Psychic Bisexuality and Creativity: Int J Psychoanal

Copyrighted Material. For use only by Exeter. Reproduction prohibited.
Usage subject to PEP terms & conditions

(see terms.pep-web.org).
Int J Psychoanal 2003; 84:1451–1467
Psychic bisexuality and creativity

FAUSTA FERRARO
Via Bernardo Cavallino 91/C, I–80131 Napoli, Italy — ferrarof@unina.it
(Final version accepted 20 May 2003)
This contribution is complementary to a previous publication (Ferraro, 2001),

which examined the role of bisexuality in psychopathology. This second article
concentrates on the relationship between psychic bisexuality and creativity. After a
brief clari cation regarding the relationship between psychic bisexuality and option
of gender, the author takes up two meanings of the bisexuality concept, both of
which are of pre-eminent signi cance to him. The rst is psychic bisexuality as a
quality of the self related to the feminine and masculine as pure elements; the second
is psychic bisexuality as an expression of identi cation with both parents, mother
and father. The author presents the thoughts of various authors who have examined
the link between psychic bisexuality and creativity, based on the same foundation,
and then puts forward the hypothesis that in some blocks of creativity an alteration
to psychic bisexuality can be traced. This hypothesis is illustrated through two
clinical cases that focus on the dynamics impeding creative capacities and illustrate
how these dynamics are gradually overcome. In the rst more detailed case, he
presents a lack of masculine elements, while in the second, using a brief part of an
analysis, he presents a predominant lack of feminine elements.
Keywords: bisexuality, creativity, blocks of creativity, disharmony,

bisexual, ambisexual
In this article I intend to focus upon the role of psychic bisexuality in creative processes
and show, through clinical experiences, how in some creativity impasses, disharmony
in the bisexual functioning of the mind may be found.
A preliminary clari cation

First, it is necessary to introduce preliminary clari cation by outlining the precise
contours of the ‘psychic bisexuality’ concept. This springs from a re ection concerning
the dialectical relationship between bisexuality and gender identity, a relationship that
was effectively emphasised by David (1992).
One line of thinking which relates to the rooting of psychic life in the ‘biological’
sets the two above-mentioned terms in an inverse relationship, claiming that the more
we af rm the differences between the two sexes the more we virtualise bisexuality.
This line of thinking is represented by Fliess, to whom Freud attributed paternity of
the concept of psychic bisexuality, only to distance himself from it later on. Other
trends of thought (including David’s) stress that differentiating integration of sexuality
may coexist with an authentic bisexual realisation in personal psychic functioning.
©2003 Institute of Psychoanalysis

Copyrighted Material. For use only by Exeter. Reproduction prohibited. Usage subject to PEP terms & conditions
1452 FAUSTA FERRARO
An explicit trace of this trend can be found in Freud’s ‘Psychogenesis of a case of

homosexuality in a woman’ (1920), where he assigns the goal of re-establishing a full
bisexual function to the analyst. As David states:
The dialectic tension between psychic bisexuality and option of gender does not imply
either the abolition or the exacerbation of the difference between the sexes but rather its
relativisation. It does not aim at erasing incompleteness relating differences between sexes
and so it is not within functional opposition to psycho-sexual speci city (1992, p. 26).1
Yet the friction between these two different con gurations of the above-mentioned
relationship is justi ed, as is apparent from the two different meanings that are
attributable to bisexuality and which are present in numerous myths concerning this
argument. Pontalis (1973) claims that bisexuality myths contain two opposing phantasies
and attempt an impossible reconciliation between them: a negative phantasy that tends
to protect itself against castration, which leads to the cancellation of the desiring
subject (neither masculine nor feminine, the neuter gender, as described by Green
(1973), or the angels’ sex described by Argentieri (1988)); and a positive one which,
through appropriation phantasy, makes the subject aware of the acknowledgement of
the difference between the sexes. The latter may be related to the double form of the
Oedipus, thus giving value to the mediation role played by the negative Oedipus, which
is slightly overshadowed in current psychoanalytical thought and which, in fact, should
be acknowledged for its structuring signi cance.
This aspect may be seen in the cases of Little Hans and the Wolf-man, as has
been shown by Chasseguet-Smirgel (1985). Hans’s bisexual disposition functions as a
mediator that prepares him both for the introjection of the paternal penis and for future
identi cation. In contrast, in the Wolf-man, the bisexual disposition, forever in the balance
and incapable of expressing itself through the positive or negative option (the child ghts
with all his/her strength against the negative Oedipus), paralyses the subject. This was
understood by Brunswick (1928) who, acutely, established a relationship between the
vicissitudes of bisexual con ict and intellectual inhibitions.
If, as Green also stresses, there is some dialectical tension between psychic bisexuality
and section, so that ‘psychic bisexuality takes revenge over this section-cession through the
phantasy, the enjoyment given to sex which one does not possess’(1973, p. 261), we may
pinpoint two different outcomes that are to be found in this con icting tension: bisexuality
might be allied with sexual difference, whereas the claim for real bisexuality represents
the refusal of sexual difference and of the acknowledgement of the lack of the other sex.
We may temporarily conclude these introductory notes by accepting Meltzer’s lexical
proposal (1973) who notes bisexual as that which does not nd direct expression within
the sexual activities of adult life. Such activities in an individual after puberty should be
called ambisexual, to leave room for that bisexual possibility of the adult mind which, in
relationship to a partner, expresses itself through reciprocal projective identi cation. It is
used as an instrument of communication in a non-omnipotent manner.
A further contribution comes from Khan, who states that in the analytical literature
there is scant debate on the topic of bisexual love, which is mostly mistaken for latent
1
Apart from the texts in English, the page numbers of the quotations refer to the Italian translations of books and
articles cited.
PSYCHIC BISEXUALITY AND CREATIVITY 1453
homosexual love. ‘What characterizes bisexual love is that it is almost exclusively an ego-
experience, that is, the ego’s way of relating to and cherishing an object of the same gender
identity’ (1974, p. 185). By using Winnicott’s theoretical model of bisexuality, Khan intends
to show the inadequacy of evolutionary schemes that are solely centred on heterosexual
behaviour or ways of behaving, and to stress the role that intense experiences of attraction
and idolising of a person of the same sex might play. These experiences, which reactivate a
bisexual functioning, may enrich heterosexual relationships that have been defective up to
that time. With regard to this, Khan describes an abnormal emotional functioning which is
the effect of the dissociation between the masculine and feminine element in the personality
of a subject. If such a dissociation remains unresolved, the subject might learn to function
quite adequately as far as the localised, sensual genital ful lment with the object of the
other sex is concerned, but without affective involvement.
In the same article, Khan quotes from a paper by Anna Freud, who—in the treatment
of homosexual patients with problems of impotence (who had recovered the physical
capacity for a genital relationship in the course of the analysis)—emphasised the
permanence of a negativistic nucleus rooted in a deep fear of passivity and experienced
both as emotional surrender to the love object and as a threat to the integrity of the ego.
From this brief review of the complex debate on the concept of bisexuality, which has
been selectively drawn on to focus upon the relationship between bisexuality and gender
option, we may deduce that the mind’s bisexual disposition is constant and may be viewed
in two distinct meanings, both essential, which, as I have shown elsewhere (Ferraro,
2001), permit us to insert Winnicott’s perspective into Freud’s. The rst considers
bisexuality as a quality of the self, and both the masculine and feminine as pure elements
which show the twofold original disposition towards the object: being the object, which
implies an imitative identi cation with it, and having the object, which, because the
object is distinct and separate from the subject, promotes the latter’s instinctual activity.
Within this theoretical perspective the stress has shifted away from sexual typi cation and
towards the essential ingredients of basic identity, initially characterised by an omnipotent
fusion with the object, as a preamble to its drive investment. The second meaning retains
a more explicit anchoring to sexual gender and to the parental couple, and it implies
twofold parental identi cation, maternal and paternal.
Psychic bisexuality and creativity

Having clari ed the theoretical framework, I will now address those contributions that
particularly explore the relationship between psychic bisexuality and creativity, according
to—explicitly or implicitly—the two above-mentioned perspectives.
David underlines the fact that a link exists between psychic bisexuality and
creativity that has not yet been fully considered. To this regard he cites Stoller (1968),
who related a boy’s excessive femininity to artistic talent; Meltzer (1973), who
criticises the concepts of sublimation and desexualisation as processes that characterise
creativity, and replaces them with the concept of introjective identi cation with a
parental couple; and, of course, he cites the above-mentioned thought of Winnicott
(1966, 1971), whose assumption of pure masculine and feminine elements is inserted,
not randomly, into the context of a discourse on creativity.
1454 FAUSTA FERRARO
Curiously, David does not cite McDougall (1990, 1993, 1995) who dedicated some
of her speci c contributions to this topic. McDougall writes,
… if, as I have suggested, the hermaphroditic wish to be the other sex while at the same time
keeping one’s sex is an unconscious and universal longing, then we would expect to nd some
sign of its existence in adults that is non-pathological.As we have seen from a psychological
point of view, people are basically and profoundly ‘bisexual’. The double face of identity
construction leads to identi cation with the parent of the same sex while taking the other sex
as its object. The genital sexual relationship cannot alone absorb and satisfy this deep bisexual
longing in mankind. The question might then be raised as to where bisexual wishes nd
sublime or substitute satisfaction … One is clinically evident in creative acts and processes
that permit people to produce things magically, through coalescence and assumption of what
they conceive to be their masculine and feminine wishes, so that they may, alone, engender
their ‘product’. Many work inhibitions and intellectual and artistic blocks are rooted in the
unconscious refusal to accept bisexual wishes and con icts (1990, p. 152).2
In such a perspective, any creative act can be conceptualised as a fusion of masculine

and feminine elements of our psychic structure.
In her research on the factors that are involved in any creative act, McDougall
(1993) particularly underlined four of them. Two of them relate to the external world
and, respectively, concern the struggle with the expressive means and the imaginary
relationship with the public to whom the work is addressed. The other two relate to the
internal world, that is, the use of pre-genital sexuality and the importance of bisexual
desires. Each of these factors may become a source of sterility or fertility.
With regard to the expressive medium, McDougall stresses that there is always a
fantasy of fusion with the medium itself that sometimes evokes a transcendental feeling
of union and, at the same time, the necessity for the creator to look at the medium with
objectivity and assess its strength so as to be able to convey his own vision.
Thus the medium, whether this be paint, marble, words, voice, the body, a musical instrument
or a social or political institution, will always present itself as an ally as well as en enemy. The
medium of creative expression has to be ‘tamed’ so that the creator can impose his or her will
upon it. This imposition ‘must conform to two imperatives: it must translate the creator’s inner
vision but at the same time must carry the conviction that the chosen medium has the power to
transmit the message or vision or new concept in question to the world’ (1993, p. 71).
In fact, we can see the description of a typical oscillation between fusion and separation
here: the feeling of the work as not too distinct from the artist, and the opposite movement
that aims at making a separate and distinct product of it.
As for the second aspect—the relationship with the public—this is mostly about
an internal public, made up of representative objects of the past and, as such, can be
attacking and hostile or, by contrast, welcoming towards its own products.
Among pre-genital drives at work in creation, anal drives hold a particular place:
they, unlike oral and phallic-genital ones, are submitted to rigid control and thus demand
2
The other bisexual realisation is masturbation as explored in different meanings of auto-erotism. ‘The various zones and
functions acquire bisexual signi cance. Zones and functions that follow the container–content model are particularly apt
to become endowed with unconscious bisexual meaning’ (McDougall, 1990, p. 159).
a sublimated solution (see also Heimann, 1962, who writes about schemes of anal work
as active in writing).
As already stated, in the role of bisexuality in the creation process McDougall
underlines the fusion of masculine and feminine elements in the psychical structure of
the creative act, and focuses both on the identi cation dynamics with both parents and the
psychic work that is necessary to work through the appropriation-expropriation phantasy
of magical creative powers that are a prerogative of the parental couple. It runs the risk
of altering the delicate balance of bisexual fantasies within the unconscious and may
trigger inhibition of intellectual, scienti c or artistic activity.
Once the bisexual roots of creativity are clari ed, McDougall wonders about a
likely difference concerning creative activity in men and women. She suggests that
creativity failure in men is centred around impotence and castration, whereas in women
it is centred around sterility.
We may liken McDougall’s contribution to that of Anzieu (1996), who agrees
with McDougall on some aspects of the diversity of observational apexes—the role
of aggressiveness, pre-eminence of the anal component and different creative styles
of the two sexes.
In Anzieu’s opinion, creative work is like a coin whose negative and destructive side
is inseparably linked to its positive, creative one. Anzieu stresses both the healing of one
of the author’s narcissistic wounds, and the representational and drive superabundance
which sets the creative process in motion. Regarding Irma’s famous dream, which Freud
saw as the unveiling of the secret of the dream, Anzieu considers the rst scene (‘a huge
hall, we welcome many guests’) as being the description of a psychic container which is
awaiting thoughts. It is similar to the feminine womb that receives a penis and conceives.
Creative work is supported, stimulated and altered by unconscious representations
which gravitate around two great themes: sexuality, which is connected to the idea of
procreation, and death. Anzieu believes that masculine and feminine narcissism relate
differently to a kind of self-procreation phantasy, which they both share and differentiate,
according to their different anatomical destiny.
The phallus is represented as an erect and exhibited penis, identi ed with the verticality
and the body’s musculature and as a rather careless, quick and generous ‘fecundator’ (it
sows everywhere). A theory about artistic production that bears the mark of the adolescent
mentality, is derived from this and increases the value of ‘writing-off’, of the challenge,
of ostentation and radical freedom, the heroic marginality of the ‘poète maudit’, the rapid
intense and burning discharge into the work of images and emotions and then society gets the
blame for taking back and rejecting (1996, p. 47).3
Feminine narcissism would instead lead women towards demure, allusive work. Their
creativity is hoarded by the biological and procreative enterprise. When they lose their
procreative potentiality what is left of their libido is expressed through works rather than
through having babies.
In contrast to these narcissistic differences, the anal aspect of creation is common
to both men and women and is present in an anguishing phantasy of self-generation
3
This reminds us of Jacques’s (1970) distinction between sculptural and lyrical style, but this author links it to different
evolutionary times.
1456 FAUSTA FERRARO
through the anus and in designating someone that watches. The devaluation of one’s
own productions as anal equivalents represents the rst barrier to creative work. Another
signi cant narcissistic element can be seen in the creative thrust that feeds on the fantasy
of surviving, once dead, through one’s work. Jacques (1970) investigated the evolutionary
incidence of creative impetus and stressed the creativity that is connected to the mid-life
crisis as a rush to beat the funeral deadline; this is also the key used by Anzieu (1996) in
his reading of Freud’s self-analysis and discovery of psychoanalysis.
Although in Anzieu’s rich and complex discourse on creativity there is no explicit
reference to the bisexual component, it does seem that it is actually present in its
many forms (the centrality of the ‘container–contained’ relationship; the revival of
de M’Uzan’s (1967–77) idea about the ‘creative thrill’ as depersonalisation and
momentary loss of one’s boundaries etc.).
Winnicott’s hypothesis on the mixture of masculine and feminine elements in the
dynamics of the creative act turned out to be crowded with heuristic potentialities. One
such development can be traced to a recent contribution by Slochower (1998), who
explored the dialectics between illusion and uncertainty in creative writing. The author
described a typical phase, which might allow one to overcome inhibition to writing and
the numerous forms of anxiety aroused by one’s own creativity. It would be characterised
by a transitory illusion of omnipotence that modulates the inevitable sense of solitude
connected to the risk of producing something personal, and which implies being
momentarily absent both from the relationship with others and from the external world.
She uses the Winnicottian notions of being and doing as core dimensions of the subjective
process concerning creation. In particular, she emphasises the role of the phantasy of
bisexual omnipotence characterised by the simultaneous presence in the writer’s mind
of contrasting ideas. The feeling of grandiose completeness which this produces aims at
contrasting unconscious anxieties regarding action and the consequences of penetration
into the scienti c or artistic world in a state of sexual incompleteness. Thus the use, on the
writer’s part, of a state of the idealised self that is centred on the being might be functional
to the creative process. ‘In this version the writer uses containment as a temporary
protection against threats to self-integrity … this insulation does not necessarily describe
a constricted, restrained, or passive state’ (p. 341).
Although there are some interesting points in Slochower’s contribution, references to
Winnicott’s conception of creativity sometimes shows a certain ambiguity. In contrast, the
discourse proposed by Milner (1952–60) on the vicissitudes of creativity, which, while
being deeply personal, also stands in dialogic interlocution with Winnicott’s thought, is
extremely interesting. It is well known that Milner was interested in the creative process
in its many forms. This interest fed on the constant shuttling between self-observation
of her own creative endeavours, entreaties that came from the artistic world and the
struggle of minds that were inhabited by ‘insanity’ in order to give expression to their own
creative selves. As stated by Giannakoulas (2000), a central work in the development of
her thought was ‘The sense in nonsense’, which represents an original reading of Blake’s
poetic text on Job’s misadventures, reinterpreted as a painful discovery that ‘all growth
and creation are the result of the interplay and integration of opposites’ (Milner, 1956, p.
178). Milner’s interest in this text was revived by the desire to understand the block of
one of her young patients, a talented violinist, in whom an inhibition to play appeared. In
the rst illustration in Blake’s book, which introduces the characters, violins hang from
trees, unused, whereas, in the last illustration, each and every one is intent on playing
an instrument. Milner writes:
Freudians tend to look on the basic energies of man as two-fold and argue about what names
to give them. Blake also seems to be showing them as two-fold and here calls them Behemoth
and Leviathan. The fact that Leviathan (although called ‘he’ in the texts) is represented in
such a passive position, lying on his back, half drowning, with an expression of what might
be either an agony or ecstasy of submission, suggests an idea of femaleness; while Behemoth
is shown as full of a heavy bull-like power (pp. 179–80).
The dialectic between masculine and feminine is described as a dialectic between the
mental activity of the surface, or conscious, and deep mental activity, or unconscious. The
central point in Job’s rehabilitation is the awakening of creative subjectivity to itself.
Blake also seems to be saying that this awakening comes through the acceptance of, equally with
the male, what he seems to look upon as the female phase of mental functioning. Further, that
the full experience of this female phase means a willingness to accept a temporary submergence
below the surface consciousness. Blake also implies, I think, that this state that he calls female is
not concerned primarily with the boundaries that mark off the self from the rest of the world …
Thus it seems that having once achieved the sense of separate existence, it is then necessary to be
continually undoing it again, in cyclic oscillation, if psychic sterility is to be avoided (p. 204).
Referring to Blake, with regard to the block of creative processes, Milner then underlines
the importance of the denial of destructiveness and the refusal of the mental state that is
de ned as feminine. Furthermore, she stresses that the speci c modality of functioning that
is essential to creation is based on oscillation between these two types of thought. The rst
of which distinguishes between subject and object, me and not me, observer and observed,
and then the type of thought which does not make this separation.
The medium, in its malleability, is not clearly distinct from self, shares the pre-logic
fusion that Fenichel (1946) talks about as a crucial step for adapting to reality. At the
same time, in the face of this periodic loss of boundaries, the medium is the frame that
circumscribes a void and becomes the guarantee for the keeping of an aspect of distinction
and differentiation between the internal and the external.
The boundary is also the problem of bodily limits, and of the importance given to a primary
sensorial experience. In keeping with this, it is how the goal of an analysis is de ned:
The end of the psychoanalytic situation comes when the analysand has established the
capacity of continual psychic growth through the fertilizing contact of the ego function of
attention with the meeting of the unconscious, that is the gap. But I think that it is not only the
repressed that is discovered, but also some sort of direct active feeling contact with a primary
body awareness (Milner, 1960, p. 235).
Vicissitudes of the creative process in a clinical case

I would now like to try and illustrate the vicissitudes of the creative process, emphasising
the aspects concerning block and paralysis, as they represented the main reasons for
psychic suffering in the situation that I am about to describe.
1458 FAUSTA FERRARO
It concerns Walter, a university professor. Some years after his rst analytical treatment
(which, he acknowledged with gratitude, had made his life much more ‘liveable’) he had
fallen prey to strong doubts over his profession because of a painful creative incapacity.
The reading grid that I would like to use in order to explore the dif culties of the creative
process pertains to my assumption of a severe upsetting of psychic bisexuality because,
from the outset, there appeared to be both a prevalence of a feminine attitude of thinking
together with a feebleness and insuf ciency of masculine aspects.
In his relationship with his children, Walter seems to have shown great sensitivity,
which led him to try to nd opportunities for deep contact through the invention of forms
of entertainment characterised by rich imaginative potential. Such research would become
livelier, especially when his second-born daughter was present. Clear identi cation with
her appeared which was rooted in two essential aspects: the sharing of the condition of a
second-born, described as ‘ nding space that was already occupied and having to get it
by oneself’; and having felt he had been treated like a little girl by his father, a little girl
who was seductive and funny in her eccentric geniality, but still a son ‘manqué’. Despite
uncommon gifts for emotional availability and for giving attention to his children, he
told me that when they were born there had been a typical reaction of taking ight. At
the time of both births, Walter had gone away for a few months and, when he returned,
had suggested that only one parent at a time was needed to look after the children.
Now he seemed willing to admit serious dif culty ‘in triangulating’, which was attributed
to the intricate relationship with his father who was described as devaluing him and being
incapable of giving him any recognition. It had become the favourite piece in the analytical
work which, although a privileged explicative pattern, a sort of ‘personal myth’ according to
Kris (1975), had turned out to be unenlightening for his speci c creative troubles. The eeing
from fatherhood seemed to be resolved, but the writing inhibition still remained.
Here is one of the dreams that accompanied an unusually productive impetus after a
long period of blockage. It was narrated during the Friday session, the third and last of his
weekly sessions. On the oneiric scene, a woman who was walking along appeared and
was pushing the air ahead of her, this conveyed a sense of fullness and self-consistency.
‘She looked like a ship ploughing through the waves’, was Walter’s associative remark.
After that, he started to describe something that he had experienced as being very unusual.
The day prior to the dream, he had ended his teaching course ‘in a very inspired way’;
he had felt very communicative and able to convey a sense of pathos with regard to the
subjects he had treated. Only later on had he realised how autobiographical was the
description of two historiographical trends he had given the students. One was based on the
comparison between some minor European countries and a hegemonic model that caused
a devalued representation to emerge; the other was centred on the singularity, original and
unrepeatable, of every country or nation. Without truly realising it, a research and writing
topic that was closely linked to his biographical vicissitudes started to take shape.
In the oneiric image, we recognised a harmonic combination of masculine and
feminine elements, the prow ploughing through the waves, which, in particular, paved the
way to a re ection over the rending and ploughing as psychic acts that were endowed with
a remarkably penetrative strength. It was to this that Walter felt particularly exposed.
After some time he came to a session in a particular mood, different from usual. He
started by saying that he wanted to congratulate me on himself. He had had a dif cult
week and given a lecture by heart without any notes. There had been a talk with the
faculty dean during which he thought he had said some particularly trenchant things,
with determined rather than aggressive assertiveness. Then he alluded to a dream that
he had had that night. There were fragments, like scales, which he associated to pieces
of chocolate that he was given by his wife on their anniversary, and these slivers had
taken on the shape of an insect, some sort of big hornet or wasp which after a while
broke into two. He was scared and anxiously wondered where the sting was, in the front
part or in the rear.
After remaining silent, he said, ‘If I complete this treatment I’ll go and see my rst
analyst; I mean, the rst one is over and it might then correspond to the rear part that is
now falling.’ I said to him (perhaps in uenced by my position in relation to the patient),
‘What comes behind usually indicates what comes after’. Walter replied, ‘I had the front
part before me in the dream, that is to say the present while the rear part is what one
leaves behind’.
I drew his attention to the union of the fragments and said, ‘We could look at them
as the coagulation of isolated experiences in a cohesive self that acquires the capacity
to use the sting. The vital aggressiveness which seems to scare you a lot, thus bringing
about a movement of breaking and fragmentation, mostly tending to get rid of this part
of yourself, the penetrating, that is what is perceived as dangerous’.
Walter said, ‘It is the fear of one’s own strength. I’d like to be both strong and
gentle; I have been far too aggressive in my life, thus causing a lot of trouble.’ I told
him that, although we were both using the same word (aggressive), we were presumably
referring to two different things. The one we were talking about is aimed and incisive,
as he himself seems to have noticed, and Walter said he had been re ecting on the way
he succeeded in obtaining something from the dean. The dream also made us re ect a
great deal on the sort of antagonism between the rear part and the front one. This led
us to assume interference of anal aspects compared to genital ones, the prevalently
anal quality of aggressiveness could be found in movements of the expulsive type
that characterised Walter’s creative impulses. These inevitably tended to extinguish
themselves in a falling movement, similar to the one in the dream. Furthermore, clear
integrative dif culties were evident through the reasoning about the two analyses, and
were represented by the danger implicit in genitality—the pulsional unbearable sense,
both libidinal and aggressive, which seemed to promote an equally anxiety-arousing
loss and amputation of oneself.
The relevance of the anal aspects in the creative process rst surfaced in this dream
and represented a recurring aspect which warned us about its transformations, brought
out most clearly in what we called ‘the bronze bell’ dream.
Before this dream, which was a turning point, and during his fruitless attempts to
write an essay of his own, some representations had surfaced which we used in order
to explore what had interfered with his project. For instance, one scene showed the
disturbing presence of a shining little pig that would break into his room and would keep
him from concentrating, an image which was associated to his brother and to the feeling
of repugnance-attraction to his smooth, round cheeks.
Subsequently, the room chosen for writing turned out to be uncomfortable because of
deep, black ‘little drains’ that had suddenly appeared inside his house, long and narrow
1460 FAUSTA FERRARO
sewers, ‘full of worms but which, at the same time, acted as humidity collectors’.
Even clearer anal gurations had again reappeared, regarding one of Walter’s bodily
representations, with the anus stuffed with rice and then sewn up, the rice being a special
kind of rice he had been presented with, at his own request, and which had come from
an exotic country as a symbol of fertility.
The work on the dream had delineated an area of ambiguity that concerned his need
to retain the real creative products. On the one hand, it was a bank against his anguish
at emptying himself and dissolving; but, on the other, it was perceived as a retentive
necessity that blocked the ow of his own creativity. Having resumed his writing, the
dif culty then seemed to be centred on the conclusions. It was at that particular moment
that the ‘bronze bell’ dream occurred.
Walter was attempting to connect a long pipe to a tap, prey to concern about the solidity
of the connection that had just been made. He was afraid the pipe would come off the tap
and wilt. While he was busy with this delicate operation, he could see some strange hanging
gures in front of him, presumably some bells leaning against an iron framework.
In the associations on the dream, the iron framework was linked to the analyst’s surname
and therefore to the rst emerging theme of a possible termination of the analysis.
The two tasks now at hand, one nearer to consciousness ( nishing the article) and the
other more towards the margins (thinking about a possible termination of the analysis),
blended into the manifest contents of the dream, which underlined parting as the dif culty
in retaining consistency, as the loss of contact with an inexhaustibly creative source. This
remark of mine made him wonder: ‘Where does the creative drive spring from, from
outside or inside?’ He then hinted at his evident lingering in completing his essay, parting
from it and trusting it to the external world.
This dream represented a sort of magnet for past images that allowed us to explore
the interlacing between the analytical process and evolution of the creative process.
The patient dwelled on how the bell-shape reminded him of an image that dated back
to the early years of analysis. The hollow of his hand, with which he liked to cover the
entire face of his companion, was an emblem of fusion that somehow now appeared to
be smashed. Again, some kind of a gain regarding his greater tolerance for separateness
seemed to correspond to his loss. Then, apparently dropping the subject, he started saying
how, while struggling to nish his article, a sailing analogy had come to mind: ‘When
sailing too near the coast one cannot appreciate the scenery and it is only when reaching
a distance that the coast appears with all its bays and rths etc.’ One could perceive a
slow, somewhat occult change in respect to one’s own productive capacity that was more
able to contemplate the swaying between fusion and separation. But this was not the only
theme in the session, as shown by a meaningful association on the dream. Walter revealed
that he was thinking of writing and publishing a book, which, unexpectedly, through the
associative link—bells—was compared to the legendary enterprise of Andrei Rublov,
the artist-sculptor who had starred in the lm of the same title by Tarkovsky. The lm’s
climax was recalled with intense emotional involvement: the scene when a giant bell that
had been forged— nanced by the contributions of the local people—is uncovered.
The patient’s insistence on the astonishing beauty of the bell that was made from the
fusion of numerous objects, the molten metal, made me think of the role that Milner (1952)
attributes to the relationship between aesthetic experience and cancellation of a boundary.
The fused lead, with its blinding colour, revealed the anal origin of the creation,
but there had been a meaningful shift. While, up to that moment, Walter’s writing and
studying plans had been continually experienced as despicable and dirty anal products,
an intense aesthetic quality that spread out from the colour black seemed to prevail in
this dream. Like Anzieu, we could see the colour black here as ‘the matrix of destruction
and creativity’ (1996, p. 77). We agreed upon considering such a sequence as important
and, at the same time, we thought about images such as the hollow, the casting and the
bell. They seemed to attest to the strength of his feminine leanings, but anxieties still
emerged that related to the male and penetrative aspects (the tube that may wilt). This
impaired the fantasy of bisexual completeness.
There was then a moment that Walter sensed as meaningful: the presentation of one of
his papers at an international congress, accompanied as usual by rending and potentially
inhibiting tensions. He found he was able to give his lecture con dently, almost without
reading it. This was accompanied by a lapidary oneiric fragment which consisted of the
breaking of a glass, the meaning of which was immediately absorbed and put into words
by the patient himself, ‘I felt a sense of triumph and I said to myself—I’ve done it!’ A
brief movement of exultation and orgiastic pleasure was soon followed by doubts, self-
devaluation and catastrophic falls, which we may de ne using Milner’s words:
Thus it seems that in analysis of the artist (whether potential or manifest) in any patient, the
crucial battle is over the ‘language’ of love, that is to say, ultimately, over the way in which
the orgasm, or the orgiastic experiences, are to be symbolised (1957, p. 219).
Walter added that he had been able to deliver his lecture thanks to the silent support of
an old historian who he had met at the congress. This allowed us to assume the fragility
of his male identi cations, blocked by the hatred towards his ever-disavowing father.
An analogous disownment marked the relationship with his paper creatures, while there
was silent, gradual reconciliation with the son.
Walter began one session by quoting a passage by Thomas Mann in which Jacob
laments to God because he thinks that his son Joseph has been killed by the lion and
hurls abuse at him, ‘I’ve gone far but you are still barbarous’ (alluding to the logic
of murdering one’s own son). Then, as usual, he hinted at his plan for an anthology
of foreign historians, soon forgotten because of his lack of linguistic mastery. An
association to a legendary meeting then erupted, that between Ingrid Bergman and
Roberto Rossellini. Walter had always been struck by the woman’s temerity; she had
written to Rossellini asking to shoot a lm with him, although she could only say two
words in Italian—‘Ti amo’. There then followed a reference to a lm which exerted
a very powerful in uence over him. In the lm A mid-winter’s tale, the plot revolved
around the dream of basing the part of Hamlet on an obscure and unsuccessful artist
who, after several vicissitudes, performs an inspired piece of acting, which betrays an
old desire that is nally ful lled. The intense emotional participation brought about
by the lm clari es the massive identi cation with the main character, so forceful as
to move him to tears every time.
I commented upon this analytical sequence, underlining the interlacing of two
threads of thought. The one marked by a destructive relationship between both adult
and infantile parts—the ‘barbaric’ part which well condenses the holy power of this
1462 FAUSTA FERRARO
aspect of the primitive mind—while the other, instead, is marked by the passionate
relationship that is apt to force feelings of incapacity. By going back to his ‘Ingrid
Bergman’ association, I tried to show him how, once again, the libidinal and propulsive
aspects were incarnated by the feminine part of himself, while the masculine ones
appeared more hesitant and had to be conquered. I then remarked, somehow wrong-
footing him, that he was waiting for someone who, as in the Bergman–Rossellini affair,
would fall in love with his project. The patient’s enigmatic comment was the phrase
from Joseph and his brothers: ‘The well of the past is unfathomable’.
In the penultimate session, the issue of creativity imposed itself as the main theme
once more. Walter told of having been caught by an irresistible impulse to go to the
cinema. He knew that the lm 2001: A space odyssey had been restored, but why
that particular night and why with his daughter? ‘When I saw the bone which turns
into a bludgeon twirling in the air, I had a striking intuition: that was the image I had
obscurely and restlessly been looking for during the last few days, a sort of unconscious
motive forcing its way to light.’ The association was with Michelangelo’s violent
gesture of throwing away his hammer-chisel, dissatis ed with what he had shaped. But
what he had extracted from the scene was the idea that this was the symbol of human
intelligence and of its capacity to transform an original element in a creative way: a
sort of hymn to the incessant, and typically human, a work of symbolisation.
Michelangelo’s hammer-chisel pre gured a representation that emerged in the
penultimate dream of analysis that staged Walter’s dramatic attempt to re-emerge
from the sea chasms. Walter associated his desperate struggle not to drown with the
narrative of a shipwreck that was avoided only thanks to the clever idea of the skipper,
who had thrown a hammer overboard which permitted rescue. This was the kind of
associative work we used in order to re ect on the hammer-chisel as a symbol of
necessity that was introduced by the masculine element in order to break the potentially
deathlike fusion.
In the last part of this analysis it is possible to nd what Milner (1960) described
as ‘mind–body association’, which particularly emphasises the bodily condition
that accompanies the creative boost. Walter stated that, despite not having a verbal
correspondent that was suf ciently adequate to express his sensorial experience, there
was something which united the two analyses ends: ‘a peculiar dancing movement’. It
seemed that he had been able to grasp a secret harmony between what he had been told
by the rst analyst and what I had told him. All this in the light of a curious nal thought
that had erupted while I was seeing him to the door at the end of the last but one session.
He had imagined that he could see two men in front of him, the former Prime Minister
and the analyst’s husband. The complex work of association and working through that
resulted allowed us to assume that what was important in the rst character was his
surname (Amato—i.e. loved) to be used as a verb for the second character, with whom
Walter identi ed himself. The whole matter could be summed up by the idea of being
able to sympathise with some of his most peculiar traits by loving them.
Before leaving, Walter gave me a book whose cover struck me more than its title Common
love, by Todorov). It depicted a young man sitting on a desk in a casual manner with his legs
dangling over the edge, showing a relaxed attitude towards a couple, a man and a woman
who were presumably his two analysts—an icon of the reconstituted internal couple.
‘When one has no thick skin, every desire hurts’

I would now like to present a brief section of the second analysis (four sessions a week),
of Arianna, a 32-year-old woman. Among her reasons for asking for an analysis was the
striking situation of ‘paralysis’ in which she had found herself for a number of years. She
only needed to take three exams to graduate, and her thesis was almost completed. It was
a very complex analysis from which I will extract a brief part in order to show the lack
of a feminine element, which blocked the patient’s creativity even though she was highly
intellectual. This extract was taken from the end of the second year of analysis, which
was characterised by swings between states of ‘paralysis’ and attempts to free herself.
It was a signi cant illustration of unconscious dynamics at work. Arianna gradually
began to take her remaining exams and ne-tune her thesis, which meant resuming her
relationship with her tutor, an important reference gure.
As in the case of Walter, we can focus on the interference of the anal aspects in
creativity, but here it seems that they were in line with what Green (1973) described as
primary anality,4 in other words in line with a basic functioning rather than a speci c
phase drive vicissitude.
I was struck by a recurring dynamic concerning her exams. There was always a small
part of her study programme that she had left out and, as a sort of impulse which she
could confess to, she would end up attracting her tutor’s attention to this. He would then
be forced to lower the good mark that she had earned up until then.
During a session at the end of the month, when she brought me my fee except for a
small part of it, through the use of a dream I had the opportunity to suggest an exploration
of this acting in, which was linked to the dynamic described above.
She referred to a vague recollection of a dream she had had the night before: a
delicatessen owner by the name of Mario appeared, someone who placed great importance
on money. There was also an exam situation and a question asked about Coriolano (such
question concerned the part of the programme which she had not studied).
Associations: Mariolano and Coriolano: ‘Coriolano fought against his own country’.
Then she spoke about her relationship with money: ‘I don’t care so much about money. I
can’t manage to experience it as something I have produced as a result of my own work; it
is the same feeling that I have for the number of exams that I have passed. The last exam
was taken after a long period of time, the rst of the remaining three. I can’t even manage
to add it to the others that I had done.’ She then began to speak about her son who she
couldn’t decide to leave alone as regards toilet training: ‘There was a kind of struggle; he
runs and runs and runs as if he wants to hold it in, then at the last moment he goes’.
I offered a comment based upon the associative chain coriol-ano, mariol-ano,
suggesting an expulsive functioning that contains an opposition that cannot be coerced.
Arianna, for her part, reiterated that she identi ed much more with that small part (the
not-done) than with all the rest that seemed not to be hers but was in her family’s heart.
4
‘They are such, in the description of what I have called primary anality—a structure leaning towards clinging and
hugging rather than to holding in. Forms through which one can build the culture of masochistic defeat. The narcissistic
aim is the invulnerability that is conferred upon secret upheaval of the rules of a game: who wins loses … as if losing
is the risk of each win, changing any win into defeat—something that can always happen—is the only way each time
of ensuring the result through systematic elimination of every dependence on the object. Keeping control, so that, by
de nition, the other rival is deprived of any possible victory’ (Green, 1973, p. 156–7).
1464 FAUSTA FERRARO
I proposed the idea that the small part is the trustee of her real self, that which is taken
away from the courtesy and from that which she thinks they want from her. I add that it
seems to be rather dramatic that she can only express this through a non-doing that ends
up by costing her dear.
Such a functioning seems clearly stamped with a negative approach logic but deeper
down it could be seen as an expression of de cit containment. It was this same patient, with
her extraordinary introspective ability, who put her basic problem into words, as, bit by bit,
her restarting her university course turned her idea of graduating into a real achievement.
‘When you don’t have a thick skin, every desire hurts.’ This cutting and incisive expression
shows the basic condition needed to make her drive bearable instead of traumatic.
Associating her degree to her nal high school exams, Arianna told me how, after
getting very good marks in her nal exams, she lay in the sun too long and got third-
degree burns all over her body. Her approach towards a strong desire to be productive
always turned out to be full of dif culties as shown by the sequence that I am about to
illustrate concerning the passing of her penultimate exam.
She arrives at the session and tells me all about the exam; she needs to convince herself
that she really did do it because it is as if it wasn’t part of her. She then hints at a dream that
left her slightly agitated. ‘A cousin of mine who is the only graduate in the family died and
left two children of more or less the same age. I began to cry because of the anguish, and I
don’t know how but my cousin came back to life.’ Associations: An 18-month-old epileptic
son of a friend of hers fainted; ‘I have now been studying for quite some time’; she then
speaks about Creso (last King of Midia, 560 BC), whose son died after a battle.
I underline both her identi cation with her cousin, who, by the way, shares her
name, and her constant connection between victory and death, success and reprisal.
Arianna interrupts me, saying that we could even say ‘catastrophe’. She continues,
‘The two children could be the two exams that I took. I was afraid of the excitement
that was ooding through me the following day … just think, if I think about my last
exam, Roman History. This exam is like the Berlin Wall. I could experience the exam
as being very nice but instead I do everything not to take it; it is a soft exam, protective
just like an airbag’. I ask, ‘Is the fatal accident the conclusion? There is always some
destructive potential that is connected to your productive self-perception, a serious
danger either for the adult parts or for the infantile ones. In the scene from the dream,
there is a transitory death that, in the light of the thoughts about epilepsy, can be read
as a brusque interruption of psychic continuity. There is presumably some dif culty in
maintaining links with your own creatures—exam children’.
Arianna says, ‘If I think about after graduation like after analysis; nothing … I need a
wall … this wall can also be seen as my extra kilos of fat, whale fat that protects me from
both my husband and my professor. They like slim girls; I could be more desirable. For
my mother the opposite was true. She was always hard and impenetrable; she liked slim
girls, but masculine and self-suf cient ones. My mother always behaved like a man; she
cut my hair; I was never allowed to dress in the latest fashion … and if she let me have a
mini-skirt she bought me those with metal studs in, repulsive ones so as to communicate the
message “Keep away”. Then, regarding my periods, she always made me feel embarrassed
and that they were to be hidden. I always asked her [looking at me, the analyst], “When I
was in primary school did I only draw female faces?” An obsession …’
I comment that she obviously attempted to keep a nucleus of feminine identity,

which she had to withdraw from the rest of her body. ‘My father never appreciated
my femininity. My professor, on the other hand, always viewed me as a whole person,
something that my parents never did’.
In the following session she exclaimed, ‘I am happy that you two exist—analyst and
university professor—when I was small and wanted to have blue eyes, I stared at the sky but
it was not so much for the eyes but to feel part of creation as I always felt left out. Sometimes
now I feel that both my professor and I belong to the same world, anyway, he seems to be
a sort of liquid that gets into all corners even if one is closed inside a wardrobe’.
I would suggest this brief linking comment to the proposed hypothesis. Regarding
the last sequence about the blue eyes, which the analyst really does have and which on
several occasions had the function of highlighting the transference: in a strongly moving
manner, this material indicated the wish to identify with the mother as a prototype of her
sense of existence and her really belonging to the world. Like Winnicott, we could say
that here there is a noticeable lack of experience in being, the feminine element. And
there seemed to be grafted on to this both a male–female confusion that was linked to a
phallic image of the mother as being hard and metallic and averse to anything feminine,
and further painful shortages, a stabbing ‘hunger for a father’. The material lets us make
a sort of link between this alteration of bisexuality, and the active anguish about her own
productivity that occurred, above all, at conclusive moments.
From this point of view, the associative chain is particularly signi cant: her last exam,
the Berlin Wall, her fat self. The central picture of the wall effectively expresses the role
of defensive bulwark against an imminent sea of her own desires. This condensed both
the effects of bodily inhibitions and the block on intellectual processes.
As in the previous case, and behind the cautious movement towards recovery,
one may catch a glimpse of the possibility of getting hooked on to a parental couple
(analyst and professor).
Translations of summary
Psychische Bisexualität und Kreativität. Dieser Beitrag ergänzt eine frühere Publikation (Ferraro 2001),
in der die Autorin die Rolle der Bisexualität in der Psychopathologie untersucht hat. Die vorliegende Arbeit
konzentriert sich auf die Beziehung zwischen psychischer Bisexualität und Kreativität. Im Anschluss an
eine kurze, klärende Darstellung der Beziehung zwischen psychischer Bisexualität und Geschlechtsoptionen
werden zwei Bedeutungen des Konzepts der Bisexualität aufgegriffen, denen die Autorin eine besonders
große Bedeutung beimisst — zum einen die psychische Bisexualität als Charakteristikum des Selbst
und als Mischung von maskulinen und femininen Elementen, zum anderen die psychische Bisexualität,
die einen Ausdruck der Identi zierung mit beiden Elternteilen, Mutter und Vater, darstellt. Der Beitrag
erläutert auf dieser Grundlage die Überlegungen verschiedener Autoren, die den Zusammenhang zwischen
psychischer Bisexualität und Kreativität untersucht haben. Die Hypothese der Autorin lautet, dass bei
manchen Kreativitätshemmungen eine Veränderung zur psychischen Bisexualität beobachtet werden kann.
Diese These wird anhand von zwei klinischen Fällen illustriert, die die Dynamik, die sich hemmend auf die
Kreativität auswirkt, und ihre allmähliche Überwindung in den Mittelpunkt rücken.
Bisexualidad psíquica y creatividad. Este trabajo constituye el complemento a una publicación anterior
(Ferrero, 2001) que había examinado el papel de la bisexualidad en la psicopatología. Este segundo artículo
se centra sobre las relaciones entre la bisexualidad psíquica y la creatividad. Tras una breve aclaración
acerca de la relación entre la bisexualidad psíquica y la elección de identidad sexual, el autor subraya dos
1466 FAUSTA FERRARO
acepciones del concepto de bisexualidad que considera preminentes. La primera sería la bisexualidad psíquica
como una cualidad del self relacionada con lo masculino y lo femenino en tanto que elementos puros; la
segunda sería la bisexualidad psíquica como una expresión de la identi cación tanto con la madre como con
el padre. El autor expone además las ideas de varios autores que han estudiado el vículo entre bisexualidad
psíquica y creatividad, a partir de los mismos fundamentos y plantea la hipótesis de que en algunos bloqueos
de la creatividad se puede detectar una alteración de la bisexualidad psíquica. Esta hipótesis es ilustrada a
través de dos casos clínicos que permiten precisar los con ictos que obstaculizan la capacidad creativa y
su gradual superación. Mientras en el primer caso, más detallado, se muestra una situación de insu ciencia
de aspectos masculinos, en el segundo, utilizando un breve material analítico, se destaca una insu ciencia
predominante de elementos femeninos.
Bisexualité psychique et créativité. La présente contribution s’inscrit dans la suite d’une publication
antérieure (Ferraro, 2001) qui avait examiné le rôle de la bisexualité dans la psychopathologie, alors que
cette deuxième étude se focalise sur les rapports entre bisexualité psychique et créativité. Après quelques
éclaircissements concernant la relation entre la bisexualité psychique et le choix d’identité sexuée, l’auteur
relève deux signi cations de la notion de bisexualité, toutes deux de la plus haute importance pour lui. Dans
la première, la bisexualité psychique apparaît comme une caractéristique du self en référence au masculin
et au féminin en tant qu’éléments purs ; dans la seconde, la bisexualité psychique apparaît comme une
expression des identi cations parentales, mère et père. L’auteur expose des ré exions de nombreux auteurs
qui ont exploré le lien entre bisexualité et créativité, à partir de ces bases. Il fait ensuite l’hypothèse que
l’on peut dépister dans certains blocages de la créativité une altération de la bisexualité psychique. Cette
hypothèse est illustrée à travers deux cas cliniques qui permettent de préciser les con its qui entravent
les capacités créatives du sujet et leur dépassement progressif. Dans le premier cas, exposé de façon plus
détaillée, un défaut d’éléments masculins est mis en évidence, alors que dans le second, dont est rapporté
une brève tranche d’analyse, est présenté un défaut d’éléments féminins.
Bisessualità psichica e creatività. Questo contributo costituisce il completamento di un precedente

lavoro (Ferraro 2001) che esplora il ruolo della bisessualità nella psicopatologia, mentre invece questo
è incentrato sul rapporto tra bisessualità psichica e creatività. Dopo un breve chiarimento sul rapporto
tra bisessualità psichica e opzione di genere, vengono assunte due accezioni del concetto di bisessualità,
entrambe considerate irrinunciabili dall’autrice: la bisessualità psichica come qualità del sè che fa riferimento
all’elemento femminile e maschile quali elementi puri, e la bisessualità psichica come espressione delle
identi cazioni genitoriali, materna e paterna. Su tale sfondo teorico è presentato il pensiero di alcuni autori
che hanno esplorato in particolare il legame tra bisessualità psichica e creatività, e si avanza l’ipotesi che in
alcuni blocchi della creatività possa reperirsi un’alterazione della bisessualità psichica. Tale ipotesi è illustrata
attraverso due esperienze cliniche che consentono di focalizzare le dinamiche che ostacolano la capacità
creativa e il loro graduale superamento. Nel primo caso, che è più dettagliato, si ipotizza un’insuf cienza
degli aspetti maschili, mentre invece nel secondo, di cui è riportata una breve tranche analitica, si ipotizza
una predominante insuf cienza degli elementi femminili.
References
Anzieu D (1996). Créer dètruire. Paris: Dunod. [Trad. It. Creare e distruggere. Roma: Borla, 1999.]
Argentieri S (1988). Il sesso degli angeli. In Del genere sessuale, ed. Russo L, Vigneti M, Roma:
Borla.
Brunswick RM (1948). Supplemento alla storia di una nevrosi infantile di Freud. In Letture di
Psicoanalisi, Boringhieri, 1972.
Chasseguet-Smirgel J (1985). A Little Hans re-reading. In Creativity and perversion, London:
Free Association Books.
David C (1992). La bisexualité psychique. Paris: Éditions Payot. [Trad. It. La bisessualità psichica.
Roma: Borla, 1996.]
de M’Uzan M (1977). De l’art à la mort. Paris: Gallimard.
Ferraro F (2001). Vicissitudes of bisexuality: Crucial points and clinical implications. Int J
Psychoanal 82:485–500.
Fenichel O (1946). The psycho-analytic theory of neurosis. London: Kegan Paul.
Freud S (1920). Psychogenesis of a case of homosexuality in a woman. S.E. 18.

Giannakulas A (2000). Marion Milner tra le pagine e I ricordi: Conversazione con A. Giannakulas
a cura di C. Lucantoni. Richard e Piggle 3:249–57.
Green A (1973). Narcisissisme de vie, narcissisme de mort. Paris: Éditions de Minuit. [Narcisismo
di vita narcisismo di morte, Roma: Borla, 1985].
Jacques E (1970). Death and mid-age crisis. In Work, creativity and social justice, London:
Heinemann Educational Books.
Heimann P (1962). Notes on the anal stage. In About children and children no-longer. London:
New Psychoanalytical Library.
Khan M (1974). Ego-orgasm in bisexual love. In Alienation in perversion, London: Karnac, 1989.
Kris E (1975). Selected papers. New Haven, London: Yale Univ. Press
McDougall J (1990). Plea for a measure of abnormality. London: Free Association Books.
McDougall J (1993). Sexual identity, trauma and creativity. International Forum of Psycho-
Analysis. Oslo, Stockholm: Scandinavian Univ. Press.
McDougall J (1995). The many faces of Eros. London: Free Association Books.
Meltzer D (1973). Sexual states of mind. Perthshire: Clunie Press.
Milner M (1952). The role of illusion in symbol formation. In The suppressed madness of sane
men, London: Routledge, 1988.
Milner M (1956). The sense in nonsense (Freud and Blake’s Job). In The suppressed madness of
sane men, London: Routledge, 1988.
Milner M (1957). The ordering of chaos. In The suppressed madness of sane men, London:
Routledge, 1988.
Milner M (1960). The concentration of the body. In The suppressed madness of sane men,
London: Routledge, 1988.
Pontalis JB (1973). L’Insaississable entre-deux. Nouvelle Revue de Psychanalyse 7:102–16.
Slochower J (1998). Illusion and uncertainty in psychoanalytic writing. Int J Psychoanal
79:333–48.
Stoller RJ (1968). Sex and gender. New York: Science House.
Winnicott D (1966). The split-off male and female elements to be found in men and women. In
Psychoanalytic explorations, Cambridge, MA: Harvard Univ. Press, 1989.
Winnicott D (1971). Creativity and its origins. In Playing and reality, London: Tavistock.
PEP-Web Copyright
Copyright. The PEP-Web Archive is protected by United States copyright laws and international treaty provisions.
1. All copyright (electronic and other) of the text, images, and photographs of the publications appearing on PEP-Web is retained by
the original publishers of the Journals, Books, and Videos. Saving the exceptions noted below, no portion of any of the text, images,
photographs, or videos may be reproduced or stored in any form without prior permission of the Copyright owners.
2. Authorized Uses. Authorized Users may make all use of the Licensed Materials as is consistent with the Fair Use Provisions of
United States and international law. Nothing in this Agreement is intended to limit in any way whatsoever any Authorized Userâ€™s
rights under the Fair Use provisions of United States or international law to use the Licensed Materials.
3. During the term of any subscription the Licensed Materials may be used for purposes of research, education or other
non-commercial use as follows:
a. Digitally Copy. Authorized Users may download and digitally copy a reasonable portion of the Licensed Materials for their own use
only.
b. Print Copy. Authorized Users may print (one copy per user) reasonable potions of the Licensed Materials for their own use only.
Copyright Warranty. Licensor warrants that it has the right to license the rights granted under this Agreement to use Licensed
Materials, that it has obtained any and all necessary permissions from third parties to license the Licensed Materials, and that use of
the Licensed Materials by Authorized Users in accordance with the terms of this Agreement shall not infringe the copyright of any third
party. The Licensor shall indemnify and hold Licensee and Authorized Users harmless for any losses, claims, damages, awards,
penalties, or injuries incurred, including reasonable attorney's fees, which arise from any claim by any third party of an alleged
infringement of copyright or any other property right arising out of the use of the Licensed Materials by the Licensee or any Authorized
User in accordance with the terms of this Agreement. This indemnity shall survive the termination of this agreement. NO LIMITATION
OF LIABILITY SET FORTH ELSEWHERE IN THIS AGREEMENT IS APPLICABLE TO THIS INDEMNIFICATION.
Commercial reproduction. No purchaser or user shall use any portion of the contents of PEP-Web in any form of commercial
exploitation, including, but not limited to, commercial print or broadcast media, and no purchaser or user shall reproduce it as its own
any material contained herein.

Psychic Bisexuality and Creativity: Int J Psychoanal

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Psychic Bisexuality and Creativity: Int J Psychoanal

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Copyrighted Material. For use only by Exeter. Reproduction prohibited.

Usage subject to PEP terms & conditions

Int J Psychoanal 2003; 84:1451–1467