#freud wishes he could study us…
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Blah blah oral fixation etc. You get the idea
#something abt his fingers and his mouth and his hands and his mouth and the smoke and his fingers and his mouth.#freud wishes he could study us…#made like half a dozen versions of this with different songs couldn’t decide which was best. but this one is Always good#philip seymour hoffman#psh#*#video#sorry I feel like I’ve been Bad At Posting lately work is killing me and I had a seizure yesterday. hopefully I will be less sporadic soon 🫡
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Blood & Wine
Put the bet on... on something.
Another day, another chapter. This one is shorter because i didn't want anyone who reads to get bored midway.
Next chapter will be longer. And hopefully life won't punch me in the face yet again, so i can post a new chapter sooner.
P.S. Today Kler and her song "Любов" ("Love") helped me a lot to put this chapter together. Thank you, Kler.♡
"In the depths of the depths That salty love Emerges, emerges And will fly between the worlds Looking for those two again To connect, and will connect them"
She has no idea how she got there. One moment she's trying to study criminology, the next she's working as an interrogation expert and psychologist for an elite Task Force. Soldiers mixed with CIA agents mixed with private companies like Shadow Company. Too much for someone who tries to avoid the whole military world.
Red even regrets starting to work in that mess, also a bit angry at Kate Laswell and her honeyed words that could convince even professionals like Red to 'help the right cause.'
Fucking empathy and the wish to always help everyone. Right, Red?
Those regrets don't last long - she simply has no time to think about it much. And like a proper psychologist, Red tells herself: 'Be positive, keep it positive!' while at the same time wanting to fist fight Soap for trying to start a political banter with Gaz.
'I love that work!' - new mantra for Red. Works with varied success. The thing that works non-stop just like she does is tranquilizers.
She loves that work unironically, at least for down-to-earth Captain Price. Bless his soul.
Truth be told, Red has no idea why they need her there. Absolutely all of them are amazing at human behavior reading. Maybe they themselves don't understand that? Who knows.
But all of them are weirdly sweet. Even Ghost or as Red calls him 'Mr. My Chemical Romance' is strangely patient with the "lowly" civvie. Well, he was the one to give her the nickname, wasn't he? 'You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed' maybe? Because sometimes Red feels like a little pet the men of Task Force took in - a bit annoying and might reduce stress. (While giving her even more stress).
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
"Ye sure that Freud was wrong about oral fixations? Price smokes a lot. Maybe it's something from childhood?" Soap fell down with a loud thump on the small couch in Red's office.
"You smoke too, Soap," the woman shakes her head, looking skeptically at the Scottish soldier.
"All of us do, lassy," the man mumbles, taking the couch pillow and making it a hostage of his hug. "But Price... Price smokes too much!" His Scottish accent is nice to the ear. Not harsh, yet prominent.
"Well, considering how messy some of your missions are... no wonder he smokes so much," Red shrugs, looking out the window of her office, gazing at the trees near the base, enjoying the spring green.
Captain Price is a workaholic. Everyone knows that. Late hours is nothing to him if the work calls. No matter if he needs to save the world or to file some paper work. He just gets himself a glass of whiskey and a good cigar. And works, works and works. Red is jealous of his ability to sit and do the work so patiently without needing to stop every fifteen minutes and stare into the wall.
Sergeant's tired sight brings Red back from the deep thoughts.
"Why are you here, by the way? Something happened?"
"Why every time I'm visiting, you think I did something? You never doubt LT like you doubt me, lass." MacTavish couldn't help but tease.
"Why? Because it was you who tried avoiding Ghost after losing his knife while sitting in my office... lad," Red let out a chuckle, remembering that whole ordeal. "Your mohawked head cannot stay out of troubles for at least a week..."
"Yeah... fair." Scotsman laughs, turning to look at the ceiling. His blue eyes are still full of something. Something that Red understands as a curiosity.
"Why does Ghost spend so much time here in your office, though?" Mischievous glint in John's eyes took Red off guard. "He doesn't want to talk about the fact that he spends most of his free time on base here, in your office."
Soap is sometimes too smart for his own good. He's sees small things, notices the smallest changes in human behavior. Red once thought that if he wouldn't be a soldier he would make a good psychologist. But on the other hand Soap and his fiery personality helps him a lot in his line of work.
Interacting with him is interesting. He is weirdly accepting of Red's anonymity. Which, of course, warms her heart and gives her the feeling of belonging that she was seeking. She would never tell him that, though.
Red knows damn well not to give Soap too much information. Not to give him something that he might use later to tease her or his Lieutenant.
"Because, my dear Soap, my sweet sweet lovely, Johnny..." the psychologist began, using that sweet, nice voice on the Scottish soldier, "I'm cooler than you all!"
Soap couldn't help but laugh, still thinking that he won't leave his question unanswered. He's persistent, he'll finds out his truth. Like he always does. If not truth than at least something to tease Red and Ghost with.
Or maybe he and the rest should put the bets on... on something.
Silence filled the room yet again, letting them both enjoy fleeting moments of peace.
Tag list: @cloudofbutterflies92 @chloekistune @justasmolbard
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Christopher Hitchens: Now I see with a horrific clarity why you didn't like my mention of Sigmund Freud. Nietzsche was supposed to have said god was dead, Freud is supposed to have said god was dad.
In [Freud's] "The Future of an Illusion," his best essay on the subject I think, he says that it's impossible to study religion without noticing its connection to wishful thinking. That people would like, as they expire, to think, I'm not going anywhere, I'm just going into the arms of a loving father. Who wouldn't like to believe that?
Who here decides what they believe on the basis of their wish though, I may inquire? Do any of you decide to believe things cause they would console you?
What about a word like... it hasn't come up yet in our discussion. Big, interesting, important word, begins with e: evidence.
All the evidence says that the cosmos doesn't know we're here. That evolution doesn't know it's created us. That the stars don't look down on us, that there is no one who knows about or cares about or supervises our existence. That we have to face this on our own responsibility. All the evidence is that way. There is no serious evidence any other way.
But there is a strong desire that we could abolish and dissolve our responsibility, and just relax and say well, I'm so glad that, as I check out, daddy will be taking care of me.
I don't think it's moral to be preaching that kind of thing, I'm sorry to say, and I think it's positively immoral to be preaching it to people who are ill, suffering and defenseless. I think it's hateful to tell lies to people in that condition.
Q: What would you tell them?
Hitchens: I would not encourage them to delude themselves. And when my turn comes, I won't listen to any rubbish of that kind.
#Christopher Hitchens#sky daddy#fear of death#death#imaginary friends#wishful thinking#responsibility#myth of an afterlife#afterlife#religion#religion is a mental illness
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Eureka Mind: A Journey into Psychology
I am a second-year psychology major who finds myself at a crossroads between my academic interests and the life events that have brought me here.
I was always the one with a million questions as a youngster about why people act, feel, and think the way they do. I clearly remember watching my family and friends, attempting to understand the hidden feelings that lay underneath their smiles or the causes of their sporadic outbursts. I had no idea that these harmless observations would spark my intense curiosity about how the human psyche functions.
Ah, let me take you back to that crucial day when I realised psychology was my passion, the day that changed my life forever. In the eleventh grade, our class had planned a special activity: a showing of "A Beautiful Mind."
(Photo credits to scoopwhoop.com)
I was completely entranced by the nuanced depiction of the complexity of the human mind as I sat there, enthralled by the captivating tale of John Nash, a great mathematician fighting schizophrenia. The film showed Nash's mind's genius as well as the intense difficulties he had while battling his mental illness.
I felt like a stormy sea of emotions in that pitch-black classroom. Not only was the heartbreaking narrative on the screen enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I also came to the realisation that psychology provided a fundamental insight of what it is to be a human—the beauty and the hardships, the brilliance and the fragility.
I was still feeling the effects of the movie days after it had ended. My teacher and I got into debates about how mental illness is portrayed, the complexity of the mind, and the stigma that frequently surrounds mental health. I became fascinated by the idea of learning more and discovering the science underlying our ideas and feelings.
I immediately recognised psychology as my field of study. It wasn't simply a decision about a job; it was also a deeply personal voyage of self-discovery and a resolve to improve the lives of others. I wanted to learn more about the views of famous philosophers like Freud, Jung, and Skinner, as well as the underpinnings of human behaviour.
I came to know and understand that psychology was more than simply a topic as I studied more about it; psychology was a lens through which I could see the world with empathy and understanding. By bridging the gap between what we perceive on the surface and what lurks underneath, it gave me a tool to solve the puzzles of human behaviour.
In my own life, psychology emerged as a guiding light at dark moments. It assisted me in overcoming obstacles, comprehending my feelings, and developing deep relationships with others. Throughout my academic career, I gained an understanding of how important it is for each of us to have good mental health since it is a crucial component of who we are.
I write a blog on this fascinating subject. It's more than simply a blog; it serves as evidence of my passion for psychology and the long-lasting influence one movie had on my life. Through my thoughts and experiences, I wish to inspire others with the same sense of wonder and compassion, inspiring them to delve into the mysteries of the human mind and appreciate the magnificence of our common humanity.
Welcome to my psychological universe, a place full of wonder, empathy, and development. Together, let's set out on this revolutionary adventure to learn more about the mind's mysteries, one tale at a time.
Few of the quote from the movie which I totally adore.
(Pictures credit to Pinterest)
#psychology#dark academia#beautiful mind#psychedlicart#psycology#research#classic academia#qoutes#freud#carl jung#john nash#journal#indian students
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I messed up the post
The other thing I've been studying is people faking 'disassociate identity disorder' they'll make videos like; "my alters have diffrent hand writing!" I'd like to introduce these ppl to some of the patients my analyst trainer was treating. In particular a woman who was molested that upon mention would become entirely catatonic, utterly vacant. And you could do that at will, so she and the other paranoid patient were incredibly fragile, they had a teinues grasp of reality in general. Theres a method of lacans which amounts to redirecting thought patterns, essentially you are redirecting those memories for ; a gesture, putting a stress ball in their hand, etc. Theres a famous case of this, a French woman told lacan the nazis would wake her up at six, and he basically rubbed the side of her cheek, the reason being for the German word for secret police and the French word for gester so gestapo ---> gester. She mentioned decades after she still can almost feel his hand. So the idea being you want her to think gester at 6am.
I don't agree with zizek in so far as he states you should be depressed anxious etc as a result of the society you live under, I completely disagree, you should not feel x y z, you will feel x y z. Assume as a child you walked in on your parents getting dressed, you would be totally horrified, because children aren't really interested in any of that, BUT they are especially horrified by their parents being nude. This is not some "dur dur you want to bang your mom" point, of which freud did not say (dont be retarded) the sexual stages of development are not inherent sexual, except for the one during puberty, it is just describing a child's development over all. For example children who were excessively punished/ scolded during potty training may become analy retentive later in life, which is freuds point that things children experience are often much more traumatic, regardless of said trama is rational. Peoples minds will actually fill in the blank, you could completely make up a trama all in your head, which is not dissimilar to the idea of AI hallucinations.
The oral stage; a new born can't use their hands, they communicate with grunts, cries, and they chew on things. Meaning their main mode of communication or interactions with the world are entirely from their mouths.
But socially western society is schizophrenic regarding children, they simultaneously demand the child has fun & they demand more mature adult behavior from them. Which repressive de sublimation, this sort of inversion of orthodox freudianism, "just do it" amounting to a sort of englishtened hedonism. Diet coke for example, the result of this sort of liberal frame work is coke without coke, liberal tolerance with intolerance etc. A sort of push towards hedonism being placed above all other concerns, but while espousing rhetoric about the downtrodden. It can result in a sort of survivors guilt, which liberal markets have an almost brilliant solution. When you buy coffee, automatically a donation to charity is sort of baked into the final price. Which is precisely what I mean by "coke, without coke.
Désir de la mère etc etc etc etc, Wunsch, désir, there is no true English translations, unless you're content with "wish" being the closest one
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What a year it's been
2022 turned out to be a huge year for the FND community, and I really felt that as someone who's been involved in advocacy for people with FND (and disability justice generally). I'm really proud of what I've been able to bring to the table this year. I also know that I've about reached the limits of what my body can do, and the likelihood of maintaining this pace for longer isn't very high. And that's OK!
So, for no other reason than to enjoy the rearview mirror (and, yeah, ok, to give myself a little pat on the back), here's what I got up to in 2022.
My 2022 Functional Neurological Disorder Projects
Cadenza for Fractured Consciousness: A Personal History of the World's Most Misunderstood Illness - an in-depth essay on the social history and neurobiology of FND, interwoven with passages about the many ways it screwed my life up.
Toronto Western Hospitals' Movement Disorder Clinic website - this is Canada's largest movement disorder clinic. They recently re-did the website, and let me write the info section on FND!
Functional Neurological Disorder: From Witchcraft to Cybernetics - a presentation I gave for the psychiatry department at St. Michael's Hospital in Toronto, and the University of Toronto neurology department. The talk wasn't recorded but here's the slides!
Remapping the Functional / Organic Distinction in Psychiatry and Neurology - this was a neat one-day seminar on the concept of "functional" vs "organic" in medicine (a distinction I don't personally recognize 😜). It was a blast to present there and to learn from a mix of neurologists, psychiatrists, and philosophers who are trying to figure out exactly what it means to have a biological illness, vs a subjective experience, and what is the nature of the overlap?
I offered an argument at this meeting that there is no distinction to be made between "functional" and "organic" - all illness is organic, it's just a matter of figuring out what that organicity consists of, and how its rendered through physiological brain processes into a subjective experience. But there's no illness without biology.
Neurotransmitters Podcast - Dr. Michael Kentris invited me to chat about the stigma people with FND face, what the disorder is, and where medicine should go next to try to improve things. He was a gracious, knowledgeable host and I found myself listening and learning as much as sharing here.
The FND Society Podcast - Dr. Alan Carson invited myself, musician Tom Plender, and neuroscientist Devon Oship (all of us have FND!) to chat about the concept of "conversion disorder." A lively round of dunking on Freud ensued.
FNDS 2022 - This was the highlight of my year.
Katlab's "InME" study: a really cool project being run by Katerina Fotopoulou at University College London. They're looking at how interoceptive training (that is, the accurate sensing and regulation of the internal body) may help with symptoms of FND. I'm on hand as a patient advisor.
AAN's Guidelines project for functional seizures - The American Academy of Neurology creates "Guidelines" that tell neurologists how best to treat various neurological conditions. Until now, no such guideline has existed for FND seizures. I'm excited to be contributing to this one as I hope it'll send a strong signal to neurologists, once it's completed, that it's time to take FND seriously.
The protocol that determines how the project goes forward is open for public comment until Jan 4, if you'd like to share your thoughts!
The Landing Pad - this project is maybe closest to my heart: a "what I wish someone had given me when I was diagnosed" package of resources for understanding FND, and starting the recovery process.
There's more to come in 2023. But I think I can look back with some gratitude and satisfaction at everything that happened in 2022, conscious of the fact that the most impactful projects are things we do together, in teams or communities. Contributing to these projects, bringing whatever I could to them to try to add to the collective effort, was the best I could do. And doing the best I can felt good.
Catch you in 2023!
#fnd#fnd awareness#functional neurological disorder#disability rights#spoon theory#neuroscience#disability
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GUESS WHO’S BACK! this time, with a slightly different take on the prompt 🤣 Bio!Dad Bruce, Siblings Danny and Damian!! I know I said I was going to do twin!Damian, but it just fit better this way I think. I told you this prompt really gripped me, so please enjoy even more words on it!!
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Look. The only excuse Danny can give is that he's tired, alright? He's so, so tired. Matchsticks propping up his eyelids kind of tired. Five quiet seconds away from face planting into the ground kind of tired. Mistake the coat rack for his mom again kind of tired.
Beat this ghost into the ground if he doesn't put him back in his bedroom so he can finish his homework and finally get some sleep kind of tired.
Seriously, what the hell? He'd only just gotten back to his room after souping the fifth ectopus of the night (apparently there was some sort of migration happening and it just happened to coincide with the worst case of homework overload he's had since freshman year) when he was enveloped in a swirling mess of green and deposited in an ectoplasmic cage in some random ghost's lair. It's just not fair! If it doesn't rain, it pours, and the only constant in life is that Danny doesn’t ever seem to have an umbrella.
So, when Danny looks down and sees that he's still clutching his textbook and homework packet to his chest, and then looks around to see a few more cages containing a few more blurry looking people all milling around and banging on the ectoplasm in confusion, sees the ghost up the front in the middle of a monologue that Danny just knows is going to take forever, he does the only reasonable thing he can think of.
He does his homework.
Yes, he knows he's meant to be a hero, he knows he's meant to be helping these people escape, but come on! He's also an overworked high school student with several deadlines and a dwindling amount of detentions he can get before exclusion, so what choice does he really have?
The ghost doesn't even feel all that powerful, maybe on par with Boxy? He's got a sense for these things now—an annoyance metre, rather than his normal ghost sense—and from the weak pulse of ectoplasm surrounding him, the cheesy Sigmund Freud-looking therapist getup, and the very fact that he's still monologuing, Danny just knows. More annoying to deal with than an actual oh-shit-the-world-is-ending kind of problem. He could take this guy in his sleep.
Or, more accurately, he could take this guy on close to three hours of snatched sleep for the entire week.
So, sue him. He's using this time as independent study. He's doing his homework and there's nothing this smarmy, two-bit Doctor Phil ghost can do to stop him.
Actually, please don't sue him, Danny has this all in hand, he promises. As soon as he hears the other hostages make a sound, he'll abandon his homework and he'll soup the guy. Just let him do most of it first, please!
Decision made, Danny settles down and cracks open his textbook. Math time!
Hey, so turns out, math fucking sucks.
It's not long before Danny thinks this whole thing was a stupid idea and he kinda wishes he would just get expelled. Give him something broken and he’ll fix it. Give him a lab and some scrap metal and he’s pretty sure he can build whatever, just like his parents.
Getting these numbers into the right answer, however? Impossible! How in the name of all that is dead is he meant to do this?
He's sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cage, textbook split open and the pages from his packet scattered messily around him, head in his hands, when he hears a knock on his cage. A shiver rolls through him as a rush of ectoplasm powers through the walls, lighting it up in a pale glowing green.
“What? What do you want?” he grumbles, not even looking up. “Because if it’s not an easy explanation for the quadratic formula, I don’t wanna know.”
“Are you doing your homework?” The ghost’s voice is incredulous and Danny can feel him swoop down to the floor to get a closer look, but whatever, he still doesn’t look up. Instead, he focuses on trying to put the numbers into some semblance of order. “You should be concentrating on my game!”
“Oh, man, ordinarily I’d be so into blowing off my homework for whatever game you’ve got cooking, but if I get one more detention I’m pretty sure Mom will actually succeed in killing me and I don’t fancy going through that again, you feel?”
“Excuse me? I don’t think you understand the kind of position you’re putting your—”
“You have to do brackets before multiplication, right? But you’ve got to make it balance on both sides of the equation, so that means I’ve got to… Wait, no, balancing equations is something different, isn't it? Ancients, this is so fucked, where’s my calculator…”
The cage rocks back with the force of the ghost’s fists and Danny has to scramble to keep all of his scraps of paper in some sort of order.
“Dude! What the hell?”
“Answer my question so we can carry on with the game.” The ghost hisses, his face pressed up against the glass walls of the cage.
Danny rolls his eyes. He’s trying to answer his own questions, thank you very much! Perhaps he should just bust out, end this quickly and get back home. At least there he’d have access to the internet—and more importantly, Tucker’s answers. To compare, not to cheat, of course.
“Fine, what’s your question?”
“You weren’t listening? Do you even care about this at all?”
“All I care about right now is finishing my homework and getting back home at least an hour before my alarm goes off. So unless you can promise me that, I'm going to fight you now and finish off my homework in peace."
“Fight me? At least threatening bodily harm is something you all have in common. Please, you’re all stuck in there until this game ends, whether you like it or not.” The ghost sneers against the cage in what he probably thinks is an intimidating display of teeth, but instead just has Danny realising that he’s not brushed his own in two days. He's been so tired, he's not had time. It's still gross, though. “Answer the questions and you’ll be able to go home lickety-split.”
“Yeah, alright, whatever—as long as I get to answer my own questions, too. X doesn’t solve itself, you know.” As much as he wishes it did.
“Fine. I suppose this isn’t a test for you, anyway.”
Okay, well, at least it seems like Danny’s just a pawn and not an actual player in whatever kind of game this is. He’s not sure how he feels about that—actually, scratch that, yes he does. It’s really fucking nice to not be the one that’s one fuck up away from losing everything.
Mind you, he’s still not off the hook for it, yet. Obviously, he’ll still be keeping an ear out for anything going wrong, but what’s the harm in letting it play out a little longer? At least he’ll get some more work done.
“Fine.” Danny parrots. “What’s your question?”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What’s your name?”
“You don’t know who I am?”
Huh. It’s not often that happens anymore. Weird.
Instead of giving him any answer, the ghost just whips around and cackles as he flies off towards the centre of the room. The glow of his cage dies down as the supply of ectoplasm dwindles and he finally takes a proper look around.
“Did you hear that? Did you hear the shock in his voice, did you see the betrayal in his eyes? You don’t know who he is!”
The ghost is swirling around a podium in the middle of the room, mocking the person in a voice that pierces Danny’s eardrums and stabs directly into his brain. Great, he’s entered the blinding headache stage of tired. He squints and rubs his eyes, but the heavy, blurring tiredness doesn’t leave.
He gives up on trying to guess who the hulking figure in the middle is. All he can assume is that he’s the reason they’re all here, what with the five or six other cages surrounding placed facing him.
Look, it’s unreasonable to ask Danny to do maths and hero work, let him just pick one thing to focus on.
“That’s your first point lost, I’m afraid! Let’s keep going, shall we? The questions are going to get a little harder now, good luck…”
With that, the ghost flies over to the first cage and poses another question. “When is his birthday?”
There’s barely any hesitation from the man on the podium who gives his answer as “March 20th,” with a confident growl. It's pretty impressive, to be fair. Danny can’t remember what date his own birthday is half the time, let alone anyone else’s.
To be fair, Danny has two birthdays, so it's doubly hard.
He doesn't forget.
The first birthday, the one he celebrates, is the day he found the Fentons. He tells them he doesn't know his actual birthday and they believe him, so every April 3rd they celebrate the day he came into their lives.
Or, at least, they do in theory. The Fentons aren't great at remembering birthdays either.
He reserves his true birthday for remembering where he came from. For mourning the life he left behind, the family, his brother. And when the day is over, he pushes it aside and carries on with his completely normal life as best he can.
Which is what he’s doing now. Carrying on with his life as best he can. Doing his homework.
When this stupid game finally finishes, he’ll get transported back to his bedroom with his three sheets of (hopefully) correct answers and he’ll get some sleep.
Then he’ll wake up, go to school, and do it all again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as the ghost feeds enough ectoplasm through the first cage so that it lights up just like his did. Immediately, the man inside starts shouting, threatening the ghost with some very creative swearing to let them all go, but Danny just tunes him out because he’s doing what he does best. He's getting on with it.
He swallows and settles back down on the floor, trying to ignore the way his eyes are prickling. Cool. Entering into the “crying way too easily at just about anything” stage of tired. Lovely.
Right. Come on, you can do this. Take a deep breath. It’s just math.
Solve 7x^2 - 25x + 2 = 0 using the quadratic formula. Give your answer to 2 decimal places.
What the fuck.
He keeps an ear out as the ghost goes down the line asking the same question and receiving much the same results. Meanwhile, Danny’s getting nowhere fast.
So, a = 7, right? Which means that b = 25 and c = 2, that’s good, okay, so plug that all into the quadratic formula—wait, shit, b = -25 instead! Does that make a difference?
Whatever, now he has to… fix all the numbers in the formula, so minus minus 25 which is… 0, right? Right. Then it’s all the brackets, so first he’s got to square -25 which is… fuck. Where’s his calculator, did he bring a calculator? How in the hell is he meant to do that in his head?
Danny’s halfway to pulling his hair out when he hears it. The ghost is laughing, congratulating the man on the podium for his three right answers even if it looks like he’s gotten this one wrong, judging by the reaction of the person inside the cage. Danny can’t quite make out what’s happening because all he can see is numbers and, having abandoned squaring -25, a square root that he doesn’t know how to deal with.
So it's understandable that the shout doesn’t quite register to begin with.
“—yal! Danyal!”
But when it does, when the name finally makes it through, he freezes.
It can’t be real.
“Akhi, please!”
It’s not real.
His head whips up to the cage that’s glowing, but it’s too far away, too bright in the darkness, to really make out for certain that… It can’t be. He can’t be here, why would he be here?
Part of Danny really, really wishes he was paying attention to the monologuing.
“Danyal, please, answer me!” The voice is desperate, so, so desperate. Hoarse and wet and thick with tears, a far cry from the confident boy he used to know. The… the only time Danny’s heard his voice like that was when… But it can’t be him. “Let me go, let me see him! Danyal!”
“Answer my question, you little rat!” The ghost growls, face twisting in a snarling grimace that gets him nowhere. Of course it wouldn’t, there's no way that would scare him.
“Danyal! Please, akhi, please!”
It… Oh shit, is it really him?
Danny stands up, his pencil clattering to the floor, and he steps close enough to the glass wall of the cage so that he can reach out and touch it.
He hesitates.
What if it’s a trick? What if he’s in a nightmare dimension and the ghost is actually super powerful and this is all a trap? It’s not a game for the man on the podium, it’s a game made for torturing him—hell, it even had math in it! He hates math!
It can’t be real.
“Danyal, please, let it be you, please be alive, Danyal… Akhi, please.”
He lets his ectoplasm flood the cage, the walls blinding him as he pours in too much, far more than the ghost keeping them captive could ever hope to conjure. He wets his lips, regulates his ectoplasm to a trickle so that the light dims and he can finally see out again, and tries to say something. Anything. His heart is pounding and his mouth is dry.
“Dami?” he whispers, not daring to hope. Then louder, “Damian?”
“Danyal, is it really—”
“What are you doing?” The ghost snaps, taking his hand off of Damian’s cage so that the light dims and he can’t be heard, and shoots over towards him. “How are you doing that?”
Yeah, fuck this. That’s Damian in there, that’s really Damian, and Danny’s not staying in his cage for another second. He takes his hand off the wall and powers up an ectoblast, not even bothering to transform. He’s getting his little brother.
The glass of the cage shatters easily.
He steps out of the cage easily.
He… It’s not quite as easy to walk over to Damian.
It’s even harder to smash it open, so he just stands there, staring. Watching as Damian—and it is, it really is—stands there, too, his mouth moving as he's trying to call out to him but no sound is heard. Danny can read his lips well enough…
Damian sniffs, wipes his eyes and nose on his sleeve, and smiles tentatively. It’s a small, fleeting thing. Unsure. Sad. Hopeful.
“Damian?” He still can’t believe it, it has to be some sort of trick, surely. Still… even if it is, he’ll get to hold his brother again. Even if it’s not real. He smiles back at him and readies an ectoblast. “Stand back.”
And then that stupid ghost fires one straight at him instead.
Damian’s gaze flickers behind him, shouting a warning that he can’t hear, and he turns intangible on instinct. The bolt flies through him, but it’s not even strong enough to break Damian’s cage. Yeah, Danny was right. This guy's just annoying, not even worth the time it'll take to fight him.
“You’re ruining it, you’re ruining my game! You’re… you’re a ghost?”
There it is, there's the realisation, finally. He turns to face him, anger boiling in his veins. Fuck this guy.
“You’re an idiot?”
“Excuse me? How dare you?” The ghost blinks, then puffs himself up, ghostly flames licking up his stupid, ill-fitting suit, still not fully comprehending what’s going on. Not knowing the danger he’s in. “In my own lair, how dare you call me that?”
“I’m not a ghost.” Danny interrupts, ice beginning to creep out from his feet. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I’m Phantom.”
“Wh—Phantom?” Immediately, the ghost loses all of his fire and shrinks into himself. “Oh, Ancients, I’m… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to—”
“And yet, you did. Is this a challenge?”
“Challenge? Cha—no, no, of course not, of course not, I wouldn’t be challenging you, not at all! Here, I’ll just, I’ll… I’ll let everyone out and then you can be on your way, I’m so sorry!”
Danny doesn’t even bother to answer, he just turns back to Damian with a roll of his eyes and—he’s still there, he keeps expecting him to have vanished, for this all to have been a dream, but he’s still there—and he readies another ectoblast.
“Stand back, okay?”
Damian nods and moves away, his eyes flicking between Danny and the ghost behind him with undisguised contempt.
The ectoplasmic glass shatters easily and then Damian is out of the cage and in front of him, just an arms length away.
They stand there for a long minute, watching, neither of them able to make the first move. Danny should probably start explaining some things, right? Ancients, there’s so much, but…
It’s been six years.
Six years without his brother.
Six years of only allowing himself to remember on one day, because otherwise he’d break down, otherwise he’d go back and…
Six years.
“Hey, Dami.” He tries to smile, tries to step forward, tries to do something other than stand there stupidly, but he just can’t.
“Are you… Danyal? Is it really you?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs, but it comes out weak and watery.
He’s definitely in the crying stage of tired now.
“Are you—” his eyes flicker over to the ghost again and Danny knows what he’s going to say with just as much certainty as he knows he’s not going to like hearing it. “Are you alive? Truly?”
He shrugs, puffs out some air in a sardonic grin, and spreads his arms wide. “Depends on how you define it, I guess. It’s… kind of a long story.”
It’s not comforting, from the look on Damian’s face, but then he hadn’t really expected it to be. He couldn’t lie to him, there was never any lying to Damian. Even when they were children together, he always saw through him.
Damian brings his arm up, towards him, but falters before they actually touch. Danny can feel his core twist and he so desperately wants to reach out and bridge the gap, but…
“Can I? Danyal, can—”
Ah, screw this, Danny hugs him.
He hugs him and the solid warmth of his presence, the familiar scent, the feeling of weight, of rightness, of home makes everything truly click for him.
It’s real.
It’s Damian.
Danny clings on tighter and a second later, he feels Damian’s arms circle around him, grabbing fistfuls of his hoodie and pulling it taut in his effort to hold on. Damian’s shoulders start to shake and he can’t help but laugh softly, his heart fluttering in his chest. At least he’s not the only one crying.
“Akhi, it’s really you, it’s really…”
“I’m here, Dami, I’m sorry, I won’t leave again.” He pushes his face into Damian’s shoulder, sniffing against the fabric. Yikes, he hopes Damian won’t be mad at the pretty obvious wet patch. “I promise.”
They stay there for a few minutes longer, clinging to each other, trying to breathe through it, when Danny feels a shifting in the ectoplasm around them. He groans, he just cannot catch a break!
This guy really does not know when to stop, does he? It’s always the weaker ones, too, the ones that have absolutely no hope in defeating him that never know when to bow out gracefully. It’s annoying. If this ghost isn’t careful, Danny will have to update his annoying list and finally move Boxy out of first place. At least he knows when to make himself scarce.
With a sigh, he conjures up a shield just as the ghost lets the blast loose. If he was alone—he’s so glad he’s not alone—he wouldn’t have bothered with the shield at all, but it’s not like he’s going to let Dami get hit.
“You’re really starting to piss me off, you know that, right?”
“You ruined my game! I don’t care who you are, no one leaves until my game is finished!” The ghost—Danny doesn’t even feel bad about not knowing his name any more, this guy sucks—snarls and throws another ectoblast which Danny knocks away with one of his own.
With one last squeeze, he lets Damian go, already feeling the loss of it. Fuck this guy.
“Last chance, let everyone go and I’ll let you go. Call it a thank you for reuniting us.”
“I already told you,” he spits, both his hands glowing with ectoplasmic fire, “no one leaves until the game is finished!”
Danny pushes Damian behind him and pulls a thermos out of thin air, still not bothering to transform. He knocks the ghost back with a strong blast of ectoplasm and soups him before he can do anything but groan.
At least it was over quickly.
"I win."
He throws a smile over his shoulder at Damian and pops the thermos back in the pocket dimension it came from. The ghost can stew in there for a couple days, really think about what he did. It’s just rude.
Then he lifts both his arms up and shoots five ectoblasts in quick succession at each of the remaining cages, finally freeing the rest of the ghost’s hostages. Let them get themselves together while Danny can go back to giving Damian a hug.
It’s been so long.
He goes to grab Damian again, but stops when Damian hisses sharply and pulls his hand back.
“You’re hurt?”
Oh, Ancients, he’s hurt! Did Danny do that? Is it bad, was it an ectoblast? What happened?
Before he can spiral too far, Damian lifts up his wrist to reveal a splint already protecting his injury.
“I sprained it a few days ago, it’s nothing terrible. That’s why I’m me and not, you know.” Damian shrugs and gestures, presumably, to the guy on the podium. Danny has no idea what that’s meant to mean.
“Not what?”
“Not patrolling as Robin. I have been benched until I’m sufficiently healed.”
“Yeah, sure, that makes sense—I’m sorry, wait, what—you’re Robin?” He follows Damian’s outstretched arm towards the guy on the podium and… “Holy shit, is that Batman?”
“Mother never told you?”
“Told me what?”
“He’s our father, Danyal.”
“That’s our… That’s our Batdad? Fatherman? Dadbat? Dad-Dad Bat… man? What?” He shakes his head a little, trying to make some of his thoughts actually connect because nothing is actually making any sense right now. “What the fuck?”
His face burns as he hears the barely stifled laughter coming from pretty much every broken cage. He swivels his head around, eyes wide like an owl, and tries to place the names of the audience he’d forgotten about.
Nightwing—that’s the Nightwing—waves with a cheery grin as he makes his way over to them, and there’s Red Robin with his hand clamped over his mouth, nowhere near successful in silencing his laughter. Black Bat, Signal, Red—is that Red Hood, the crime boss, over there? Holy shit!—all wave at him, too, but mercifully they stay where they are.
Batman steps down from the podium.
“Sorry, I think I missed just about everything earlier. What the hell is going on here? What kind of game was this? ‘How Embarrassed Can We Make Danny?’ Because that’s what it feels like.”
“Nah, but if it's any consolation, you’d certainly be winning that game!” Nightwing laughs as he stops a few feet away from them.
“It was my fault,” Batman says, his voice low and gravelly. He gestures towards the thermos. “He wanted to test my ability as a father. My knowledge of my children.”
“Oh… How did you do?”
“I mean, not great,” Red Hood laughs from behind him. “He didn’t even know who you were.”
“Well, that’s fair, can’t really blame him for that. I’m meant to be dead.” Danny says cheerfully, nodding with a smile that he hopes is reassuring. “I mean, I am dead, but that’s unrelated. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Red Robin asks.
“Don’t worry about it!” Danny waves him away and slings an arm around Damian, just like he used to do when they were young. He feels like he’s buzzing, his core vibrating happily out of his skin, and he’s pretty sure he’s got the goofiest grin on his face. “It’s all good!”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Red Hood says as he picks his way towards them, cutting off whatever Batman was going to say, thank goodness. There’s no way he’s awake enough for a proper, actual conversation about his death(s) and everything that came after them, not at all. “We have bigger things to worry about, after all.”
All of them groan. Guess he’s not the only tired person here.
“What’s wrong now?” Red Robin asks, already pulling up a dope wrist computer that looks slick as hell but obviously isn’t going to work in the Ghost Zone.
Red Hood brandishes a load of papers and turns his head towards Danny. “Danyal here thinks adding 4 and 7 makes 10, which isn’t a great start, but you should actually be multiplying them there, and then multiplying all that by 2, not just… leaving the 2 out? I don’t know what you’ve done with half of this, but it definitely doesn’t make 10 though. I can also tell you that 25 squared is not whatever this squiggle is meant to be. Pretty cool picture of a horse, though, great job on that!”
Danny slumps and hides his face in his hands with a half-hearted sob. He’s so screwed. “It’s meant to be a cat.”
“Oh.” Red Hood turns the paper on its side, tilts his head, then turns the paper upside. “That’s a really crappy cat. Sorry.”
“Do you know how to get us out of here?” Batman asks gently, drawing Danny out of his shame spiral.
“Yeah, that’s not a problem, I can portal us out. At least I’ve got that down.” He rolls his eyes and rubs at the back of his neck with weak laughter. He’s really not making a good impression right now, is he?
“Let’s go, then. If you’d like, I can help you with your homework when we get back somewhere safe.” It’s so weird, Batman sounds so uncertain, not at all like the fearsome crusader he’s seen on the news. And then he smiles, soft and warm, and Danny can’t help but return it. “Damian can help you with the drawing.”
“Yeah… I think I’d like that. Thanks.”
"Let's play a game of 'How well do you know your kids?'" The being shouted, eyebrow still twitching from Robins latest remark.
"I know all my children perfectly." Batman growled at the entity. He held his ground as the spirits (demons?) smile sharpened, "Than you won't mind!"
A puff of purple glowy smoke engulfs then entire area and the next thing anyone knows is that all of Bruces children, even the ones who weren't with them previously, are locked inside magical cages while Batman is trapped in a invisible mime box with a podium and a microphone in what is quite possibly the most garish game show set up ever.
Why was everything neon green and purple? Why was the guy neon green and purple? Who were these other kids-gdi Bruce! You have more kids?
Danny could just transform and beat up the ghost. Its a pretty weak one after all. But this one doesn't seem to recognize him as a halfa and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do his homework without being attacked.
Jason stared at the kid next to him. What kinda life did this kid have to calmly get out his math homework and start solving problems while being held hostage by an unknown entity?! And with the bats no less?!
All the while Batman is getting peppered with questions about his kids and is realizing he doesn't recognize a few of the names.
#dpxdc#prompt fill#my writing#hello hello hello back again two days later with the exact same prompt and another 4500 words!#this brain rot is still consuming me i will never be free of it#but that's okay because i'm making things and it's fun!!!#i'm currently much like danny and very very sleep-deprived - i am making myself laugh so much with danny's poorly drawn cat#i'm sorry danny but cats do not have necks like that you poor poor boy#also i had to learn the quadratic equation for this again - who said you wouldn't use this stuff after school?? me i did it fucking sucks#once again i am a FAKE FAN because i have ZERO IDEA on characters in the dc universe LET ALONE who counts as bruce's children#so you've got this deal with it#again i did not give this poor ghost a name nor a description lmao sorry family therapist ghost#also please imagine: all of the batfam that are actually engaged in the game seeing damian's reaction as soon as danny's introduced#there's a minute where damian is just frozen - trying to comprehend what he's seeing because his brother is meant to be dead#because i love the idea of little baby damian being so clingy just absolutely doting on his older brother#that losing him - that danyal's supposed death - just absolutely breaks him and he can't let himself be close to anyone else especially his#new 'brothers' - they're never going to replace danyal no one can replace danyal! that's what he tells himself while thinking deep down#he can't take another loss like that. getting close to another brother means the possibility of losing another brother#and he can't go through that again#anyway he's fucking losing it in his cage and everyone else is watching damian show way more emotion than he's ever shown before#and they're all so scared and so worried for damian and hearing him shout and plead for danyal when it comes to his turn just breaks their#hearts poor poor little bby bat TT^TT#anyway i hope you all enjoy i'm sorry for going ham on this prompt but then again no i'm not this was fun!!!!#cab writes
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The Art of Seeing - How to appreciate art (Psychology of Things Part 2 of 2)
This is Part 2 of a series on the psychology of things. If you want to get a basic understanding of Mihaly's work you can see Part 1 below.
“It fixed me like a statue a quarter of an hour, or half an hour, I do not know which, for I lost all ideas of time, even the consciousness of my existence.” – Thomas Jefferson on Marius Imprisoned at Minturnae by Drouais
What is good art?
In the ambitious study "The Art of Seeing: An Interpretation of the Aesthetic Encounter", Csikszentmihalyi and his associates analyze how a person experiences and appreciates art. Through the use of questionnaires of art experts, both the reason why we like art, and what we can do to enjoy it more, are explored.
Artist as Neurotic
The connection between the artist and the subject has been analyzed before by another famous Psychologist. His take focuses on the anxiety of the artist's life:
“An artist is originally a man who turns away from reality because he cannot come to terms with the renunciation of instinctual satisfaction which it at first demands, and who allows his erotic and ambitious wishes full play in the life of phantasy. He finds the way back to reality, however, from this world of phantasy by making use of special gifts to mould his phantasies into truths of a new kind, which are valued by men as precious reflections of reality. Thus in a certain fashion he actually becomes the hero, the king, the creator, or the favourite he desired to be, without following the long round-about path of making real alterations in the external world. But he can only achieve this because other men feel the same dissatisfaction as he does with the renunciation demanded by reality, and because that dissatisfaction, which results from the replacement of the pleasure principle by the reality principle is itself a part of reality." ~ Freud On Metapsychology
Mihaly's studies of Flow included people who got into Flow in many activities, including the workplace and in sports, but here he expands farther than Freud. He sees art as something that makes life "richer, more meaningful, and more enjoyable."
The Head and the Heart
The book begins with the conflict between a rationalist intellectual analysis of art, and romantic feelings from the subject. Between rationalism and romanticism, by the end of this study, it finds a common ground where both can not only co-exist, but both the head and the heart can inform each other to increase the pleasure of the viewing subject. Part of the intellectual enjoyment of art is when the artwork starts to give the subject new understandings that were hidden and inaccessible before viewing the artwork.
At other times the subject has a mental model of perfection and the artwork actually achieves it. At it's highest level, art can bring the audience an experience that transcends reality indicating how it could be.
The contribution from the romantic perspective is the sheer beauty emanating from the artwork. When the artwork projects a sense of order out of the chaotic world, it is reflected in the subject with the same pleasurable emotions that the subject gains from mastering the environment in the real world. Order out of chaos creates an emotional harmony in the subject, especially when the subject's emotional needs are met by the artwork or a point of view of the subject is validated.
Different people, different experiences
Because each subject who visits an art gallery is different, artworks will resonate with different people based on their personal life story, their current skill level of interpretation, and the appropriate level of challenge the artwork presents to the subject.
The study says that “the aesthetic experience occurs when information coming from the artwork interacts with information already stored in the viewer’s mind. The result of this conjunction might be a sudden expansion, recombination, or ordering of previously accumulated information, which in turn produces a variety of emotions such as delight, joy, or awe. The information in the work of art fuses with information in the viewer’s memory – followed by the expansion of the viewer’s [awareness], and the attendant emotional consequences.” There are so many moving parts to art appreciation that it can be daunting for the beginner, but this complexity also allows the subject lots of opportunity to grow into the skill.
Art and Flow
To get into Flow while enjoying art creates a lot of challenges for the subject. There has to be an elimination of distractions, a goal of what the subject wants from the artwork, and feedback from the interaction with the artwork. The subject viewing the art also needs some prior skills in interpreting art, without which, the variety of accessible art diminishes.
When the art is really resonating with the subject it can almost go into a religious experience. One participant in the study described an artwork as "so beautiful that you could worship that thing." This is a key to understanding all areas of pleasure in human life and how people rate their experiences. The more competent the experience, the more a subject feels a need to worship it and proselytize it to others.
The Art of Seeing
Under the structure created by Monroe Beardsley (1982), and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (1975), here is the summary of how you can improve your ability to enjoy art:
Fixed attention on activity or object.
Whether you force your attention on an object or it grabs your eye, attention has to be long enough to truly engage an artwork. One participant said, “for attention to be attracted to the object in the first place, a...set of conditions is necessary. The object must contain a set of visual ‘challenges’ that engages the interpretive skills of the beholder.” The artwork doesn't always have to be pleasant at first when it gets your attention. A participant in the study had this to say about Pollack's Number One:
"I was just indignant, furious. And my reaction was very strong - I really was quite convinced that this was a joke. But it was interesting enough that I kept seeing it over time, and by the time I had gone through part of college I was quite enthusiastic about it and I found it very exciting."
youtube
A participant in the study said, "for a certain individual, there will be a reaction in some way. Either you like it or you don't. But you might be taken in by something, it's enough to hold your interest and get you rooted there for a while and start [you] thinking about some other things, places you might be led to from this starting point."
As one engages with an artwork and fixes attention to it, more detail can be gleaned which may make the subject change their mind. Here's another participant's opinion of an artwork:
"When I first saw it I hated it and I thought to myself, 'Hmm, that's interesting. Why do you dislike it?'... And so that's a good reaction to have. To not like something, it's a real reaction. I remember going back to the gallery probably three times during that visit to New York, and forcing myself to look at that work. And the more I looked, the more I found, the more I liked, and the more I wanted to see more of that work."
There is no guarantee that you will like a work if you continually fix attention to it. Another participant made it plain:
"Once in a while I make a bad mistake. I've bought something I thought was beautiful, and then I begin to see an emptiness in it that doesn't get better, it only gets worse."
Many participants felt that great works were "inexhaustible" or "bottomless." When I read this it reminded me of a restaurant I was at where I was reading the book for Part 1 of this series. I was outside on the patio next to the sidewalk. There were very nice fake flowers on the table and a woman was walking past me on the sidewalk. She went greedily to the flowers to enjoy them, but when she got close enough to see the crosshatching, she exclaimed in disappointment "ohhhh there fake!" Like with anything in life if there is not enough depth in mystery, there will be boredom in the subject. Maybe even contempt.
Letting go of concerns about your past and your future.
When absorbed in an artwork, the subject is less likely to be worrying about their past or future. They may compare themselves to the artwork in communication with it, to understand themselves better, but they are not disconnected. Another participant suggested that he needed to be in the "right frame of mind" when looking at works of art. "As long as there isn't a lot of competition for what I'm looking at," whether internal or external, the possibility of an aesthetic experience will exist. "Sometimes," he goes on, "I'll be in sort of a distracted mood and come around the corner and see something that is just so searingly beautiful that it pushes out every other thought." But for the most part, he insists, "I have to gear myself up to look; I have to say 'okay, I'm going into this show or to this exhibition.'" There is an intention to take the art seriously and an openness to "put a part of yourself aside and allow the experience to take place."
Loss of self-consciousness towards the object or activity.
One spoke of Edward Hopper's painting of Nighthawks (1942): "I want to know what those people are doing next; I want to know where they came from and where they're going." This was a way for some of the participants to substitute one reality for another. A respondent felt that the process of visually experiencing a work of art led to a heightened awareness sometimes described as a loss of self or transportation outside the self.
"I think it absorbs, it involves all the senses in a unifying manner. Art is primarily visual, but it heightens your sense of the other, the outside, the thing experienced, and in the process, heightens your awareness of yourself, and even though you're being fully absorbed and transported by an object perceived by the senses, you're losing yourself at the same time you become yourself."
Another respondent said, "very great objects give one a sort of a transcendent experience. It takes you out of the realm of everyday life. You lose the sense of where you are and become absorbed in the object. When that happens, whether it's theater, or looking at art pictures, or reading a beautiful piece of prose, it moves you and transcends you. I think that's part of what art is. It's not common experience, it doesn't happen that often, but it does happen with regularity."
For a work of art to provide an aesthetic experience it must carry a complex load of information for the viewer to unravel. This is why it's possible to go into these Flow states. But as a subject, one has to be able to keep up with the details to maintain that result.
Responding to challenges with adequate skills.
Like a prior respondent said, "I have to gear myself up to look." Viewers must bring their knowledge and training to the encounter with the work of art. Paradoxically, museums have to balance providing the information for the viewer, to bring them up to speed, but not to the level that the viewer is using the guide as a crutch. At some point the viewer has to create their own questions so they can interact with the artwork. Then it becomes enjoyable when the subject is engaging the work themselves. One curator notes, "you can teach how something is composed, categorize it and show where it came from and the importance of the patronage and the personality of the artist and all these different facets," but all of these things, "in themselves wouldn't necessarily make somebody enjoy or appreciate a work of art." What does happen is that "at some point...somehow...people sort of click on, and they suddenly begin to really love the process of looking at a work of art." This dovetails with the need for the subject to have an intention to take the art seriously and eventually go beyond the museum guidance.
A person involved in museum education had clarity of the right balance for museum presentations:
"The challenge of making an audiovisual presentation and putting it in a museum is to take the work of art and find a way of transforming it or abstracting it or doing something with it which makes it accessible to the mind of the person who sees the picture or looks at the sculpture. I think there are very powerful ways that [audiovisuals] can do that. It can open up aesthetic awareness and perception, I think, in ways that are not generally understood, but are very powerful if done well...What I'd do is give them a ten minute audiovisual which takes a whole set of historical ideas and aesthetic viewpoints and all these other things and compresses it into a succinct statement which serves as a transition for the visitor between the neutrality of walking in, to the experience of being engaged with those works of art when they're actually in the show - really thinking in relation to them."
The activity doesn’t need external rewards, they are intrinsically satisfying.
By giving just enough skill to the viewer, they can then use that skill to take ownership of their experience. Hopefully if they have enough enjoyment they will develop skills on their own and practice on their own. Once the subject takes control of their knowledge and measures how well they are doing, they can start taking enjoyable pride in their successful art experiences.
Integrating the experience into the self to expand it.
As the experience is taken in, the subject transcends themselves. The subject is transported into experiences that are different from his or her normal life. Many masterpieces are quite old and time can be transcended when the self merges with an ageless realm of the absolute. By the end of the experience there's a pleasure in how the subject's skills are expanded. Some participants relished their experiences of mastery and accomplishment: "It's conquering the object, having the power over it, not allowing the artist to put something over on you or keep a secret from you. In a certain sense, I hate to admit it, but there is the sense of power, in having an insight, having information."
Literal minded viewers may scoff at the idea that the self is expanded. Yet for human consciousness, emotional reactions based on empathy, information about the artwork and the artist, and the active use of the viewer's imagination, they can help the viewer connect with the artist's point of view and transcend their own.
The Art of Seeing: An Interpretation of the Aesthetic Encounter ~ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Rick E. Robinson: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780892361564/
Part 1: The Meaning of Things: http://psychreviews.org/the-meaning-of-things-csikszentmihalyi-rochberg-halton/
Psychology: http://psychreviews.org/category/psychology01/
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Thanks for the kind words, everyone! I liked working on this project but I got way in over my head and I don't think I'll be able to share much more than what is already translated. But that is still three more chapters to go of this book!
Anyway, I will post my little notes about this chapter. There were also some details that could have been easy to miss, so I'll include them.
Yukari is a better student than Hitomi. It's a new information but I don't think that it's surprising? When she speaks of "Hitomi studying to overtake her" it's possibly supposed to mean this class results chart that they used to (at least if old anime can be taken as a reference) hang outside the classroom for everyone to see. Or simply Hitomi getting better scores/grades since I guess they share them with each other anyway.
I was surprised at how much Yukari believes in Hitomi and encourages her. She also worries about her quite a bit. It kinda confirms the fandom image of her, doesn't it? She's more mature than Hitomi and takes up that role of the "protective older sister". But as it shows in the dragon encounter, Yukari is physically weaker and quite passive in such physically demanding and dangerous situation.
Amano was also more verbose! I mean, Freud?! Who would have thought that he would make that reference and speak of sexual frustration no less? I mean he is 17, if anything, he is speaking about it way too academically but still a little surprise compared to the series where he mostly just seems majime (earnest), especially about running. On the other hand, his antics were more reminiscent of Allen than in the anime, at least to me. His burning sleeve was axed for some reason, as did the dragon's blood that is practically lava or "burning sparks".
I didn't care too much about the extra scene between Van and the samurai, I guess this got replaced by the talk in the armory with just Balgus and Van for the anime. The novel scene is more dramatic but I don't think this was really necessary; Van slashing with sword at his mentors right before his Dragonslaying. Good choice to cut this.
The handle of Van's sword started glowing at some point during the fight, much like the pendant, did you notice? I wonder what the point of that was? Is he supposed to have an energist embedded in the sword? Was it Hitomi's interference somehow, her unconsciously using her pendant to give Van power? Is he using the power of wishes himself? We can only guess. Anyway, the dragon seemed to have taken note of that and switched his attention to Van right after.
There are some dialogue changes compared to the anime but I guess the meaning was largely the same. Most noteworthy for me:
The desserts were different for whatever reason but it seems no less thought was put into them!
Hitomi is just asking Amano for 'a kiss' rather than 'first kiss' but I don't think there's any significance
Van doesn't introduce himself to Hitomi and is for the whole chapter referred to as "the boy", which I'm kinda okay about? I mean it's a dramatic situation so no time for full introductions, right? Makes him a little bit more mysterious... for a while, anyway.
Van actually admits Hitomi helped him out! His thanks is super rude but it's there... compared to the series where he says Hitomi "didn't help him slay the dragon". I think they may have been trying to make him more deserving of the slap in the series. Or maybe play his insecurity a bit more?
Escaflowne Novels: Book 1 Part 1 (EN)
As I mentioned, I'm going to share all that I've translated of the Escaflowne Newtype Novels. The first part of the series novelization can be read on the link below. It includes the prologue and chapter one of the first light novel which is titled simply "Escaflowne". Sorry for any mistakes, I decided to just start posting it as it is. Title picture is edited from the novel cover illustration by Hiroshi Osaka.
READ HERE
#I had this typed out from before Christmas so I'm finally posting it#I had planned to post the next chapter way sooner but I got some health issues for a long while and in general I'm not feeling great#to sum up (if it's not obvious from my online “activity”) I practically burned out as an artist a writer and most recently as a translator#I feel like I maybe want to (besides irl stuff) catch up with some passive offline stuff like watching anime or maybe vidya#so I apologize but I will remain antisocial for a while longer#but I will post the next chapter of novel 1 in a week... or so let's hope
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Camellia and Daisy
flower asks!
camellia: i've always dreamed of visiting australia and italy since i was like 5. i want to see the sydney opera house and the beautiful beaches, i just feel this paradisiac feeling every time i look at pictures and see documentaries of australia. i feel like i'm meant to go there, it's something i have to do in this lifetime, like i'm supposed to. i also really want to tour pompeii, i've always been fascinated by it and it's actually one of my special interests/hyperfixations. i collect books, documentaries, artwork and replica jewelry, etc. and i've cosplayed cassia from the film pompeii (2014), i've gone to museum exhibitions, etc. and i'm just fascinated with ancient rome. i'm also part italian also i need to have my lizzie mcguire move moment, haha. i'd also love to see where the blue lagoon was filmed on turtle island in fiji.
daisy: my greatest accomplishment was making it this far lmao my senior project before graduating university with my bachelor's degree in english. it's not the education or the merit or the stupid piece of paper, but the fact that i got to bring my passion into my experience and dedicate my time as a student to my passion with no rules and i got to make it entirely my own and put my heart and soul into it. i wrote a huge paper on a deep character analysis of billy hargrove (stranger things), the most hated but truly misunderstood character on the show to defend him and explain that he wasn't a bad person. he was a deeply complex character who had been an abuse victim his whole life and reacted in such extreme/alarming/unhealthy ways from a place of trauma. i did my heavy research with a psychological approach, quoting and including excerpts from psychology professionals and studies on the long-term effects in abused children, using freud's psychological coping mechanisms with textual examples from "runaway max". i included detailed passages where billy was being beaten bloody by his father, tense moments of microaggressions that built up, insinuations, the description of a physical attack that wasn’t seen but heard, the constant threats, how nobody knew what happened behind closed doors except for max, how billy was unfairly regarded as a "monster" when the real one was his father just because he wasn't a sweet, sugar coated soft boi. i wish i could share it here because i nailed it, the information i delivered and the way i was able to make such strong points... i did it. i slayed. i blew them all away. i could have single handedly converted antis with this. either way, i proved them wrong in their hatred and even used the duffers' actual screenplay to reveal billy's true colors and that he was a hero, with the valuable and positive traits people are blind to because they only take him for the negative moments at face value. the class showcased their senior projects at a ceremony, and one girl came up to me and said she hated billy because "he was (....ist, ...ist, blah blah blah, you know what they say)" and i told her "well, that's why i chose this as my project so hopefully others can reevaluate him in a different light and appreciate him." and she walked away. not one of my snotty classmates even stopped to look at my beautifully done posterboard, which was honestly better looking than the rest of them (they just slapped lined paper on theirs, bare minimum) and i didn't care what those uppity, cliquey, preppy little brats thought because i got to make the biggest and most critical assignment of my college experience about something close to my heart. billy hargrove is my favorite character of all time because not only is he deep, multi dimensional and complex, but he's raw and authentic, unapologetic in his emotional intensity and he's just trying to survive an abusive parent. all things i can personally relate to.
i didn't care about the grade or any of that (even though I got an A+), this was a project that came to fruition out of pure love and the fire i have for pop culture and my fandoms. i finally got to apply that to my life and my current role, and i enjoyed every second of it and the powerful impact it had. i am still so very proud of it and have the posterboard in my room, i'm keeping it forever. dacre montgomery himself would be proud of me. i'm proud of myself and love that i had the chance and the time and creativity to do that, especially with the chronic limited energy and fast burnout that i have.
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Chapter 14
WC: 958
Rated: E
Chapter Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, age difference, mentions of professor/student relationships, language
A/N: and I oop
🧠
"Wait-wait, Kreizler kissed you?" Bitsy is sitting next to you on your bed. She tried to refrain from interrupting while you explained what had happened that evening in his office. You must not have been totally clear in your words; hell, you weren't even making sense inside your own head right now.
"No, Bits. He didn't. And then he told me to leave."
She studies you for a second. "And did you… want him to kiss you?" she asks with hesitation.
"I-" you begin. You were supposed to dislike him, to be friendly for the sake of work at best. He was still the self-centered and arrogant man you first met underneath everything, even if your relationship had improved the last three or so weeks. But when you consider Bitsy’s question only one word comes to mind: yes. God, you did want him to kiss you there on the floor of his office.
You aren't sure when things changed. It was like seeing a photograph that you have no memory of being taken, but was undeniably you in the picture. It was a puzzle piece finally being put into place. A light illuminating a dark room. A freight train at full speed. Maybe Freud was right when he said our dreams can tell us the things we don’t even know that we want yet; can tell us what we need.
"I did want him to," you admit softly, both to Bitsy and to yourself.
Bitsy wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her chest. "You know - I'm really not surprised. I mean I won't lie, I still predicted hate-sex over this but… you’ve been acting different since Chicago. You’ve seemed a lot happier.” In a lighter tone she adds “and we both know he’s your type. Older, intellectual, has a steady job, dark hair and a nice beard, and he’s got your standard ‘dad-bod’.” You laugh into her neck. You know she’s right, he checks off all your boxes. If he hadn’t been so off putting the first time you met you would have definitely developed your crush on him sooner.
A crush?
No.
It was so much more than that. Never in your life had you felt this sort of unrestrained passion and connection to another person. He drove you fucking nuts in every sense of the word. Everytime he spoke you hung onto his words like they were oxygen. You wanted to both rip him to shreds and rip his clothes to shreds. But more than anything, you wanted him to do the same. To absolutely destroy you in every sense of the word. In all honesty you had thought he was thinking the same thing based on the way he had looked at you. The way he had been increasingly kind to you, considerate to you, open to you. The way his touches and gazes lingered.
But he didn’t.
Anger wells in your chest. You pull back from Bitsy. "And that's the fucking problem." You let out an exaggerated growl in frustration. "He could've done it, we were right there and the moment was perfect and I just. Ugh!"
You stand up and pace on the worn carpet. “He does these little things now. He asks me for my thoughts but like he actually wants to hear them, not because he’s trying to pick a fight. And he brings me tea in the mornings sometimes when he gets it himself. He’s invited me to hang with his friends and they’re so welcoming and funny. He- he told me about his childhood. And I told him about…” you trail off. She knows what you refer to regardless. “We have these moments where I look up and he’s already looking at me, but it’s so soft. He even paid for the trip with his own money because he wanted me to go.”
Bitsy just listens to your rant. You pause before slumping on the edge of the mattress. “Maybe… maybe I was wrong? Oh my god what if he thinks I’m some freak now trying to come on to their professor? Fuck - it’s no wonder he wanted me to leave! Shit.” You drop your head into your hands.
Your roommate rubs your back. “Look, I’m sure everything will blow over in the next couple days. He might’ve just been afraid to take that step, or maybe you did just misread the situation. He can either grow a pair or he can get over himself. And if he doesn’t have feelings then so what, fuck him, you can do better than a guy that made you miserable for months.”
A couple of deep breaths calms you down. She’s right. Everything was so sudden today that maybe it just caught him off guard. You know you were beyond unprepared for that to happen. And logically, if he doesn’t feel the same pull then you would be fine. You are his aide and technically a student at the university anyway, it’s likely an off-limits territory for him. Both of you are adults and can be professionals. You didn’t need to plague yourself with it.
“Thank you, Bits. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” With another hug she left you to your devices for the night.
The following morning you woke up as usual to get ready to head to his office. Checking your phone you saw that you had a text from the man in question:
Laszlo: I will not be in need of an assistant for the remaining duration of the term. Thank you for your help, it has been invaluable. Best wishes with your studies.
x Dr. Kreizler
You could almost feel your heart fall into your stomach. “Shit, I fucked up….”
Tag list
@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff
#the interpretation of dreams#laszlo kreizler x reader#laszlo x reader#laszlo kreizler#daniel brühl#daniel bruhl#the alienist#the alienist angel of darkness#laszlo kreizler fanfic#daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler#daniel bruhl fanfiction#scuttle-buttle
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Friend of a Friend (Dr. Laszlo Kreizler)
This is my first ever request! Thank you very much for sending this in @laurentrvn I hope you like it🥰
Request: would you do Laszlo x fem!reader
Reader was working on Howard Detective Agency. John Moore would like to invite you for dinner, want to expect to see his friends too. later reader was getting ready for dinner, John would like Reader to meet Doctor Kreizler, they get to know each other. they quite bit closed to each other. (fluff)
I usually try (I don't always succeed, but I always try my best) to keep the reader as neutral as possible so that really everyone can read my fics and feel included, but this time there will be mentions of reader's gender and reader wearing a dress.
I also tried to do this as best as I possibly could, I just didn't really know how to make fluff happen after the first meeting, so I added a few things 😅😊
Writing my requests takes me a while since I'm not exactly a very fast writer, I hope you understand :)
Warnings: none, if there is anything you think deserves a warning please lmk so I can add it here
Word count: 3094 words
The day started off pretty normal for you. There was some paperwork for you to do, a few reports to fill out and Miss Howard had asked you to go fetch a piece of evidence or rather a drawing from one of her friends. From John Moore to be exact. You had met him now and then and even exchanged a few words with him, seeing as he often assisted Sara in her cases, his reports in the papers have brought in new clients to the company on more than one occasion. It was a win win for both sides. People read his stories about the cases he assisted on because they were exciting and in exchange the Howard Detective Agency gained popularity and another pair of helpful hands for their cases.
It was early afternoon when you made your way to the meetup point, said meetup point being a simple, small, wooden bench in a park. You looked around, but John was not in sight just yet. You were probably just early, that must be it. With your thoughts drifting around your head and focusing on the current case you sat down on the bench to wait for the man. It was mere minutes later that you saw a flash of brown from the corner of your eyes, so you turned your head in the direction. It was John. He sat down next to you as you flashed him a smile "Good day, Mr. Moore." He smiled back at you "Good day to you too, but you can just call me John." "Well, I suppose you may just call me (Y/n) then." John gave you a small nod before his eyes switched back to the notebook in his hands, holding it between the two of you he opened it up. You stared in amazement at the drawings as the gentleman next to you skimmed through the pages until he finally reached the illustrations he was searching for. When he found them he was quick to tear them out and hand them to you "You're very talented." you muttered under your breath as you examined the pictures, but it still reached the man's ears "thank you, though I have to say, I prefer drawing other things..." he paused for a moment "scenes that are less brutal and capture the beauty of the world and its people." The answer you received made a small grin grace your lips "It's good to see that there are still optimistic people like you out in this world. Maybe next time we meet you could show me some more of your work." You nodded your head slightly in thanks for the pictures and as a way to bid him goodbye, as you rose from your seat on the bench "Good day, Mr. Mo- John." you quickly corrected yourself before turning around to make your way back to the office. However, John's voice caused you to stop and turn on your heels "(Y/n)! I could show you more of the drawings. How about dinner this Friday at Delmonico's?"
The question had caught you completely off guard, you had not expected to be met with...well, what even was this proposal of his? A flirt attempt maybe? Heat crept up your neck and wandered further to your cheeks "I- umm...all due respect Mr.- John, I don't think that is such a good idea. I'm afraid you aren't quite-" Your rambling was promptly cut off by John "Oh dear god. That is not what I meant" he chuckled, was he trying to talk himself out of a rejection with humor or was it really a misunderstanding? "Oh my, if it was a misunderstanding it would be so embarrassing." you thought "What I actually meant, was to invite you to join and meet a few of Sara and I's mutual friends. Besides I'll be a married man and a father to be soon" The tension in the air dissolved slightly, leaving you with a feeling of embarrassment and a slight stutter in your speech "Oh- I-I'm sorry. I completely misunderstood the meaning of what you proposed." "It's alright, now do you have time on Friday, my friend?" he chuckled, slightly easing your embarrassment a little. In response you just nodded your head again and gave him a smile "I'd like that, thank you. Goodbye again, John" You heard Mr. Moore wishing you a good day in return as you began walking away, trying to clear your head from the awkward encounter and clasping the sheets of paper in your hand, you made your way back to the agency.
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The days leading up to Friday passed more quickly than you would have liked, but there was nothing you could do about it really.
Soon, you found yourself in front of your mirror as you touched up your hair a bit. Just when you were done getting ready you heard a knock on your front door, it was probably John, seeing as it was already getting close to 7 pm. You had received a letter from him the day after he invited you to dinner, informing you that he would pick you up at your home at 7 pm to accompany you on the way to the restaurant you were going to.
Finding your reflection once more, you brushed your hands over the elegant fabric of the dress you were clad in, in order to straighten it out a bit before examining yourself again. With a nervous exhale you cast your gaze away from the mirror and towards the door, your feet quickly following your eyes as your hand reached for the keys in the lock. With a quiet clinking noise, that could be heard on the other side of it, you unlocked the door and took a deep breath, hoping the awkwardness from your last meeting had subsided by now. As you opened it you were met with the face of John Moore, flashing him a polite smile as you exchanged greetings. "I hope it won't come as a problem to you if you meet one of my good friends even before we reach the restaurant" You raised a questioning eyebrow at the man before you "He has offered to take us to the restaurant in his carriage instead of having us walk by foot or paying for one" John explained. His explanation made your eyes widen in surprise. His carriage?! That person you were going to meet had his own carriage?! You gave a nod to John, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about your dress. Was it elegant enough for this occasion? You hoped so. "That is very kind of your friend" you said as you stepped out of the comfort of your cozy home and onto the streets of New York. You made sure you carried everything you would need with you before you locked the door to the house. "I need to warn you though, Laszlo can often times be a little..." John paused, thinking about how to describe the alienist as you turned around to look at him "...eccentric" Once again, you cocked your eyebrow and just as you were about to speak up again, you found your eyes wandering to a carriage that promptly came to a halt right in front of you. In anticipation of meeting John's friend, you watched as the door to the carriage opened and mere seconds later a cane emerged, followed by the well dressed man it belonged to. He smiled as he approached the two of you so he could greet you both, but ended up getting pulled into a hug by John in the process. When he finally got to you he shook your hand, you couldn't help but notice how gentle and light his grip was compared to those of other men, you made eye contact with the stranger as he introduced himself "I'm doctor Kreizler, but seeing as you're a friend of John you may call me Laszlo" His hazel eyes were captivating and his voice smooth, you noticed a bit of an accent "And you are, miss?" Laszlo asked, pulling you back from your trance an amused smirk on his lips. Oh god. Had you been staring? "(L/n). (Y/n) (L/n)" you rushed out. "It's nice to meet you Miss (L/n)." You smiled softly at him "Likewise...oh and (Y/n) is fine, no need for the formalities." The doctor returned your smile and for a moment you just looked at one another, none of you able to break the eye contact, it was as if you were enchanted, enthralled by those dark eyes of his and for Laszlo the feeling was mutual.
Well, until John broke the trance that is "Well then, shall we get on with our trip to dinner?" Your face grew warm as you finally snapped out of it and realized what you had been doing. A sheepish smile still graced your lips when you entered the carriage and it stayed until you arrived at the restaurant. You watched Laszlo and John make conversation in the carriage, they truly seemed to be good friends. "Laszlo, how was Europe? You only came back home a couple of days ago, right?" Now, that conversation topic peaked your interest, your eyes switched between the two men as you listened intently. "Yes, I only returned the day before yesterday. Vienna was beautiful, I could tell you many things about Freud, the people I met and the new studies I came across, but I doubt you are interested in all the information about psychology, John." John chuckled "Right you are" before he could say anything else the carriage came to a stop and the three of you got out in front of the restaurant.
It turned out that you were actually the first to arrive, the rest pooling in a couple of minutes later. The dinner was fun and interesting, you learned new things about everyone who was there and to your surprise, there came a point where you were flooded with compliments for the exceptional detective work you did. Needless to say, these compliments had you flustered. Laszlo seemed to notice your slight discomfort with all the attention on you, so he started talking in order to relieve you from that embarrassing feeling. You flashed him a grateful smile and mouthed "thanks", to which he just smiled and gave you a nod in reply.
The rest of the dinner went smooth and you learned many new things about the doctor and of course about his most recent research and travels. One could say you got along with one another quite well, he was a bit different from other men, more straightforward and very curious about everything, but you wouldn't say one needs a warning before meeting him, like the one John gave you. The evening went by rather quickly and before you knew it you were back in the carriage, sitting opposite of Dr. Kreizler. John however, wasn't there with you now, it seemed he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the alienist and favoured walking home on foot. He was an adult who could make his own decisions and if he preferred walking home then so be it.
The ride in the carriage was nice, you never ran out of conversation topics and at some point you came to the realizisation that you quite enjoyed Laszlo's company.
In the days pursuing the dinner, you often caught yourself thinking about him, wondering if and when you'd meet the doctor again, and every time you did, a smile made it's way onto your lips.
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The following weeks seemed quite boring, until a new case rolled in that is. You had looked over the paperwork and the crime scenes of the case and did your best to put yourself into the criminal's shoes. In order to find them you needed to find a motive as to why someone would commit such horrid deeds. After days on end of trying to solve this mystery you finally found something. A break in the case maybe. As soon as you realized what you had just discovered, you jumped up from your chair and practically sprinted to Sara's office, in your excitement it seemed that you completely forgot all your manners. You knocked on the door, but before you even got a reply from the other side, you had opened it "Sara! I just found something! We got a break in the-" and that was when you saw him again. Laszlo Kreizler.
Sara's and his eyes were both trained on you, causing your excitement about the progress in the case to subside as you flashed them a sheepish smile "Apologies. I-I should have waited I'm terribly sorry." Laszlo smiled at you "Good day to you too (Y/n)" His greeting caused heat to rise to your cheeks. You even forgot to greet him.
After a few moments of silence the doctor spoke up once more "Please do continue, Miss Howard was just filling me in on the case anyways and it seems like you just made progress in solving it. I would like to know everything you found out as of right now"
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The case had brought the two of you closer together. A lot closer actually.
You found yourself in front of your mirror once again, this time wearing the prettiest dress in your posession. You smiled at your reflection when you heard a knock at the door, only this time it wasn't your friend John who had knocked to bring you to dinner with friends. No. This time it was Laszlo Kreizler who stood on the other side of the door and instead of just dinner he would take you to the opera and to dinner later, then he'd bring you back home, well at least that was the plan.
When you opened the door to your home you were met with the man you had been thinking about nonstop. You smiled at him as your (e/c) eyes met his hazel ones and once again the man had you starstruck. The eye contact was intense and it reminded you of the time you first met him. "Good evening (Y/n)." hearing your name fall from his lips made you feel all giddy and happy "Good evening to you too Laszlo."
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You struggled to focus on what you were supposed to be doing the whole evening.
You did enjoy visiting the opera, but with Laszlo being there it felt like the spotlight was shining solely on him. Instead of watching what was happening you put your focus on him, watching his eyes light up and the excitement clearly visible on his face was much more interesting than the opera, well at least in your opinion. Whenever Laszlo would glance at you he had this smirk adorning his lips, he probably knew you were staring, seeing as you most likely weren't as subtle about it as you wanted to be. You smiled softly at him before shifting your focus back to the opera, in these moments you felt his eyes on you too.
During dinner you spent more time looking at him than at the menu, so when the waiter asked for your orders you just went with what he had chosen. That earned you an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow. Oh he was definitely aware of how smitten you were with him, he had to be. The whole evening you felt nervous and full of joy. What you didn't know was that Laszlo was just as nervous as you were, the difference was that he just knew how to hide it better than you did.
Only when dessert arrived did you notice him getting more nervous, a slight blush was visible on his cheeks. It certainly was a sight to see the normally so composed doctor become flustered, an adorable sight that only had you falling harder for the man. As soon as he spoke up though, it was your turn to get flustered. "(Y/n). We have known each other for quite a while now and..." he stumbled upon his words a bit and that just had the anticipation you felt, about what he was going to say, growing with every second "I sincerely apologize if I misinterpreted anything, but I noticed that... well, I know that I have taken a strong liking towards you and from what I picked up on, this liking seems to be mutual" his confession caused you to choke on your food and you tried to hold back a coughing fit, instead of giving in to the cough you took a sip of your drink as to soothe your throat and tried to calm your breathing. You also tried to calm your now very rapid heartbeat, but failed miserable at that. Laszlo's eyes widened slightly and a hint of sadness and regret seeped into his features "I'm terribly sorry, it seems I misinterpreted your feelings. It would have been a miracle if someone like you had reciprocated my feelings like that" He was about to stand up and grab his walking stick, but you immediately shook your head and gripped the cane first, in order to keep him from leaving "Laszlo, you didn't misinterpret anything" you felt the heat travelling through your body as your nerves and hartbeat were as strong as ever. The alienist was shocked to hear your response. He looked at you expectantly, waiting patiently for you to continue as he felt his own heart beating in his throat. You swallowed taking all your courage together to speak up again. "I was simply surprised to-to hear you say these things, I'm not surprised you picked up on my feelings for you" you chuckled awkwardly "I just didn't expect you to feel the same way and to adress it like that." Laszlo let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and brought the hand that had been reaching out for the cane back to the table. You copied that last movement also letting go of his cane. However, as soon as your hand was back at the table he reached his good hand out to hold yours, a grin on his lips "May I propose a courtship then?" Your eyes went wide as you beamed back at him "Yes!- I mean...yes, I'd like that very much" Your answer earned you a chuckle from the good doctor.
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"I'll have to thank John for introducing us"
Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives (you asked to be added to this even though you don't even like or know him, I'm just reminding you it's not my fault that you're tagged here), @stanknotstark @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief
#laszlo kreizler fanfic#laszlo kreizler imagine#laszlo x reader#dr. laszlo kreizler#laszlo kreizler x y/n#laszlo kreizler x you#laszlo kreizler x reader#dr laszlo kreizler x reader#laszlo kreizler#daniel brühl#the alienist#the alienist x reader#the alienist imagine#luna writes#luna's requests#daniel bruhl
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Russian Fairy Tales Review: Freudian Psychoanalytical Criticism
Sigmund Freud (1856-1939)
- Austrian neurologist who founded talk-therapy method called “psychoanalysis”
- Carl Jung’s mentor
Published: - Interpretation of Dreams (1899) - Psychopathology of Everyday Life (1904) - Jokes and Their Relation to the Unconscious (1905) - Civilization and Its Discontents (1930)
Major ideas:
- Most mental processes are unconscious. Thus, we are largely unaware of our own motivations/drives. (still considered valid)
- All human behavior (including infant behavior) is motivated by sexuality and the libido. (not considered valid anymore)
- Many of our desires and memories are repressed by the force of our culture’s taboo on sexual matters. (considered semi-valid, probably not as important as Freud thought)
Why do we continue to study Freud’s ideas if we believe some of them are wrong?
- He was very influential in psychology, so not discussing his ideas would leave a huge gap in that history.
- He’s an object of fascination for humanist scholars.
- He was a skilled literary and art critic.
- He was a major influence on the 20th century public’s self-conception and his ideas still permeate in pop culture.
Freud’s Model of the Mind
Bruno Bettelheim (1903-1990)
- Born in Vienna to a secular Jewish family; (allegedly) earned an art history PhD at Vienna University.
- Survived death camps of the Holocaust (1938). The Rockefeller Foundation sponsored a wartime project to help resettle European scholars by circulating their resumés to American universities, and this led to Bettelheim getting a job at University of Chicago as a research assistant.
- Published “Individual and Mass Behavior in Extreme Situations” (1943) about his experiences in the death camps. This paper was highly regarded, but based on unlikely claims and shaky academic credentials. Regardless, he was appointed professor of psychology at the University of Chicago and director of a school for emotionally disturbed children. He held both positions from 1944 until his retirement in 1973.
- Published The Uses of Enchantment (1976), an application of Freudian thought to the interpretation (and use) of fairy tales. Bettelheim suggested that traditional fairy tales, with all their darkness, allowed children to grapple with their fears in symbolic terms.
More and more controversies have come to light since Bettelheim’s death. Not only are there credible accusations of plagiarism against him, and the aforementioned concerns about his academic credentials, but he also abused his emotionally troubled students. Even if Bettelheim’s use of corporal punishment *was* in keeping with the standards of his time, as some claimed, it is still wrong, and a man who wrote so respectfully of children’s needs for autonomy and dignity knew better.
In addition to the damage he did personally, his advocacy for the idea that autism has origins in early childhood events or trauma (as opposed to being a genetically inherited neurotype) has done enormous damage. Bettelheim believed that autism did not have an organic basis, but resulted when mothers withheld appropriate affection from their children, and/or when the fathers were absent or weak. While he did not coin the term “refrigerator mother” (that dishonor belongs to Leo Kanner), Bettelheim did a lot to popularize the term. His school was intended as a residential treatment environment for children whom he felt would benefit from a “parentectomy.”
“I have nothing personal against Bettelheim, if it is not personal to resent being compared to a devouring witch, an infanticidal king, and an SS guard in a concentration camp, or to wonder what could be the basis of Bettelheim's statement that 'the precipitating factor in infantile autism is the parent's wish that his child should not exist.” - Molly Finn, who loves her autistic daughter and is not about the bullshit [source: https://www.firstthings.com/article/1997/06/006-in-the-case-of-bruno-bettelheim]
Finally, Bettelheim *deep sigh* blamed Anne Frank and her family for their own deaths due to not owning guns, fleeing, or hiding more effectively. I’m not making this up; here’s the direct quote: “Everybody who recognized the obvious knew that the hardest way to go underground was to do it as a family; that to hide as a family made detection by the SS most likely. The Franks, with their excellent connections among gentile Dutch families should have had an easy time hiding out singly, each with a different family. But instead of planning for this, the main principle of their planning was to continue as much as possible with the kind of family life they were accustomed to.”
You might ask, “Lee, why are we still studying THIS guy?” Well, he managed to fool everyone during his lifetime for a reason: he was a talented writer, a charismatic speaker, and he had seen some shit. That gave weight to his ideas about the human psyche.
What do fairy tales DO for us? Why are folk fairy tales so valuable in the upbringing of children?
- The folk fairy tale helps the child to develop their psyche.
- The tales aren’t explicitly didactic; they work on an unconscious level.
- Different kinds of tales address different developmental issues.
A child can absorb different lessons from a tale depending on their developmental stage.
Fairy tales represent normal, healthy development AND make that process appealing for the child. Parents and cultural heritage are the main methods through which children find meaning and maturity.
Finding meaning in life is our biggest struggle. It’s considered the mark of full psychological maturity, and it’s the goal of logotherapy (developed by fellow Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl, who was a lovely man with no “controversy” section in his Wikipedia article).
Fairy tales take our “existential anxieties” very seriously, unlike most modern children’s literature (a dubious claim; Go Ask Alice had been published five years earlier).
Problems with this Approach:
- It’s based on Freudian thought, which many psychiatrists have discredited (although literature and theory circles still find Freud relevant).
- It assumes that fairy tales are primarily intended for an audience of children, which is anti-historical.
- It’s ignorant of the children’s literature canon.
- It neglects to consider that parents are not reading these tales to their children in their original forms. What kind of hipster brings out the leather-bound Perrault when they’re asked for a bedtime story?
Bettelheim on “Youngest Child” Tales:
- The youngest child is third, a number with which the child reader identifies (Mommy, Daddy, me; Parents, siblings, me)
- The child sees themselves as incompetent (particularly during the anal stage) and fears that they will never mature.
- These tales teach children that independence and maturity will come through proper behavior.
#blanket trigger warning#blanket tw#abuse#ableism#psychoanalysis#psychosexual development#freudian theory#bettelheim#Russian fairy tales#my notes#study blog
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I keep imagining Will being married to a therapist when the series starts and just not seeing Will as this case study. Like Jack comes to you first like ‘hey so your husband…’ I feel like it would be a therapist/psychologist face off with Hannibal about wills treatment.
I just have many feelings about Will graham. So very many feelings. Most soft and fluffy others spicy and warm and some pure heart wrenching angst.
Todays are fluffy soft boys like I imagine all of wills dogs feel. I want to pet them all and I’m sad I can’t. Also want to know all the other puppers names. Like we got two of the original pups names the whole series, Winston and buster, and honestly I am upset they didn’t give us a scene of Will introducing Hannibal or who ever to the pups. Just
“Uhhh this is Dali, Edison, Sherlock, jung, and Freud. I was in a weird place naming them”
I also wish we got the other dogs names!!! Honestly I feel like he so often got dogs that they couldn’t really fit it into the plot to explain lol. There could be a whole side episode about every event where he picked up the dogs.
I also constantly have thoughts about Will Graham, he’s a big guy on this blog lol I adore him so much and the ideas surround him and Hannibal cause they’re so compelling.
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You have said that you thought that “some critics overstate the concept of childhood in the story” and that Catherine and Heathcliff are not eternal children. What do you think about the concept of “childhood” in Wuthering Heights? In many ways this is a novel that is so preoccupied with childhood and attachments made in childhood, despite the main characters not being children for most of the book. Is there a distinction to be made between the actual depiction of the childhood of the main characters and the nostalgic conception of their childhood they later have?
I have read a review of the book that said that 5-year-old Hareton’s interaction with Nelly in Chapter 11 is unrealistic and reveals that Emily Bronte didn’t really know children unlike Anne Bronte who worked as a governess. I personally think that she was talented in depicting childhood rivalries, friendships and woes, Chapter 7 of Wuthering Heights is the proof of that.
This is a pretty big topic so I think I’m just going to ramble and explore the topic and see where it leads so I apologize in advance if this is unreadable hah.
For reference, this stems from this conversation, in which I mentioned how Catherine and her daughter both proudly view themselves as mature women and you mentioned how easy it is to forget that Catherine does try to take on difficult, grownup, responsibilities in planning how removing Heathcliff and herself from Hindley's dysfunctional household.
As I said I do think the concept of childhood has a big impact on the story and it is easy to remember moments such as Catherine’s utterance of how she wishes she was a girl again, and her appearance as a child ghost feels not without significant meaning. Many critics have fixated on this and have led them to make a few assumptions. There have been connections made with Freudian child psychology, pathology, and narcissism, or sometimes is developed into theories around Heathcliff and Catherine’s relationship and them having a twin soul in part because of their childhood bond and likeness. Still, I think these narratives give too much weight to the symbolism of childhood in the novel by not mentioning the moments that Catherine and Heathcliff display a grown-up understanding of things, or have wishes and desires that aren’t infantile or nostalgic.
Catherine is typically the character associated with childhood and childishness. Catherine’s anxiety about her choice between Edgar and Heathcliff is partially associated with her distress at life beyond her childhood and while that could be pathological as some critics state, including Marielle Seichepine in her essay Childhood and Innocence in Wuthering Heights. She argued this shows her narcissism and demonstrates Freud’s ideas on the "perversity of the infant.” I’ve written a long post about why I disagree with her here, so to save time I won’t repeat all of that.
Another reason why I think Catherine is sometimes viewed this way is because she dies at 19, which many people today consider to practically be a child. For all of Heathcliff’s longing to return to happier memories during his youth, or returning to their old shared bed, or being spurred to commit revenge against Hindley for disrupting his childhood and trajectory in life, he is still an adult during much of the novel so it seems he is saved from some of this speculation and psychoanalysis. Which may or may not be right. I think a problem with a lot of these theories is that they seem to forget that Emily never knew of Freud, as he was born some 8 years after her death. While an interesting lens to read the book through and I’m glad there are essays on it, I think Catherine’s situation says much more about spiritually, society, and the human experience and is not an overt psychoanalytical case study (I feel like it sounds like I hate Freud, I really don’t lol I just think he’s over/incorrectly used a lot).
Also, like many other proposed narratives, the theories that conclude they both wish to return to their childhood often assume Heathcliff doesn't care about the world or education, that they just want to be dirty children running around the moors forever, etc. All while ignoring that by their teens they both aren't ignorant of how the world works, or injustice of it, and also how they both view the other as the person they would like to marry and to escape from the home that is no longer welcoming to them. J. Hillis Miller, and a few other critics I can’t remember, fall into this trap. Miller’s take was something about their boundaries being blurred by their shared spaces, and childhood, and that all their later struggles are to claim that shared space again. While he believes they are strongly platonic, others make similar suggestions, like their mystical union is reminiscent of a "primordial androgynous being.” I’ve mentioned part of this argument before, but I didn’t mention how it is common that these arguments overstate the importance of childhood and Catherine’s and Heathcliff’s supposed fixation on it. (This is all a lot of ground to cover so sorry if this is hard to follow.)
Now there are few reasons I think childhood is important in the book, and I think can be representative of a number of things. One of the reasons WH is so interesting is because so many metaphors and symbols can be explored in multiple ways. Understood in a very simplistic and broad way it does nicely lend to the imagery of wildness, freedom, and being in a natural rather than materialistic state. It also speaks more plainly of the angst most people feel when surrendering childhood freedoms to adult responsibility and of being introduced into a world that is unfair and tragic. I’ve also thought their moving from childhood to adulthood with their coinciding loss and separation, feels similar to awakening to a vast existential dread that causes the loss of meaning and proceeds to force the characters into chaos.
I think it is also important to the plot that Catherine and Heathcliff's relationship begins early on - it makes more sense that they are unable to view their past, present, or future, without the other since they’re in each other’s earliest memories. It also helps prevent a more cliche "love at first sight" plot and leaves less room to believe it is based on anything superficial.
Something that I find interesting is it seems to be somewhat contested as to how to reconcile the fact their childhood isn’t particularly happy yet they seem to desire to return to it. I don’t remember reading anyone who tries to really tackle this. Catherine and Heathcliff have only a brief time after Hindley leaves and Mr. Earnshaw is still alive that their lives are relatively peaceful. But I don’t think anyone could consider even that part of their childhood as ideal, nor do they specifically mention that time, apart from in Catherine’s diary when she says her father was back because Hindley is a terrible substitute.
I certainly don’t see the story as an ode to childhood as I've seen some critics suggest. Partially because Cathy and Hareton are able to grow up and live the life that Catherine and Heathcliff would have wanted, and also because of how telling it is that Catherine is trapped as a child ghost until she’s reunited with Heathcliff. If the book was an ode to childhood the shepherd boy should have seen two children on the moors and not Heathcliff and "a woman."
You mention how some have accused Emily of not understanding children - I think that’s kind of a funny claim. I think her writing, despite the poeticism, is concerned with humanity and in that way is relatable and the emotions very intelligible - still the characters' actions and language could never be mistaken as striving for hyper-realism. Also, she grew up with siblings and knew family friends, and servants who had children so I don’t think the way little Hareton or whoever, is written has to do with her not understanding children. I don’t think any of the sisters were maternal, so perhaps that changes their writing or what others would expect from them.
#wuthering heights#emily brontë#thoughts#i'm totally forgetting points i wanted to make but i think this has gone on long enough lol
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The Pleasure Principle – Sigmund Freud
Heuristics
By the time Freud was reaching 1910, certain patterns were emerging from his patients, and with competing contributions from his followers, especially Carl Jung, there was some pressure to provide a heuristic, or a method of investigation to solve these psychological problems. Freud's contribution found that "every neurosis has an effect...of forcing the patient out of real life, of alienating him from reality. The neurotic turns away from reality because he finds either the whole or parts of it unbearable. The most extreme type of this turning away from reality is exhibited in certain cases of hallucinatory psychosis where the patient attempts to deny the event that has triggered his insanity. Actually, though, every neurotic does the same thing with some fragment of reality. Thus we are presented with the task of studying the development of the relationship of neurotics - and mankind in general - to reality, and so of assimilating the psychological significance of the real outside world into the framework of our theories."
The Pleasure Principle
Depending on the translation, Freud's theory focuses on how "lust" or "unlust" manifests in our day to day thinking processes. "These processes strive to gain pleasure; our psychic activity draws back from any action that might arouse unpleasure (repression). Our dreams at night, our tendency when awake to recoil from painful impressions, these are vestiges of the rule of this principle and evidence of its power."
At the time Freud was worried about being accused of plagiarism, as Carl Jung was also developing two modes of thinking, associative, and directed thinking in his Symbols of Transformation. As usual, when you think something is new in psychology, philosophy had something to say about it much earlier.
"Let it be assumed by us that pleasure is a certain movement of the soul, a sudden and perceptible settling down into its natural state, and pain the opposite. If such is the nature of pleasure, it is evident that which produces the disposition we have just mentioned is pleasant, and that which destroys it or produces the contrary settling down is painful. Necessarily, therefore, it must be generally pleasant to enter into a normal state." ~ Rhetoric - Aristotle - Book I, Chapter 11. (350 BC).
As rational as this principle is, there is a problem with it: Humanity must face many situations that call for some pain first to gain a greater pleasure later. In the ancient world, if we wanted to achieve the most basic goal, to eat enough to survive, we had to hunt first, or cultivate plants, before we could gratify ourselves.
The Reality Principle
As our mind searches for pleasure, and thinks of ideas of pleasure, there comes inevitably a conflict with reality, and an attempt to assimilate it. Freud says that, "whatever was thought of (wished for) was simply hallucinated, as still happens every night with our dream thoughts. It was due only to the failure of the anticipated satisfaction, the disillusionment as it were, that this attempt at satisfaction by means of hallucination was abandoned. Instead, the psychic apparatus had to resolve to form an idea of the real circumstances in the outside world and to endeavour actually to change them. With this, a new principle of psychic activity was initiated; now ideas were formed no longer of what was pleasant, but of what was real, even if this happened to be unpleasant."
Consciousness, Attention, Memory, and Action
As a way to explain this behaviour Freud developed the topography of the mind further. "The increased significance of external reality heightened in turn the significance of the sense organs directed towards that outside world, and also of the consciousness attached to these, which now learnt how to discern sensory qualities in addition to the qualities of pleasure and unpleasure, previously its only concern. A specific function of attention was setup with the task of periodically scanning the outside world in order to assimilate its data in advance, should an urgent inner need arise. This activity seeks out sensory impressions rather than waiting for them to occur. Probably at the same time, a system of retention was set up with the task of storing the results of this periodic activity of consciousness, an element of what we call memory."
Freud then explains how this ability could be used to assess the world. "In place of repression, which excluded certain of the emerging ideas - those deemed unpleasurable - from being invested with energy, there arose a process of impartial judgement, whose task it was to decide if a particular idea was true or false - that is, corresponded with reality or not - a decision reached via comparisons made with memory traces of reality."
Once the judgement is made about the environment, Freud defines motivation by how the "motor discharge, which under the rule of the pleasure principle had served to relieve the psychic apparatus from increases in stimulation by means of innervations sent inside the body (physical gestures, expressions of emotion), was now given a new function, being deployed to make expedient alterations to external reality. It was transformed into action."
With these phenomenological descriptions of the mind, it's easy to see how hard it is to remove stress when pleasure and stress are used as a constant radar to assess the environment. Comparisons of what is good and bad are made in the perceptions of present moment experience, and also in comparisons with memory.
Fantasy
Yet from our experience, it's possible to escape reality, to enjoy arts and entertainment, and to also entertain ourselves with our thoughts. Freud says the "economic principle of conserving expenditure, seems to manifest itself in the tenacity with which we cling to existing sources of pleasure and the difficulty we have in giving these up. At the inception of the reality principle, one kind of thought activity split away, remaining exempt from reality-testing and continuing to obey only the pleasure principle. This is fantasizing, which begins with children's play then later, as daydreaming." All of us can remember examples from our own lives. Have you dreamed of winning a particular lottery but never bought the ticket? Have you thought about asking someone out, but you didn't? Have you seen a stock do well in the market and imagined that you could go into a time machine and buy the stock when it was 5% of its current price? These are all fantasies that provide an imagined gratification in place of the real thing. Like enjoying a good movie, the story wasn't real, but the emotions you felt were real.
The principles in childhood sexual development
The need to develop a Reality Principle shows up early on in an individual's life, with the need to develop sexually and to find a mate. "While the ego drives are undergoing this development, the sexual drives diverge in a highly significant way. The sexual drives initially behave auto-erotically, finding their satisfaction in the subject's own body and therefore never experiencing the state of frustration that necessitated the introduction of the reality principle. Later, when they do begin the process of finding an object, this is promptly interrupted by the long latency period that delay's sexual development until puberty. As a result of these two factors - auto-eroticism and latency - the sexual drive is arrested in its psychic development and continues to be ruled for much longer by the pleasure principle, in many people never managing to free itself from this at all." Freud's hint at the possibility of arrested development into adulthood. The way out for them is to take the wish and make it real. "As the ego undergoes the transformation from pleasure-ego into reality-ego, the sexual drives undergo the changes that lead from initial auto-eroticism, through various intermediate phases, to object-love in the service of the reproductive function."
A weak spot found
Unfortunately this educational period for children and adolescents is so long that it becomes a challenge to venture out of fantasy into the reality of taking risks. "The continuing effects of auto-eroticism make it possible for the easier, instantaneous satisfaction of fantasizing about the sexual object to be retained for so long in place of real satisfaction, which involves making efforts and tolerating delays. Repression remains all-powerful in the realm of fantasy; it is able to inhibit ideas...before they reach consciousness - if their being invested with energy could cause a release of unpleasure. This is a weak spot in our psychic organization that can be used to bring already rational thought processes back under the sway of the pleasure principle. Thus an essential element in the psyche's predisposition to neurosis results from the delay in educating the sexual drive to take account of reality, and from the conditions that make this delay possible."
Delay of gratification
Despite the need for the pleasure principle to be replaced by the reality principle, Freud cautions against the interpretation that it is a complete replacement. "Just as the pleasure-ego can do nothing but wish, pursue pleasure and avoid unpleasure, so the reality-ego has no other task than to strive for what is useful and to protect itself from what is harmful. By taking over from the pleasure principle, the reality principle is really just safeguarding it, not deposing it, a momentary pleasure with uncertain consequences is given up, but only in order to obtain, by the new approach, a more secure pleasure later on." An opening for development arises where the subject can now choose to be lost in wishes, or to take action with what is available instead. One can imagine a Freudian patient that now realizes that life is up to them and they must repeatedly act in new directions, take risks, and persist in altering their lives.
The principles in our institutions
Freud views much of our institutions as forms of delay of gratification. "The doctrine that the - voluntary or enforced - renunciation of earthly pleasures will be rewarded in the afterlife is simply a mythopoetic projection of this psychic transformation. Following this principle to its logical conclusion, religions have been able to bring about the absolute renunciation of pleasure in this life in return for the promise of recompense in a future existence; by so doing they have not conquered the pleasure principle. Science comes closest to achieving this conquest, but scientific work, too, provides intellectual pleasure and promises practical gain eventually."
A natural connection to this thinking process is how our learning institutions work. "Education can without question be described as an impetus to overcoming the pleasure principle and replacing it with the reality principle." This reminds me of the self-help book industry where people have a desire to improve themselves, but depending on the quality of the book, and the action or inaction of the reader, it may foster more daydreaming. The knowledge must be acted upon, and results gained in real life, to achieve psychological release.
Art
For Freud, artists and their contributions don't escape his principles. He described how the neurotic perception of the artist can be used as a way to face reality, by making artworks in the real world, especially if others resonate with the artist's messages. You can see this in the below link to my review of Csikszentmihalyi's, and Robinson's, The Art of Seeing: https://rumble.com/v1gvlhb-how-to-appreciate-art-psychology-of-things-22.html
Psychosis and Paranoia
Venturing into more complex territory, Freud uses his principles to describe deeper disconnections with reality. He says, "...(the choice of neurosis) will depend on which phase of ego or libido development the predisposing arrest occurred in." Our emotions react not just to reality but also to our dreams, wishes, and ideas. This can cause enough conflict in the mind where the grip of reality slips away from the subject leading to pathology, such as false memories, or in more serious cases, psychosis, or paranoia.
"The strangest characteristic of unconscious (repressed) processes...results from their total disregard for reality-testing; thought-reality is equated with external reality, the wish with its fulfillment, just as occurs spontaneously under the rule of the old pleasure principle. For this reason it is extremely difficult to distinguish between unconscious fantasies and memories that have become unconscious. But we should never be tempted to [underestimate] the role played by fantasies in the creation of symptoms just because they are not real, or by attributing a neurotic feeling of guilt to some other source because no actual crime can be ascertained. We have to use the currency that prevails in the country we are exploring - in our case, the neurotic currency." For Freud, the neurotic currency involves wishes that are in conflict with reality. For example, guilt over socially unacceptable wishes, or the frustration of wishes by obstacles in the way.
Future influences
The principles would also guide Freud in his controversial review of Daniel Paul Schreber's book, Memoirs of My Nervous Illness, one of the most analyzed cases studies in psychology. [See: Daniel Paul Schreber: https://rumble.com/v1gu84v-case-studies-daniel-paul-schreber-freud-and-beyond.html]. With less understanding, in Freud's time, of psycho-biological breaks with reality, biological problems and thinking errors have yet to be separated.
Freud's small paper became a foundation for Psychoanalysis, but it still required updating, by Freud himself no less. The upcoming disbanding from some of his followers, and a World War, would be the motivation for Freud to write the influential Beyond the Pleasure Principle, which tackles the problem of why people in many instances actually desire and seek out displeasure.
Formulations on the Two Principles of Mental Functioning - Sigmund Freud: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781782203025/
Beyond the Pleasure Principle - Sigmund Freud & Beyond: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780141184050/
The Unconscious - Sigmund Freud: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780141915487/
The Art of Seeing: An Interpretation of the Aesthetic Encounter ~ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Rick E. Robinson: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780892361564/
Rhetoric - Aristotle - Book I, Chapter 11.: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0060%3Abook%3D1%3Achapter%3D11
Harold P. Blum (2004) Beneath and Beyond the “Formulations on the Two Principles of Mental Functioning”, The Psychoanalytic Study of the Child, 59:1, 240-257, DOI: 10.1080/00797308.2004.11800740
Psychology: http://psychreviews.org/category/psychology01/
#pleasure principle#realityprinciple#nirvanaprinciple#beyondthepleasureprinciple#sigmund freud#psychoanalysis#psychology#psychosis
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