Levi Bryant recently wrote a post outlining a paper he will be delivering to practicing Lacanian psychoanalysts, on ‘the new symptom‘. In this post I want to address his idea of “the new symptom” and its relationship to an interruption in the symbolic order produced by the shift from a paternal to a maternal superego. This is not so much a critique of Bryant’s position as it is a use of it to launch my own examination of an intuition I’ve had for some time regarding the superego. It is my contention that the superego is no longer maternal or paternal but bipolar: the superego of the capitalist present is ‘matripatriarchal’. Following Gregory Bateson, I provisionally explore the thesis that “the new symptom” is a frustrated and failed response to the exposure to a double-bind produced by a bivalent imperative: Enjoy Responsibly! In general terms, this post is best understood as contributing to a possible political therapeutics.
Politics and therapy will be one and the same activity in the coming
time. People will feel hopeless and depressed and panicking, because
they are unable to deal with the post-growth economy, and because they
will miss the dissolving modern identity. Our cultural task will be
attending to those people and taking care of their insanity, showing
them the way of a happy adaptation at hand. Our task will be the
creation of social zones of human resistance that act like zones of
therapeutic contagion. The process of autonomisation has not to be
seen as a Aufhebung , but as Therapy. (Franco Berardi. 2009. Communism or the therapy of singularisation).
As usual, what follows is provisional and very open to criticism. All references to Levi Bryant in this post refer to the post I’ve linked to above, unless otherwise stated.
Bryant suggests that the emergence of the new symptom is the result of a transformation of the symbolic order. He identifies three traits of the new clinically hegemonic disorders:
1) they are asignifying ; that they don’t contain a ‘veiled demand’ to the Other;
2) their jouissance doesn’t ‘pass through the battery of signifiers’. It should be remembered that these are Lacan’s terms and as such preserve a technical meaning. I don’t pretend to be a Lacan expert so my attempt to get to grips with these terms probably falls far short of Bryant’s intended use of them. That said, what is important here is the sense in which signification is identical with significance and meaning. When Bryant suggests that the “new symptom” is asignifying, that it ‘attempts to repress signification altogether’, he is putting forward the idea that it refuses to be meaningful to such a degree that it is not even meaningless. Instead, the new symptom doesn’t even appear on the horizon of meaning at all, not even as an empty space. At least, in his ginger repressive hypothesis, Bryant is stating that this is the “new symptoms’” goal: addiction aims at a disappearance from meaning and significance.
Insofar as there is no signification there is also no address to the other that is being hidden. The idea of a veiled demand implies that the demand made is not explicit. In a psychoanalytic frame, Lacan speaks about the hysterical demand. Accordingly, the hysteric demands that the analyst tell her who she is and in so doing asks an infinite demand that the analyst can’t possibly meet, any response failing to capture the inexhaustible field of the question ‘who am I?’. In making such a hysterical demand of the analyst, the hysteric is placing it in the position of subject-supposed- to-know that can simply give to her what is missing (the absent knowledge of self). This is always the demand that the analyst occupy the position of the master. This is an argument retraced in the Zizek-Critchley debate of a few years ago in which Simon Critchley suggested that politics should consist of a chain of such infinite demands, such as the demand for justice or equality, and that ethical experience is similarly structured by the imposition of such a demand. I invoke this moment because it is telling: Zizek’s reply consisted of suggesting that this is really a capitulation of political agency to the state, asking it to deliver for one what one wants. The anarchist demand for the abolition of the master, as Lacan himself pointed out, is actually a demand for a true master. It is a disavowed demand for a master who could deliver one’s desire without any gap, into whom one could dissolve in identity (a la a certain mystical understanding of god).
In truth, the demand to be told who one is translates as ‘I am whatever you say I am by virtue of you having said it’. In the psychoanalytic example, the analyst occupies the space of the Other. In the political example, the state occupies the space of the Other.
The Other in Lacan is not a human other. Although the Other can is approachable through another individual human being (ie; the analyst) its being Other exceeds that intersubjective relation. The individual other becomes Other when they are identified with the Symbolic order. More, the person of the analyst is the particularisation of the symbolic order for the subject that addresses it. The analyst embodies the symbolic order, and the symbolic order is the order of meanings without referents. In the proclamation, ‘the King is dead, long live the King!’ the term “king” signifies both the embodiment of the symbolic and the Symbolic itself. The first “king” is the physical person, Richard III for example, and it is identified as having died. A corpse can’t be king, it is not a person, it can’t exercise power or preside over court, and it can’t issue edicts or engage in the other practices that constitute the pragmatic reality of kinghood. The second king, the King, is the Symbolic King. This is the King without referent, the king which exists without any particular king physically occupying the throne; it is the office of the King that can’t be reduced to the carnal being that bears its title. “The king is dead, long live the King” can formally be translated as “the other is dead, long live the Other”.
So we have a very brief treatment of the demand and the Other, all that remains is the ‘battery of signifiers’. The battery of signifiers is a network of mutually determining terms that constitute a description of the structure of knowledge. In other words, the “battery” is a linguistic set that allow the articulation of knowledge. Even more simply, if the Symbolic can exist apart from its embodied manifestation (its signifier) then the “battery of signifiers” is what allows us to say so; it is verbal language itself, parole. The subject of the “new symptom” doesn’t have to pass through the web of words in order to get at its jouissance.
To define this last term, let me remind you that Freud thought that human being want both to reduce suffering and to increase intense feelings of pleasure but that it can only achieve one of these goals. In Freud’s treatment, unenlightened hedonism recedes into the background so that we can focus on the goal of avoiding pain. Jouissance is precisely the intense pleasure to be found in the recklessness of the pursuit of the repressed pleasure-seeking behaviour. What we have come to know as pleasure in the everyday sense doesn’t compare to the eruption of jouissance that, capturing its danger, Lacan said ‘starts with a tickle and ends up bursting into flames’ . Jouissance is fundamentally an experience anchored in the transgression of this pleasure-principle. The pleasure-principle seeks only to satisfy need, operating as it does within the scope of the reality-principle’s recession of unabashed hedonism. Far from being an affirmation of instant gratification the pleasure-principle is in fact a limit on pleasure seeking that prevents an excessive amount of pleasure flooding the subject. It is this flooding that flows from the transgression of the dam constituted by the pleasure-principle that exposes the subject to an experience of too much pleasure. Jouissance is the eruption of pleasure that the subject can’t handle. As such, jouissance is suffering.
Returning to Bryant’s post we can see what is at stake in his description of the “new symptom”. It refuses signification, makes no demand of the Other, doesn’t enter the battery of signification, and therefore
3) has ‘a direct jouissance’.
Usually jouissance is blocked by the pleasure-principle which is immanent to the symbolic order, as is clear from that principle’s consisting of a prohibition. Lacan identifies the symbolic order with language and law. The symbolic is thus also that which structures what can be experience and what can’t, providing a regulatory function that operates through a system of prohibitions. We can think here of the Ten Commandments being a specific form of the symbolic that has passed through the battery of signifiers, with God as the Other and Moses as His embodiment as other. As far as “the new symptom” goes, we can think of the alcoholic in this way of ordering experience as the subject whose jouissance is dependent on the transgression of the prohibition on excess alcohol consumption, the prohibition on intoxication also being a transgression of not succumbing to base appetite. In other words, the alcoholic has jouissance only insofar as it is mediated by the symbolic. In the new frame, Bryant says, things are radically different: the subject has direct jouissance.
Bryant follows Lacan in describing a collapse of the discourse of the master, identifiable with the old frame, and its having been supplanted by the discourse of the capitalist. I won’t repeat Bryant’s retracing of that move here as I think the picture it produces is one that is instantly recognisable. Suffice to say that in the old frame the subject’s symptom was an attempt to signify something, to articulate some meaning that couldn’t be articulated. This last point is structural in Lacan, as the signifier can never signify the subject: ‘the signifier (S1) represents the subject ($) for another signifier’. In the new frame, this attempt at signification is abandoned. In a sense, this transition might be summarised as an obliteration of the Socratic frame, with its ancient injunction “Know Thyself”. It is here that Bryant makes the claim that I am keen to address.
In place of Know Thyself, Bryant states that there is a new ‘maternal superego (S1) that commands the subject ($) to enjoy in the form of commodities’. If the old discourse of the master (“Know Thyself”) has disappeared then it has been replaced by the new discourse of the capitalist (“Enjoy Thyself”). Bryant goes on to state that for Lacan no commodity can ever satisfy the enjoyment that the subject has been compelled to seek for structural reasons. Jouissance requires transgression of prohibition in order to be attained or even aimed at. In the absence of a prohibitive superego there is nothing for the subject to transgress. The enjoyment that the subject is compelled to seek is thus impossible owing to the very operation of that which compels it. For Bryant, insofar as we follow this pleasure imperative we are disappointed, frustrated, and wracked with guilt and anxiety as regards our failure. Bryant wants to suggest that the “new symptoms” are products of this new superego, raising the hoarding and compulsive shopper as its exemplars par excellence. They consumer and accumulate without end, with no eye to use-value. On the other end of the scale, the anorexic and the bulimic ‘refuse the command’. For Bryant, the addict is exemplary of capitalism because she does not require a master (God, state, nation- some Other to figure the symbolic) because the addiction-object occupies the empty space that the master would have been required to fill. In other words, we no longer have hysterics demanding the analyst constitute them through the psychoanalytic (linguistic) relationship, but addicts who attempt to constitute themselves through their addiction. The new symptom can’t be read metaphorically as they have been in the past because they do not address and do not pass through an Other. They are marked by a kind of ‘solipsistic autonomy’ where there is no positioning of the analyst as subject-supposed-to-know: the work of analysis reaches an aporia.
There is a lot in Bryant’s post to agree with but I want to suggest that this isn’t the full picture. I have had the sense that there is something missing from this picture of the maternal superego since I first read Zizek declaring that the prohibitive imperative has been replaced by one centred on enjoyment and consumption. I agree that the superego today compels the subject to enjoy but I don’t think it can be characterised so unilaterally. Instead, I want to put forward that the superego issues a double-bind. The double-bind was the theory put forward by psychologist and cyberneticist Gregory Bateson  to explain the development of schizophrenia. The essence of the theory is that the subject finds is located within a communication environment that is characterised by contradiction. For Bateson this environment was constituted by the contradictory communications issued within a family system. There are several elements to the double-bind that I will slightly modify for my own concerns:
1) It occurs within a system that is composed of at least two persons.
2) The experience that produces the symptom is a repeated activity that generates a primed expectation.
3) An explicit prohibition is issued (do/do not do x or you will be punished)
4) A contradictory injunction is issued that negates the prohibition but which is communicated implicitly.
5) A limit injunction is issued that prevents the subject from escaping the situation.
6) The establishment of the double-bind means that not all elements of that communication pattern need to be in place to generate the symptom.
Bateson never intended the theory of the double-bind as a complete aetiology of schizophrenia. Originally, the theory was meant to stand as the organising principle of all communication in the schizophrenic’s (familial) system. Conceived of as privileging the mother-child dyad, the image of a maternal superego remains apt. I am not attempting a full account of the production of the “new symptoms” (most of what Bryant says stands, and a number of other elements- such as embodiment- contribute). Similarly, I am not attempting to outline a general semiotic theory. This is a specific case, circumscribed to the present concerns, and only partial in its elaboration. This is less a full blooded theory and more the articulation of an intuition.
My intuition is that there is a version of the double-bind operating under capitalism. To explore this I need to map the algorithm of the double-bind map onto capitalism:
1) Capitalism is a system composed of multiple communicative agents (human and non-human).
2) The communicational pattern that produces the symptom is a repeated activity that generates a primed expectation.
3) An explicit imperative to enjoy! is issued (enjoy or you fail as a subject).
4) An implicit injunction is issued that contradicts the injunction to enjoy (the police, don’t steal, go to work, be cautious, vigilant, and so forth).
5) A limit injunction is issued that prevents the subject from escaping the situation (pay your rent, ‘that’s just the way it is’, ‘life is unfair’, ‘one man can’t do anything’ etc.).
6) Once the communicative pattern is established any one of these elements can trigger the double-bind experience.
There are several elements here that I need to justify. By communicative agents (communicants) I mean anything capable of engaging in communicative action towards the subject. In this way I am not invoking a notion of a moral agent possessed of a more-or-less freewill. Similarly, I don’t mean something like a political agent that has rights and responsibilities. In a much more straight forward way I am referring to anything with the capacity to communicate something to the subject. To illustrate this I will briefly discuss advertising.
Advertising is a form of communication that dominates the semiotic horizon of most cultures. I was born in an era already colonised by advertising and have grown up surrounded by jingles, images, billboards, chatter, pop-ups and so on and so on. Like most people living in affluent parts of the world today, I am saturated by advertising, my capacities for attention crowded by its hydra of messages. (I have a joke I tell people; I will remember my first advertising jingle long after dementia has eaten away the memories of my first love). Advertising as an industry is certainly a communicant in the sense I am proposing. However, most of us have a more immediate relationship with adverts that. There are material and semiotic communicants, although none exemplify advertising so much as television. In today’s digital culture the ”recommended for you” function of sites like Amazon is increasingly hegemonic. It almost goes without saying that human beings and nonhuman animals are also communicants (whether or not they have access to verbal language).
In this definition it could be said that I’m making everything into a communicant and therefore evacuating the concept of any meaning. There are two possible responses to this. First, communication is always the communication of information. To return to Bateson, we can add to this that communication is as he defined it ‘a difference that makes a difference’. For something to count as communication rather than simply noise (or movement) it has to make some kind of difference: it has to have an influence on that medium that receives it. Some change takes place in the receiver, a change that alters or maintains the receiver’s form. This second sense of influence is the same as in the case of the sudden disappearance of DNA. Were DNA to disappear, the organism would cease to exist; its presence makes the difference.
Even this isn’t enough though. As Bryant states in The democracy of objects , objects always have to bring something new into themselves in order to continue existing. He gives the example of conversation in that discussion: if conversational partners keep repeating the same thing then the conversation has ceased. The process “conversation” needs novelty to maintain itself. In the case of advertising, new adverts have to be produced all the time in order for the communicants to remain communicative (new adverts have to be produced; new consumer objects have to be produced), to keep making a difference that makes a difference. Information is thus something that communicants enact. As long as something is enacting an information exchange it can be called a communicant.
In my advertising example, it is clear to me that a billboard can be a communicant if it enacts an information exchange with its intended recipient, the consumer. A further complication here is whether or not the consumer is a communicant. Doesn’t communication require at least some kind of mutuality between parties? No, simply because we don’t expect to be able to enact an information exchange with a billboard. The consumer can’t exchange his information with the billboard and thereby influence that billboard as he walks by it (although he could certainly vandalise the bill-poster, altering its signification). It would seem that this would mean that the human being can’t be a communicant, but we know that humans communicate with one another all the time. This counter-intuitive non-communicativity of the human consumer (nations and corporations are consumers too) is strictly delimited within his relation to the billboard. When he talks to a sales-rep (a corporeal advert) he is certainly able to communicate and be communicated with; he may not be able to communicate with the car radio or the internet stream but these modes of transmission do allow the consumer to feedback about the advertising, and the amazon example is clearly one of (involuntary) information exchange from the human to the nonhuman. The point being, whether something is or is not a communicant depends upon the particular network of relations it is enacting at that time, and the direction of those interactions. The problem of communicative agency is a local, non-linear, one.
The second response to the claim that I am making everything into a communicant is based on the first. If my first response states that anything could be a communicative agent but that it is not necessarily one at this time, given these relations, then my second response would be: so what? No one is claiming that all communicants are equal. A cup might be capable of communication but I can’t conceive of a reason why I should want to devote time to finding out. For the same reason, I can’t imagine being upset by this claim. I grant that there are consequences to a position like this but at the moment I have already travelled further away from the double-bind than I intended. For now, I want to claim that the ‘so what?’ response is justified by thinking of communicants as dual, as either active or inactive. When a person is not engaged in the production of information-novelty, it is not the case that they have ceased to be a communicant merely that they have ceased to communicate. In other words, it is the capacity for communication that grants the status of communicant.
Capitalism is a system composed of multiple communicants. This is not to say that it is only composed of communicants. It is also not a claim circumscribed to capitalism. Under capitalism some communicants are more active than they have been in the past; new communicants have been produce; and others have become inactive or destroyed. Communicants are what lay down the communicational pattern of a given situation, thereby giving rise to ‘expectation’. I feel that expectation is a crucial and underexplored concept for understanding ourselves and the world around us, and I would like to elaborate on it here only very briefly.
In Luhmann’s  work expectations are not just anticipations regarding the future. Expectations form a structural part of the communicative process. When an agent communicates with another agent it must assume that each of them have a shared world of meaning. In Lacanian terms the assumption is that their battery of signifiers is structured around the same master-signifier or Other. In making this assumption the agent is able to formulate an expectation that the communication will succeed. This is clearly at odds with my own view of communicants: a billboard could no more expect a subject to understand it than it could give birth. This only means that expectations only belong to some communicants. Expectations have a second role in Luhmann’s, they modify the behaviour of the agent. When I meet my doctor and I give her a list of my symptoms, I expect that she will listen and prescribe an appropriate treatment regime. This is an example of a situation with pretty high ‘expectational security’. This picture can be complicated if we include the doctor’s expectations of my expectations of her. This is what Luhmann refers to as ‘expectation-expectation’. Here, there is clearly more room for things to go wrong with the communicative relationship. If I came to my doctor and proceeded to eat a tin of dog food with sex toys for cutlery it would be fair to say my doctor’s expectations would have failed. Should she respond by joining me, clearly my expectations of her expectations would have failed. At a socio-political level we can detect in this a possible theory of international law, for example. What I want to emphasise here is that it is clear that these expectations are structural units of engagement in the world for the subject. The subject simply couldn’t go about its daily life without expectations that structure its behaviour. The point is, expectations are action-oriented. A further point is to emphasise that expectations are expectations: there is no reason to think they correspond to reality. Actually, they regularly fail to correspond to reality. This allows us to be shocked, surprised, informed, intrigued, delighted and seduced. It is also a source of certain experiences of disappointment, disenchantment, hopelessness and loss.
With Luhmann, we see that expectations are based on a more fundamental assumption. It is the assumption that (a particular set of ) communicants have a shared world of meaning. This returns us to Lacan. The idea is that we assume that the symbolic order is operative and efficient. Rather than following Lacan, I want to deploy the psychiatrist C.M. Parkes  concept of the assumptive world. This assumptive world was developed as a way of talking about core conceptual schemas that persons develop in order to organise their experience on the world based on past experience. I would propose that this ‘assumptive world’ is what gives rise to the ability to build expectations. To mark the difference, let’s consider what happens when expectations fail. We can be surprised or embarrassed or disarmed or endangered. When the assumptive world fails, as Kaufman’s ‘Safety and the assumptive world’ points out, ‘All is lost. Hope is lost’. Whilst expectation is action-oriented, the assumptive is the subjective condition for the possibility of expectation formation. Essentially, the destruction of the assumptive world injects nihilism into the game, and the ability of certain systems to form expectations is destroyed.
Alongside the breakdown of the prohibitive superego we have also seen the re-composition of the assumptive world. This is another way of phrasing the liquidity of liquid modernity, or the idea that all that is solid melts into air. I am not claiming a causal relationship here, just stating that these two moments occur at the same time. Just as the superego doesn’t disappear, I am also not stating that the assumptive world has disappeared. Where the paternal superego forbade, the maternal compels enjoyment.
I want to suggest that the maternal and the paternal actually operate in tandem. The maternal voice is clearly the dominant one in today’s capitalism, but it is too much to suppose that the paternal voice has disappeared or that we can let it disappear from our discourse. The current communicational pattern of capitalism, as a system of systems, as an intermatrices, is one in which two messages circulate at the same time and directed toward the subject. We could identify the maternal superego with the kind of capitalism that Bryant points to, whilst the paternal voice would be (porously) confined to the biopolitical and the juridical.
In Bateson, the three moments of the communicational pattern can all be made to coincide. I think this happens in the phrase that we see a lot in advertising here in the UK: please enjoy responsibly. This is a clearly not a prohibitive statement: It does not say, do not enjoy. It says enjoy, but do it within the limit. Yet the superego which issues this paradoxical injunction ‘enjoy responsibly’ does not set the limit. Yes, there are official alcohol limits and this phrase does come in the small print of screen adverts for alcohol. But it is small print; the subject is not encouraged to look. The subject isn’t really meant to know how much the healthy limit is. He is supposed to enjoy, but he isn’t meant to really enjoy. This is less about jouissance as the transgression of the pleasure-principle and more about a perversion of the pleasure-principle itself. The twin imperatives are launched at one and the same time: hedonic abandon and responsibility. Enjoyment does not become the coincidence of pleasure with duty, as in certain strains of Roman thought, but because the continuous wrenching of pleasure from itself. It is in this sense that the “bipolar superego” produces a disjunction within the subject. It occupies the subject through the endocolonisation and structuring of her enjoyment. If we turn to Epicurus we are told that
The body receives as unlimited the limits of pleasure; and to provide it requires unlimited time. But the mind, grasping in thought what the end and limit of the body is, and banishing the terrors of futurity, procures a complete and perfect life, and has no longer any need of unlimited time. Nevertheless it does not shun pleasure, and even in the hour of death, when ushered out of existence by circumstances, the mind does not lack enjoyment of the best life. (Epicurus, Principle Doctrines).
In the present historical juncture, Epicurus would have to restate this for a subject exposed to the erasure of an understanding of ‘the end and limit of the body’. Today, one must enjoy but without knowing how much and how far to go…what is the end of pleasure for us? What is too much?
It is in this context that I think Bryant is correct in asserting that there is something particular to the present about the OCDs, the eating disorders. The question is not the question of a binary choice between the absolute affirmation and the absolute negation of the superego’s injunction. The question that “the new symptom” is a frustrated and failed attempt to answer is that of this bipolarity and the disappearance of the limit of pleasure and with it, control. None of this is to say that these symptoms are new, but that the novelty of “the new symptom” is constituted by the hegemonic presence of these symptoms.
I want to suggest that the actual clinical subjects of these “new symptoms” are subject to an infinite responsibility. If Adrian Johnston’s  characterisation of the prohibitive function as serving to produce ‘external barriers to impossible jouissance to relieve the subject of the burden of having to discover that enjoyment fails, that drives are constitutively dysfunctional’ then the anorexic, the hoarder, and the compulsive shopper are exposed precisely to failure, dysfunction, antagonism. They live this ‘plaguing’, as Johnston calls it, by enact ‘plagued’ ways of coping with that exposure. The rich and invaluable autobiographies and phenomenographic studies into anorexic experience reveal again and again the dimension of it as an illness that enacts a failed attempt to control the body, to find the limit of the embodied experience of enjoyment, and the dual “daemonic voices” of self-loathing and perfectionism. When we work with hoarders, we are working with people unable to stop themselves from consuming economically but unable to consume actually. With the obsessive-compulsives disorders we have people unable to prize apart what is information from what is noise (I once worked with a person who drove for hours to return to a billboard he had passed but not paid “close enough attention” to).
The novelty of “the new symptom” isn’t to be found in the emergence of these symptoms as new but in their origination as a partial response to the double-bind experience that I have been outlining. As a word of caution, I don’t think we can use a model like this one to explain all symptoms. The attempt to provide a single, coherent aetiological theory for the origin, development, and maintenance of any psychopathological experience is bound to fail and to limit our possible therapeutic horizons. The situational embeddedness of each person displaying or giving voice to these symptoms has to be given serious attention. We have to also consider the corporeality of these symptoms: the material body, the material spaces and places of enactment (cf. Megan Warin’s brilliant 2009 Abject Relations: everyday worlds of anorexia), and the question of whether these symptoms can be considered a kind of material-semiotic that doesn’t require a passage through language to be communicative. This last point is the reason I have reservations about including self-harm (“cutters”) in the chain of symptoms nominated as “the new symptom”, as their communicative appeal to others is often vividly emphasised (cf. Marliee Strong’s theoretical and phenomenographic A bright red scream: self-mutilation and the language of pain). As a practitioner, it is important to me to remember that each individual presentation, each individual experience, requires is its own. This theory is therefore a kind of perspicuous representation of the situation at large. I hope to approach the question of treatment in a future post. I hope it is clear by now that I consider the question of treatment not just within the clinic but also as politics. The task is to unite names like Marx, Kropotkin, and Foucault with those of Epictetus, Epicurus, and Wittgenstein.
 Jacques Lacan. 1991. Le séminaire. Book 17: L’envers de la psychanalyse (1969-1970). Paris: Seuil.
 Gregory Bateson. 1953. Toward a theory of schizophrenia. Behavioural science. 1953:1.
 Levi Bryant. 2011. The democracy of objects. Open Humanities Press. http://quod.lib.umich.edu/o/ohp/9750134.0001.001.
 Niklas Lurmann. 1995. Social systems. California: Stanford University Press.
 C.M Parkes. 1988. Bereavement as a psychosocial transition: process of adaptation to change. Journal of social issues. 1988: 44]. pp.53-65.
 Adrian Johnston. The forced choice of enjoyment. The symptom. http://www.lacan.com/newspaper2.htm