brennan transmission affect ch 6

8/18/2019 Brennan Transmission Affect Ch 6

1/17

The Transmission

of ffect

TERESA BRENNAN

CORNJJLL

UNIVERSITY

l llES

ITil C ND LONDON


2/17

Copyright©

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Rddt-ess Col'nell University Press, Sage I-louse,

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First published 2004by Cornell Unlvel'si.ty Press

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Tctesa. Brennan.

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Affect (Puychology)-Social

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Contents

Foreword

vii

1. Introduction

2

The Transmission

ofAffect

in the Clinic 24

3

Transmission in

Groups

51

4.. Tlie New

Paradigm 7

5 The Sealing

of

he

Heart

97

6.

The EducaHon

of

J e

Senses 6

7

Interpreting the Flesh 1. 39

Notes 165

Wark•

Cited

203

Index

217


3/17

C I I P T E R S I X

The Education of the Senses

Paradoxically, feelings are sellsory states produced by thought, while

interrnptive thoughts are produced

by

affects. Feelings are thought

ftll,

and

affects are thoughtless. Feelings are

mea11t

to be informatlon

about

whether

a state is pleasurable

1·

painfol,

whether

one is at

\Tacted to something or averse to it. This is the classic and only basis

for distin guishing feelings

and

affects. Feelings are meant to say, "I

like it, it feels

good

lo me," 01·

I

don't like it

and to

lead to action on

this basis. Jlut if feelings are trncing a logic in the flesh simultan eously

with

a logic in history, this means they feel good because the y are liv

ing. The

good

feeling

of

living and the personal liking

of

the sensa

tions ;hat come

with

it coincide in what is termed "pleasure.''

Jlu.t

only

up

to a point. At that point, the point al which the organism

would have to give up a distinct identity in order to go on feeling, it

w.ill generally choose the forme1· even if it

then

feels

bad.

Thus a man

gives into social pressure

and

chooses vanity (the

need

not to be

ridiculous

in

the eyc'S of others) over happiness. The organiHm makes

a simila1· choice, for in.stance, when it takes a new job

far

from those it

loves because tl1ere is a career advance.

niology,

like Freud, falters

wl1en it

co1nes

to inaldng sense of sometl1ing tl1at

n1akes

no sense for

the living organism, only for the ego.

L:ike

F1•eud,

It

assimilates the

ego drives to t he life drive even when they are opposites (as I have

shown). A real distinction

would

be drawn in terms

of

the difference

between what

is living and what is dead; the bounda1'ies that matter,

and

the only ones that work, are those that shield the organism from

u6

_

dead maller by stmounding it wil11 a field of living attention directed

outward

in a per petual act of love.

In positing that people in the

Weste1'1l

world were once aware of the

transxnission of affect, and that w have been sealed against th1B

l


4/17

form of it, as

we

have seen. But those in analysis, or engaging

in

the

meditation rites that also resurrect the specter of self-detachment, do

not call their opponents

by tl1e

name of

de1nons/'

let alone

p a s ~

sions, or even ''affects.

They

call it the ego/ if they are beit1g ana

Jyzed properly,

and

even

i

they are not.

In the last chapter, I suggested that the ego was nothing more than a

constellation of affects, grouped in clusters of associations (verbal and

visual) around certain S\Jbjective

fa11tasmatic

positions, in turn the re

suit of the subjective standpoint. l lmve also shown

how

the ego, as

the named enemy, appears in the seventeenth

centmy

for Pascal and

the authors of

the

Port-Royal Logic. The argument of this book goes

further, suggesting that

the

ego replaces the affects because

t s

lhe af

fects

in

a mor e solid constellation. These egolc affects have become so

predominant and organized (ht lhe spre ading of the foundational fan

tasy) that we

now

believe them when they tell us, This is me.

If

as

we

supposed

in

chapter

4,

there ls an alternative center for coherence

in

the mind,

fOI

bringing logic

and

reason lo bea r synthetically

on

di

verse information, there s little evidence of its presence. That olher I,

the one

who

once stmggled wit h demons, then fought the passions,

and

now

11egotiatcs with the ego, is less and less i evidence. This is

especially apparent

in

the decline ofreligious practices and civil codes

of courtesy. As

we

noted at the outset, civiland religious codes

may

be

remnants of a conscious knowledge of transmission. In cullmes

whete

knowledge of transmission is unconscious, these codes have

less 1neaning m1d are easily displaced

by

argun1ents tllat

one

sl1ould

be free to express one's feelings. As the stolcally

ii1cli11ed

realized

long since, if freedom means anything, it is freedom from possession

by

the

negative affects. Where such freedom holds sway, lhe otl1er I of

discernment

and

sensation gains a hearing. When possessed by

an

af

fect

with

which we are

unfan1iliar, t

can

seem

entirely reasonable tu

do things that the unposscssed self would reject oul of hand. Such

things are readily mtionalized at the time,

but

afterward the perpelra

tm

marvels

al

how far he forgot himself. This, I think, is what Aristotle

meant when he said t hat lhe doer of evil does not know at the time

that he is doing evil. From the perspective of the affect i11 commanq of

attention at the time, the action is entirely approptiale.

1'he point here,

h o w e v e ~

is that the significance of verbal, enlo-

tional restraint

demanded

by various declining codes is unclear when

the transmission of affect is miaclmowledgccl.

We

have established

HS

Tile

Transmission o Affect

that

when

I judge the othe.r, l simultaneously direct toward her lhat

stream of negative affect that cuts off my feeling of kinship from her

as a fellow living, suffel'ing, joyful creatme. I will expand

on

this no

tion briefly, before moving on. The act of directing negative affects

to

the other severs

my

kin tie

with

her by objectifyi11g

he1·.

I make her

into an object by directing these affects toward her, because that ad

mad


5/17

out the intervention of anxiety ot

othe1·

fixed obstacles in the wny of

the

thinking process.

On

the face of it, any faculty of discemment

must

involve a process

whereby affects pass from the state of sensoty regislrotion to a state of

cognitive

or

intelligent reflection; this does not mean that the process

of ref eclion is

without

affect, just that the affect

is

other than the affect

that is being reflected upon. James shows that this was the case

fO '

Hobbes; nonetheless, reason and passion

or

affect and cognition keep

reappearh1g as bi11aries despite the argun1ents against their separalion

in

practice. Nevertheless, these binaries are attempts

at

approximating

a real

and

necessary distinction between the ego

and

the facully of

discetnmen.t, between the passions and the other I who reflects

11

them. The use of the binaries, in short, may be

an

approximation

o

the

palpable experience of being pulled

in

two directions. One of these di

rections feels more passionate (the desire to tick someone off);

U1e

othet (to listen, to discuss) more reasonable; but

U1e

licking off can

presen t itself as coldly rational, while the reasonable discussion ca11 be

warm. Reason and passion, as a distinction, captures some of the

ele-.

JI\tl'J.1ts

at work here but 111isses tl1e feeling or sensitive component

in

reaso11,

just as H

misses

t11e

calculath1g

component in

passion.it

However, the point is that

i s c c ~ m n e n t b y

this argtJment·--works

by

sensing (touching, hearing, smelling, listening, seeing)

and

the ex

pression o the senses, particularly in words.

t

works by feeling

(sometimes

in the

dark),

and it

Works deductively, often with insuffi

cient informatio11;

it

n1akes 1nistakes wl1en it is ru.'lhed to conclude be

fore ils time (it

s

rushed by the ego, which always needs a plan) or

when it

is delayed by the ego (which is always anxious about doing

the

wrong thing). Discemme11t, when it doubts the ego's judgment,

registers as a feeling.

Son1ethnes

s11ch feelings can be al ticulated with

rJaHve exactitucle; they

can

be

na111ed,

and reasons for their existence

can

be

adduced. But this, precisely, requires a vocabulary; that is

why

w defined

feelings as

sensations that have found a tr\atch in words.

The naming

of

the feeling is one thing,

but

the ability to investigate

its logic requires

1nore.

rrhat investigation requires a conceptual vo

cabulary

and

a means for circumventing the affects' combined

di.s-

tractlons. The notion that

we

arc susceptible to tr1msmitted affects

.rnakes n1ore sense of I·Iindu, ru1d related,

1•eco1n1nendations

for

achieving peace,5 just as

it

inakes n1ore sense of the 1neditative tradi

tion Descartes inherited. h1 the Jesuit tradition, spirits 1·

den1orts

120 The Transmission o ffect

were and are discer11ed, 1nttch as affects are now disce1·ned. There is a

"on

why Descartes s

editations are

called n1editations. The

p11r-

rea

,

suit of clear

and

distinct ideas

may 110

angel' mean .what 1t once

meant, but

h1

the meditutive

context

it ineans

reasoned

ideas

H1al can

be called upon when one is assailed by affects •md modes in which

one doubts one's faith.' These affects register as a

se.l ies

of apparently

unconnected thoughts,

in

which one thought inten11pls another

thought's pathway without warning.

By

this meallB one ls distracted

and le d to believe that one's feelings are other than they may be. Such

feelings are recoverable

in

some cases via

r e f l e c l i ~ n , in o t h ~ 1 · s r

analysis,

but

the procedure is essentially the same.

t

s that of luston

cal recollection, the comparison

of 1nentories.

When a man realizes that there is grief behind his anget, and that

what

he felt when he

heatd this or that

is

not the passionate affect that

possessed him

at

the time,

but

something finer, how does he do

so?

He

remembers. Then he onlwits the affects by comparmg the state in

whicl1 he was possessed by the othering affects with the stale in

which

he

discerned and felt. He

may

do so

with an

analyst or, occa

sionally,

with

the kind of friend who helps h im see

thmugh

the veil of

affects tatl1er than thickening the veil with misplaced sympathy-

sympathy for t11e affects (as in the sharing of indignation).rather than

love for the friend.

He

reviews the histo ry of his own feelings and af

fects in the matter.

He

follows an essentially histot•ical procedure in

order to

recover

a

truth, and lte

does so with loving intelligence 1•at11er

than by wallowing in. judgments of himself (guilt and shame) or oth

ers

(fe1.u and

paranoia).

111e

limits to this process are not only set

by

insight (the process whereby se11sation

and

feeling connect) but by

language

and

concept (the means whereby sensation and feeling m -

nect). The pl Ocess consists of the redh'ection of energy; the means he

in the comparative sensations of those redeployments, as well as the

words into which

we

are born.

Our man

has to have a language for

any 111atte1' involving histod.cal 1·eview, al\d lauguage is always cul

tural

and

traditional,' bu t that does not mean the development of an·

gnage is over.

In

naming a sensation of whiclt he may be aware (en

ergy depa1'1ing

and

returning) he

may

be limited by his

c1.m·ent

vocabulary, but

he

is pushed to expand it

in

accounting for sensations

in sequence: the knowledge gleaned by comparison.

~ 0 1 n p a r i s o . n based on 111en1ory is critical h1 all practices of discern-

1nent. B11t

unlike the instanta11eo11s con1parison of

positions

discussed

The Education o

ile

Senses 21

1•


6/17

in the last chapte1; compal'ison based

on memory

does not depend on,

but

ratl er

works against, the agitation

of

the affects.a ~ r h e instanta-

neous comparison of positions effected by the egoic affects demands

an immediate assessment and projection-or inb'ojection-of one's

position vis-a-vis the other. This unpleasant process of "placing" has

no

n1en101·y,

i10 sense of historical ·ind.ebtedness.9

I--Iistorical

compari-

son,

by

contrast, is fueled

by

living attention.

t

can only proceed by

concentration. Yet in the matemal cases discussed previously, we saw

H1at

concei1tration_

can

also be

impaired

when

a consta11t stream of

tention (the back

of

one's mind) is diverted toward an infont, leading

to the conclusion that the thing that is marshaled

in

concentration is

an attentive energy, withottt

which

concentration is powei•less to de-

feat ti1e affects and fantasies that int errupt it.rn As

we

have also see11,

the affects

and

concentration boti1

draw on

energy, but

the

affects

have a direct relation to visual and audito1·y fantasy, while m ncent ra

ti.on and feelings have a direct relation to words (and that open form

of

visio11

and the ot11er ear/' prevail when these hypot11etical forn1S

of vision

and

audition are

not

abducted

by

fantasy). As blocks in the

way

of feeling, vision and audition only serve the ego when one

is

wearh1g Freud's #ca1) of hearing on

one

side/ ~ 1 1 1 d

seeing with

an o f ~

fending eyeJI

The battle between feelings and affects that has characterized this

argument so far is plainly intensifying. So,

in t11is

chapte1; will a battle

between

~ h e

notion

of spontaneous einoHons a11d educated feel-

ings. The education, beghu1ing with t11e discemment , of the affects re

lies 01\ the feelings,

which

communicate

with

the sensations. But th e

sensations have a linlited range of self-expression when no language

for

01•

practice in

theil•

r ~ ~ c o g i i t i o n is available. 'fhis does not 1nean

that

the education of the senses has

been

altogether lacking.

We

shall

look at

how the educatl011 of

111

finer feelings was partially accom·

plished through religious codes and codes of courtesy. That is to say,

codes of courtesy

and

ethical or religious conduct operate on a level

similar to philosophical and psychological discermnent insofar as

they use the sa111e n1eans:

con1parison,

detach.n1ent, and living a t t c n ~

lion. Ilollowing some refiections on religious and cn\tural codes,and a

related discussion of the virtues embodied in those codes, I shall dis

cuss the level of discernment that is reached

by

the various philo

sophical

and

analytic practices. From "\his discussion there follows

more analysis of living attention and the life drive and of the role

u Tl e Transmission o Affect

played by the theological virtues

in

transforming as well as resisting

the affects. After tha t, we shall examine the mechanisms of dlscem·

ment in relation

to

sensation,

Cultural Discernment

Civil codes

are

not understood, of course, as means for

diAce1•ning

and

resisting the transmission of affect

and

responding to anothe r's affec

tive states

in

ways that

would

help dissipate 11egative and disabling

affects (putting a person at ease),12 But this is what they do. Codes of

courtesy and religious codes compare the passionate hnpulse to act or

cogitate

in

a certain way with a code of conduct and restraint. When

the code is strong eno ugh to override the in1pulse, whet her its origins

are internal or extemal 1· both, the impulse is refused. The ability to

do this as a

n1atter

of cot1rse, or on occasion,

was

captured in the old

expression, finer feeling, somethin g akin to flne sensor y distinc-

tions. The level of finer feeling is tli.e level referred to in the Spanish lo

siento: colloquially, I'm sorry," and literally, I feel it." On this level

discer1lment

and the

social cottrtesies de1·ived fron it

ai e

1nanifest, i n ~

solar as one is open

to

o t l ~ e r s in a way that wishes them well and

would dissipate their anxiety or

so1•1•ow

if one could.

t

is an opening

through which one feels the other's pain

r

joy as one's own. hl de

scribing friendship, Montaigne put it this way: 11·ue friends feel each

otl1er's feelings."13 They feel their joy or heir sonow. This taking on

of the other's feeling, as a consdo11s thing, presupposes a different

sense of self or boundary than the boundary the ego manufactures by

projecting

out-or

by being

swamped

by negative affects: One is not

open

to

ti1e other through the ego's routes but thmugh the deploy·

ment of sensation,

mmning

feeling. This is the equipment of the dis

c e r n e 1 ~ as distinct froni. the p1•ojecto1'. Civil and spiritual

codes

t11at

r e ~

strain affects that pass

around as

well as

within

cottld

lu1ve

been

wdtten wlth Hi.is

difference in mind. liar instance, a cod e of child

reai·-

ing based on restraining anger does not only repress.14 It also builds

resistance to expressing a wave of passing angry affect. A code based

on encouraging affective s e l f ~ e x p r e s s i o n on the othe1· hand.1

could

l e a v ~ a person

with

no defense ttgainsl invading affects

no

ineans

of

telling whether they expressed the self or something other than the

self. One stmpects that some understanding of the need for discern-

Tlie Educntion o 1e Senses 12:i

I

I

i


7/17

men of the affects

in

child readng i reflected

in language

suggestin

that the

affects and emotions are

not something that

originate

gen.eris. One is F'beside oneself or out of one's mind

or

giving in

to

feelings.''

Co11versely,

011e is

11

closed in at best detached.

There

are

implications

here

for ideas that have traditionally been dismissed as

conservative.

If

affechl wash throu.gh us, giving

in

to

then\ or

11

1

08

ing

it'

in

em.otional display means

that

notions

of

en1otional reserve

as

a good thing

take on new

1neaning.

In

t11is

respect,

as h1others,11

1

;

accou11t

is only a 111irror image of

H.oussea11

s notion of being forced

to

be free.

15

When one

d.oes not adhere to the dictates of the general will

'

one 1s, for l{ousseau, so1nel1ow estranged

fro1n

an essential part of

oneself, that part embodied

in

the collective. By this account, the abil

ity to discern. the transmis.


8/17

sive

accusations

of wrongdoing in

relationships o t •

others sphel e...q,1

6

But oue can also, as

we

have see11,be dumped upon simpliciter. This

is

·

the case

in

shock

and

trauma,

and

there is the constant

and

less tangi

ble buffeting by everyday life. Buffeting can be discerned, just

as

the

vaguely pleasurable process involved in masochistic complicity can

be

identified. Bui

it

takes

an

act of sustained consciousness, sustained

beca11se this resistance is precarious until o:t·

unless

it

becomes

a habit.

Perso11a1 Discer111nent

The production of habits appropdate to

dlscemmmt

is a matter of

personal practices in.volving comparison,

recollection

and 1netnory;.

and

detachment. These practices are held in common in the medita

tive tradition

in

philosophy,

in

psychoaMlysis,

and

in meditation it

self,

or

passive prayer, although the emphasis

on

one practice mther

than another varies. Comparison for the religious Wol'ks by compar

ing

one's actual conduct with a religious ideal. For the religious and

the eal'ly moderns alike, ii also works by comparing

and

contrasting·

inner states. But suc h comparL•on of itself does

110

really explain

the

decislon to embrace or reject a certain affect.

f we

conceive the mo

mc11t

of judgment as

the

moment

in

which

we

forcefully embrace or

project an affect, then

we

can accept that the judgment itself

is

a de

ployment of energy directed toward

an

object,

and

as such,

an

affec

tive

f.orce

h itself.

1

7 But because the streamof judgn1ents

one

Jnakes i11

daily life takes place

in

the context of affective transmission, the les

sons learned from the comparison of states of feeling are constantly

intermpted

by waves of affect.

t

is not only one's own inner states

that are the objects of a meditative investigation by reJfoclion

and

evaluation, as they were for Desca1'1es

and

Hobbes. t is also a qnes

tion

of

one-self and the

o t h l ~ t · .

But because

of

the other, we learn the

difference between living attention

and

draining affects. One can ex

perience directly the effects of receiving atte11tlon (once one

k11ows

to

look)

and

the remarkable experience of being bored or

dr11ined.

(Bore

dom, after all, is not explicable only on the basis of the bore's utter

ances. Another can say the san\c wo1 (ls and leave one vitalized and

fascinated.)

The more one lives

in

the emotional world of judging

01·

being

judged the more the affects distupt concentration or the pl'Ocess of

J.26

Tlw Tl·ansmission o Aj} ect

sustaining attention, One can compare states of feeling as long as one

t e:rnembers

to note their passing, but one cannot attend to an

bu1cr

progression when one is possessedi one forgets, one loses t e thread.

So much

is

evident when we turn to the scraps of writing on discern

ment in the clinic. To quote Bion:

Now

the experience

of

o u n t e r ~ t r n s f e r e n c e

[meaning

the experience of

the

o t h t ~ 1 · s

affect

as

discussed

in

chapter 2]

appeal s to

me

to

have quite a

distinct quality that shot1ld

enable

tlte analyst to

dlffel entiate

the

o c c ~

sion when he

is the object of a

projective

identification

from the

occasion

when he is not. The analyst feels he is being nu1nipulated so as to be

playing a pnrt in

son1eone

else s

fontaay, ol

he ·would

do IJO if

itwere

not

for

what in recollection Ican only call a te1nporal y

loss of insight, aAenAe

of

experiench1g

strong feelings.

18

n

the clinic, the "temporary loss of insight" 1narks the interruption

of one s chain of associations. Inforn1ally

{as

the

qttestion

has not

as

yet been subject

to

a formal survey), cliniclans

who

experience the

transmission of affect say that they do so because the transmitted af

fect is

al odds

with

what

they ttlldel'Sla:nd of heh' owl\ feelings, and

the logic of those feelings, at the time

of

the transmi.sion. The affecL5

attached to

ideaB

should make sense in a sequence. When certain af

fects seen,_ disproport.io11ate in terms of their alleged

cat1BeB

one

should take note. Shnilarly, when_ a new atld stro Lg aff€:ct comes out

of the compamtive blue, it is suspect. For example, when a woman

was rackedby remorse one inorning, over tl1e n1isden1eanor

of

having

foiled

to

thank her research assistant fo • fetching some books, she was

aware that the extent of her self-repmach was too

g


9/17

.;.· --

. cussed earlie1; d l s ~ e t n i n g insight ls not achieved

in

a state of tempes

tuous defe1we.

t 1B

ach1


10/17

I

t bl.shed the subject-centered ego has lo project neg-

As

we

1ave es a 1 ' - . rd

er

to inaintain its identity.

Or

alive affects on or into

the

oU1er m o s

de

ressions. These can be felt

the ego a c c e p t ~ fatm1hlar e d p r o w i e ~ : l ~ o ~ ~ : : a n g ~ r that propelled them.

Or

·udginents

111 erna iz . . b

as J . .

d

igiditv in order to ma1nta1n

su

-

b gistered as 1nert1a an r .

they can

ere . .

0

both These affective proiec-

. d l ty b

femmme

means. r ·

ject1ve I en

1

Y . e saw at u

1

e

beginning, can

tions

and

introjections

or

1udg1nents, asd '. ' w'ds llt1t

it

is

obvious

1

·

d

withstoo 111

cro ·

be discerned in the c imc an · · · · sist

them It

that the fewer of these affects there are, the ea sier it IS _ t o r ~ s de

• c I

o

now plain

that

sucl1 resistance is

always

t h ~ snnu tadneou t

is a s . attention What re1na1ns to be rawn ou

ployment

of living, energetic' . f ed

in

the presence of

I

t' affects are trans

orm

is the

way

t 1e nega ive . · I · The next sec-

. t f l'ving attention: love,

opt11n1s111,

og1c.

other

var1an so

1

t . imniary involves evalua

tion tt1rns

to

this. Personal discern1nen_·, in stf 1

L {

in of the affects.

. f

ie,s inner

states

and evalt1at1ons o t le or g

hons

o o1 .

f

m one' s pa ssionate judg111ents and

These

are effected by e t ~ c ~ y n ; b : ~ r v i n g

their

sequence. One discerns

affective depress1011s,

an

these

things

with

attention.

The

Theological Virtues

. , . b

- n

as preservh1g a kind of stasis of

The

cardinal

v1.rtues I ~ I g ~ ~ s ~ h e y protect the one from the affects

the self in

: l a : : ~

: ~ e t

e d ~ : ~ t s . i n

themselves

change the

climate in

of the othe ' y fl h That transformation requHeS the

whicl1· tl1e i f 1 e l g a t i v ( e a 1 a 1 d f f : ~ t ~ ~ e r o p ~ : ~ s g e ~ 1 i t o ~ s of J ~ v i n g atte11tion,

such

as

presence o ove c b · b

ting

d f th) To

draw

this out, we can egm y no

hope,

reason,

an

ai . . . . different animal

that passion, i:1 its, c f t 1 r r e d n ~ y o ~ : : ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ t ~ : : f v : ~ t l 1 y ~ r h e passio11

from the pass10n re use J( t' d

f

. . n1ent

b11t

more sinister.

an

s e 1-

they

ref11sed is

not

se11sual

en1oy

' . . . Joint

. . assio11

as

so111ething like

an

obsession IS a case in l . .

n1tI011

of

p . n of

tl1e

reasoning process, wh1cl1

. f . ] t was

the

pervers10 '

Pass1011 old aln 'ct. fixed

o11

a self-absorbed direction. Psychoana

is perverte ·w 1en

1

IS i· d · fro1n

lytically, the calculatio'.lS

c h a r a c t e r i s t i ~ of

o b s e : : : ~ ~ a a 1 ~ ~ a 1 ~ ; : ~ : ; only

the ego's

initial

forn1ahon

111

a ~ a n e ~ co1:npa b

the

affects they

tl

are tl1ese calcu]ations given

energy

y

~ , : ~ ~ e g ~ ~ e : ; . a i e . One can think oneself e t a c ~ 1 e ~ f ~ o m ~ ; : ; ~ ~ ~ ~ : ~ ~

still

be

gripped

by

the1n, insofar as one ca cu a es co .

130

Tlie Transmission of ffect

.

c•··\ .'

\

1

1

j

i

j

of

whether this 1nistake was

ever made by

the ancients, i t is 1nade

by

those

who

think that coldness is equivalent

to

detach1nent, or worse,

clear thinking. Being coldly detached is

being much

too preoccupied

with one's own position, and it narrows one

1

s focus. It forecloses the

feeling intelligence at

work

in

11

evenly suspended attention in

which

one is

open

to new

ideas

about the other. And as tha t feeling

intelligence

works by

1naking connections

between

new

and

existing

ideas,

any constraint on

it

(such

as

a

preoccupation

with

prestige) is a

constraint on the soul's

growth

through knowledge. When

I

sug

gested above that there was so1nething ln attention that connected it

with

both

love and the life drive as well aB intelligence, I was think

ing

not only of the

their shared

processes

of

connection (documented

in

synaptic

growth). I also had in mind their close links

with

sexual

ity, as did Freud when

he

conceived of a life drive.

I

have indicated

why life drive is a needlessl y homogenizing ter1n, conjuring

up

a

romantic animism when it should be shedding it. But for now

I

shall

let

it stand, with

all its vitalist connotations, because it will remind

the

reader that

Freud's original

use of

it

connected

life

with

the ego

or self-preservative drives on the one hand (with thinking, action,

and attention) and the libido or love and sexual drives on the other.

Freud did not distinguish between the ego and the

other

I that thinks

by making connections, but he did note that when too much libido is

diverted

inward in narcissisin and fantasyf we fall ilI. M'oreover, such

narcissistic diversion by the

ego interrupts the

process

of

logical con

nection in

order

to inaintain its present

array

o judg1nental attitudes

(and hence its existing self-concept).

Whether

the libido is directed

toward tnaking connections in thought or inaking then1 erotically, it

_must 1nake the1n whenever it directs its

energy

away fron1 itself. That

is its

nature.

Apathy

in the sense of cold

detachment

does

not

fully

resist the affectsf

fol'

it has

not

co1npleted

turning

its attention

around, away

from itself and toward the other. It has paused at the

point where it notes what H receives fro1n the

other

but

nol·

what it

gives to the other.

It

detaches from the affect, but does not dissipate

it. Dissipation, as we have indicated, is effected by the theological

virtues: faith, hopef

and

love.

The relation of hope to con1bating the negative affects of trans1nis

sion is obvious enough. It is sin1ilar

to

the opti1nisn1 that the futur e

can be better that Freud listed together with

the

love of truth

(111eaning honesty) as positive factors in prognosis.2

2

Optin1isn1-or

The Ed cntion of

the Senses

i3


11/17

hope-repels rather than attracts anger and depression. Faith is a su

perb shield insofar as it presupposes that one is the focus of a divine

loving intelligence,

but

the trusting ability it also presupposes is at

odds with the n1odern existential te1npera1nent, which views faith as

symptomatic of a childlike dependence (which it is), an alternative to

the courage to look aloneness full in the face.23 On the other hand, if

the modern person truly wants

to

grow up, he or she will have the

courage

to

follow through

on

reaso11

when

its exercise leads to the

recognition of the existence of God, and not deny this conclusion be

cause of an e1notional dependence on the other s social approval. For

y own part, I think faith depends on reason, insofar as sustaining a

faith hangs on reason rather than the ego s credulousness.2

1

But rea

son is also tied to love.

J_Jove

as we have

arg11ed

throughout, cannot

really be divorced

fro1n

attention and, therefore,

fro1n

thinking. In

short, thinking and loving are closely related in themselves. They are

also-both of then1-forms of resistance in tl1c nonperpetuation of the

negative affects, as it see1ns is any process of 1naking or sustaining

connections consistent with the known facts or the needs of others

and

psychical

and

physical health. In short, the tendency to bind

and

bring together, to make things cohere, follows the logic of the life

drive. Without it, the psyche is in pieces. This erotic and cohering en

ergy is a bsent especially it1 psychosis, whose schizophrenic versions

are marked by the inability to make logical connections and by lack of

sexual affect and/or loving ties

to

others.25 (Milder forms of these in

abilities also characterize the hysterias, not

to

mention the disorders

of attention and hyperactivity (see chapter

1).

At the same time, while

one inay gauge a thinker a cold fish, tha t does not n1ean he

is

witho11t

love; t may be tha t he is merely channeling all of his ability

to

connect

with his thoughts rather than siphoning it offby interaction.

B11t t11e

1nain point is about the relation between the virtues

and

the

pracLice of discern1nent. It is perhaps plain now that the internaliza

tion of religio11s codes,

and

the religio11s observance of codes or cour

tesy, are also linked (potentially at least)

to

an inner process of dis

cern1nent, discern1nent at a n1ore private level.

~ h i s is

the case insofar

as these inter11alizations function as

an

ethical sense\ That deep ethical

sense is a 1neans for differentiating betwee11 one s position (oneself)

a11d the legitin1acy or conviction an invading affect lends to thoughts

that were hitherto kept in their place. Consider an example: I am toy

ing wit11 a fantasy of revenge that I have exan1ined ethically and

132

The Timw ission of ffect

spurned for what it is. Then I am possessed by a fury, a combination

of anger and the wish that the other should cease to

harm

me by dis

appearing, a kind of hate. The thought I had hitherto spurned now

takes over consciousness. Let us also say that this hostile thought

is

levered into place by a hostile act on the part of the part y 1 want

lo

be

gone and

to

feel in his going the affects he has made me feel Let us

say, too, that this hostile act causes

1ne

anxiety, perhaps based on

-

nancial insecurity if

n1y

enen1y is in the workplace.

As long as 1ny religious or secular ethics can counter this anxiety

and force back this invading affect, I am myself, and n1oreover, in a

position to discern the workings of the affect within me. But I cannot

discern

it

when I

a1n

driven by anger

to

act against

1ny

provocateur.

Instead, I experience this drive as an

inner

propulsion. My ego has

been engaged in a manner that permits the affect entry. This is the

place of n1y fear and anxiety, which arc the hooks for aggression, just

as depression is for anger. But the negative affects, as have often been

noted, have a function in self-preservation. As the (good) ego they lit

erally keep us alive, in tha t reality-based anxieties ren1ove us frorn sit

uations of peril, while aggression can save one s life when deployed in

defense. B11t the arousal of anxiety, as we have seen,

111ay

inake

n1e

party

to

an unjust idea, whose inju.stice is evident in the wave of ag

gression my ill wishes direct toward

n1y cnen1y.

T hese ill wishes, this

judging wave of affect, also reinforce the fear and anxiety in y foe

for he too feels the threat from my animus, just as his animosity pro

duced a correspondi ng fear in me.

Both of us have directed passionate judgments toward the other,

judgments that convey the revengeful constellation across space by

their energetic force. Whal I can 1nobilize against this force is the

strength of my

iclenlification with the principle ol forgiveness-and

the discernh1g other I who

may

emerge if I have a strong identifica

tion with that principle. When we love, the other feels it. When we

love those

\.Vho

are not like us, even though they don t think like us or

read the sa1ne books or read flt

nll

those others feel it. Son1eli111es lhe

other even listens, because the love alJows

the1n

to lower their

ovvn

shield (of projected affects or judgments)

and

permit entry to a new

idea.

26

To

love or forgive is to remove oneself fro1n the loop. This is

vvhy the act

o.f

real forgiveness can e entirely selfish. The forgiver is

the beneficiary, insofar as he or she

is

then free of trans111itting a nega

tive affect, and so free

fro1n

attracting inore of the

san1e.

Moreover, if

The Educntio oftlie Senses -c33


12/17

there is a negative affect directed towar d one in reality, refusing it

m y

irritate the projector un1nercifully, insofar as

he

or she counts

on

an

aggressive response. Really love those that hale you;

do

good to them

that pe rsecute you. There is

no

better escape, no clearer

p th to

free

dom. There is also

no

better revenge.

But if

11e

is to be free

of

the negative affects, one has

to

give over an

identity based on projected judgments.

n

the introduction, I pro

posed

t11at

an identity

based on

discern1nent

was

not the sa1ne as an

identity based on the ego s status-boun d boundaries. Enou gh has

been

said about the latter.

We

can now

dd

that proceeding

by

dis

cernment

nd

proceeding

by

judgmental projections are different,

but

we

can only see this because

we

have situated

both

processes in the

context

of

affective trans1nission.

If

one

n1ai11tains tl1e sense of

a

dis

tinct identity by discernment, one does so best

by

meditative practices

nd n

openness to the distinct being

who

is sheltering behind the

com1non ego, in 011eself and others alike. Only then can one attend to

one s own sensations

a11d

feeling for the other,

by

se11sing what is not

oneself,

a d

noting, as well as feeling,

when one

falls back

on

the neg

ative affects. But

we

have been stretching a point

by

contfauing to use

the language of

n

other

I, when

all

we

have really

shown

so far is that

the claims of the feelings

nd

senses can e

t w r with

those of the af

fects and ego. But we

have

also shown a little at least, that a

sense of

self anchored in discernmen t is possible nd desirable,

nd

that it is

more likely

to

take hold where the negative affects, as a social phe

non1enon, are dhninished.

If socia] context is one tl1at reinforces the ineans for struggling

against the negative affects thro11gh religiou s and c1tltural codes, then

tl1e practice

of

personal discern1nent beco1nes easier and the resis

tance to tl1e

ego-witl1

its

world of

appearances and

things-stronger.

In

t11is

late-modern context,

il1 which

affects thicken, discern1nent is

so weak that people no longer know that there

is

anything

to

be dis

cerned. In such a co11text, tl1e

sense of

self does depend on boundaries

formed

by

projecting

nd

introjecting affects, it

depends

on knowing

who one is

by

depositing alien affects in the other. The urge to do

tl1is -a11d inai11tain botu1daries

by

these aggressivz

means-intensi.fy

as

the

affects

11e

wants

to live without, anxiety especially, thicken so

cially. The affects are thickened, the hear t scaled better,

when

there are

real threats to living, such as ht1nger, 1101nelessness, and grief. These

tl1reats give rise to anxieties that under1ni11e any atten1pt at peace

of

134 The Transmission of

ffect

mind, as

do

related deman ds for unpurposeful work, which leave the

body unrested

nd

prey to passing affects. Attitudes of discernment

are 1nore easily adopted and reinforced

where

there is enjoy1nent and

where there is plenty; the bodily changes in rage

nd

pain are indis

solubly tied to those in hunger;27

nd

too

much

hunger for too long

can drive a people mad. Yet discern111ent can also be co1n1nunicated in

appalling physical circumstances, otherwise a form of resistance like

Gandhi s satyagraha

28

could never have taken hold.

The negative affects are brought to a stop

when

a dyadic

or

binary

loop is broken because the response to aggression is to resist it with

out violence. They are transfor1ned when love or its variants (wit, rea

son, affection) reorde r aggression. They can be deconstructed (the im

ages

nd

energies trapped in them taken apart) nd turned around.

For oneself, this can be done in solitude. But the transformation of the

affects at large requires being in the world, rather than living the life

of the mind.

t

requires subjecting oneself to eddies or even torrents of

affects, wl1ile so1nehow 1naintaining equilibritnn. Such is the practice

of

sot1ls who

when

assailed

by envy

or contempt or rage

do

not take

it

personally, for they kno w that these are forces that possess even the

finest souls,

whose

discerning agencies so1nethnes cower in the cor

ners

of

their possessed minds, waiting for jt to be over.

The other feels it when

we

love or give generous attention,

nd

benefits from it. The benefits

m y

not be conscious, but they are real

as long as love is really love, that is to say, the gift is one of attention

to

the other s needs rather tha n an obsession or a dem nd to be loved.

hypothesized earlier that light might be cast on some of the un

know ns in embryology if the living logic of the mothe r s flesh consti

tuted a shield against the negative affects, in the same

w y

that her

energetic attention constit11tes a shield after birth.

13ut

the nature

of

this postnatal shield is different. Loving attention does not provide

the absolute shield that partaking in the living logic does,

but

it is its

best approximation.

Feelings

Proceeding further

111eans

encountering the subjective standpoint that

stymies tts each tin1e we

tur11

to a given area for the state of its re

search. The active yet receptive capacities

of

discern1nent and atten-

The

Ed c tion

of

the enses

35


13/17

tion

cry

out to be named the soul." But these capacities, by the defi

nition

of

feelings employed here, are linked to the unimpeded

se11ses- tl1e se11sitive and vegetative capacities/ s11ch as

smell,

rather

than the higher ones,

such

as

thought, the

traditional

abode

of the

soul. Setting aside further discussion of the investigation of the other I

or soul for now,

we can

look at feelings as sucl1, which takes us back

to

t11e

idea

of

the

senses

as

11

the

seneschals of

attention.

The

difficulties in

understanding that

the senses

and

the flesh em

body

a logic

that

moves far faster

than thought

are tied to Western

schemas

that

degrade

the

body

and bodily

intelligence. This is be

cause t11e schemas

i11variably rank

the

so11l in ter1ns of intellect first,

followed by the capacity to sense, followed by the fleshly passions

and/or vegetative soul. The fleshly category is assumed to be the least

intelligent

and

to

11ave the maximum

disorder. It is prilne

n1atter

witl1out for1n, or the successor of for1n, thinking intelligence.

Yet

it is

thro11gh the blood that hormones dance

their

dance of co1n1nunica

tion,

while tl1e

senses lTy to inake sense of the1n in a vocabulary that

does 11ot provide the1n with an appropriate 11omenclature.29 More to

the

point, all

the se11ses

as vehicles of attention,

con11ect

the suppos

edly higher

cognitive faculty of linguistic

thought with

the fleshly

knowledge

or codes of

the

body.

By

the

logic of this argu1nent so far, it would be a grave n1istake to

perpetuate the association

between the

higl1er aims in 11tnnan en

cleavor and the 11igher brain functions. For ii1stance, s1nell 1nay ap

pear

1norc

prhnitivc than

the "l1igher" developn1ent of language,

but

it

is, nonetheless, incapable of lying.

t

can

be

deceived, just as hearing

and

vision ca11

be

deceived, bt1t

one cannot

consciot1sly decide to

e111it

a

smell

that

is

at odds with

one's affects. Above all, smell precisely dis

cerns.

t

does not

content

itself with

wallowing

in the primitive affec

tive responses

with which it

is so often associated. It also

works

with

great rapidity, processing

much in

a millisecond, whereas Janguage

takes its thne.

Yet the intelligence of

such

rapidly

moving

olfactory knowledge is

regarded as inferior, so1nething like a reflex, r a t h ~ r than a faster n o v ~

ing mind within. Why is this? I suggest that there is one reason and

one reason

only, ai1d

it

is na1ned the fotn1dational fantasy.

That

fan

tasy results

in tl1e

disposition to see activity as 1nindless

when

it is not

directed from

the

standpoint of self-interest. (In turn, this leads to the

136 The Transmission

of ffect

l

I

i

I

L

l

diff culties in conceiving of the activity of nature-or pregnancy, or

1natter-as

passive.) Even

when

the senses are actively palpating,

they are classified as subordinate to thinking

in words and

pictures

because they are

not

directed from the

standpoint

of self-interest.

In

truth

or reality,

sensory

registration bypasses perceptions struc

tured

from the subject standpoint in a search for

language that

works

with the living logic and circumvents the ego. When the senses suc

ceed

in producing

conscio11s awareness of this

or

that, they produce

knowledge

that

can

be

con11nunicated eithe r to oneself or another

in

language

(when the

words

exist or can be learned),

but

the conscious

awareness it

produces

precedes

that

expression, and n1ay stun1ble for

words, although it will

run

after the words wl1en it sees or hears

them. h1formation is gleaned

by

the senses,

but

then it is interpreted

or transliterated

by something

split from the senses.

t may

be inter

preted

by something

aligned

with

the logic of the senses or

by

some

thing opposed to them, son1ethh1g interested

in

constructing a

world

view

based

011 its own whims. Sucl1 interpretations are 1nade by the

ego, and the ego's h1terpretations are tendentious, based 011 censor

ship.

In

the

interpretation

lies room for suggestibility, for paranoia, for

funda1nental inisr eading. For instance, if I smell of fear,

you may

dis

cern this

and

try to lJUt 1ne at n1y ease.

Or you

1nay iniscalibrate

1ny

nervo11sness. You smell

something

offensive, but you also n1isread my

apprehensive expression. In consequence, you interpret ine as aggres

sive

in

1ny intention s

toward

yotl.

In

the

exa1nple jt1st

give11 my

olfactory senses

would work

n1ore

subtly

than the visual perception

that

shapes my

response. Sensory

registration and perception would

not

be the

same

thing.'° The infor-

1nation fro1n

the senses

conflicts; one is accurate,

the

other sees

throt1gh a

darkened

eye, bt1t

when

they are interpreted

in

concert,

even

t11e

acct1rate inforn1ation

supports

a inisinterprctation. The

i11

forn1ation it atte1npts to con11nunicate is st1borned to t he service of tl1e

ego, whicl1

has censored

wl1at it sees and hears as it seeks reasons

to

agree with social opinio11.

The

senses, as I have stressed, are not the

e111otio11s;

they are tl1e vel1icles for lheir discernn1ent, just as they are

for alerting us to other aspects (the weathe1; the h'affic)

of

the envi

ronn1ent

a11d

circu111stances

in

which

we

exist. But they

work

by con

1

-

1nunicating

along

variot1s 11eural pathways. Before they co1ne or re

turn to the

brain,

they .have to negotiate

various

synaptic censors and

the translations

from

cl1en1ical

tc

electrical ilnpulses,

and

vice versa.

The ducation

of

the Senses 137


14/17

These chains of communication are inseparable from the impulse the y

communicate. Their matter is their form. Yet what they commtmlcate

also changes in

the

transliteration to language and concept

at

the

same time as the impulse

to

commtmicate persists.

t

persists

in

that it

seeks to circumvent the censornhip effected by the ego.

The conscious ego forecloses kitowledge and assumptions that chal

lenge its sense of intellecWal supel'lority in its body; the tmconscious

ego censors similar knowledge

by

repressing it

and

keeping it uncon

scious. By this censornhip and this foreclosure, the ego creates gaps ht

-conscious tu1derstanding. These gaps mea tl at ego-consciousness

knows less

than

the senses whose multiple communications battle

with

81e ego's censorship and denial.

t

means that t11e senses and the

informational channels of the flesh (whose matter is intrinsic

to

their

form) are intelligent, aware,

and

stl'llggllng either to overcome or get

tlu'Ongh to a s l o w e i ~ thicker person

who

calls itself 1 or worse, me. t

also means that the extent of one'• htlelligence depe nds olt a struggle

between different ideas, differen t chains of information, a s\n1ggle me

dialed by the available concepts as well as the ego's clinging to its own

standpoint.

Now whether the ego speaks

its

empty speech or the soft voice of

reason pr€vails, both speak. ne is speaking the pas1:1ionate1 henl'tless

language of the affects. The other ls relying

on

logic (in part) and its

sensing and feeling of the empirical state of things.

31

The outcome

of

this struggle depends on

how far

love or Jiving attention prevails over

the force of affects directed by the ego. To some degree, it also de

pends

on the

education of the senses, which improves tlteir cltances of

discerning

and

resisting those affects. The education of these sci1ses

gives us

joy. It is the arousal fto1n below that is so significant in rab

binical literature." Yet as the ego loses standing when the fleshly

senses

win

through

to consciousness

and

direct the body's govem-

1nent, we

also find the1n terrib.le as an

arn1y..

leavil1g noth:in.g of us h1

its wake.

138

The Tt·ansmission o Affect

C f l A PT ER SEVEN

Interpreting the Flesh

Freedom from the affects means freedom fo r the .feelings to be known

to conscioll8ness. Feelings ca11 be sifted from affects, and better

known

to consciousness, thtottgh the d eployment of living attention

or

love.

B t

stLch

attc11lion encou11ters

a fol n1idable opposing fotce.

Affects (via hormones and other means o.f projection and 1·eception)

arc carried in the blood,

and with

them is carried the presence of the

other

and

the social ln the system. (To find an utterly

pure

soul within,

something untouched by

human error, one woul d have to sustai n liv

Ing atteitlion through a process of complete exsnnguination.)

As

t

rule,

affects can be sifted from feelings in everyday life through dis

cemment, 01· through pradicing cultural codes tl1at suppress the af

fects, or through analysis, These

embody

llvlng attention dh'ected

toward the other within and withottt. But feelings are less likely

to

be

known

when

the

heart is sealed, for the reason lhat the 1nore the af

fects thicken

and harden

the more difficult discernment becomes. The

hardenlng of

t11e

affects is a social affair

so their

transfortnation re-

q t 1 h · ~ 8 political as well aa p(:1l sonal attention. In political as well as

person al cases, clmnging the disposition of the affects (from passivity

inducing and raging judgments

o

the other to love 01· affection) re-

quil es

practice

and

knowledge. The unclerstaitding

and

deployment

of feelings

s

critical in both endeavo rs as the means for discerning af·

fects

and

reconnecling

with

the original

knowledge

of

tl1e

senses.

u siento it was noted, means, literally,

" feel

it. The vei·b here, sen-

tir also

n1eans

to s1nell in

t·he

French languages, I 1nention this now

139

'

:


15/17

33. Rorty, "ExplainingEmotions/' 49.

34. Following Amelie Rorty from an anthropological perspective, R. C.

Soloxnon notes

that

"the p1•hnary entotions, those of the greatest concel'n,

va1'y

considen:i.bly

fro1n

c:ulture to culture. Indian clasaifications and dis

tinctions betW


16/17

:to, Thia is why psychoanalysis and shnilar intedocutions directed toward

this dis7.

1.2,

Norbel't Elias, The Civilizing Proceos, t1·1 u1s Edmund Jephcott (Oxford:

Blackwell, 1992).

i.3. Michel de Montaigne, "On Friendship,'' in

Essays,

tt·ans. J M. Cohen

(London: Penguin, 1958).

:t4. Posl._Winnicott chil d rearh1g is ruled by the idea that if a child feels ab

solutely loved, it will

be

capable of loving others. But love is

misunderstood

when it i n e u n ~ the free expression of all feelings. If a child is washed

by

a

torrent of

1·age

against

which

it

has no

defenses, it needa to

learn

to erect

those defenses by understanding that l'age is not ,'Jomcthing to give h1 to.

The more practice one has at this, the inore

one

fortifies one's defenses

against a

rage that

is

not

one's own.

It

is diffe1'ent

when

the rage s one's

own, however, just as

it

is different

when

one cat'l'ies the other's rage as

one's own depression.

i.5. For Roui:;senu also has Ernile s tu :or remark that

11

one is 1nore free

under

the social pact than

in

the stale of nature." Jean-facques Rousseutt

1

Emile, or

On

Education,

teans. Allan Bloon1 (New York: Dasie Books, 1979

1

book

5

1

part 4

1

84 .i.

But in Rousseau

1

s case, there is so1neth:ing missing that ls only

supplied by the general will: "Our trne

self

is

not

whole entirely inside of

us

11

CEm;lle

461). Dy contrast,

if

one is discerning affects, discerning

what

is

not

ours

but

inside of us is the aim of the exercise,

:t6.

For

Freud

this

c1·hne

was

the

itnaginary

murder

of

the

father, a

inurder

co1n1nitted

eve1·y

tinte the fnthcl' was surpassed by the son. See Freud,

"Those

Who A1:e

W1·ecked by Sui::ccss/' Standard

EdUion.

vol. 14. There ls al

ways an

interlock in

any

relationship between lwo

in

which

the

energy

and

capacities of

the

one are enhanced

at

the expense

0£

the other, unlesFJ it is u

case of rape, so-called Aeducllons of the young

and

physically vulnerable,

physical violence or intimidation,

and

abusive language or verbal violei1ce.

We know when another's anger shatterR us, altnost as though the sound bar

rier we

i11fe1·1·ed

earlier is a real thing, so'n1ething vulnerable to aggressive

tonalities, especially when they

m·e

repeated, as well us to physical trau1na.

These, st.t'lctly speaki ng, ar e

the

n1echanisms of dun1plng

pure and

shnple,

as·

distin ct fron1 the hook p1·ovided by projective identification, for good or ill.

J.7,

It is a force that can displace that other I who holds sway with 1nore dis

cern.ment. But the fact o f this movrr.blc force does not explnin Lhose 1no1nents

when

energy

and

insight are in lockstep. As we shall see, the

energy that

96 Notes to

Pages

:cl2-t26

bats al- Ottnd

freHully

ll1 bo1·edo1n 01•

follows in frustl'ution the opinionated

dh-eclions o f the judg1nents is energy that has lost son1e of its links with the

logos. Ilu't it can rmnake those links when it is once rnore aligned with

o n ~

sci.oi1s11ess. In such a case, Schopenl1auer

1

s will, at the hmnan level

1

is no

longer

blinded. wrhe soul has achieved its denrest ailn of ttnion

with

the

body,

11

as Angustine put it.

-16. Ilion, ExperienC es ht

Groups,

149.

19. Even passions in (ant's 1-esh·icled, obsessional sense-perversions of

the

reasoning

process-can

he

explained

by

the distortions effected

by

o s i ~

Honing. TheRe posilio ns a:i:e not the affects, but they p1·oduce the affects. The

idea

that they operate without the l'edceming fuel of hu1nan ernotions

(which at least leaveH us capable of co1npassion) feels evil because the con

nection with flesh

and blood

is so tenuous,

the body

a shnple tneans

to

an

end at odds with its purpose. The arnbiguity in l


17/17

23.

But this courage is only really courage if what

t

does i s socially difficult;

that is to

sa,y,

i f i t risks the loss of

the

love of friends

and fa1nily at

one ex

tren1e, or even ~ h e general good

approval

of others, intellectually or finan

cially. Atheis1n in

the

nineteenth century was socially difficult, but thal is no

longer the case,

24. See C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity.

2.r;. Freud nu1de the same polnt when he said that those who are well have

the

ability to love

and o r l ~

.

:z6.

Gillian Rose, Love's Worlc (London: ChaHo and Windusr 1995).

27. W. B. Connon, Bodily Changes in

Pain,

Hunger, Fear, and Rage (New York:

Evanst on, 1963).

28. The act of resistance is loving, intelligent, never neutral,

and

always

i s ~

torically based, whether

it

is exercised

in

an isolated or a socinl context.

29·

Forn1 was always intelligence

in h a t

it

organized

1natter into intentio1ml

patterns

thftt gave each

pattern

its distinct

being or

alln. That is

the point

of

the \ogos as proportionate i11atter, a point that is obscured the ntore the ego

gets things otlt of propo1tion, as is ita wont.

30.

See Freud s

account of the perceptual apparatus in chapter 7 of lw

n-

terpret-ation of

Dreams,

Standard EdiHon,

vol.

5.

31 The experience of rival interpreters in

one's head

is probably less con.1-

:inon t·han the experience of rival inte:tpretationa,

but

I would

hazard that

inne1

1

dialogues are as recognizable an experience as throwill.g one's reason

to the winds

when

gripped

by passh1g affects.

J2. See Abra1nson, Like Water/ ' 16. As Abra1nson notes, the arousal ftorn

belff'V has been connected y respected

Cabalists with

the ir:nmediate co1n-

111unication between hen1·ts, which is connected by Abratnson with the

sense of

s1nell.

7, Interpreting the Fleslt

1 The, ego is slowe1· in its calculntiona and its ability to reach a conclusion,

slower than what

is comn1011ly called inhlitio.t1. I hove

argued

that

it

ls

slower because it ulinost alwoyB re1noves itself, lo a greater or lesser extent,

frorn the present. (See

Exhausting Modernity,

chapter 3.)

The

ego-as

the I'.e

fleeting part of the

mind-exists

in

past and fulttre thne, either calcttlaHng·,

a1\ticipating, desiring, regretting, rctne1nbering, Ol' ill reverie. Oceasionally

1

the mind

is occupied

by

co11centratecl attention following a path ali.gned

with the

living logic

1

in which case 1·everie functions to l'edirect I am not

saying that

anticipation

nnd

l'Cflection

can

be avoided.

The idea-rather

is

U1at their exercise

has

a

living

cost. Really, all I tun

doing

here is making

1--Jegel's

old point that

refleclion

and

na1ning kill

the

vel-y

thing

they

na1n'e,

like capturing the fly in aspic/

1

as Lacan later

put the

sa1nc

point.

See Lucio

Colletti,

Marxisrn

and ffegel

1

Ltt111s Lawrence

Garner

(LondotL

New

Left

Books, 1973), 52-67, and jnc

brennan transmission affect ch 6

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