He is another one at the job, another one at home, another one at an evening out with his friends, another one at night as a lover, another one here, another one there, another one with this one, another one with that one, and so on and on. And so on in every part of life or the world.
The emphasis being: another, everywhere and every time another. Every time, he wears another mask. Everywhere. As it is written down in Carnival. The novel undoubtedly incorporates this very meaning as well, but at the same time the analysis of Zoltán Danyi still remains valid.
(So you say that Michael Winemaster—
Let’s not jump in it yet—
Since all being another—)
Life has only one moment you cannot laugh at, you cannot cheat, you cannot avoid either this way or that way or in any other kinds of ways. That was the reason for Michael Winemaster being able to narrate his own death. As all those characters that had appeared before, with all their switches of minds, and all their little ways had only originated in the false perception of “another one”. This one or that one but another one. Just the same as death can only be the death of this one or that one. All masks fall off at the moment of answering the question, the question having arisen at seeing the plentitude of masks: (if all those are another ones, then) who am I?