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Emaline Friedman – Arrested by the Preface: Lacanian Discourse Analysis and the Speaking Subject

Arrested by the Preface: Lacanian Discourse Analysis and the Speaking Subject

Emaline Friedman
University of West Georgia
2013

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Abstract

The following is an account of how prefaces, or utterances meant to preempt further speech, aid the development of Lacanian discourse analysis. The preface is conceptualized as a moment of speaking where the Imaginary and Symbolic are recoiled, giving the discourse analyst insight into the truth of the speaking subject. This point is articulated alongside an explication of a few concepts in Lacanian psychoanalytic theory that render the preface important. Other facets of Lacanian discourse analysis are approached along the way, including methodological woes, aims, and the challenges it faces as a result of (1) emerging, chronologically, amongst an array of discourse analytic perspectives hailing from psychology’s turn-to-language and (2) positing a wholly different conception of the speaking subject from those other discourse analytic perspectives.

 

Introduction

The following is an account of the “preface”, a moment in speech when a subject qualifies or preempts a longer, forthcoming utterance, from the perspective of Lacanian Discourse Analysis (e.g., Cuéllar 2010; Frosh, 2002; Frosh, Phoenix & Pattman, 2003; Hook, 2003, 2008; Parker, 2005a, 2010). The thesis of this paper is that the preface is a useful key in guiding the execution of Lacanian discourse analyses. First, I will elaborate a few constituents of a Lacanian theory of discourse relevant for the purposes of this piece, the Other as a series of paradoxes, the Imaginary register, and the Symbolic register as a system of exchange. These three concepts will be crucial in recognizing the value for Lacanian discourse analysts of employing the preface as an analytic tool. Then, the function of the preface will be considered through a discourse psychological perspective as a means for distinguishing a Lacanian notion of subjectivity through discourse from more common conceptions of subjectivity in discourse analysis. Against this backdrop, the preface will be characterized as a moment in speech that guides toward a type of analysis in line with Lacan’s conception of discourse and the types of subjectivity and sociality that it entails.

By constituting a moment of suspension where the Imaginary and the Symbolic are recoiled together, the preface will shed light on the constitution of the speaking subject as locatable in the structural elements of his or her speech. In addition to its utility in analyzing actual speech, the preface will function to urge discourse analysts to continually question their own versions of speakers’ subjectivities. Theorized as both an analytic guidepost for the discourse analyst and vulnerable moment of suspension for the speaking subject, the preface is used here as a methodological development for Lacanian discourse analysts as well as an inevitable, structural component of speech that affirms the emergence of the speaking subject between necessity and nonsense. Further, it will be shown to provide a strong foundation for unpacking stylistic nuances and quirks that adequately addresses the complex situation of the speaking subject and his or her implication in and through the structure of speech.

Throughout the piece, I will also use the preface as a platform for discussing a few concerns, values, and aims of Lacanian discourse analysis. Since acts of prefacing are typically of more structural import than they are rich with what discourse analysts may be tempted to deem ‘meaningful content’, the preface is as valuable a tool in the practice of Lacanian discourse analysis as it is in theorizing its commitments. These commitments, to certain notions of subjectivity, truth, and knowledge, will be cast in distinction from the commonplace assumptions of discourse psychology. The vaguely comparative flavor of this paper is not meant to contribute to the discussion of the different merits and pitfalls of each tradition. I am more interested here in setting the scene of discourse analytic research in psychology in order to invite thought about the execution of Lacanian discourse analyses via what will be proposed as a useful tool to tailor to this particular style of discourse analytic research.

 

The Imaginary

For the purposes of explaining some of the theoretical differences between Lacanian discourse analysis and other discourse analytic traditions that borrow from Anglo-American psychological concepts, I will give a brief overview of the Imaginary, one of the three registers on which Lacanian psychoanalytic theory is centered. The “Imaginary” in Lacan completes the trifecta of registers, “Real”, “Symbolic”, and the “Imaginary”. Each of these dimensions functions in total complementarity with the others, serving, in concert, the topology of the Lacanian subject. The Imaginary will be unpacked apart from the Real, not included in this piece, so that the elements that most impact the considerations of discourse analysis are made salient. The Symbolic will be referenced heavily here before a full elucidation in the next section because neither of these registers temporally precedes another in speech production. Taking each register as a separate starting point for discussing their interrelation will illuminate different facets of this interrelation. It will become clear that the subject of Lacanian discourse analysis is the subject of the enunciated instances of intersection of the Imaginary and the Symbolic registers.

The Imaginary register is based on identification, and stems from the formation of the ego during the mirror stage. In the mirror stage, the subject identifies with his or her own image seen, for the first time, as dissociated from the body. The choice of the word “Imaginary” for this register is based in the Latin “imago”, meant to connote that the Imaginary is concerned with the image (Fink, 1995). More specifically, it features identification with an image that ultimately alienates the subject from the body. Due to the alienating distance created in this stage, the ego emerges to assuage the traumatic difference between self and other by means of ideals with which the person may identify. In this sense, the Imaginary stems from the subject’s original relationship to the body, and the texture of this relationship for any subject will depend upon the unique way that the alienating image with which the he or she identifies is discreetly contorted by demands of the Other, discussed below.

Even as a realm of appearances, the Imaginary is structured by the Symbolic because of its execution through language. We can think operation in the Imaginary register as having to travel through the structural mandates of language and the system of exchange in the Symbolic order. Due to this necessary passage through language, the ideals and identifications that would have emerged, based upon the image that creates the ego in the mirror stage, are unrealizable or consistently miss the mark. These ideals and identifications are unrealizable precisely because of their expression in symbolization. At this point we can see that another meaning of “imaginary” comes from the fact that the subject imagines that these ideals (i.e. meaning) are actually possible to convey in speech. Speaking subjects, then, have no alternative but to operate under the fundamental illusion of the Imaginary, that signification and signified meanings will unearth their truths. In the Imaginary, or the domain proper to the ego, subjects continually attempt to cement their identities by reducing the traumatic difference between self and other to individual identities in the form of ideal images (Julien, 1995).

When Imaginary relations are spoken of in Lacanian discourse theory, we are not dealing with relationships that do not actually exist between subjects. Rather, imaginary relations are relations between egos, each one based on many ideal images emerging as demand from the Other. In that these ego relations are subject to the structural mandates of language, making perfect expression impossible, all social relationships where speech is used for communication can be considered part of the Imaginary register.

The Symbolic and the Imaginary interlock as two sides of language, as the signifier in the Symbolic, and signified in the Imaginary. The emergence of the speaking subject, the subject of Lacanian discourse analysis, occurs at the intersections of these two registers, made apparent through how language is used (and, as we will see, how language is using). The abstract, theoretical relationship between the Symbolic and the Imaginary must be filled in by analyses of the particularities of subjects’ speech. Lacanian discourse analysis, and more specifically, treatment of the preface should be dedicated to developing an account of how this theoretical relationship is manifested in speech and reformulated in line with the ostensive, ideal self of the Imaginary. Where the Imaginary strives toward fixity, the Symbolic is in constant motion (Bowie, 1991). These contradictory trajectories of movement in each register are most visceral in their products—the imperfections and difficulties of speech. Acts of prefacing are the apparent, continuous mark of the difficulty of starting communication as the subject caught between these heterogeneous movements.

 

The Symbolic and the System of Exchange

The symbolic, as we have seen in relation to the Imaginary, cannot be equated with language as a whole. Instead, the part of language that is proper to the symbolic dimension is that of the signifier, as opposed to the signified or signification in the Imaginary (Zizek?). Signifiers in and of themselves have no true meaning, and are only constituted in relation to other signifiers. This basis in difference is where the notion of the Other as the entire system of language comes from (Lacan, 1977). Because, in the Symbolic, no pre-determined relations exist between signifier and signified, it is in this register that subjectivity is created. Moreover, the appearance of the unconscious through this symbolic order, an order which is other, characterizes the often asserted disjunction between the ego of the Imaginary and the subject of the unconscious. Without denying the structural connections between the two, discourse analysis from a Lacanian perspective is unequivocally more concerned with the latter.

In terms of importance relative to a theory of discourse, the Symbolic is the seat of emphasis upon structural determination given in language. This function is what often elicits characterizations of the Symbolic as law, order, or mastery (Fink, 1995). Further, this register is considered to reign supreme over the other registers by virtue of its role as the only passageway through which we have any access to the operation of either the Imaginary or the Real. As a gatekeeper or determinative structural mandate, operation in the other registers cannot even be thought without its influence. However, this mandate is not only epistemological. The Symbolic also bears upon the process by which the psyche is structured. In this sense the Symbolic cuts across the other registers in a way that renders them fundamentally different rather than just poorly accessed. We see in the Symbolic that the arrival of a signifier is sufficient for the sense that there exists a universe of signifiers, though this is not to say that there is nothing beyond the set of symbols that comprise a language (Evans, 1996). This is particularly important later, when we will characterize the preface as (yet another) re-initiation into the Symbolic, where coiling with the Imaginary takes place.

As we have said, the preface constitutes a moment of recurring initiations into the Symbolic order, which works both for and through the subject of speech. If we understand the preface as an intiation into the Symbolic, it is important to consider the psychic developmental trajectory of the subject. The original initiation into the Symbolic order is the final point in the mirror stage after an Imaginary identification has been made. From this developmental perspective, the Symbolic arrives on scene with the Imaginary, as if to grant access (albeit incomplete access) to the identification just formed. This line of reason urges the discourse analyst to envision this dual play of registers as equally constitutive of the subject in moments of speech.

David Pavón Cuéllar (2010) accounts for the interaction between the operation of the symbolic order and the speaking subject by posing a system of mutual exploitation where the subject always loses by virtue of his or her investment. In the system of symbolic exchange, the subject’s real being undergoes a sort of consumption as he or she is set to the task of sustaining the system upon having enlisted that same system for expressive purposes. The subject surrenders his or her “raw material” to become the real, divided subject of discourse whose remainder is the predicative exploitation or value for the system to which he or she is disposed by operation in the Symbolic realm. Hence the insistence that the real appearance of the speech-being of words always refer to the petrified appearance of being, or the symbolic speaking being that is entirely distinct from the missing real being of the speaking act (Cuéllar, 2010, p. 282).

Ironically, the ongoing process by which the real subject inevitably becomes replaced by the real speaking subject, producing a lack described by Cuéllar as exploitative and divisive, hatches alongside the production of speech. Where the movement of this process is most apparent is necessarily where, in a sense, it is already complete by virtue of taking place within the Symbolic, moved by a speaking subject. This Lacan points out, too, ‘the more the subject employs the signifier to get out of the signifying chain, the more he is integrated into the chain, and the more he becomes a sign of the chain’ (12/02/58, p. 245). Analytically, this point is crucial in suggesting that we eschew a notion of a beginning, content with interpretations that catch the subject in moments of speech. These moments are comprised of, among other deeds, delicate negotiation with an Other, even while the speaking subject has already submitted to the sacrifice entailed by the whole of the Symbolic. More pressing still are the refusals and resistances uttered, which only reinforce the chain of signifiers (Lacan, 1957-1958, 12/02/58).

This portrait of the structure of the symbolic system creates an unrest; a violent divergence of the subject that is barely but infuriatingly apparent. This poignant lack is not only important as a constituent of the formation of the unconscious, but also surfaces in a homologous manner at the level of the body and of the subject[1] (Verhaeghe, 2001). The exteriority and alienation of that which is most intimate, our real being, manifests as a scathing, itchy absence where it would be in the universe of discourse. All our best attempts to renegotiate the terms of our circumstances as speaking beings are met with recurring failures of integration. These troubles hover over the discursive scene, appearing as miscommunications, struggles to reconcile points of view, and other misunderstandings amongst speaking beings in the Imaginary. Cuéllar insists that the hostility of the expressing subject is a structural hostility that is inevitable in language which conceals it, making it detectable but nevertheless unintelligible. Moreover, he claims that such hostility is only functional insofar as it has its own exchange value in the Symbolic as a symbolized object of the repressive mechanism of the unconscious (p. 296).

It is by way of this structural hostility toward the unavoidable, inapprehensible difference given in the universe of signifiers that Lacanian discourse analysis comes to parse out the subject of speech from the confounding imaginary subjects. In contrast to Cuéllar’s determination, I suggest that this structural hostility can induce manifold reactions on behalf of the subject that need not mirror the aggression inherent in his or her own division. The speaking subject as such is as capable of hostility and aggression in the Imaginary as they are of understanding and communication. Insofar as the speaker answers the Other in speaking, he or she is part of diverse, overlapping relations that render styles of speech production more complex than that of a one-to-one matrix of affect. The hostility of induction into the symbolic is visceral in prefaces which, despite already being staged within the structure it references, can be likened to fresh moments of initiation into the realm of signifiers. Also, the subject’s own varying and revolving way of bearing his or her division can be useful in discourse analysis for providing the flavor of impending talk.

Taken in concert with the paradoxes of the Other (below) and the imbrication of the Imaginary and the hostile system of symbolic exchange here described, we can consider the preface to be a monument to representational fumbling. This fumbling is gripping in the context of discourse analysis in that it is one of the more transparently empty moments of signification. As a testament to overwhelming failure of the symbolic system which it is a part, prefacing always alludes to its own shortcomings. However, the expressive inadequacy of the preface is structurally constitutive of its function as an operative set of signifiers in a system whose success amounts to a divided subject. This subject is recursively formed through doing the bidding of a representational system which embeds and informs him or her. Indeed, there are infinitely many ways that the speaking subject can appear in the face of the interlocking of the Symbolic and the Imaginary. Crucial for the purposes of discourse analysis is the fact that these appearances are visibly contained in the use of the preface.

The Other

In order to appreciate Lacan’s theory of discourse and the discourse analytic strategies that do it justice, I will turn to the notion of the Other. This idea stands in distinction from the little “o” “others” who are other actual subjects, people with whom interpersonal relationships may be formed (Lacan, 1953, seminar II). The Other, as we will see, exists outside relations in the Imaginary as a non-localized collection of perspectives, norms, and rules from which we see ourselves. Hook (2003) identifies paradoxes of the Other which are helpful in setting out theoretical backdrop against which we must tailor current efforts to investigate the benefits of the preface as an analytic knitting point. Among these benefits is an expanded view of Other(s) of discourse, locatable or functionally ascertainable through the preface. These paradoxes cleverly amount to a survey of different conceptualizations of the Other, which is a classically thorny and loaded element of Lacanian psychoanalytic theory. As we will see further on, these different ways of thinking about the Other in Lacan are enormously helpful in developing the Lacanian discourse analytic project by parsing out and guiding toward ways of meeting its goals, which can be as variable as its subjects.

At the outset, Hook points out that the Other subsides on a different plane, in isolation from the interchanges that go on between speaking subjects, even though it ultimately bestows a psychic reality that links and motivates subjects. This is because the Other cannot be conceptualized or understood psychologically; it persists as absolute alterity, beyond the inter-subjective, though another subject may, at times, provide for the speaker a physical embodiment of the Other. On this account, the Other is recognized as establishing the co-ordinates for inter-subjectivity and promptly escaping descriptive capture as just another subject through these co-ordinates (Hook, 2003, p. 4).

The apparently paradoxical nature of the Other here comes from being deeply implicated in the activities of inter-subjectivity, presiding, and leaving traces of its presence without assuming the role of another subject within these activities. That the Other may be embodied by other speakers is a testament to the absent, ghostly entrenchment of the Other in the discursive setting. Moments of embodiment also provide a limit case of proximity of the Other by which we can get a sense for the drastic variability of subject/Other postures. If we take for granted that the Other may have variable locations and different degrees of proximity for each subject, the prospect of taking a relational/interactional perspective between speaker and lurking iterations of the Other becomes even more appealing. As an alternative to assessing a speaking subject and formulaic type of Other with specified features that act upon or demand from the subject, each party (subject and Other) may be better ascertained or comprehended in specificity as per unique discourse analytic goals by tracing their joint development and mutually/contextually informed revolutions through the discursive scene.

Drawing jointly upon Lacan’s assertion in Ecrits (1977) and Žižek’s (2005) more structuralist account, the Other, notes Hook, seems to connote both the conditions of the unconscious and the storehouse of available signifiers within speech. This paradox is important in that it grounds the apparently external locus of speech and emphasizes the degree to which a psychoanalytic form of discourse analysis must concern itself with theorizing Others individuated in subjects. There arises the notion that the Other resides, in a sense, inside the speaking subject as the familiar (indeed, the only) way in which expression in the form of speech is achieved. This provides a direct contrast to the notion that the Other is still very much, as already mentioned, outside of the speaker as an impersonal set of communicative templates and suppositions. Essentially, this paradox points out that a Lacanian discourse analysis may do well to carefully parse out and distinguish between dynamics of the Imaginary and Symbolic realms, whose interplay influences the speech of the subject upon whom they act. If both of these stories of the Other are to be taken seriously, we seem to be committed to a very external “personal”. In order to reconcile, the apparently internal and external quality of the Other, reducing it neither to an inevitable force internal to and active upon the psyche nor to social presuppositions, institutions, and norms, a Lacanian discourse analytic methodology should focus chiefly on the relational qualities, quirks, and tendencies that arise between the enigmatic Other and the speaking subject with whom it emerges.

These paradoxes of the Other generate a few distinct, though not mutually exclusive renderings of the Lacanian Other, the delineations of which illuminate the range of forms and expanded, indeed often unexpected, possible encounters, effects, and interactional trajectories for development between and among forces imbricated to create moments of speech. The ‘Other as rules of the game/set of codes’ marks one pole wherein the Other can be understood as radically exterior. The ‘Other as embodied little other of conversation’ is a rendering of the Other that still functions externally but is recognizable or pronouncedly and tangibly relatable to the speaking subject within the Imaginary dynamics enacted in speech. Finally, the ‘Other as discourse of the unconscious’ marks the other pole of theorizing the Other where it is most singular to the subject’s style of speaking as to typify his or her expression and constitution. Taken together, all of these Others present a non-exhaustive spectrum of relational spatiality. These conceptions serve, additionally, as a reminder that fixing or presuming a certain type of relation to the Other is equally limiting and misrepresentative as fixing the meaning of a signifier for a subject.

For the purposes of discourse analysis, the temptation to extract any generalizable or overarching truths about the Other, either for a particular subject or as a more broad attempt to characterize the Other in Lacan must be resisted. Instead, the contextualized moments of speech in which this interaction is strikingly impactful (to be sure it is always entirely impactful, even decisive) on the speaking subject must be explored such that the discourse analyst can get acquainted with the various customizations and enunciated products possible within and cultivated through such an interaction. This interactional focus recommends that the enunciations uttered in discourse supervene the precise determinations of either speaking subjects or Other(s) with whom a paradoxical relation exists. Privileging this always-occurring encounter in discourse analysis may inform contingent determinations of context-dependent embodiments of the Other, but even these designations should ultimately seek recurring ways of handling the Other, visible in the idiosyncrasies of speech. The Lacanian discourse analyst must ask how the Other is simultaneously taken up and taken in to the degree that these encounters form the available modes of relating, always through speech, for a subject. We can understand the multifarious locale of the Other as a function of the interactions between its fundamentally free-floating form and the speaking subject through whom it is also, at least partially, domesticated.

 

The Preface of Discourse Psychology

There have been a number of attempts to bring discourse analysis, as it has been popularized in social psychology, into conversation with what discourse analysis might look like from a Lacanian notion of discourse (e.g. Neill, 2013). These attempts have been limited due to the lack of actual use of any form of Lacanian discourse analysis, rendering it only a theoretical or emerging system of discourse analysis (Parker, 2005a). Further, and much more of an impediment to the development of Lacanian discourse analysis is the danger of forcing Lacan into the discourse analytic practices used in Anglo-American psychology. Ian Parker has pointed out incompatibilities between discourse analysis as it has been executed in the turn-to-language in social psychology and the conceptions of discourse given in Lacan’s body of work (ibid). Although the many types of discourse analysis in psychology do not necessarily agree with respect to theoretical underpinnings, methodological principles, and applications, the most convergence between them is upon shared notions of what it is to be human. These notions are the same ones underlying most psychological research in Anglo-American psychology. Suffice it to say that the differences between discourse as conceived in psychology and discourse for Lacan suggest radically different subjects and forms of sociality. So far, I have focused on the type of discourse analysis proper to the speaking subject of Lacan.

 Now I will switch gears in service of the secondary idea of this paper, the imperative to fashion the tools or guiding mechanisms of discourse analyses to the particular discourse analytic systems they serve. This imperative comes from the idea that the ways different discourse analytic systems treat analytically important moments of speech (e.g. the preface) are so varied that they may not simply be swapped between systems. The underlying commitment of this notion is that the methodological strategies and tools of discourse analytic systems contain and affirm their ontological positions and conceptions of subjectivity. As such, they recursively have a determinative impact on the type of analyses generated. The following is a short account of the function of the preface and the type of information it yields about speaking subjects from a broad discourse psychology perspective. No doubt, there are multiple discourse psychological perspectives (see Malone & Roberts, 2010), and stark theoretical differences between them. The forthcoming account is simply meant to show the way that discourse analytic tools reflect and inform different ontologies. Secondarily, we have more opportunity to grasp how different the psychological and psychoanalytic ontologies and their corresponding, distinct notions of being human truly are. Again, this difference is the force motivating both the Lacanian discourse analytic project and my insistence on rearticulated tools and strategies.

The preface, known alternately across discourse analytic traditions as “precursor” or “hedger” are the remarks prior to what the speaker considers the content or juice of their speech turn. Prefaces are often conciliatory, explicatory or context-disclosing and can vary in length depending on how much introductory information the speaker sees fit. I will use the term “preface” as an umbrella term meant to denote what the conversation analytic tradition has studied at length under the more specific guise of “pre-indexing”, which has been broken down analytically to study various goals and doings (e.g. “pre-sequences” [Sacks, Schegloff, and Jefferson], “indirect speech” [Searle], “disclaimers” [Hewitt and Stokes], “politeness forms” [Brown and Levinson]) (Beach & Dunning, 1982). Though most work on these speech mechanisms have been geared toward explicating particular accomplishments resulting from their use, there seems to be significant convergence on the very broad notion that these “pre” devices function communicatively. Prefacing initiates and structures sequencing, acts as a strategy for setting up a social backdrop conducive to mutual understanding, maintains a sense of community between speakers, and can even evade or assuage responses that threaten credibility (Beach & Dunning, 1982).

Common to all of these uses is the idea that prefacing forestalls forthcoming speech in order to manipulate it for a speaker’s conversational aims (ibid). Other conversation analytic research describe “reference recalibration repair” and other practices of talk, similar in that formulations are tailored or repaired, suspending the development of an upcoming speech turn for the purpose of amending and fine-tuning its referents (Lerner et al., 2012). Moreover, study of these speech phenomena are meant to expose inferences made about shared knowledge between speakers and lay bare how this knowledge operates in practice. A preface can successfully reformulate categories of identification or alter the way some part of forthcoming speech is understood by offering a suggestion for one interpretation over another. Put differently, prefacing is much like adding commentary or delivering another referential frame through which other speakers might consider the prefacer’s forthcoming speech. On this account, prefacing can open the way for novel or more nuanced communicative exchanges that allow more mutual understanding.

The temporal placement of the preface here is a crucial element of its function with regards to future speech turns. The preface comes before the utterances to which they are to be applied, as opposed to mid- or post-speech corrections and reformulations, also studied in the psycho-discursive tradition (Bolden, 2010). This is a good place to begin considering the subject drawn up by this notion of the preface in distinction from the speaking subject of Lacan discussed above. This subject appears to be someone whose corrective and expansive uses of the preface actually work to create true understanding of a signified meaning for speakers. Based on the assumption that good use of speech will be sufficient for understanding between speakers, it follows that the preface would be used, along with future speech, to get a sense for one’s wishes, beliefs, emotions, and concerns. That these are communicable and important for getting a sense of the truth of a subject imply a subject who is fundamentally in control of what they say and how they say it. The sheer possibility of fully expressible beliefs and desires attributes to a speaker a full knowledge of these beliefs and desires.

As we will see, commitment to this true understanding can only generate an analysis of signified meanings in the Imaginary register. A psychological rendition of the preface amounts to just this, since psychology tends to emphasize understanding between speakers rather than the interplay of forces that produce speech from a Lacanian perspective. Although a cursory sense of what is going on in the Imaginary is not without value, a preface that corresponds only to this register and the subject therein amounts to an analysis of egos, subjects who know, rather than of speaking subjects whose truths involve more than just their claim to knowledge.

 

Lacanian Discourse Analytic Preface as a Grounding in Structure

In the last section, we took a brief look into how psychology ventures to get information about speakers through their speech. This notion takes for granted that speaking is intentional and creates mutual understanding between speakers. The latter condition, the supposition of mutual understanding, invokes a subject who is the sole agent of his or her speech, and is set to the task of making him or herself understandable. Our conception of the subject in relation to the Symbolic, the Imaginary, and the Other requires recourse to an entirely different type of discourse analysis. Correspondingly, the tools and devices used to analyze the subject of Lacan will contribute to and spring from these differences.

According to Lacan, it is the combination of structural necessity and investment that comprise the truth of the speaking subject. Therefore it is crucial that a discourse analyst not get caught up analyzing alleged ideas, opinions, and propositions formed by signifiers in speech. This distraction locks the analyst in the realm of the Imaginary instead of the Symbolic, where the truth of the speaking subject is locatable. The preface, itself a repetitive structural element of speech, grounds the analyst in the project of mapping the topology of speech. Regardless of the signified content of the preface, be it long (I’m only saying this ’cause I wasn’t sure if you knew…) or short (I’m sorry, but…), its frequently early appearance at the beginning of many utterances and longer speech turns give prompt hints of the way a subject’s speech is apt to contain gaps, repetitions, and self-stopping blockages. In this way, the discourse analyst’s ears may perk up to the quirks and nonsensical signifiers of speech through which the subject’s unconscious, in its complex logic, appears and speaks.

Another provocative facet of prefacing is the sense in which it can be viewed as an attempt on behalf of the subject to speak beyond what he or she is saying, or, to produce a metalanguage. These attempts at best indicate the subject’s interpretation of his or her own speech–interpretations produced within the grips of the Imaginary. In this way, the amount of prefatory work done by a subject can be indicative of the subject’s own interpretation of his or her relationship to the symbolic realm overall, as it is interwoven with the specificities of the operative Other, constraining and constrained by the speech of the subject. However, this self-interpretation executed by the preemptive self-corrections and communicative prescriptions of preface work is inadequate as an analysis because it only deepens and re-inscribes the shortcomings of the symbolic system that it supports. When a subject tries to speak beyond or outside of the speech that is available to them, they can only refer more signifiers to other signifiers. This failure to cementing a shared meaning or arriving upon a concrete referent turns out to be an illusion which exists solely in the Imaginary. Our look at the structure of the symbolic system of exchange found this illusion necessary to the subject’s continued use of speech at all. Still, discourse analysis must turn its focus on the failures and gaps in speech that function in tandem with this illusion. We are again reminded that any analysis of the Imaginary is an unnecessary contribution from the discourse analyst; subjects may pursue this sort of inquiry on their own. Prefacing work, then, can also be thought about as conditioned by the subject’s investment in the Imaginary reality of the meaningful content of the forthcoming signifiers that he or she is on the brink of uttering.

Neither, though, can we simply eschew the fact that the interpreter and subject are both couched in the same ‘proletarianized’ position, to use Cuéllar’s (2010) term, with respect to the symbolic system. Discourse analysts by no means stand detached from the symbolic system; this system operates the same way whether an utterance is an interpretation or some other enunciation. On this ground, analyzing prefaces can be seen as a continuation of the interpretive work that the subject is already doing as preparation for extended utterances that the subject hopes will secure a status of credibility beyond that which can be afforded by the symbolic system. That the interpretive work of the discourse analyst still represents a composite part of one unitary system of symbolic values is a useful reminder that the interpretation as well as the utterance has both Imaginary and Symbolic values. This point, that interpretation relies on the structural interplay between the two registers that make speech intelligible, is cautionary. Working with prefaces reminds us that the aim of the speaker in the Imaginary is often to maneuver a way of signifying without the constraints inherent in signification, i.e. to be steps closer to being “really understood” (Lacan, 1977).

Lacanian discourse analysis must utilize the imaginary sense of speech and the real “non-sense” which comprises the unconscious of the speaking subject. Where the (non-temporal) passage of the Imaginary through the Symbolic is concerned, an interpretation is always of an interpretation, making analyzable discourse quite a complex web of interpretations. Therefore, more thorough interpretations, as interpretations of interpretations, are not those that spend more time chasing and tracing signifiers whose links appear in the enunciating acts of a subject. A good interpretation does not speculate about the ‘real meaning’ to which a signifier refers and the meaning to which that ‘real meaning’, appearing necessarily as yet another signifier, refers (Parker, 2010). Rather, a thorough interpretation should encapsulate sense and nonsense by focusing on the enunciating acts and signifiers used by and using the subject.

How, then, can this element of prefacing inform discourse analyses? Neill has suggested that, for analysis to proceed, the discourse analyst must separate Symbolic from Imaginary meanings (Neill, 2013). Insofar as a preface can be taken as a signifier set of the Imaginary, it can be helpful to designate master signifiers. For Ian Parker, repetition of signifiers and metaphors that conceal other signifiers show the location of quilting points that ensures the continued circuit of speech (Parker, 2005a). If the preface is understood as one large signifier whose use joins the speaker with a speech structure, then its repetitive occurrences can be used as indicative of forthcoming master signifiers. These master signifiers can be easier to parse out given the various Imaginary investments (including the investment in the Imaginary) contained in acts of prefacing.

To the extent that prefaces are guiding points to the concerns of the subject in the realm of the Imaginary, they designate qualities of the Other to which subjects cling. With respect to the emphasis that Lacanian discourse analysis places on discerning the Other of speech, the Other of the preface marks the recipient to whom the aggression, reticence, or any other way of handling the mere fact of employing a system of symbolization, is addressed. Even if we are agnostic with regards to the form that the struggle of the symbolic may take for a subject, we can take for granted that the subject is never the isolated storehouse containing the traces of this struggle. The Other of the preface, then, is an impactful reminder of the paradoxical qualities of the Other that make Lacanian discourse analysis challenging—external, internal, the whistle-blowing overseer, and the deeply, even sentimentally, individuated. These qualities can broaden discourse analyses to fathom more complex subjects who mistake themselves in the discourse of another (Malone & Roberts, 2010).

Further, the Lacanian perspective resists the prospect of totalizing interpretation, whereas most discourse analyses tend to resists such interpretations in order to preserve the sanctity of context and, in doing so, more modest claims. What distinguishes one from the other is that the type of knowledge theoretically ascertainable by psychological discourse analyses is total. If these researchers had unlimited resources and funding to execute analyses in all contexts, they might claim that they have total knowledge about a particular subject. This exposes another fundamental philosophical difference between a Lacanian discourse analysis and those adopting the theories of the subject offered by Anglo-American psychology. A Lacanian analysis meets the limits of knowledge about the subject at apprehension rather than understanding. Understanding connotes that meaning is conferred from one subject to another, whereas apprehension points to a grasping of a subject-specific logic. Instead of trying to understand, for example, what the subject really wants by searching for it in their speech, we must try to apprehend the way this desire, regardless of its object, appears through and comes to bear on the structure of speech (Verhaeghe, 2001).

As we have seen in the account of the system of symbolic exchange apropos to any instance of the speaking subject, the preface can be taken as a natural beginning point for getting a sense for a subject’s Other as he or she burrows deeper into the system of symbolic currency. The subject is, as it were, inculcated anew into the truth of the symbolic: that it is ultimately divisive. The frustration of diving yet again into a communicative universe, the only one available, that works not only for the subject but through him or her as well serves as an ever-present reminder of the limits of the discursive field and its irreversible effects on the speaker who is simultaneously using and being used. In this vain, acts of prefacing, distinct from other enunciations, reveal the unique nuances of how any individual speaker is concealed in relation to their concerns in the Imaginary. During prefacing, a lack in the Imaginary is broached by the subject, obliging him or her to try to close gaps and make repairs that they are ill-equipped to make. As a result, we see a subject whose deep entrenchment in the Imaginary coincides with the limits of what can be said. For use in discourse analysis, the style of the preface marks the subject’s own customized reaction upon brushing up with his or her own concealment by the Symbolic.

To be sure, speakers are often consciously aware of the difficulties of everyday communications. Prefaces are similar moments of doubt, frustration, and suspension, even though they are common, if not perfunctory, as in the preface of a novel, textbook, or presentation. There are two distinct but related differences between the chaos that inheres in the preface and that of other conversational fumbling. The first is the preemptive status of the preface. The second, which we will handle now, is the locus of knowledge for the speaker. Is the subject at least minimally aware of the violence inhering in his or her own repetitive initiations into the structural constraints and allowances of the symbolic domain? Phrased as a more general concern, how much or in what sense might we say a speaking subject engages with the truth of the Symbolic?

From a Lacanian perspective, this knowledge is fluctuating, fleeting, and confounded by other factors stemming from communicating at the level of the Imaginary. In fact, these questions can only be answered with respect to a particular subject. Instead of attempting to pre-establish limits for how and in what manner the speaking subject can interact with or demonstrate the truth of his or her constitution and maintenance in the space between the signifiers he or she utters, we should focus on how this appears for each subject. Here, we are not trying to generate any theory of knowledge or systematic way to analyze. On the contrary, any theory of knowledge is surrendered for glimpses at the real speaking subject who uniquely maintains and grapples with knowledge that is neither universal nor necessarily apparent at all. Analyzing prefaces are simply opportunities to discern a subject’s relation to the real of the Symbolic. And further, since the preface is preemptive of the speech in the Imaginary, we can conclude that prefaces speak to concerns therein. Therefore, we are able to analytically untangle a subject’s relation to the real of the Symbolic because of the tight knitting of the Imaginary and Symbolic in moments of prefacing.

As a note of caution, it would be a mistake to glean, from the characterization of the preface as an initiation into the Symbolic realm that any prefacing work done on behalf of the speaking subject exists outside of the Symbolic realm. Because prefaces are still only configurations of signifiers, functioning still as more agents of symbolic exchange, they do not evade or transcend the limits of what is ascertainable from the speech of a speaking subject. The truth of the speaking subject is not to be found in what we think they are trying to communicate, but rather in the way their division by speech persists. This persistence creates the topological elements of speech. These include repetitive use of certain signifiers, self-corrections, logical connections between signifiers, to name a few. Therefore, we must take pains not confuse any meaning that we may be tempted to claim comes from the speech content of the preface with the truth of the speaking subject.

In this respect, Lacanian discourse analysis must utilize different tools and discourse analytic strategies than other traditions of discourse analysis coming from the turn-to-language in psychology. As we have seen, discourse analytic camps that aim to generate a psychology of the subject based on the meaningful content of his or her speech are, from a Lacanian perspective, analyses of the Imaginary. Lacanian discourse analytic work supports a form of enigmatic wisdom stemming from a comparatively small sphere of mineable determinations possible about any subject of speech. Based on the functional distinction between (1) the Imaginary subject, (2) the subject of the Symbolic, and (3) the unknowable Real subject, a Lacanian perspective points out, as its analytic product, particularities, styles, nuances, gaps, and systemic mishaps pertaining to how and why knowledge found in discourse is not of the Real subject but of the truth of the Symbolic.

These distinctions encompass the importance in Lacanian discourse analysis of valuing form over content. This distinction involves attending to the formal or structural qualities of speech rather than the specific signifiers that are used by speakers to impart meaning. As we see from the connection between the Symbolic and the Imaginary, this attempt at true communication is, according to Lacan, a structural impossibility because of the nature of symbolic exchange. When speakers attempt to understand one another or convey meaning with signifiers, they are operating in the Imaginary register where, as speaking subjects in the commonplace conditions of speech, they perpetuate their own division. So, analyzing prefaces, typically understood to supplement future speech rather than hold a complete, stand-alone meaning, helps the discourse analyst resist an analysis of the content of spoken utterances. This temptation to understand or extract an underlying meaning from the signifiers, used between speakers to form and uphold social relations, must be swapped for comprehension of the formal structure of the subject’s speech.

 

Conclusion

I hope to have shown that Lacanian discourse analysis can benefit from familiarity with and use of the “preface” as an analytic tool. The preface is a tool particularly in line with the aims and philosophical commitments embodied in Lacanian discourse analysis as opposed to other forms of discourse analysis currently popular in discourse psychology. Because it is an important moment for gleaning topological or structural facets of speech, the preface is a marker of the type of truth with which Lacan’s theory of discourse is concerned, the truth of the Symbolic. In this sense, it finds the speaking subject in between the dictates of the Symbolic and those of the Imaginary. Moreover, the preface and Lacanian discourse analysis should be taken as exemplary of the notion that the methods and tools of discourse analytic systems contain within them ontological ideas and types of subjects they can encounter. For these reasons, it is important that the strategies and implements of discourse analyses correspond to the elements of speech prioritized by researchers, whatever they may be.

References

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Frosh, S., Pheonix, A., & Pattman, R. (2003), ‘Taking a Stand: Using Psychoanalysis to Explore the Positioning of Subjects in Discourse’, British Journal of Social Psychology, 42: 39-53.

Frosh, S. (2002) Enjoyment, Bigotry, Discourse and Cognition British Journal of Social Psychology, 41, 189-193

Frosh, S. (2001). Things that can’t be said: Psychoanalysis and the limits of language. International Journal of Critical Psychology, 1, 39–57.

Frosh, S. (1999). What is outside discourse?. Psychoanalytic Studies, 1(4), 381-390.

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Hook, D. (2003). Language and the flesh : psychoanalysis and the limits of discourse [online]. London: LSE Research Online.

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Lacan, J. (1957-1958). Le Séminaire. Libre IV. La Relation d’Objet. Paris: Seuil, 1994.

Lacan, J. (2006a). Instance of letter in the unconscious or reason since Freud. In B. Fink (Trans.), Écrits (pp. 412–444). New York, NY: Norton. (Original work published 1966)

Lacan, J. (2006d). The subversion of the subject and the dialectic of desire. In B. Fink (Trans.), Écrits, (pp. 671–702). New York, NY: Norton. (Original work published 1966)

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Parker, I. (2005a). Lacanian Discourse Analysis in Psychology: Seven Theoretical Elements. Theory and Psychology, 15, pp. 163-182.

Parker, I. (2010). Psychosocial studies: Lacanian discourse analysis negotiating interview text. Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society, 15(2), 156-172.

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[1] In a chapter of his Beyond Gender, Verhaeghe teases out the homologous structure between the lack in the Symbolic, caused by structural incompatibility between systems of language and organic systems, and the lack in the Real, precipitated by the loss of the original state of non-sexed being upon sexual reproduction and birth. This loss at the level of the Real is mirrored and taken up phalically in the Symbolic and the Imaginary, thus producing a homologous lack in each of the three modalities. Tracing lines of thought in Lacan’s Encore and Seminar XX from as early as 1948, he discusses the implications of homology between the body, the unconscious, and the subject for a Lacanian ontology (pp.130-132)

Michel Valentin – Spiraling into Control or the Rape of the Lock in Hitchcock ’s movies

Spiraling into Control or the Rape of the Lock in Hitchcock[i]’s movies[ii]

(Click HERE to open this article in the reader.)

How, from a fire that never sinks or sets would you escape.” Heraclitus.

While watching Hitchcock’s movies, one cannot help being struck by the recurring, uncanny presence of object-images whose role is not easy to determine. Moreover, these object-images are inscribed within a certain contiguity and continuity of shape and function that seem to be linked to key camera movements, as if these fragments had a life of their own, as if their apparent heterogeneity was breaking down the apparent homogeneity of the fantasy sustained reality of the outside world (Lacan). In many of Hitchcock’s films, there exist metaphorical or metonymical image-objects which escape the representational logic induced by the neurotic dimension produced by repression but obey a logic of their own which is not the logic of the fantasy/reality field. They are also filmically inscribed by, or participate formally or informally into a certain movement which we will qualify as helicoïdal or spiral-like. They correspond to a more ominous, tragic dimension and are products of the violent drama reenacted by a consciousness haunted by something which is not here or there, which does not belong anywhere…, what Lacan calls the Real.[iii] This shows that Hitchcock’s filmic mastery and art is not only the result of “a single, peremptory consciousness” that imprints “itself on the cinema’s industrial artifacts” but also the specific filmic rhetoric of an unconscious, Hitchcock’s unconscious. [iv] These artifacts have a quasi-hallucinatory dimension (betraying their unconscious origin), which means that the apparent visual domination/mastery of Hitchcock’s films passes through a written dimension which is “hieroglyphic,” (“ideogramatic”) and which belongs more to the order of what the film critic and theoretician Marie-Claire Ropars calls the figural dimension of cinema or “cinécriture.”

These image-objects are in/formed by a recurrent obsession which modulates them according to the specificity of each movie, but which keeps them on a tight leash and makes them converge towards the same cinematic goal. It means that one passes from one to the other diachronically, from film to film, via a glide, like in a musical glissando. The morphology of each one seems to obey the same morphing and metamorphizing as what occurs in the process known in painting as anamorphosis. Born during the Mannerist and Baroque periods, anamorphosis was the “representation” of a carefully calculated, geometrical deformation of the classical, orthogonal representation of Renaissance and Classical painting. What was painted and appeared on the canvas at first sight as a blob or a blurred cartouche revealed its true object only once the spectator had discovered the right viewing position—meaning that he had to squat, squint or look awry,[v] from a certain angle, at the canvas. One of the best known examples of anamorphic art is Hans Holbein the Younger’s famous painting The French Ambassadors (1533) which became a favorite seminal case for continental post-structuralist and postmodernist theorists such as Michel Foucault as well Lacan himself, not to mention Slavoj Zizek. The revealed image of the obfuscated cartouche generally represented a skull, something fecal, or genital: death, disgusting or obscene matter. The luminous luminal cartouche hovers like a subliminal stain in the liminal zone of the painting (at its bottom). That is to say (to take an epistemological short-cut), that something not metaphoric but directly metonymic or iconic of the very primary and forbidden objects linked to the pre-genital, original Mother whose access/enjoyment is barred by the law of the incest taboo guaranteed by the Name-of-the-Father and the Paternal function and the Phallic signifier according to Lacanian theory, returns and erupts on the scene of presentation/representation, puncturing it; something endowed with such a serious gravity that it deforms its field.

We want to show that Hitchcock’s strange image-objects mirror/echo/are similar to the results produced by the process of anamorphosis in painting, as if the filmic texture of his films were the result of a conscious and unconscious mapping out of what we are going to call his symptom, so as to deal with it—maybe make it, if not “palatable,” at least tolerable, if not enjoyable, and impose it on the audience by the same token, in the same move. Here one has to use the concept of “filmic unconscious” where the film is at once the result and agent of a mediation of an unconscious desire. Of course, let us not forget that Hitchcock himself made a conscious use of the Freudian concept of unconscious (Spellbound—1945 with Gregory Peck and Ingrid Berman, Marnie—1964—with Tippi Hedren and Sean Connery). But he could not consciously make use of or manipulate his own unconscious for filmic reasons. This means that Hitchcock was written by his films as he was writing them.

Like love, Hitchcock is a special enigma, a story wrapped in a mystery–and we know the filmic importance Hitchcock attaches to wrappings, knots and ropes) which he offers as a pretend conversation with the audience, in a similar fashion as an analyst would do with his/her couched analysand, except that in his case, the conversation is a one-way street.

On the one hand, he has access to the knowledge supported by the phantasm (as everybody else who is “normal,” i.e. “normative,” “neurotic,” “obsessional,” or somewhat “perverse”) he needs in order to decipher without undue perplexity the problematic and pathos of life and make fun of it via the public entertainment of the filmic medium. On the other, he knows how to represent psychosis as only a psychotic would (or an analyst maybe), as if he knew how to amplify the delirium inherent in himself, i.e. in any “I/me” construct but without ignoring the “ça” (it/id). In other words, can one delineate and analyze a “Hitchcockian symptom”? There is, of course, always a dimension of simulation/manipulation and conscious careful cultivation/entertainment in the staging of his own symptom by an artist. The author enjoys his/her symptom directly by representing and playing with it, and indirectly by enjoying (sadistically in Hitchcock’s case) the spectatorial enjoyment of it. But nevertheless, one should not forget that authorial jouissance does not escape authorial unconsciousness. So we can safely venture to say that by representing/analyzing the symptomatology of the body of the Western society via its principal intertwined symptoms sex and murder, Hitchcock was also dealing with his own symptoms, exorcizing his own demons, as Sacha Gervasi’s movie indicates in Psycho. In fact his symptom went beyond the neurotic or perverse activity usually attributed to film-makers of genius. It seems that it belonged to another dimension as Peter Conrad writes when qualifying Hitchcock’s films as a “private domain—an infirmary of moral qualms and mental ailments, a catacomb of curios…”[vi] In fact, the whole progression of the Hitchcockian thematic shows the tortuous route of the life of his symptom, with withdrawals, onto-genetic progressions, remissions, lapses and accelerations until the precipitation of the famous psychotic-like “passage à l’acte” of the last movies (Psycho, The Birds, Frenzy). Was Hitchcock trying to “auto-analyze” himself?[vii]   Is his fantasy a defense against a deeply seated and serious trauma?

Hitchcock’s films do not use art as a sublimation of/for a regeneration of the metaphor of the sexual relation (this rapport that doesn’t exist but “ex-sists” according to Lacan). In his movies, there is not much love (or transference) although there is much desire. On the contrary, his films focus on the impossible sexual relation, the dystopic and destitutive, incurable disease that language and sex operates/works out in the subject. It is also about the impossible, tabooed Mother as object of love and desire, and as cause of the failure of the sexual relation. Hitchcock is not a “mother lover,” like Proust or Houdini who worked out their lack of “separation syndrome” by creatively cutting or rearranging their Oedipal knots in their own peculiar ways. Hitchcock is something of a “mother fucker”…, this mother which one way or the other constantly returns in his films to haunt/terrorize/castrate/capture him his actors/actresses–his avatars.

How does the Mother return?

Again, to take a short cut, via the object (the bone of contention), i.e. the skull and its partial objects: spiral-like locks of hair (found everywhere in his movies on many of his actresses), gouged-out eyes (The Birds), the gaping jaw with full teeth, empty orbs and shock of grey hair, as well as Norman Bates’ “Mother-twirled lock of hair” shaped like a flat spiral on the floor of the cellar (Psycho), massive or monumental dark, ominous, man-made masses (Foreign Correspondent, Saboteurs, North by Northwest, Marnie…) These objects metonymic of an impossible desire are the products of an latent and forceful Oedipal crisis and bear a heavy tint of incestuous stain. The spiral or elliptical lock is often barred (like a barred galaxy). The bar stands for the trace of the original repression which normatively bars the subject, constituting “it” as such (like the scarifications/marks/incisions/cuttings/tattoo of the rites of passage into adulthood–sexuation). But then why the visual insistence on something that normally everybody has internalized as such in order to become a subject? This over-determining obsessional presence of the bar, or the twist ( barred circle) certainly indicates that something is returning from the past, something which was not normatively assimilated or inscribed, and therefore returns from the unconscious. The Nouvelle Vague film-maker Chris Marker discerned in Vertigo, in the whorl of Kim Novak’s blond chignon a figuration of time’s helix–illustrating the domination of the past over the future, the be-come over the to-come, where “avenir/à-venir” rhymes with souvenir. Marker was on track, since the non-discursive dominion of the past over the futures indicates the presence of the symptom. This (twisted/barred) lock located between the seen and the unseen is on the edge of consciousness since it escapes memory but is still omnipresent if one pays close attention or operates a trans-filmic close reading. Although it functions as a fetish it goes beyond it, and belongs to the order of scopic perversion/père-version. Most Hitchcock’s women are marked by/with this incestuously sealed stain via the spiral lock of hair such as Carlotta/Judith (KimNovak) in Vertigo, and Mrs. Brenner (Jessica Tandy) as Mitch’s mother and Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) in The Birds, two movies where Hitchcock hitches a ride on the wild side of madness (the line between madness and artistic creativity being always thin)…

Why does the Mother return with full force and potency in his movies? It is because for/in Hitchcock, the M(o)ther wants to become the Other (The Name-of-the-Father), the Other of the (primary/original) other—which is normatively impossible. This is made very clear in Psycho, Marnie and The Birds.

The internalization of the “bar” (so to speak) has not worked, because the Name-of-the-Father, the primary signifier of sexuation and symbolic castration or paternal metaphor is foreclosed, which means that it is not registered in the subject’s Symbolic. Interestingly enough, there is rarely a positive, strong father image/position in most Hitchcock’s movies. Hitchcockian fathers are not present on the screen: they are not part of the picture or shine through their absence. They form a series of passive, impotent or obscene, anal-retentive, villains, elderly figures, or aged husbands.[viii] In both cases the Hitchcockian place of the father is a negative one: they are out-of-place, out-of-range, or have been displaced. The name-of-the-father is negated but returns (since it cannot be erased, as such, out of existence) in what Lacan calls the Real, making a hole in the Symbolic. The paternal metaphor which holds in place the field of fantasy, generating the field of reality (since reality is structured by fantasy according to Lacan) and protects the subject from the logic and terror of the Real is negated, barred of access. The hole in the Symbolic produced by the lack of the paternal metaphor punctures Hitchcock’s filmic material. It corresponds in Hitchcock’s movies either to the spiral hair piece marking so many Hitchcockian heroins and mother figures, Mother’s twisted lock of hair, or to gouged-out eyes (or empty orbs of skulls) as in Psycho and The Birds. The obsessional image/object that Hitchcock literally twirls with, is the recurrent twisted lock of hair and its different avatars: circular braid (Notorious), spiral-like lock (Psycho), elliptic helicoidal lovelock (Notorious—19456)… In Psycho, prefiguring its Lacanian topological use, Mother’s shock of hair is twisted like a Moebius strip. In Vertigo’s credits, going over its/the limits, as if Hitchcock’s camera-eye was looking awry (à la Zizek), the elliptic ring or loop’s transformations  smoothly glide along a seriality of forms, following a continuous deformation (like a Jordan curve), going over the limits (from the eye’s pupil to a torus or the image of a barred galaxy), but nevertheless following a pattern that limits this apparently limitless drift in space (obviously the topological deformation is closed, i.e. made without cutting or gluing, following/obeying a certain homeomorphism)–the metamorphic directly ties up to the metonymic. What unites/re-assembles/conjoins the eye’s pupil (metaphor of the gaze) with a fetishized substitute for the mother’s pubic patch in this puzzling short-circuiting (reminiscent of an hallucinatory dream work)  is what Lacan calls the object a with its connection to what Lacan theorized as the Real.[ix] It is extremely interesting to realize that this iconic putting-together corresponds to the anamorphic skull with its hollowed out eyes in the trompe-l’oeil paintings of Mannerist and Baroque art, as mentioned earlier.

In fact, in a sequence reminiscent of these Baroque tricks, Marion’s sister, during the famous fruit-cellar sequence, “unveils” the horrifying Mother’s skull with its exorbitant/ex-orbited hollowed-out eyes. Her hand touches Mother’s shoulder (similar to the squatting necessary to find the right point-of-view in front of an anamorphic painting) causing the stool to swivel around, revealing the horror…). In a scene worthy of a Gothic story, à la Edgar Alan Poe, panic-stricken, the same hand, then, hits the hanging light-bulb which oscillates back-and-forth, flashing its beam of light in and out of the vacuous horror. It is the pathological fantasy-object, inaccessible to the subject (it emerges out of the unconscious and is tied up to the mother, the impossible primary object of desire) that closes the gap of the Real, the void of nothingness; this is the nothingness that the lock of hair appeals to and repeals at the same time, as is masterfully illustrated in Vertigo, when the loss of Carlotta/Judi by Scottie (James Stewart) epitomized by the famous lock, turns into a helix-like descent into madness, into the maelstrom, where the lock turns into a super-twisted knot, carrying with it into its abysmal fall, the very own, severed head of Scottie: hairdo, head, vortex, skull, all fall into the same trap of an invaginating gaze, as if disappearing into the singularity horizon of a black hole. Here the impossible dimension of love and desire wrapped into madness, takes on a cosmic and tragic dimension, since the very kernel of the subject’s being is in the unconscious. Here fantasy, symptom and sinthome are condensed into one, into the form of what Lacan calls the object little a. According to Lacan, the formula for psychosis corresponds to a breakdown  of the signifying chain. It happens in many Hitchcock movies, such as in Psycho, Strangers on a Train, Frenzy. In Marnie, the signifiers of desire are locked into the mother’s fantasy molestation of her daughter and the subsequent murder of the “mother’s lover,” as in Psycho. In The Birds, the fantasy supporting the Symbolic, beneath the surface, structuring reality, is punctured—the phallic beaks of the birds literally tear apart flesh like the sound of the knife in Psycho and gouging flesh and eyes with such an unrelenting force and punishing implacability that it can only point to one culprit: the phallic Mother (à la Kali), Das Ding, the impossible maternal object of desire endowed with all the power of unleashed pent-up oedipal repression.

If one were to draw a taxonomy of Hitchcock’s movies, one would discover that many are binary composites or opposites paralleling, echoing each other over the decades (Sabotage–USA: The Woman Alone—1936)/Saboteur–1942), that some motives mirror each other, or that some themes in earlier movies find resolutions in later ones. Moreover, there is a concatenation of uncanny, quasi hallucinatory image-objects throughout his films which puncture (one cannot say “illustrate” because we have left here the domain of a fantasy-sustained reality in order to penetrate into it, or better tiptoe around another dimension, another realm, the one of the Real—since the Real cannot be represented as such but makes its presence/absence felt via holes, violent ruptures, paradoxes…, in the Symbolic filmic texture. As if Hitchcock had also been a student of Lacan all along, his movies point towards the impossibility of the sexual relationship: couples are tied up by chance (literally as in The 39 Steps–1935), joined into problematic marriages (as in Rebecca–1940 where Max continuously calls his wife “monkey-face”), or re/united by chance (Spellbound—1945) except in Saboteur—1942, where the triangle foreshadows the conjuncture characteristic of Hitchcock’s next stage: the Selznick period marked by a series of movies based on cinematographic narratives revolving around dysfunctional Oedipal triangles. This filmic grand narrative will progressively evolve by tightening its focus until allowing the staging of a pre-Oedipal stage; at this point the seriality will qualitatively transform itself and effectuate a literal jump into the hallucinatory dimension (Vertigo—1958) reaching a climax with (The Birds—1963), finishing with a serial killer (Frenzy—1972). It is as if the onto-genesis of the Hitchcockian symptom were unfurling itself like an origami. From Dial for Murder  (1951) to The Birds, there is a crescendo in what could be called the failure of the fight or resistance staged by the Symbolic against the disrupting intrusion of the Real, as if a magmatic brew under the crater of a volcano had been percolating before erupting in a grandiose/grandiloquent paranoiac cosmic way with The Birds(1963) where nature punishes mankind. In The Birds (1963), a grand coalition of the “bird genus” attacks the humans of Bodega Bay. Using the birds as proxy, something comes out of the Real to literally pick out the flesh and eyes of people: the symbolic castration has migrated from the Symbolic into the Real, losing its very symbolic dimension, because it was barred (negated) in the first place. These image-objects no longer signify but “significate.” They not only participate in the general innerly (internally) duplicated structure of Hitchcock’s movies but help “invaginate” (turn upside/down and inside/out) the very filmic surface (most famous example is Psycho’s shower sequence (1960) when the camera’s gaze following the water stream from the showerhead, disappears counter-clockwise into the shower drain in order to reappear a few seconds later  out of Janet Leigh’s dead-open pupil and eye. The famous shower scene illustrates the passage from one black hole and the re-emergence on the other side…. Where does the camera gaze disappear when it focuses down into the drain…. The traditional description of this hallucinating shower scene falls short of expressing the whole uncanny and metaphysical/cosmic dimension of the sequence:

“ in one of the most brilliant images in any film—we follow the bloodied water spiralling down the drain. In an extraordinary lap dissolve, we emerge from the darkness of the drain ouf from behind her eye, open and stilled in death. The journey into the depths of the “normal” psyche has ended in tragedy.” [x]  Something is slowly but inexorably spiraling out of control in Hitchcock’s films.

 

Let us draw a list of these paradoxical hallucinatory image-objects.

1)       the drums, hammers and cymbals in The Man who Knew too much  (1956). Metaphorically and metonomically they are linked to yonic and phallic representations as well as to death and castration, as well as ears and crushing sound-reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch ’s ear/knife juxtaposition in his Garden of Earthly Delights (1490-1510).

2)      The monumental objects which are at once part of the local color (iconic clichés), or part of a giant man-made the landscape. They participate in the wide-ranging symbolic dramatic dimension of the film (as diegetic elements), are invaluable parts of the plot, but also are symptoms of the intrusion of another dimension, the Lacanian  Real , referring to what Slavoj Zizek calls das Ding –or the unavowable incestuous object of desire. Some examples of those “image-objects”: the Dutch windmill of Foreign Correspondent (1940), the giant Statue of Liberty crawled over by Robert Cummings in Saboteur (1942) as well as the penile, giant heads and skulls (also seen/represented from the back) of North by Northwest (1959) gazed at by Cary Grant and crawled over by him and Eva Marie Saint (reminiscent of Baudelaire’s Giantess ), the black ship hulls (obviously cartoonesque) at the end of the street in the Baltimore harbor where Mother lives (Marnie—1964).

3)      The spy present in many of his movies. As a foreign agent/saboteur, he represents a foreign matter, analogous to the embodiment of the problematization of the gaze: 1) the blot  2) the fascinum in the scopic field. The blot is the sign which is not the sign of anything (the Lacanian Real). For instance, in North by Northwest or in Sabotage/Saboteur, the foreign element crawls onto a monstrous monumental head or sculpture (real representation of a giant head as phallic incestuous mother).

4)      The locks, spiral twists, helix-like curls or shocks of hair marking/affecting the hairdo of Hitchcockian women. Especially in the later movies, it leaves exposed a large white forehead giving to the face a penis-like appearance.

This frozen dimension of his symptom, its eternal temporality inscribes itself in a continuity, shaping his filmic form into a continuum. For Hitchcock, history is a stretched topology. This is why his filmic textuality is so open to psychoanalytic penetrability. It is also why all his movies have this special, slightly passé (or classy) type of melancholia which often comes out via the music in the sound strips of his films. The way he also graphically deals with his symptom makes Hitchcock a political conservative—something re-enforced by his aesthetics and values. Hitchcock was a multilayered “scandalographer” (murder he wrote and filmed) using and playing with anecdotes, clichés, puns, recipes—the ingredients of suspense. But the  Hitchcockian  suspension of disbelief of narrativity (mixing serendipity and black humor–a special British ingredient) allowed, unbeknownst to the audience, for the free play/ expression of his symptom. Suspension turns into suspense allowing for the insinuation of his own fantasy into the audience’s fantasy. He played tricks on the spectatorship, at their expense, revealing their own “hidden” truth, their own symptom (Hypocrite lecteur, mon semblable, mon frère….).[xi] His own calculated and controlled sadism aroused the audience’s voyeuristic and sadistic fantasies, making them accomplices in his own dark phantasm and symptom. At his most scandalous, he make the others “pay” for his symptoms (like a serial killer),[xii] by coaxing, seducing, terrorizing, fascinating them into enjoying their suspenseful representation.

The key to Hitchcock’s scandalous mise-en-scène is contained in the way he uses the gaze of the camera and the gaze of the spectator. It is also indicative of the seriousness of his symptom and the creative way through which Hitchcock alleviates it. He uses the troubling implications harbored by the duplicitous dimension of the look, turning around the spectatorial discourse of looking inside-out, “invaginating” this gaze and locking it until the climactic end.

As Lacanian praxis and theorizing has shown, the unconscious works (speaks) through assemblages of letters, pieces of the Real which work on the materiality of the signifier [xiii] which are unique to each individual, and which associate themselves unconsciously as partial objects or objects having departed (been cut off) from an  impossible wholeness, the Mother. They form an amalgam, or a “pure singularity” with a center of accretion and a horizon, like a cosmic black hole, as metaphorized by Slavoj Zizek. It corresponds, of course, to the object a of Lacanian  toponomic algebra.[xiv]

Hitchcock’s movies are at once the product of a repression and a fundamental foreclusion where the preconscious or primary process and the secondary process organize themselves into a phantasy, a coherent story, directly linked to the unconscious phantasy—yielding what Freud called a “half-breed” (hybrid).[xv] The obsessional metaphors in Hitchcock’s movies cause the filmic dimension to go beyond the simple story-line of pure entertainment to become the tell-tale figures of a tragic discourse masquerading as entertainment. Here a fiction of the unconscious becomes the unconscious of a fiction redoubled by the fact that Hitchcock’s world is his representation as well as his dream. In fact Hitchcock hesitates between the two sides of the same coin in movies such as Spellbound (1945) or Shadow of a Doubt (1943). This hesitation allows Hitchcock to not totally identify with his symptom (of which he was very certainly quite conscious—up to a point of course), and to create an opening where he inserts himself as ironic by-stander (cameo appearance). From the beginning to the end, his symptomatic creativeness inscribes itself in a temporal loop which strangely parallels the analytic experience. Beginning with the same obscure, undecipherable persistent ciphered and incomprehensible “image-message” like a message in a Klein glass bottle (“through a glass darkly’), except that the bottle follows a definitely oriented current/stream–as if Hitchcock had become a sinthom e, i.e. a subject that enjoys his symptom and has gone through his fantasy, who has gained a distance from  this fantasy-work/construct, but a subject whose symptom still endures, still attached to this impossible object of enjoyment incarnated in/by the mother. This fundamental fantasy gives consistency to a Hitchcockian side as more or less incarnated by his protagonists/heroes (acted out by Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart rehearsing Hitchcock’s self-doubts, disguised/metaphorized under avatars such as castration anxiety, paralysis, fear of heights, over-bearing maternal possession (Marnie/ North by Northwest…).

Certainly unbeknownst  (up to a certain point) to Hitchcock, recurring shapes/ forms/patterns symptomatically inform/reform/deform/puncture the textual surface of his films, the self-enclosed linear narrative. These peculiar images are the results of a censorship overwhelmed by the successive, unrelenting blows of an unconscious bent at expressing an “out-of-the-box” maternal drive (a fundamental “desire”). These obsessional object-images must be read at the level of the letter of Hitchcock’s discourse that his movies constitute. It is not a question of decoding them as if there were a one-to-one correspondence between these filmic images/objects and Hitchcock’s scenic indications or even intentions. It is more a question of deciphering them as if one were dealing with a superimposition of staves on a musical score.  Hitchcock’s movies have to be taken à la lettre, as if dreams and analyzed semiotically, i.e. at the level of their filmic signifiers (moving images),   and not only at the level of first/surface meaningfulness or even at the level of their latent content.

These obsessional traits come out of the “bone of the symptom,” out of which the artist draws the substantial marrow feeding his creative act/move, which is why Lacan believed that there was more truth in the “special saying” that is art, than in all other discourses because art is directly more engaged in the Real of the symptom than in the reality of the Symbolic which often derives its symbolism from a natural analogy. At its most radical and seminal, art often locates itself beyond the Symbolic with its array/panoply of words and speeches.

The image/metaphor/ hallucinated (and hallucinating) object of the symptom of Hitchcock is a variation on the skull with its dark open orbits, its dented jaws and its withered, coiled hair stuck to the cranium. This recurring object stands for the irreducible object of Hitchcock’s symptom in so far as it suspends (upends, punctures…) the truth of the Symbolic, of the “normal,” everyday story. It literally objects to the truth of a value which bases its economy on the truth, joy and normalcy of human life. This economy sustains itself on a fundamental illusion and lie that Hitchcock, quasi-sadistically deflates/punctures.  Hitchcock destroys/subverts/taints the symbols and myths that sustain our normal approach to the fundamentals of life: love and sex, romance and romantic illusions, family ties…

This truth of the symptom is superior (according to the old Master) to the truth that reflects itself as a mirage in the eyes and mirrors of our lives. It is the Real truth that Hitchcock tries to wrestle out of his actors—especially women, again and again, in a quasi ravishing manner (aka the ordeal he put Tippi Hedden through). Our hypothesis is that Hitchcock suffered from psychosis and that he uses his symptom as a creative medium as well as a cure. This explains very well the duplicity of Hitchcock who lies with the audience and the subject matter (going to the extreme of even playing directly with the topic of psychoanalysis–

Every author puts a little bit of himself in his characters. Hitch as subject put more than he knew in his movies, because he was submitted to the machinery of the “other scene” or scene of the barred Other. He was defined up to a point by the m(o)ther scene not framed/limited by the Big O(ther). Hitch’s film-making exemplifies the work of the cinematographic apparatus as automatic writing/inscription of the other scene with a certain robotic dimension attached to the characters which then take on puppets’ or dolls’ roles. Hitch’s artifact verges on the artificial. Vertigo could be interpreted as the making of an imaginary doll—prefiguring the ‘perfect,’ ‘artificial’ women of Stepford Wives. This Hitchcockian fantasy is not based on the normal/normative fantasy of the displacement of desire onto the “other scene,” typical of the structure of the Freudian pleasure principle and the repetition principle, but a return to the primary scene (as illustrated by the origin of Marnie’s symptom.) The mechanical repetition of the syndrome and actuation of symptoms can be masterfully followed from film to film. The mechanical dimension, product of the rhetoric of the unconscious, works along a three-tiered path. As Slavoj Zizek explains, the Hitchcockian subject (character/hero/victim) is the tool of the orchestrated mechanical machination he produces (suspense, horror, etc…). Hitchcock himself is the victim/subject/tool of this machination (caught in the loop of his own machination). At another level, he is the tool with which “being” poses its question—the being before being, i.e. before the enactment of desire which wants lack, when the ego still pines for the mother. In this sense the cinema of Hitchcock is a cinema of the m(o)ther scene.

Hitch’s cinema more than any other exemplifies the impossibility of the desire to finish the project of coming to terms with the original power-house of desire, i.e. the primary wound. This desire about/of a desire launches the subject into an endless deferring from film to film, although Hitch in a very calculated move progressively zeros in on his symptom with the final cinematic crisis (The Birds).  Hitch’s project is, from the beginning, doomed to incompletion and repetition since, as cinema of desire, it is fundamentally structured by the impossibility to come to terms with the desire. Desire is locked into a refusal of the signifier which brings about metaphorical substitution and locked into a lack of being which brings metonymic displacement.[xvi]

But the progression brings to life, animates and (re-)creates the symptom.  The machinery of repetition accelerates until the ultimate “passage à l’acte.” One can follow its metamorphic transformation from the stuffed birds, the stuffed mamma’s boy and the stuffed mummy of Psycho to the active, live, apocalyptic birds, the possessive but controlling live m(o)ther, the active and responsible mother’s son and the free-spirited, but in the end catatonic blond doll of the Birds.



[i] This essay in response to Sacha Gervasi’s movie Hitchcock (2012) adapted from Stephen Rebello’s Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho.

[ii] This essay follows the work of the late Thierry Kuntzel and floats along in the wake of the seminal work of Slavoj Zizek.

[iii] This is why in Hitchcock’s movies the exterior of the field of vision is heterogeneous to its interior (in contrast to the classical or poetic realist films of the 30s and 40s such as the humanist films of Renoir) and why the naïve opposition between “hard reality” and the “dream-world” is problematized or displaced.

[iv] Peter Conrad. The Hitchcock Murders. Farrar, Strauss and Giroux. New York, 2000. xii.

[v] Hence the title one of Slavoj Zizek’s books.

[vi] Peter Conrad. The Hitchcock’s Murders. Faber and Faber. 2000.

[vii] Karen Horney in Our Inner Conflicts wrote that “analysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itself still remains a very effective therapist.”

[viii] Except maybe in The Man who Knew too much (Cary Grant) and the C.I.A. operative in North by Northwest. In Notorious (1946) Alicia (Ingrid Bergman) is caught between her Nazi husband or father –image and her love for the American journalist-spy Devlin (Gregory Peck). In Shadow of a Doubt (1943), the father of young Charlie (Henry Travers), doubled by his acolyte Jack, is a bumbling idiot, etc. In these darker movies of the 1940s, the story is generally related from the point-of-view of a woman caught between two men. A connection exists between the impotent, helpless father/father figure and the woman’s perspective. This is reminiscent of Lacan’s famous quote “What does the hysterical woman want?… A master but one whom she could dominate.” In Rebecca (1940), the heroine (Joan Fontaine) is married to a helpless, mournful, castrated husband still under the influence of his dead wife. This is reminiscent of the Bronte sisters’ novel Jane Eyre, where, at the end, the heroine is happily married to a blinded, helpless, father-like figure.

[ix]According to Lacanian theory, every screen of reality includes a constitutive ‘stain’, the trace of what had to precluded from the field of reality in order that this field can acquire its consistency; this stain appears in the guise of a void Lacan names object petit a. It is the point that I, the subject, cannot see: it eludes me in so far as it is the point from which the screen itself ‘returns the gaze’, watches me: the point where the gaze itself is inscribed into the visual field of reality.

In psychosis, however, objet a is precisely not precluded: it materializes itself, it receives full bodily presence and becomes visible–for example, in the form of a pursuer who ‘sees and knows everything’ in paranoia. In the Wrong Man, this kind of object which materializes the gaze is exemplified by the table lamp, the source of light. As Lacan says in his Seminar XI: ‘that which is light looks at me.’ ” Slavoj Zizek. All you Wanted to Know about Lacan and did not want to Ask Hitchcock. Verso Press. New York. 192.

[x] Donald Spoto. The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures. Doubleday & Cy. New York. 1992. 374.

[xi] Baudelaire’s introduction to Les Fleurs du Mal.

[xii] Like the serial killer Ed Gein that Gervosi’s movie Hitchcock uses.  

[xiii] Lacan Seminar XX—Encore.

[xiv] Cf Serge Leclaire’s work .

[xv] The Unconscious, vol xiv, p. 190, 1.

[xvi] Something well explained by Jean-Luc Nancy and Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe. The Title of the Letter. A Reading of Lacan. Suny Press. 1992.

Roger Burggraeve – Responsible for the Responsibility of the Other

RESPONSIBLE FOR THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE OTHER

Emmanuel Levinas gives to thought on psychotherapeutic counselling as ethical relationship

Roger Burggraeve (ethicist & Levinas scholar KU Leuven)

(Click HERE to open this article in the reader.)

From the thought of Emmanuel Levinas (1905-1995)[1] we would like to shed some ethical light on psychotherapeutic counselling but without entering into its specific aspects and methods. The central focus of Levinas’ thought, namely the I-other-relationship, serves as our starting point. In its modality as counselling, psychotherapy likewise unfolds as a relationship between the therapist as ‘I’ and the client as ‘other’ (without being reduced to those roles). Hence we start with Levinas’ description of ‘my’ relationship to the ‘other’ in order to show how this relationship displays an unmistakable ethical structure that exposes at the same time the fundamental structure of all psychotherapy. This fundamental ethical structure is formed concretely according to a double responsibility, as we shall later see, namely as a responsibility for the other that is at the same time a responsibility for the responsibility of the other, and which in turn also contains two dimensions. And since psychotherapy does not function in a vacuum but often takes place in an institutional context, namely in a psychiatric clinic, therapy centre or residential setting, we shall also reflect on that aspect at the end of our essay – like an open conclusion – paying special attention to the opportunities and risks of organised psychotherapy and to the ‘small goodness’ that accords a specific hue to the responsibility of the therapist for the client.

 

1. Therapy as the heteronomous experience of the other’s face

The starting point for every counselling is a simple act, or rather a ‘radical fact’ or an ‘absolute or pure experience’, that at the same time is also an ‘heteronomous experience coming from elsewhere’ (TI 67) – “a traumatism of astonishment” (TI 73) – namely the fact that the therapist is confronted with the client as ‘other’. Put in a Levinasian manner: in the direct encounter with the client, the therapist is faced with the ‘epiphany of the other’. In the encounter, which forms the basis for therapeutic dialogue, the other reveals itself not only as separate but also as distinct from the therapist. That is precisely what Levinas calls the radical alterity of the other. In his first major work Totality and Infinity (1961) he speaks of the ‘exteriority’ of the other, by which he does not mean a spatial distance that can be bridged or not, but rather a qualitative difference of irreducibility: “the alterity of the other person is the only model of exteriority, where space does not come in between” (RTJD 225).

 

1.1.The client as other is invisible

In the concept of ‘alterity’ lies both a negative and a positive dimension. The negative dimension means a denial of the knowability of the other. The alterity of the other lies precisely in the fact that the other constantly transcends our observation and our knowledge. What is constitutive of alterity is that the other never coincides with the image and the presentation that we make of her or him. As the other, a counsellee always eludes, up to infinity, the image formed by the therapist. The distance of this surplus remains insurmountable, notwithstanding all attempts at bridging the gap. The other presents oneself to me as a ‘withdrawing’ movement, or rather as a ‘withdrawal in the withdrawal’, a withdrawal that never weakens. The client is always infinitely more than the images, presentations and interpretations that the counsellor can design of the other. Even though the other has her or his physiognomy and personality, and thus her or his recognisable calculability, the other’s epiphany still consists in shattering one’s own image and appearance time and again. The other escapes essentially from every typology, characterology and classification, in short from all (professional) attempts by the therapist to understand and fathom the client. In this sense the face of the other is essentially, and not provisionally, a movement of retreat (anachoresis): ‘The other is invisible’ (TI 34). It is a veritable paradox: the other appears by means of disappearing, stronger still by means of withdrawing oneself from one’s appearance as an inaccessible secret or mystery. The other is a presence that immediately renounces itself: an apostate or ‘heretic’ to itself. The counsellee is literally ‘extra-ordinary’ and ‘e-norm-ous’, beyond all order and norm, the purest ‘anachronism’, an essential conundrum: the unsurpassed enigma that brings the counsellor to confusion. The epiphany of the other confronts us with the other as a stranger, or better as ‘the stranger’ par excellence. The epiphany of the counsellee makes any kind of curiosity ridiculous (OB 90-91).

 

1.2. The client’s face as expression: looking and speaking at me

This rather negative description of the alterity of the other has a clearly positive meaning, however. The basis for the unknowability and irreducibility of the other (the counsellee) to her or his image and appearance is indeed her or his “manifestation kath’auto” (TI 65), and that is precisely what Levinas labels as the face. The face is at the same time a form and a shattering of this form. It is ‘expression’, or stronger still ‘self-expression’: “it is a presence before me of a self-identical being” (FC 41). The other manifests oneself out of oneself, and not on the basis of one’s (psychological, relational, economic, social, cultural) context: “The sensible presence of this chaste bit of skin with brow, nose, eyes, and mouth is not a sign making it possible to ascend toward the signified, nor is it a mask which dissimulates the signified. Here the sensible presence desensibilises to let the one who only refers to oneself, the identical, break through directly” (FC 41-42).

According to Levinas, the expression of the face occurs in an eminent manner in the look. The possible nakedness of the other can be covered or disguised by using cosmetics or makeup. However, there is one zone of the face that cannot be made up or embellished, namely the eyes (even when the area around the eye – the eyelid and the eyebrow – can be made up): “The eyes break through the mask – the language of the eyes, impossible to dissemble. The eye does not shine; it speaks” (TI 66). The concrete shape of this direct presence is the look: “This way for a being to break through its form, which is its apparition, is, concretely, its look, its aim. There is not first a breakthrough, and then a look; to break through one’s form is precisely to look; the eyes are absolutely naked” (FC 20). They are the most unprotected part of the face. Thus the look is the most direct and personal presence of someone else who looks at me. Hence for a therapeutic dialogue it is of utmost importance that the client gets the chance to look at the counsellor, which implies that the counsellor will also look at the client: to divert one’s eyes would then mean a refusal of contact and encounter. When both look at each other, they encounter each other directly. The look of the client is the other itself, that gazes at the therapist in absolute directness and frankness, and thereby speaks to the therapist. In other words, both do not originally stand beside each other (Miteinander), as Heidegger posits, but facing each other: ‘eye to eye’. And it is precisely this directness of facing each other that makes possible both the sincerity of the (therapeutic) encounter as well as the invitation to it.

The expression of the look refers, as was already made apparent inadvertently in the description above, to language or rather to dialogue. “The epiphany of a face is wholly language” (PIF 55). This language, however, should not primarily be understood as an objective linguistic system but rather as the fact that the other speaks to me and vice-versa. This is not about a discourse but an ‘invocation’ and ‘response’ between two people who direct themselves to each other and speak to each other. “The claim to reach the other is realised in the relationship with the other that is cast in the relation of language, where the essential is the interpellation, the vocative. The other is maintained and confirmed in her or his heterogeneity as soon as one calls upon her or him, be it only to say to her or him that one cannot speak to her or him, to classify the other as sick, to announce to the other her or his death sentence; at the same time as grasped, wounded, outraged, the other is ‘respected’. The invoked is not what I comprehend: he is not under a category. He is the one to whom I speak” (TI 69). By means of the fact that either the therapist or the client addresses the other, the counsellor and the counsellee are detached from themselves and appealed for a response. The word of the one elicits the counter-word of the other. And the fact of this dialogue that precedes every content is the first and most fundamental ‘miracle’ of the encounter between persons, a client and a therapist (ET 28).

 

1.3.The asymmetric reciprocity of therapy: the client as other is my master

This reciprocity of speaking to each other, however, is neither neutral nor formal, but a qualified reciprocity in the sense that the dialogue is marked by the primacy of the other. The other comes before me: her or his speaking is the basis for the therapeutic encounter. Both the fact that the client as other speaks to the therapist and what the other consequently says establish the counselling as dialogue itself. The other is my master: by means of speaking to me the other does not only express her- or himself but he also ‘teaches’ me. Even though it is possible that by means of her or his address the counsellor elicits the word of the other, still the word of the client comes first. By means of speaking, the other indeed determines and orientates the dialogue. In this regard, the speaking of the other can in no way whatsoever be reduced to one or the other form of Socratic maieutics (TI 171). The word and the first content of this word, namely the alterity of the other, comes to me from elsewhere and contributes more to me than what I find and contain in myself (TI 51). The word of the counsellee does not arouse any idea that was already slumbering in the counsellor; it teaches the therapist something completely new: “the absolutely new is the other” (TI 219). If the other were not to speak to me I would neither experience nor know the other in her or his alterity. In that sense is the other my teacher, who educates me masterfully about her- or himself, without my having possessed this education already in the depths of myself – as a source of affinity and recognisability – or my being able to let it simmer up from within me (TI 69). Hence Levinas states, making use of religious language, that the other who speaks to me ‘reveals’ oneself and thus is a radical, heteronomous – not religious but experiential – form of ‘revelation’. Hence the first teaching of the other is the fact of one’s insurmountable alterity: “the first teaching of the teacher is his very presence as teacher” (TI 100). The therapist cannot foresee or predict the word of her or his client entirely. He or she is not the designer who takes initiative; on the contrary, the therapist is the one who receives, listens, obeys – literally the one who gives ear (TI 69). This means that listening is the first way of answering, of being literally ‘repons-ible’ (cf. infra). In a qualitative psychotherapy before everything else the client is given and granted the word. This is made possible by the attentive listening by the therapist to the client. For that, a certain reserve from the side of the counsellor is necessary, in the sense that he or she guards oneself from speaking all too much and thus determine, or even through the overflow of eloquent words ‘terrorise’ (cf. infra), the other. The asceticism of listening more than speaking also implies the ‘silence’ of the therapist, to be sure on condition that it is not an indifferent, all too politely distant, rhetorical, or even an icy and aggressive silence, but rather a silence that contributes to the creation of a ‘terror-free zone’ (cf. infra) wherein the client is given the chance to be present and to speak as other. Listening implies being able to keep silent, but the silence must also be a sincere listening, otherwise the moments of silence, whether long or short, become unbearable. This careful listening also implies that the spoken word of the face-to-face takes priority over the written word: “Oral discourse is the plenitude of discourse” (TI 96). The one who speaks assists oneself in order to illuminate one’s word (TI 98) and to correct or even to contradict the interpretations of that word spoken by the counsellor (TI 91). This possibility of ‘contra-dicting’ – speaking again, or literally anew – is essential for therapy as dialogue.

All this means that a therapist is no longer the ‘lord and master’ of the therapeutic dialogue. Ideally speaking, counsellors learned from their professional formation and position to discern and to adjust their position as a superior. To be counsellor requires a constant conversion in the literal sense of the word, namely a reversal of the order: by means of one’s epiphany and speaking, the client becomes the master and teacher to whom the therapist must listen humbly. It is not I, the therapist, who stands at the centre of attention but the other, the client. The other appears as the superior who exercises authority – not to be reduced to power – over me: “To approach the other in conversation… is to receive from the other beyond the capacity of the I” (TI 51).  Perhaps the therapist indeed has something to offer, but first the client must acquire the space to express oneself and to speak. Every therapeutic relationship must thus begin – and begin time and time again – with a form of humility and modesty. The client must tell the therapist about that which concerns oneself the most. This is a wholly different learning than Greek learning, based on ‘know thyself’ (gnothi seauton). In the relationship to the client, the counsellor learns not by descending into himself and drawing out from one’s deepest interiority the wisdom about all things, but by stepping out of oneself and standing open attentively for the other who reveals oneself by speaking to the counsellor. The relationship to the client as other is pre-eminently not an autonomous but a heteronomous event that is based on the counsellor’s awareness of one’s not-knowing. In this regard, the alterity of the client as the starting point for the learning of the counsellor is not only external but also prior and superior. As radical other, the client brings the counsellor round to lay down all pretence and to approach the client with diffidence and respect, so that the other can reveal one’s alterity in all freedom, at the authority of one’s alterity itself.

 

2.    The ethical dynamics of the therapeutic relationship

With this, however, we have already arrived inadvertently at the level of ethical reflection. Therefore we now direct our attention explicitly to the ethical dynamics of psychotherapy as an I-other-relationship (or even better as an other-I-relationship).

2.1. The therapeutic face-to-face as ethical crisis

Before we enter into the positive dynamics of respect, acknowledgement and responsibility in their different forms, we must first reflect on the negative ethical dynamics, namely the lower limit, that Levinas summarises as: ‘you shall not kill’. It is his foundational insight that a qualitatively ethical relationship between people – just as an ethically qualitative therapeutic relationship  – is impossible without examining the real possibility of an unethical (therapeutic) relationship, in the awareness that an ethically inappropriate relationship is also a relationship, and thus indeed has an impact on the victim of such an anti-relationship.

2.1.1.      The client as other is also vulnerable

Concretely speaking, we follow Levinas in his analysis of the ethical vulnerability of the other, whereby we focus on the vulnerability of the counsellee at the same time. Above, we spoke of mastership and thus about the authority and the strength of the other as ‘master and teacher’. But the strength of the face is also characterised by weakness, a very specific ethical vulnerability. Stronger still, the mastership of the face is based, upon closer inspection, on that vulnerability. The ‘hard and unrelenting’ alterity of the face consists in that the other is irreducible and unassailable in one’s being-other. But actually that is already an ethical statement, since the face can in fact be assailed, meaning to say it can be stripped of its alterity and thus be violated. The paradox is that the face appears in its epiphany as invulnerable, while at the same time it can be negated and humiliated in its alterity. Hence, according to Levinas the face also reveals itself as a “strangeness-destitution” (étrangeté-misère) (TI 75). Since the other comes ‘from elsewhere’, he falls outside the horizon of the familiar world of the ‘I’ (GCM 9). The other is literally a ‘foreigner’: utterly dependent on oneself and abandoned to one’s fate, completely defenceless, in need of help and without refuge, “not autochthonous, uprooted, without a country, not an inhabitant” (OB 91). The nakedness of one’s face runs through up to the nakedness of one’s body, which suffers cold and is subject to disease and ailments. And he is embarrassed by one’s nakedness, which also drives the other to camouflage one’s nakedness by means of all sorts of ‘false pretences’. In short, through the face – and the entire body is face – the other is exposed to all kinds of weather, to disease or old age and decline, and thus to loneliness, suffering and death: “Existence kath’auto is, in the world, a destitution” (TI 75).

In a very particular manner, this vulnerability applies to those who are marked by psychological suffering, including the relational, social and spiritual dimensions of that suffering. Not only does their suffering – depressions, fears, obsessions, corrosive feelings of alienation and absurdity, etc. – ultimately make them fragile and dependent, but the very fact that they have to seek professional help as well, in the awareness that on their own or merely with the assistance of those around them they may not get out of it all. Levinas compares psychological suffering even with physical ‘pain-illnesses’ (douleurs-maladies) whereby the cruelty of the pain becomes the central phenomenon of the diseased state and isolates itself in consciousness, or even absorbs the rest of consciousness. This same ‘pain-illness’ or ‘pure pain’ can sweep the persons who are affected by a form of deep psychic suffering: “the ‘pain-illnesses’ of beings who are psychologically deprived, retarded, mentally deficient, impoverished in their social life and impaired in their relation to the other person” (EN 80). This leads Levinas to label suffering as the ‘excessive’ par excellence, not in the quantitative but in qualitative sense of the word (even though the essential excessiveness of suffering is expressed most acutely in forms of severe suffering). Strictly speaking, all suffering is ‘unassumable’; it is refractory to the ‘I am’ or the mastership of one’s own life. Its fatality and therefore its passivity of ‘pure undergoing’ expresses itself in the incapacity – or the refusal – of consciousness to assemblage the data of life into a meaningful whole: “at once what disturbs order and this disturbance itself. It is not the consciousness of rejection or a symptom of rejection, but this rejection itself: a backward consciousness, ‘operating’ not a ‘grasp’ but a revulsion” (EN 78). Therefore suffering is experienced as ‘evil’, not to be understood as an absence of ‘good’ (privatio boni), but undergone as the ‘evilness of evil’, malignity par excellence (ES 131-132).

2.1.2. Temptation to violence in psychotherapy

By means of his essential and factual vulnerability and poverty the face of the other elicits in others the ‘temptation to indifference’, or even the ‘temptation to violence’ as Levinas formulates it in strong terms (EI 86). Although with this bold statement Levinas goes directly against the positive self-image that therapists cherish narcissistically about themselves, an honest appraisal of reality – especially the reality of themselves – still requires that they acknowledge their potential – direct or more often subtle – violence towards the other. It is only by means of this humility and wisdom that therapists shall be able to prevent and heal their ’predisposition’ to violence: “To be free is to have time to forestall one’s own abdication under the threat of violence” (TI 237).

The question now is, what allows for the fact that the ‘I’, in this case the counsellor, can be tempted to violence. For the answer to this question we must pay attention to the way in which Levinas describes the dynamics of existence of the ‘I’ (and thus of the therapist as an ‘ordinary’ person). Just like all other earthly beings the ‘I’ – as a being – is marked by the attempt-to-be. With a term from Spinoza, Levinas speaks of the conatus essendi (OB 4-5): “the natural tension of being on itself that I have alluded to as egoism. Egoism is not an ugly vice of the subject’s, but is ontology, as we find in the sixth proposition of Part III of Spinoza’s Ethics: ‘Every being makes every effort insofar as it is in it to preserve in its being’; and in Heidegger’s expression about existence existing in such a way that its Being has the very Being as an issue” (PN 70-71). The existence of the ‘I’, and thus of the therapist, is no blank page, no trouble-free existence, but a threatened, fearful and worried existence that displays the inclination – especially when threatened – to fold back into itself whereby it precisely becomes a subjective existence, an I-existence: ‘as-far-as-I-am-concerned’ (quant-à-moi). The attempt-at-being is from the very beginning an ‘effort-at-being’, literally an effort in order to be, a ‘struggle for life’ to use an expression of Darwin (AS 80-83). The exercising of this struggle for life is not so much about being strong but rather about being flexible. Thus the struggle for life as the capacity and the drive to adapt to changing, and especially threatening, circumstances. In this ‘clever’ struggle to exist the ‘I’ does not remain turning within itself and affirming itself (I am I), but steps outward in order to transform the other, namely the world, into its means, its house and environment (TI 116). Even knowledge is introduced in this project of self-unfolding that ensues from the finitude of the ‘I’, in the sense that the ‘I’ literally gets a grasp onto the world by means of developing and applying its knowledge as ‘understanding’. It is knowledge, therefore, in the service of the functional (‘economic’) transformation of nature into a life world for humans as egos. In this manner, the ‘I’ realises itself as an animal rationale: the animality of the struggle for life is raised to the human level of rationality, but this rational humanity remains at the service of animality (PM 169-172).

This dynamism of the attempt-at-being, however, does not only relate to the ‘other’ in nature but also to other people in the world. In its egocentric interest the ‘I’ is inclined to introduce even other people into one’s project of self-unfolding – or, if necessary, if they form too great a threat, to eliminate them. This leads us seamlessly to the ‘temptation to violence’, which Levinas repeatedly refers to when he explores the relationship between the ‘I’ and the other. The ethical benevolence toward the other is not self-explanatory; it is no spontaneous natural given for it must elevate itself time and again above the egocentric selfishness of the ‘I’ that as a ‘for itself’, in its fear for limitation, suffering and death, fights with suppressed energy and with all its means for its own existence.

The basic self-interest of the I strives ‘to reduce the other to the same’ (TI 43). This reduction is the core of all violence, whatever the form may be in which it incarnates itself: visible and direct or indirect, hidden and subtle; bodily or psychologically and socially; mild or extreme; individual or collective; profane or spiritual and religious. The concrete forms wherein Levinas discovers this violence are especially the following: the use or instrumental functionalisation of the other as a ‘means’ of one’s own self development; the abuse of the other, tyranny and enslavement; racism and anti-Semitism, hate and murder. In the context of our Levinasian interpretation of therapeutic relationships, we reflect on a few so-called ‘milder’, non-lethal forms of violence. Although they seem a far cry from murder and destruction, this does not mean that they would be ‘not serious’, meaning to say they would not imply any real violation of the other. Precisely in order to promote the ethical quality of therapeutic dialogue, they must be taken seriously.

 

2.1.3. Temptation to diagnostic violence in psychotherapy

Firstly, with Levinas we can point to ‘diagnostic reduction’, meaning to say to the inclination of the ‘I’ (therapist) to reduce the other (client) to her or his appearance (cf. supra). Thanks to my spontaneous or methodical and professionally developed observation – ‘vision’ in the literal sense of the word – I endeavour to focus on or get an image of the other, and to know and to understand her or him. By means of one’s face, which expresses itself physically in and through its plastic form, we get a view of the other thanks to one’s appearance, meaning to say thanks to one’s physiognomy, glance, facial expression – and, in extension, thanks to one’s psychological and social body, namely thanks to one’s character, relational network, social and cultural milieu. On the basis of our attempt-at-being and its egocentric interestedness we are inclined to approach the other in her or his observable and objectifiable appearance. Thus the other becomes accessible and understandable to us. Thus I come to know how to deal with the other and how to exercise power over her or him, so that he ‘contributes’ to my own happiness and self-unfolding. If therapists can make clear to their clients how well they understand her or him, they can then obfuscate how much their therapeutic action stands in service of the reinforcement of their own positive self-image as a person and as a professional. In the words of Levinas himself: “You turn yourself toward the other as toward an object when you see a nose, eyes, a forehead, a chin, and you can describe them. […] When one observes the colour of the eyes one is not in ethical relationship with the other. The relation with the face can surely be dominated by perception, but what is specifically the face is what cannot be reduced to that” (EI 85-86). It is of vital importance for every counsellor to realise how in the endeavour to gain good knowledge of the other, on the basis of one’s own perception, one can inadvertently end up in the risk of diagnostic reduction, and thus in the risk of a real, although not always acknowledged and thus subtle form of violence. In this regard, coming to awareness that one as therapist is liable to be tempted to diagnostic reduction is already an ethical awareness, namely that such a reduction is not allowed, in other words that one should not do violence to the other (which will be discussed further).

 

Temptation to rhetoric in psychotherapy

Another temptation in psychotherapy is that of rhetoric, “the art that is supposed to enable us to master language” (OS 135), and this art can corrupt dialogue in its true nature of ‘face-to-face’. Here Levinas follows in particular the view of Plato, who among others in the Phaedrus (273d) states that in our conversations we often rely on rhetoric in order to approach the other as “an object or an infant, or a man of the multitude” (TI 70). For that, rhetoric makes use of figures of language itself, so that the saying can appear in beauty – as a form of ‘appearance’: eloquence (OS 139). This applies not only to our daily conversations but also to philosophy, ethics, education and religion, jurisprudence and politics (GCM 7-8), and specifically to our psychological conversations and therapeutic interactions with clients. The risk is that a therapist tries to convince the interlocutor by using professionally developed psychological concepts and interpretations of all kinds of ‘syndromes’ as forms of linguistic magic. And as in all rhetoric, one ends up in the temptation to approach the other with a ruse – but that ruse is at the same time embellished in beautiful and elevated language (DF 277), whereby it is not always simple to unmask it as a form of abuse of power, or even of terror. In professional forms of interpretative psychotherapeutic discourse language becomes easily rhetoric and runs therefore the risk to degenerate into a form of violence, in the sense that it attempts to penetrate into the perception and the reason of the client via wordplays rich in imagery and hyperbolic figures of speech conveyed with the necessary pathos (0B 19). The conversation partner begins to think and to understand oneself differently, no longer in conformity with one’s own experience but according to the power of the speaker – and this, according to Plato, turns the speaker into a ‘despot’: probably a friendly and ‘convincing’ despot but still a despot. The risk of rhetorical violence can still be increased by the fact that different therapeutic schools exist like, among others, the psycho-dynamic and psychoanalytic, the cognitive-behavioural or behaviourist and systemic, the humanist or existential, and other possible combination of forms. Each school employs not only its own methodology and style but also its own conceptual framework and discourse, and does so according to its own rhetoric that reinforces itself in the discussion with other schools. Moreover, each school employs its own rhetoric strategies to attract clients…

Levinas can then also state that rhetoric, in more or less aggressive but subtle forms, making use of diplomacy, flattery, demagogy or compassion and altruism, does not approach the other ‘face-to-face’ but rather indirectly and obliquely. This does not mean that rhetoric reduces the other to an object. Rhetoric remains a conversation where despite – or by means of – the ruse and tricks of all kinds of figures of speech, one still remains addressing the other. But precisely by addressing the other as other, rhetoric competes for one’s ‘yes’ which constitutes exactly rhetoric’s ambiguity: a face-to-face wherein violence is done to the other at the same time. Rhetoric is therefore a specific form of violence and injustice, in the sense that one acknowledges the other by means of speaking to the other, but at the same time one tries to seduce the other to give oneself over to the speaker, in our case the therapist. Rhetoric is thus not about a form of violence whereby one launches frontally onto the other as an object or inert reality. The eloquent ‘I’, in this case the counsellor, launches onto the other, in this case the client, as a free being. Via the use of evocative, metaphorical language and reasoning as such, one attempts to penetrate the freedom of the other so that the other will agree freely with what is presented so meaningfully – and thus ‘beautifully’ (!) – in scientific and therefor professional psychotherapeutic language. At any rate, rhetoric will go at lengths to give the impression of free consent to the other. Against this background it is understandable that Levinas argues for the use of simple and direct everyday language (OS 138), although he is aware that even that language cannot do without rhetoric (TI 70). And if we were to keep silent in order to avoid rhetoric, that silence also becomes a form of rhetoric (BV 28). In extension to this, we thus argue for the use of sufficiently sober and brief, ‘naked’ everyday language in therapeutic conversation, certainly when it is about psycho-affective phenomena related to psychological health (or sickness). In that way, the misleading ideological use of all too grandiloquent professional-technical psychological metaphors can, or better should be avoided. And, by means of the use of simple, everyday language, the encounter itself between me and the other, between counsellor and counsellee, can especially remain primary – without being flooded by all sorts of eloquent forms and manners of speaking. One is then no longer concerned about the art of professional speaking but about the encounter with the other as other, whereby the presence and the word of the other take first place: “In everyday language we approach the other instead of forgetting the other in the ‘enthusiasm’ of eloquence” (OS 142).

 

2.1.4. Temptation to dominance and power abuse in psychotherapy

Another so-called ‘milder’ but yet strong, non-lethal form of inter-human violence, which can also creep into the therapeutic relationship, can be labelled as domination and power abuse. At first sight this seems to be a developed and extreme form of instrumental functionalizing of the client. Upon further consideration forms of power and domination come forth out of self-protection and fear for the power of the other who can equally be a selfish ‘I’, driven by its own strong struggle for life (especially because of its actual situation of alienation). In the psychotherapy, the exercise of power by the therapist remains a permanent temptation especially when the therapist feels threatened. Moreover, the possible misuse of power goes hand in hand with the power position of the therapist as a professional. This is no such temptation that a therapist can put behind oneself once and for all by means of a one-time decision at a certain moment. It can crop up time and again, since a therapist is not immune and perfect but rather a fragile being that can be pushed into the defensive on account of the context and the circumstances. Hence, vigilance and conversion, through ‘inter-vision’, remain necessary in order to accord the client with the deserved priority: ‘the other first!’

With Levinas we must also be aware that the striving for domination through ‘influencing’ and power can be tempted towards the ‘terror of tyranny’. Following Plato, for Levinas (FC 15-17), tyranny consists in an ‘I’ trying to subjugate others – but without killing them – in such a way that in one way or the other they give up their freedom to the ‘lord’, in exchange for the satisfaction of their needs (TI 229). This tyrannical penetration into, and seizure of freedom makes of its victims not only ‘slaves,’ but in its extreme form also ‘enslaved spirits.’ One no longer has an individual will; one loses her or his freedom to think and act. In its consistent form, this means that even the ‘capacity’ to obey an order – which implies freedom – is eradicated. An enslaved spirit acts out of ‘blind’ obedience. Here, ‘blind’ means literally that the ‘servile soul’ not only loses the experience of his or her autonomy but also of his or her obedience. There is no longer any ‘conscious’ obedience, but only an inner, irresistible ‘inclination’ and ‘drive’ to accommodate oneself to the powerful (TI 237). The inclination to submit becomes second nature, whereby the tyranny exercised no longer appears as terror (DF 149).

For an ethically authentic therapeutic face-to-face it is therefore extremely important that the counsellor is aware of one’s possible striving for domination, and of the possible inclination towards the subjugation and subordination of the client. In their existential (and sometimes also material) situation of need and necessity, clients can feel so weak and impotent that they would be prepared to become attached to the therapist who is assisting them. And a therapist can be tempted, in one way or the other, to bind and subjugate clients to her- or himself, that is to say to intimidate and manipulate clients so that clients surrender themselves emotionally and existentially to the therapist. Even though it appears at first sight rather far fetched and exaggerated, tyranny is in no way whatsoever impossible in a therapeutic relationship, precisely because the terror exercised can hide behind the pretence of the docile obligingness and unconditional trust of the client. And thus stories arise time and again – to name but one actual example – of forms of sexual dominance and dependence in therapeutic relationships, with all its pernicious consequences for the client. The latter is often very much aware of the serfdom (vassalage) but the gratification of amalgamating and ‘consoling’ dependence – and of the alleged power of the therapist – is so huge that this awareness of dependence is suppressed (cf. above on the servile soul), till… till one awakens later, which can lead to great shame and anger, not only towards the other but also towards oneself because one did not dare (or was not able) to resist…

 

Prohibition against crushing the other: the basic ethical condition for psychotherapy

The description of all these facets of the ‘temptation to violence’ was no neutral description, in the sense that they already proceeded inadvertently from an important ethical presupposition, namely the ‘prohibition against violence’, which has been interpreted time and again by Levinas in the unrelenting prohibition: ‘Thou shall not kill’ (EN 30). With this prohibition begins all responsibility and care for the other, and thus also of psychotherapy and counselling. This does disturb our romantic and naïve image of the therapeutic face-to-face, as if it would be based spontaneously, constantly and entirely on goodness, care and benevolence. Our analysis, in line with Levinas, of a few modalities of violence has demonstrated unambiguously how even therapeutic conversation can be subjected to violence and inauthenticity. A therapeutic dialogue is not automatically non-violent because it is therapeutic. Just like every human conversation it is potentially violent. Counsellors who are not aware of this run a great risk – greater than the risk of those who are indeed aware – of ending up in one or the other shrouded or direct form of violence. That is why an ethically qualitative therapeutic relationship begins with the awareness that violence is possible and forbidden!

We would now like to elucidate further what this prohibition signifies, paying special attention to its implications on therapeutic counselling. At the moment that I, on the basis of my attempt-at-being, am tempted by the naked and vulnerable face to reduce the other to one’s appearance or into a means of my self-unfolding, I realise that that which is possible is actually not allowed. This is precisely the core of the fundamental ethical experience that is aroused within the therapist by the face of the client. In the face the counsellor discovers oneself as potentially violent vis-à-vis the other. The face appears as opposition and resistance: it poses itself before the counsellor as a radical ‘halt’ or ‘no’, as an absolute resistance against all the capacities of the counsellor (PIF 55). This is not about a physical but rather an ethical resistance: a resistance of that which actually has no resistance. The banal factuality of violence “reveals the quasi-null resistance of the obstacle” (TI 198). Even though the face is not capable of resisting the factual violence, it still stubbornly remains speaking – without words or in an almost inaudible whisper – the defenceless word: ‘Thou shall not kill’ (OS 94). And of course we already know that ‘Thou shall not kill’ “does not signify merely the interdiction against plunging a knife into the breast of the other. Of course, it signifies that, too. But so many ways of being comport a way of crushing the other” (IFP 53).

Something very paradoxical is apparent here, namely that therapeutic dialogue – as a particular incarnation of inter-human ethics – begins as a shock experience, i.e. as the possibility and the prohibition to cause damage to the client, the other, by means of inflicting violence on the other in one way or the other. The therapeutic encounter begins not with a commandment that prescribes what the counsellor must do, but with a prohibition that indicates what is certainly not allowed. In the conversation that the therapist initiates with the client, the therapist is not primarily faced with the task ‘to do’ something, but rather with the warning ‘not to do’ something. An ethically qualitative therapeutic encounter begins not as straightforwardness and generosity, but as reservation and caution. The fundamental ethical feeling that is aroused by the prohibition against violence is a remarkable form of fear and ‘shuddering’ (OB 84, 87, 192, 195), not concern for oneself but the fear of wanting to kill the other. In this regard, Levinas likewise speaks of a scruple. Literally, the Latin scrupulus means a stone in the shoe whereby one cannot remain standing but is irked to start moving. Scruple is thus an unrest that has a bothersome effect, which is also characterised by Levinas as discomfort and shame: I am anxious that I might in one way or the other grasp and do violence, neglect, violate or damage, use and abuse, reduce to one’s image or diagnosis, manipulate rhetorically, maltreat, dominate or subjugate, in short ‘kill’ and inflict injustice to the other in one’s irreducible and wholly being-other, whereby the other is given over to me, depending on me (GCM 169). We can also label this first ethical movement toward the vulnerable other as “the apparently negative movement of restraint” (NT 126). Confronted with the principal affectability and factual vulnerability of the client, the therapist is demanded to restrain and to withdraw oneself. An ethically qualitative therapeutic dialogue begins as the paradox of the shrinking or ‘self-contraction’ of the therapist. It is not with impetuous haste that enthusiastically drives forward and thus threatening to crush the client, but with trembling and inhibition that the counsellor approaches the counsellee. Or to put it differently still, the ethical relationship of the therapist to the client begins as hesitation, embarrassment about oneself, a movement of self-questioning: ‘Oh my, what am I doing…? Am I perhaps too obtrusive, too rough, too self-assured and unconcerned? Or am I too concerned with myself and my own image or appreciation by others?’ The appearance of the other traumatises me so that I begin to feel uncomfortable (OB 51). “[The face of the other] calls into question the naïve right of my powers, my glorious spontaneity as a living being. Morality begins when freedom, instead of being justified by itself [being sure of itself in its naïve spontaneity], feels itself to be arbitrary and violent” (TI 84).

All this implies that an ethically qualitative therapeutic encounter cannot tolerate any form of violence by the therapist towards the client. This demand for non-violence is the primary ethical task of the counsellor, whatever the context of the therapeutic conversation may be. It is such a fundamental ethical task that it precedes all other ethical modes of approach to the client. Its fundamental character is at the same time wholly paradoxical since by not killing or by not using any (direct or indirect) form of violence, one has in fact not yet done anything. If a therapist refrains from violence, everything else still remains to be done, whereas through obedience to the prohibition the conditions for a salutary therapeutic interaction are created.

By means of the prohibition ‘Thou shall not kill’ and the ethical scruple or reservation that has been aroused within me, the radical asymmetry between me and the other – between the counsellor and the client – still becomes more visible than was already demonstrated above. The ethical prohibition instigates the “curvature of the intersubjective space” (TI 291). By means of the prohibition, the ‘I’, the counsellor, and the other, the client, are distinguished from each other in a radical way, not only phenomenologically but also ethically, precisely because they are placed before each other in ‘non-in-difference’. This difference does not depend on their respective, distinct qualities nor on their coincidentally unequal psychological dispositions and moods during the therapeutic encounter (TI 215). It lies in the ‘I-other-conjunction’ itself: by means of its demanding – forbidding – character, the face of the other – the client – stands as an authority above the counsellor. Out of its ethical ‘highness’ the face comes towards the counsellor with an appeal. With Levinas we can also call this the ‘sacred height’ of the face of the client (PIF 56). As such, the client as other is not the counsellor’s equal, but her or his superior: not only her or his master who teaches and reveals something radically new, as we saw above, but also a ‘lord’ who as a ‘Thou’ commands the therapist unconditionally from the eminent height of the other’s face: “The interlocutor is not a Thou, he is a You [pas un Toi, il est un Vous]; he reveals himself in his lordship” (TI 101). That is precisely the paradox of the epiphany of the face of the client: as the factually lesser and ‘needy’ one, the client as the irreducible other that speaks and appeals to the counsellor ethically is her or his superior, by whom the therapist must let oneself be orientated. Thus, the mastership of the other, the client, sketched above, is reinforced or rather ethically qualified. Thus the primacy of the other likewise acquires its full ethical weight. The other comes first, not because he or she is better or occupies a more interesting social position, but rather because in and through her or his face as ethical appeal the other exercises authority over the therapist, to be sure a disarmed authority because by means of its prohibition the face cannot force but only appeal to the therapist.

 

Psychotherapy as multidirected responsibility for the other

It is only by means of obedience to the prohibition against violence that in psychotherapy space is created for the positive interpretation and realisation of counselling as an ethical relationship toward the client, the other. Levinas characterises the positive ethical relationship toward the other with the synthetic term responsibility. In counselling, one strives not only not to inflict violence on the other but one strives also and especially for the well-being of the other as much as possible, whatever the methodological paths may be that a certain psychotherapeutic ‘school’ develops and applies.

 

3.1. Recognition and affirmation of the uniqueness of the client

Let us now look more closely upon this responsibility. Different dimensions can be distinguished therein. A first dimension of therapeutic responsibility has to do with establishing and promoting the client as a unique other. It is a responsibility that allows a client to raise her or his voice: the voice of the irreducible, lofty other, the true master and teacher for every therapist. This responsibility is more than not killing or not using violence. It is also the fundamental choice and attitude of acknowledgement and respect for the being-other of the client. Concretely, the therapist acknowledges the client by believing in that other. This means no subjugation of the other but a turning towards the client that confirms its alterity. By means of giving recognition to the client, the counsellor respects and confirms its face as an expression of its unique being-other: to show respect is to bow down before a being that commands me. Hence, Levinas can state that “speech is a relationship between freedoms which neither limit nor negate, but affirm, one another” (ET 43). By speaking to each other they bind themselves to each other, but at the same time they are not swallowed up in this dialogue: they remain transcendent with regard to each other. The reciprocity of this respect is no formal relationship of someone who speaks to someone else. On the contrary, it is about an ethically qualified reciprocity in the sense that the client, who is confirmed in its unique being-other and mastership by the counsellor, responds to this recognition with its word and story and thus also gives recognition to the therapist. This does not mean that a reciprocal recognition becomes the condition for the recognition by the therapist: the recognition of the counsellor remains asymmetric and unconditional.

An essential and at the same time concrete form of recognition in therapeutic dialogue consists in paying the necessary and deserved attention to the other as other: “the eminently sovereign attention in me is what essentially responds to an appeal. The exteriority of its point of departure is essential to it: it is the very tension of the I” (TI 99). This attention initially expresses itself (1) by the simple but not simplistic form of greeting the other – ‘good morning’ (bonjour) as a ‘first blessing’ (AT 98); (2) by addressing the other using the other’s ‘proper name’: the other not as a particular case of a genus but as unique ‘you’; and (3) by finally listening carefully to the other, as we already explained in the first part of this contribution. These are all forms of what Levinas calls ‘ethical courtesy’, incarnating the choice of giving priority to the other: “After You!” (IFP 47, 49).                                                    With Levinas, we can in psychotherapy call the special way to pay attention to the uniqueness of the other the ‘noble casuistry’ (LAV 121). The positive value of casuistry consists in that it constantly takes into account that which it faces along with the concrete situation of every ‘casus’. Or rather, it approaches persons and situations not as exemplary applications of a general principle or as a particularity of a clinical syndrome, but on the contrary, it approaches them in their irreducible and unrepeatable, ‘extra-ordinary’ uniqueness. We cannot deny that casuistry has often had (and still has) a pejorative reputation, often because of its own deficiencies. Some have employed this methodology hypocritically or even abused it in order to justify themselves or to judge (or condemn) others. Indeed, while painting a concrete situation, one can always find details to justify one’s judgement ideologically, whatever that judgement might entail. Nevertheless, casuistry is a matter of great importance for every therapy and counselling, as it is in essence the striving for an actual estimation, understanding and ‘re-understanding’ or ‘re-interpretation’ again and again of the unique person in her or his unique situation. It is especially the acknowledgement of the fact that a being finds itself before me that is utterly new or ‘hapax’: someone else – a wholly other – who is there for that one single instance, here and now, beyond every difference based on genus and species. In this regard, ethical casuistry is an eminent precautionary measure against every form of ideology and reduction, which makes of the singular case a concrete deduction of the general principle – bad casuistry (LAV 122).

 3.2.  Psychotherapy as responsibility for the responsibility of the other

After this general consideration of the therapeutic responsibility to acknowledge the client in her or his unique being-other and right to act, we would like to specify further the task of the counsellor by appealing to the way in which Levinas in his second major work Otherwise than Being or Beyond the Essence (1974) radicalises the idea of responsibility by describing it as “responsibility for the responsibility of the other” (OB 117). We can distinguish two aspects therein, on the one hand, the care for the responsibility of the other for oneself, and on the other hand, the care for the responsibility of the other for others.

3.2.1. Emancipatory aspect of the therapist’s responsibility for the other 

Our responsibility for the other indeed shows a remarkable paradox. Thanks to its heteronomous and altro-centric origin and orientation, it implies a transcendence of the attempt-at-being of the ‘I’, the therapist, as we explained above. But this transcendence directs itself at the same time to the attempt-at-being of the other, the client. It is not only the recognition of the client (‘other’) by the therapist (‘I’) that is important, but also the care for the ups and downs of the counsellee in its very concrete self-unfolding, namely the unfolding of its ‘attempt-at-being’ into an independent and free existence. In the therapeutic encounter, attention for the other must be such that the other is not reduced to an ‘object’ of responsibility, but rather be promoted to a ‘subject’ of responsibility. In that sense the claim of the client does not stand at odds with the radical heteronomous responsibility of the therapist, but the one has need of the other. The responsibility of the counsellor sees to it that the ‘mastership’ of the client, the other par excellence, which was made explicit above, takes on its true ethical form. By means of one’s responsibility for the client as ‘other before me’, the therapist makes real the ethical mastership of the other. The responsibility for the client implies indeed the essential care for his or her being independent or free from alienations, anxieties and obsessions and becoming mature, otherwise there is no authentic therapeutic relationship. The I-other-relationship is indeed, according to Levinas, only possible when the partners of the encounter are radically separate from each other and are not swallowed up in the relationship (and the conversation), but remain separate: “Simultaneously, in dialogue is hollowed out an absolute distance between the I and the You, absolutely separated by the inexpressible secret of their intimacy, each being unique in its kind as I and as You, each one absolutely other in relation to the other. […] On the other hand, it is also there that unfolds […] the extraordinary and immediate relation of dia-logue, which transcends this distance without surpassing it or recuperating I” (GCM 145). Or formulated still more pithily: “The same and the other at the same time maintain themselves in relationship and absolve themselves from this relationship, remain absolutely separated” (TI 102). What is remarkable here is that the relationship and separation do not stand side by side, but are mutually dependent on each other. The irreducibility between the partners of the dialogue is the condition for a non-fusional, non-violent encounter. And it is in and through such an encounter that they receive their separateness as well.                                                                       Thus the alterity of the client becomes, thanks to therapeutic dialogue and thanks to the responsibility of the therapist, confirmed and promoted. With Levinas we can call this the true miracle of therapeutic conversation, and of all authentic conversations. We would also like to call it the emancipatory dimension of the heteronomous responsibility ‘by and for the other’, whereby the evil – the real risk of paternalistic and moralistic tyranny – in therapeutic dialogue can be prevented. Or rather, this needs to be avoided at all costs in order to guarantee the ethical quality of therapeutic dialogue. The awareness that one can be inclined, precisely from one’s ‘power position’ as counsellor, to emphasise only the psychological, affective or existential ‘neediness’ of the client and as such make the other dependent or keep the other imprisoned in (the yearning for) dependence, forms an essential part of an ethically qualified therapeutic responsibility. The therapist who takes on correctly her or his responsibility for the client throughout the course of the dialogical interaction creates space and possibilities for the affirmation and development of the independence and responsibility of the client for oneself. This of course is not the same as denying unrealistically the dependencies and alienations or ‘demons’ with all kinds of old and new names that afflict and ‘possess’ the client, since this is probably the reason why the client has approached the counsellor. It rather means that one does not identify the client with these depersonalising dependencies and alienations, so that precisely in and through the encounter and the dialogue, space is created in order to tap the (realistic) potentialities of growth of the client. Authentic therapeutic responsibility means that the counsellor stimulates the client to express oneself and make oneself present in one’s unique being-other, so that the dialogue can unfold into a true partnership – without thereby destroying the ethical asymmetry: an asymmetric reciprocity. This emancipatory approach to the client as subject of its own attempt-at-being (conatus essendi) likewise implies that the counsellor appreciates not merely by acknowledging and by ‘resonating’ or ‘mirroring’ the contribution of the other, but that the counsellor also dares to react with questions and comments that contribute to the counsellee’s being able to express oneself more and better. Only thus can the banal and pitying sentimentalism of a merely ‘accommodating’ conversation be avoided. A real and robust, at the same time circumspect and respectful, therapeutic dialogue is based on the face-to-face of two unique persons that approach each other with an open view and that confirm each other in their unique alterity in and through this directness.

The emancipatory dimension of the therapeutic relationship should therefore not be understood incorrectly, as if the therapist would not be capable of being critical towards the client. The therapist is, after all, responsible for the well-being of the client. This is not the same as giving in time and again to the desires and longings of the client. What clients find (subjectively) important, namely ‘the good in their own terms’, is not automatically identical with what is (objectively) desirable or fair, ‘the real good’. It does not mean that one must not pay attention to the longings that clients express, and this with the necessary benevolence. The above-mentioned concept of emancipatory responsibility remains simply intact. It does mean that – on the basis, among others, of professional knowledge and wisdom – one must remain alert and critical in order to investigate, to weigh and ponder, in order to judge in one’s honour and conscience – without boldness but likewise without fear – about what truly contributes to the well-being of the client. This can imply that therapists choose not to give in to the requests of the client, especially if these requests are formulated as ‘demands’ and ‘rights’ in the form of pleading, insisting, urging (and thereby appealing to their fragility…). Think for instance of the situation wherein clients request for (strong) anti-depressants or consider them normal, on the basis of their non-relenting psychological suffering… . It is one thing to listen to the client and even take into account his or her refusals and resistance, even to the point when they say ‘no’. It is another thing to say no as a therapist, at times necessary however painful, to the desires of the client, when one is convinced that condoning them would simply be damaging or not helpful in the long run to their well-being. Precisely the responsibility of the therapist for the other implies that his or her alert and critical voice should not be obliterated in the therapeutic inter-change. By introducing in all honesty their reservation and critical reflection in the therapeutic encounter, therapists likewise acknowledge the unique being-subject of the clients. In and through the face-to-face of the one-before-the-other, the client is not reduced to an object but is promoted to a subject. And this in its turn is simply therapeutic, meaning to say healing and liberating for the client.

 

3.2.2.  Responsible for the client’s responsibility for the other

We need to go a step further, in a certain sense different from what Levinas himself says in his philosophical view on responsibility, even though he remains our inspiration for this new step. It is namely important in the description of the ethical structure and modality of therapy and counselling as responsibility for the other, not only to have an eye for the subjective side of the responsibility, i.e. the therapist’s being responsible, but also for the objective side, i.e. for the one to whom the responsibility is directed. If one pays no attention to the ‘object’ of responsibility of the counsellor, namely the client, this can give rise to pernicious lopsided developments so much so that the responsibility by the other (therapist) for the other (client) can be transformed into its own opposite. In concrete, applicable terms, the question indeed not only is what this responsibility means as choice and attitude for the therapist but also where it leads or should lead. If we do not pose this second question it is very likely that the therapeutic care for the other, with all possible effort and commitment, ends up in the contrary result for the client. That is why we apply the concept of asymmetrical responsibility not only to the therapist but also to the client, whereby it concerns two forms of responsibility that intersect each other. The responsibility of counsellors for their clients is only integral if it grows forth into a responsibility for the responsibility of those clients not only for themselves (cf. supra) but also and in particular for others. Levinas affirms explicitly that an ethically excellent existence consists in this: “to elevate the care-for-self of living beings to the care-for-other in man” (TN 1). In other words, if we only apply the idea of responsibility for the other to the therapist, our analysis falls short and gives rise to a one-sidedness with dangerous consequences. It is indeed not impossible that the engagement of therapists for their clients ends up in an egocentric and utilitarian result in the clients. The caring responsibility for the other, the client, can be very altro-centric and unselfish, but this can unintentionally entail as well that one leads the client – the goal of our responsibility – to a conventionally smug, self-sufficient life wherein what is only or mainly important is the care for oneself. To put this paradoxically, the altruism of the one can lead directly to a promotion of the egotism of the other. Not only the ‘I’ but also the other, the client, can be selfish, indifferent, rude, dominant, manipulative, exploitative, violent, tyrannical, racist, immoral in one way or another… Does a therapist for example have to accept a bullying client, an aggressive father, a sexist teacher, a paedophile’s abuse of children, sexist or racist utterances of intolerance, etc.? It is indeed contradictory to bend just an empathic ear to unethical proposals or evil behaviour of clients… Precisely for that reason, the emancipatory promotion of the other to free self-determination and creative self-expression, as sketched above, should never have the final word. In therapy one probably will not start with the other-oriented responsibility since – precisely from the standpoint of therapy – one is faced with the urgency to attend first to the psychological problems and needs of the client. Yet the ethical dimension of the responsibility for the other deserves a place in the therapeutic process. And this is non-committal: in no way should it be in principle neglectful or exclusivist. In other words, it is not about an optional possibility that could just as well be left out, but it is on the contrary about an essential dimension of the ‘integral human being’ – at which therapy is or rather must be directed (which is its global ethical normativity). People can be sick of too much ethics (for instance through a crushing awareness of responsibility and sense of guilt), but they can also be sick due to too little ethics! For that reason, the therapeutic dialogue must go beyond itself. Not only must it be the expression of self-transcendence in the therapist, but also in the client. Through the epiphany of the other, who come in their vulnerable existence, counsellors are made responsible for the responsibility of the other, not only for itself but also for others. In other words, the counsellor is faced with the challenge to take up her or his responsibility for clients in such a way that they are helped and stimulated to acknowledge and take up in turn their heteronomous responsibility for others. If this does not happen, the therapeutic guidance ends up contradicting itself, destroying even its own dynamism and meaning: in an extreme ethical attention for the client as radical other, that other is then only led to pose itself centrally at the cost of others.

Concretely speaking, this implies for therapeutic dialogue that, if necessary, one also confronts the client with the boundary rule mentioned above of ‘Thou shall not kill’ as an expression of the prohibition against violence, abuse, consumption, humiliation, indifference, exclusion, denial… In the non-violent space of therapeutic conversation, everything can be said by the client, but this does not mean that everything is allowed. If in the therapeutic dialogue the counsellor adopts only a ‘compliant’ and ‘understanding’ attitude and does not remain critically alert to the non-allowable boundary transgressions by the other, the counsellor then misunderstands and corrupts one’s own responsibility and the responsibility of the client. The client as well is responsible for ‘her’ or ‘his’ others, in community and society. Hence, in one’s responsibility for the client the therapist must not be led to the temptation by the uniqueness of the other to close up oneself in an exclusive in-crowd of the ‘I-you’ with the client. A counsellor must be alert time and again for the others with whom the client is also connected, beginning with the ‘hidden’ others of the client’s family, relational and social network, and cultural milieu. If one neglects the real responsibilities and connections of the client with those absent third parties, then one inadvertently encourages the egocentric utilitarianism, against which we have argued above. An ethically qualitative therapeutic dialogue should never enclose itself in the cosy in-crowd of only a mutual ‘I-you’. The therapist is tasked not only ‘to hear’ the voice of the vulnerable client but also ‘to awaken’ the other to a manifold responsibility, not only for oneself but also for others, not only for those who are near but also for the absent others with whom one is invisibly but no less really connected in society.[1]

Thinking through this idea of the responsibility of the client for others, we arrive at the insight that the prohibition ‘Thou shall not kill’ likewise applies to the attitude of the client towards the therapist. In other words, the client also has a minimum responsibility towards the counsellor in the sense that the client should not ‘kill’ the therapist, meaning to say inflict violence, menace or violate…. If the therapeutic encounter is truly an inter-human dialogue of two separate and distinct subjects, not only the client but also the therapist must stand up for himself or herself. Taking up responsibility for the client by entering into the therapeutic interaction does not in any way mean that the therapists lose or should give up their voice. He or she remains an irreducible, unique person who may – and must – ‘say no’ to the client that despises or attacks his or her dignity as a human being. Even if the counsellor in taking up responsibility gives full attention and priority to the other (cf. supra), this can never mean that the counsellor would let oneself be ‘killed’ (in any form whatsoever) by the client. That would a mistaken sense of responsibility: a detrimental form of altruism and ‘self-effacement’. Precisely because the therapist takes seriously the responsibility of the client for others, the therapist may and must protect his or her integrity in the therapeutic relationship.

Only thus does the therapeutic relationship fully embody what Levinas calls “the order without tyranny” (FC 23), and this in two directions. The ethical acknowledgement of the one (the counsellor) for the other (the counsellee) consists in questioning and avoiding all abuse of power and tyranny towards the other. In this sense the therapeutic recognition and promotion of the unique otherness of the other expresses the exigency of a non-violent face-to-face. Such a non-tyrannical relationship, however, cannot come from one side only, namely only from the side of the counsellor. It must likewise come from the counsellee. The client as other is vulnerable, indeed, simply by means of the fact that he or she appeals to a carengiver, a therapist or a counsellor. But the client can also abuse this vulnerability and even use it as a weapon of power not only to influence the counsellor (which can still be positive) but also to force the counsellor to take certain pronouncements, agreements or actions by means of some form of manipulation, humiliation, if not subtle terror. Hence, therapeutic counselling must be reciprocal on the ethical level: from both sides – not only from the counsellor but also from the counsellee – it must be non-tyrannical and non-violent. In that, both therapeutic counsellor and counsellee are radically equal and their relationship and dialogue must therefore be based on mutual respect (cf. also supra): “I recognize the other [the counsellee]; that is, I believe in her/him. But if this recognition were a submission to the other, the submission would take all its worth away from my recognition; recognition by submission would annul my dignity, through which recognition has validity. The term respect could be taken up here, provided that it be emphasized that the reciprocity of this respect is not an indifferent relation, and that it is not the outcome of, but the condition for ethics. To show respect cannot mean to subject oneself. The one respected is not the one to whom, but the one with whom one renders justice. Respect is a relationship between equals. And justice presupposes this original equality. All the slackness of the world filters in through friendly faces as soon as the relationship of mutual responsibility is suspended” (4ET 43-44, passim). Only in and through this ethical reciprocity, based on the ethical asymmetry of non-reciprocal responsibility – in the sense that the responsibility of the other for me doesn’t presuppose my responsibility for the other – the therapeutic relationship acquires its full meaning and quality, coming from the ‘I’ (therapist) towards the other and proceeding from the ‘other’ (client) towards me.

 

Concluding without concluding: Psychiatric care beyond therapeutic counselling

We certainly have not said everything that can said about psychotherapy as an ethical event. Due to the focus of this essay, we could not enter extensively into that. Yet we would like to call to mind a few aspects and view them, as in the foregoing reflections, in a Levinasian perspective.

Psychotherapy is not only a form of responsibility to ‘stand by’ the clients via counselling and to strive for an achievable form of ‘well-being’. Clients do not only need conversation and counselling but also care for their existence, their ‘being’. Hence, psychotherapy likewise needs to develop itself as a broader form of care wherein attention is given to the ‘being’ of the client. Counsellees are, after all, often people in ‘material’ need, usually as a consequence of their psychological disorder(s). They are also destitute creatures, marked by bodily shortcomings and needs… that as a result require deeds of assistance. “The other’s hunger – be it of the flesh, or of bread – is sacred” (DL XIV). And thus we cannot, ethically speaking, approach the other with empty hands; that would be a vain and hypocritical gesture. The relationship with the other does not take place outside the world like a sort of ‘elevated’ and ‘spiritual’ contemplation of his or her alterity or ‘mystery’, but only in and through the world. Our responsibility for the other is consequently entirely ‘earthly’ and thus requires the tangible, material gesture of ‘assistance’ to those in need, seeking an answer that is as adequate as possible to their needs. For that reason, Levinas labels this responsibility for the other become flesh as ‘work’ (HO 26-27) and  ‘diacony’ (HO 33). The word of acknowledgement must become flesh in deeds: ‘works of mercy’. The (often multi-faceted) ‘need’ of the other thus requires – demands – that we avail of all means and discoveries of a scientific and technical nature. In that way, responsibility by and for the other is transformed into goodness: “This is positively produced as the possession of a world I can bestow as a gift to the other – that is, as a presence before a face. For the presence before a face, my orientation toward the other, can lose its avidity proper to the gaze only by turning into generosity, incapable of approaching the other with empty hands” (TI 50).

The confrontation with the psychological suffering of the other, that mostly carries through to bodily – and psychosomatic – suffering, implies for psychotherapy the ethical demand to be more than the ‘answer’ of counselling, namely to develop itself into concrete forms of care and assistance. What is ‘peculiar’ – and at the same time the most evident – is that this tangible care for the destitute client – destitute as a consequence of or as an expression of his psychological problem – requires organised forms of assistance and aid. All sorts of goods and services are then concretely offered in the context of institutions and provisions, for instance psychiatric clinics and units or residential settings…. Here we arrive at Levinas’ view on the ethical necessity to organise the goodness of the one-for-the-unique-other in a social manner, and thus give it shape through ‘objective mediations’ (OB 157-159). The world is not only the two of us, but the three of us, the ten, the hundred, the thousand, the very many more. Hence, goodness must become fairness and justice whereby all people are treated equally. And since most others are ‘third party’, meaning to say not directly present, we have the ethical task to transform justice – which is inspired by goodness – into an organised, institutional, structural justice. Hence, giving shape to care for psychologically and psychosomatically injured people by means of institutions like psychiatric residential and care centres is not only a fact but likewise an ethical necessity. And this organised psychiatric care – in line with Levinas’ thought on organised responsibility for others ‘in the plural’ – cannot be left to the charitable generosity of a few and of private groups; it is likewise the ethical task of society as the structural responsibility of everyone and for everyone (OS 123-124). Here we come across what Levinas calls, following Aristotle, the ‘polis’ or the ‘political’ and the ‘state’.

But even with this affirmation of the ethical importance of organised psychiatric care that is worthy of the name humane, not everything has already been said. Time and again, Levinas emphasises that the final word never arrives, or rather should never be given to social systems, neither on the level of the state nor on the level of intermediary social, economic, financial, juridical organisations and structures. In support we cite a text by Levinas, which we slightly paraphrase in the context of his argument: “There are, if you like, the tears that a civil servant [and mutatis mutandis a representative of a social system] cannot see: the tears of the other. In order for things to work and in order for things to develop an equilibrium, it is absolutely necessary to affirm the infinite responsibility of each, for each, before each. In such a situation [of any social, economic and political order or system], individual consciences are necessary, for they alone are capable of seeing the violence that proceeds from the proper functioning of Reason itself. To remedy a certain disorder that proceeds from the Order of universal Reason, it is necessary to defend subjectivity. As I see it, subjective protest is not received favourably on the pretext that its egoism is sacred but because the I alone can perceive the ‘secret tears’ of the other, which are caused by the functioning – albeit reasonable – of the hierarchy [and administration] [in social organisations and institutions]. Consequently, subjectivity is indispensable for assuring this very non-violence that the state [and every social, economic, legal order] searches for in equal measure – but overlooking at once the unicity of the I and the other” (TH 23).

Hence for Levinas every political and social system needs to transcend itself, and thus every system of psychiatric care as well. A social system should never become a ‘definitive regime’ that determines and regulates in a total and absolute manner the demands for goodness and justice for everyone. Such a regime would be a totalitarian regime that pretends to know what the real and final Good is. Then the good is perverted into evil, in the name of the Good, which is unbearable. And those who have to undergo the system or collaborate with it will – hopefully – arrive at the moral indignation about the ‘evil of the system that elevates itself into the incarnation of the good’. Hence he points out the ethical necessity of questioning time and again every social system so that a better system can arise from it, without again labelling this improved system as the ‘final Good’…. Levinas does not refrain from arguing for a ‘permanent turnover’ in every social structure and organisation (). And hence in an open social system – in this case, an ethically dynamic psychiatric care system – there must room for appealing to human rights that primarily involve the rights of the vulnerable other. And appealing to human rights is not only a ‘right’ of the client but also and especially of the psychiatric caregivers. Precisely through the face-to-face dialogue with the client, the therapist is specially placed to discover how the psychiatric system works in an alienating or depersonalising manner on unique clients. This means that the therapist is faced with the appeal to give voice to the voiceless and to stand up for their rights within and against the system.

Last but not least, according to Levinas, those who bear responsibility in a social system, especially the individual caregivers and counsellors, are faced with the ethical challenge of the ‘small goodness’ (al petite bonté) (EN 199). This concerns a specific form of goodness as we have already described above, in relation to the social system, namely as the transcendence of the system, but also as the lever to lift and shake up the system so that it can become more humane. He calls this goodness ‘small’ because it proceeds from the unique ‘I’ (counsellor, caregiver) to the unique other (the vulnerable and injured client). It does what no other system, however well-organised, can do, namely address here and now the need of the singular other with a concrete form of assistance. This goodness is likewise small because it is everything but spectacular, because it wants to be everything but total. It is about a modest, partial goodness that does not pretend to solve everything at once and for all time, and thus create paradise on earth. With full enthusiasm and dedication, it does what it can, without wanting to have everything in its grasp. We can call this humility and modesty the parsimony of the small goodness. It is aware of its own vulnerability and finitude but for that reason it does not remain cynical or defeatist. It is this common, unremarkable goodness, however, that is and remains the ethical spark in a social system that time and again is inclined to stagnate. It protects the system from suffocating and thus suffocating or paralysing those persons involved – especially the clients but also the caregivers – through, among others, the temptation of comfort offered by ‘conventionality’ and ‘docility’ towards the system. Even though the small goodness is nothing more than a smouldering fire under the ashes, its flame can again bring about movement and change in an organisation, institution or structure running to a dead end.

To conclude, we let Levinas have the last word: “In the decay of human relations, in the social misery, goodness persists. In the relation of one person to another person, goodness remains possible. It puts all rational organization with an ideology and plans in doubt: the impossibility of goodness as a government, as a social institution. Every attempt to organize the human fails. The only thing that remains vigorous is the goodness of everyday life: the small goodness. This little kindness of one for another is a goodness without witnesses. That goodness escapes all ideology: it can be described as goodness without thought. Why without thought? Because it is goodness outside all systems, all religions, all social organizations. Gratuitous, that goodness is eternal. It is the feeble-minded [esprits simples] who defend it and work at its perpetuation from one being to another. It is so fragile before the might of evil [and before the might of the evil of good in social systems]. It is as if all the simple-minded would try to douse the worldwide conflagration with a syringe. For despite of all horrors man has brought about, that poor goodness holds on. It is a ‘mad goodness,’ the most human there is in humans. It defines humankind, despite its powerlessness. ‘It is beautiful and powerless, like the dew’ (Vasily Grossman). What a freshness in this despair” (AT 107-109, passim). Thanks to it, a social system – institution, organisation, structure – never acquires the final world on what is valuable and good. Thanks to it, the ‘ethical individualism’ (TH 24) of the responsibility of the one for the other – in this case, of the therapist for the client – gets not only the first but also the last word, without perverting into a promise of eschatological fulfilment and final realisation: “the good must be loved without promises”. Beyond the idea of the collectively organized Good a therapist incarnates, or better has to incarnate, “the goodness without regime, the miracle of goodness” (IFP 81): a pure goodness that promises nothing, but that likewise does not despair of the good. “The small goodness does not conquer, but likewise is not conquered” (EPA 47).

 


[1] In this context we cannot neglect referring to the impact that therapy – and thus the therapist throughout his or her counselling – has, not only on the client but also on the client’s ‘neighbours’. The face-to-face dyad of the therapeutic relationship cannot be isolated from its impact on the client’s ‘third parties’. Depending on the outcome of the therapeutic process, a number of others in the social network of the client are affected, for good or ill. For instance, it is possible that the emancipatory growth of the client due to therapeutic intervention means a loss for the partner or the family members of the client, or for the community wherein the client lives or works…. Even this relational and social ‘impact’ of counselling affects the responsibility of the therapist in the sense that this impact is likewise the ‘subject’ of the therapeutic dialogue.

Letter from the Editor

The Existential Psychoanalytic (& Phenomenological) Institute started eight years ago in coffee shops and free spaces in downtown Seattle.  At that time it was barely more than a reading group and a vision.  Since then, a small number of dedicated individuals have labored night and day to build a community of individuals who desire to make a positive impact on the world through the methods of phenomenology, psychoanalysis, Critical Theory, and all related reflective discourses.  We now have offices in San Francisco, Boulder, Minneapolis, and Missoula, and an intention to build new ones in other U.S. and foreign cities.  Our membership is now regional, national, and international, and we have integrated ourselves with a number of sister-institutes and organizations in cooperative collaboration.

Our activities have increased greatly: We now have a weekly radio show, several post-graduate diploma programs in advanced psychoanalysis and phenomenology, rigorous quarterly seminars, an academic press—and this journal.  In 2012, we published our very first issue.  This issue here is our second, and it tracks most of the presentations from the August 1-3, 2013, conference.  We have scheduled the 2014 conference, which will focus on eco-phenomenology and culture, as well as the 2015 conference, which will focus on literature.  I am delighted to have the privilege of writing this short letter to our readers, and hope that it conveys, motivation, and commitment of our institute members and conference participants.

At this year’s congress, we were pleased to listen to such valuable new ideas regarding the current state of matters in phenomenology, psychoanalysis, and Critical Theory.  The difficulty in the creation of useful and understandable dialectic in diverse discourses regarding subjectivity is evident but we must press on in our pluralist community.  Alienation between clinicians and theoreticians can be bridged, we believe, but only through artful structuralization of empathic discourse in a rigorous format. Even between members of the academy who operate in disparate fields, we perceive difficulty in the creation of a meta-textual account of the creation, operation, and development of subjectivization—that critical source of meaning that creates a world of dialogue, polemic, and praxis.  In some cases it is as if we are speaking foreign languages to one another, both literally and metaphorically.  There is, therefore, the related problem of jargon. Some of us believe that we ought to be able to express complex, technical ideas through the metaphors of natural, ordinary language; others believe that this is not possible, that we must construct refined, sophisticated languages that capture recondite concepts through them.  It remains to see how this discussion develops.

There is also the value question.  At the Existential Psychoanalytic Institute & Society we are always on guard against theory and practice that has little value for the betterment of the human condition.  We strive toward application and praxis that goes beyond the gamesmanship and scuttling about that is often endemic in academic conversation–parole–concerning the progression and development of theory.  Together in solidarity, most of us believe that phenomenology and psychoanalysis, their methods and expressions, can legitimately seek a home in application.  For example, psychoanalysis can be utilized outside of the clinic for cultural criticism, education, and mediation; Analogously, phenomenology can be useful for interior and environmental design, applied art, and natural science.  This is not say that we do not value clinical experience, as many of us are experienced and dedicated clinicians who defend anti-corporate/pharmaceutical methods with the help of our theoretical and trans-theoretical work.  In short, we are always vigilant about striving toward the Good in actions we undertake at the institute, which permeates all activities, including the journal.

Our mission is to develop and elevate the academic and intellectual standards of this journal. With each succeeding issue we hope to encourage, push, entice, and cajole our author-thinkers to transcend their limits.  In the future, we will contemplate issues that cluster around various themes or one of the various discourses that we practice. For example, in the future we may highlight applied phenomenology or classical psychoanalysis, Critical Theory or deconstruction/semiology.  We may revisit the ancient Greeks or Medieval Europe.  We may focus on clinical practice.  We will also expect more students, both undergraduate and graduate to participate; after all, they are the future; should I say l’avenir rather than le futur?  We owe great debt to our editorial team for their assiduousness and indefatigable commitment to aiding in the perfection of the work we publish.  They are not responsible for any mistakes, lacunae, or nonsense:  As Executive Editor, it is my privilege to take full responsibility for all errors and omissions.

Kevin Boileau
Writing in Missoula, Montana USA
Late summer, 2013

Editorial Staff

Executive Editor:

Dr. Kevin Boileau, Ph.D., J.D., LL.M.

Managing Editor:

Dr. Richard Curtis, Ph.D.

Associate Editors:

Dr. Steven Goldman, Ph.D.

Dr. Loray Daws, Ph.D.

Dr. Robert S. Corrington, Ph.D.

Joseph Scalia III

Ms. Emaline Friedman, M.A.

Production Director:

 Ms. Nazarita Goldhammer

Table of Contents

Presencing EPIS

2013 – Volume 1

Dedication

I. Dedication     We dedicate this issue of the Presencing EPIS  Journal to Father David A. Boileau, Ph.D., whose life and work continues to positively influence the course and direction of this Institute and its publications. For David A. Boileau

“Poetic & Philosophical Interlude”

From The Blue Pearl by Kevin Boileau, Ph.D., J.D.

 

 

When it stopped making sense

I let go of my desire and opted

Instead

For virtue and truth

Pushing away the noise

That pulls.

Fragmented slivers of perception

One after the other

Continue pushing each other

away

So that vision of the Whole,

impossible.

Thus, I am at once both lost and

liberated; looking for signposts

Along the way

Which

Always seem heralded by the blue

Iridescence.

The dark penumbra of the walking

park remains forever etched in my

Consciousness.  Unsure that I will

ever return to the shadows there,

I strain to recall her face

Calling.

Mother Death.  Sweet and bitter,

Soft and genuine.

Always with me speaking the

Words; there is more; there is more.

Do not be enchanted into egology.

Abjection rules.

And all the while the tall, large frame

of admonition walks alongside.

“Couragio!”

The royalist inside falters as the

Governorship wanes.

Lost.  Eroded.  “Couragio!”

EPIS Scholar’s Library

The

George J. Boileau

EPIS Scholar’s Library

 31 Fort Missoula Road, Suite 4
Missoula, Montana 59804

 The George J. Boileau EPIS Scholar’s Library is located in the heart of the historic Fort Missoula, in Missoula, Montana.  The Existential Psychoanalytic Institute & Society (EPIS) started the library in 2005 as an essential foundation of its regional, national and international interests in the advancement of science and culture.

EPIS is dedicated to providing a scholar’s library and workspace for scholars whose interests lie in the following fields:

 Psychoanalysis
Phenomenology
Critical Theory
Cooperative Conflict Resolution
Education & Literature
Mathematics/Human Sciences

 The library is named after George J. Boileau, a lifelong Missoula resident whose vision of life exemplifies the spirit of solidarity and genuine regard for the welfare of others to which the EPIS Institute aspires.

 The EPIS Library Trust also includes the following 2 annual scholarships:

 The John D. Goldhammer Memorial Scholarship
The Father David A. Boileau Memorial Scholarship

 Episworldwide.com

Letter from the Editor

When the Existential Psychoanalytic Institute & Society was first conceived and created, we imagined a reading group, a training program, and a professional network. Since then, over the past five years, we have accomplished all that and more. We now have learning centers in three cities, training programs, online education, seminars, a small publishing company, and our academic and clinical journal. The intent is to publish psychoanalytic and phenomenological articles that analysts, academicians, and other learned individuals find interesting and valuable. We do not follow any particular theoretical framework but instead prefer to philosophically and critically examine the various theoretical and clinical claims of those individuals who participate in the constellation of related contemporary fields. Presencing EPIS covers theoretical and clinical issues emerging from existential psychoanalysis, phenomenology, classic psychoanalysis, cultural studies, Critical Theory, post-structuralism, deconstruction, and fictional literature. The journal welcomes work addressing substantive and methodological issues in psychoanalysis and psychoanalytic psychotherapy, including ethical, political, professional, sociological, and historical ideas, especially as they relate to similar professional practice. Articles address theory, method, clinical case studies, previous articles, and research. The journal also has a book review and forum section for critical commentary on the journal itself. This is the first issue of the journal and, as with all new projects, we anticipate making mistakes and learning from them. We hope that our new readership will truly enjoy the work that follows.

from the desk of the Executive Editor
writing in Missoula, Montana USA
Dr. Kevin Boileau, Ph.D., J.D.

Table of Contents

Presencing EPIS

Volume 1

Table of Contents

I. Dedication Page:

“Poetic & Philosophical Interlude”

From The Blue Pearl by Kevin Boileau, Ph.D., J.D.

II. Letter from the Editor

III. Articles:

1. Husserl’s Psychological Phenomenology: Inverting the Transcendental

Julian Von Will, Ph.D.

2. The Psychology of World Views: Jaspers / Heidegger

Steven Goldman, Ph.D.

3. What is Spirituality?

Richard Curtis, Ph.D.

4. Expanding the Concept of Internal Object Relations: An Introduction to the Concept

of Experiential Horizons

Alberto Varona, Psy.D.

5. Culture, Alienation, and Social Theory

George Snedeker, Ph.D.

6. Philosophers, Cynics, Dervishes: An Inquiry

Peter Wright, N.D.

IV. Poetry:

1. Last Slope

George T. Boileau, S. J.

2. Prescience

Nazarita Goldhammer

V. Art:

1. Despair

Elizabeth Moga, M.F.A.

2. Self

Elizabeth Moga, M.F.A.

VI. Contributors

VII. Current Events

VIII. Back Page