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On Not Being Able to Sleep: Psychoanalysis and the Modern World
In these powerful essays, Jacqueline Rose delves into the questions that keep us awake at night, into issues of privacy and writing, exposure and shame. Do women writers--Christina Rossetti, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath--have a special talent for self-revelation? Or are they simply more vulnerable to the invasions of biography? What ethical questions are raised by Ted Hughes's role in Plath's writing life? What do Adrienne Rich and Natalie Angier reveal about the destiny of feminism? In its affinity with modernist writing, what can psychoanalysis tell us about the limits of knowledge--both about the most intimate components of experience and the most hallucinatory reaches of the mind? Have psychoanalytic writers today and the very institution of psychoanalysis remained faithful to the most potent and disturbing aspects of Freud's vision? Finally Rose addresses some of the most dramatic public performances of our times--the cult of celebrity with its contrasting obsessions with Princess Diana and the child murderer Mary Bell; and South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission which, in a stirring last essay, allows Rose to explore the ethical and political responsibilities of thought and speech in times of historical crisis. Moving deftly with style, force, and clarity between our public, political, and private, unconscious worlds, On Not Being Able to Sleep, forges a unique set of links between feminism, psychoanalysis, literature, and politics. The result is a book well worth staying up late to read--one that exposes the uncomfortable borderland between our desire to speak out and be silent, between the stage of the world and of the mind.
268 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2003
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About the author
Jacqueline Rose
88 books179 followersJacqueline Rose, FBA (born 1949, London) is a British academic who is currently Professor of Humanities at the Birkbeck Institute for the Humanities.
Rose was born into a non-practicing Jewish family. Her elder sister was the philosopher Gillian Rose. Jacqueline Rose is known for her work on the relationship between psychoanalysis, feminism and literature. She is a graduate of St Hilda's College, Oxford and gained her higher degree (maîtrise) from the Sorbonne, Paris and her doctorate from the University of London.
Her book Albertine, a novel from 2001, is a feminist variation on Marcel Proust's À la recherche du temps perdu.
She is best known for her critical study on the life and work of American poet Sylvia Plath, The Haunting of Sylvia Plath, published in 1991. In the book, Rose offers a postmodernist feminist interpretation of Plath's work, and criticises Plath's husband Ted Hughes and other editors of Plath's writing. Rose describes the hostility she experienced from Hughes and his sister (who acts as literary executor to Plath's estate) including threats received from Hughes about some of Rose's analysis of Plath's poem "The Rabbit Catcher". The Haunting of Sylvia Plath was critically acclaimed, and itself subject to a famous critique by Janet Malcolm in her book The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.
Rose is a regular broadcaster on and contributor to the London Review of Books.
Rose's States of Fantasy was the inspiration for composer Mohammed Fairouz's Double Concerto of the same title.
(from Wikipedia)
Rose was born into a non-practicing Jewish family. Her elder sister was the philosopher Gillian Rose. Jacqueline Rose is known for her work on the relationship between psychoanalysis, feminism and literature. She is a graduate of St Hilda's College, Oxford and gained her higher degree (maîtrise) from the Sorbonne, Paris and her doctorate from the University of London.
Her book Albertine, a novel from 2001, is a feminist variation on Marcel Proust's À la recherche du temps perdu.
She is best known for her critical study on the life and work of American poet Sylvia Plath, The Haunting of Sylvia Plath, published in 1991. In the book, Rose offers a postmodernist feminist interpretation of Plath's work, and criticises Plath's husband Ted Hughes and other editors of Plath's writing. Rose describes the hostility she experienced from Hughes and his sister (who acts as literary executor to Plath's estate) including threats received from Hughes about some of Rose's analysis of Plath's poem "The Rabbit Catcher". The Haunting of Sylvia Plath was critically acclaimed, and itself subject to a famous critique by Janet Malcolm in her book The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.
Rose is a regular broadcaster on and contributor to the London Review of Books.
Rose's States of Fantasy was the inspiration for composer Mohammed Fairouz's Double Concerto of the same title.
(from Wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
November 30, 2016
Reading psychoanalytical theory requires a lot of effort and doesn’t always offer proportionate rewards. The essays in this collection were denser than I expected, given that they were supposed to be applied theory rather than pure uncut Lacan-language. Although there were interesting elements to be found within, this was ultimately a book whose meandering, misty style did not provide sufficient comprehensible substance for my taste. I picked it up from the library shelf in the first place because I am a frequent insomniac, however the title should not be taken literally. Perhaps the most interesting chapter re-examines Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams, but that’s as close as Rose comes to discussing sleep. Somewhat ironically, I found the first half of the book quite soporific, so it in fact helped me to sleep. The initial six chapters are psychoanalytical literary criticism, which reminded me why I chose not to do English Lit A-level. I struggled through them, especially given the morbid emphasis on female writers who committed suicide.
The latter chapters covered topics of greater appeal, to me at least. There was some interesting stuff about the split between Freud and Jung, focusing on the interpersonal conflict rather than theoretical disagreements. In fact, this book is the first I’ve come across that discusses psychoanalysis as both theory and practise, noting the differences between the two. The former resides largely in academia, whilst the latter is shaped by the disagreements between key (male) figures who have shaped it. Rose asks what qualifies someone to be a psychoanalyst - is it enough to have been psychoanalysed by someone else for a certain period? This implies a particular sort of apprenticeship rather than formal academic training, yet it reminded me of my experience of academic teaching. As a postgraduate, I was considered qualified to supervise undergraduates as I’d been through the supervision system as an undergraduate myself. Actually, the similarities don’t end there, as supervisions involve semi-structured discussion in which the supervisor prompts their students to explore their ideas through careful questioning. I’ve never been psychoanalysed but the format is surely quite like that, albeit with a very different conversation topic to, say, housing policy!
I also appreciated Rose’s discussion of psychoanalysis as an institution, rather than just a body of theory. Although I knew that Lacan set up his own breakaway school, I hadn’t realised that he was experimenting with an alternate governance structure. Rose describes it as monarchical, as Lacan apparently had quite the cult of personality going. It’s striking to consider (what little I understand of) psychoanalytical theory in light of the conduct of those that came up with it. The final two chapters take psychoanalytical angles on public grief after Princess Diana’s death and the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, both fascinating subjects for analysis. Yet my main thought when reading each of those chapters was, “But what is your thesis?” In the fashion of her discipline, Rose’s writing raises a question then drifts in another direction, lacking the clarity of structure that I expect from academic work. Nonetheless, there were thought-provoking elements to be found and I don’t regret reading the book. To gauge whether you’d find it worthwhile, here is the most memorably annoying paragraph:
If you can cope with that, I think you'll be fine.
The latter chapters covered topics of greater appeal, to me at least. There was some interesting stuff about the split between Freud and Jung, focusing on the interpersonal conflict rather than theoretical disagreements. In fact, this book is the first I’ve come across that discusses psychoanalysis as both theory and practise, noting the differences between the two. The former resides largely in academia, whilst the latter is shaped by the disagreements between key (male) figures who have shaped it. Rose asks what qualifies someone to be a psychoanalyst - is it enough to have been psychoanalysed by someone else for a certain period? This implies a particular sort of apprenticeship rather than formal academic training, yet it reminded me of my experience of academic teaching. As a postgraduate, I was considered qualified to supervise undergraduates as I’d been through the supervision system as an undergraduate myself. Actually, the similarities don’t end there, as supervisions involve semi-structured discussion in which the supervisor prompts their students to explore their ideas through careful questioning. I’ve never been psychoanalysed but the format is surely quite like that, albeit with a very different conversation topic to, say, housing policy!
I also appreciated Rose’s discussion of psychoanalysis as an institution, rather than just a body of theory. Although I knew that Lacan set up his own breakaway school, I hadn’t realised that he was experimenting with an alternate governance structure. Rose describes it as monarchical, as Lacan apparently had quite the cult of personality going. It’s striking to consider (what little I understand of) psychoanalytical theory in light of the conduct of those that came up with it. The final two chapters take psychoanalytical angles on public grief after Princess Diana’s death and the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, both fascinating subjects for analysis. Yet my main thought when reading each of those chapters was, “But what is your thesis?” In the fashion of her discipline, Rose’s writing raises a question then drifts in another direction, lacking the clarity of structure that I expect from academic work. Nonetheless, there were thought-provoking elements to be found and I don’t regret reading the book. To gauge whether you’d find it worthwhile, here is the most memorably annoying paragraph:
Both novels are grounded, narratively and ideologically, in property, specifically in a house - two in the case of Bowen - which, partly due to the economic conditions or aftermath of the war, is in the process of dramatically and painfully changing hands. And both choose to supplement the violence of the war, whether as memory and anticipation in the case of Butts or concrete, lived, backdrop in the case of Bowen whose novel takes place during the Blitz, with a death, or number of deaths, which remain at least partially and bafflingly contingent to the historic conflict whose emotional and psychic vicissitudes they also trace.
If you can cope with that, I think you'll be fine.
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April 10, 2012The literary criticism is great, as is most of the essay on Diana's death, but the heavy-duty psychoanalytic theory in the whole second half of the book is unreadable. Definitely a book to get from the library.
May 21, 2016
Ideas on self and emotion. Good explanation of Freudian ideas and historical/biographical context of various writers.
December 15, 2019
Any book that begins with “Shame requires an audience...” works for me.
The essay on Christina Rossetti is wonderful, iconic, an absolute banger. I skipped the second half as most of them were essays about psychiatry and I could not understand them well.
The essay on Christina Rossetti is wonderful, iconic, an absolute banger. I skipped the second half as most of them were essays about psychiatry and I could not understand them well.
May 3, 2022
Fascinating, but very dense. I had to read it in short chunks, consulting a dictionary regularly throughout. I tried out some writers that I had not previously explored, Anne Sexton was one.
October 9, 2025
I definitely understood some of this. Particularly liked the essays on Plath and Woolf, obviously.
October 22, 2023
Some of the essays are thought provoking, while others are extremely hard to read. Loved the writing on women poets and the quoted words from them and also the essay on South Africa. Worth reading in my opinion.
June 30, 2008
For a defense and complication of the 'confessional,' look no further. Not to mention some really interesting essays on Freud et al.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews