No.163. Anti-Narcissus. Five years ago, he had painted a very large self-portrait. This morning he got it out again--and was utterly dismayed by what he saw. The painting loomed up over him like a cloud bank, threatening, horribly belligerent and jocose, an arrogant, toxic clown, a Lord of Misrule. Was he ever like this? Surely the portrait was now a likeness of somebody else entirely?