On the topic of postmodernism, specifically postmodern subjectivity, Geyh, Leebron and Levy argue that, in contrast to classically held philosophical beliefs that the nature of the self was to exist as a unified subject,

What Geyh, Leebron and Levy are positing is that while major trends in ideas from the past looked at the “self” as a solid and fixed identity, (post)modern trends in ideology describe the self as “fragmented” and “unfixed.”  With that in mind, a few questions then follow. In what way or ways does the “self” exist as fragmented and unfixed? Can there be a real self if identity is unfixed? If not, is identity merely a simulation or façade? These questions are examined in the works of novelists Don DeLillo and Paul Auster, whose books White Noise and City of Glass, respectively, engage in questions on the state of individual identity infused with some ideas concerning postmodern philosophy.
   
In White Noise the main character Jack Gladney assumes the role of a constructed persona, an identity separate from his original “born” (in the case of a fictional character, “born into the narrative”) identity, and he becomes insecure when he finds himself outside of the constructed identity. In City of Glass the main character Quinn also assumes the role of a constructed persona, yet Quinn is flexible and ultimately assumes one persona after another with no attachment to any single role in particular. If the difference between Jack and Quinn concerning identity is that Jack desires to hold on to a single identity while Quinn has no such desire, then what is similar between the two is that they are both unable to maintain any single fixed identity, and also the identities/personas that they gravitate towards are artificial and simulated. 
    
Both Jack and Quinn, through their employment and manipulation of different personas, demonstrate the concept of the fragmented self. There is no single one of the multiple identities that they use that can be applied to them as their “real” identity in the (pre-postmodernist) unified sense, one which would give the picture of the whole of their being. Jack Gladney adopts the persona J.A.K Gladney, which he wears like a “borrowed suit”, to work as a professor of Hitler studies. Jack does this in order to control the fear of death that his “born” self cannot control. Being J.A.K. gives him an air of “dignity, significance and prestige” (17). As Jack’s associate Murray tells him, “You wanted to be helped…On one level you wanted to conceal yourself in Hitler and his works. On another level you wanted to use him to grow in significance and strength.” (287) Almost contradictory, Murray seems to suggest that Jack’s persona gives him both an escape from his fears and the strength to confront them. What Murray may also be suggesting is that the J.A.K. persona gives Jack a more solid identity than his born self does, even though it is essentially a simulation. Jack says of himself and his persona, “I am the false character that follows the name around” (17), which both admits to J.A.K. being a mere simulation, and also hints at his born self being something of a “false character” as well. Perhaps neither of the two personas is “true,” ruling out the possibility of a true self.
   
In a helpful parallel, one of the ways Jack transforms into J.A.K. is by putting on a pair of dark glasses, an action analogous to the unnamed protagonist of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (a novel also rich in questions of identity) who slips on a pair of dark sunglasses and assumes the role of the Harlem get-about Rinehart. Of his transformation, Ellison’s character states, “I walked, struck by the merging fluidity of forms seen through the lenses.” (491) Like Ellison’s protagonist, when Jack puts on his persona he comes to see his environment differently, as he is a different person. Having control of his fears means to him better functioning and finding no barriers in his way, he tells his wife that he “can’t teach Hitler without them” (221). Jack sees the fluidity of his life when he engages in the fluidity of his identity.
   
The question then arises, how well does creating a new identity for himself help control his fear? Despite efforts, Jack is never able to fully become his persona. He is reminded of this when his co-worker runs into him at a store and sees Jack for the first time out of his guise, saying, “You look so harmless . . . a big, harmless, aging, indistinct sort of guy” (83). Later he faces the problem head on when he can no longer manage his fear of death with J.A.K. alone, and attempts to shift roles again. Discussing Jack’s fear, Murray suggests that Jack go from being a “dier” to being a killer. Murray tells him, “It’s a way of controlling death . . . Be the killer for a change. Let someone else be the dier. Let him replace you, theoretically, in that role” (291). When Jack does make his attempt switch roles, he is unable to fully adopt the killer role as well, coming close to murdering his nemesis Willie Mink, but ultimately rushing him to the hospital after shooting him twice. Jack’s situation and inability to completely become J.A.K. or a killer dually suggests that the individual identity is in constant flux, and that these adopted roles are not permanent solutions to the problems of life and (post)modernity.
   
Taking up the idea of the problems of modernity, it must be noted that neither Jack’s problem nor his solution are in any way new issues that trouble mankind. The fear of death has throughout the centuries lain heavy on the minds of those with enough spare time to tend to it. Along with his fear of mortal death, mankind has sought out myriad ways to stave off the offender, to achieve an abstract immortality. Civilizations have done this with great monuments, artists with paint and sculpture, authors with text. The concept is that the work is an extension of its creator, and by the work outlasting the creator’s death, so too will the creator outlive their own death. Hitler is a model of immortality for Jack because the historical identity that Hitler created through his actions will long outlive Hitler himself.
   
However, though Jack’s problem and solution may not be new, his method of solution is. Jack is not attempting to attain immortality by creating a work outside of himself, he is attempting to create a work of himself. He alters his physical appearance to embody the immortal persona so that he himself will outlive his own death. This concept is addressed in the section on the airborne toxic event, where Jack is infected with Nyodene D, the personification of death, and states, “I’ve got death inside me. It’s just a question of whether or not I can outlive it.” (150) Everyone’s body eventually starts to decay, so everyone has, in a loose way, death inside of them. Jack’s desire is to physically manifest himself into his constructed persona, as his constructed persona is not composed of temporary human flesh and has the potential for immortality.
   
Jack’s separation between a born and a simulated self also protects him from and reflects his environment, which seems to often be confused between reality and simulation. The SIMUVAC company uses the real situation of the airborne toxic event to rehearse (or simulate) future simulations of emergency evacuations that they are going to run. The SIMUVAC worker complains to Jack that the inconsistent conditions of reality don’t provide for ideal simulation conditions, where everything can be planned and mapped and directed. This concept of the intention of simulation is a reversal of common understanding, for here the simulation is more important than reality, the flaws and unpredictability of reality being a hindrance to a successful simulation as opposed to the shortcomings of simulation being a hindrance to a real situation. As Jean Baudrillard claims in his essay Simulacra and Simulations, “It is no longer a question of imitation, nor of reduplication . . . It is rather a question of substituting signs of the real for the real itself . . .” (170). Thus as the ideal for SIMUVAC is to replace the real with the simulated, it would be ideal for Jack to replace his “original” self with his projected, improved simulated self.
   
If adaptation, or evolution, is key to survival, then surely in a world where simulation masks or replaces reality it is in the best interest of the individual to mask or replace their born self with a simulated self. City of Glass’ main character, Daniel Quinn, has a chameleon-like prowess for adopting simulated selves and realities. Taking identity transformation further than White Noise, as the narrative progresses Quinn’s identity becomes so increasingly fluid and confused that the reader is ultimately led to wonder if a “real” Quinn ever existed. By the end of the story the Quinn that the reader thought existed is reduced to the possibility of being a literary creation of another character in the text. Thus the personas that Quinn takes on are likely to be as real, if not more so, than Quinn himself. This idea is enhanced by Baudrillard’s concept of the successive phases of the image, where eventually the simulation “masks the absence of a basic reality” (173). Thus the existence of Quinn under his personas is not relevant since the personas will naturally replace him.
   
Where Jack needs his J.A.K. persona for strength to confront the world, Quinn seems to create and take on his personas specifically so that he can recede from the world. Quinn creates the detective novelist persona William Wilson, who then creates the detective character Max Work, and it is said that “Work continued to live in the world with others, and the more Quinn seemed to vanish, the more persistent Work’s presence in that world became.” (16) This would correspond to the idea of man creating a “work” to replace his extinguished existence in the world, but Quinn’s concerns do not involve immortality. Indeed, Quinn already feels “as if he had managed to outlive himself, as if he were living a posthumous life” (11).
   
While the identity of Quinn is gradually reduced down to a concept, none of the other identities that the character Quinn adopts become any more of a solid identity for him to fully take on, and his identity becomes nothing more than a linear series of fragments, spiraling down into his eventual disappearance. There is no way to piece together the fragments Quinn becomes to construct a whole identity, there is no sum of all the parts. In his narrative Auster provides a concept of identity being unfixed and simulated to such a degree that the idea of a “real self” is unnecessary, certainly leaving “open-ended explanations for what was previously believed to be a unified phenomenon” (Geyh, Leebron and Levy, xxvi). If Quinn is reacting to his own environment like Jack is to his, it might then say that the nature of “reality” in Quinn’s world is so unfixed and simulated that it only exists as a confusion of fragments.
   
What both White Noise and City of Glass contribute to the discourse on modern identity is the concept that identity is not ingrained; it can be created and manipulated, constructed and deconstructed. Human identity is reactionary to the human environment, and the conditions of the second determine the status of the first. While being dramatic fictional exaggerations, both Jack and Quinn illustrate that flexibility in behavior and action are needed for adapting to changes in a rapidly growing and altering society whose “reality”, when it is not called into question entirely, is in constant transit. If the nature and validity of reality must be called into question, we must be able to question and play with the nature and validity of our identities themselves in order to evaluate and answer those quandaries of postmodernism.         

Copyright 2003 Ian King.  Essay used with author's permission.
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