Most of those who are attracted to read They do this for one of two reasons: either because of the title of the text or by the signature whose writes. Both are Namespresentations that somehow anticipate, identify or point to something in the world. The name It is just a word, yes, but it is probably the expression most magical and mysterious of them all.
It has the ability to adhere to any person and condition their interactions.
The Names are inevitably linked to the identityalthough no one explains this relationship. When someone asks who you are, most people people They respond with your nameBut is that really who we are? I don’t feel that saying my name comes close to saying who I am, just as when I look in a mirror I don’t feel like I’m really seeing myself. They seem like masks and symbols, but what do they have to do with what guides my actions and what I feel inside? There is something, but no one knows what it is and linguists don’t even know how to get into the phenomenon.
Shakespeare asked himself, “What’s in a name? What we call a rose would smell as sweet by any other name.” But Shakespeare was wrong. And to say that, to say that someone with the name Shakespeare is wrong seems more serious than to say that someone with a name common mistake. These are not simply distinctive marks to refer to something, they are carriers of all kinds of associations, meanings and connotations, sounds and shapes that work together to form a network of meaning.
I once had a cat. I would say his name, but he never had a name. I didn’t want a word to separate me from him and mediate our relationship. I wanted him to be a part of me and merge with me, without language dividing us. I avoided referring to him by name in conversations with other people, but if I had to I would inevitably refer to him as “the cat” or “my cat.” He never answered my calls because I didn’t have a way to call him directly. One rainy day I came home to my apartment and, after looking for him, realized that he had jumped from the fifth floor.
He survived. But the point is that the name is decisive. I have no doubt that if that cat had had one, his life would have been better. Perhaps he would not have felt the need to jump from a fifth floor and now he would be at my parents’ house, with other cats that have names. I had to give him away. I could not continue with him. I have no doubt that his new family finally baptized him with a name.
That cat never existed. Or it did, but when something exists without a name, it barely exists at all. It began to exist once it had a name, before that it was just latent meaning, meowing around, climbing on the couches. Before the words, this writing only existed as a shapeless mass in my head. But it was the words that helped me get it out, give it shape and be able to present something that readers can read. Such is the power of words.
What do names do to us?
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