Reflection on masks

This is is a mask I received as a gift a few years ago, a decorative mask in papier-mâché, a strange mix of Venetian and primitive masks, made by a local artist in Chicoutimi. It is on the wall of my bedroom there.

I have blogged about masks before. It is a fascinating object: used to conceal identity, to create a character, for more prosaic, functional reasons, to decorate or a mix of many functions. Even the prosaic masks, say a surgeon mask or a gas mask, can be quite sinister in the proper circumstances. A mask is an artificial layer of skin that deforms or recreates features, or erases them. When a mask is worn, as I said in my previous blog, it reveals just as much as it hides. One of my favourite comic book characters, Batman, does not wear a mask to conceal his identity: it reveals it, it shows his true nature. Batman is the real persona, Bruce Wayne is the disguise. Of course, masks have been used in fiction to play this ambiguity between hiding and revealing. Think about Eyes Wide Shut (a criminally underrated movie). Masks should be used more often in fiction, they have such an evocative power.