Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Series Editors
Calum Neill
Edinburgh Napier University
Edinburgh, UK
Derek Hook
Duquesne University
Pittsburgh, USA
Jacques Lacan is one of the most important and influential thinkers of the
20th century. The reach of this influence continues to grow as we settle
into the 21st century, the resonance of Lacan’s thought arguably only
beginning now to be properly felt, both in terms of its application to
clinical matters and in its application to a range of human activities and
interests. The Palgrave Lacan Series is a book series for the best new
writing in the Lacanian field, giving voice to the leading writers of a new
generation of Lacanian thought. The series will comprise original mono-
graphs and thematic, multi-authored collections. The books in the series
will explore aspects of Lacan’s theory from new perspectives and with
original insights. There will be books focused on particular areas of or
issues in clinical work. There will be books focused on applying Lacanian
theory to areas and issues beyond the clinic, to matters of society, politics,
the arts and culture. Each book, whatever its particular concern, will work
to expand our understanding of Lacan’s theory and its value in the 21st
century.
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Psychoanalysis is the reign of speech, there’s no other cure.
—Jacques Lacan, 1974
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the “work-of-many.” As
such, some thanks are in order. First of all, I would like to thank Stijn
Vanheule for taking me on as one of his PhD students. His guidance while
I was writing my dissertation and then transforming it into this book has
proven to be of incredible value. I cannot thank him enough. He provided
me not just with the opportunity to study the theoretical and clinical
aspects of Lacanian psychoanalysis but also, and more importantly for me,
a chance to teach. Taking the floor, elaborating on Lacanian psychoanaly-
sis, having to try to explain myself to students and being questioned by
them, has been extremely formative. There isn’t another way I would have
preferred to spend the last few years. It has truly been an honor.
Additionally, I would like to express my appreciation and gratitude to
Lieven Jonckheere, Lieve Billiet, and Mattias Desmet—the members of
my doctoral guidance committee—for offering advice throughout the
process of writing my dissertation. Thanks are also in order for all those
who provided me with useful feedback on various parts and drafts of this
book. Thanks to my former, current, and future coworkers at the
Department of Psychoanalysis and Clinical Consulting at Ghent University
for all the interesting conversations, those we have had and those to come.
A special thanks to Goedele Hermans, Tom Lintacker, Erik Mertens, and
Kimberly Van Nieuwenhove, who offered to be first readers of my final
manuscript, for their constructive feedback.
My deepest gratitude to my analyst and supervisors for the only kind of
formation that really matters, and thanks to all those who trust me when
they enter my clinical practice. Your influence is present in every word
vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
written in this book. I would also like to express my appreciation for the
Kring voor Psychoanalyse van de New Lacanian School and its members,
who, through the teachings of Jacques-Alain Miller, offer an orientation in
the Lacanian field. It has never stopped being inspiring. Special thanks to
Joost Demuynck, who, when I had just graduated as a clinical psycholo-
gist, accepted my invitation to start a reading group and took up the posi-
tion of a plus-one. He never stopped making clear that young clinicians
interested in psychoanalysis are worth being heard and that they have
something to say. His engagement and commitment inspired me to keep
on working on Lacanian psychoanalysis on more than one occasion.
I would also like to express my deepest gratitude to all those who were
willing to discuss their therapeutic process with me, and I would also like
to thank their respective analysts. Furthermore, I would also like to thank
those who discussed their process of supervision with me. Without these
people, this book would have been impossible. I cannot thank you
all enough.
A heartfelt thanks to those few I consider to be my friends. You know
who you are.
Thanks to Fauve, for the Apartment Story.
Contents
1 Introduction 1
Works Cited 7
ix
x Contents
5 Lacanian Superaudition 99
Supervision in “the Function and Field of Speech and Language
in Psychoanalysis” 100
Supervision in the Sinthome 105
Supervision and Analysis 121
Works Cited 125
Index139
About the Author
xi
List of Figures
xiii
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
1
For reasons of confidentiality, pseudonyms are used for patients throughout this book.
therapeutic process revolved around this diminutive and the fact that she
saw herself as little, as someone who made herself small and let herself be
abused by others. It struck me how an unintentional intervention could
have had such an effect, and this flipped my therapeutic practice upside
down. It made me wonder about the psychoanalytic process and the way
I intervened or positioned myself as a psychotherapist. As “there is cause
only in something that does not work” (Lacan (1973 [1964], p. 25), I
decided to work on this and started to investigate the concrete processes
through which patients, consulting a Lacanian psychoanalyst, can be
relieved of their symptoms and the role of the psychoanalyst in this process.
When one wants to study the Lacanian psychoanalytic process, one
quickly stumbles on the testimonies of the pass, introduced by Lacan in his
text “Proposition of 9 October 1967 on the Psychoanalyst of the School”
(Lacan, 2001b [1967]). The pass is a procedure in which analysts, having
(presumably) finished their analysis, testify about their own trajectory as
analysants.2 A committee of peers then discusses the testimony of an ana-
lyst and decides whether to grant an analyst the title of Analyst of the
School. The aim of this procedure is to account in a transparent way for
what an analytical cure can bring about. As Lacan writes, “the Analyst of
the School is characterized as being among those who are able to testify to
the crucial problems, at the vital point they have come to, for analysis,
especially in so far as they themselves are working on them or at least
working towards resolving them” (Lacan, 2001b [1967], p. 2). The pass
was Lacan’s way of introducing an instrument for the evaluation and inter-
rogation of the results of a psychoanalysis (Billiet et al., 2007). These tes-
timonies undoubtedly provide a unique insight into what is at stake in a
Lacanian psychoanalysis, and I agree with Dumézil (in Didier-Weill, 2001)
that they offer an extraordinary observatory, from which to survey the
2
The procedure of the pass starts with the decision of an analyst, who has come to the
conclusion that their analysis has ended. The first step in the procedure is to contact the
Secretariat of the Pass. This is a body within a Lacanian school that receives the question and
represents the Other to whom this question is addressed. The analyst speaks with two other
analysts who are appointed by the Secretariat of the Pass. These are the passeurs. These pas-
seurs are analysts who are expected to be at roughly the same stage in their analysis and thus
may be receptive to what the analyst is saying. The analyst tells their story to each passeur
separately, after which both passeurs are expected to convey the testimony to the committee,
or cartel, of the pass. This committee, whose composition varies, works on a case that it did
not hear directly itself, and it must judge whether there is indeed a subjective metamorphosis.
If the testimony is declared admissible, the candidate will then be appointed Analyst of the
School, or Analyste de l’Ecole (AE).
1 INTRODUCTION 3
3
Although some will argue that because of the frequency or duration of the treatment this
cannot be called psychoanalytic, I wholeheartedly disagree. We could discuss the semantics
of psychoanalytic treatment, psychoanalysis, psychoanalytic therapy and so on but not on the
basis of duration and frequency. It is the psychoanalytic act that makes a session psychoana-
lytic. I discuss this in more detail in Chap. 4.
1 INTRODUCTION 5
chose a new professional career. She consulted the analyst for two years,
with a frequency of two sessions per week.
Anna, 40 years old, works in marketing. She talked about a therapy of
16 years, which actually consisted of 3 years of intense therapy and then
several short periods of therapy throughout the following years. She con-
sulted the analyst because of chronic alcohol abuse. Throughout the
course of the therapy, her drinking stopped, but for her what seemed to be
more important was being able to move beyond the drama she had expe-
rienced in relation to her parents. This allowed her to move more freely
in life.
Hans, a 44-year-old IT specialist, completed 10 years of therapy, with a
frequency of two sessions per week. His reason for consulting the psycho-
analyst was the breakdown of a relationship. During the therapy, it became
clear that he had a problematic relationship with a female friend and suf-
fered from procrastination. Eventually his position toward his friend
changed, and he could finally act on what he had been postponing.
Finally, Daniel, a 56-year-old teacher, entered therapy because of
chronic stress that resulted in physical symptoms. He ended the therapy
after seeing the analyst for two years, with a frequency of one session per
week. During the analysis he changed his attitude towards his parents and
his own affective experiences, realizing that his symptoms were linked to
affective distress.
Talking with these ex-analysants about their therapeutic journey, each
of them gave a detailed personal account of the reasons why they started
therapy, what they thought had changed because of the therapy, and how
they made sense of this change. I also asked about the end of the therapy
and how they experienced the interaction with their analyst. Very briefly
summarized, they told me they came to the therapy at a moment of crisis
and that they had found someone who paid close attention to their speech.
Because of this, they experienced a surprising reframing and also began to
consider their speech, and this helped them to see themselves in a new
light. More specifically, it helped them reflect on what they really wanted.
In some previously published papers, I used these interviews to ques-
tion the Lacanian therapeutic process (Dulsster et al., 2019; Dulsster
et al., 2021). In this book, I will use these interviews as a thread to elabo-
rate more on this process through a theoretical perspective and discuss
some aspects not presented in the published papers. What these interviews
demonstrate most of all, I contend, is that the psychoanalytic experience is
the reign of speech and that this cannot be underestimated. All of the
6 D. G. M. DULSSTER
4
Some might have noticed I did not specify any diagnosis concerning the ex-analysants I
interviewed. Although this could be debated, I must state that most of the theory discussed
in this book concerns the matter of the structure of neurosis.
1 INTRODUCTION 7
Works Cited
Billiet, L., Hoornaert, G., Lysy, A., & Vander Vennet, L. (2007). Voorstelling van
het Werkseminarie ‘Lacans School en Passe’. Inwit, 2(3), 268–269.
Bonnaud, H. (2012). Tearing away the real. Hurly-Burly, 8, 93–96.
8 D. G. M. DULSSTER
Really putting it over there with the analyst and thinking about this and
really hearing myself speak… it was most of all because of that, that I
thought, this is really going too far. You keep on pushing your boundaries
in life and after a while you stop thinking about that. After a while you’re in
a role in your life that you keep on repeating, because that’s the role that’s
yours. But, when suddenly there’s someone standing next to you that makes
you think about those things—without saying too much, because it’s not
that he said a lot—because of the things I was saying out loud, again and
again and again that I thought, this isn’t normal. I really made that ‘click’
because of hearing myself talk and thinking afterwards, yeah, this isn’t right.
I had that insight and realized I should stop doing that. There was no other
way, that feeling was strong at a certain point.
A Practice of Speech
Without a doubt, Lacan would have wholeheartedly agreed with Emmy.
For Lacan (1974), it would not make sense to say that speech and lan-
guage aren’t central in a practice that involves just talking to someone,
listening to someone, occasionally responding, and intervening. One
thing all therapists (no matter their theoretical framework) must consider
is that their work is a practice of speech. This is already beautifully indi-
cated by Freud (1961 [1915–1917], p. 17) in his introductory lessons on
psychoanalysis when he writes,
Words were originally magic and to this day words have retained much of
their ancient magical power. By words one person can make another bliss-
fully happy or drive him into despair, by words the teacher conveys his
knowledge to his pupils, by words the orator carries his audience with him
and determines their judgements and decisions. Words provoke affects and
are in general the means of mutual influence among men. Thus, we shall not
depreciate the use of words in psychotherapy.
everything that comes to mind. Lucy said, “the thing was, she always said:
speak, speak.” Absolutely, when a patient enters the practice of a
psychoanalyst,1 the psychoanalyst won’t be giving advice on how someone
can better manage their life. They also won’t tell a patient how to handle
their emotions and give homework assignments or say that something is
wrong with the patient’s brain and prescribe medication (De Kesel, 2017).
A Lacanian psychoanalyst will offer someone the opportunity to speak. A
small, crucial detail is that patients consulting with a Lacanian psychoana-
lyst are invited to talk not so much about their problems as about whatever
comes to mind. The analyst will introduce the rule of free association and
see where it goes from there. The rule of free association is the basis of the
entire enterprise (Miller, 1993–1994). The invitation to free association is
not a wish to say anything, much less a duty to say something, but an invi-
tation to say everything that crosses one’s mind. The Lacanian (and
Freudian) wager is that from this speech there will emerge an act of speech
that will have subjective effects, creating a before and an after (Dupont,
2020 [2019]). In the interviews I conducted, the analysants repeatedly
came back to this, stressing the importance of their analyst providing the
space for them to speak freely about whatever came to mind without cen-
sorship or fear of being judged. Lucy added, “She always said, ‘speak,
speak,’ because often, I didn’t know what I had to say and then when she
said, ‘just speak, think out loud’… I felt there was an openness to say
everything… because a lot of the time I thought that it wasn’t ok what I
was thinking.” Elisabeth, who at a certain time before the analysis experi-
enced some psychotic-like events, indicated, “In analysis, there is no one
saying, oh my God, you’re saying that you want your mother dead, or you
say that the light has such a strange effect on you, no, I had the feeling that
everything could be said.” Articulating their thoughts had an important
effect on them. The ex-analysants indicated that through her presence, the
analyst creates an echo chamber and when the patient’s speech calls out,
the analyst makes sure the echo does not come back empty. Lucy said for
her things changed because she “talked a lot about all that stuff. I had to
say a lot out loud, and I had to say it to someone. Yeah, a person can think
1
Although I know some do not like the term “patient,” I prefer it as it is etymologically
linked to patientia, meaning suffering, persistence, endurance, or patience. They are indeed
suffering of persistent elements in their life which they have to endure and need to have some
patience to go to work with this. Entering the practice of the psychoanalyst as a patient, it
will be the task of the analyst to transform this patient to an analysant. This will be discussed
in more detail in Chap. 3.
12 D. G. M. DULSSTER
a lot, but that is something that just keeps on going, but from the moment
you say something, that does… a lot.”
The more I take notice, the more I’m convinced people always say some-
thing else than what they really mean. Even a simple sentence like “Do you
want some coffee?” can mean a dozen different things: do you want coffee?
Nice, me too, so if you can just make some; Do you want coffee? I’m just
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 13
asking so I can go make some and don’t have to continue this boring con-
versation about your problems at work; Do you want coffee? If you say no
that would ruin the mood and, in a while, I’m going to break up with you.
I think that must be mighty clear. I know those dirty tricks. You ask me what
time it is and then I answer and then the ice is broken, and I ask you what
you are reading, because I also like to read myself and then we have a pleas-
ant chat and by the time we get off the train we are so into discussing these
matters that I then invite you to my house for dinner. I then introduce you
to my wife and my children, after which you start talking with my daughter
and then you start dating my daughter and my daughter goes along with it,
because, after all, her father has already given approval by inviting you to our
home. But I must say this, young chap, if you think I’ll have my daughter
dating someone who can’t even afford a watch, well, you’re gravely mistaken.
What Cornelisse and the old, refined gentleman both seem very aware
of is the fact that speaking to each other is not just about two or more
individuals talking to each other, stating things, asking for coffee or the
time, but that something else is almost always stake. It is this dimension
which will be provoked by the psychoanalyst, making analysants wonder:
“Am I actually saying what I think I’m saying? What else am I conveying
through these words that I’m saying to the other.” This dimension of the
symbolic introduces a place of the unconscious where truth and desire
insists in our daily lives and our speech, truths, and desires we often do not
want to acknowledge. As such, analysants start to listen “beyond commu-
nication” and start to hear themselves saying things they did not hear
before. This also indicates the unconscious must not be considered as a
hidden knowledge that is already there, but as something that is produced
in the analytic encounter (Cauwe & Vanheule, 2018).
14 D. G. M. DULSSTER
(Es) S a ‘ other
n
atio
rel
ary un
in co
ag ns
im ci
ou
s
(ego) a A Other
Fig. 2.1 L-schema of Lacan (1978 [1954–1955], p. 284). (Es) S = The subject
of the unconscious, (Ego) a = The ego as an imaginary object, (a)’ other = The
other, in the position of imaginary object, Other = The big Other as symbolic
at all. It is exactly the opposite.” The analyst will let the patient speak, but
the analyst’s focus will not be on communication and information but on
speaking and evocation. Looking at the L-schema, the analyst will position
themself in the place of the Other, the place of this third dimension, which
provokes the subject (S) of the unconscious.
different aspects of the self are present that the ego is all too willing to
ignore. He wasn’t just an ordinary man—he was also a hypochondriac,
someone who wanted to be a poet but was also “a man with elbows” who
wanted to climb up the social ladder, and was a hero at times. It makes him
acknowledge that “The life of man is a mass of various possible aspects out
of which only one is realized, or only a few, while the others only manifest
themselves incompletely for a time, or never at all” (p. 206). The protago-
nist of the book realizes his identity is ambiguous and consists of many
different aspects of the self. He starts to notice that there is no core of
personality but that he is a lack of being: “There was no self, it was only
chaos without guidance or a name. I know it is only an image” (p. 209).
To cover up this lack, the protagonist had used different identifications:
“Surely it was empty in itself, and in order to exist in some way it had to
borrow one of those figures and its life” (ibid, p. 206)! The key quote of
the book is without a doubt: “Admit that a man is something like a crowd
of people. In that crowd he wanders, perhaps, say, an ordinary man, a
hypochondriac, a hero, that one with the elbows, and god knows what
else; it is a muddled swarm, but it has a common path” (pp. 206–207).
What the protagonist illustrates is that the ego presents a unity behind
which a crowd of subjectivities are present, between which tension and
conflicts arise. As a consequence, he has to reconsider why he made certain
choices in life, what determined his career and his hypochondria. He has
to rethink his relationship with his wife, father, and mother. The ego had
misrecognized some aspects of the self, ignored the anecdotes which
caused him shame and sorrow, those aspects of his miserable self he was so
willing to ignore, aspects he tried to ignore by writing “the apology of the
ordinary man.” It is only through his elaborations, retelling his story, that
other parts of his self begin to appear. Aspects of his self which he “stuck
in between the lines to hide it from himself” (p. 126). It also seems that
every story was hiding another. Interestingly enough the dialogue with
himself continues until only one story remains, or rather a piece of a story,
an episode that does not fit into any of the other coherent histories he
elaborated on, a small anecdote emerging out of nowhere, something he’s
very reluctant to talk about:
Wait, here and there you’ve left something out. –I haven’t’! You have. Shall
I remind you of this and that? –No, it’s not necessary. They’re casual things
that don’t mean anything. They simply don’t fit into the whole and they
have no continuity. That’s the word: continuity. A man’s life must have
some continuity after all and so many odd things must be thrown aside,
mustn’t they (p. 173)?
18 D. G. M. DULSSTER
As the first part of the book concerns “the apology of the lot of the
ego,” the second part is about “the apology of the lot of the subject,” and
as such we could say we see a process of analysis appear. He “broke his life
into pieces by looking at it” (p. 173) and acknowledges that beyond the
ego there is the masses of the subject and that the ego wants to keep a
continuity and wants to ignore those aspects of our selves we don’t want
to know anything about. Indeed, many odd things are often thrown aside
and emerge only in analysis, things that have to be found “between the
lines of speech.” As such, a remark many analysts have heard time and time
again is, “I had no idea I was going to talk about this... I haven’t told this
to anyone before.”
I will not discuss the final anecdote of Č apek’s protagonist, but it is
clear that it concerns something that disrupts the smooth continuity of all
the stories he has constructed about himself, something he absolutely does
not want to know anything about (Fig. 2.2).
Now, what is illustrated by Č apek in this novel can be summarized as:
Where the ego presents a coherent self-image, the divided subject on
the other hand concerns the “I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what
I’m thinking. I don’t know what I am saying, I don’t know what I want,
I don’t know what I desire, I don’t know why I am like that” (Miller,
2008–2009). The ego is a system of identifications, a signifier (hypochon-
driac, a poet, a husband, etc.) who represents a subject. The ego is the
instance which allows you to say, “I know who I am.” It is the sum total
of all those identifications assimilated by the subject. It is the sum of the
crowd, of the muddled swarm. The ego is actually the entirety of how
someone appears, the totality of the appearance of someone who we call a
subject.
This immediately puts forward a purpose of analytic experience—
namely, to go beyond that ego-alienation and allow something of the sub-
ject to appear. The first aim of psychoanalysis is to get the patient to see
that they are actually situated in the position of a divided subject. The idea
is to strip away the imaginary identifications (Brousse, 1996) and lead
someone to think, “I thought that I was such and such, but I’m not. What
am I in the end, but a want-to-be?” From a Lacanian perspective this is
key. Instead of reducing the therapeutic setting to the focus on the ego,
the focus is first and foremost on the dimension of the symbolic Other and
the subject the unconscious. Beyond the dimension of the ego, there is the
hidden truth of the subject. This is the place of the unconscious $ where
the truth and the desire insist in our daily lives and the speech of the sub-
ject (Nobus, 2000). The dimension of the subject concerns our “subjec-
tive” truth but also makes up the truth of our symptoms.
The two dimensions of the ego and the subject also appeared for the
ex-analysants I interviewed. Daniel talked about himself and how he
“could take on the world, could have been prime minister of the country”
and “how he was a very rational person” until his body started to speak
through somatization, making clear that this wasn’t the case at all. His
symptoms showed him that it was impossible to hold up such an ideal,
while additionally, through speaking in analysis, it became clear that he
wasn’t rational at all. Opening up the dimension of the unconscious took
the analysants by surprise, giving them new perspectives on things. They
started to realize that within their being, in the depths of their inner life,
another unknown life is played out without their knowledge. Behind
everyone’s ego, there is a subject being ignored—the subject of the uncon-
scious (Monribot, 2007). Most of the time this concerns aspects of our-
selves we do not want to acknowledge (e.g., being a cheater, a miser, a
coward, wanting to have control, being scared). However, in an analytic
therapy, these things that first seem unbearable, things we wish to ignore,
will find a way out (Lacadée, 2019).
This can be linked to one of the most interesting aspects that appeared
during the interviews—namely, what I called a “surprising reframing”
(Dulsster et al., 2019). Once the therapy commenced, all ex-analysants
seemed to be confronted with other questions than the ones which made
them consult their psychoanalyst. These new questions became more rel-
evant than the urgent matter that had initially brought them to consult the
analyst and this created a shift in focus (to their own subjectivity). Lucy
said it was difficult to experience such a thing: “And this was hard because,
yes, there are certain things in your life… where you think beforehand that
they are alright, but at a certain moment I started to doubt a lot of things,
my relationship with my partner, my job, a lot of things.” One of the
themes that suddenly appeared was the death of her grandfathers: “I had
no idea that I would have talked about that so much. At a certain point, I
talked about that a lot.” Daniel explained this surprising reframing as a “a
rude awakening”: “I had to do something about it, because I could no
longer blame external factors, it’s just me, and this was a rude awakening...
20 D. G. M. DULSSTER
a rude awakening of how I always blamed other things, but it’s just me,
myself, and I have to do something about it, but I’m no longer able... It
can’t happen again that I get to this point.” Such a “rude awakening”
made the ex-analysants move beyond the initial moment of crisis. Hans
said he started with the therapy because of a breakup. However, it became
clear for him that his ex-girlfriend wasn’t really a problem. In fact, the
problem was the dependency on another girlfriend.
A very important clinical implication of the fact that a Lacanian psycho-
analyst works with the subject and not with the ego is that the subject
cannot be approached by referring to ontological categories like “the
child,” “the schizo,” “the alcoholic,” or “the anorexic” (Brousse, 2003).
Consequently, an analyst does not need a certain expertise concerning
specific diagnostic categories (alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety, etc.).
Their expertise lies in listening to the speech of the patients and the dimen-
sion of the unconscious. Young clinicians often feel a certain reluctance in
working with certain clinical phenomena like anorexia, depression, or
panic attacks, and it may be helpful for them to know that even in such
cases one does not have to do much more than focus on the patient’s
speech, make them elaborate on the matters at hand, and see what
comes up.
A clinical example is that of an analysant who came to talk to me about
a severe eating disorder. Being extremely anorexic, she started to fear for
her own life. Having consulted a dietary expert and a cognitive behavioral
therapist and even being hospitalized several times, she came to talk to me
as a final attempt to put her self-destructive behavior to an end. Throughout
the therapy she gradually started to regain some weight, being able to
discuss certain aspects that made her quite emotional. However, it was
only after more than a year and a half that she suddenly stumbled on a
memory that had profoundly impacted her. During a sleepover at her aunt
and uncle’s, her uncle occasionally peeked at her when she was in the toilet
or in the bathroom. At a certain point, this made her decide to “never be
attractive for a man again.” This also explained her panic attacks when
now and then she was approached by men whose fetish seemed to be
extremely skinny, boyish women. This was a real breakthrough for her
which made her take on a new position in life by regaining weight but also
by starting to change her appearance. We can see this as a major therapeu-
tic step, but the real problem at hand suddenly had to be addressed—
namely, the difficult relationships she had with men and sexuality.
Consequently, other aspects of her subjectivity suddenly came to the fore.
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 21
Addressed Speech
Another important remark in Emmy’s quote was that: “Suddenly there’s
someone standing next to you that makes you think about those things.”
What Emmy pinpoints is a fourth key notion in “Function and Field”—
namely, that speech in psychoanalysis cannot be distinguished from
transference.
Lacan refers to Freud who defined transference as: “the assumption of
his own history by the subject, in the measure that he is constituted by the
speech directed to another” (Lacan, 1974). As such, we must stress that
these aspects only appeared through the interaction with the analyst. It is
the presence of the analyst, if they do their job, that makes the dimension
of the unconscious appear. The presence of the analyst themself is a
22 D. G. M. DULSSTER
Fig. 2.3 The ego, the subject of the unconscious, and the psychoanalyst
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 23
speech eventually reveals that the ego does not have total control over
what is being said, which actualizes the dimension of the subject. It allows
the patient to become subject of their own speech. The task of the analyst
is to induce this process, being careful to avoid being bamboozled by the
ego, so the subject of the unconscious can appear.
An Open Ending
Through the analytic experience, the patient will discover certain aspects of
their self they can no longer identify with, that they no longer want to be
duped by. As Emmy put it, “You keep on pushing your boundaries in life
and after a while you stop thinking about that, after a while you’re in a role
in your life that you keep on repeating, because that’s the role that’s yours.”
During an analysis, the patient has to learn to accept this truth that disturbs
the comfort of their imaginary identity (De Kesel, 2017). When patients
start to speak, “truth can be refound” (Lacan, 2002b [1953], p. 215), and
aspects of desire that were first denied can be recognized and accepted as
belonging to oneself. Essentially, an effect one can expect from an analytic
treatment is the fall of identifications. Psychoanalysis does not promise hap-
piness, but through speech it offers an opportunity to find a way out of what
seemed a subjective impasse (Chiriaco, 2012). Elisabeth talked about her
mother and how she used to wallow in grief, in her “melancholy,” and how
she noticed that she copied this pattern. Whenever she had a conflict with
others the melancholy took the upper hand. As she put it,
Most of the time I’m enthusiastic, but I noticed that I could let myself be
dragged along by these emotions... Now I’ve learned that I have choice. I
can say, ‘that’s not me!’ I have a choice in how to deal with all of those
things. When there’s conflict between two people, people say things you
don’t like, but that does not mean you have to play the fragile little bird.
Even though I didn’t see her [her mother] a lot… I was entirely engulfed by
it, the entire story that I have of her and by being able to talk about that out
loud and putting it next to each other, it made it possible to physically
have… less a feeling that it is all one part, one story. I have my own story,
my own life, my own future.
24 D. G. M. DULSSTER
Through freely speaking to the analyst, the comfort of the ego is dis-
turbed and gives the analysant a chance to accept subjective truths that
have been neglected thus far, and, more important, it gives them a chance
to act. The analysants I spoke with indicated that they could see them-
selves in a new, more truthful light and that they found new ways of posi-
tioning themselves toward others. For example, Lucy stated that because
of the therapy she not only realized that she had to move and live alone,
but it also prompted her to start looking for a new job.
More often than not, when patients enter therapy, they do not know
that they have a choice in the positions they take in their life (e.g., being a
fragile little bird). Through analysis you learn to define “the role that is
yours,” and this has effects. As Miller (2002) notes, people who testify
about their analytic process taken to its end very often speak of a gain in
freedom with regard to the repetitions that limit them and a gain of life,
an incomparable relief. It is clear one does not have to wait for the end of
analysis for some of these effects to occur. However, there are no legiti-
mate ways to predict what a patient’s time for understanding will be or
when their analysis will be completed.
This leads to a fifth and final idea I would like to discuss here, which is
present in “Function and Field”—namely, that “time plays a role in ana-
lytic technique in several ways” (Lacan, 2002b[1953], p. 257). We will
return to the matter of technique later. The thing I would like to stress
when thinking about applied psychoanalysis is that Freud (1955 [1920])
suggested that the unconscious is a timeless dimension; thus, the time of
an analysis is experienced as indefinite as well. Although it seems the cur-
rent times demand that therapy be fast, a psychoanalytic treatment
demands time, it respects the subjective time of the patient and does not
try to short-circuit this by imposing time limits and such.
The end of a psychoanalysis in pure psychoanalysis considers the transi-
tion from analysant to psychoanalyst. Applied psychoanalysis has a whole
different endgame, if one can even call it that. The transition from analy-
sant to psychoanalyst will hardly ever be a question for patients entering
the office of a psychoanalyst. Usually, one just wants to be freed of one’s
symptoms. Only a very small number of analysants will push through to
the point of transition from analysant to analyst, and Lacan certainly did
not advocate that people follow this path. Indeed, why in God’s name
would one want to become an analyst? For Lacan (1976a) an analysis is
enough when the patient thinks they are happy (they do not need to be
glücklich). Most of the time, an analysis stops before it reaches its logical
end. It is definitely not necessary for an analysis to be long in order for it
to have some psychoanalytic effects (Mahjoub, 2019). As indicated by
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 25
Miller (1993–1994), some end analysis because they are tired of it, some
because of despair. Some leave because there is no therapeutic success and
they are fed up with it. Some leave because it was therapeutically very suc-
cessful, and they no longer feel the need to continue. Generally, patients
just want to orient their lives in a better way, to find a way to manage or
get rid of their symptoms, and they stop analysis when they are happy with
the results they obtained.
For Lacan, psychoanalysis does not even aim specifically at therapeutic
results. As he put it, “A cure (guérison) only came in a way as a bonus... it
is quite certain that our justification as well as our duty is to ameliorate the
position of the subject. But I claim that nothing is more uncertain in the
field that we are in than the concept of a cure” (Lacan, 2014 [1962–1963],
p. 56). It is not that psychoanalysts are uninterested in alleviating symp-
toms, but this is not their principal aim. The aim of psychoanalysis does
not concern the symptoms as developed in ego behaviors or attitudes. For
psychoanalysts, the specificity of healing in the analytic field consists of
giving meaning to symptoms and giving place to desires masked by those
symptoms (Lacan, 2001 [1964]). The analyst strives to work on the analy-
sant’s identifications which has an effect on how somebody positions
themself in life (Lacan, 2014 [1962–63]). A Lacanian psychoanalyst
knows that its the side effects that save us.
And indeed, none of the analysants I interviewed indicated having fin-
ished their analytic therapy. Although all of them believed their therapy
was enriching and provoked change, none of them considered it to be
complete. All of them think they may return to their analyst in the future,
which was something they thought the analyst would always welcome. For
the time being, all decided to stop the process and seemed satisfied with
their therapeutic gains. Although different reasons were given for stop-
ping therapy (e.g., money, time, dependency), it is interesting to note that
all of the analysants I spoke to thought they could continue working on
certain themes. However, for now, they preferred not to. For this reason,
the “ex” in “ex-analysants” may actually be inaccurate.
Lucy said her therapy was enriching, but she became afraid of what else
might appear and what she was going to do with that. At the time, every-
thing seemed to be alright, as she had moved out of her parental home
and gotten a new job.
I think it still would be an enrichment, you can get a lot out of it, things you
don’t know, but I’m just afraid of what’s going to come out of it, is it going
to be relevant, what should I do with it then? Or what shouldn’t I do with
it? Things, questions that I don’t know what will come up, maybe because
it will be too emotionally stressful that I’d rather ignore it.
26 D. G. M. DULSSTER
For Daniel this was more specific, pinpointing one theme he preferred not
to elaborate on any further. He told how the analysis ended after two years
because he wanted to avoid talking about his wife. He said he “talked
about her, she always came up, but didn’t elaborate on it too much.” He
was scared of talking about her, stating:
indicator when things get “too much” and that she has to slow down in
life. Daniel illustrated how his analysis subverted his idea of what exactly
the idea of personality is and how this loses all coherence, while also indi-
cating that throughout his entire analysis, he avoided talking about one
certain theme (his wife). Hans showed how he was fixated in the gaze of his
analyst, only being able to take action in life after ending the analytic treat-
ment. Anna’s story tells us something of the oral drive and how, through
analysis, her drinking problem “bubbled out like a glass of sparkling water,”
leaving her with the fantasy of “drinking a latté macchiato in Silicon Valley.”
In applied psychoanalysis, we would consider the end of the treatment
as an “open-endedness.” It is in any case not up to the psychoanalyst to set
a time limit to an analysis. The unconscious is a timeless dimension; thus,
the time of an analysis is experienced as indefinite as well. We cannot pre-
dict how long a subject’s time for understanding will last, insofar as it
includes a psychological factor that escapes us by its very nature (Lacan,
2002b [1953]). One has to take time to say certain things. One has to
stutter and allow time for wondering, transference, surprise, repetition,
seeing, saying well, and understanding. A Lacanian psychoanalytic therapy
makes it possible to map out the identifications, to loosen their grip with
the aim of reaching the end of an analysis, one has to do a thousand and
one turns before it can finally come to a time to decide (Chiriaco, 2012).
analyst. This is also why Lacan (2002b [1953], p. 247) states that being a
silent listener is the heart, the function of analysis. This method, if we
summarize it, is elementary—you have to learn to be silent. Loose lips sink
ships, and the more one talks the less words mean. For the analyst, there
is always time to add a word, but never time to take one back (Dulsster
et al., 2019). One must make sure speech is rare so that it can carry, so that
it can hold, the patient’s attention (Miller, 2011). The psychoanalyst is on
the side of silence, and when they take up speech, it has to be between
enigma and citation (Dewambrechies-La Sagna, 2020). Lacan refused the
analyst the exercise of the power of speech, the power to suggest and influ-
ence the analysant. It is not easy to stay silent, to hold back the power
of speech.
The importance Lacan attended to silence is beautifully illustrated in
“Les impromptus de Lacan” (Allouch, 2009, p. 139). When a supervisee
complained: “But Monsieur (Lacan), this young man comes to me three
or four times per week, tells me his stories to no end, pays me and goes.
What is it that I have to give him in exchange?” Lacan answered: “Your
silence!” Indeed, it is often forgotten that a silent, attentive presence may
be one of the most radical things a psychoanalyst has to offer.
However, the fact remains that this silence is not maintained indefi-
nitely. One does not consult an analyst to just talk and be heard. It is not
just a matter of pouring one’s heart out. An analyst does have to say things.
The analyst has things to say to their analysant, to the one who, all the
same, hasn’t come along simply to be confronted by their analyst’s silence
(Lacan, 1976b [1975], p. 43). When the subject’s question assumes the
form of true speech, the analyst “will sanction it with his response” (Lacan,
2002b [1953], p. 255).
In “Direction of the Treatment” Lacan further elaborated on the posi-
tion of the analyst. Here, Lacan uses three core concepts to characterize
the psychoanalyst’s actions: tactics, strategy, and politics. Lacan borrowed
these concepts from Carl von Clausewitz (1780–1831), a Prussian general
and military theorist who stressed the moral and political aspects of war.
His main objective was to incorporate the unruliness of the practice of war
into theory. Clausewitz opposed those who reduced the strategy of war to
a dogmatic doctrine of geometrical lines and points, on which the opera-
tions should be based (Kloosterman, 2018 [1982]). Without a doubt,
Lacan must have found a real brother-in-arms in Clausewitz, who wrote
that the primary purpose of any theory is “to clarify concepts and ideas
that have become confused and entangled. Not until terms and concepts
30 D. G. M. DULSSTER
have been defined can one hope to make any progress in examining the
question clearly and simply” (Clausewitz, 2007, pp. 79–80).
For Clausewitz, “tactics teaches the use of armed forces in the engage-
ment, strategy the use of engagements for the object of war” (Clausewitz,
2007, p. 74). Both tactics and strategy underlie politics, which “concerns
what a war is meant to achieve and what it can achieve” (Ibid, pp. 134–135).
To illustrate this, Clausewitz uses the example of a march: If a column is
ordered to take a route on the near side of a river or a range of hills, that
is a strategic measure—it implies that if an engagement should be fought
during the march, one prefers to offer it on the near rather than the far
side. The way the forces are used whenever an engagement might happen,
concerns the tactics.
Using his differentiation between the imaginary and symbolic dimen-
sion, Lacan uses these concepts to think about the unruliness of psycho-
analytic treatment and the actions of the psychoanalyst. For Lacan, the
politics will concern the end of the treatment (what an analysis is meant to
achieve), strategy will concern the matter of transference (walking on the
symbolic side of the road), and tactics the matter of interpretation (the
way words are used whenever an engagement happens). As the analyst will
engage the patient in analysis, “the enterprise of analysis will consist of
paying with words (interpretations), paying with his person (transference),
and paying for becoming enmeshed in an action that goes right to the core
of his being (what is at stake at the end of the treatment)” (Lacan, 2002c
[1957], pp. 490–491).
Tactics
Lacan (2002b [1953]) stresses that bringing the psychoanalytic experi-
ence back to its foundations of speech and language is of direct concern to
its technique. The principal role of the psychoanalyst consists of making
full speech possible, making sure the analysant can associate freely, so the
signifiers of the unconscious can appear. The action of the analyst will be
to validate signifiers and ideas in the analysant’s speech that are unex-
pected, or troublesome from the perspective of the analysant’s ego.
Therefore, the analyst will “pay with words,” meaning that they must for-
mulate interpretations, which is a matter of tactics, the use of forces in the
engagement in which an analyst “is always free in the timing and fre-
quency, as well as in the choice of his interventions” (Lacan, 2002c [1957],
p. 491). Looking at the contents of Fink’s Fundamentals of Psychoanalytic
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 31
tongue as a highly complex statement, and even the rest of a silence as the
whole lyrical development it stands in for” (Lacan, 2002b [1953], p. 209).
For me, a striking illustration of a “discontinuity that surprised the
analysant (and the analyst as well)” happened in a session with Carol. She
consulted me because of an impossible grief concerning her late husband,
feeling helpless without him. She could not have wished for a better man.
While speaking about how she finally got her driver’s license after his
death, she said “I was glad when my husband died... as I finally got around
getting that driver’s license.” The pause that appeared in that sentence was
a tad long, which had a startling, surprising effect on me. Having listened
to her for weeks about how intolerable it was that her husband had died,
I suddenly, through her (un)intentional pause, had heard her saying she
was glad he died. She noticed my surprise and thus noticed what she her-
self had said was odd. First in shock, saying I might have gotten the wrong
idea, she then for the first time conveyed how, as perfect as her husband
was, she had become completely dependent on him. She was not allowed
to do things on her own. He had made her completely helpless. This had
put her grief in a different perspective, offering her a chance to break free
from this. The mourning did not concern her husband as such, but the
position she was in and how she had missed a lot of things in life because
of how her husband had behaved and how she went along with this.
Such moments of surprise, of a disruption in continuity, do not only
disturb the comfort of the ego but also bring the analysant—if one wants—
to accept subjective truths that have been neglected so far and to act (e.g.,
breaking with a certain repetitive pattern in their life). The task of the
analyst is to be attentive to the symbolic dimension, which appears through
the cracks of the imaginary, through the cracks of the ego. Discontinuities
in speech point to where the ego tumbles, they mark the place of the
unconscious and therefore also of the subject.
Now, this would give the impression that we have to wait for such slips
of the tongue or dreams for the subject to appear. Having conducted my
interviews with the ex-analysants, this seems to me a radical misunder-
standing. When I was introduced into psychoanalysis, one of the examples
given to illustrate the dimension of the unconscious was the famous exam-
ple given by Freud (1961 [1898]) of forgetting the name Signorelli.
Freud, associating on this signifier, stumbles on his own anxiety, fear of
mistreating patients, and so on. Starting my clinical work, I often won-
dered when such moments would appear. Sometimes a week passed with-
out a patient making a slip of the tongue (or me hearing the slip of the
2 THE REIGN OF SPEECH 33
Kaukaa voi hän jo kuulla, miten niitä nyt ajettiin takaisin talleihin,
mutta hän ei halunnut kysyä, montako niistä tuli ja savu olivat
tappaneet. Kaiken tuon sai hän kyllä tietää tarpeeksi pian — jo
huomenna. Tänään ei hän luullut kaipaavansa enää muuta kuin
lepoa. Hän totesi, että useimmat talonpojat olivat poislähdössä
palatakseen jälleen Arokszállakseen. Tuo taivaanrannalta näkyvä
ruusunpunainen juova alkoi levetä ja kirkastua, ja savunkin läpi voi
hän nähdä, miten tähdet himmenivät auringonnousun lähestyessä.
Isä Ambrosius sanoi hänelle monta lohduttavaa sanaa, ja jokainen
talonpoika nosti kunnioittavasti lakkiaan mennessään vararikkoon
joutuneen kreivin sivu.
TOINEN OSA
XVI
PÄÄSIÄISAAMU.
»Mistä?»
»Mutta sitä kai et voine kieltää», sanoi vanha Berczi, »että juuri
tuona tulipaloyönä muuttui András tuollaiseksi omituiseksi ja
vakavaksi»?
»Pauhu oli hirmuinen viime yönä. Eilen kävin aivan kreivin talleilla
asti ja minusta näytti, että koko Bideskuty on veden vallassa».
Jokaisen asunnon ovesta tuli nyt tielle kauniita tyttöjä, jotka olivat
pukeutuneet koko sunnuntaikoreuteensa. Leveät silitetyt pellavahihat
kiilsivät ja kansallisväriset, punaiset, valkoiset ja viheriät nauhat
liehuivat tuulessa. Kaunis huntu, joka oli sidottu niskaan suurella
nauharuusulla, täydensi kuningatarmaisen pienen pään kauneutta.
Tukka oli kammattu sileäksi ja letitetty kahdeksi paksuksi palmikoksi,
pusero oli edestä kauniisti koruompeluin kirjailtu ja hoikan vartalon
ympärille oli napitettu ahtaat liivit. Lukemattomat hameet heiluivat
iloisesti tyttöjen kävellessä omituisesti lanteitaan heiluttaen, suuret
kultaiset korvarenkaat, useat helminauhat ja liivien kirkkaat soljet
loistivat auringossa yhtä kirkkaasti kuin kauniit silmät ja lumivalkoiset
hampaat. Vanhemmilla naisilla oli hieman tummemmat puvut ja
pitemmät hunnut, kirkkaanväriset huivit peittivät heidän hartioitaan ja
kaikilla oli käsissään suurilla joko messinki- tahi hopeahakasilla
varustetut raskaat rukouskirjat.
»Hän tuli kyllä tänne viime vuonna, mutta en tiedä, tuleeko hän
tänään», sanoi eräs nuori Bideskuty’n paimen. »Kun sivuutin
päärakennuksen, odottivat vaunut ja hevoset portaitten edustalla,
joten on varma, että kreivitär ja nuori neiti saapuvat».
»Auta minut ylös, Rezsö, äläkä puhu tyhmyyksiä. Olen varma, että
jalo
Ilonka on aivan alttarilla olevan pyhän neitsyen näköinen».