Marginalia, no.233

Every one was a little someone else.

~ Henry James, The Great Good Place

I like to think we’re given middle names to acknowledge the transdimensional interloper that manages to occupy precisely our little corner of space-time all our lives. This is the person who is us but never quite ourself and who, if we’re not careful, will make a fool of us and get us into all kinds of trouble. By naming him, perhaps, we keep him in bounds. But woe to them that go by their middle names.

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