web analytics

Lemme just read that again

Filed in psychology | the world Comments Off

“This is an original and unusual work whose purpose is to make madness”

That’s what I read on the dust jacket flap for THE DIVIDED SELF, R.D. Laing’s first published examination of ‘ontological insecurity’ — the sense for some people that they’re losing themselves, becoming lost in the world.

For many students of psych, Laing holds a special place. He was described by my lecturers as a ‘psychedelic psychologist’: criticised for his mind-bending poetry, applauded for his humanity. If I recall correctly, Laing & his students would check themselves into mental institutions to expose them from the inside out as places that ‘blamed the victim’, that described the patients’ behaviour in ways that re-emphasised (& moralised) their illnesses.

‘Look at how the patients cluster around the lunchroom an hour early. Clearly they’re displaying greed,’ went the populist view of the ‘crazy’ behaviour found in these institutions.
‘Look at how little the patients have to do here, & how often they’re ignored. What else is there, of a day, apart from eat lunch?’ argued Laing.

And this was really Laing’s stance: that our attempts to fit into the world as it is cause us distress. That psychosis has a social birthplace. That the conversation of crazy people was a result of an attempt to express the distress caused by a crazy world. Laing was revolutionary in valuing the content of psychotic behavior and speech as a valid expression of distress, albeit wrapped in an enigmatic language of personal symbolism which is meaningful only from within their situation, claims Wikipedia. Laing also went a little bit further (some might say ‘a little bit too far’) in suggesting that the voyage of psychosis was ‘shamanistic’, leading to deeper revelations about truth & reality. A popular & dare I suggest potentially destructive portrayal of mental disorder, the kind of thing found sometimes in Janet Frame’s (occasionally self-justifying?) writing, & such movies as ‘The Fisher King’: a kind of poetic self-destructiveness, later validated in a sentimental reality. More productively, Laing’s ideas have ended up, in a pragmatic form, establishing the foundations for modern psychotherapy. Relation to the world is equivalent to the relation to the self, argues psychotherapy. Change your perception of the world, change yourself.

One strand of Laing’s thinking, traceable to Marx and Sartre, condemns society for shackling humankind against its will, taking away individual freedom.

This I’ll come back to in later days, having just finished Albert Camus’ THE OUTSIDER (aka THE STRANGER) & not found myself completely convinced of the tyranny of society, nor the absolute rights of the individual.

On the one hand, I applaud Laing’s recognition of the reality of the individual, the dichotomy between self & other & the anxiety that can cause. On the other hand, I can’t carry that through to the *lack* of responsibility of the individual. If the world and my distress has lead to my disordered (differently-ordered?) thinking, can I be excused from killing a man? By logical extension, yes. By every other moral standard … lines must still be drawn.

Oh, & the rest of that quote from the dust jacket? It actually goes,

“This is an original and unusual work whose purpose is to make madness, and the process of going mad, comprehensible to many who have no direct experience with this phenomenon. R. D. Laing offers new insights to many who, in either a professional or a personal context, are familiar with madness. He examines certain forms of madness in an existential frame of reference — the man who is an “outsider”, estranged equally from himself and from society, unable to experience himself and others as being real and substantial. An individual who is so basically insecure develops a “false” self with which to confront his world, in order to achieve some formula for living with his anxiety and despair. This process may lead to the gradual disintegration of the whole personality, and Laing traces the lives of a number of schizoid and schizophrenic individuals.”
– The Divided Self, R.D. Laing, 1960, Tavistock Publications

, ,

Is it me?

Filed in psychology Comments Off

One of my favourite psych ‘disorders’ is narcissism. This may have something to do with my Psych degree, or it may have something to do with meeting so many narcissists. Or it might just be all about me. See, that’s the irony of narcissism: a little can be quite healthy, a lot turns you into a deluded freak. And as artists aren’t we always trying to believe in ourselves? Except for those of us who already, perhaps a little too much, do?

Psychology today has a series of articles on narcissism. Do they really hate themselves? (Not enough, some might argue, & the article does finish by reminding us the world isn’t just. Which, y’know, most of us didn’t really need to be reminded of.) Apparently implicit and explicit self-esteem can now be measured. Over at Harvard’s Project Implicit, you can take a test to check out your implicit self-esteem in the area of professions. I’m pleased to note even implicitly I identify more with publishing than engineering. At least the subconscious is playing along, eh?

The narcissistic boss requires excessive admiration (admiration more than liking, which explains a lot) and is interpersonally exploitative. And The Field Guide to Narcissism examines the charisma (often short-lived) of the narcissist:

Intensely narcissistic people often live tumultuous lives, as few people can tolerate them for long. But having a milder version of the personality type comes with many side benefits. [snip] Mild narcissism also seems to help people recover from accidents or other trauma—it gives them an unrealistic sense of their own invulnerability, and they believe that they will be able to handle whatever else life throws at them. As one researcher put it, being somewhat narcissistic is like driving a huge SUV: You’re having a great time, even while you hog the road, suck up extra resources and put other drivers at higher risk.

Sounds kinda nice, actually. Relaxing, like.

And finally: Is there an epidemic of narcissism today?

Ahhhh, the cult of personality.

Yikes, Jung.

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

From quotez:

“The foundation of all mental illness is the unwillingness to experience legitimate suffering.”
-Carl Jung

Not sure I’d stretch it to ‘all’ mental illness (though, y’know, out of me & Jung, pick the famous psychologist type. So … ), but I’d pay this one. Avoidance is a mental ouroboros. A green-eyed monster that doth mock the meat it feeds on and ok, now I’m getting a bit carried away.

So let’s complement that with:

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
– Winston Churchill

and:

“The best way out is always through.”
– Robert Frost.

Boy, I just have dozens of these, don’t I.

You know, on a tangent, I was talking to a guy once who happened to work in advertising, & we were discussing upcoming movies, & I was saying, ‘Oh, the Movie Show reviewed that, & they said…’ Anyhow, the second time I said, ‘Yeah, the Movie Show guys said…’ he sniggered, cut me off & said, ‘Have you thought about coming up with an original opinion on anything by yourself?’

I think the next thing I said to him was, ‘Good night.’

And let me re-iterate: he worked in advertising. One of those vocations renowned for originality. So his point about my unwillingness to come up with an original opinion on movies as yet unreleased in my city was completely justified. Or, wait, no, I think he was just a complete tosser. Yeah, yeah, that could be it.

As to that self-indulgence thing that’s all over everywhere online, love nihilistic_kid‘s comment today:

I just thought this was an amusing addition to the conversation, since the self-indulgent/non-self-indulgent fight seems to be boiling down to another round of Artists vs. Hacks, again, sans any evidence of what actually motivates people to write. Of course those artists just love their own selves (ooh, smoochie smoochie, mirror man!) and of course the hacks just want to stick to formulae and do well by their readers (it’s in the contract!), goes the conversation so far. But the first person I met who actually gets to discuss motivations and meanings with dozens of authors per year pegged two uberhacks as the most self-indulgent of writers straight off.
So nyah nyah on everybody.

I don’t actually mean to get into the self-indulgence debate. It’s just that I find everyone else’s reactions so entertaining. Plus, clearly, tonight I have no original opinions on anything.

What I’m wondering, though, is how to gauge motivation &, once gauged, how to critically assess it? I’m wondering this because it seems to me that motivation is, in fact, important. Because I think it seeps into a work & therefore into a reader. In my mind, now, motivation has become twisted around with intention. ‘What is the author’s intention’ goes the popular highschool English lesson. As a student, I used to want to argue that it didn’t matter what the intention was, what mattered was what I took away from the text (I was post modern before I was even post modern. Does that make me pre-post modern?). But now I think intention is understated. Overlooked, even.

What, indeed, *is* the intention of the author, any author? What assurances, what subliminals, what attempts to get into the psyches of readers exist out there? What amount of trust should we give, & what hold in reserve? What imbalances are we contributing to the collective consciousness (thanks, Jung) if such exists? *Can* we contribute to the collective consciousness, or are we just passive recipients? Why did I not bother to check my facts before I started this post?

What numbers of people are wanting to ask me to defend my blithe comment that motivation is important — given that I have bothered with no evidence whatsoever? ;)

, , ,

Religious Artefacts

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

doctor_k_ poses an eternally interesting series of questions:

So : are you religious/irreligious? What role does it play in your life? What are the central tenets of your beliefs/ lack of beliefs? How do you reconcile the bits of your religion that don’t fit? If you have changed your religion – why?

Religion is a mild fascination for me. I will likely go on about it at great length.

,

Sugar and spice

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

Ditmar results announced: congratulations to all who won & all who were nominated!

What she sez: Yay, Justine Larbalestier, for poking holes in that whole ‘woe is me, it’s just not the same around here since the golden age ended’ rubbish some people go on with. Please. I hate that shit. The best chance we have of seeing the best fiction in history to this point is right now, when we have the benefits of the (entire literary) canon that has been forged already, coupled with the unique insights of our time. And if I live a thousand years, you’ll find me saying the same thing a thousand years from now. Because literature is for the living, & the time we’re living is *right now*, so howsabout we goddamn make some use of it.

Also want to agree with the divine Ms L re. the new anonymous blog on genre fic. Its slogan is ‘Vote for stories, not for friends’. It’s as true in this field as in any other that there are alliances that can be made. Allegiances that may be used either to drum up promotion or conspire to keep silent, all because of friendship or other shared attributes. Though I prize honesty, I don’t necessarily support cruelty. Though I want to assist friends, I’m not comfortable with complicity or politic conspiracies. Also I know that these were the rules of the game as given to us, that we may forge strategic networks or otherwise, that we may offer ourselves as marketable product, or not. There are also a host of other positions and compromises that may be made and maintained. Each one of us makes our own decision, & all that is required is that we allow room enough for each other to find our own locations on the matrices.

I like the idea of an anonymous blog of honest critique. It’s a challenge, though. I wonder how long anonymity may be maintained. I wonder how much honesty is too much.

Related to the above post (by marriage): Scott Westerfeld covers interesting ground with his post on perceptions of beauty. Digital TV shows up Cameron Diaz’s bad skin. Shoot. Good thing I decided to stick with writing for a trade. Remind me to turn down all those Letterman interviews.

I couldn’t take that kind of pressure. Ah, how the myth of perfection has turned into a capitalist dream! Keep us anxious, keep us consuming, no possible resolution to either of these entwined processes.

Beauty is an interesting topic. I like beauty.

, ,

Brain pretzel gumbo

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

More brain food for those recent discussions:

“If the world was without any natural evil and suffering we wouldn’t have the opportunity, or nearly as much opportunity, to show courage, patience and sympathy.”
- Richard Swinburne

“When written in Chinese, the word ‘crisis’ is composed of two characters – one represents danger, and the other represents opportunity.”
- Saul David Alinsky

“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.”
- Sir Winston Churchill

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
- Theodore Roosevelt

And by the way,

“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”
- Aristotle

, ,

Now, this is interesting

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

“However jewel-like the good will may be in its own right, there is a morally significant difference between rescuing someone from a burning building and dropping him from a twelfth-storey window while trying to rescue him.”

Thomas Nagel, Mortal Questions

, , , ,

In & Out

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

It’s interesting how statements once meant to be inclusive have become exclusive. Like, take for example, B.F. Skinner.

Skinner (1904-1990, or so the web tells me) is considered to be one of the forefathers of that particular school of psychology known as behaviourism. When I was studying psych, behaviourism was like some kind of consolation prize. It was functional, common-sensical, even, but it lacked romance or spiritual excitement. It talked about curing people by making their maladaptive behaviours go away, but it said nothing about the mind or the soul, or about belief and identity, emotion or integrity.

‘I fear giant rats are eating at my brain, and they start underneath the smallest fingernail of my left hand,’ said the client.
‘Count to five and remember this anagram: EAMPT. Continue in this manner until you desist from driving your left fist into the nearest wall,’ replied the bahaviourist.
‘Can I tell you about my mother?’ asked the client.
‘Goodness, no. But I can train you out of the *desire* to talk about your mother, if you like,’ said the behaviourist.
‘Will that be helpful?’ asked the client, scratching at her left palm.
‘It will *look* helpful, and who is to say that is not help enough?’

By now, you may suspect I’m oversimplifying behaviourism, & you’re right. But that’s because behaviourism is not at the heart of my point, & I couldn’t be bothered checking my facts right now.

My point is that when Skinner was writing (he is most often cited for his papers in the 1970s), the word ‘men’ was inclusive. It meant ‘humans’ or ‘people’ or even ‘humankind’. So that when I pasted his comment into my lj last week, though *of course* I was aware of the connotations & denotations of the word ‘men’ nowdays, still, in my mind, I was reading Skinner as he intended. Men as people. Of the comments I received on & off-list, not one made reference to this reading.

Men, I now note, means *men*. Not people. Men are just _some_ of the people. They are not all.

I quite like this. It makes me happy.

Let me translate, then, Skinner’s words into our modern banter.

“The real question is not whether machines think, but whether the writers of Matrix 3 had anything at all going through their heads when they etched together that ridiculous script of theirs, thereby wiping out all the love I had for their first, deadly cool movie & leaving the taint of bile in my throat.”

There. Done.

Next up: Conflux2 = love.

, , , ,

What if it is?

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

And in other ‘fun things you, too, can do’, today I updated my will.

It was just an overdue thing — nothing at all to do with all the dying that’s featured in discussions lately. I stumbled across the half-completed will under an overdue water bill (which seemed particularly poignant at the time) & thought, oh yeah, this thing, I’ll just fill this in right now. It’s not like my ‘estate’ is in any way complex or extensive.

So I completed the new will right then at work & surprised a couple of colleagues into witnessing it for me & I tore the old one in two & I felt pretty good. Like I had outwitted death by leaving behind a few words & some trinkets with a sentimental value only, & some small sliver of paid-off mortgage.

Then I got a little worried about how I’m spending my time, & whether my priorities were really working out for me & I thought, ‘you know, I really need to be *living* my life a little more’. Which is just one of those irksome ideas that can either galvanise or immobilise you, depending what you determine to make of it.

And I thought to myself, fuckitt, galvanise.

And then I reflected on a scene from Six Feet Under that I found particularly moving, & went looking for a transcript online, & here is the bit I mean.

, , , ,

Why today & not tomorrow?

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

“Suicides have already betrayed the body.”
– Anne Sexton, Wanting to Die

Today’s subject line was prompted by girliejones in our discussions on the suicide of Hunter S. Thompson.

How do you pick a day to die?

Not just die. How do you pick a day to inflict irrevocable violence on yourself? How do you reach a point where that seems the better option? How do you do that to yourself knowing what legacy you are leaving to your family, friends, fans, neighbours?

And in case you haven’t read these blog entries yet, I recommend them to you. You might find some answers there: lonewolfe‘s Suicide is painless… and Lee Battersby‘s Thompson.

Since there is so much talk going on about this, I felt an urge to clarify myself. I should say upfront that, so far, I have not been touched by suicide. I’ve known OF people who suicided, I’ve not known people who HAVE suicided, I have never contemplated it myself. Suicide is ugly. I don’t buy into the romantic glory of it despite the extent of my sympathies for its victims.

And now things get a little gross & if you are feeling sensitive or vulnerable right now, you can avoid this bit

, ,

Never understanding

Filed in Uncategorized Comments Off

But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.

Anne Sexton, Wanting to Die

http://www.poets.org/poems/poems.cfm?45442B7C000C07050E70

Thankfully, I want most to know ‘why build’.

Thief —
how did you crawl into,

crawl down alone
into the death I wanted so badly and for so long,

– Anne Sexton, Sylvia’s Death

, , , ,

TOP