answers them: But that happened so gradually, so easily. I'm afraid of being rushed.

   It stares and stares. Its lips part. It starts to breathe through its mouth. Until the cortex orders it impatiently to wash, to shave, to brush its hair. Its nakedness has to be covered. It must be dressed up in clothes because it is going outside, into the world of the other people; and these others must be able to identify it. Its behavior must be acceptable to them.

   Obediently, it washes, shaves, brushes its hair, for it accepts its responsibility to the others. It is even glad that it has its place among them. It knows what is expected of it.

   It knows its name. It is called George"(p.11).

Sometimes I avoid the mirror to avoid the disappointment in the other faces waiting there.