The Spirit of Narcissus and Modern Man

Despite the fact that 'modern man' doesn't believe in myths, this is probably the most narcissistic age in history and social media doesn't help!

From The European Conservative

By Veronica Lademan

What we see in the world of artifice—on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook—is the substitution of the person with a manufactured icon; a shallow image reflected back in the clear pool.

Myth and modernity are at odds with each other. The disenchanted man, buffered by science and smartphones, is inclined to view ancient stories as the backward ramblings of peoples embedded in foolish superstition. While it is true that myth is not concerned with the factual sphere of knowledge that we are so comfortable with, it does uniquely dramatize human life in its emotional and relational complexity. In these stories our struggles and confusions, hopes and triumphs, are named and explored. As Dwight Longenecker writes, they are “story that incarnates great values and eternal truths operates as myth,” and through them “our eyes and hearts are opened to new realities and our quotidian lives are impressed with eternal significance.”

Ovid’s Metamorphoses is a preeminent source of ancient myth. The escapades of men, gods, dryads, nymphs, and centaurs hold within their fantastical plots “story that incarnates great values and eternal truths.” This enchanted world, far removed from our own technological frenzy, holds insight into human joys and agonies today. An exploration of this poet’s myth often reveals that the personal and cultural crises we face are not new, although they are expressed in uniquely modern ways.

Perhaps one of the most vicious social plagues we face today is a general deterioration in mental and emotional resilience. Depression, anxiety, personality disorders, and gender dysphoria are spreading rapidly among an increasingly listless population. These conditions are explored and expounded upon in the field of psychology. Insight into behavioral patterns and neurological wirings has allowed practitioners to develop effective response and treatment. However, scientific inquiry is, by definition, limited and impersonal; it cannot give a narrative account of the unfolding of these illnesses in the overall flow and wholeness of a human life and the human person.

It is here that myth—and literature generally—allows for deeper personal exploration. It speaks to us in a language that addresses our whole person. In a time of increasing mental distress, these stories transform psychological fact into a personal narrative. Perhaps one of the clearest examples of this is in the emerging psychological epidemic of narcissism. This condition derives its name from Ovid’s retelling of the story of Narcissus. It is a grotesque tragedy of a man so deeply enamored of himself that he loses his place in the world and amongst his fellow man and slowly spirals into depersonalized oblivion. This myth allows the reader to go beyond the list of behavioral patterns and data that psychology provides; it delves into the flesh-and-blood reality of how destructive the condition is and the fatal consequences it has upon the human spirit.

Narcissus in a New World

Narcissus was a man of unsurpassed beauty, who left behind him a trail of disappointed lovers. Among his scorned admirers was a nymph, Echo, whose undying passion for him only fed his all-consuming egoism. Guilty of an infraction against Jupiter’s jealous wife, Echo was cursed by Juno to lose her voice and to spend her life mimicking others. Her misfortune served Narcissus well; her unrequited love doomed her to endlessly echo the affirmation of a man whose only purpose was to affirm himself.

One day, lost on a hunt, closely trailed by the lovelorn Echo, Narcissus chanced upon his own reflection in a clear pool and became enamored of his beauty. He fell madly in love with himself. His longing sighs were reciprocated by the sighs of his ‘lover’; his emotions were mirrored by his phantasm. As Ovid writes, “All that is lovely in himself he loves, and in his witless way he wants himself: he who approves is equally approved; he seeks, is sought, he burns and he is burnt.” Yet, his ardor could not find fulfillment in his reflection’s mimicry. So he lingered at the pool and remained a slave to his unsatisfied obsession. Unable to tear himself away, he slowly withered and died, entirely alone save the voiceless Echo.

Narcissus naturally inspires revulsion. His demise was caused by a self-lust so powerful that he was cut off from the outside world. He would not venture out to encounter things and people as they are and so claim his place amongst them. He would not discover reality, but instead demanded that it discover him. Fed only by his obsession for “an imagined body which contains no substance,” he closed himself off from his fellow man, accepting nothing but endless veneration from a nymph whose identity was tied absolutely to his own. She could not call Narcissus out of the prison of his own making, but was bound to repeat back the narrative he told himself. So he collapsed inward and was consumed.

While Narcissus was an anomaly in the ancient world, our society increasingly models itself after his spirit. Self-indulgent atomization is imposed upon us by the very structures of modern life, characterized by instant gratification, the gospel of self-love, and a saturation in digital platforms that respond to our every whim. False fulfillment through self-worship is no longer merely the prerogative of disturbing myth; it is an aim towards which the social order strives.

Ever Deeper into the Pool

Social media platforms neatly repackage Narcissus’ reflection pool into individualized algorithmic feeds. As community is co-opted by social media, life lived within the confines of an ordered society is cast off as a needless constraint upon untrammeled individuality. This refashioning manipulates the definition of freedom. It claims that liberation from interpersonal expectation will allow for the emergence of the true individual, capable of authentically revealing himself without fear or inhibitions.

The gateway to this ultimate ‘freedom’ is through immersion into the digital mirror. Through it, we keep the other behind the screen. He is no longer discerned as a subject in his own right but is merely a receptacle of whatever thought or feeling we share or, perhaps more appropriately, impose upon our ‘followers.’ Liberated from the responsibilities that come with relationships, we are no longer hindered by custom, expectation, and consequences. The projected self is merely reflected in a digital mirror and echoed back.

This is the same destructive spiral that enslaved Narcissus. The promise that self-worship leads to self-fulfillment falters under the weight of a contradiction. A true expression of who one is does not take place through isolating ourselves within our own reflection; rather, its fulfillment is found in relationship with the other. Communication—which encompasses word, deed, and expression—derives its meaning from the Latin communicare, literally translated “to make common” or “to share.” Through interpersonal interaction, we extend ourselves to “make common” what is interior. Communication is fundamentally an invitation, which is not fulfilled in merely declaring who we are and demanding obedient acceptance. Rather, we draw one another out to a meeting place, where our reciprocal discovery reveals each as a unique individual.

The relational nature of communication reveals that man is most individual when he is most fully in relationship. As Sir Roger Scruton explains in his essay “Behind the Screen”:

I become fully myself only in the contexts which compel me to recognise that I am another in the other’s eyes … It is only by entering the world with its risks and responsibilities that I come to know myself as free, to enjoy my own perspective and individuality, and to become a fulfilled person among persons.

The spirit of Narcissus inverts this and cuts us off from the path to human flourishing. I cannot stand alone and formulate my personhood, isolated from the other who is able to see and understand me as a subject. Self-knowledge is not established in an internal and atomized fiat but through opening ourselves to be seen and discovered and to do likewise.

What we see in the world of artifice—on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook—is the substitution of the person with a manufactured icon; a shallow image reflected back in the clear pool. Each is so desperately focused on the projection of himself that he dulls his ability to enter into community. A people universally stripped of receptivity has no capacity to understand or be understood; we condemn ourselves to remain atoms clashing against one other in an anti-society of unremitting expression.

The more we turn inward, the more we render our language unheard and our expressions unseen. We are meant to seek the truth together, exploring alongside each other a world that can be known. This is what sets us apart from mere animality and instantiates within us the awareness of our own dignity. The myth of Narcissus illustrates what we risk when we reject our inherent dependence on each other.

Where language serves as the structured act of mutual discovery—both of the other and the outside world—narcissism distorts language into mere echo. As D.C. Schindler notes, in the digital pool we gaze into:

[Language] thus becomes a thing that can confuse as much as communicate, and whether it does one or the other is, ontologically speaking, a matter of indifference. When the technological means of communicating is made primary, the word tends to lose its “place,” as the “between” that unites the speaker and listener with reality, and therefore with each other.

The ontological indifference to language’s role means that the framework that ensures communication over confusion must be like any other rule or custom: an arbitrary structure that places an expectation on the individual to go beyond himself. Grammar is the structure of speech that “unites the speaker and the listener with reality, and therefore with each other.” The rules that structure the unique human faculty of speech allows us to communicate in free-flowing and coherent conversation. Like custom, it reminds us that we are most fully human when we act most fully in communion.

This reality presents a challenge to the spirit of Narcissus; in demanding an adherence to grammatical laws that open you to the other, one must recognize that speech, and by extension human nature, is not meant to exist merely in service of the self. Hamza Yusuf concisely diagnosed what the decay of this underlying structures costs us:

Grammar matters. Without it, we are matter without form; thought without substance; people without purpose; but most of all, alienated atoms in solipsistic silos, lamenting that no one understands us and we do not understand the world.

The All-Consuming Reflection

Isolation within “solipsistic silos” does not merely distort our use of language; it distorts the presence of the human person through his body. Just as Narcissus used his voice to worship himself, so he focused his vision to admire his body. He was entranced by the reflection, unable to tear himself away from it, “his eyes gleaming like stars … fixed on the mirrored image, never may know their longings satisfied, and by their sight he is himself undone.”

In modernity, self-expression is often conflated with the proliferation of the selfie. The shallow satisfaction that arises from ‘likes’ and flattering comments only affirms this obsession. The human body is not treated as a manifestation of the interior; instead, it becomes a thing to display. It is material that we fashion, hack, and hue until we feel a sense of ‘rest’ in what we see.

However, our bodies are not objects to be worshiped. Instead, as Scruton said, our “nature as an embodied person is the object of friendly feelings.” Our movement, the cast of our face, and the voluntary and involuntary expression of emotions reveals our self to the other as a subject. As we focus on each other, we enter into deeper intimacy. It is “precisely because attention is focused on the other there is an opportunity for self-knowledge … for the expanding freedom of standing in the presence of the other which is one of the joys of human life.” We most truly express ourselves when we turn our gaze outwards and towards the other.

Looking Upwards and Outwards

This narcissistic sentiment may point to the radical insecurity of a society divorced from the tradition that formed its bedrock and built its edifice. Cut off from our roots, many feel compelled to clamor for an identity that can stave off the existential dread of a shapeless life. Our algorithmic realms of alienation further separate us from the shared experiences of humans across time—an experience that is full of religious feeling, moral challenges, gray areas, and emotional and intellectual incertitude. This has left generations isolated from inheritance, without guidance or a life embedded in firm ground. Left only with absolute individualism, many seek security in self-divinization. In a crumbling world, one can set himself up as the center around which reality can cohere. The spirit of Narcissus may be a cry for a foundation to rest upon.

Our tradition pertains to man in his entirety: intellectual, emotional, and spiritual. Heritage is meant to inform us in ourselves: where we come from, who we are, and where we ought to aim ourselves. As Sir Roger Scruton explained, “culture is … a source of knowledge: emotional knowledge, concerning what to do and what to feel.” An immersion into this provides a framework for our lives, reminding us that we are not alone. Through it, we can communicate with those who shaped our culture and derive guidance and insight into the meaningful things in life. This is exactly what we participate in when we glean wisdom from ancient myth.

Without a sense of emerging into a heritage that is built for our participation, the link between the community of past, current, and future generations is strained under the burden of the lonely now. Narcissus teaches us this. For all the intensity of his longing, life slipped from his grasp. He withered and died, starved by his own isolated existence, plucked from the web of relations that would mark out his place in the world. The spirit of Narcissus leaves us “alienated atoms in solipsistic silos” bereft of the very relationships that gives shape to our individuality to begin with.

A cynical response to this would be to let those ensnared simply wither in their reflecting pools. Yet, the human person is made to know himself through the recognition that “I am another in the other’s eyes.” The heart craves relation, intimacy, and mutual knowledge. We are meant for belonging, to be drawn outside of ourselves and so stand as an individual amongst individuals participating in greater communion that spans across time.

This is one of our battles today. The human heart is our center; its return to a rooted identity in our heritage can lead to renewed flourishing. This sense of human purpose, one which intuitively recognizes the empty promise of self-worship, can be reawakened. Conservatives should invite our fellow humans to look up from the mirror and participate in a world where we stand reminded that we are far more wondrous than isolated reflections in a clear pool.