Julia Kristeva | site officiel




"The Psychic Life: A Life in Time”


Dear Carol, dear friends,


         First of all thank you for being here; thank you for your support and for the innovative and stimulating work you’ve presented and discussed here.  A warm thank you to Carol and the team at the university of Pittsburgh and to the donors who’ve made this gathering of the Kristeva Circle possible, the fourth since the very first assembly in 2011 at Siena College of NY State University followed by subsequent conferences hosted by the universities of Vanderbilt (2014), Memphis( 2015) and Stockholm (2016).

         We gather today once again in the paradoxical situation I’ve often alluded to — it’s through the English translation of my books that you know and follow my work: yet it is in French that I express myself best, though I will try to respond - perhaps clumsily — in your idiom, which today is universal.  Please excuse my insufficient English:  it’s easiest for me to read my talk.  I trust you understand.   Regarding this paradox, and in an attempt to shorten the distance between us, I’ve chosen not to give a conference in the strict sense of the word but more casually to present, in a conversation style, a series of answers to questions I suspect you might have regarding me, my writing, my work and my engagements. 

         This was also the intention behind my latest book, Je me voyage  (Fayard, 2016), in which my life and my work intersect.  It’s not yet translated into English but I’ll give you a sort of sneak preview. 

         The work in which I’ve been most absorbed these last few years is psychoanalysis — both in the clinical sense and as a lever for interpreting the new malaises of civilisation.  Hence the title I’ve given to these reflections today:  The Psychic Life: A Life in Time.

Psychoanalysis and Culture

         Je me voyage (Kristeva, 2016) is an autobiographical text in the form of interviews with a young friend psychologist Samuel Dock.  The title’s neologism  gives a nod to my foreign status in the French language which has largely determined my psychosexual positioning in research and in writing; this psychic experience – foreign to the used language – has been central to my life’s trajectory (which I will not elaborate on here.)  In my familial context, culture constituted a world that made life liveable — and I experienced life, due to the importance accorded to language, as survival, as an intimate resistance and creativity inherent in social time. 

         Freud’s revolutionary theory of the unconscious and the transference/countertransference relationship proposes an overhaul of the dichotomies inherited from metaphysics:  body and mind, animal and social, nature and culture.  This bold reshaping of culture arouses fear not only in relation to the social contract, which rejects it, given that it is based on and structured by dualities, but also in relation to the bipartism of our institutions and the foundational "disciplines" of the educational and cultural system.  Psychoanalysts themselves, who practice and refine the reshaping, contribute to the perpetuation of this metaphysical inheritance by isolating themselves in many cases from what is at stake in culture.  I have called into question linguistic models, constituted by and emerging out of the signifier/signified structures and their grammatical and logical articulation.  Was it my transgenerational history, my crossing of boundaries within and outside of myself, which led me to do this?  It seemed to me important to shake up their grid, cut off as it is from the corporal experience.  It was my clinical practice of transference/countertransference and the influence of Klein and Winnicott’s work as well as André Green's work on the psychosomatic drives (Green, 1971) that motivated me to do so.  I then developed an approach to literary creation and, in fact, all discourses, that stemmed from a language model conceived not as a "structure" but as a signifiance, that is, as a process with two modalities, the semiotic, and the symbolic.  By symbolic I am referring to the psyche, constituted by language – its morphologics, syntax, logic, while the  semiotic is pre- or trans-language:  the infraverbal traces of instinctual drives, affects, and sensations which impregnate, transform, and sometimes absorb the verbal (Kristeva, 1974). 

         From the outset I have addressed these zones of interference between nature and culture: “La chair des mots” – the flesh of words.  Freud himself, evoking Greek mythology and the European Renaissance, from Leonardo da Vinci to Stefan Zweig, said that poets "preceded" us on the royal road to psychoanalysis. This wandering Jew, son of the Enlightenment, inherited from his Jewish tradition the invitation to listen (Shema!) in order to interpret.  Convinced of the universal importance of his discovery, he was able to open it up to history, and beyond the crises of European culture, to the human itself, to Homo sapiens understood as Homo religiosus.  The Primal Horde, Totem and Taboo, Egypt and Moses, War and Peace, Civilisation And Its Discontents followed.  Beyond Sigmund Freud, the man, this intrinsically religious and political anchoring in cultural memory constitutes the very structure of the psychoanalytical position itself and of its discours, both with and through the techniques Freud bequeathed.  My efforts in the human sciences inscribes itself in this lineage, consciously or unconsciously, when I attempt to introduce Freudian interpretation into the theoretical models of today, to open them up to the confrontation with the unconscious and vice versa. Yet, this concern to renew psychoanalytic tools, to make them more relevant in the face of the "new maladies of the soul" (Kristeva, 1993), to tense traumatic situations, "borderline" conditions, and other "unbindings," also carries with it the danger of becoming overly involved in highly technical metapsychologies and thus to be cut off from current social and anthropological mutations. 

Psychoanalysis as Discovery or Rediscovery

         In my mind and practice psychoanalysis is a constant reinvention--attentive to its foundations and history—on condition that it is continuously re-embodied in the subjectivity of the analyst, herself/himself evolving in the counter-transferential relation with her/his patient:  the pöetics of interpretation bear witness to this alchemy.  Interpretation is a passion that is open both to self-analysis and to the time of history into which the timelessness of the unconscious erupts.  The “framework of the cure” is inscribed in historical movement and if analysts forget this, they fail to address psychic life.  The psychic life is always situated in time.  In this sense, the question of culture, past, present, and to come, is consubstantial with psychic life, understood not as a "device" but as a life whose finite nature is embedded in history.  My personal trajectory through its challenges, traumas, pleasures, failures, rewards, etc., has taught me this.  I refer here to moments of enlightened understanding, rebounds and luck — or rather chance, as seen through the lens of game theory, not unlike "objective chance" in the "dialectic" of history, - and I try to sum up in Je me voyage.

         In my familial constellation, my mother was very present, while at the same time leaving ample room for my father.  Modest, warm, she studied biology and was a convinced Darwinian.  My father, raised by his adoptive mother, was a believer, very literary, and tender—in the feminine sense of this drive.  Everything was in place for psychic bisexuality to develop in me.  There was another historical event in my childhood, as random as it was fortunate:  Alphabet Day, celebrated on May 24th in Bulgaria, the celebration of Slavic alphabet which the brothers Cyril and Methodius invented twelve centuries ago.  The cultural and educational milieus went on parade.  Everyone sported a letter.  I incarnated words, names, sentences.  I loved this ritual, linked to history, to culture, which celebrated a kind of transfusion of the person into writing.

         It was another piece of luck — or rather chance — to discover Freud and psychoanalysis.  Confronting their current debasement, I emphasise in my lectures and writings that going into analysis is an internal experience enabling a person to situate herself in openness, in the sens of Heidegger.  I explain to young psychoanalysts I supervise that in the transmission of the analytical act, we are not working in the margins but on the tangent between our knowledge and the vagaries of history. The technical framework of analysis is tangential to historical movement.  It is of course necessary to maintain the counterphobic role of the framework and theory, given that they enable connections to be made by reconstituting narcissism and the ego ideal in the cure’s "working through process".  At the same time, it is indispensable to open the ear up to what analysand experiences in the here and now. 

         Our work is not to meet the social demand but to hear the social malaise.  Today, civilisation’s malaise resides in this threat weighing on psychic space, on inner life.”  It’s up to analysts to find a relevant and acceptable language to pave the way for subjectivation in the transference;  but it is equally crucial for us to be heard outside of our framework”.  This presents a double challenge because the analyst must show psychic flexibility while maintaining the technical rigour of the container.  If she or he is fine-tuned in her/his accompaniment of the patient, she/he is able to detect new symptoms and generate new concepts.  Yes, believe me, research does exist in psychoanalysis though it is not sufficiently understood:  it explores borderline conditions, the early mother-child relationship, even autism and now radicalisation.”

         In order to position psychoanalysis in history and/or actuality , there is also the matter of translating the technical side of our savoir-faire and providing key elements of this inner experience we witness to other caregivers — psychotherapists, relaxation therapists, physical therapists, etc. so that they can have a clearer grasp of the social malaise and thus help their patients, who, although not in analysis, might find other ways of accessing their inner lives.  Squeezed by accelerated time and hyperconnection, the interior life becomes suspended in a stressed and stressful daily existence, dominated by media images which encapsulate and threaten to destroy all inner experience.  How do we deal with this constant incitement to partake in the Spectacle, exhibitionism,  narcissism, social media, selfies?  This widely shared behaviour is a major social phenomenon that begs to be analysed.  In what ways is it both toxic and liberating, in contact with the violence of trauma and desire?  To problematise the present, to find an audible language, and to occupy a freely determined space, such are the challenges psychoanalysts must face.  We have to maintain both poles firmly — new techniques and a double anchoring in both subjectivity and culture. 

Psychoanalysis as a Translation of Traumas and Their Trajectory

         Allow me a little detour through Europe:  it's a very fragile place for many reasons and especially because 23 languages are spoken there.  Translation is the European language.  As a professor directing the theses of foreign students and as a psychoanalyst working with patients whose mother tongue is not French, I have been observing a psychic renaissance expressed in  polylingualism and the act of translating.  Given that both analyst and analysand are socio-historical agents, interpreting the unconscious of the analysand, that is, what he says unawares, constitutes already a translation of traumas and desires.  One bets on the translatability of traumas and thus on their trajectory, their working-through.

         Bringing this knowledge of the psyche to light on the social and cultural stage is not easy.  It falls to each of us to make use of the rigorous tools of our respective fields, to confront the social crises (identity, the need to believe, populism, fundamentalism) and the new social agents (adolescents, different sexual orientations and reproductive modalities).  It's a question not so much of an engagement as a co-presence, providing a neighbouring framework (of the cure) in and through its socio-historical environment.  One begins with the relevant interpretation in the framework, then its transmission, understood as a translation-interpretation of historical change, addressed to the social body in movement.

Three Anthropological Changes

         Never has humanity known an anthropological mutation as radical and widespread as the one we are experiencing today.  Technology moves forward with dizzying speed.  Communication has never been so global, extraordinary in its diversity and heterogeneity.

1)  Our relation to time  is both hyper accelerated and suspended.  It becomes suspended in melancholy or in borderline conditions, and also in drug addiction and jihadism.  It's a time of sacrifice, a maniacal narcissistic exaltation which literally explodes both the traumatisers and the traumatised.  But it's also a suspension of jouissance, lived out as the drive-based avidity experienced by the consumers that we are.  We can equally consider this suspensionof time in a more abstract, mathematical way, given that cosmologists claim time doesn't exist in interstellar space, in the multiverse and other dark matter.  Never has temporality been so paradoxical and yet accessible.  But who has access to these different facets of temporality if not the analyst and her/his analytic process where the dynamics of transference, repetition and finitude inscribe themselves in a beginning, without end?  This process encompasses transgenerational clusters as well as reticular adaptation fantasies and flashes of sharp idealisations along with sacrificial hallucinatory holograms.  Only analysts have access to all of the above temporalities expressed through singular experiences.  That is to say, by way of an extended rationality aligned with analytic rationality. Philosophers, ethnologists and politicians simply do not operate on this level.  In my last novel, The Enchanted Clock (Fayard/Columbia University Press, 2015/2017), I try to sublimate in fiction these complex subjective temporalities. 

2)  The reordering of sexual difference. Psychic bisexuality is omnipresent but articulated in different ways in history. I ended my essay on Feminine Genius (Arendt, Klein, Colette, Fayard, 1999, 2000, 2002) by affirming that there are more than two sexes and that we invent our singular sex in our intimate life:  this process is always a creative act.  The end of an analysis opens up the capacity to make connections, to play, and, adopting Winnicott's words, to recreate one's psychosexuality continually, with or without a partner, with Love, or in the shadow of that "big fat Love," (to quote the "great Colette" whose connection to plants and animals enabled her to thrive), or in the caring professions, like psychoanalysis.  Although repression of sexuality also returns with galloping speed, despite and alongside marriage equality and other praise for "enjoyment without restraint" (“jouir sans entraves”), there is also the tendency to free sexuality from inhibition by restoring its creativity:  and psychoanalysis participates in this movement, which plumbs the depths of psychic and trans-psychic structures inaccessible to the sociologist, anthropologist, or philosopher.

3)  The third change was that of "the religious."  The current global resurgence of religion came to me as a surprise:  I consider myself one of the rare atheists remaining on earth.  As a psychoanalyst, I observe the importance of what I call the "need to believe," a universal and pre-religious anthropological need, which I examine through the lens of what Freud calls a cathexis – Besetzung in German.  The need to believe and the desire to know, never one without the other, are the universal conditions for human beings to be able to talk  and relate to each other.  Psychoanalysis is alone in its ability to lift the denial weighing upon this need to believe.  It does so in order to take the measure of the sexual dimension in it and to interpret it in the transferential and counter-transferential relationship.  Without compromise.

The Need to Believe

         One cannot be content to say that Freud reduces religion to an illusion and a source of neurosis, and that the analytic experience itself is not a stranger to "belief" in the broad sense of the term (Kristeva, 2007, p. 28).  Steeped in the Jewish tradition, but atheist, and conscious of the anthropological place of the religious, Freud is at the same time a child of the Enlightenment.  According to Sartre, atheism is a "cruel and long-term experience."  In Moses and Monotheism, Freud makes Moses an Egyptian:  this is a cruel deconstruction of the origines of Judaism, making Egyptian monotheism its starting point. But one can also read this as an invitation to inscribe the Torah in the history of humanity.  An intransigent atheist, Freud underlines in "The Resistances to Psychoanalysis" that "Nor is it perhaps entirely a matter of chance that the first advocate of psycho-analysis was a Jew.  To proffer belief in this new theory, called for a certain degree of readiness to accept a situation of solitary opposition – a situation with which no one is more familiar than a Jew." [notice the ‘need to believe’ in this reflection, in which he seems to be stating part of a last will and testament]

         In the spirit of the Enlightenment — Goethe and Diderot —  Freud joins Nietzsche who proclaims that it remains for us to place a big question mark at the most serious place,” that is, God, precisely, but also all identity, value, or system of meaning.  The Future of an Illusion and Moses and Monotheism invite us to pursue reevaluating this religious cultural legacy, with which secularisation cut the strings.  Certain analysts have responded, for instance, Fethi Benslama with Islam, Daniel Sibony with Judaism.  For my part, I have probed Catholic mysticism with Teresa of Avila’s texts revealing an extravagant and so modern feminine figure (Teresa, My Love, Columbia University Press, 2016 [2008]. 

Adolescence and Unbinding

         In my article of January 2016, How Can One be Jihadist?”, following the killings in France (Charlie Hebdo and at the Bataclan), I raise the question as to how to stop the unbinding when adolescent ideality illness leads to nihilism.  At the Home for the Adolescent (Maison de Solenn), at Cochin Hospital, a co-ed and multicultural team in enthnopsychiatry admits young people struggling with depression and a solitary destructivity which they cannot put words to or share with anyone.  They are at risk for suicide attempts, anorexia, and radicalisation.  Those prone to radicalisation repress the injury of exclusion while appearingnormal”; they are ready to take off for jihad.  Without judging or diagnosing, the team listens, aware of the need to understand and interpret exclusion wounds and religious memory.  My seminar on "The Need to Believe" (first at the University of Paris-VII and for five years with Professor Marie-Rose Moro at the Maison de Solenn) flushed out harmful behaviour – the faithful Muslim submitting to "mass orthodoxy" (see Abdennour Bidar, phylosopher from muslim origin) which, by ignoring the individual, by reducing women to prey, spreads a culture of death throughout radical and political Islam.  The intense desire to transcend oneself, so common to adolescents with their frustrations can, in certain circumstances, be perverted into "radical evil" (Kant).  By listening to them, we can help adolescents in the grips of "an ideality illness" succeed in "finding flesh in words" (la “chair des mots”) and "thinking on their own" in an intercultural space to regain confidence and become invested in the desire to live. 

         I'm not setting up an opposition between the analytic cure and the therapeutic practices of social work.  I'm putting them side-by-side.  Of course, to speak of our findings in psychoanalytical practice to the larger public requires a discursive flexibility that takes into account the listener's ability to understand.

         At the Maison de Solenn, the container is provided by the intercultural ethno-psychiatric team while I offer a Seminar open to the caregiving staff who have the desire and curiosity to know the religious facts, to engage with the texts and interpretations they arouse, especially those based on clinical psychoanalysis.

Radical Evil and the Secular

          Enlightenment’s secularisation refashioned morality which was until then dominated by religion.  For Kant, “free will” itself has a shadowy side:  it becomes "corrupted," losing the sense of the moral distinction between good and evil.  This is the "radical evil," which Hannah Arendt diagnoses in analysing totalitarianism and the Holocaust, when certain human beings declare others superfluous.  Pogroms, religious wars, ethnic conflicts, colonialism, amok . . . follows. . .  Here we're touching on not only "threats to freedom," but also on what I will call the malignity of the psychic apparatus:  destructivity, giving free rein to the death instinct--hallucinatory states, the move to savage acts, decapitations and kamikazes – in short, are inherent dimension of the human psyche.  This malignity may be to different degrees sublimated, worked through or bound in neurotic structures, explosive borderline conditions and "'as if' personalities."  When they involve the psyche of the adolescents, for instance, we call this break-down an “unbinding” – déliaison.  Religions, which in the past, and in the best of cases, utilised and ritualised these states of unbinding (déliaison), are now incapable of dealing with them.  Whereas the secular State needs firmness and subtulty, its de-radicalisation centres" are virtually powerless. 

         At the Collège des Bernardins, with a panel of religious and non-religious intellectuals we created the Montesquieu Circle to discuss our experiences and convictions regarding recent world events.  In this setting, I’ve spoken about my perspective on adolescents unbinding (“déliaison”), and the work we do at Cochin.  Such borderline cases dominated by negativity do not spare female psychosexuality.  Some women cover themselves in burkinis, others are ready to procreate for Allah, or indeed, become human bombs themselves.  Our research on hysteria straddling psychosis, perversions, and false selves, among other symptoms, has not entered into the social arena, which remains unaware of or refuses to discuss it. 

     In a text I wrote some time ago, I proposed to conceptualize adolescence not only as an age , but as an adolescent structure, outlined by Helen Deutch:  a fragile structure, a revision of the Oedipal one, entrenched in puberty's drives ("Les secrets d'une analyste," 1986, reprinted in Kristeva, 1993, p. 294), it persists in adults.  When the belief in the absolute, the quest for an ideal, fails, this adolescent structure reverses itself in a destructive force against the self-with-the-other.  No link to any "object" survives for these "subjects" who are not subjects, only the death drive triumphs (see André Green, Unbinding, 1971-1992). 

         Better than other approaches of the religious sort, the secular perspective is able to assure the passage from the need to believe to the desire to know — provided it has access to the proper means and tools.  Our priority as a secular society must be education, combined with a substantial increase in the status of a "teaching and training corps."  This arrangement would provide individualised support for psychosexual malaise, from the need to believe to the desire to know, in order to create a true path forward above the deepening abyss and the threat of war.  Media, culture, and politics should be offering new and attractive civic ideals.  Indeed, this should be the top priority of our hyperconnected globalised world; this alone — through shared cultural diversity — can protect humanity.

The Abject and Abjection

         In the case of the adolescent, the desire to know goes hand in hand with the need to believe.  This adolescent desireto invest the primal scene of the parents a sexual curiosity and fulfilment — is demonstrated in the affirmation of homoeroticism and in the discovery of genitality.  Here, too, religions exercise their domination.  At the same time, the undergoing changes in parenthood today all too often exposes adolescents to severe psychic solitude, despite, or rather, because of the normalisation of hyperconnected information (see "Métamorphoses de la parentalité," Kristeva, 2013). 

         Unbinding also resonates with the genesis of abjection in my practice.  This is a notion I explored as early as 1980 in Powers of Horror:  An Essay on Abjection and at the time of the Louvre exhibit, The Severed Head:  Capital Visions (Visions capitales, 1998).  In this context, I wrote that "the image may be the only link with the sacred remaining to us:  with the horror provoked by death and sacrifice, with the serenity flowing from the pact of identification between sacrificed and sacrifiers, and with the joy of representation, which cannot be dissociated from sacrifice, its only possible trajectory" (Kristeva, 1998, p. 11).

         "Abjection" or the abject is what is neither subject, nor object but unceasingly returns, disgusts, rejects, fascinates.  It is near but not able to be assimilated.  Different from the uncanny, "abjection is elaborated through a failure to recognise its kin" (Kristeva, 1980, p. 9 and 13; English translation, pp. 1 and 5).

         But there are many manners and degrees of unbinding.  A very conflictual relationship with the primary maternal figure often precedes the unbinding of adolescent structures:  submission, a swallowing up by maternal domination, a reduction of the subject to a hallucinatory state desiring avid satisfactions, on the border of psychosis and delirium.  There may be maternal domination and submission, which is, at one and the same time, rejected, fled, and also sought after, in order to be recovered once again in an all-powerful tyranny that is posted as divine, irrevocable, and unquestionable.  What some call the "mass orthodoxy" of fundamentalist Islam finds its archaic cornerstone in unbinding and in abjection.

         I was listening to a desperate mother who lamented, "I was so close to my daughter, she told me everything, we were on the phone 24/7 and, all of a sudden, she disappeared.  She left to have a thousand children for jihadists" – is this not a flagrant example of abjection?  The young girl and her mother, too, have been invaded, cannibalised, without realising it – the daughter cannot stand this blurring of subject and object, which makes her abject."  She believes she's saving herself by giving herself over to abusive males, who reduce her to a sacrificial motherhood that is imperative, absolute, and without doubt, victimising.  She will thus be every bit as devoid of subjectivity as before:  abject.

         The abjection that is the Bataclan tragedy (in November 2015, Paris) derives from the gangster fundamentalism of our ghettoised suburbs.  This delinquency, prime for radicalisation (so common in prisons) reveals that the religious treatment of adolescent revolt has discredited itself.  These young people do not adhere to the cultural values and republican ideals of their country eather.  Suffering from a lack of identity and social marginalisation, troubled youth might first embrace a "native identity" and, subsequently turn to forms of extremism.  They are struggling with affective crises out of our reach, with no recourse to the questioning made available through language and thought.  Torn in pieces, they can no longer distinguish between good and evil.  Such a state of “unbinding” destroys the possibility of gaining a sense of self and of the existence of others.  The avidity for absolute satisfaction then takes the shape of the destruction of everything that is not this satisfaction --annihilating the boundary between self and other, interior and exterior:  "je/te tue--il/me tue."  Murder and suicide become blurred, as they did at the Bataclan.

         My text on abjection came to me in the course of my analysis and through my scholarly writing.  I was in the process of preparing a book on Céline (Pouvoirs de l'horreur, op. cit.).  It was hard to get a handle on the abyss opening up between my revolt against his anti-Semitic violence and the emotion which his fiction aroused in me.  His novels, from Voyage to the End of the Night to Castle to Castle, are a veritable "opera of the deluge" – “Opéra du déluge”, Céline writes.  Borderline states, idiocy and brothel-speak, all are swept up in a prose as precise and classical as it is vernacular, musical, and vulgar.  Sentences persists in the ellipses, flooded by sensation, affect, and drives both horrible and sublime. But how to name this power of horror?  My mother was visiting France.  She took care of David who was teething and not sleeping at night and, for that matter, neither was I.  I'm on Ilse Barande's couch:  "I don't know how to manage all of it, the baby, my mother, and this Céline, with his Voyage to the End of the Night – tu parles! – all massacre, horror, abjection."  My analyst responds: "That's the word for it."  I leave the session relieved, with a feeling of deliverance more than the certainty of "mastering my subject."  It's the mother/child confusion, attraction/repulsion, the uncertainty of subjectivation and objectivation.  Sublimating or working through?  Clearly both.  Mary Douglas, the ethnologist, studied soiling and purification rites in so-called primitive societies.  So I took the word abjection, and tried to elucidate food taboos in Leviticus, Christian sins . . . even Céline.

         My psychoanalyst Ilse Barande deserves to be better known.  Her writing on primary avidity, perversion, "mère-version" and also Le Maternel singulier should be reprinted and translated.  My analyst, who was a German Jew, understood the word : “abjection”.  Yet, neither of us spoke French as our native language.  Analysis takes shape in the lived experience of transference/counter-transference, if and only if it opens us to a way of life and of thinking that is increasingly personal, attuned to the senses.  This was to lead me to write novels.

Thank you again for  your interest in my work and the experiences that have informed it.  I’ve tried to share this with you today in a more personal way.  Most of all thank you for the papers you’ve presented.  I am looking forward to the pleasure of reading them. 


Julia Kristeva, trans. Carol Mastrangelo Bové


Works Cited and/or Consulted

Green A. (1971), La Déliaison, Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 1992.

J. Kristeva, La Révolution du langage poétique. L'avant-garde à la fin du XIXe siècle: Lautréamont et Mallarmé, Seuil, 1974.

Kristeva J., Pouvoirs de l’horreur. Essai sur l’abjection, Paris, Le Seuil, 1980.

Kristeva J., Les Nouvelles Maladies de l'âme, Paris, Fayard, 1993.

Kristeva J., Visions capitales, Paris, Réunion des musées nationaux, 1998. Réédité en Visions capitales. Arts et rituels de la décapitation, La Martinière, 2013.

Kristeva J., Cet incroyable besoin de croire, Paris, Bayard, 2007.

Kristeva J., « La reliance ou de l’érotisme maternel », Revue française de psychanalyse, t. LXXV, n° 5, 2011, p. 1559-1570.

Kristeva J., « Métamorphoses de la parentalité », 73e  CPLF, Congrès de psychanalyse de langue française, Le Paternel, 2013, p. 1650-1657.

Kristeva J., Thérèse mon amour, Fayard, 2008.

Kristeva J., Je me voyage. Mémoires. Entretiens avec Samuel Dock, Paris, Fayard, 2016.




The Kristeva Circle 2017 Meeting


October 27-28 University of Pittsburgh

Conference Program



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