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Psychoanalytic discourse in relation to the situation in historic Palestine is subject to both ideologically‐based and anxiety‐driven inhibitions and restrictions that conflict with the discipline's claim to be able to "stay with" difficult issues, to "think the unthinkable". This situation is understood as a social pathology, and its impacts are explored through a literature review (explaining the paper's length). It considers works that directly seek to protect Zionism from its critics, and texts whose purpose is to demonstrate the relevance of psychoanalytic concepts to the study of social injustice. The qualities of this contemporary discourse are considered alongside Freud's comments on the conditions for freedom of thought within psychoanalysis, and the example he provided in his comments on politics and society. Rather than a psychoanalytic contribution to understanding an issue of public concern, the paper attempts to describe aspects of psychoanalytic culture itself. It aims to facilitate deeper reflection amongst clinicians, on both an individual and collective level, regarding their contemporary engagement with coloniality and the social responsibilities of the psychoanalytic community. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This paper emerged from a sore spot—the kind of sore spot that pulses with an ancient ache, refusing to find stillness. The pain caught me in a passionate unrest, turning my pages and engulfing me in a subdued fury. Re‐reading Freud's The Ego and the Id through a dialogical quest with my mother, it reveals the complexities of psychosocial troubles of identity, desires, and oppression—not solely of individuals but of an entire nation. Historical reiterations of dictatorial "thou shalt" (Freud, 1923, p. 55) echo resoundingly throughout contemporary Taiwan. If Japan stood as the foreign father—stern but devoid of the embrace of love—the subsequent rule of the Republic of China, the "biological" father of Taiwan, was characterized by militarization and violence. My inquiry repositions the father, the manifold "authoritarian fathers" of Taiwan, who fixed social relations into precise configurations of dominance and submission. Furthermore, whilst Freud primarily focused on the relationship between the ego and the super‐ego, this paper highlights instead the significance of the often‐overlooked relationship between the ego and id. This nuanced perspective allows us to perceive the id as a living archive of the oppressed, preserving what has been repressed but never truly forgotten. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Matricide is suggested as an important counterpart to the traditional oedipal manifestations of patricide. This paper turns to The Oresteia to examine its murderous protagonists and the meaning of the drive to eliminate mothers. A daughter may enact unconscious matricidal wishes in order to separate from an ambivalent tie to her mother, by excising femininity and femaleness in herself. The author explores early bisexual pulls that can emanate from primal scene identifications. The capacity to relinquish the option to have all options is brought in as a ubiquitous and painful developmental move away from having and being all sexes. Father's role as crucial in the sexual development of daughters, including Freud's role in relation to his daughter Anna, is considered and mourning is linked to Klein's Depressive Position. The author includes clinical material of two children from the literature and draws on interviews conducted with trans men to reflect on these struggles. The paper explores early awareness of the difference between the sexes and argues that this can fuel a protest for daughters, sometimes manifesting as a 'no‐mother' or matricidal state of mind. If these wishes or phantasies remain unmourned, they can at times lead to a concrete flight from femininity. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The technical aspect of managing the analyst's emotional responses to a patient has changed over the years, from Freud's position (1910, 1912, 1915), stating that emotions are a sign of an incomplete analysis from the analyst, to the recognition of this emotion as a communication between patient and analyst by Bion (1954). This recognition led to the acknowledgment of their importance as a diagnostic tool, while avoiding disclosure by Heiman (1950) and King (1978). More recently, consideration in the ways we can interpret these feelings during the analysis has been study (Winnicott, 1947; Little 1951; Casement 1986; Ogden 2018). This paper, advocates for the disclosure of such feelings (self‐disclosure) mainly when they are of a positive nature and the patient has a history of neglect. Also, there is a reflection on the advantages and disadvantages of doing so. Finally, there is consideration of the difference between a patient's need and a patient's desire before such disclosures. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This paper attempts to explore the stranglehold on the life of a patient who is be‐devilled by his inner world. It suggests that the opposite of Evil is the word itself backwards, that is, 'Live'. In other words, reverse Evil and we have Live. Living is about loving (whole object relating) and working (being creative). Freud said that a normal person should be able to love and to work—'Lieben und Arbeiten' (Erikson, Childhood and Society, 1965, p. 256), which meant that the individual would not be so preoccupied with work productiveness 'to the extent that he loses his right or capacity to be a genital and loving being' (Erikson, p. 256). In this paper, the author considers the word 'Live'—living in its fullest form of loving and working to be the counterpart to a non‐life dominated by the grip of destructiveness and evil thoughts. This theme is fleshed out through the clinical material on Mr A. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The paper describes an analysis with a very difficult, emotionally inaccessible patient who, after more than a year, unexpectedly terminated the analysis, leaving the analyst with a sense of frustration due to incomplete and interrupted analysis. In the theoretical section of the paper, the author presents his understanding of the creation of such a pathological organization, starting with Freud's concept of death drive, then going on to Melanie Klein's and her successor's discoveries. John Steiner's concept of 'psychic retreat' helps us to understand the process of development of a pathological organization of personality. In the last part, the author describes how he works through mourning and prompts reflection on the reasons for the premature termination of the treatment by the patient. He indicates the causes in both the patient and the analyst. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

What can psychoanalysis learn from literary fiction? In this paper, I suggest that Kazuo Ishiguro's novel The Remains of the Day sheds light on what Freud (1900), in The Interpretation of Dreams, calls the 'day‐residues'; those unnoticed memories and fragments of experience that in the dream come to be imbued with psychic significance. Ishiguro's unreliable narrator is the butler Stevens, whose desire for 'dignity' and 'greatness' ensures he has carefully erased any trace of feeling from the account he offers of his life and relationship with Miss Kenton, the housekeeper with whom he once worked. But what readers eventually come to know of Stevens, and what Stevens comes to know about himself, is gleaned less from what he says than from what he does not say. Drawing on Freud, Laplanche, Bollas and Barthes as well as a brief clinical example, I explore parallels between the inarticulate nature of the knowledge embodied in Ishiguro's novel and the tacit kind of knowing exemplified within the psychoanalytic transference. I conclude that literary fiction has the capacity to illuminate how psychoanalysis can accommodate and expand the borders of knowledge that is unspoken or inaccessible. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Journal of Analytical Psychology is the property of Wiley-Blackwell and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Since the publication of Freud's Interpretation of Dreams over a century ago, there has been a surprising dearth of systematic treatment in the psychoanalytic literature on ways to address dream interpretation in practice and in training. It is argued here that dreams remain a royal road to the unconscious and that understanding can be enriched through the application of a methodical approach which incorporates a range of different theories (despite their having generated major rifts in the history of psychoanalysis). In earlier research, I developed a four‐part sequential 'model in theory' for organizing, comparing and integrating contributions from different theorists to dream interpretation. The present article reports on the model's usefulness for examining case material. Analysis of three case vignettes from experienced clinicians revealed that the model's constructs hold good for examining real‐life dream material, which also suggests its applicability as a basis for training. Further work with the vignettes gave rise to a related 'model in practice' for understanding dream work in therapy as a triangular situation in which the dream, the patient, and the practitioner have distinct roles. Applying these models to case material, as illustrated in this paper, indicates their potential for further exploration, and to use in the structure, design and practical implementation of learning and training that specifically addresses work with dreams. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The primary aim of this article is to give a more detailed exposition of the cultural, personal, and theoretical contexts in which the Viennese psychoanalyst, Herbert Silberer's theories were born. When assessing the broader picture that this approach offers, it can be concluded that Silberer was an innovative thinker who inspired several of his contemporaries. Recognized in many respects by the society and scholars of this time, he represented quite a different viewpoint that was significantly influenced by several forms of Western esoteric thinking. Yet his main aim was to contribute to the field of psychoanalysis and develop a theory in which rationalistic psychoanalytic interpretations were combined with nonreductive approaches to mystical experiences. Silberer's name is frequently mentioned in a specific context in which his tragic suicide is emphasized rather than his innovations. Upon evaluating the materials recording Silberer's private life, it seems very likely that his suicide was not triggered by the criticism of Freud alone. Silberer's family affairs, his relationship with his father, and his financial and professional struggles could have all contributed to his tragic decision. This paper contends that Silberer's oeuvre deserves greater attention and must be evaluated based upon its own merit. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Shirley Jackson is one of the most important authors of the uncanny of the twentieth century. Forgotten after her death in 1965, she is currently being rediscovered. This paper attributes her mastery to the depiction and evocation of extreme mental states, especially alienation and estrangement from oneself. In the debate on the uncanny dominated by Freud's essay of the same name, these phenomena, situated at the edges of the uncanny, are usually left out. A reading of Freud's short text "A disturbance of memory on the Acropolis" (1936), which has so far gone unnoticed in this context, makes it possible to introduce the concepts of "depersonalization" and "derealization" into the conceptual constellation of the uncanny. Against this background, the paper undertakes a close reading of Jackson's story "The Tooth" (1948). Jackson's narrative techniques here, as in her later works, are based on a poetics of transgression. The actual subject of the narrative is told by shaping it subliminally: instead of discursively treating the depths of the human psyche, the narrative evokes them directly in its readers. This is the reason why Jackson's literature is able to convey (self‐)alienation and related phenomena such as dreams and hallucinations so vividly. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This is a brief introductory paper about the history and centrality of the social unconscious in psychoanalytic theory and practice. The term―Social Unconscious―was introduced into our literature more than 100 years ago by the first formally trained American psychoanalyst―Trigant Burrow. It opens new pathways for understanding the social and collective dimensions of the unconscious, allowing us to extend our reach with our patients and our relevance with fellow citizens. Despite its potential, the social unconscious and the theories that undergird it were denigrated by Freud. In the early 1930's, Freud instructed the American Psychoanalytic Association to remove Trigant Burrow from its membership and to excise this scholarship from its curricula. Coordinated attempts to suppress these ideas harmed the field's development and retarded its relevance. Understanding the social dimensions of the unconscious is necessary because the unconscious is largely structured by social, cultural and collective coordinates. Fortunately, the turn into the 21st century is seeing a proliferation in analytic scholarship regarding the centrality of the socio‐cultural in structuring the unconscious of individuals and groups. New terms are being introduced such as vinculo, normative unconscious, interpellation, semiotic code, and ego‐habitus that aim to elaborate the various ways culture, ideology, large‐groups, and geopolitical processes shape the unconscious. Their potential to deepen our contact with patients across the spectrum of human difference is immense. I suggest using the capacious term―social unconscious―as a core conceptual category that organizes this vein of expanding analytic scholarship. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

While playing an important role in psychic development and sustenance as well as in triggering or causing psychopathology, neighbors have attracted little attention from psychoanalysts. Freud's wry protest against the Biblical injunction to love thy neighbor as thyself and Volkan's psychopolitical studies of ethnic neighbors are exceptions in this regard. Taking them as a starting point but going much farther, this paper elucidates the complex relationships that exists between actual neighbors. It also sheds light on the "neighborly" aspects of the analyst–patient bond. Finally, it underscores the existence of unassimilated self‐representations within each individual that can be viewed as neighbors to his or her core self and deserve benevolent acknowledgment and acceptance. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The technical aspect of managing the analyst's emotional responses to a patient has changed over the years, from Freud's position (1910, 1912, 1915), stating that emotions are a sign of an incomplete analysis from the analyst, to the recognition of this emotion as a communication between patient and analyst by Bion (1954). This recognition led to the acknowledgment of their importance as a diagnostic tool, while avoiding disclosure by Heiman (1950) and King (1978). More recently, consideration in the ways we can interpret these feelings during the analysis has been study (Winnicott, 1947; Little 1951; Casement 1986; Ogden 2018). This paper, advocates for the disclosure of such feelings (self‐disclosure) mainly when they are of a positive nature and the patient has a history of neglect. Also, there is a reflection on the advantages and disadvantages of doing so. Finally, there is consideration of the difference between a patient's need and a patient's desire before such disclosures. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article examines Talcott Parsons's efforts at building the theory of personality system as a special case of his general theory of action and places those efforts in historical context. I demonstrate how, during the middle decades of the twentieth century, Parsons employed elements of classic Freudian thought to advance a new appreciation of the personality system and its relations to other action systems. I begin with an overview of the reception of psychoanalysis at the Boston Psychoanalytic Society and Institute, the Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Harvard Department of Social Relations, showing how Parsons's thinking on the personality system cannot be understood apart from his association with these three institutions. I then turn to how Parsons endeavored to integrate his particular brand of sociology with his own interpretation of Freud's writings to explain how the personality system functions and develops. I conclude by showing that while Parsons's involvements with psychoanalysis became more intermittent after the mid‐1950s, to the end of his life he remained steadfast in his enthusiasm for Freud's theory of personality. In short, Parsons always believed that for sociological theory to progress, it needed to engage with psychoanalysis. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The ontology of death is universal, hence archetypal. Nowhere do we witness any organic creature escape its talons. Analytical psychology has had an intimate relationship to death for the simple fact that it contemplates the soul, the numinous, and an afterlife. From Hegel to Heidegger, Freud and Jung, death was an existential force that sustained and transformed life, the positive significance of the negative. Rather than merely a destructive phenomenon, death informs Being, the power of nothingness that dialectically drives life. In this paper, I will introduce the notion of what I call the omega principle, the psychological orientation and trajectory of our being towards death, which we may say is a universal preoccupation and recapitulation of the collective unconscious that subsumes our personal relation to death, an eternal return of the objective psyche constellated as esse in anima. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The author describes some obstacles encountered teaching undergraduates psychoanalytic theory. In academic environments that reflect a broader cultural skepticism, disinterest and animosity to analytic ideas, the author argues that it is imperative to develop and utilize teaching methods that have an experience‐near quality. Without clinical experience and perhaps hesitant to use their own personal lives for material, students may seemingly lack data to test out the explanatory value of analytic ideas. This essay illustrates one device the author developed of using students' "celebrity object" relationships to idiosyncratically cathected popular culture figures to allow for increased engagement with analytic ideas. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Journal of Analytical Psychology is the property of Wiley-Blackwell and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

In this article, we seek to clarify the historical and philosophical roots of Bion's somewhat enigmatic concept of reverie. We also reflect on the rhetorical reasons for Bion's decision to introduce the concept into psychotherapeutic discourse. Although Josef Breuer and Sigmund Freud (1894) had used the term in their Studies on Hysteria, prior to Bion it had lost its independent significance and role in psychotherapeutic theories. We would contend that even if the concept reverie has become increasingly popular in recent psychotherapeutic discourse, the relative neglect of its history and philosophy have led to problematic ways of implementing the concept in both the theory and practice of psychotherapy. We start from Jean‐Jacques Rousseau, moving on to Freud, William James, Henri Bergson and Gaston Bachelard. We present our view of why Bion considered reverie to be an indispensable tool in explicating certain psychoanalytic dimensions. We also reveal the kinds of historical and philosophical commitments that are embedded in the concept of reverie and append brief comments on the relevance of our analysis to the present state of psychotherapy and psychotherapy research. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The author presents a clinical psychoanalysis in which his Jewish patient fears that her non‐Jewish analyst hates her for being Jewish. Antisemitic expressions of hate toward the analyst have been well‐documented, but a fear of the analyst's hateful transference to the patient has not been previously examined in a published report. This transference led to an impasse in the treatment and prompted exploration of countertransference on the analyst's part; was he, unconsciously, expressing any religious hatred? The author examines a technical question of whether such a transference can be analyzed in the usual way as a displacement of infantile trauma? Or do the antisemitic aspects of the transference need to be examined and understood in their cultural and religious implications first and then analyzed as a real aspect in the external world before its infantile roots can be exposed? In this particular case, the author concludes that the latter approach is necessary and useful to facilitating clinical progress. The author suggests that this approach may be applicable to other analyses where there are racial, class, or religious differences and the patient develops fears about the analyst's attitude. The author offers this case as an example of the necessary integration of cultural and sociological issues into the classical model of intrapsychic conflict. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

But within a year she became pregnant with a brother, Julius, who was born when Sigmund was 19 months old (Whitebook says on p. 37, "when Sigmund was eleven months old"! The Freud who identified with Moses might have found this development a bit diminishing, but I like to think a different Freud, Loewald's "unofficial Freud", would recognize it as an acceptance of reality. Whitebook describes Freud's 'weekly game of Tarock while schmoozing with his brethren at [the Jewish service organization] the B'nai B'rith' (p. 320), and in his address to the B'nai B'rith in 1926, Freud spoke of his attraction to "Jewry and Jews" as "irresistible" (1926, p. 274). It devotes four chapters to Freud's "homosexual" love affairs (Whitebook doesn't avoid such language) with Fliess and Jung, and comments on the psychological significance of Freud's "phallologocentrism" - his commitment to "science" seen as a masculinist posture. [Extracted from the article]