Many people approach me asking for therapy. Psychoanalysis, despite the
popularity of the term “psychoanalytic psychotherapy” in the anglophone world,
is not a therapy. The various psychotherapies allow a person to express their
suffering to someone who listens and this can be very effective in rectifying
identifications and may give rapid relief to symptoms. However, psychoanalysis is not a
practice that is limited to listening. The analyst interprets and an
interpretation is not at all on the side of a suggestion. An interpretation
involves resonance and the body. It is structured not by an
institution that hands out certificates, but by the structure of session itself, the analyst having obtained her 'know how' not only through theoretical studies, but through her own analysis.
Everything is structure in psychoanalysis, but not all structure is signifying.
In this way, psychoanalysis goes through but also ‘beyond’ the Other. It does not seek to
find a place for the subject in which it can be recognised by the Other. Through
the desire of the analyst, the vector opens to the Other as barred, as
inconsistent, as not being able to answer to desire. More than listening, then, analysis opens an experience that does not pass through speech, but writes in silence. This is the path of the symptom and its discontents.
What does this mean in
practice? Psychoanalysis goes beyond therapeutic good
intentions of well-being and the rapid repair of symptoms that inevitably
reappear, sometimes in more severe forms. Through the slow constructions that
occur in analysis through speech and not without interpretation, one finds a
way not to get rid of the symptom but to do something with it. There is no
hidden meaning nor authentic being to discover, but the symptom is the most
singular thing each one has and when it is inscribed in an analysis a kind of accounting – a writing for jouissance – takes place. Here, the symptom can encounter the fantasy and transposed qua sinthome – an invention and a know how achieved
through knotting the three registers real, symbolic and imaginary, giving a lasting consistency
to the body in a world where it is increasingly difficult to find your feet.