This paper is an exploration of possible journeys towards freedom from colonial states of mind. These inner worlds are the distorting forms of self-observation brought about by living under oppressive conditions, and includes those associated with colonialism itself, and also coloniality, the enduring legacy left behind by colonial regimes. Fanon describes the effect of colonialism on subjectivity as creating "a zone of nonbeing" and suggests freedom from it requires internally "an authentic upheaval." This paper draws the parallels between Fanon's zone of nonbeing and states of mind untethered from the shackles of colonial definition. These states, akin to reverie are potentially the place from which the quest for a new authenticity of being might be found.
In this paper, the author revisits Stephen Mitchell's important developmental tilt hypothesis in light of his treatment of Winnicott's most creative contributions to psychoanalysis. It is the author's contention that neither Winnicott's focus on play as the central factor in the therapeutic action of psychoanalysis nor his role, along with Bion, of creating an ontological turn in psychoanalysis were accounted for in Mitchell's reading of Winnicott. The author argues that in Mitchell's useful attempt to redress some of the ways that regression had been concretized in psychoanalytic practice and theory, he overlooked Winnicott's complex view of holding and the mutual elements of regression that occur between patient and analyst in play. Play embodies tensions between the symmetrical and asymmetrical elements of the analytic relationship in ways that Mitchell did not consider in his developmental tilt hypothesis.
In describing the paralysis that encumbers those struggling with persecutory guilt about their white privilege, and suggesting we seek opportunities for meaningful repair within the realm of the ordinary, Caflisch (this issue) is directing us toward an ethic of personal accountability to everyday interaction. This paper explores possible routes toward the “ordinary” reparation Caflisch seeks, and describes several pitfalls that might be encountered along the way.
This chapter argues that colonial asylum spaces spoke directly to colonisers' anxiety about the violence of colonialism itself, and became an institutional architecture within which a constant, never entirely successful process of purification was undertaken. Were colonial asylums a kind of emotional laundry in which the detritus of imperialism itself could be taken in, cleaned, and sorted? Classifications of lunatics became more refined, and asylums more efficient in separating one category of person from another, but this only sharpened the vision of encroaching disorder, the threat of attack from that quintessential other, the demeaned, disempowered, but nonetheless violent colonised subject. Dr Samuel Bailey received a piece of land on what were then the outskirts of Cape Town. In the history of Cape Colonial asylums, as with asylums the world over, space chosen is on the periphery, the edge, out of sight.
In this brief commentary on Butler's description of ruptures and violences of setting, so dense with possibilities for debate and elaboration, four central themes are explored: a rumination on the word "visceral," suggesting that nonbelonging is never a ghostly experience; "plucking up a protest," and the paradox of needing for a place of belonging before protest is possible; the bewildering multiplicity of ghosts in protest movements; and how we think of belonging in a clinical setting.
The editors of Feminism & Psychology, Catriona Macleod, Rose Capdevila and Jeanne Marecek, thank Tamara Shefer, who, along with Sally R. Munt, Vivienne Bozalek and Ronelle Carolissen, guest edited the special issue “Feminist Politics of Shame”, published in Volume 29, Issue 2. Guest editing is a lengthy and timeconsuming process. We are grateful for the active and constructive engagement with the authors of this special issue. The following people have taken time to review manuscripts for Feminism & Psychology over the last year. We are indebted to all our reviewers for their commitment to providing in-depth feedback. In addition, a number of people reviewed abstracts and attended presentations to decide on our annual student presentation awards. Thank you for undertaking this labour.
This paper raises a series of historiographical issues about the nature of lunatic asylum archives. It addresses one central thread, namely the relationship between the phenomenology of mental illness, and the many kinds of records in which it is reflected. It suggests that there is a fundamental paradox involved in the rational, orderly and coherent representation of mental illness generated by lunatic asylum bureaucracy, and the chaotic multiplicity of the lived experience of patients, many suffering from illnesses that involved irrational, disordered and incoherent states of mind.The paper begins by raising as background the relationship between thought, language and experience, and ways in which this defies straightforward representation in clinical case histories. It goes on to examine aspects of lunatic asylum archives, including statistics, correspondence and case records, and ways in which these might either mislead, or fictionalize histories of these institutions. It suggests that archival work, particularly with respect to capturing the complexity and emotional violence of these institutions might require historians to dream the archive'. This is the work of disciplined imagination that might act as a guide in traversing deeply irrational territory.The paper ends by highlighting several issues that historians of lunatic asylums might address.