Mannequin: Who am I, really. Can you tell me?
Man in Mirror: Who knows? Your image is a game, an illusion. Play with it, make a work of art out of ?, be free.
Mannequin: What about my identity?
Man in Mirror: You can't rely on appearances. You have a number of faces, just like a portrait of Picasso. Pass through the mirror, un objet.
Mannequin: Well, at the moment, I can't actually move.
Man in Mirror: Eh, that is true that you are kind of frozen. As a reflection, that doesn't give me much room to maneuver. I would more like — a page in a magazine. But at least , I am speaking!
Mannequin: Shhh. Not so loud. Someone is looking at us. Let's continue to be still. I don't want to get involved with the crowd. I am not good at it, you know–small talk. It's not my thing.
Man in Mirror: Yeah. Just smile and be pretty.
Mannequin: Oh, by the way, you look very handsome.
Man in Mirror: So do you.
hoofdstuk 7, 8, Polonius, Baudelaire ('Un homme épouvantable entre et se regarde dans la glace')
hoofdstuk 13, § 4, p 7, p. 19, p. 21
Lacan, Gaultier, automaton