But... I'll also admit, that particulalrly in the United States today... hmmm, more so in the South... specifically in those southern bastians of evengelical moral certitude, that hiding behind a facade, a mask, is quite the norm. It's almost the only way one can survive internally in such a one dimensional, black & white; good vs. evil climate.
What does any of this have to do with literature? (Probably not as much as it did when it was a thought in my head.) I was re-reading some of my favorite quotes from Awareness Through Movement by Moshe Feldenkrais. Moshe unpacked the principals of proper body alignment and movement first expounded by Alexander (the famous "Alexander Technique" studied by actors, dancers and vocalists around the world). He makes some pithy observations about the masks we wear:
The great majority of people live active and satisfactory enough lives behind their masks to enable them to stifle more or less painlessly any emptiness they may feel whenever they stop and listen to their heart.
I find that profound for many reasons, but... I'll not elaborate for fear I'll sound like that girl of long ago in the Philadelphia pubs.
