Giorgio Agamben has a beautiful essay on genius, in which he aims to show how genius designates not something we possess, but rather something that possesses us:
"Genius was the name the Latins gave to the god to whom each man was placed under tutelage from the moment of his birth. The etymology is transparent and still visible in Italian in the proximity between
genio (genius) and
generare (to generate). That Genius must have had something to do with generation is otherwise evident from the fact that the object pre-eminently considered ‘ingenious’ (‘
geniale’) by the Latins was the bed:
genialis lectus, because the act of generation was accomplished in bed. And sacred to Genius was the day of one’s birth, which because of this, is still called
genetliaco in Italian. The gifts and the banquets with which we celebrate birthdays are, despite the odious and by now inevitable English refrain, a trace of the festivities and sacrifices which Roman families offered to Genius on the occasion of the birthdays of their family members. Horace speaks of pure wine, a two month-old suckling pig, a lamb “immolato”, that is, covered in sauce for its sacrifice; but it seems that, initially there was only incense, wine, and delicious honey focaccia, because Genius, the god who presided at birth, did not welcome bloody sacrifices.
...But this most intimate and personal of gods is also the most impersonal part of us, the personalization of that, within us, which surpasses and exceeds ourselves. “Genius is our life, in as much as it was not given origin by us, but gave us origin”. If he seems to identify himself with us, it is only in order to reveal himself immediately afterwards as something more than ourselves, in order to show us that we ourselves are more and less than ourselves. To comprehend the concept of man which is implicit in Genius, means to understand that man is not only ‘I’ and individual consciousness (
coscienza), but that from the moment of his birth to that of his death he lives instead with an impersonal and pre-individual component. That is, man is a unique being in two phases, a being who is the result of the complicated dialectic between one side not (yet) singled out (
individuata) and lived, and another side already marked by fate and by individual experience.
But the part that is impersonal and not isolated (
individuata) is not a chronological past which we have left behind once and for all, and which we can, eventually, recall through memory. It is always present in us and with us and from us, in good times or bad times; it is inseparable. The face of Genius is that of a young man, his long restless wings signify that he does not know time, that when he is very close to us we feel him as a shiver, just as when we were children we felt his breath upon us and his wings beat our feverish temples like a present without memory. This means a birthday cannot be the commemoration of a day that has passed, but like every true festival, it entails the abolition of time, the epiphany and the presence of Genius. And this presence that cannot be separated from us, that prevents us from enclosing ourselves in a substantial identity, is Genius who breaks apart the pretext of the ‘I’ that it is sufficient for itself alone."
The
whole essay is only six pages long, but totally worth the read.