Tonight, I was musing on the fate of the Nymph, Echo who lost her own voice and was forced to repeat the words of others. I think that to some degree this is the fate of all of us. I mean think about it, what person or thing did you echo today?
Derrida suggests in this intriguing little video I found on uTube, that "Echo is able to appropriate Narcissus in such a way that he becomes her, in a sense." When we are in love with someone and blindly reflect back their persona to them, aren't we in effect doing the same thing?
In Ovid, Metamorphoses III we are told, "her name is Echo; she always answer back."
Does She? Do We?
What will enable us to find our own voice/identity?
Derrida interprets the myth as the juxtaposition of two blind people loving each other. How can they? How can we, who cannot see, make our way in the journey of self that we call love?
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