Our identity is the way we dress, we express, we are shown to this world. What about other self that lives in us? This identity which strives us to improve ourselves, craves us for love and so many other things that make what we are.
Where is our Identity? Is it lies what we do? Do the emotions define our Identity? Why one’s Identity necessary to define the person?
As kid we have an Identity is totally different from the Identity while we are growing up. In teenage, we have another Identity, rebel type. In adolescence, in between rebel-understanding Identity. When we complete our education, got a job, professionally we create another Identity. In old age we have an Identity which is an accumulative of all our Identities. Then which identity is true and ours to define ourselves?
For me, Kundera’s works are always something revealing and reading about myself. Same with his book “Identity”. I was reading this book; I was trying to gathering information on myself. So this small book of somewhat 150 pages took me whole day to read and another day to write about it.
While writing this review, I know this not a review as far concerning a book-review; I am brooding on what's my Identity? Reading, writing, my work-designing being a designer, living far from family, longing for this girl I love. Are these only concocted my Identity? Are these only part of it or anything else is there, I don’t know, for me to say this is “me”. This is my Identity.
All I can say read Kundera. If you can, re-read him (which I will do again in my life). Still you can manage, have a long discussion about him (Kundera’s Identity is his words).