Literature and psychoanalysis share an interest in neurosis. Many great
novels are a study of neurotic character. From Emma Bovary to Holden Caulfield we are in the world of neurotics, that is, people who, to some etent, misconstrue their surroundings, particularly their relationships. Emma, the Madame Bovary of Flau!ert"s novel, sees her #$ th century life through a fantasy of her misplaced desire and desira!ility, Holden Caulfield, the young protagonist of %. &. 'alinger"s Catcher In the Rye views his #$()s *ew +or, with an engaging chip on the shoulder. Both fail, as we all must, !ut are unforgetta!le !ecause the mechanisms of that failure are hinted at !y the novelist. -e read them, not only !ecause they are artfully forged, !ut !ecause we glimpse shadows of ourselves in them. *eurosis originally meant a disease of the nerves, !ut since Freud"s discovery that one of the neuroses, hysteria, is a disorder of the personality and not of the nerves, it has !een used to descri!e a disorder of the personality. Personhood, of course, cannot help !ut !e disordered. that is the result of having minds, initially at least, made for us. -e are !orn into epectations and ecitations. they live / in our parents / !efore we do and, unless grasped, determine destiny. Emma"s romantic fantasies are not genetic wilfulness, !ut the way a !eautiful child attempted to touch the perfection that the nuns who trained her suggested was her due. 0he odd thing is that most of the time, neurotics don"t actually realise that they are misreading their lives. 1 clever young man li,e Holden Caulfield ,nows in a peripheral sort of way that his !randing of nearly everyone as a 2phoney3 has something to do with his all4too4successful parents. But, as Freud said, we have the eerie a!ility to ,now and not ,now something at the same time. 0hat is how neurosis wor,s. it creates symptoms, such as Emma"s romantic illusions, !oth from what we ,now 4 our ,nowledge of our wishful thin,ing 4 and what we don"t / how we defend against it. 'o, clever as we may !e, we are in the dar, a!out ourselves, which is why literature, which eplores the hidden recesses, and therapy, which tries to epose them, have their uses. 0he pro!lem is that, while it was possi!le to say that the 5uestion of #$ th century literature was 6how are we to live, the 5uestions of this century is more to do with lifestyle. 0he word lifestyle was coined in #$7$ !y former Freud follower, 1lfred 1dler, who wanted to reclaim free will from the psychological determinism of Freud. 1dler could not accept that human su!8ectivity is programmed !y childhood, and argued for the power of personality to affect change. 0his he called 9lifestyle9, the values, passions, ,nowledge, actions and oddities that ma,e up a uni5ue individual. 1 century later, the life 1dler tal,ed a!out has !een su!ordinated to the style he did not even consider, and we are left with an epression that has come to mean the clothes we wear, the wor, we do, how we en8oy and the nature and 5uantity of our toys. 0hat is why we have so many pu!lications that are not !oo,s !ut style guides for living. 0his fetish for setting down rules as if life were a fashion to !e followed, rather than an am!ivalence to !e eperienced, has also touched psychotherapy, as the fad for manualised, measured treatments testifies. 'tyles, of course, change. 0hey must. 0hat is how fau novelty is created and new o!8ects sold. %ust loo, at the profusion of diagnoses in &'M #:. ;n literature, however, novelty is nowhere near enough. Fashions change< -hen Flau!ert wrote a later novel, Sentimental Education in #=>$, he lin,ed good loo,ing with 2plump3, !ut that style difference is incidental. Change for the sa,e of it has nothing to do with what real writers put on the page or analysts and therapists say or do not say in the session. 0heir tas, is to recognise the otherness of those they write of and listen to, not ma,e them over in their own li,eness or image. ;t is the reverse of what happens with those addicted to lifestyle, as the popularity of 6ma,e4overs" shows Lifestyle is !urying yourself in the commercial whim of another. 0he ecuse is that newness is originality and communicates something / your clothes?car spea,s for you, as if epanding the means, in this case, the wardro!e?garage, leads to epanding the mind. Flau!ert, who decried the epansion of the rail line !etween Paris and his home in @ouen / he thought it would give people more time to say nothing / saw the fallacy. Communication, which was also a !uAAword in his time, he ,new, was dependent on the eccentricity of the self to itself, not on a manualised effort to !reach the gap / either !etween us or !etween Paris and @ouen. 0his urgency to iron out the ,in,s, essentially eliminate the individual su!8ect in pursuit of an imagined predicta!ly, is a severe neurosis of its own. ;t infects writing / the weasel words of spin and soap operas / and psychotherapy, 8ust as it does !usiness and government. ;t mas5uerades as science and so4called communication !ut is in fact a pathological urge to seal the gaps that constitute human su!8ectivity. -hat is so feared that we have to nail ourselves down with conforming num!nessB 0he writer FranA Caf,a, a great admirer of Flau!ert, saw what was at sta,e. 20hose who !uild new media to eliminate the spectral elements !etween people,3 he o!served, 2only create more ample !reeding grounds for the ghosts.3 ends