The Intimacy of Miscommunication - "Identity" by Milan Kundera

Interpretation is the means of love. Interpretation is innate; it is the progression of a connection using assumption to some degree. It may be deliberate, but it is equally if not more telling when subconscious. Identity by Milan Kundera interprets personal likeness’s susceptibility to change. He explores how this tendency is triggered by relationships, even those exclusively within the mind. The case of Chantal and Jean-Marc opens with lovers, alternating perspectives with each chapter. As their closeness develops, the stakes rapidly increase, tangling the threads of their bond. The story begins grounded in reality, but the perspective becomes infinitely internal. Evident to the reader and eventually the duo themselves, a relationship can appear and be endured in entirely different ways based on life experience and expectation. The nature of this kind of acknowledged passion is to implode within itself and spiral over the metaphysical planes of connection.

The individual's relationship with self defines the root of categorized feelings between two people. A consistent theme throughout the novel is both Chantal and Jean-Marc not feeling assured with the people they claim to be, personally and interpersonally- the persona personification mutually performed to continue tolerating. This is evident for each character from the beginning. The short novel begins with the pair looking for one another in anticipation of a reunion.  On the beach, Chantal is enthralled with all of the fathers and their children who pay her no mind. This sends her on a decline of negative reflection, theorizing that she has lost the value in herself as the younger version of who she was has been outgrown, conscious choice or not. Jean-Marc later notices that there is something on her mind and she admits that “men don’t turn to look at me anymore” (Kundera 21). 

In Chantal’s mind, her past defines her. And she wants it to- constantly feeding the delusion that she has peeked and is now not as valuable. She is childless, not courted and desired by strangers as she once was. Post-revelation, these grievances dislodge her from emotional comfort and the fragile foundation of her mind. Her static perspective of youth as her prime leaves no room for growth. Stubbornness laps the sands of her evolution, abhorring the ability to utilize present experience for future reference. Hence, love begins to erode. This thought of hers is a betrayal of Jean-Marc, it is not innocent and coming from her view of the person she is, but is weighed by the attention she gets from others, specifically men.

Chantal’s internal dialogue mutters so ceaselessly beneath her mind that it actualizes as her actions, conflicting with the externally expressed insecurities of Jean-Marc. Identically, his instigational moment of instability of self is also on the beach, but after Chantal had left. He runs towards a woman who, from afar, is mistaken to be her and appears as if she is going to be hit by a speeding yacht. The boat turns, as he realizes it is someone else entirely. He is deeply shaken by this experience and it leaves him feeling flustered as he cannot trust his eyes- he could not concede her likeness. Promptly the experience is repeated, although this time an illusory state. In the dream he identifies a woman as Chantal, and once again upon reaching her she has a different face, but in this case the woman still is Chantal. This is indicative of the realized horror of not “knowing” (meaning interpreting) his lover. Once lucid and reunited, “he grasps her, holds her to his body, and, sobbing, he chants ‘Chantal, my little Chantal, my little Chantal,’ as if he hoped by repeating the words to infuse this transformed face with its old, vanished look, its vanished identity” (Kundera 34). Based on his extreme reaction to these subconscious ideals, he considers how the understanding of a loved one changes based on recognition. Is Chantal not herself if appearing different; is this adaptation a reflection of something internal not yet known by him? 

Chantal’s admission of yearning for attention and for her past self leads Jean-Marc to write her a love letter, anonymously as to revere her while making it seem sincere and unbiased. Initially she is upset, cautiously unsure if this praise is reliable. But, she does not tell him of the emotional prose, changing the dynamic of the situation entirely. Not as originally planned, the letters of affection continued to flow. The second letter is considerably lengthier and more specifically recalling her movements through the day, distinguishing specific quirks and analyzing the details of her existence. This letter is signed with initials, giving Chantal enough information to actualize the fantastical identity, while deliberately withholding anything that could identify her partner. Chantal bathes in the feeling of being studied and desired, convinced of her own morality, justified by the facelessness of suddenly theoretical words. 

Fueled by lust from an anonymous admirer, Chantal gains confidence and a false sense of discretion, entirely convoluted and not unnoticed by Jean-Marc. The letters become more French, transferring to the couple’s physical relationship as a divine sexual energy and passion, previously dormant. But, as Pseudonymous continues to serenade, Chantal flourished via this façade, inducing a disconnect in Jean-Marc. He is unable to appreciate her change in attitude, reformed by the fallacy. Not gripped by the ghost or subsumed by her secrets, but labored by the lawlessness born of appreciative epistles- enough to alter. What degree of weakness constitutes an equally extreme transformation? Or has she finally been set free? Does the answer concern him if his feelings remain changed?

Desperate to determine, Jean-Marc becomes hooked after writing the second letter, unable to look away from Chantal’s metamorphosis. Engaged, he perpetuates mutual tension, facing consequence without directly addressing circumstance. He swaps lenses as monocles, viewing Chantal from outside of himself, seeing her as a character. The less stable his idea of her, the more he has moved on, streaming her as a collection of present memories. To him, Chantal is but a simulacrum of a woman loved. She is intangible and irredeemable- there is not a thread through her soul that connects her consciousness. The trust she has in their love begins to falter, wondering whether Jean-Marc wrote the letters thinking she may be led into a trap. 

Through her changes, “Chantal is unfamiliar; that Chantal is not the woman he loves'' (Kundera 113). He goes as far as to doubt her in imagined situations, fantasizing about her life with another man. He manifests a new existence for her, one she accepts: anything to get away from who she knows herself as now, and closer to the beautiful woman she mourns in the mirror’s memory. He challenges himself with this realization for if she is not loved, he is not a lover. 

There is not a defined point in the story where there is a universal shift from reality to fantasy, but it is at this point in the story where the fantastic cannot be denied. The three dimensional storyline passes by intensely erotic dreams and largely invisible orgies. These plainly unreal tribulations are hyperbolic, reflecting the ridiculousness of the premises of these miscommunications.  This is the depth the mind is willing to endure to interpret a new feeling, or to return to one familiar. The rest of the book is a fever dream, a frantic quest by train in pursuit of versions of one another that may have never existed at all. 

Awaking from the dream of Identity, the reader is left disoriented, suddenly jerked from REM and faced with irrefutable consciousness. Unsure of when they fell asleep, they recall the plot which morphs into memory as they continue to do so. Left alone with their reflections and interpretations, the reader too loses sight of what they are overthinking versus what they know to be true. Kundera orchestrates a symphony of relationships, between characters, himself,  and the reader, a rhythmic bassline of misunderstanding keeping the beat.

Miscommunication of this caliber is intimate by definition. Assumption requires an extensive understanding of another. A misguided interpretation is an interpretation convoluted by an incorrect assumption that affects are fully realized. With an unquestionable level of trust comes a natural end to questioning one another, to prioritizing clarification and intent.  

In an anti-Kunderian fashion, he does not dwell long upon the questions he raises about blurred lines of reality. He is opposing the standard expected of him, by those accustomed to his work, anticipating a delve of philosophy that does not come. Putting aside any significance of the work, there lies the theory of a feeling, how within us they are removed and fully fabricated despite impact. Contradicting his other stories, this narrative poses complex existential ideas as an intentional means of juxtaposing the linear plot. 

This novel is less regarded in his career than many of his others, though just as provocative. Going through a similar existential experience as the characters themselves is the most accurate way of drawing a reader in and having them interpret the characters’ emotions to the fullest extent. The novel arouses self-reflection for me, a gaze at the areas of my psyche in which I am confident, and that in which would change based on a minute external circumstance, whether for the sake of insecurity or performance. 

Love theorized by Kundera and digested through unstable characters left to the misinterpretation of the reader is dehumanizing. Rehumanizing? Left with that which you are sure of within yourself. But, how can you be sure? Despite everything you think you know about yourself, how much of that would change in an instant? Are you even aware of the necessary circumstances that would endorse this change? Are you willing to lose yourself in order to find out?