Wool-Gathering or How I Ended Analysis is a personal and humorous account of the last month of personal psychoanalysis, principally Lacanian in orientation, taking place in a frenetic and strikebound Paris. A diary account, interspersed with a commentary on the analysis, Wool-Gathering is not only a highly entertaining memoir, but also a more academic account of a process, opening up a world normally kept private in a new and engaging way.
Upon reflection I didn’t like this book. The author’s dreams are frequently misogynistic and borderline racist and disguises this all through a weird lacanian psychoanalytic lens and his overarching frustration towards his therapist. That is then intertwined with his generalised complaints about his flat leaking.