june 2003 -UPDATED- whereabouts in the world religious crusades are still as savage as ever contemporary art and technology are still basically lacking strong harmonious in developed supports for each others' perspective understandings.

netart is still underdeveloped for a practical concept, a function and a user identity

 

<2000 new millenium 3000>

away from the ambiguous memories of all the respectful religions

of the past two milleniums...now just be more creative only...

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Mediterranean Metaphores -2-

After Cairo, it was essential to visit the next legendary Mediterranean city: Beirut.

During my five day visit to Beirut, I was hosted by  Christine Tohme, who tirelessly took me to the artists’ studios all around the city, driving through the brand new avenues and dangerously narrow streets. Within the traditional and modern urban texture, the most striking aspect of the city was the absence and the abundance reflected respectively in the gothic looking façades of the ruined apartments and villas and on the mirrored fronts of the high-tech skyscrapers. Among them, an extremely hollow-eyed and spooky looking yellow “konak”-like building which  stood off by itself on a large street corner, caught my eye. Later, I heard Rita Awn talking about this once exquisite building. She has visited it several times, looking for traces of a past life, reviving her own memories of life before the civil war, and documenting whatever was possible.

All of the other artists I visited, Walid Sadek, Walid Raad, Marwan Rechmaoui, Nelly Chemaly, Jihad Touma, and most of the video-films I had the opportunity to see during the past year, had an insistent and enduring  approach to the problem of re-thinking and re-constructing the past. This seemed to be the common attitude. Putting aside questions on the nature of this pursuit, such as “is it nostalgia?”, I listened to the description of past and recent works and future projects. The works mainly by-passed the outdated modernist ways of categorizing the past and the present local-world.

The artists were aware of two things: The bizarre chapters of the history of the Middle East should be investigated painstakingly and in detail, in order to challenge the limitations of any world view that was constructed in the 20th century Middle East, and an earnest critique should be made of the  polluted and disordered thinking. This attitude has a constructive trajectory. Even more so when we recognize that most of these artists, having lived and worked abroad before and during the war, willingly came back to Beirut to have a hand in re-building.

Secondly, the city was intensively present in their works. It became a perfect metaphor for their common and private histories. We all know that history in our region continuosly flows towards us and beyond us and we hang in space between this perplexing transition; sometimes we run away from it, but at the same time, addicted to this perplexity, we always come back to our cities. It is not that they had a wish to return to those days, even if they can no longer find the solidarity, attachment and devotion they had during the long days and nights in their shelters. They want to convey that their attitude to the past is a very critical one, that they want to get a grip on the past. They know that through their knowledge and experience they can find and display infinitely many perspectives toward a contingent paradigm of a future city.
 

When compared to their contemporaries in the Western centers, there is a certain difference in their attitudes. The new artists in the West (Western or Non-Western) claim that art and the everyday (the trivial) are collaborating in re-defining the commodity culture. They believe that they are not afraid of playing by the rules of the commodity. There is not only a certain philistinism in attitudes, but also in the mega-exhibitions that are being designed in relation to this kind of art. It has to be said, that most of these artists come from working class and middle class background; evidently they pay their tribute. This seems not to be the case in Beirut.

The artists mostly come from the upper-middle class; they are well-educated, intellectually emgaged and committed. Their works represent a radical configuration of the context and have a critique which is rather in the domain of conjectural reference. Even if they penetrate into the deepest levels of the everyday life, the forms and values of the art works don’t favorably interfuse with the popular  culture of the street, which is extremely influenced by “wild” capitalism.

The artists obviously utilize the strategies of critical post-modernism. I think they know very well that the outcome of their detailed preparation and their strategy to transform in the hope of promoting social changes is ultimately immeasurable.
As in Istanbul, art in Beirut is still the performance/activity of a handfull and not a total culturalisation, as in New York, London or Berlin, where “change through art” has become purely utopian. There is still a certain promise of social change in the air and the artists can still have an effect, especially when they invite the people to consider the spatial and social interdependence of the private and the public, of the state and the citizen. It seems very likely that in Lebanon as well as in Turkey, artists will contribute to the making of a civil society of the 21st century.
Beral Madra Ocak -2000-
 

http://abone.turk.net/btmadra/homepage.html
http://abone.turk.net/btmadra/mmetaphores.html

 

 

ARTWORK MAKES THE EVERYDAY LIFE OF THE VIEWER EASY

As a hyper exhibition of artworks under the grandiose title of Dreams and Conflicts: The Viewers Dictatorship, the 50th Venice Biennale is fiercely decisive for the 70's and 80's protagonists and wide open to the expectations of young generation artists, designers and architects. By placing reknown/unknown, rich/poor, optimist/pessimist, compasionate/cold-blooded artists from three generations and different socio-political and economical backgrounds, side by side, the curators of the Arsenale shows have broken the rules of hierarchy within the international art-world and arranged a confusing track for the viewer. However, the remains of the old rules were still to be observed in the group exhibition in the Italian Pavilion, where there is that conservative, subtle and balanced transitions from one artist to the other.

The everlasting modernist order of pavilions in the Giardini seek to restore the damaged sense of equilibrium of the viewer. The conflict between the new pursuit for modernist aesthetics and the post-modern, contaminating everyday simulations furnished the biennale with a chaotic structure, which could be exciting, if it was consciously made. Evidently, it is an almost impossible task to orchestrate more than 60 curators (pavilions, arsenale, extra 50) to a more or less harmonious tune… The viewer on the other side, coming to Venice for the opening days, was not able to consume the event (8 exhibitions in the Arsenale, 30 pavilions in the Giardini, 20 pavilions in the city and the 50 Extra) in its entity.. In Venice Biennale, due to its national representations, artists from countries with obscure political and economic infrastructures have to breathe side by side with artists from well-fare democratic countries with omnipotent culture industries. A fact, which is a challenge, when articulated in an intelligent manner, but also requires a certain resistance from these artists. The flagrant manifestations of artists from the Asian territories profoundly reflected this urge for a better recognition, by elaborating the content and form of their works more than substantive. Very annoying were the performances and images of some of these artists, playing the role of the colonised or saluting self-orientalisation by articulating the traditional, folkloric and tourism elements, such as attractive traditional garments, zen meditation and accentuation of Asian or African identity. The lack of critical thinking and anachronism of some of the artists from the post-periphery is also evident in the artworks that are only dealing with the material to create mystical reflections on nature and life or exploiting it with decorative connotations. The number of the video-works were reduced in favour of paintings, evidently as a growing consensus between the curators and the art market. No doubt selected with care, but once more, the videos were the disputable in their form and content all over the biennale. The border between the journalistic documentary, narration, caricaturist commentary and conceptual work was blurred in many video-works and installations. On the other hand, this possibility of being on the same platform - even if it is an illusion- makes the Venice Biennale the most sought art place to be in. This year even Iran, which is one of the most introvert countries in the world, acquired a pavilion and realised its first participation in the 21st century. Every year Venice is becoming more and more vulnerable; the heath, the humidity, the excessive biennale crowds induced the working conditions and the the infrastructure of the city. Customs was blocked, transportations was slow, electricity broke and after all the Venetians were in agony. Yet, they had to yield to the difficulties, because of the enormous income the biennale provides for the city every two year. The adventure of the participant country, which has no pavilion in the Giardini, starts with searching a space in the city, preferably on the main arteries of the labyrinth to catch the attention of the international art experts and the press. Available are palaces and churches with rents between 15000 to 60000euro for six months. The next step is to provide accommodation for the artists and the exhibition crew, a choice between fairly expensive hotel rooms and apartments. For example for our group of five we had to pay around 6000 euro for 10 days of accommodation. The transport of the works, the production and distribution of printed material, the production of works, the installation costs in the exhibition space, the maintenance of the exhibition etc. are exhausting the modest budgets of the countries with obvious economic deficiencies. Yet, for many Venetian individuals and groups, this burden has become a flourishing business. 12th of June, when the biennale was opened to the press and media, the exhibitions in the Arsenale were 40% unfinished. The crowd, some among them barefoot and nearly all with fans in the hands, was streaming from exhibition to exhibition in the Corderie, where the magnificent space was divided to claustrophobic sections with white walls. It is hard to understand, after all it has been discussed about the transmission between the space and the art work, that curators and artists can sacrifice the grandeur of a historical space to the precarious existence of the artwork on white walls. Being intrusive, I witnessed how hastily the experts and the journalists were looking at the artworks; practically three or four days are not enough to look at the 400 artists exhibiting in different venues in Venice. So, the experts and the journalists have no possibility to discover something by themselves but to follow the rules and look at the artist already known and supported by well-established galleries, dealers, art critics and curators. The ecstatic - not to say hysteric - environment of the opening days is obviously an outcome of the art system, born in the late modernism and became a self-consuming grotesque in post-modernism. The actors of modernism were the artists creating ideologies; today the actors, favouring the system linked to the global kapitalism, are manipulating the position of the artists according to the requirements of the network. Within this network, the viewer is submissive, silent and confused. Looking to the 8 exhibitions in the Arsenale, one can see the scheme of the network. The artists of the exhibitions who can never come side by side in the real life ( most of them probably have never met each other) seek here equal recognition. Have they ever discussed with each other the concept, installation and relation of the works and the exhibition? Prominent and protagonist artists of the recent past such as Art&Language, Gilbert&George, John Baldessari, Anselm Kiefer, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Roman Opalka and reknown architects such as Rem Koolhas, Araki Isozata, Hasan Fathy have accepted to exhibit with completely unknown names and newcomers in an environment where there is no inner dialogue and coherence. Their "noble" modernist works are put in collation with works that are articulating everday life realities and trivilaties, that have got off the rails. Seems to be an interesting turn in the history of contemporary art! Utopia Station, at the furthest end of the Arsenale, is a mega-neo-fluxus show and the tail of the Biennale, as the rigidity of the national pavilions dissolve here into free debate and gain some political vision. It also immediately reminded me Progetto Oreste Uno, a creative initiative of a large group of artists of Italy coordinated by Cesare Pietrouisti, Pino Boreste and many others during the 48th Venice Biennale in the center of the Italian Pavilion. The fact that, interdiciplinary debate, process demonstration, employment of mass media technologies and strategies can reach larger and broader public, created a new generation of artists with one foot on the high art, the other on the mass media. Here, I will not write in depth about the pavilions of USA (an overloaded and repeated imagery of black identity), G.Britain (I have'nt seen such a decorative pavilion before), France (steril and distanced), Germany (would Kippenberger install this underground vent into the pavilion, when he had seen the last global war?) Japan and Corea (always in favour material and technology), as these will be reviewed extensively in newspapers and artjournals extensively. The most striking event in the biennale was the two "closed" pavilions. The pavilion of Spain was sealed to acsesss by Santiago Sierra, with a crudely made wall behind the main entrance and by two policeman (!) in attendance at the back door, allowing only the viewers with the Spanish passport to enter. As Spain is a member of EU, even the acsess of EU citizens was restricted! This is an art work with effective political protest on what is happening in EU and Spain concerning the emigration politics. The closed Venezuela Pavilion is not an art work, but an act of censor by the Misnitry of Culture of Venezuela. One of the censored artists Pedro Morales insisted on coming to Venice to protest (please refer to (www.pedromorales.com; www.cityrooms.net; www.orinokia.com). In remarkable juxtaposition as artwork and reality, these metaphorically and factually sealed pavilions, do not only cast a doubt on the power of art, artwork and the artist within the state apparatus of the democracies and within the free forum of the biennale, but also on the role of the viewer, who is inactively watching the ambiguity. It is difficult to take a distance and annotate the works, I have seen in three days. Bonami's intention to reflect a wide range and variety of contemporary art production became an accomplishment, so that one can neither track the statements of the curators of the international exhibitions nor find a consensus between the pavilions . Within the complexity of the biennale I could discriminate and categorize some facts: - There is a significant contradiction between the artworks of the well-fare Europe and USA artists and the artists of the rest of the world: The former are tranquil and latent and transformed art into a stratagem (for example Bruno Gironcoli in the Austrian Pavilion, Sylvie Eyberg and Valerie Mannaerts in the Belgian Pavilion, Jean-Marc Bustamante in French Pavilion, Candida Höfer in German Pavilion, Ruri in Iceland Pavilion, Little Warsaw in Hungarian Pavilion); the are in emergency and crisis and use art as a force (for example Sora Kim& Gimhongsok in The Zone of Urgencey, Ratomi Fani-Kayode in The Faul Lines). The memory of contemporary art plays its game too frequently... Since Jean Clairs Biennale genetic deformations or the post-human representation has been totally consumed and almost lost its excitement. Patricia Piccini's silicone creatures in the Australian Pavilion, Maurizio Cattelan's robot Charlie, Charles Ray's Female Figure and Berlinde de Bruyckere's "the black horse" in "Delays and Revolution" (Bonami& Birnbaum) are being chased by the phantoms of the works of the Chapman Brothers, Ron Mueck, Katherina Sieverding (Rat King) and Kiki Smith. Or, David Hammons' bronz Budhas may pray for safety (with safety pin on a string in between them), but this has been done before many times by Nam June Paik (since 1974)…Haven't we seen enough cars/trucks before, for example Wim Delvoye's Cement Truck, Soo-Ja Kim "Cities on the Move in the 48th Biennale ? Alfredo Juan's stainless steel jeep and Damien Ortega's decomposed VW, even with convincing concepts, look like surfeit examples. - There were two significant panel discussions during the biennale. The second version of Venice Agendas, organised by Audio Arts, London, Nuova Icona, Venice, Wimbledon School of Art, London, Cardiff School of Art &Design (UWIC), in association with the comissioners of Wales and Scotland, and supported by the British Council took place in Metropole Hotel. To three breakfast sessions, dealing with the issues and questions such as "Biennale in a new century", "The new and recent presences at the Biennale", and "Is the Biennale 'a charming anachronism' in danger of sinking?" prominent representatives of various institutions and free lance curators were invited to contribute. In fact, aside from the main pavilion, with the three of the new presences, Scotland with the exhibition "Zenomap" in Palazzo Giustinian Lolin, Wales exhibition in the ex-Birrerie in Giudecca and The Henry Moore Foundation exhibition "Stopover" in the newly restored Convento dei Santi Cosma and Damiano on the Giudecca, Great Britain was the most ambitious participant of the Biennale. This extensive presence reflects the apparent decentralisation and independence of regional art production and management as well as a fruitful competition between the institutions. The two Giudecca venues were the most charming and suitable places among the places that can be acquired in Venice. These exhibitions were strategically highlighted with rich receptions and parties. This is another sign that the sanctity of the pavilion politics are being critically exploited by the new generation curators and artists. As to the question, whether the Biennale is a sinking ship, one could say that it is rather drifting than sinking. Drifting in the stormy global politics and economy waters. Looking back to the Biennale of 80's and early 90's, when the milieu was still naïve, idealistic and romantic, the last biennale tend to be shrewd, sarcastic, an market-oriented with the sophisticated opening days visitor profile. However, the Arsenale shows, among them particularly the Utopia Station, with works of political content and statements may stir an argument among the protagonist intellectuals of the world, the biennale in its entirety seems to be powerless to resist the severe political agenda of the world. After all, at a time when on the political and economical level, new borders are being drawn between the regions, religions and cultures the Biennale (and all other multicultural exhibitions) aim to break the borders, at least in their concepts and contents! This task requires an effective theoretical and practical reciprocation and exchange from its components. Two grand scale exhibitions are being held in Praque and Klosterneuburg to accentuate this reality. Organized by Giancarlo Politi and Helena Kontova, editors of Flash Art magazine, together with Milan Knizak and Tomas Vlcek, directors of the National Gallery in Prague, the inaugural edition of the Prague Biennale aims to create a pluralistic vision of contemporary art. In this new biennale the concepts we are very familiar with "peripheries become the center," and "dissolution of the dichotomy between periphery and center " are going to be articulated by a large group of curators. The other more accentuated event is Blood & Honey- Future's in the Balkans is curated by Harald Szeemann in Klosterneuburg. Sponsored by The Essl Collection 73 artists from Albania, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Kosovo, Croatia, Greece, Macedonia, Moldova, Romania, Slovenia, Turkey and Serbia-Montenegro will exhibit their work on an area of 3,500 m2. The significant aim of this exhibition has been declared as "to awaken western sensitivity to the existence of this cultural landscape". What I can deduct from these actions is that the international contemporary art front is slowly approaching Middlest and Near Asia! To the other forum, CEI (Central European Initiative) www.ceinet.org organised by Trieste Contemporanea Committee www.tscont.ts.it under the auspices of Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in collaboration with the Academy of Fine Arts of Venice and supported by CEI, Regione Autonoma Friuli Venezia Giulia and Beba Foundation, directors, experts and curators from Yugoslavia, Poland, Lithuania, Moldova, Hungary, Ukraine, Czech Republic, Croatia, Latvia, Slovenia, Romania, Russia, Macedonia, Turkey and Italy were invited. The ongoing fragility in the infrastructure and networking of the contemporary art institutions because of the economic and political deficiencies and instabilities was the main topic of this forum. After plenary sessions and workshops a declaration was signed by the participants, calling support from governments and international organisations in the form of continuous structural and financial contributions, stressing the autonomy and freedom of creativity from any type of political pressure and instrumentalisation and accentuating the necessity of exchange programs and partnership projects. It should not be overlooked that the presence of CEI countries in the Biennale after the wall, has immensely contributed to the totality as well as to the regeneration of the picture of contemporary art production in Europe. What should also not be overlooked in this years Biennale were the projects and products of various work-shop for the improvement of the urban and civil infrastructures of the city; a refreshing attempt to activate the engagement of the local and international viewer. The regeneration of the Archivio Storico delle Arti Contemporanee, The Cord, the spatial connection of the exhibitions with a 200m long steel cylinder created by a group of architects ( Archea Associati) and The Artificial Reserve, a project coordinated by Cesare Pietroiusti with the students of the Academy of Fine Arts of Venice were some of these new presentations. I would like to go back to my catalogue text and examine the viewer's position in this mega-show. The ideologies of art maintain their function as being a part of social life and the critical conscious of the society, and artists face the situation in which patterns for orientation and action of the past no longer work more than the society. They are the ones who find new options and actions to provide answers for everyday life conflicts and major emergencies. With Paul Vanguiem 's words "Everyday life always produces the demand for a brighter light, if only because of the need which everyone feels to walk in step with the march of history. But there are more truths in twenty-four hours of a man's life than in all the philosophies." Despite all the generalization, standardization and totalizm in the world, this twenty-four hours still makes all the difference within the supremacy of the corporate economy and global politics. The bloodstained pages of the last decade, 11th September and its savage outcome is the production of everyday activity of the human being, which paradoxically has imprisoned and poisoned his/her everyday life. It is a perfect vicious circle! The artists, evidently aware of the eminence of it, approaches these twenty-four hours in detail, itemise and particularise the facts with his/her inevitable sophistication and self-contempt; the magnitude of this task can be seen in the images of desperation, emergency, clamour and transgression. The viewer generously but cunningly gives the artist the right to intervene into the minute details of the common life, and the authority to cry out his message to the world from a headland, to make him an accomplish...

beral madra june 2003 on 50esima venice biennale

 

 


Jacques Lacan (freud's disciple)
In his discussion of the absolute division between the unconscious and the consciousness (or between id and ego), Freud introduces the idea of the human self, or subject, as radically split, divided between these two realms of conscious and unconscious. On the one hand, our usual (Western humanist) ideas of self or personhood are defined by operations of consciousness, including rationality, free will, and self-reflection. For Freud and for psychoanalysis in general, however, actions, thought, belief, and the concepts of "self" are all determined or shaped by the unconscious, and its drives and desires.
Jacques Lacan is a French psychoanalyst. He was originally trained as a psychiatrist, and in the 1930s and 40s worked with psychotic patients; he began in the 1950s to develop his own version of psychoanalysis, based on the ideas articulated in structuralist linguistics and anthropology. You might think of Lacan as Freud + Saussure, with a dash of Levi-Strauss, and even some seasoning of Derrida. But his main influence/precursor is Freud. Lacan reinterprets Freud in light of structuralist and post-structuralist theories, turning psychoanalysis from an essentially humanist philosophy or theory into a post-structuralist one.
One of the basic premises of humanism, as you recall, is that there is such a thing as a stable self, that has all those nice things like free will and self-determination. Freud's notion of the unconscious was one of the ideas that began to question, or to destabilize, that humanist ideal of the self; he was one of the precursors of post-structuralism in that regard. But Freud hoped that, by bringing the contents of the unconscious into consciousness, he could minimize repression and neurosis--he makes a famous declaration about the relation between the unconscious and conscious, saying that "Wo Es war, soll Ich werden": Where It was, shall I be." In other words, the "it," or "id" (unconscious) will be replaced by the "I", by consciousness and self-identity. Freud's goal was to strengthen the ego, the "I" self, the conscious/rational identity, so it would be more powerful than the unconscious.
For Lacan, this project is impossible. The ego can never take the place of the unconscious, or empty it out, or control it, because, for Lacan, the ego or "I" self is only an illusion, a product of the unconscious itself. In Lacanian psychoanalysis, the unconscious is the ground of all being.
Where Freud is interested in investigating how the polymorphously perverse child forms an unconscious and a superego and becomes a civilized and productive (as well as correctly heterosexual) adult, Lacan is interested in how the infant gets this illusion we call a "self." His essay on the Mirror Stage describes that process, showing how the infant forms an illusion of an ego, of a unified conscious self identified by the word "I."
Central to the conception of the human, in Lacan, is the notion that the unconscious, which governs all factors of human existence, is structured like a language. He bases this on Freud's account of the two main mechanisms of unconscious processes, condensation and displacement. Both are essentially linguistic phenomena, where meaning is either condensed (in metaphor) or displaced (in metonymy). Lacan notes that Freud's dream analyses, and most of his analyses of the unconscious symbolism used by his patients, depend on word-play--on puns, associations, etc. that are chiefly verbal. Lacan says that the contents of the unconscious are acutely aware of language, and particularly of the structure of language.
And here he follows ideas laid out by Saussure, but modifies them a bit. Where Saussure talked about the relations between signifier and signified, which form a sign, and insisted that the structure of language is the negative relation among signs (one sign is what it is because it is not another sign), Lacan focuses on relations between signifiers alone. The elements in the unconscious--wishes, desires, images--all form signifiers (and they're usually expressed in verbal terms), and these signifiers form a "signifying chain"--one signifier has meaning only because it is not some other signifier. For Lacan, there are no signifieds; there is nothing that a signifier ultimately refers to. If there were, then the meaning of any particular signifier would be relatively stable--there would be (in Saussure's terms) a relation of signification between signifier and signified, and that relation would create or guarantee some kind of meaning. Lacan says those relations of signification don't exist (in the unconscious, at least); rather, there are only the negative relations, relations of value, where one signifier is what it is because it's not something else.
Because of this lack of signifieds, Lacan says, the chain of signifiers--x=y=z=b=q=0=%=|=s (etc.)--is constantly sliding and shifting and circulating. There is no anchor, nothing that ultimately gives meaning or stability to the whole system. The chain of signifiers is constantly in play (in Derrida's sense); there's no way to stop sliding down the chain--no way to say "oh, x means this," and have it be definitive. Rather, one signifier only leads to another signifier, and never to a signified. It's kind of like a dictionary--one word only leads you to more words, but never to the things the words supposedly represent.
Lacan says this is what the unconscious looks like--a continually circulating chain (or multiple chains) of signifiers, with no anchor--or, to use Derrida's terms, no center. This is Lacan's linguistic translation of Freud's picture of the unconscious as this chaotic realm of constantly shifting drives and desires. Freud is interested in how to bring those chaotic drives and desires into consciousness, so that they can have some order and sense and meaning, so they can be understood and made manageable. Lacan, on the other hand, says that the process of becoming an adult, a "self," is the process of trying to fix, to stabilize, to stop the chain of signifiers so that stable meaning--including the meaning of "I"--becomes possible. Though of course Lacan says that this possibility is only an illusion, an image created by a misperception of the relation between body and self.
But I'm getting too far ahead of where we're going.
Freud talks about the 3 stages of polymorphous perversity in infants: the oral, the anal, and the phallic; it's the Oedipus complex and Castration complex that end polymorphous perversity and create "adult" beings. Lacan creates different categories to explain a similar trajectory, from infant to "adult." He talks about 3 concepts--need, demand, and desire--that roughly correspond to 3 phases of development, or 3 fields in which humans develop--the Real, the Imaginary, and the Symbolic. The Symbolic realm, which is marked by the concept of desire (I'll explain this in more detail later) is the equivalent of adulthood; or, more specifically for Lacan, the Symbolic realm is the structure of language itself, which we have to enter into in order to become speaking subjects, in order to say "I" and have "I" designate something which appears to be stable.
Like Freud, Lacan's infant starts out as something inseparable from its mother; there's no distinction between self and other, between baby and mother (at least, from the baby's perspective). In fact, the baby (for both Freud and Lacan) is a kind of blob, with no sense of self or individuated identity, and no sense even of its body as a coherent unified whole. This baby-blob is driven by NEED; it needs food, it needs comfort/safety, it needs to be changed, etc. These needs are satisfiable, and can be satisfied by an object. When the baby needs food, it gets a breast (or a bottle); when it needs safety, it gets hugged. The baby, in this state of NEED, doesn't recognize any distinction between itself and the objects that meet its needs; it doesn't recognize that an object (like a breast) is part of another whole person (because it doesn't have any concept yet of "whole person"). There's no distinction between it and anyone or anything else; there are only needs and things that satisfy those needs.
This is the state of "nature," which has to be broken up in order for culture to be formed. This is true in both Freud's psychoanalysis and in Lacan's: the infant must separate from its mother, form a separate identity, in order to enter into civilization. That separation entails some kind of LOSS; when the child knows the difference between itself and its mother, and starts to become an individuated being, it loses that primal sense of unity (and safety/security) that it originally had. This is the element of the tragic built into psychoanalytic theory (whether Freudian or Lacanian): to become a civilized "adult" always entails the profound loss of an original unity, a non-differentiation, a merging with others (particularly the mother).
Jacques Lacan
In his discussion of the absolute division between the unconscious and the consciousness (or between id and ego), Freud introduces the idea of the human self, or subject, as radically split, divided between these two realms of conscious and unconscious. On the one hand, our usual (Western humanist) ideas of self or personhood are defined by operations of consciousness, including rationality, free will, and self-reflection. For Freud and for psychoanalysis in general, however, actions, thought, belief, and the concepts of "self" are all determined or shaped by the unconscious, and its drives and desires.
Jacques Lacan is a French psychoanalyst. He was originally trained as a psychiatrist, and in the 1930s and 40s worked with psychotic patients; he began in the 1950s to develop his own version of psychoanalysis, based on the ideas articulated in structuralist linguistics and anthropology. You might think of Lacan as Freud + Saussure, with a dash of Levi-Strauss, and even some seasoning of Derrida. But his main influence/precursor is Freud. Lacan reinterprets Freud in light of structuralist and post-structuralist theories, turning psychoanalysis from an essentially humanist philosophy or theory into a post-structuralist one.
One of the basic premises of humanism, as you recall, is that there is such a thing as a stable self, that has all those nice things like free will and self-determination. Freud's notion of the unconscious was one of the ideas that began to question, or to destabilize, that humanist ideal of the self; he was one of the precursors of post-structuralism in that regard. But Freud hoped that, by bringing the contents of the unconscious into consciousness, he could minimize repression and neurosis--he makes a famous declaration about the relation between the unconscious and conscious, saying that "Wo Es war, soll Ich werden": Where It was, shall I be." In other words, the "it," or "id" (unconscious) will be replaced by the "I", by consciousness and self-identity. Freud's goal was to strengthen the ego, the "I" self, the conscious/rational identity, so it would be more powerful than the unconscious.
For Lacan, this project is impossible. The ego can never take the place of the unconscious, or empty it out, or control it, because, for Lacan, the ego or "I" self is only an illusion, a product of the unconscious itself. In Lacanian psychoanalysis, the unconscious is the ground of all being.
Where Freud is interested in investigating how the polymorphously perverse child forms an unconscious and a superego and becomes a civilized and productive (as well as correctly heterosexual) adult, Lacan is interested in how the infant gets this illusion we call a "self." His essay on the Mirror Stage describes that process, showing how the infant forms an illusion of an ego, of a unified conscious self identified by the word "I."
Central to the conception of the human, in Lacan, is the notion that the unconscious, which governs all factors of human existence, is structured like a language. He bases this on Freud's account of the two main mechanisms of unconscious processes, condensation and displacement. Both are essentially linguistic phenomena, where meaning is either condensed (in metaphor) or displaced (in metonymy). Lacan notes that Freud's dream analyses, and most of his analyses of the unconscious symbolism used by his patients, depend on word-play--on puns, associations, etc. that are chiefly verbal. Lacan says that the contents of the unconscious are acutely aware of language, and particularly of the structure of language.
And here he follows ideas laid out by Saussure, but modifies them a bit. Where Saussure talked about the relations between signifier and signified, which form a sign, and insisted that the structure of language is the negative relation among signs (one sign is what it is because it is not another sign), Lacan focuses on relations between signifiers alone. The elements in the unconscious--wishes, desires, images--all form signifiers (and they're usually expressed in verbal terms), and these signifiers form a "signifying chain"--one signifier has meaning only because it is not some other signifier. For Lacan, there are no signifieds; there is nothing that a signifier ultimately refers to. If there were, then the meaning of any particular signifier would be relatively stable--there would be (in Saussure's terms) a relation of signification between signifier and signified, and that relation would create or guarantee some kind of meaning. Lacan says those relations of signification don't exist (in the unconscious, at least); rather, there are only the negative relations, relations of value, where one signifier is what it is because it's not something else.
Because of this lack of signifieds, Lacan says, the chain of signifiers--x=y=z=b=q=0=%=|=s (etc.)--is constantly sliding and shifting and circulating. There is no anchor, nothing that ultimately gives meaning or stability to the whole system. The chain of signifiers is constantly in play (in Derrida's sense); there's no way to stop sliding down the chain--no way to say "oh, x means this," and have it be definitive. Rather, one signifier only leads to another signifier, and never to a signified. It's kind of like a dictionary--one word only leads you to more words, but never to the things the words supposedly represent.
Lacan says this is what the unconscious looks like--a continually circulating chain (or multiple chains) of signifiers, with no anchor--or, to use Derrida's terms, no center. This is Lacan's linguistic translation of Freud's picture of the unconscious as this chaotic realm of constantly shifting drives and desires. Freud is interested in how to bring those chaotic drives and desires into consciousness, so that they can have some order and sense and meaning, so they can be understood and made manageable. Lacan, on the other hand, says that the process of becoming an adult, a "self," is the process of trying to fix, to stabilize, to stop the chain of signifiers so that stable meaning--including the meaning of "I"--becomes possible. Though of course Lacan says that this possibility is only an illusion, an image created by a misperception of the relation between body and self.
But I'm getting too far ahead of where we're going.
Freud talks about the 3 stages of polymorphous perversity in infants: the oral, the anal, and the phallic; it's the Oedipus complex and Castration complex that end polymorphous perversity and create "adult" beings. Lacan creates different categories to explain a similar trajectory, from infant to "adult." He talks about 3 concepts--need, demand, and desire--that roughly correspond to 3 phases of development, or 3 fields in which humans develop--the Real, the Imaginary, and the Symbolic. The Symbolic realm, which is marked by the concept of desire (I'll explain this in more detail later) is the equivalent of adulthood; or, more specifically for Lacan, the Symbolic realm is the structure of language itself, which we have to enter into in order to become speaking subjects, in order to say "I" and have "I" designate something which appears to be stable.
Like Freud, Lacan's infant starts out as something inseparable from its mother; there's no distinction between self and other, between baby and mother (at least, from the baby's perspective). In fact, the baby (for both Freud and Lacan) is a kind of blob, with no sense of self or individuated identity, and no sense even of its body as a coherent unified whole. This baby-blob is driven by NEED; it needs food, it needs comfort/safety, it needs to be changed, etc. These needs are satisfiable, and can be satisfied by an object. When the baby needs food, it gets a breast (or a bottle); when it needs safety, it gets hugged. The baby, in this state of NEED, doesn't recognize any distinction between itself and the objects that meet its needs; it doesn't recognize that an object (like a breast) is part of another whole person (because it doesn't have any concept yet of "whole person"). There's no distinction between it and anyone or anything else; there are only needs and things that satisfy those needs.
This is the state of "nature," which has to be broken up in order for culture to be formed. This is true in both Freud's psychoanalysis and in Lacan's: the infant must separate from its mother, form a separate identity, in order to enter into civilization. That separation entails some kind of LOSS; when the child knows the difference between itself and its mother, and starts to become an individuated being, it loses that primal sense of unity (and safety/security) that it originally had. This is the element of the tragic built into psychoanalytic theory (whether Freudian or Lacanian): to become a civilized "adult" always entails the profound loss of an original unity, a non-differentiation, a merging with others (particularly the mother).
The baby who has not yet made this separation, who has only needs which are satisfiable, and which makes no distinction between itself and the objects that satisfy its needs, exists in the realm of the REAL, according to Lacan. The Real is a place (a psychic place, not a physical place) where there is this original unity. Because of that, there is no absence or loss or lack; the Real is all fullness and completeness, where there's no need that can't be satisfied. And because there is no absence or loss or lack, there is no language in the Real.
Let me back up a bit to explain that. Lacan here follows an argument Freud made about the idea of loss. In a case study known as "Little Hans," (which appears in Freud's Beyond the Pleasure Principle), Freud talks about his nephew, aged about 18 months, who is playing a game with a spool tied with yarn. The kid (Hans) throws the spool away, and says "Fort," which is German for "gone." He pulls the spool back in, and says "Da," which is German for "here." Freud says that this game was symbolic for Little Hans, a way of working out his anxiety about his mother's absence. When he threw the spool and said "Fort," he replayed the experience of the loss of a beloved object; when he reeled it in and said "Da," he got pleasure from the restoration of the object.
Lacan takes this case and focuses, of course, on the aspect of language it displays. Lacan says that the fort/da game, which Freud said happened when Hans was about 18 months old, is about Hans' entry into the Symbolic, or into the structure of language itself. Lacan says that language is always about loss or absence; you only need words when the object you want is gone. If your world was all fullness, with no absence, then you wouldn't need language. (Jonathan Swift, in Gulliver's Travels, has a version of this: a culture where there is no language, and people carry all the objects they need to refer to on their backs).
Thus in the realm of the Real, according to Lacan, there is no language because there is no loss, no lack, no absence; there is only complete fullness, needs and the satisfaction of needs. Hence the Real is always beyond language, unrepresentable in language (and therefore irretrievably lost when one enters into language).
The Real, and the phase of need, last from birth till somewhere between 6 and 18 months, when the baby blob starts to be able to distinguish between its body and everything else in the world. At this point, the baby shifts from having needs to having DEMANDS. Demands are not satisfiable with objects; a demand is always a demand for recognition from another, for love from another. The process works like this: the baby starts to become aware that it is separate from the mother, and that there exist things that are not part of it; thus the idea of "other" is created. (Note, however, that as yet the binary opposition of "self/other" doesn't yet exist, because the baby still doesn't have a coherent sense of "self"). That awareness of separation, or the fact of otherness, creates an anxiety, a sense of loss. The baby then demands a reunion, a return to that original sense of fullness and non-separation that it had in the Real. But that is impossible, once the baby knows (and this knowing, remember, is all happening on an unconscious level) that the idea of an "other" exists. The baby demands to be filled by the other, to return to the sense of original unity; the baby wants the idea of "other" to disappear. Demand is thus the demand for the fullness, the completeness, of the other that will stop up the lack the baby is experiencing. But of course this is impossible, because that lack, or absence, the sense of "other"ness, is the condition for the baby becoming a self/subject, a functioning cultural being.
Because the demand is for recognition from the other, it can't really be satisfied, if only because the 6(c)18 month infant can't SAY what it wants. The baby cries, and the mother gives it a bottle, or a breast, or a pacifier, or something, but no object can satisfy the demand--the demand is for a response on a different level. The baby can't recognize the ways the mother does respond to it, and recognize it, because it doesn't yet have a conception of itself as a thing--it only knows that this idea of "other" exists, and that it is separate from the "other", but it doesn't yet have an idea of what its "self" is.
This is where Lacan's MIRROR STAGE happens. At this age--between 6 and 18 months--the baby or child hasn't yet mastered its own body; it doesn't have control over its own movements, and it doesn't have a sense of its body as a whole. Rather, the baby experiences its body as fragmented, or in pieces--whatever part is within its field of vision is there as long as the baby can see it, but gone when the baby can't see it. It may see its own hand, but it doesn't know that that hand belongs to it--the hand could belong to anyone, or no one. However, the child in this stage can imagine itself as whole--because it has seen other people, and perceived them as whole beings.
Lacan says that at some point in this period, the baby will see itself in a mirror. It will look at its reflection, then look back at a real person--its mother, or some other person--then look again at the mirror image. The child moves "from insufficiency to anticipation" in this action; the mirror, and the moving back and forth from mirror image to other people, gives it a sense that it, too, is an integrated being, a whole person. The child, still unable to be whole, and hence separate from others (though it has this notion of separation), in the mirror stage begins to anticipate being whole. It moves from a "fragmented body" to an "orthopedic vision of its totality", to a vision of itself as whole and integrated, which is "orthopedic" because it serves as a crutch, a corrective instrument, an aid to help the child achieve the status of wholeness.
What the child anticipates is a sense of self as a unified separate whole; the child sees that it looks like what "others" look like. Eventually, this entity the child sees in the mirror, this whole being, will be a "self," the entity designated by the word "I." What is really happening, however, is an identification that is a MISRECOGNITION. The child sees an image in the mirror; it thinks, that image is "ME". But it's NOT the child; it's only an image. But another person (usually the mother) is there to reinforce the misrecognition. The baby looks in the mirror, and looks back at mother, and the mother says, "Yes, it's you!" She guarantees the "reality" of the connection between the child and its image, and the idea of the integrated whole body the child is seeing and identifying with.
The child takes that image in the mirror as the summation of its entire being, its "self." This process, of misrecognizing one's self in the image in the mirror, creates the EGO, the thing that says "I." In Lacan's terms, this misrecognition creates the "armor" of the subject, an illusion or misperception of wholeness, integration, and totality that surrounds and protects the fragmented body. To Lacan, ego, or self, or "I"dentity, is always on some level a FANTASY, an identification with an external image, and not an internal sense of separate whole identity.
This is why Lacan calls the phase of demand, and the mirror stage, the realm of the IMAGINARY. The idea of a self is created through an Imaginary identification with the image in the mirror. The realm of the Imaginary is where the alienated relation of self to its own image is created and maintained. The Imaginary is a realm of images, whether conscious or unconscious. It's prelinguistic, and preoedipal, but very much based in visual perception, or what Lacan calls specular imaging.
The mirror image, the whole person the baby mistakes as itself, is known in psychoanalytic terminology as an "ideal ego," a perfect whole self who has no insufficiency. This "ideal ego" becomes internalized; we build our sense of "self," our "I"dentity, by (mis)identifying with this ideal ego. By doing this, according to Lacan, we imagine a self that has no lack, no notion of absence or incompleteness. The fiction of the stable, whole, unified self that we see in the mirror becomes a compensation for having lost the original oneness with the mother's body. In short, according to Lacan, we lose our unity with the mother's body, the state of "nature," in order to enter culture, but we protect ourselves from the knowledge of that loss by misperceiving ourselves as not lacking anything--as being complete unto ourselves.
Lacan says that the child's self-concept (its ego or "I"dentity) will never match up to its own being. Its IMAGO in the mirror is both smaller and more stable than the child, and is always "other" than the child--something outside it. The child, for the rest of its life, will misrecognize its self as "other, as the image in the mirror that provides an illusion of self and of mastery.
The Imaginary is the psychic place, or phase, where the child projects its ideas of "self" onto the mirror image it sees. The mirror stage cements a self/other dichotomy, where previously the child had known only "other," but not "self." For Lacan, the identification of "self" is always in terms of "other." This is not the same as a binary opposition, where "self"= what is not "other," and "other" = what is not "self." Rather, "self" IS "other", in Lacan's view; the idea of the self, that inner being we designate by "I," is based on an image, an other. The concept of self relies on one's misidentification with this image of an other.
Lacan uses the term "other" in a number of ways, which make it even harder to grasp. First, and perhaps the easiest, is in the sense of self/other, where "other" is the "not-me;" but, as we have seen, the "other" becomes "me" in the mirror stage. Lacan also uses an idea of Other, with a capital "o", to distinguish between the concept of the other and actual others. The image the child sees in the mirror is an other, and it gives the child the idea of Other as a structural possibility, one which makes possible the structural possibility of "I" or self. In other words, the child encounters actual others--its own image, other people--and understands the idea of "Otherness," things that are not itself. According to Lacan, the notion of Otherness, encountered in the Imaginary phase (and associated with demand), comes before the sense of "self," which is built on the idea of Otherness.
When the child has formulated some idea of Otherness, and of a self identified with its own "other," its own mirror image, then the child begins to enter the Symbolic realm. The Symbolic and the Imaginary are overlapping, unlike Freud's phases of development; there's no clear marker or division between the two, and in some respects they always coexist. The Symbolic order is the structure of language itself; we have to enter it in order to become speaking subjects, and to designate ourselves by "I." The foundation for having a self lies in the Imaginary projection of the self onto the specular image, the other in the mirror, and having a self is expressed in saying "I," which can only occur within the Symbolic, which is why the two coexist.
The fort/da game that Little Hans played, in Freud's account, is in Lacan's view a marker of the entry into the Symbolic, because Hans is using language to negotiate the idea of absence and the idea of Otherness as a category or structural possibility. The spool, according to Lacan, serves as an "objet petit a," or "objet petit autre"--an object which is a little "other," a small-o other. In throwing it away, the child recognizes that others can disappear; in pulling it back, the child recognizes that others can return. Lacan emphasizes the former, insisting that Little Hans is primarily concerned with the idea of lack or absence of the "objet petit autre."
The "little other" illustrates for the child the idea of lack, of loss, of absence, showing the child that it isn't complete in and of itself. It is also the gateway to the Symbolic order, to language, since language itself is premised on the idea of lack or absence.
Lacan says these ideas--of other and Other, of lack and absence, of the (mis)identification of self with o/Other--are all worked out on an individual level, with each child, but they form the basic structures of the Symbolic order, of language, which the child must enter in order to become an adult member of culture. Thus the otherness acted out in the fort/da game (as well as by the distinctions made in the Mirror Phase between self and other, mother and child) become categorical or structural ideas. So, in the Symbolic, there is a structure (or structuring principle) of Otherness, and a structuring principle of Lack.
The Other (capital O) is a structural position in the Symbolic order. It is the place that everyone is trying to get to, to merge with, in order to get rid of the separation between "self" and "other." It is, in Derrida's sense, the CENTER of the system, of the Symbolic and/or of language itself. As such, the Other is the thing to which every element relates. But, as the center, the Other (again, not a person but a position) can't be merged with. Nothing can be in the center with the Other, even though everything in the system (people, e.g.) want to be. So the position of the Other creates and sustains a never-ending LACK, which Lacan calls DESIRE. Desire is the desire to be the Other. By definition, desire can never be fulfilled: it's not desire for some object (which would be need) or desire for love or another person's recognition of oneself (which would be demand), but desire to be the center of the system, the center of the Symbolic, the center of language itself.
The center has a lot of names in Lacanian theory. It's the Other; it's also called the PHALLUS. Here's where Lacan borrows again from Freud's original Oedipus theory.
The mirror stage is pre-oedipal. The self is constructed in relation to an other, to the idea of Other, and the self wants to merge with the Other. As in Freud's world, the most important other in the child's life is the mother; so the child wants to merge with its mother. In Lacan's terms, this is the child's demand that the self/other split be erased. The child decides that it can merge with the mother if it becomes what the mother wants it to be--in Lacan's terms, the child tries to fulfill the mother's desire. The mother's desire (formed by her own entry into the Symbolic, because she is already an adult) is to not have lack, or Lack (or to be the Other, the center, the place where nothing is lacking). This fits with the Freudian version of the Oedipus complex, where the child wants to merge with its mother by having sexual intercourse with her. In Freud's model, the idea of lack is represented by the lack of a penis. The boy who wants to sleep with his mother wants to complete her lack by filling her up with his penis.
In Freud's view, what breaks this oedipal desire up, for boys anyway, is the father, who threatens castration. The father threatens to make the boy experience lack, the absence of the penis, if he tries to use his penis to make up for the mother's lack of a penis. In Lacan's terms, the threat of castration is a metaphor for the whole idea of Lack as a structural concept. For Lacan, it isn't the real father who threatens castration. Rather, because the idea of lack, or Lack, is essential to the concept of language, because the concept of Lack is part of the basic structuration of language, the father becomes a function of the linguistic structure. The Father, rather than being a person, becomes a structuring principle of the Symbolic order.
For Lacan, Freud's angry father becomes the Name-of-the-Father, or the Law-of-the-Father, or sometimes just the Law. Submission to the rules of language itself--the Law of the Father--is required in order to enter into the Symbolic order. To become a speaking subject, you have to be subjected to, you have to obey, the laws and rules of language. Lacan designates the idea of the structure of language, and its rules, as specifically paternal. He calls the rules of language the Law-of-the-Father in order to link the entry into the Symbolic, the structure of language, to Freud's notion of the oedipus and castration complexes.
The Law-of-the-Father, or Name-of-the-Father, is another term for the Other, for the center of the system, the thing that governs the whole structure--its shape and how all the elements in the system can move and form relationships. This center is also called the PHALLUS, to underline even more the patriarchal nature of the Symbolic order. The Phallus, as center, limits the play of elements, and gives stability to the whole structure. The Phallus anchors the chains of signifiers which, in the unconscious, are just floating and unfixed, always sliding and shifting. The Phallus stops play, so that signifiers can have some stable meaning. It is because the Phallus is the center of the Symbolic order, of language, that the term "I" designates the idea of the self (and, additionally, why any other word has stable meaning).
The Phallus is not the same as the penis. Penises belong to individuals; the Phallus belongs to the structure of language itself. No one has it, just like no one governs language or rules language. Rather, the Phallus is the center. It governs the whole structure, it's what everyone wants to be (or have), but no one can get there (no element of the system can take the place of the center). That's what Lacan calls DESIRE: the desire, which is never satisfied, because it can never be satisfied, to be the center, to rule the system.
Lacan says that boys can think they have a shot at being the Phallus, at occupying the position of center, because they have penises. Girls have a harder time misperceiving themselves as having a shot at the Phallus because they are (as Freud says) constituted by and as lack, lacking a penis, and the Phallus is a place where there is no lack. But, Lacan says, every subject in language is constituted by/as lack, or Lack. The only reason we have language at all is because of the loss, or lack, of the union with the maternal body. In fact, it is the necessity to become part of "culture," to become subjects in language, that forces that absence, loss, lack.
The distinction between the sexes is significant in Lacan's theory, though not in the same way it is in Freud's. This is what Lacan talks about in "The Agency of the Letter in the Unconscious," on p. 741. He has two drawings there. One is of the word "Tree" over a picture of a tree--the basic Saussurean concept, of signifier (word) over signified (object). Then he has another drawing, of two identical doors (the signifieds). But over each door is a different word: one says "Ladies" and the other says "Gentlemen." Lacan explains, on p. 742:
"A train arrives at a station. A little boy and a little girl, brother and sister, are seated in a compartment face to face next to the window through which the buildings along the station platform can be seen passing as the train pulls to a stop. 'Look,' says the brother, 'We're at Ladies!' 'Idiot!' replies his sister, 'Can't you see we're at Gentlemen.'"
This anecdote shows how boys and girls enter the Symbolic order, the structure of language, differently. In Lacan's view, each child can only see the signifier of the other gender; each child constructs its world view, its understanding of the relation between sfr and sfd in naming locations, as the consequence of seeing an "other." As Lacan puts it (742), "For these children, Ladies and Gentlemen will be henceforth two countries toward which each of their souls will strive on divergent wings..." Each child, each sex, has a particular position within the Symbolic order; from that position, each sex can only see (or signify) the otherness of the other sex. You might take Lacan's drawing of the two doors literally: these are the doors, with their gender distinctions, through which each child must pass in order to enter into the Symbolic realm.
So, to summarize. Lacan's theory starts with the idea of the Real; this is the union with the mother's body, which is a state of nature, and must be broken up in order to build culture. Once you move out of the Real, you can never get back, but you always want to. This is the first idea of an irretrievable loss or lack.
Next comes the Mirror stage, which constitutes the Imaginary. Here you grasp the idea of others, and begin to understand Otherness as a concept or a structuring principle, and thus begin to formulate a notion of "self". This "self" (as seen in the mirror) is in fact an other, but you misrecognize it as you, and call it "self." (Or, in non-theory language, you look in the mirror and say "hey, that's me." But it's not--it's just an image).
This sense of self, and its relation to others and to Other, sets you up to take up a position in the Symbolic order, in language. Such a position allows you to say "I", to be a speaking subject. "I" (and all other words) have a stable meaning because they are fixed, or anchored, by the Other/Phallus/Name-of-the-Father/Law, which is the center of the Symbolic, the center of language.
In taking up a position in the Symbolic, you enter through a gender-marked doorway; the position for girls is different than the position for boys. Boys are closer to the Phallus than girls, but no one is or has the Phallus--it's the center. Your position in the Symbolic, like the position of all other signifying elements (signifiers) is fixed by the Phallus; unlike the unconscious, the chains of signifiers in the Symbolic don't circulate and slide endlessly because the Phallus limits play.
Paradoxically--as if all this wasn't bad enough!--the Phallus and the Real are pretty similar. Both are places where things are whole, complete, full, unified, where there's no lack, or Lack. Both are places that are inaccessible to the human subject-in-language. But they are also opposite: the Real is the maternal, the ground from which we spring, the nature we have to separate from in order to have culture; the Phallus is the idea of the Father, the patriarchal order of culture, the ultimate idea of culture, the position which rules everything in the world.
As you might imagine, feminist critics, whom we'll start talking about on Wednesday, have a lot to say about Lacan, as they do about Freud. 
Last revision: October 8, 1997
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The baby who has not yet made this separation, who has only needs which are satisfiable, and which makes no distinction between itself and the objects that satisfy its needs, exists in the realm of the REAL, according to Lacan. The Real is a place (a psychic place, not a physical place) where there is this original unity. Because of that, there is no absence or loss or lack; the Real is all fullness and completeness, where there's no need that can't be satisfied. And because there is no absence or loss or lack, there is no language in the Real.
Let me back up a bit to explain that. Lacan here follows an argument Freud made about the idea of loss. In a case study known as "Little Hans," (which appears in Freud's Beyond the Pleasure Principle), Freud talks about his nephew, aged about 18 months, who is playing a game with a spool tied with yarn. The kid (Hans) throws the spool away, and says "Fort," which is German for "gone." He pulls the spool back in, and says "Da," which is German for "here." Freud says that this game was symbolic for Little Hans, a way of working out his anxiety about his mother's absence. When he threw the spool and said "Fort," he replayed the experience of the loss of a beloved object; when he reeled it in and said "Da," he got pleasure from the restoration of the object.
Lacan takes this case and focuses, of course, on the aspect of language it displays. Lacan says that the fort/da game, which Freud said happened when Hans was about 18 months old, is about Hans' entry into the Symbolic, or into the structure of language itself. Lacan says that language is always about loss or absence; you only need words when the object you want is gone. If your world was all fullness, with no absence, then you wouldn't need language. (Jonathan Swift, in Gulliver's Travels, has a version of this: a culture where there is no language, and people carry all the objects they need to refer to on their backs).
Thus in the realm of the Real, according to Lacan, there is no language because there is no loss, no lack, no absence; there is only complete fullness, needs and the satisfaction of needs. Hence the Real is always beyond language, unrepresentable in language (and therefore irretrievably lost when one enters into language).
The Real, and the phase of need, last from birth till somewhere between 6 and 18 months, when the baby blob starts to be able to distinguish between its body and everything else in the world. At this point, the baby shifts from having needs to having DEMANDS. Demands are not satisfiable with objects; a demand is always a demand for recognition from another, for love from another. The process works like this: the baby starts to become aware that it is separate from the mother, and that there exist things that are not part of it; thus the idea of "other" is created. (Note, however, that as yet the binary opposition of "self/other" doesn't yet exist, because the baby still doesn't have a coherent sense of "self"). That awareness of separation, or the fact of otherness, creates an anxiety, a sense of loss. The baby then demands a reunion, a return to that original sense of fullness and non-separation that it had in the Real. But that is impossible, once the baby knows (and this knowing, remember, is all happening on an unconscious level) that the idea of an "other" exists. The baby demands to be filled by the other, to return to the sense of original unity; the baby wants the idea of "other" to disappear. Demand is thus the demand for the fullness, the completeness, of the other that will stop up the lack the baby is experiencing. But of course this is impossible, because that lack, or absence, the sense of "other"ness, is the condition for the baby becoming a self/subject, a functioning cultural being.
Because the demand is for recognition from the other, it can't really be satisfied, if only because the 6(c)18 month infant can't SAY what it wants. The baby cries, and the mother gives it a bottle, or a breast, or a pacifier, or something, but no object can satisfy the demand--the demand is for a response on a different level. The baby can't recognize the ways the mother does respond to it, and recognize it, because it doesn't yet have a conception of itself as a thing--it only knows that this idea of "other" exists, and that it is separate from the "other", but it doesn't yet have an idea of what its "self" is.
This is where Lacan's MIRROR STAGE happens. At this age--between 6 and 18 months--the baby or child hasn't yet mastered its own body; it doesn't have control over its own movements, and it doesn't have a sense of its body as a whole. Rather, the baby experiences its body as fragmented, or in pieces--whatever part is within its field of vision is there as long as the baby can see it, but gone when the baby can't see it. It may see its own hand, but it doesn't know that that hand belongs to it--the hand could belong to anyone, or no one. However, the child in this stage can imagine itself as whole--because it has seen other people, and perceived them as whole beings.
Lacan says that at some point in this period, the baby will see itself in a mirror. It will look at its reflection, then look back at a real person--its mother, or some other person--then look again at the mirror image. The child moves "from insufficiency to anticipation" in this action; the mirror, and the moving back and forth from mirror image to other people, gives it a sense that it, too, is an integrated being, a whole person. The child, still unable to be whole, and hence separate from others (though it has this notion of separation), in the mirror stage begins to anticipate being whole. It moves from a "fragmented body" to an "orthopedic vision of its totality", to a vision of itself as whole and integrated, which is "orthopedic" because it serves as a crutch, a corrective instrument, an aid to help the child achieve the status of wholeness.
What the child anticipates is a sense of self as a unified separate whole; the child sees that it looks like what "others" look like. Eventually, this entity the child sees in the mirror, this whole being, will be a "self," the entity designated by the word "I." What is really happening, however, is an identification that is a MISRECOGNITION. The child sees an image in the mirror; it thinks, that image is "ME". But it's NOT the child; it's only an image. But another person (usually the mother) is there to reinforce the misrecognition. The baby looks in the mirror, and looks back at mother, and the mother says, "Yes, it's you!" She guarantees the "reality" of the connection between the child and its image, and the idea of the integrated whole body the child is seeing and identifying with.
The child takes that image in the mirror as the summation of its entire being, its "self." This process, of misrecognizing one's self in the image in the mirror, creates the EGO, the thing that says "I." In Lacan's terms, this misrecognition creates the "armor" of the subject, an illusion or misperception of wholeness, integration, and totality that surrounds and protects the fragmented body. To Lacan, ego, or self, or "I"dentity, is always on some level a FANTASY, an identification with an external image, and not an internal sense of separate whole identity.
This is why Lacan calls the phase of demand, and the mirror stage, the realm of the IMAGINARY. The idea of a self is created through an Imaginary identification with the image in the mirror. The realm of the Imaginary is where the alienated relation of self to its own image is created and maintained. The Imaginary is a realm of images, whether conscious or unconscious. It's prelinguistic, and preoedipal, but very much based in visual perception, or what Lacan calls specular imaging.
The mirror image, the whole person the baby mistakes as itself, is known in psychoanalytic terminology as an "ideal ego," a perfect whole self who has no insufficiency. This "ideal ego" becomes internalized; we build our sense of "self," our "I"dentity, by (mis)identifying with this ideal ego. By doing this, according to Lacan, we imagine a self that has no lack, no notion of absence or incompleteness. The fiction of the stable, whole, unified self that we see in the mirror becomes a compensation for having lost the original oneness with the mother's body. In short, according to Lacan, we lose our unity with the mother's body, the state of "nature," in order to enter culture, but we protect ourselves from the knowledge of that loss by misperceiving ourselves as not lacking anything--as being complete unto ourselves.
Lacan says that the child's self-concept (its ego or "I"dentity) will never match up to its own being. Its IMAGO in the mirror is both smaller and more stable than the child, and is always "other" than the child--something outside it. The child, for the rest of its life, will misrecognize its self as "other, as the image in the mirror that provides an illusion of self and of mastery.
The Imaginary is the psychic place, or phase, where the child projects its ideas of "self" onto the mirror image it sees. The mirror stage cements a self/other dichotomy, where previously the child had known only "other," but not "self." For Lacan, the identification of "self" is always in terms of "other." This is not the same as a binary opposition, where "self"= what is not "other," and "other" = what is not "self." Rather, "self" IS "other", in Lacan's view; the idea of the self, that inner being we designate by "I," is based on an image, an other. The concept of self relies on one's misidentification with this image of an other.
Lacan uses the term "other" in a number of ways, which make it even harder to grasp. First, and perhaps the easiest, is in the sense of self/other, where "other" is the "not-me;" but, as we have seen, the "other" becomes "me" in the mirror stage. Lacan also uses an idea of Other, with a capital "o", to distinguish between the concept of the other and actual others. The image the child sees in the mirror is an other, and it gives the child the idea of Other as a structural possibility, one which makes possible the structural possibility of "I" or self. In other words, the child encounters actual others--its own image, other people--and understands the idea of "Otherness," things that are not itself. According to Lacan, the notion of Otherness, encountered in the Imaginary phase (and associated with demand), comes before the sense of "self," which is built on the idea of Otherness.
When the child has formulated some idea of Otherness, and of a self identified with its own "other," its own mirror image, then the child begins to enter the Symbolic realm. The Symbolic and the Imaginary are overlapping, unlike Freud's phases of development; there's no clear marker or division between the two, and in some respects they always coexist. The Symbolic order is the structure of language itself; we have to enter it in order to become speaking subjects, and to designate ourselves by "I." The foundation for having a self lies in the Imaginary projection of the self onto the specular image, the other in the mirror, and having a self is expressed in saying "I," which can only occur within the Symbolic, which is why the two coexist.
The fort/da game that Little Hans played, in Freud's account, is in Lacan's view a marker of the entry into the Symbolic, because Hans is using language to negotiate the idea of absence and the idea of Otherness as a category or structural possibility. The spool, according to Lacan, serves as an "objet petit a," or "objet petit autre"--an object which is a little "other," a small-o other. In throwing it away, the child recognizes that others can disappear; in pulling it back, the child recognizes that others can return. Lacan emphasizes the former, insisting that Little Hans is primarily concerned with the idea of lack or absence of the "objet petit autre."
The "little other" illustrates for the child the idea of lack, of loss, of absence, showing the child that it isn't complete in and of itself. It is also the gateway to the Symbolic order, to language, since language itself is premised on the idea of lack or absence.
Lacan says these ideas--of other and Other, of lack and absence, of the (mis)identification of self with o/Other--are all worked out on an individual level, with each child, but they form the basic structures of the Symbolic order, of language, which the child must enter in order to become an adult member of culture. Thus the otherness acted out in the fort/da game (as well as by the distinctions made in the Mirror Phase between self and other, mother and child) become categorical or structural ideas. So, in the Symbolic, there is a structure (or structuring principle) of Otherness, and a structuring principle of Lack.
The Other (capital O) is a structural position in the Symbolic order. It is the place that everyone is trying to get to, to merge with, in order to get rid of the separation between "self" and "other." It is, in Derrida's sense, the CENTER of the system, of the Symbolic and/or of language itself. As such, the Other is the thing to which every element relates. But, as the center, the Other (again, not a person but a position) can't be merged with. Nothing can be in the center with the Other, even though everything in the system (people, e.g.) want to be. So the position of the Other creates and sustains a never-ending LACK, which Lacan calls DESIRE. Desire is the desire to be the Other. By definition, desire can never be fulfilled: it's not desire for some object (which would be need) or desire for love or another person's recognition of oneself (which would be demand), but desire to be the center of the system, the center of the Symbolic, the center of language itself.
The center has a lot of names in Lacanian theory. It's the Other; it's also called the PHALLUS. Here's where Lacan borrows again from Freud's original Oedipus theory.
The mirror stage is pre-oedipal. The self is constructed in relation to an other, to the idea of Other, and the self wants to merge with the Other. As in Freud's world, the most important other in the child's life is the mother; so the child wants to merge with its mother. In Lacan's terms, this is the child's demand that the self/other split be erased. The child decides that it can merge with the mother if it becomes what the mother wants it to be--in Lacan's terms, the child tries to fulfill the mother's desire. The mother's desire (formed by her own entry into the Symbolic, because she is already an adult) is to not have lack, or Lack (or to be the Other, the center, the place where nothing is lacking). This fits with the Freudian version of the Oedipus complex, where the child wants to merge with its mother by having sexual intercourse with her. In Freud's model, the idea of lack is represented by the lack of a penis. The boy who wants to sleep with his mother wants to complete her lack by filling her up with his penis.
In Freud's view, what breaks this oedipal desire up, for boys anyway, is the father, who threatens castration. The father threatens to make the boy experience lack, the absence of the penis, if he tries to use his penis to make up for the mother's lack of a penis. In Lacan's terms, the threat of castration is a metaphor for the whole idea of Lack as a structural concept. For Lacan, it isn't the real father who threatens castration. Rather, because the idea of lack, or Lack, is essential to the concept of language, because the concept of Lack is part of the basic structuration of language, the father becomes a function of the linguistic structure. The Father, rather than being a person, becomes a structuring principle of the Symbolic order.
For Lacan, Freud's angry father becomes the Name-of-the-Father, or the Law-of-the-Father, or sometimes just the Law. Submission to the rules of language itself--the Law of the Father--is required in order to enter into the Symbolic order. To become a speaking subject, you have to be subjected to, you have to obey, the laws and rules of language. Lacan designates the idea of the structure of language, and its rules, as specifically paternal. He calls the rules of language the Law-of-the-Father in order to link the entry into the Symbolic, the structure of language, to Freud's notion of the oedipus and castration complexes.
The Law-of-the-Father, or Name-of-the-Father, is another term for the Other, for the center of the system, the thing that governs the whole structure--its shape and how all the elements in the system can move and form relationships. This center is also called the PHALLUS, to underline even more the patriarchal nature of the Symbolic order. The Phallus, as center, limits the play of elements, and gives stability to the whole structure. The Phallus anchors the chains of signifiers which, in the unconscious, are just floating and unfixed, always sliding and shifting. The Phallus stops play, so that signifiers can have some stable meaning. It is because the Phallus is the center of the Symbolic order, of language, that the term "I" designates the idea of the self (and, additionally, why any other word has stable meaning).
The Phallus is not the same as the penis. Penises belong to individuals; the Phallus belongs to the structure of language itself. No one has it, just like no one governs language or rules language. Rather, the Phallus is the center. It governs the whole structure, it's what everyone wants to be (or have), but no one can get there (no element of the system can take the place of the center). That's what Lacan calls DESIRE: the desire, which is never satisfied, because it can never be satisfied, to be the center, to rule the system.
Lacan says that boys can think they have a shot at being the Phallus, at occupying the position of center, because they have penises. Girls have a harder time misperceiving themselves as having a shot at the Phallus because they are (as Freud says) constituted by and as lack, lacking a penis, and the Phallus is a place where there is no lack. But, Lacan says, every subject in language is constituted by/as lack, or Lack. The only reason we have language at all is because of the loss, or lack, of the union with the maternal body. In fact, it is the necessity to become part of "culture," to become subjects in language, that forces that absence, loss, lack.
The distinction between the sexes is significant in Lacan's theory, though not in the same way it is in Freud's. This is what Lacan talks about in "The Agency of the Letter in the Unconscious," on p. 741. He has two drawings there. One is of the word "Tree" over a picture of a tree--the basic Saussurean concept, of signifier (word) over signified (object). Then he has another drawing, of two identical doors (the signifieds). But over each door is a different word: one says "Ladies" and the other says "Gentlemen." Lacan explains, on p. 742:
"A train arrives at a station. A little boy and a little girl, brother and sister, are seated in a compartment face to face next to the window through which the buildings along the station platform can be seen passing as the train pulls to a stop. 'Look,' says the brother, 'We're at Ladies!' 'Idiot!' replies his sister, 'Can't you see we're at Gentlemen.'"
This anecdote shows how boys and girls enter the Symbolic order, the structure of language, differently. In Lacan's view, each child can only see the signifier of the other gender; each child constructs its world view, its understanding of the relation between sfr and sfd in naming locations, as the consequence of seeing an "other." As Lacan puts it (742), "For these children, Ladies and Gentlemen will be henceforth two countries toward which each of their souls will strive on divergent wings..." Each child, each sex, has a particular position within the Symbolic order; from that position, each sex can only see (or signify) the otherness of the other sex. You might take Lacan's drawing of the two doors literally: these are the doors, with their gender distinctions, through which each child must pass in order to enter into the Symbolic realm.
So, to summarize. Lacan's theory starts with the idea of the Real; this is the union with the mother's body, which is a state of nature, and must be broken up in order to build culture. Once you move out of the Real, you can never get back, but you always want to. This is the first idea of an irretrievable loss or lack.
Next comes the Mirror stage, which constitutes the Imaginary. Here you grasp the idea of others, and begin to understand Otherness as a concept or a structuring principle, and thus begin to formulate a notion of "self". This "self" (as seen in the mirror) is in fact an other, but you misrecognize it as you, and call it "self." (Or, in non-theory language, you look in the mirror and say "hey, that's me." But it's not--it's just an image).
This sense of self, and its relation to others and to Other, sets you up to take up a position in the Symbolic order, in language. Such a position allows you to say "I", to be a speaking subject. "I" (and all other words) have a stable meaning because they are fixed, or anchored, by the Other/Phallus/Name-of-the-Father/Law, which is the center of the Symbolic, the center of language.
In taking up a position in the Symbolic, you enter through a gender-marked doorway; the position for girls is different than the position for boys. Boys are closer to the Phallus than girls, but no one is or has the Phallus--it's the center. Your position in the Symbolic, like the position of all other signifying elements (signifiers) is fixed by the Phallus; unlike the unconscious, the chains of signifiers in the Symbolic don't circulate and slide endlessly because the Phallus limits play.
Paradoxically--as if all this wasn't bad enough!--the Phallus and the Real are pretty similar. Both are places where things are whole, complete, full, unified, where there's no lack, or Lack. Both are places that are inaccessible to the human subject-in-language. But they are also opposite: the Real is the maternal, the ground from which we spring, the nature we have to separate from in order to have culture; the Phallus is the idea of the Father, the patriarchal order of culture, the ultimate idea of culture, the position which rules everything in the world.
As you might imagine, feminist critics, whom we'll start talking about on Wednesday, have a lot to say about Lacan, as they do about Freud. 
Last revision: October 8, 1997
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