精神病 362

精神病 362

What is at issue in the psychotic? Suppose someone unthinkable for us,
one of these gentlemen who, we are told – if indeed any have ever existed,
don’t believe I attribute any importance to such hearsay – was capable of
such self-discipline that he no longer believed in Father Christmas and was
able to convince himself that everything good that one does entails an equivalent
evil and that consequeitly one mustn’t do it. Admitting this, even for
an instant, is sufficient for you to understand that all sorts of things which
are fundamental at the level of the signifier may depend on it.


Well then, compared to you the psychotic has this disadvantage, but also
this privilege, of finding himself a little bit at odds with, askew in relation to,
the signifier. Once he is summoned to harmonize with these signifiers, he has
to make a considerable effort of retrospection, which culminates in these
extraordinarily bizarre things that constitute what is called the development
of a psychosis.


This development is quite particularly rich and exemplary in
the case of President Schreber, but I have shown you in my case presentations
that things become a bit clearer once one possesses this point of view,
even in the most common illnesses. The most recent case I have shown you
was of someone who was very, very strange, on the verge of mental automatism,
though not quite there.


For him everyone was suspended in an artificial
state whose coordinates he defined well. He had observed that the signifier
dominates the existence of beings, and his own existence appeared to him to
be much less certain than anything that presented itself with a certain signifying
structure. He stated it quite crudely. You noticed that I put this question
to him – When did all this begin? During your wife’s pregnancy? He was a
bit astonished for a moment, then answered me – Yes, that’s true – adding
that it had never occurred to him.


-From the imaginary point of view, what we say in passing, in analysis, has
strictly no importance, since it’s solely a question of frustration or of no frustration.
One frustrates him, he is aggressive, he regresses, and we continue
like that until the most primordial fantasies emerge. Unfortunately, this isn’t
the correct theory. One has to know what one’s saying. It isn’t sufficient to
bring signifiers into play in this way – I tap you an the shoulder . . . You’re
really a nice person . . . You had a bad daddy . . . Things will work out. One
has to use them in full knowledge, make them resonate otherwise, and at
least know how not to employ certain of them. The negative indications con-
ceming certain contents of interpretation are highlighted by such a point of


I leave these questions open. The year ends in dialect, why should it end
in any other way?


In conclusion I would like to move to a different genre of style from my own.
Several weeks back I promised myself to end on a very pretty page by an
admirable poet called Guillaume Apollinaire. It comes from the Enchanteur

Pourrissant 摘录过来。

At the end of one of the chapters there is the enchanter who is rotting away
in his tomb, and who, like any good cadaver, I won’t say speaks drivel, as
Barris would say, but enchants and speaks very well. There is also the Lady
of the Lake seated on her tomb – it was she who had got him to enter the
tomb by telling him that he could get out again easily, but she, too, had her
tricks, and the enchanter is there, rotting away, and from time to time speaks.


This is where we are when a number of madmen appear in the middle of
various funeral processions, along with a monster whom I hope you are going
to recognize. This monster is the one who found the analytic key, the active
force of men, and especially in the relation of the father-child to the mother.


/ mewed, I mewed, said the monster, I encountered only owls who assured me that he
was dead. I shall never be prolific. However, those who are have qualities. I confess that
I do not recognize any in me. lam alone. I am hungry, I am hungry. Here I discover a
quality of my own; I am famished. Lets look for something to eat. He who eats is no
longer alone.9
4 July 1956

1956年 7月4日


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