I have suggested that the yearning to repair a rent in a selfobject relationship constitutes the underlying need that gives rise to the oc- cult m o o d . A special selfobject, the maternal figure, seems impli- cated in all the cases examined so far. These experiences with the mother are very early and so prior to the development of logical thinking. T h e actor engaged in the occult m o m e n t is not aware of the connection b e t w e e n need and response. E v e n persons of creative ge- nius, like Augustine and Jung, look consistently outside themselves for the source of their m o o d .
Bertram L e w i n , a generation before Kohut, observed a similar fea- ture in elated m o o d s . "In the elations, I suggest that the feeling of
conviction and subjective certainty about the validity of the happy m o o d repeats an element in the nursing situation."2 W e have no direct
reports from infants of their actual thoughts during the first years of life. But like Kohut, Lewin relies upon psychoanalytic data, gathered from work with highly regressed adult patients, to reconstruct those preverbal moods. In moments of elation adults recapture those m o - ments most directly symbolized by the mother's breast: "The world of observation and instruction is treated as something secondhand, while the stamp of 'truth' lies . . . in the subjective experience, preidea- tional and oral, which in the elation is the repetitive subjective experi- ence of having been nursed."3 Lewin's terms and overall theory are not identical to those of Kohut, but his observations coincide with Kohut's basic formulations about the maternal selfobject: She is that real, ex- ternal entity whose affection permits the infant to consolidate, slowly, a coherent self.
In the occult m o o d one does not doubt that there is an actual, real person out there. The mother's actual existence is not questioned. She is not unreal, or a mere shadow. Rather, in occult moments she is per- ceived to be unavailable. W e recall Mr. Z's mother, w h o was shut off in her o w n depression. The mother's actual retreat from the child and her inability to be pleased by her child casts a pall over all the child's later narcissistic pleasures. A talented physician, for example, w h o is the son of a depressed mother, may recognize his achievements as real and his work as important, but he feels no vitality and no sense of coherent purpose and value. The glass wall that he felt between himself and his mother now exists within himself. It permits him to recognize that he ought to be happy, but prevents him from experiencing that pleasure.
The occult mood recaptures a state of need and locates the solution to that need in the outer world. A distinguishing characteristic of all occult experience is the search outside oneself for that real (solid, actual, tangi- ble) object which, when found, will fit perfectly one's inner needs.
Given this, it is not surprising that Kohut's theorem about the need for selfobject relationships will strike those devoted to occult solutions as irrelevant to their interests and concerns. Kohut requires one to examine the actual series of events that lead up to an occult experience. As in any other instance when a person feels a sudden loss of narcissistic stability, a person caught up in the occult must be responding to a perception of failure in a crucial selfobject relationship. That is, w e must suppose that the occult m o o d is itself the product of a causal chain. Like other moods, to be caught up in an occult event is to be a different self, often an old self, that has reemerged in a particular circumstance and n o w claims our allegiance.
Types of Moods: Moods as Self-states
Christopher Bollas, a contemporary psychoanalyst, has discussed the topic of moods in a series of thoughtful articles.4 H e describes the
"autistic" flavor of being in a mood: "Whilst in a m o o d a part of the individual's total self withdraws into a generative autistic state in order that a complex internal task be allowed time and space to work itself through."5 Bollas employs Winnicott's general orientation and terminology. I rely upon those of Kohut. I believe that w e are both concerned with a feeling state, one that outsiders m a y term "de- pressive" or "grandiose" yet that, to the person "in the mood," is a vital effort to "establish fragments of former self-states."6
Although Bollas focuses primarily upon moods that analytic patients experience in their treatment, I believe that his conclusions are valid for the occult m o o d as well. In the many instances of occult experience described above, w e find consistently a m o o d of despair over loss of the selfobject and a subsequent drive to reestablish contact with a re- placement: the object of occult belief. In contrast, normal grieving includes a continuous process of recognizing, slowly, that the loved one really is lost and that one will survive that loss.
Because moods are inherently narcissistic, that is, involve the person in the m o o d to such an extent that other people become less important, they do not lend themselves to a traditional, altruistic value system.
In other words, people in a m o o d are generally subjected to numerous moralisms, for example, Snap out of it! Bollas's insights about the restorative capacity of m o o d help clarify m y argument about the oc- cult mood. The latter cannot (and ought not) be explained away as a mere regression from object relatedness, nor as a defense against ac- tual, current struggles in the real world of the here and now.
Rather, "moods are . . . complex self states that may establish a mnemonic environment in which the individual re-experiences and re- creates former infant-child experiences and states of being."7 At the same time that he values this "restorative" capacity of moods, Bollas does not suggest that moods alone are sufficient to effect lasting free- d o m and personal growth. That greater goal emerges out of the two- person group of analyst and patient.
I believe that this is true of occult moods as well. That is, I believe that w e ought to credit the occult m o o d with demonstrating the exist- ence of severe narcissistic suffering. But w e should not suppose that the m o o d itself or occult solutions are ideal responses to narcissistic deficits. I try to show w h y this is so in the last part of this chapter. At this point I merely record another statement from Bollas, w h o writes
that "living through a mood is one of the idioms for the establishment of an environment."8 I try to s h o w that this is true of the occult m o o d as well. H o w e v e r , the environment established by occult belief is only two-dimensional. It lacks a vital sustaining quality that seems available only in actual relationships with actual persons.
Narcissistic Rage and the Attack
o n Selfobjects
T o outsiders, the newly discovered selfobject m a y appear ridiculous and worthy only of derision and attack. But to attack another person's occult object or occult belief is to attack the legitimacy of that person's needs expressed in the occult m o o d . W h e n C o n a n Doyle learned that Houdini had contradicted Mrs. Doyle's claims that she had contacted Houdini's dead mother, the great novelist was saddened and despondent. A lesser m a n might have b e c o m e enraged and sought revenge. In both cases, the failure of the other person to value the importance one places on an occult object is tantamount to dismissing the selfobject needs it repre- sents. A s w e saw above, w h e n people feel themselves under such attack their response is narcissistic rage. O n e must defend one's right to feel coherent and worthy.
In spite of all these valid and important considerations, one must con- clude that occult solutions are not ideal. In their worst instances, occult solutions verge on ludicrous and masochistic actions; in their best they merge into a kind of religiosity long associated with British Spiritualism and similar well-established occult traditions. In this chapter I propose to distinguish between occult solutions to narcissistic suffering and al- ternative solutions. I do so by considering parts of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's great autobiographical work, Truth and Fiction.9
In this remarkable work, Goethe describes m o m e n t s of despair and m o m e n t s of triumph, especially during his adolescent years. During that time he struggled to consolidate his apprehensions of his o w n genius.
This burden, added to the usual tasks of adolescence, produced m o m e n t s of severe anxiety in the young m a n . A s w e can n o w predict, w h e n these anxieties threatened to overwhelm him, to fragment his self, Goethe had occult experiences. In this sense, Truth and Fiction, like the other autobiographical accounts w e have considered, serves us as an ad- mirable case history. But the book is m o r e than that, just as Goethe is more than a patient. For Goethe offers us not just an illustration of oc- cult experiences in a person of genius. H e also offers us a w a y to distin- guish occult solutions to fragmentation anxiety from another kind of solution. This other solution is provided by artistic insight. T o prefigure our discussion below, occult solutions to fragmentation anxiety struggle
to preserve the self against change. Artistic solutions to fragmentation anxiety embrace the reality of change but find within change itself
an unvarying pattern. That unvarying pattern, what Goethe calls
"constancy in change," signifies the possibility of a permanent self, not fragmented by time or even death.
Goethe was not immune to fragmentation anxiety. But, at least as indicated in his autobiography, Goethe had no fear of madness, that is, complete fragmentation. Rather, the source of Goethe's anxiety was the more subtle narcissistic pressure he felt when he perceived the extent of his literary gifts. Thanks to a wealthy family and brilliant teachers, Goethe recognized early that he had within himself the mak- ings of rare genius. In response to that pressure the young m a n fabri- cated a number of fascinating ploys to give himself time to mature as an artist. In the following I stress these factors and their relationship to the occult experiences Goethe describes throughout the early portion of his autobiography. Numerous analytic authors have discussed other, equally important, dimensions of Goethe's life.10