A capacity for interiority in the growing adult is threatened by the temptation to squander that capacity ruthlessly, to revel in hollowness. The syndrome especially plagues anyone who lives behind a mask. An Elephant in her disguise as a human princess, a Scarecrow with painted features, a glittering tiara under which to glow and glide in anonymous glamour. A witch's hat, a Wizard's showbiz display, a cleric's stole, a scholar's gown, a soldier's dress sartorials. A hundred ways to duck the question: how will I live with myself now that I know what I know?
( Gregory Maguire )
[ Son of a Witch ]
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