Once again I am saying that this is one of the most beautiful things ever written and I'll say it my favorite book. Stayed up all night reading really really slowly and with a hyperactive pencil and was offered a genuinely beautiful emotional experience.
Though this is the third time reading this I think my understanding Freud and this book maybe a little bit more going into it allowed me to focus on reading at the line level and it was the first time I really appreciated the poetry of like almost each individual line. I don't think I can afford to give like a rigorous reading here rn—saving that for the word doc—but like... idk.
But... my biggest takeaways here are:
1. The ambivalence Freud felt in writing this book and the apparent emotional valence this text had for him. What I am mostly interested in in this book is the regressive model of desire as it relates to time. The drive always reaching backwards towards nonbeing as it is pushed tirelessly forward by the compounding "ever complicated détours always has reminded me of Benjamin's "angel of history," staring backwards but being pushed into "the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward." I felt this time, though, that Freud himself is that angel of history. Not a chapter goes by without him qualifying that the work here is "speculative" or "extreme," and he even states "I am not convinced myself." He is, at this point, twenty years beyond what he believes is his magnum opus, dealing with the death of his daughter, already suffering from an early version of the cancer that will eventually kill him, and is finding that psychoanalysis is not exempt from the destruction occasioned by WWI—the catalyst for so many movements in thought toward the absurd. In the really difficult passage describing the evolution of his theory of the drive(s), the difficulties that arise exponentially out of previous models and false dichotomies put forth by him can be understood as the piling debris pushing him toward writing this insane fucking book.
2. Freud is not a philosopher. Like definitely not. I usually tend to roll my eyes when people (perhaps instructors in my master's program...) make the argument that Freud was himself just a scientist that wanted to write scientific work as a defense of "neuropsychoanalysis" or whatever. Obviously "neuropsychoanalysis" is bullshit but like... Freud definitely wanted to be a simple little scientist. I know that he read a certain number of philosophers with varying degrees of certainty throughout his life (Aristotle, Plato, Kant, Schopenhauer, especially) but like I feel that every time one of those names comes up in his work I get less convinced that he read anything seriously at all—though, I know, the myth of Aristophanes from the Symposium is actually recounted correctly here, unlike in the Three Essays. The awesome part of this is that I totally agree that this is like "the first work of theory"—multidimensional, interdisciplinary, speculative, literary—but the other big upshot of this is that he doesn't even really read his own work very seriously as philosophy. Obviously there is just one drive—what is here called "the death drive," the "eternal return," the angrily grasping backwards at a past no longer attainable. That Eros and the death drive are the two competing "titans" he claims they are here and especially in Civilization and Its Discontents that define the struggle of history is an atrocious read on his part. Rather, I feel like it's the progression of time itself—moving the subject away from their desire, acting as the space between them and their desire (objet a, i think, but also I'm still unsure that I understand Lacan...)—brushing up against the will of the backwards facing drive.
3. The line by which this book initally seduced me comes on page 22 of the shitty dover thrift editions version that has the silhouette of a naked hot girl on the cover because some intern grossly misunderstood the title "beyond the pleasure principle." This line is that where Kant's time and space as "necessary forms of thought" is invoked in order to speculate that time itself is connected to (as a perception of) the periodicity of the reality-testing of the Pcpt.-Cs. system that provides the shield against external stimulus. After a period of doubt, I am glad to say that my re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-reading of the line "this mode of functioning may perhaps constitute another way of providing a shield against stimuli" re-convinced me that he is asserting here that linear time is constructed as only a perception of the tiny samples of reality taken by the sense organs, and that time exists in this manner as a means of portion control for the psyche. Two days ago I thought I had to abandon this line of thought in my thesis but now I don't think I do but that's awesome. However, understanding that we have no sense of all of what time could possibly be like upends everything. I think this might be why he says "I know that these remarks must sound very obscure, but I must limit myself to these hints." It seems very likely that the evaluation of the metapsychology of time that he urges here would result in yet another work that would force a complete reevaluation of psychoanalysis as a whole. What does it mean that desire always seeks a return to the past if the past exists only in the consciousness and cannot be extended to either the unconscious or external reality? How can the timeless unconscious be affected by experience? Why don't the irruptions of the unconscious (in neurosis, dreams, slips, jokes, etc) ever offer insight into the future? Is there a censor between the and the that works specifically to defend our perception of time? How can dreams not be prophetic? How can the pleasure principle exist unconsciously at all if it seeks to retain an earlier state of things?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? the evaluation of this would be such a titanic fucking blow to everything he ever thought, right???
4. There are a few pinholes in here where we can see Freud, ever so briefly, theorize the sacred. In the same edition on p. 32 he writes that life was "evoked in inanimate matter by the action of a force whose nature we can form no conception. It may perhaps have been a process similar in type to that which later caused the development of consciousness..." (my italics). This comes up again two (big) pages later, where he phrases the common aphorism "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny" as the germ-cells' repetition of "the performance to which they owe their existence" through normal development and death. Though "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny" is usually an embodied celebration of the theory of evolution in human development, this claim is dubious when discussing simple germ-cells—what performance could the first forms of life possibly be recapitulating save for creation itself??? Though Freud really really famously hated religion—I think he says its like the shared neurosis or something of the people in The Future of an Illusion, it is evident here that there is still an unimaginable, unknown spark at the beginning of time which our existences still contain and repeat in some way... maybe...
Obviously I have a lot more thoughts but like... I will be returning to this soon enough. <3
Edit 6/15/2025: somehow i only just realized that he actually just like... doesn't go beyond the pleasure principle...