Tales of the unconscious: Finding out who you really are

The remark by Irad Kimhi I posted the other day is at once creepy and profound. It is also more familiar than it at first appears; think of the stories and narrative methods employed in the following:

In several television shows and films, a character's everyday ego (his I) is unaware of who he really is. He really is a saboteur or a murderer, another person, and so on. Think of "The 4400" (Kyle Baldwin, son of the putz secret agent protagonist); "Angel Heart" (Harry Angel); "Battlestar Galactica" (the false surface consciousness of Sharon "Boomer" Valeri, as in Episode 1x3, "Water"); "Fight Club" (the narrator); "Evil Dead" (Ash's hand, which went bad, so he had to cut it off).

A different kind of thing-beneath-you is the fascinating depiction of the Echo-consciousness in Joss Whedon's current going concern "Doll House." Echo is perhaps a being underneath the surface of Caroline, the woman who semi-voluntarily gave up her body for five years for employment as a doll. In the first season finale,

Rumour of the Hidden King: Irad Kimhi

This is just a short note of a kind of introduction, but not to me. I am not very familiar with academic blogs, though I know they exist. The point here is just to say a few words about Irad Kimhi. Kimhi is an Israeli philosopher who had taught in both the United States and Israel. In the mid-1990's he was an assistant professor in the Philosophy Department at Yale. He has guest-taught courses on a couple of occasions for the Committee on Social Thought at the University of Chicago. As I understand it, his regular gig is to teach courses in Tel Aviv in Israel. His name and reputation are well known among a fairly small group of cognoscenti, including friends, colleagues and former students (like myself). He has a kind of magical reputation to him, unique as far as I know in the academic world: He has not to my knowledge published a book and I don't know that he has published even any articles, but several of his draft manuscripts circulate privately among ravenous devotees of his thought. When he taught courses at the U of C this past Autumn and Winter, established, famous professors sat in on the classes and took notes as eagerly as the attendant graduate students.