Gabriel Marcel (1951:14-16) – o ego

To go on with our analysis, we observe that this ego here before us, considered as a centre of magnetism, cannot be reduced to certain parts which can be specified such as “my body, my hands, my brain”; it is a global presence—a presence which gains glory from the magnificent bouquet which I myself have picked, which I have brought you; and I do not know whether you should admire more the artistic taste of which it is a proof or the generosity which I have shown in giving it to you, I, who might so easily have kept it for myself. Thus the beauty of the object is in a fashion reflected upon me, and if I appeal to you, then, I repeat, I do so as to a qualified witness whom I invite to wonder at the whole we form—the bouquet and I.

But we must not fail to notice that the admiration which I expect from you, which you give me, can only confirm and heighten the satisfaction I feel in recognising my own merits. Why should we not conclude from this that the ego here present certainly involves a reference to someone else, only this other someone is treated as a foil or amplifier for my own self-satisfaction.

“But”, you will object, “self-satisfaction, self-confidence, self-love: all this takes for granted a self already established which it is necessary to define.” I think that here we must be careful not to fall into a trap of language. This pre-existent ego can only be postulated, and if we try to describe it, we can only do so negatively, by way of exclusion. On the other hand it is very instructive to give a careful account of the act which establishes what I call myself, the act, for instance, by which I attract the attention of (15) others so that they may praise me, maybe, or blame me, but at all events so that they notice me. In every case I produce myself, in the etymological sense of the word, that is to say I put myself forward. Other examples bring us to the same conclusion. Let us keep to the level of a child’s experience. A little stranger stretches out his hand to take the ball which I have left on the ground; I jump up; the ball is mine. Here again the relationship with others is at the root of the matter, but it takes the form of an order: Do not touch. I have no hesitation in saying that the instantaneous claiming of our own property is one of the most significant of our experiences. Here again I “produce” myself. I warn the other person that he must conform his conduct to the rule I have given him. It can be observed without any great subtlety that the sense of possession was already implicit in the previous examples, only it was possession of-a virtue rather than a thing. Here, however, more clearly than just now, the ego is seen as a global and indefinable presence. I, here before you, possess the ball, perhaps I might consent to lend it to you for a few moments, but you must quite understand that it is I who am very kindly lending it to you and that, in consequence, I can take it back from you at any minute if I so wish; I the despot, I the autocrat.

I have used the term presence several times; now I will try as far as possible to define what I mean by it. Presence denotes something rather different and more comprehensive than the fact of just being there; to be quite exact one should not actually say that an object is present. We might say that presence is always dependent on an experience which is at the same time irreducible and vague, the sense of existing, of being in the world. Very early in the development of a human being this consciousness of existing, which we surely have no reason to doubt is common to animals, is linked up with the urge to make ourselves recognised by some other person, some witness, helper, rival or adversary who, whatever may be said, is needed to integrate the self, but whose place in the field of consciousness can vary almost indefinitely.

If this analysis as a whole is correct, it is necessary to see what I call my ego in no way as an isolated reality, whether it be an element or a principle, but as an emphasis which I give, not of course to the whole of my experience, but to that part of it which I want to safeguard in a special manner against some attack or (16) possible infringement. It is in this sense that the impossibility of establishing any precise frontiers of the ego has been often and rightly pointed out. This becomes clear as soon as one understands that the ego can never be thought of as a portion of space. On the other hand, it cannot be repeated often enough that, after all, the self is here, now; or at any rate there are such close affinities between these facts that we really cannot separate them. I own that I cannot in any way conceive how a being for whom there was neither a here nor a now could nevertheless appear as “I.” From this it follows paradoxically enough that the emphasis of which I have spoken cannot avoid tending to conceive of itself as an enclosure, that is to say as exactly the thing it is not; and it is only on deeper reflection that it will be possible to detect what is deceptive in this localisation.