"Unlike Freud, I do not claim that religion is just an illusion and a source of neurosis. The time has come to recognize, without being afraid of 'frightening' either the faithful or the agnostics, that the history of Christianity prepared the world for humanism."
So writes Julia Kristeva in this provocative work, which skillfully upends our entrenched ideas about religion, belief, and the thought and work of a renowned psychoanalyst and critic. With dialogue and essay, Kristeva analyzes our "incredible need to believe"--the inexorable push toward faith that, for Kristeva, lies at the heart of the psyche and the history of society. Examining the lives, theories, and convictions of Saint Teresa of Avila, Sigmund Freud, Donald Winnicott, Hannah Arendt, and other individuals, she investigates the intersection between the desire for God and the shadowy zone in which belief resides.
Kristeva suggests that human beings are formed by their need to believe, beginning with our first attempts at speech and following through to our adolescent search for identity and meaning. Kristeva then applies her insight to contemporary religious clashes and the plight of immigrant populations, especially those of Islamic origin. Even if we no longer have faith in God, Kristeva argues, we must believe in human destiny and creative possibility. Reclaiming Christianity's openness to self-questioning and the search for knowledge, Kristeva urges a "new kind of politics," one that restores the integrity of the human community.
Julia Kristeva is professor emerita of linguistics at the Université de Paris VII and author of many acclaimed works. Her Columbia University Press books include Hatred and Forgiveness (2012); The Severed Head: Capital Visions (2014); and, with Philippe Sollers, Marriage as a Fine Art (2016).
Ovi razgovori sa Julijom Kristevom vezani su za pokušaj da se dođe do psihoanalitičkih odgovora o korenima ljudske potrebe za verovanjem i prirodi religijskih iskustava. Ili su oni barem načelno to, dok implicitno Kristeva, pričajući o religiji, podmeće psihoanalizu kao novu religiju ili, tačnije, kao nešto što bi trebalo da je zameni. Ona smatra da bi svako morao da se zaustavi, zakorači u stranu, postane objekt svoje misli i razvije svoju teologiju, poredeći je sa mnogobrojnim tumačenjima svoje potrebe da veruje i tražeći svakojake p(at)erverzije podsvesti u tim implusima. Meni je bilo zanimljivo da čitam šta psihoanaliza ima da kaže o religiji, posebno jer prema psihoanalizi imam odnos kao i prema religiji – zanimljive su mi samo izdaleka. Kada se približim, uglavnom gubim interesovanje.
Kristeva je aljkava teoretičarka; voli samouvereno da priča o stvarima koje ne poznaje, što se ponavlja kod nje iz knjige u knjigu. U ovoj samouvereno greši na teološkim postavkama. Ne znam da li to čini iz neznanja ili to svesno čini kako bi lakše uklopila religiju u psihoanalitički narativ. Uglavnom, nije dosadno jer je psihoanaliza zabavna (izdaleka), sa interesantnim zaključcima. Recimo, pozivajući se na Frojda i njegovo smeštanje težnje ka apsolutnom u adolescentsku fazu, Kristeva smatra da evropski roman nastaje u procesu maštovitog razrađivanja adolescentne krize. Kako tvrdi: „Kao žanr, roman je zasnovan na adolescentnim likovima. Idealisti, entuzijasti, opsednuti Apsolutom, poraženi prvim razočarenjima, deprimirani ili perverzni, po prirodi sarakastični, oni su večni vernici, ali, pored toga, i stalni pobunjenici i potencijalni nihilisti.” Nesumnjivo da glavni tok evropskog romana može donekle da se uklopi u ovu šemu. Ali mene zanima šta je sa čitaocima i njihovim prevazilaženjem adolescentne krize? Da li tu krizu oslikavaju knjige koje smo odabrali kao svoje ili su to one koje smo odbacili? (Voleo bih da čitam psihoanalitičke analize čitaoca. Svi se bave samo psihom pisaca. Ako ima neko neki predlog neka preporuči.)
I slažem se Kristevom da je vreme da se reč „genije” očisti od značenja koja mu je pripisao romantizam i da joj vratimo prvobitno značenje. Genije ne kao isključivost, jedan u milion, nego genije kao „lični bog”: „koji bdi nad svakim čovekom, mestom, stanjem”; genije kao sudbina „bivstvujućeg” koja nastaje njegovim rođenjem i nestaje zajedno sa njim; genije kao svaki čovek pojedinačno kao nešto jedinstveno i neponovljivo. U širem smislu to postoji kod Grka, u judaizmu, u hrišćanstvu, pa u nekom širem smislu i kod Hane Arent u njenoj tvrdnji da je za pojedinca „centar političnosti” u stvari mogućnost da se pojavi kao celovito biće, sa svojom jedinstvenom ličnom istorijom, pred pluralizmom ljudskih veza. Treba na to više podsećati.
I am not sure what rating to give this book. There were moments where it was amazing, and moments where I was somewhat disappointed. I am a fan of Kristeva. I read a few of her books (in English translation) when I was studying for my PhD and some of her concepts really influenced the direction I took with some of it, and I hold her in high esteem for that. So I picked up this book eagerly, shortly after it was published in English - it is to my shame that I have only just taken it off my shelf to read!! (I suppose I have been somewhat distracted by emigrating twice in the last five years!)
There were points in this book that got my pulse quickening. Stimulating ideas about 'pre-religious belief'- exploring the origins of belief from a psychoanalytical perspective, in the earliest moments of experience of selfhood and otherness, the idealisation of the 'other' (often the father figure) whose recognition helps us to move from oceanic immersion in the mother figure into singular identity; and the potentially violent disappointment of adolescent idealisation. Some of the Freudian/Lacanian language is a bit heavy to wade through, especially as I reject some of its basic framework, but still there was a lot to think about there.
I was also moved by Kristeva's exploration of suffering in the Christian discourse. Although she is not a believer herself, she is an appreciator of (Roman Catholic) Christianity. I enjoyed her reflection on the meaning of suffering, and the implications of having deicide (the murder of god) at the heart of a religion. Of course she ties this up with various psychoanalytic theories around both desiring and wanting to murder the father figure. I hang rather light to that area of thinking - I take it seriously but it is one story of what is happening in the world. An interesting idea though, is that murdering your god, a god who has taken human form and suffered as a human, not only identifies god with human experience in a cathartic way, but also blasts open the concept of a god, imbues it with contradiction and questioning. This enables movement within belief, development and progression - in some cases right out of religious belief. Kristeva sees humanism as the natural development, and inheritor of the best of Christian values.
"No, I have not forgotten that we are speaking of the Christian idea of suffering and its secular substitutes. But, unlike Freud, I don't say that religion is merely an illusion and source of neurosis. The time has come to recognise, without being afraid of 'scaring off' either the faithful or the agnostics, that the history of Christianity is a preparation for humanism. Of course, humanism is in a state of rupture with Christianity, but it starts from it: a 'rupture' that Christianity heralded in being the only religion that comes within a hair's breadth of exiting from the domain of the religious, notably - but not only - when it makes God himself suffer to death. Does this 'hiatus' (Urs von Balthasar) of the divine take suffering as sacred, or, on the contrary, does it deconsecrate it? It is well and truly from under the cupolas of Christian churches that suffering rises in sonorous variations that soothe us, or even resuscitate us for good, and it can even manifest itself in carnival laughter on the squares of the very churches themselves. Is it not from within Christianity that Dante wrote his prayer in the form of a 'divine comedy'? Even humanism will only avoid the dead ends of its rationalism if it allows itself to interpret such antecedents in depth". (pg83)
You see how stimulating she is - such a mixture of agreeing and wanting to argue something different! It would be very interesting to bring Kristeva's work into dialogue with theologians like Rebecca Chopp, Sallie McFague, and Paul Fiddes.
However, the book disappoints me when it comes to the treatment of Islam. I am no expert in Islam, but neither, it seems to me, is Kristeva. It is perfectly valid to praise the 'genius', as she calls it, of Christianity, and to appreciate its possible gift to European culture. But it doesn't feel ok to play the 'my god is better than your god' game. All the criticisms she makes of the god of Islam - that it is modelled more on an Aristotelian concept, a distant figure with a judicial relationship with humanity, and resistant to compassion and to progress - can be levelled at fundamentalist manifestations of Christianity, which are just as common in the world, and scarily influential. Most of my personal encounters with Islam have been with women, and some of the stories I have listened to over the years have been so intensely personal and open to the world ... I think it is vitally important in today's world to deliberately problematise stereotypes of Islam rather than reify them. Not to deny the significant issues and injustices that concern us all at present, but neither to generalise away our common humanity, and the existence of compassion and progress within a different way.
Perhaps if I re-read I may see more nuance than I picked up first time through, and I realise some things get lost in translation. I thought this interview with Kristeva on YouTube was quite helpful.
This small book consists of an introductory letter, two interviews, a lecture and two newspaper articles. For the ordinary lay person it is virtually unreadable, full as it is of self-reflective, multiple-associations, qualified by numerous adjectives, and almost narcissistic cross-referencing: the sort of stuff one tends to find in postmodernist/poststructuralist writing. One feels one is digging through mounds of word-rubble in a vain effort to find some kind of solid structure within or underneath, but which deconstruction by its very nature forbids.
Yet every now and then one can find some strange unsubstantiated statements like: 'Freud, who was the least religious man of the century...' (p. xv) [Freud lived from 1856 to 1939: which century is being referred to? Could one really say he was the least religious man of either the 19th or the 20th century?] followed by 'Freud didn't devote much time to adolescents because he himself was the most unbelieving, the most irreligious human ever to live.' (p. 14) [Now he is the most irreligious man who ever lived! And what is the word 'because' doing there? Does being irreligious mean lack of interest in adolescents?:]
Elsewhere Kristeva mentions the 'horrors' of motherhood; and in another quote: 'I share the opinion of authors as diverse as François Perrier and André Gide, for whom feminine sexuality shelters in motherhood in order to live out its perversion and madness, which may also be a chance to work them through.' [Huh?] And what about: 'Analytical experience and my own existence have convinced me that happiness is only a kind of mourning for suffering (to paraphrase Madame de Staël, affirming that "glory is the splendid mourning for happiness")...' [Really? And is the word "paraphrase" the correct one to use here?:] And these are the more 'straightforward' sentences!
Taken as a whole, however, the book seems to be an apologia for Christianity (in particular the Roman Catholic type) and attempts to use the intricacies and complexities of late linguistic analyses to provide some kind of psychoanalytical argument to prop up certain 'values' of Catholicism, perhaps as a buttress against the more destructive urges of modern times. Pope John Paul II is a particular favourite, as are mystics such as Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, and perhaps even Francis of Assisi.
Kristeva wants her readers/hearers not to be afraid of European culture, and by that she seems to mean a certain type of Roman Catholic European culture. She seems to argue that we are somehow 'primed' to believe, and that somehow this entails an acceptance of 'suffering', but uses strange words and phrases to do this: 'The Judaeo-Christian paradise is an adolescent creation: the adolescent takes pleasure in the syndrome of paradise, which may also become a source of suffering, if absolute ideality takes a turn towards cruel persecution.' (p. 15).
In another section, she comes a cropper on the Roman Catholic theological front: 'Furthermore, although Christ is the 'Son', according to the Gospels, I shall take into consideration the logic according to which it is also the 'Father' ('God' himself) who is put to death in the passion (Saint Paul already reminded us of this, before Hegel and Nietzsche). Indeed, in the logic of the Trinity, it seems difficult to dissociate the suffering to death of the Son from that of the Father who is consubstantial with him.' (p. 57). This is heresy; it was known as Sabellianism (aka 'patripassianism' = 'the father suffers') and it was condemned by the Church in the 3rd. century CE.
In short: this work is obscure, confusing, difficult, and ultimately intensely unconvincing. Perhaps this is all the translator's fault? Or the publisher's? Columbia University Press apparently did not bother to have this work properly proofread — in the Index, for example, four references are given: Jean of the Cross (saint); Jean Paul II (pope); John of the Cross (saint); and John Paul II (pope). Each of these has separate, non overlapping page references, and yes, checking the text, they accurately reflect it.
The original work was an Italian publication entitled 'Bisogno di credere: Un punto di vista laico' which translates: 'The need for (or absence of) belief: A lay person's point of view.' which seems to be a more accurate description of the contents of this book. So why is it entitled 'This Incredible Need to believe'? This English title implies a very different take on the content of the book, one which perhaps is the real reason why I found it all a bit too much!
كتاب يتقاطع فيه التحليل النفسي و الفلسفة و الدين حول مسألة الاعتقاد و الدين . الترجمة جيدة مع وجود العديد من الاحالات في الهامش بحكم استعمال الكاتبة لغة تنتمي إلى مجال التحليل النفسي
I consider Kristeva an expert on narcissism. This to me seems like a great way to make her understanding more robust. What makes the Oedipal narcissism necessary at all? Because that’s a form of faith that occurs during the language phase. Where does this healthy level of faith or narcissism exist, and why?
I agree that there needs to be a confrontation of faith or belief in the psychological literature. Freud being the “most atheist” of his time is one of the big juxtapositions. That’s where I get lost. This critique, which is an important one, gets fixated on Christianity and Freud as a carrier of wisdom through religious history.
The intro talks about language, and how when we’re forming concepts of the world we must have certain forms of faith from the beginning. That’s such an interesting topic to study. What is the necessary attitude of a child to believe in their own understanding of the material universe when they’re forming language by phonetically correlating events with a caring environment?
But then the book gets oddly specific to Christianity as its deconstruction of sublimation through psychoanalysis. I think too much emphasis is being placed on Freud when the question of faith is such a good one that spans way outside psychology. Freud had enough faith in his own dreams to fill a large book. Why couldn’t we start there if we’re going to start with him? I wish the book got into more of the seemingly faithless deconstruction of reality through negation. And the use of affirmation. Since we got into Nietzsche…an even more belligerently atheist dude of the same time as Freud.
So, I think I have waited too long to encounter Kristeva; this is the first of her writings I've ever read, and I found it provocative, even moving.
The bulk of this (brief) book is an extensive interview with Carmine Donzelli that starts with the question, "Can one speak of the 'need to believe' from a secular point of view?," then ranges across topics including mysticism, adolescent suffering, the clash of fundamentalist faiths, missteps of secularism, feminine genius and others, within an overarching consideration of the need of a "radical reformation" in modern society and politics.
Several shorter essays are included that touch on themes of the interview. These further develop aspects of Kristeva's "non-believing" yet - could it be said? - faithful psychoananlytic appreciation of Christianity, above all Christianity's alchemy of suffering.
From time to time one doubts the diligence of the translator. Nonetheless, I think I am a new fan of Kristeva.
“Esa increíble necesidad de creer- Un punto de vista laico” de Julia Kristeva. Muy buen análisis de la necesidad de creer presente en todos los seres humanos, y como contrapartida la secularización de buena parte de la sociedad actual y sus consecuencias. Lo vinculo también con el comentario que hizo una docente en clase en la facultad, si mal no recuerdo Rosalia Rowensztein, acerca de lo que es , tal vez, cierto debilitamiento de la consistencia de la instancia superyoica en estos tiempos. Kristeva sabe articular dicho concepto y cómo todo esto está intrincado con la constitución del aparato psíquico. Más allá de las convicciones religiosas que tenga cada uno (y yo no las tengo al igual que la autora) es una análisis exhaustivo de la génesis y las consecuencias de la necesidad de creer, tanto en cada sujeto como en la sociedad postmoderna. Excelente lectura.
This book is not accessible at all. I feel the author is talking to her self and explaining to her self her own ideas instead of talking to someone who’s reading this book for the first time. Not recommended at all for the general reader.
———
Writing is hard. What is a style? What is a structure? What is a subject, what is a thought?
Do we write to write, or do you we write to be read?
———
I believe that such books as this one don’t live for long. They’re not original at all, they are just many thoughts / books crunched in juice mixer. This book is not a book, this book is a review on Frued.
Several people asked me about this book as I was reading it and being Catholic, assumed it was about why there are reasons for religious faith. Even the description on the outer/inner jacket suggest something like that. I think Kristeva gave the best summary of where she's coming from when she speaks of "prereligious belief." She's curious to understand the psychic space that exists before we start forming these identities of religion, politics, etc.
When people ask me "What do you believe?" I want to ask "What is belief?" Nobody seems to know. This is one of the few books I've found that gets near asking that question, and it is a humdinger.
Intellectually honest and radically humanist curated series of short essays interviews, lectures by one of my favourite thinkers. Julia Kristeva means a lot to me. She aims to elucidate the perilous paths of freedom & the fanned flames of dormant fundamentalism. To reform humanism to something that does not just dismiss religion as a relic, but analyses it as a biological and psychic necessity. The work expands on religion & secularism, sublimation & violence, dolorous complacent pain & kenotic sovereign suffering.
Kristeva recognises the socialising value of faith, but posits that the “need to believe” is a narcotic that makes living easier. One cannot speak without a fundamental ”life raft” of recognition, found in the Other. The adolescent is a believer, unlike the child who is a seeker of knowledge, the adolescent searches for an absolute erotic object, when this syndrome of idealism is disappointed by reality, the adolescent may fall into nihilism, vandalism, suicide or self destructive behaviour. She also manages, in these few pages, to rescue motherhood from being seen as biological function, restoring it to its true value: feminine genius, the vital bridge between animal instincts and human culture.
Idealism, exiles of the self / transference in the Other, displacement of the divine, entry into language, separation from the thalassic mother. Incestuous nuptials of the son and the beaten-to-death father, wed in common suffering. A paradise of masochism found under the whip of faith. Our God Logos, Père-version and frame-mogging.
The language is, at times, hard to understand (albeit a big improvement compared to powers of horror). “ideas too grand and abstract to come out in language” - my dear friend B.
Perhaps one day, after centuries spent trudging in this desert of our own making. Humanity will find itself on a distant, distant shore where, through the miracle of grace we will finally reclaim the abundance we lost at the Fall.
There are some interesting thoughts here and there, but overall inaccessible, a jumbled mash of thoughts and a misleading title... it's hard to say whether it's because of the writer or the translator, but I'd guess a bad mix of both. Many paragraphs that are single run-on sentences with five authors cross-referenced, five sets of parentheses, and five semicolons would make even a well-structured argument a bit of a headache to follow. No idea, no matter how complex, needs seventeen phrases set off by em dashes within a single sentence to be explained. Some good ideas. Poor writing.
exquisite elucidation of freud (or psychoanalytic motherhood) and faith; when Kristeva talks of suffering as a profound Catholic act (with the invocation of St. John of the Cross and the feminine mystical divine that is St. Teresa of Avila) she moves me, when she upholds europe or franco-culture in a weird angle and/or speaks as limited about Islam (or anything that is not of Christianity) she loses me.
i had to read this for a humanities class on “the sacred”. unintelligible jumbled writing style. incoherent like it was auto-translated by an inexperienced AI program. once u sift thru her obfuscatory language, her ideas are not even all that great. basically: religious experience all boils down to daddy issues. Freud Freud Freud. oedipal father. sadomasochism. tons of fun. kristeva says she’s an atheist but won’t shut up about the genius of catholicism. psychoanalysis is her religion, Oedipus is her god, Freud is her pope, and psychoanalysts are the priests.
It took a bit of muscling through some of the dense academic abstractions, but I did come away with some very useful insights about belief and culture.