Jacques Lacan - Desire and The Interpretation of Desire in Hamlet

Desire and the Interpretation of Desire in Hamlet
Author(s): Jacques Lacan, Jacques-Alain Miller and James Hulbert

Reviewed work(s):
Source: Yale French Studies, No. 55/56, Literature and Psychoanalysis. The Question of
Reading: Otherwise (1977), pp. 11-52
Published by: Yale University Press
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JacquesLacan
of Desire in Hamlet
Desire and theInterpretation
The Object Ophelia
As a sortof come-on,I announcedthatI wouldspeaktodayabout

thatpiece of bait namedOphelia,and I'll be as good as myword.
Our purpose,as you remember, is to showthetragedyof desire
as it appearsin Hamlet,humandesire,thatis, suchas we are con-
cernedwithin psychoanalysis.
We distortthis desireand confuseit withothertermsif we
failto locate it in referenceto a set of co-ordinates that,as Freud
showed,establishthe subjectin a certainpositionof dependence
upon the signifier. The signifieris not a reflection,a productpure
and simpleof whatare called interhuman relationships- all psy-
choanalytic experienceindicatesthe contrary. To accountforthe
presuppositions of this experience,we mustreferto a topological
systemwithoutwhichall the phenomena producedin our domain
wouldbe indistinguishable and meaningless. The illustrationshows
the essentialco-ordinates of thistopology.
The storyofHamlet(and thisis whyI choseit) revealsa most
vividdramaticsense of thistopology, and thisis the sourceof its
exceptionalpowerof captivation. Shakespeare'spoeticskilldoubt-
less guidedhimalongtheway,stepby step,butwe can also assume
thathe introducedinto.the play some observations fromhis own
experience,howeverindirectly.
Shakespeare'splay containsone shiftin the plot that distin-
guishesit fromprevioustreatments of the story,includingboth
the narratives of Saxo Grammaticus and Belleforest and the other
playsofwhichwe possessfragments. This shiftinvolvesthecharac-
ter Ophelia.
Opheliais present, to be sure,fromthebeginning of thelegend
on. She appearsin the earlyversions,as I've said, as the bait in
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the trapthat Hamletdoesn'tfall into,firstbecause he's warned

in advance,and thenbecauseOpheliaherselfrefusesto have any
partof it, havinglongbeen in love withthe prince,accordingto
Belleforest'sversion.Perhaps Shakespearemerelyextendedher
functionin the plot,whichis to captureHamlet'ssecretby sur-
prise. But she thus becomes one of the innermostelementsin
Hamlet'sdrama,the dramaof Hamletas the man who has lost
the wayof his desire.She providesan essentialpivotin the hero's
progresstowardhis mortalrendezvouswithhis act-an act that
he carriesout,in some sense,in spiteof himself.Thereis a level
in the subjecton whichit can be said that his fateis expressed
in termsofa puresignifier,
a levelat whichhe is merelythereverse-
side of a messagethatis not even his own. Well, Hamletis the
veryimageof thislevel of subjectivity,
as we shall see even more
clearlyin what follows.
Our firststep in this directionwas to expressthe extentto

whichthe playis dominatedby the Motheras Other[Autre],i.e.,
the primordialsubject of the demand[la demande].The omni-
potenceof whichwe are alwaysspeakingin psychoanalysis is first
of all theomnipotence ofthesubjectas subjectofthefirstdemand,
and this omnipotence mustbe relatedback to the Mother.
The principalsubjectof the play is beyondall doubt Prince
Hamlet.The play is the dramaof an individualsubjectivity, and
the herois alwayspresenton stage,morethanin any otherplay.
How is the desireof the Othermanifested in the veryperspective
of this subject,PrinceHamlet?This desire,of the mother,is es-
sentiallymanifested in the factthat,confrontedon one handwith
an eminent,idealized, exalted object -his father-and on the
otherwiththe degraded,despicableobject Claudius,the criminal
and adulterousbrother, Hamletdoes not choose.
His motherdoes notchoosebecauseofsomething presentinside
voracity.The sacrosanctgenitalobjectthat
her,like an instinctive
we recentlyadded to our technicalvocabularyappearsto her as
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an objectto be enjoyed[objet d'une jouissance] in what is truly

thedirectsatisfaction
ofa need,and nothing else.This is theaspect
that makes Hamletwaverin his abjurationof his mother.Even
when he transmitsto her-in the crudest, cruellest terms-the
essentialmessagewithwhichthe ghost,his father,has entrusted
him,he stillfirstappealsto her to abstain.Then,a momentlater,
his appealfails,and he sends her to Claudius'bed, intothe arms
of the man who once againwill not failto makeheryield.
This fall,this abandon,gives us a modelthat enablesus to
conceivehow it is that Hamlet's desire-his zeal with respect
to an act thathe so longsto carryout thatthe wholeworldbe-
comes forhim a livingreproachforhis perpetualinadequacyto
his own will-how thiszeal alwaysflags.The dependenceof his
desire on the Other subject formsthe permanentdimensionof
Hamlet'sdrama.
To geta bettergripon theproblemwe mustgo intoa psycho-
logical detail that would remainutterlyenigmaticif it were not
placed in the total orientationthat determines the directionand
meaningof the tragedy:how this permanent dimensiontouches
the verynerveand sinewof Hamlet'swill-which would appear
in mydiagramas the hook,the questionmark,of the Che vuoi?
of subjectivity constitutedand articulatedin the Other.1
1 Lacan refersrepeatedlyin these sessions of his seminarto a series
of diagramswith which his audience is already familiarfromthe previous
year. Three of the diagrams are reproducedhere as they appear in the
text "Subversion du sujet et dialectique du desir dans l'inconscientfreu-
dien" (1960; in Jacques Lacan, ecrits [Paris: Seuil, 1966], pp. 793-827;
graphs,pp. 805, 808 [not reproducedhere],815, 817). The readeris referred
both to the theoreticaldevelopmentprovided by the essay and to the
remarks on these graphs in the "Table commenteedes representations
graphiques"preparedby Jacques-AlainMiller for inclusion in the second
and succeeding editions of the 8crits ("Les graphes du desir," pp. 907-
908). Cf. also the English edition, Ecrits: A Selection (Norton, 1977)
pp. 334-335.-Tr.
GR~~pa-
3 ~CRP,_ 41~,
U;
4(1
, eIo K
~~ I A i I) ItA
p,
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The end-term thatbuttresses thismodelof the subjectand his

question,is symbolizedon our graphby the barredsubject($) in
thepresenceoftheobjecta - in theeconomicsystemofthepsyche
we call thisthefantasy.Desire,whichcan be situatedon the line
A [$0D]at a variableindeterminate point,findsin thefantasyits
reference,its substratum,its precise tuningin the imaginary
register.
There is something mysterious about the fantasy;indeed,it's
ambiguousand paradoxical.It is on one hand the end-termof
desire,and on the otherhand,if we approachit fromone of its
aspects,it's actuallylocatedin the conscious: ambiguousindeed.
Insofaras thefantasymarkseveryhumanpassionwiththosetraits
whichwe call perverse, paradoxicalform
it appearsin a sufficiently
to have long ago motivatedthe rejectionof the phantasmatic
dimensionas beingon the orderof the absurd.In thisrespectan
essentialstep was takenin the presentage when psychoanalysis
undertookthe interpretation of the fantasyin its veryperversity.
This interpretationwas made possibleonlyby placingthe fantasy
in an economyof the unconscious -this is what you see in the
graph.
On this graphthe fantasyis hookedup on the circuitof the
unconscious,a very different one fromthe circuitcommanded
by the subject,whichI call the level of the demand[demande].
In thenormalstateof affairs, nothing fromtheunconsciouscircuit
is carriedoverto the level of the message,of the signifiedof the
Other,whichis the sum and moduleof the significations acquired
bythesubjectin humandiscourse. The fantasyis notcommunicated
to the messagelevel: it remainsseparateand unconscious. When,
on the otherhand,it does crossoverto the level of the message,
we findourselvesin an atypicalsituation.The phasesin whichthe
fantasymakes this crossoverare of a more or less pathological
order.We shall give a name to these momentsof crossover,of
communication, which,as the diagramindicates,can take place
onlyin one direction.I underscore thisessentialstatement,because
our purposehere is to refineour understanding and application
of thisapparatus.
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For now, let us consideronly how the momentin which

Hamlet's desire becomes distractedand deflectedfunctionsin
Shakespeare'stragedy,insofaras thismomentmustbe relatedback
to thepreciseadjustments ofhis imaginary register.
Ophelia'splace
in thisconstellation
is on the level of the lettera as it appearsin
our representationof the fantasy.[....]
With respectto the object a, at once image and pathos,the
subjectfeelshimselfto be in an imaginary situationof otherness.
This object satisfiesno need and is itselfalreadyrelative,i.e.,
placed in relationto the subject.It is obviousfromsimplephe-
nomenology (and this is somethingto whichI shall returnin a
fewmoments)thatthe subjectis presentin the fantasy.And the
objectis the objectof desireonlyby virtueof beingthe end-term
of the fantasy.The object takes the place, I would say, of what
the subject is-symbolically -deprived of.
This may seem a bit abstractto those who have not accom-
paniedus alongthe road thathas led up to thispoint.Whatis it
thatthe subjectis deprivedof? The phallus; and it is fromthe
phallusthatthe object gets its functionin the fantasy, and from
the phallus that desire is constitutedwith the fantasyas its
reference.
The object of the fantasy,image and pathos,is that other
elementthat takes the place of what the subjectis symbolically
deprivedof.Thus the imaginary objectis in a positionto condense
in itselfthe virtuesor the dimensionof beingand to becomethat
veritabledelusionofbeing[leurrede le'tre)thatSimoneWeil treats
whenshe focuseson the verydensestand mostopaque relation-
shipof a man to the objectof his desire: the relationship of Mo-
liere'sMiserto his strongbox. This is the culminationof thefetish
characterof the objectof humandesire.Indeed all objectsof the
humanworldhave this character,fromone angle at least. [....]
The opaque characterof the objecta in the imaginary fantasy
determines it in its mostpronounced formsas thepole of perverse
desire.It is the structural elementof perversions, insofaras per-
is
version characterized by the completeemphasisin the fantasy
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on the strictlyimaginary term,a. In parentheses withit we also

encounter a plusb plusc and so forth:themostelaboratecombina-
tionsof sequelae,of lingering tracescombinedby chance,by means
of whicha fantasyhas crystallizedand functionsin a perverse
desire.But howeverbizarrethe fantasyof perversedesiremayap-
pear to you,neverforgetthatthe subjectis alwaysin some way
presentand involvedin that fantasy.In the fantasythe subject
alwaysstandsin some relationship to the pathosof existence-to
the sufferingof existingitselfor thatof existingas a termin a
sexualconfiguration. For a sadisticfantasyto endure,thesubject's
interestin the personwho suffershumiliation mustobviouslybe
due to the possibilityof the subject'sbeingsubmitted to the same
humiliation himself.This is the phenomenological pointto which
I was alludinga fewmoments ago. It's a wonderindeedthatpeople
could ever thinkof avoidingthis dimensionand could treatthe
sadistictendencyas an instanceof primalaggressionpure and
simple.
2
The timehas come to articulatethe true oppositionbetween
perversion and neurosis.
Perversionis indeedsomething articulate,interpretable,analyz-
able, and on preciselythe same level as neurosis.In the fantasy,
as I have said,an essentialrelationship of the subjectto his being
is localizedand fixed.Well,whereasin the perversion, the accent
is on theobjecta, theneurosiscan be situatedas havingits accent
on the othertermof the fantasy, the $.
The fantasyis locatedat the extremetip,the end-point of the
subject'squestion,as if it wereits buttress[butee:lit.,abutment],
just as thesubjecttriesto get controlof himselfin the fantasy, in
the space beyondthe demand.This is becausehe mustfindagain
in the verydiscourseof the Otherwhat was lost for him,the
subject,themomenthe enteredintothisdiscourse.Whatultimately
mattersis notthe truthbut thehour[I'heure]of truth.
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This is what permitsus to specifythe factorthat most pro-

ioundlydistinguishes the fantasyof neurosisfromthe fantasyof
perversion.
The fantasyof perversion is namable.It is in space.It suspends
an essentialrelationship.It is not atemporalbut ratheroutsideof
time.In neurosis,on thecontrary, theverybasis oftherelationships
of subjectto objecton the fantasylevel,is the relationship of the
subjectto time.The objectis chargedwiththe significance sought
in whatI call the hourof truth,in whichthe object is alwaysat
anotherhour,fastor slow,earlyor late.
I have said beforethathysteriais characterized by thefunction
of an unsatisfied desireand obsessionby the functionof an im-
possibledesire.But beyondthesetwo termsthe two cases are dis-
tinguished byinverserelationships withtime: theobsessiveneurotic
alwaysrepeatsthe initialgermof his trauma,i.e., a certainpre-
cipitancy, a fundamental lack of maturation.
This is at the base of neuroticbehavior,in its most general
form: the subjecttriesto findhis sense of time [lireson heure]
in his object,and it is even in the objectthathe willlearnto tell
time[lirel'heure].This is wherewe getback to our friendHamlet,
to whomeveryonecan attributeat will all the formsof neurotic
behavior,as faras you wantto go, i.e., up to characterneurosis.
The firstfactorthatI indicatedto you in Hamlet'sstructure was
his situationof dependencewithrespectto the desireof theOther,
the desireof his mother.Here now is the secondfactorthatI ask
you to recognize:Hamletis constantly suspendedin the timeof
the Other,throughout the entirestoryuntilthe veryend.
Do you remember one of the firstturning-points we focussed
on whenwe werebeginning to decipherthetextofHamlet?During
the play scene the kingbecomesunsettledand visiblyrevealshis
ownguilt,incapableofviewingthe dramatization of his owncrime.
Hamletrelisheshis triumph and mockstheking.But on thewayto
the meetinghe has alreadyarrangedwithhis mother,he comes
uponhis stepfather in prayer:Claudiusis shakento the depthsof
his beingby the scene that has just shownhim the verycoun-
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tenance and programof his deed. Hamlet stands before this

Claudius,whoby everyindicationis not onlyin no stateto defend
himselfbut also does not even see the threatthathangsover his
head. And Hamletstops,because it's not time.It's not the hour
of the Other: not time for the Otherto renderhis "audit" to
heaven.That would be too kind,fromone pointof view,or too
cruel,fromanother.That mightnot avengehis fatherproperly,
because prayer,beinga gestureof repentance, mightopen up the
way to salvationfor Claudius. In any case, one thingis sure:
Hamlet,who has just managedto "catch the conscienceof the
king"as planned-stops.Not fora momentdoes he thinkthathis
timehas come.Whatevermay happenlater,this is not the hour
of the Other,and he suspendshis action.WhateverHamletmay
do, he willdo it onlyat thehourof the Other.
Hamletacceptseverything. Let's notforget thatat thebeginning,
in the stateof disgusthe was alreadyin (evenbeforehis meeting
withtheghost)becauseofhis mother'sremarriage, he thoughtonly
of leaving for Wittenberg. A recentcommentary on a certain
practicalitythatis becomingmoreand moretypicalof present-day
notingthatHamletwas the best
life,used thisas an illustration,
exampleof the factthatmanydramaticcrisescan be avoidedby
the promptissuanceof passports.If Hamlethad been givenhis
papersto travelto Wittenberg, therewould have been no drama.
Whenhe stayson, it is the hourof his parents.Whenhe sus-
pendshis crime,it is the hourof the others.When he leaves for
England,it is thehourofhis stepfather.It's thehourofRosencrantz
and Guildenstern when he sends themon ahead to death-with
a casualnessthatamazedFreud-by meansof a bit of hocus-pocus
thathe bringsoffnothalfbadly.And it is thehourof Ophelia,the
hour of her suicide,when the tragedywill run its course,in a
momentwhenHamlethas just realizedthatit's not hardto kill a
man, the time to say "one" . . . he won't know what hit him.
He receiveswordof an eventthatin no wayseemsto promise
an opportunity
to kill Claudius: a tournament,the rulesof which
have been workedout to the last detail.Theytempthimwiththe
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stakes-all preciousobjects,swords,fittings, and otherthingsthat

have value onlyas luxuries; this shouldbe followedin the text,
fortheseare the nuancesof the worldof the collector.Hamlet's
senseofrivalry and honoris arousedby theassumption thatLaertes
is the moreskillfulswordsmanand by the handicapthusgranted
to Hamletin the termsof the wager.This complicatedceremony
is a trapforhimto fallinto,laid by his stepfather and his friend
Laertes: we knowthis,but Hamletdoes not.For him,goingalong
withthe wagerwill be a lark,like playinghookey.Still,he feels
a slightwarningsignalin the regionof his heart: something troub-
les him.For a momentherethe dialecticof foreboding bringsits
specialaccentto the play.But, all in all, it is stillat the hourof
the Other,and what's more,for the sake of the Other'swager
(forit is Claudius,not Hamlet,whose possessionsare at stake),
wearingthe king'scolors,for his stepfather's sake, that Hamlet
entersintothissupposedlyfriendly combatwitha manconsidered
to be a betterswordsman thanhe. Thus Claudiusand Laerteshave
arousedhis sense of rivalryand honor,as part of a trapthat is
calculatedto be foolproof.
Thus he rushes into the trap laid by the Other.All that's
changedis the energyand firewithwhichhe rushesintoit. Until
the last term,untilthe finalhour,Hamlet'shour,in whichhe is
mortally woundedbeforehe woundshis enemy,thetragedy follows
its courseand attainscompletion at the hourof Other: thisis the
absolutelyessentialframework for our conceptionof what is in-
volvedhere.
This is thesensein whichHamlet'sdramahas theprecisemeta-
physicalresonanceof the questionof the modernhero. Indeed,
something has changedsinceclassicalantiquityin the relationship
of the heroto his fate.
As I have said, the thingthat distinguishes Hamlet from
Oedipus is that Hamlet knows.This characteristic explains,for
example,Hamlet's madness.In the tragediesof antiquity,there
are mad heroes,but, to the best of my knowledge,thereare no
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heroes-in tragedy,I say, not in legends-no heroes who feign

madness.Hamlet,however,does.
I am not sayingthateverything in his madnesscomesdownto
feigning,butI do underscore thefactthattheessentialcharacteristic
in theoriginallegend,i.e.,in theversionsofSaxo Grammaticus and
Belleforest,is thatthe herofeignsmadnessbecausehe knowsthat
he is in a positionof weakness.And fromthatmomenton, every-
thinghingeson the questionof what'sgoingon in his mind.
Howeversuperficial this characteristicmay seem to you, it's
stillthethingthatShakespeareseizedon forhis Hamlet.He chose
the storyof a hero who is forcedto feignmadnessin orderto
followthewindingpathsthatlead himto thecompletion ofhis act.
The personwhoknowsis indeedin sucha perilousposition, marked
forfailureand sacrifice,thathe is led to feignmadness,and even,
as Pascal says,to be mad alongwitheveryoneelse. Feigningmad-
nessis thusone ofthedimensions ofwhatwe mightcall thestrategy
of the modernhero.
Thus we arriveat the pointat whichOpheliamustfulfillher

role.If the structure of theplayis reallyas complexas I have just
portrayed it as being,you maybe wondering, whatis the pointof
the characterOphelia?Opheliais obviouslyessential.She is linked
forever, forcenturies, to thefigureof Hamlet.
Some people have reproachedme forthe timidity withwhich
theyfeel I've been proceeding.I don't thinkthat's the case. I
wouldn'twant to encourageyou to producethe sort of hogwash
thatpsychoanalytic textsare fullof.I'm justsurprised thatnobody's
pointedout thatOpheliais 0 phallos,becauseyoufindotherthings
equallygross,flagrant, extravagant, if you just open the Paperson
Hamlet.whichElla Sharpunfortunately leftunfinished and which
it was perhapsa mistaketo publishafterherdeath.
Since it's gettinglate, I just want to stresswhat happensto
Opheliain the courseof the play.
We firsthear Opheliaspokenof as the cause of Hamlet'ssad
state.This is Polonius'psychoanalytic wisdom: Hamletis sad, and
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that'sbecause he's not happy,and if he's not happy,it's because

of my daughter.You don't know her-she's the veryfinestthere
is-and I, of course,as a father,
couldneverpermitherto....
We firstencounter Ophelia-and thismakesherquitea remark-
able figurealready-in the contextof a clinicalobservation.She
indeed has the good fortuneto be the firstpersonHamlet runs
into afterhis unsettlingencounterwiththe ghost,and she reports
his behaviorin termsthatare worthnoting.
My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,

Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced,
No hat upon his head, his stockingsfouled,
Ungartered,and down-gyvedto his ankle,
Pale as his shirt,his knees knockingeach other,
And with a look so piteous in purport
As if he had been loosed out of hell
To speak of horrors-he comes before me.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
He took me by the wristand held me hard.

Then goes he to the length of all his arm,
And with his other hand thus o'er his brow
He falls to such perusal of my face
As 'a would draw it. Long stayed he so.
At last, a little shaking of mine arm
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound
As it did seem to shatterall his bulk
And end his being. That done, he lets me go,
And with his head over his shoulder turned
He seemed to find his way without his eyes,
For out o' doors he went withouttheir helps
And to the last bended their light on me.
(Act II, Sc. I)
And Poloniuscriesout: This is love!

This distancefromthe object that Hamlet takes in orderto
move on to whatevernew and henceforth difficult
identification,
his vacillation
in thepresenceofwhathas beenuntilnowtheobject
of supremeexaltation, givesus the firststage,whichis, to use the
Englishword,one of "estrangement."
That's all we can say. Nevertheless, I don't believe that it's
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excessiveto designatethismomentas pathological, relatedto those

periodsof irruption,
ofsubjectivedisorganization whichoccurwhen
something in the fantasywaversand makesthe components of the
fantasyappear. This experience,called depersonalization, in the
courseof whichthe imaginary limitsbetweensubjectand object
change,leads us to whatis called in the strictsense the fantastic
dimension[le fantastique].
This dimensionarises when somethingfromthe imaginary
structureof thefantasyis placedin communication withsomething
thatnormally reachesthelevelofthemessage,i.e.,theimageof the
othersubject,in the case in whichthat image is my own ego.
Moreover,some authorslike Federnnote withgreatprecisionthe
necessarycorrelation betweenthefeelingof thesubject'sownbody
and thestrangeness ofthatwhicharisesin a certaincrisis,a certain
rupture,whenthe object as such is attained.
I mayhaveforcedthingsherea bit forthepurposeofinteresting
you by showingyou how this episode is relatedto certaintypes
of clinicalexperience. But I assureyou thatwithoutreference to
thispathological schemait is impossibleto locate whatFreudwas
the firstto elevateto the level of analysisunderthe nameof das
Unheimliche, the uncanny,whichis linkednot,as some believed,
to all sorts of irruptionsfromthe unconscious,but ratherto
an imbalancethatarisesin thefantasy whenit decomposes, crossing
thelimitsoriginally assignedto it,and rejoinstheimageof theother
subject.
In the case of Hamlet,Opheliais afterthisepisodecompletely
nulland dissolvedas a love object."I did love you once,"Hamlet
says. Henceforth his relationswith Opheliawill be carriedon in
that sarcasticstyleof cruel aggressionwhichmakesthese scenes
-and particularly thescene thatoccupiesthe middleof theplay-
the strangest in all of classicalliterature.
In thisattitudewe finda traceof whatI mentioned a moment
ago, the perverseimbalanceof the fantasmatic relationship,
when
the fantasyis tippedtowardthe object.Hamletno longertreats
Ophelialikea womanat all. She becomesin his eyesthechildbearer
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to everysin, a future"breederof sinners,"destinedto succumb

to everycalumny.She is no longerthe reference-point fora life
thatHamletcondemnsin its essence.In short,whatis takingplace
hereis the destruction and loss of the object.For the subjectthe
objectappears,ifI mayput it thisway,on theoutside.The subject
is no longertheobject: he rejectsit withall theforceof his being
and will not findit again untilhe sacrificeshimself.It is in this
sensethattheobjectis heretheequivalentof,assumestheplace of,
indeedis-the phallus.
This is the second stage in the relationship of the subjectto
the object. Ophelia is at this point the phallus,exteriorized and
rejectedby the subjectas a symbolsignifying life.
Whatis the indicationof this?There'sno need to resortto the
etymology of "Ophelia."Hamletspeaks constantly of one thing:
child-bearing."Conceptionis a blessing,"he tellsPolonius,butkeep
an eye on yourdaughter.And all of his dialoguewithOpheliais
directedat womanconceivedas the bearerof that vital swelling
thathe cursesand wishesdriedup forever.The use of the word
"nunnery"in Shakespeare'stime indicatesthat it can also refer
to a brothel.And isn'ttherelationship ofthephallusand theobject
of desirealso indicatedin Hamlet'sattitudeduringtheplayscene?
In Ophelia'spresencehe says of her to his mother,"Here's metal
more attractive," and wants to place his head betweenthe girl's
legs: "Lady,shall I lie in yourlap?"
Considering the greatinterestof iconographers in the subject,
I don't thinkit excessiveto note that the list of flowersin the
midstof whichOphelia drownsherself,explicitlyincludes"dead
men'sfingers." The plantin questionis the Orchismascula,which
is relatedto themandrakeand henceto thephallicelement.You'll
find "dead men's fingers"in the Oxford English Dictionary,both
under "finger"and in an entryof its own under "D," where
Shakespeare'sallusionis dulycited.
The thirdstage,to whichI have alreadydirectedyourattention
severaltimes,is thegraveyardscene,in thecourseof whichHamlet
is finallypresentedwith the possibility
of windingthingsup, of
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rushingto his fate.The wholesceneis directedtowardthatfurious

battleat thebottomof the tomb,whichI have stressedrepeatedly,
and whichis entirely of Shakespeare'sown invention. Here we see
something of the object a, won back here at
like a reintegration
the priceof mourning and death.
I shouldbe able to finishup nexttime.
(15 April 1959)
Desire and Mourning
Thus,forHamlet,the appointment is alwaystoo early,and he

postponesit. Procrastination is thus one of the essentialdimen-
sionsof thetragedy.
When,on the contrary, he does act,it is alwaystoo soon.When
does he act? Whenall ofa suddensomething in therealmofevents,
beyondhimand his deciding,calls out to himand seemsto offer
himsomesortof ambiguousopening, whichhas,in specificpsycho-
analyticalterms,introducedthe perspectivewe call flight[uite]
intothedimension of accomplishment.
Nothingcouldbe cleareron thisscorethanthemomentinwhich
Hamletrushesat whateverit is movingbehindthe arrasand kills
Polonius.Or thinkof himawakeningin the dead of nighton the
storm-tossed ship,goingaboutalmostin a daze, breakingthe seals
ofthemessageborneby Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,substituting
almostautomatically one messageforanother,and duplicating the
royalseal withhis father'sring.He thenhas theamazinggoodluck
to be carriedoffby pirates,whichenableshimto ditchhis guards,
who will go offunwittingly to theirown execution.
We recognizeherea phenomenology thatis familiarto us from
our experienceand our conceptions:the phenomenology of the
neuroticand his relationto his life.But I have soughtto lead you
beyondthesecharacteristics, howeverstriking theymaybe.
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JacquesLacan
I wantedto open your eyes to one structuraltrait that is

presentthroughout the play: Hamletis alwaysat the hourof the
Other.
That, of course,is just a mirage,because,as I've said, there's
no such thingas an Otherof the Other[ii n'y a pas d'Autrede
l'Autre].2 In thesignifierthereis nothing thatguarantees thedimen-
sion of truthfoundedby thesignifier. For Hamletthereis no hour
but his own. Moreover,thereis only one hour,the hour of his
destruction. The entiretragedyof Hamletis constituted in theway
it showsus the unrelenting movement of the subjecttowardthat
hour.
Yet the subject'sappointment withthe hourof his destruction
is the commonlot of everyone, meaningful in the destinyof every
individual.Withoutsome distinguishing sign,Hamlet'sfatewould
not be of such greatimportance to us. That's the nextquestion:
what is the specificity of Hamlet'sfate?What makesit so extra-
ordinarily problematic?
What does Hamletlack? Can we, on the basis of the plan of
the tragedy, as composedby Shakespeare, pin downand spell out
thislack in a waythatgoes beyondall the approximations thatwe
have a way of permitting ourselvesand thatproducethe general
fuzzinessnot onlyof our terminology but also of how we act with
our patientsand ofthesuggestions we maketo them?
Nevertheless, let's startwith an approximation. You can say
in simple,everyday termswhatHamletlacks: he's neverset a goal
2 This often repeated Lacanian formulahelps to distinguishthe Other

(capitalized) from the other (lower case) in Lacan's own discourse and
from earlier uses of the terms by other authors. The Lacanian Other is
in no way the complementor the negation of the subject, nor itself es-
sentiallya subject. Although the subject may take actual persons,begin-
ning with the father,as incarnationsof the Other, the Other functions
only in the symbolicregister,only in the context of language,authority,
and sanction.All this makes it impossiblefor the Other
law, transgression,
to have an Other of its own.-Tr.
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forhimself, an object-a choicethatalwayshas something "arbi-

trary"about it.
To put it in commonsensical terms,Hamletjust doesn'tknow
whathe wants.This aspectis broughtout in thespeechthatShake-
spearehas himpronounce at one oftheturning-pointsin thedrama,
themomentwhenhe dropsout of sight,thebriefintervalwhenhe
goes away on this nauticalexcursionfromwhichhe will return
mostrapidly.He has no soonerleftforEngland,stillobediant,in
compliancewiththe king'sorders,thanhe encounters the troops
of Fortinbras, who has been presentfromthe beginningin the
background of thetragedyand who at the end willcometo gather
the dead, to tidyup, to restoreorder.In this scene our friend
Hamletis struckby the sightof thesecourageoustroopsgoingoff
to conquera fewacresof Polishsoil forthe sake of somemoreor
pretext.This givesHamletpause to consider
less pointlessmilitary
his own behavior.
How all occasions do informagainst me

And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
-the expressionthatis glossed"reason"is "largediscourse,"fun-

damentaldiscourse,what I have referredto in otherseminarsas
"concretediscourse"-
... such large discourse,

Looking before and after...
-now here'swheretheword"reason"comesin-
... gave us not

That capabilityand godlike reason
To fust in us unused. Now, whetherit be
Bestial oblivion...
by whichto measure
-"bestial oblivion,"one of the key-words
Hamlet'sexistencein the tragedy-
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JacquesLacan
... or some craven scruple

Of thinkingtoo preciselyon th' event-
A thoughtwhich,quartered,hathbut one partwisdom
And ever three parts coward-I do not know
Why yet I live to say, "This thing'sto do,"
Sith I have cause, and will,and strength,
and means
To do't. Examples gross as earth exhortme.
Witness this army of such mass and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
Whose spirit,with divine ambition puffed,
Makes mouths at the invisible event,
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune,death, and danger dare,
Even for an eggshell.Rightlyto be great
Is not to stir withoutgreat argument,
But greatlyto find quarrel in a straw
When honor's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a fatherkilled, a motherstained,
Excitementsof my reason and my blood,
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
The imminentdeath of twentythousand men
That for a fantasyand trick of fame
Go to their graves like beds, fightfor a plot
Whereon the numberscannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the slain? 0, from this time forth,
My thoughtsbe bloody, or be nothingworth!
(Act IV, Sc. IV)
Such is Hamlet'smeditationon the object of humanaction.

This object leaves the door wide open to us for all of what I
shallcall the particularizations
thatwe shallconsider.That is true
dedication-sheddingone's blood for a noble cause, for honor.
Honor,too,is portrayed correctly:beingtotallycommittedbyone's
word.As forthegift,we as analystscannotoverlookthisconcrete
determination, cannothelpbeingstruckby its weight,
be it in flesh
or in commitment.
What I'm tryingto showyou hereis not merelythe common
formofall this,theleastcommondenominator: it's nota question
of formalism.When I writethe formula$ a at the end of the
questionthat the subject,in search of his last word, asks in
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the Other,thisis not something thatis actuallyopento investiga-

tion,exceptin thatspecialexperience. whichwe call psychoanalytic
experience and whichmakespossiblethe exploration of theuncon-
sciouscircuitrunning alongthe uppertrackof the graph.
Whatwe'reconcernedwithis theshortcircuitin theimaginary
registerbetweendesireand thatwhichis acrossfromit, i.e., the
fantasy.I expressthe generalstructureof the fantasyby $ a,
where$ is a certainrelationshipofthesubjectto thesignifier-itis
the subjectas irreducibly affectedby the signifier-andwhere
indicatesthe subject's relationshipto an essentiallyimaginary.
juncture[conjoncture],designated by a, nottheobjectof desirebut
the object in desire.
Let's tryto get some notionof this functionof the object in
desire.The dramaof Hamlet makes it possibleforus to arrive
at an exemplary articulationof thisfunction, and this is whywe
have such a persistentinterestin the structureof Shakespeare's
play.
This is our starting point: throughhis relationship to the sig-
is of
n fier,the subject deprived something of:himself, his very
of
life,whichhas assumedthe value of thatwhichbindshimto the
The phallusis our termforthe signifier
signifier. of his alienation
in signification.When the subjectis deprivedof this signifier, a
particularobject becomes for him an object of desire. This is
the meaningof $ a.
The objectof desireis essentially different fromthe objectof
any need [besoin].Something becomesan object in desirewhen
it takes the place of what by its verynatureremainsconcealed
fromthe subject: that self-sacrifice,thatpoundof fleshwhichis
mortgaged [engage] in his relationship
to the signifier.
This is profoundly enigmatic, forit is ultimatelya relationship
to something secretand hidden.If you'llpermitme to use one of
thoseformulas whichcome to me as I writemynotes,humanlife
could be definedas a calculusin whichzero was irrational. This
formulais just an image,a mathematical metaphor.When I say
"irrational,"I'm referringnotto someunfathomable emotional state
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JacquesLacan
but preciselyto what is called an imaginary number.The square

root of minusone doesn'tcorrespondto anything thatis subject
to our intuition, anythingreal-in the mathematical sense of the
term-and yet,it mustbe conserved,alongwithits fullfunction.
It's the same with that hiddenelementof livingreference, the
subject,insofaras, takingon the functionof signifier,
he cannotbe
subjectifiedas such.
The notation$ expressesthe necessitythat S be eclipsedat
theprecisepointwherethe objecta attainsits greatestvalue.This
is preciselywhywe can graspthe truefunction of the objectonly
by surveying its variouspossiblerelationshipsto this element.It
would be excessive,perhaps,if I were to say thatthe tragedyof
Hamlet took us over the entirerangeof those functionsof the
object. But it definitely
does enable us to go muchfurther than
anyonehas evergoneby any route.
Let's startwiththe ending,the meetingplace,the hourof the

appointment.
The finalact, in whichHamletfinallyputs the fullweightof
his lifeon the line,as the priceforbeingable to accomplishhis
action-this act that he activatesand undergoes,has something
in it of themomentat theend ofthehuntwheneveryone movesin
forthe kill. At the momentwhenhis act reachescompletion, he
is also the deerbroughtto bayby Diana. A plothas been hatched
out betweenClaudius and Laertes with incredibleaudacityand
malice,whateverthe reasonsof each, and withthe assistanceof
thatloathsomeinsect,the ridiculoustoadywho comes to Hamlet
to proposethe tournament, that plot now closes aroundhim.
This is the structure-extraordinarily
simple.The tournament
putsHamletin thepositionofbeingtheonewho,in thewager,takes
up the side of Claudius,his uncle and stepfather.He thus wears
anotherman'scolors.
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The tournament involves,rightly,certainstakes.In thedialogue

betweenHamletand the manwho comesto tellhimof thecondi-
tions of the contest,nothingis spared to dazzle you with the
quality,number,and arrayof the objects wagered.Hamletbets
Laertessix Barbaryhorses,againstwhichLaertesstakes"sixFrench
rapiersand poniards,"a completeoutfitting forduelists,alongwith
"hangers"-thescabbards,I suppose.Threehavewhatthetextcalls
"'mostdelicatecarriages,"an especiallyelegantexpressionto refer
to the loops fromwhichthe swordhangs.It's the sortof worda
collectorwould use, and the same as the word for the support
of a cannon.
These preciousobjects,gatheredtogetherin all theirsplendor,
are stakedagainstdeath.This is whatgivestheirpresentation the
characterof whatis calleda vanitas in the religioustradition.
This
is howall objectsare presented,
all thestakesintheworldofhuman
desire- the objects a.
I have indicatedthe paradoxicaland evenabsurdnatureof the
tournament thatis proposedto Hamlet.Yet he seemsjust to lie
downand rollover,one moretime,as iftherewerenothingin him
to standin the way of his beingconstantly and fundamentally at
somebodyelse's beck and call: "Sir, I will walk here in the hall.
If it please his majesty,it is the breathingtimeof day withme.
Let the foilsbe brought, the gentleman willing,and the kinghold
his purpose,I willwinforhiman I can; ifnot,I willgainnothing
but myshameand the odd hits"(Act V, Sc. II).
This is something thatshowsus theverynatureof the fantasy.
At the momentin whichHamlet is on the point of resolution
-finally,as ever,on the vergeof resolution-there he is, hiring
himselfout to someoneelse, and, what'smore,gettingnothingin
return, doingit all forfree,eventhoughtheotherpersonis precisely
his enemy,the man thathe mustdefeat.He stakeshis resolution
againstthethingsthatinterest himleastin theworld,and he does
this in order to win for someone else.
The others think they can charm Hamlet with these objects,
these collector'sitems,and theyare doubtlesswrong.Still, theyare
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JacquesLacan
makingan effective appeal to whatdoes interesthim.He is inter-

ested forthe sake of honor-whatHegel calls the fightforpure
prestige3-interested forthe sake of honorin a contestthatpits
him againsta rivalwhomhe moreoveradmires.We cannothelp
pausingfora momentto considerthe soundnessof theconnection
advancedby Shakespeare, in whichyou will recognizethe dialectic
ofwhatis alreadya long-familiar momentin our dialogue,themir-
ror stage.
What is expresslyarticulatedin the text-indirectly, it is true,
i.e.,withina parody-is thatat thispointLaertesis forHamlethis
double [semblable].When Osric,the tediouscourtierwho brings
the proposalof the duel, speaks to Hamletof his adversary, de-
pictingthe eminenceof the man to whomhe will have to show
his mettle,Hamletcuts him off: "Sir, his definement suffersno
perdition in you,though, I know,to dividehiminventorially would
dozyth' arithmetic of memory, and yetbut yaw neitherin respect
ofhis quicksail" (Act V, Sc. II). He deliversan extremelyprecious,
flowery speech,parodying the styleof the manhe's addressing. He
concludes:"I takehimto be a soul ofgreatarticle,and his infusion
ofsuchdearthand rareness-as, to maketruedictionofhim,hissem-
blable is his mirror, and who else would tracehim,his umbrage,
nothingmore."
The imageof the other,as you see, is presentedhereas com-
pletelyabsorbingthebeholder.The particular valueof thispassage,
inflatedwith its Gongoristicconceits,is that this is Hamlet's
attitudetowardsLaertesbeforethe duel. The playwright situates
the basis of aggressivity in this paroxysmof absorptionin the
imaginary register,formally expressedas a mirrorrelationship, a
mirrored reaction.The oneyoufight is theoneyouadmirethemost.
The ego ideal is also, accordingto Hegel'sformulawhichsays that
coexistenceis impossible, the one you have to kill.
3"Lutte de par prestige." See the presentationof section B, IV, A

of Hegel's Phenomenologyof Mind in Alexandre Kojeve, Introductiona
la lecture de Hegel, ed. Queneau (Paris; Gallimard, 1947), pp. 11-34,
esp. 18, 22, 24.-Tr.
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Hamletrespondsto thisnecessityonlyon a disinterested level,

thatof the tournament. He commitshimselfin whatwe mightcall
a formal,or even a fictiveway.He is, in truth,entering the most
seriousof games,withoutknowingit. In thatgamehe willlose his
life-in spiteof himself.He is goingout-again, withoutknowing
it-to meethis act and his death,which,butforan intervalofa few
moments, will coincide.
Everything thathe saw in the aggressiverelationship was only
sham,a mirage.Whatdoes thatmean?It meansthathe has entered
into the gamewithout,shall we say,his phallus.This is one way
of expressingthe particularity
of Hamletas subjectin the play.
He does enterintothegame,nevertheless. The foilsare blunted
onlyin his deludedvision.In realitythereis at least one thatisn't,
thathas been markedto be givento Laerteswhentheweaponsare
handedout: it has a real pointand,what'smore,is poisoned.
The off-handedness of a screenwriteris herecoupledwithwhat
we mightcall theformidable intuitionoftheplaywright. Shakespeare
doesn'tactuallybotherto explainhow the poisonedweapongets
fromthe hand of one of the duelistsintothat of the other-this
mustbe one of the difficulties
in playingthescene.In theirscuffle
afterLaertesscoresthe hit fromwhichHamletwill die, the point
changeshands.No one bothersto explainsuchan amazingincident,
and no one needsto. Because the important thingis to showthat
Hamletcan receivethe instrument of deathonlyfromthe other,
and thatit is located outsidethe realmof what can actuallybe
represented on the stage.The dramaof the fulfillment of Hamlet's
desireis playedoutbeyondthepompofthetournament, beyondhis
rivalrywiththat more handsomedouble,the versionof himself
thathe canlove.In thatrealmbeyond,thereis thephallus.Ultimate-
ly the encounterwiththe otherservesonlyto enable Hamletto
identify himselfwiththe fatalsignifier.
The funnythingis, it's therein thetext.There'stalkof foilsas
theyare being handed out: "Give themthe foils,youngOsric.
Cousin Hamlet,/You know the wager?" EarlierHamlet himself
says, "Give us the foils."Betweenthese two moments,Hamlet
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JacquesLacan
makesa play on words: "I'll be yourfoil,Laertes.In mineigno-

rance/Your skillshall,like a stari' th' darkestnight,f Stickfiery
offindeed"(Act V, Sc. II). The Frenchtranslatordoes what he
can: "Laerte,monfleuret[fencing foil]ne sera que fleurette[little
flower]aupresdu votre."But theword"foil"hereclearlydoes not
mean a fencingfoil; the word has a meaning-indeed,a fairly
commonone-that we can traceback to its specificoccurrences in
Shakespeare'sday: "foil" is the same word as the Old French
feujile,used preciouslyto designatea containerfor something
precious,i.e., a jewel case. Thus the passage means: I shall be
theresolelyto set offyourstellarbrillianceagainstthe blackness
of thesky.These are theveryconditions of theduel: theodds are
set at 12 to 9, i.e., Hamletis givena handicap.But whythe pun
on "foil"?It's no accidentthatit's therein the text.
One ofHamlet'sfunctions is to engagein constantpunning, word
play,double-entendre-to playon ambiguity. Note thatShakespeare
givesan essentialrolein hisplaysto thosecharacters thatare called
fools,courtjesterswhosepositionallowsthemto uncoverthemost
hiddenmotives, thecharacter traitsthatcannotbe discussedfrankly
withoutviolatingthe normsof properconduct.It's not a matter
of mereimpudenceand insults.What theysay proceedsbasically
by wayof ambiguity, of metaphor, puns,conceits,mannered speech
-those substitutions of signifiers whose essential I
function have
been stressing.Those substitutions lend Shakespeare'stheatera
style,a color,thatis thebasis of its psychological dimension. Well,
Hamlet,in a certainsense,mustbe considered one oftheseclowns.
The factthat he is a particularly disturbingcharactershouldnot
keepus from -realizing thathis is thetragedythatbringsaboutthis
fool's, this punster'sannihilation.Withoutthis dimension,as
someonehas pointedout, morethan eightyper cent of the play
woulddisappear.
This constantambiguityis one of the dimensionsin which
Hamlet'stensionis achieved,a tensionthat is concealedby the
masquerade-like side of things.For Claudius,the usurper,the es-
sentialthingis to unmaskHamlet'sintentions, to findout why
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he is feigningmadness.Still,we mustnotneglectthewayin which

Hamletfeignsmadness,his way of pluckingideas out of the air,
opportunities forpunningequivocation, to dazzle his enemieswith
thebrillianceof an inspiredmoment-allof whichgivehis speech
an almostmaniacalquality.
The othersthenstartto build on thisthemselves, even to tell
tales.Whatstrikesthemin whatHamletsaysis notits discordance
but on the contrary its specialpertinence.It is in thisplayfulness,
whichis not merelya play of disguisesbut the play of signifiers
in thedimension ofmeaning, thattheveryspiritoftheplayresides.
Everything thatHamletsays,and at thesametimethereactions
of those aroundhim,constituteas manyproblemsin whichthe
audienceis constantly losingits bearings.This is the source of
thescopeand importoftheplay.
I remindyou of all thisto convinceyou thatthereis nothing
arbitraryor excessiveaboutallowingthislastlittlepunon theword
"foil"all its force.Hamlet'spun touchesthe immediatequestion
[Hamletfaitjeu de motsavec ce qui est alorsen jeu]: thedistribu-
tionof the weapons.He says to Laertes,"I'll be yourfoil."And,
sureenough,whatwillappeara momentlaterbut theveryfoilthat
woundshim mortallyand that also will permithim to complete
his circuitand to kill both his opponentand the king,the final
objectofhis mission.In thispun therelies ultimately an identifica-
tion withthe mortalphallus.
Here thenis theconstellation in whichthe finalact is situated.
The duelbetweenHamletand his morehandsomedoubleis on the
lowerlevel of our graph,i(a)-m. Here the man forwhomevery
manor womanis merelya wavering, reeking ghostofa livingbeing,
findsa rivalhis own size. The presenceof thiscustomizeddouble
will permithim,at least fora moment, to hold up his end of the
humanwager: in that moment,he, too, will be a man. But this
customizing job is onlya result,not the beginning:it is the con-
sequenceoftheimmanent presenceofthephallus,whichwillbe able
to appearonlywiththe disappearance of the subjecthimself.The
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JacquesLacan
subjectwill succumbeven beforehe takes it in hand to become

himselfa murderer.
One questionarises: whatenableshim to have access to this
signifier
in thisway? To reply,we shall returnonce moreto our
crossroads,thismostunusualcrossroads,whichI have mentioned
before,i.e., to what takes place in the graveyard.[....]
Let me ask you to returnto the graveyard scene,to whichI

havealreadyreferred youthreetimes.Thereyouwillsee something
utterlycharacteristic: Hamletcannotbear Laertes'displayof sor-
row at his sister'sburial. It is the ostentatiousness
of Laertes'
mourning thatmakesHamletlose control,thatstaggershim,that
shakeshimso profoundly thathe cannotputup withit anylonger.
This is the firstrivalryand the mostauthenticby far.Whereas
Hamletapproachesthe duel withthe wholeapparatusof chivalry
and a bluntedfoil,at the graveyardhe goes forLaertes'throat,
leaping into the hole into whichOphl.ia's body has just been
lowered.
Show me what thou't do.
Woo't weep? woo't fight?woo't fast?....
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I.
And if thou prate of mountains,let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
Singeing his pate against the burningzone,
Make Ossa like a wartl Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
Thereuponeveryoneis scandalizedand rushesto separatethe

warringbrothers.And Hamletcontinues:
Hear you, sir.
What is the reason that you use me thus?
I loved you ever. But it is no matter.
Let Hercules himselfdo what he may,
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
(Act V, Sc. I)
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There'sa proverbial elementherewhichI thinkderivesall itsforce

fromanalogiesthatsome of you are capableof drawing-I cannot
go intothemhere.
Later, speakingwith Horatio, Hamlet will explain that he
couldn'tstand to watch Laertes make such a spectacleof his
mourning. This bringsus to the heartof something thatwill open
up an entireproblematic.
Whatis the connection betweenmourning and the constitution
of the object in desire?Let's go at the questionby way of what
is mostobviousto us, whichwill perhapsseem the mostremote
fromthe centerof whatwe'reseekinghere.
Hamlet has acted scornfully and cruellytowardOphelia,and
thensome.I havealreadystressedthedemeaning and the
aggression
humiliationthathe constantly imposeson her,once shehas become
forhimthe verysymbolof the rejectionof his desire.Then,sud-
denly,the objectregainsits immediacy and its worthforhim:
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers

Could not with all their quantityof love
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
(Act V, Sc. I)
These are the termsin whichhe beginshis challengeto Laertes.

thatpresentsHamlet'sstructure
Here,too, is a characteristic in a
differentformand completesit: only insofaras the object of
Hamlet'sdesirehas become an impossibleobject can it become
once morethe objectof his desire.
In the desiresof obsessionalneuroticswe have alreadyencoun-
teredthe impossibleas objectof desire.But let's not be too easily
satisfied
withtheseoverlyobviousappearances.The verystructure
at the basis of desirealwayslends a note of impossibility to the
objectofhumandesire.Whatcharacterizes theobsessionalneurotic
in particularis that he emphasizesthe confrontation with this
impossibility.In otherwords,he sets everything up so that the
objectof his desirebecomesthe signifierof thisimpossibility.
But somethingeven deeper demands our attention.
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JacquesLacan
Freudianformulations have already taughtus to formulate

mourning in termsofan object-relationship.Indeed,is it notstriking
thatit was Freudwho firststressedthe object of mourning, after
all thoseyearsin whichpsychologists had lived and thought?
The object of mourning derivesits importance forus froma
certainidentification relationship that Freud attemptedto define
mostpreciselywiththe term"incorporation." Let's see if we can
rearticulate the identificationthattakesplace in mourning, in the
vocabularythatwe'velearnedto use in our workso far.
If we pursuethis route,armedwithour symbolicalapparatus,
we willgainperspectives on thefunction of mourning thatI believe
to be new and eminently suggestive, perspectivesto whichyou
wouldotherwise haveno access.The questionofwhatidentification
is mustbe elucidatedby those categorieswhichI have set forth
in theseseminarsover the years,i.e., the symbolic, the imaginary,
and the real.
What is the incorporation of the lost object? What does the
workofmourning consistin? We'releftup in theair,whichexplains
thesurceaseofall speculation alongthepaththatFreudnevertheless
opened up in "Mourningand Melancholia."The questionhasn't
beenposedproperly.
Let's stay withthe most obviousaspectsof the experienceof
mourning. The subjectwho descendsintothe maelstrom of sorrow
findshimselfin a certainrelationshipto the object which is
illustrated mostclearlyin the graveyard scene: Laertesleaps into
the graveand embracesthe object whoseloss is the cause of his
desire,an objectthathas attainedan existencethatis all themore
absolutebecause it no longercorresponds to anythingin reality.
The one unbearabledimension of possiblehumanexperience is not
the experienceof one's own death,whichno one has, but the
experienceof the deathof another.
Whereis the gap,the hole thatresultsfromthisloss and that
calls forthmourning on the partof the subject?It is a hole in the
real,by meansof whichthe subjectentersinto a relationship that
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is the inverseof what I have set forthin earlierseminarsunder

the nameof Verwerfung [repudiation, foreclosure].
Justas what is rejectedfromthe symbolicregisterreappears
in the real,in the same way the hole in the real thatresultsfrom
loss, sets the signifierin motion.This hole providesthe place for
the projectionof the missingsignifier, whichis essentialto the
structure of the Other.This is the signifier whose absenceleaves
the Otherincapableof responding to yourquestion,the signifier
thatcan be purchasedonlywithyourownfleshandyourownblood,
the signifierthatis essentially the veiledphallus.
It is therethat this signifier findsits place. Yet at the same
timeit cannotfindit, forit can be articulatedonlyat the level
of the Other.It is at thispointthat,as in psychosis-thisis where
mourning and psychosisare related-thatswarmsof images,from
whichthe phenomenaof mourning arise,assumethe place of the
phallus: not onlythephenomena in whicheach individualinstance
of madnessmanifests itself,but also thosewhichattestto one or
anotherof the mostremarkable collectivemadnessesof the com-
munityof men,one exampleof whichis broughtto the forein
Hamlet,i.e.,the ghost,thatimagewhichcan catchthe soul of one
and all unawareswhensomeone'sdeparturefromthislifehas not
been accompaniedby the ritesthatit calls for.
What are theserites,really,by whichwe fulfillour obligation
to whatis called the memoryof the dead-if not the total mass
intervention, fromthe heightsof heavento the depthsof hell,of
the entireplay of the symbolicregister.[....]
Indeed,thereis nothingof significance thatcan fillthathole
in thereal,exceptthetotalityofthe signifier.The workof mourn-
ing is accomplishedat the level of the logos: I say logos rather
than groupor community, althoughgroupand community, being
organizedculturally,are its mainstays. The workof mourning is
firstof all performed to satisfythe disorderthat is producedby
the inadequacyof signifying elementsto cope withthe hole that
has been createdin existence,forit is the systemof signifiersin
theirtotalitywhichis impeachedby theleastinstanceofmourning.
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JacquesLacan
This explainsthe beliefwe findin folklorein the veryclose

associationof the lack, skipping,or refusalof somethingin the
satisfaction of thedead,withthe appearanceof ghostsand specters
in the gap leftby the omissionof the significant rite.
Here we see a new dimensionin the tragedyof Hamlet:it is a
tragedyof the underworld. The ghostarises froman inexpiable
offense. Fromthisperspective, Opheliaappearsas a victimoffered
in expiationof that primordialoffense.The same holds for the
murderof Poloniusand the ridiculousdragging aroundof his body
by thefeet.
Hamletthensuddenlycuts loose and mockseveryone, propos-
ing a seriesof riddlesin particularly bad taste whichculminates
in the expression"Hide fox,and all after,"a reference to a sortof
game of hide-and-seek. Hamlet'shidingof this body in defiance
of the concernedfeelingsof everyonearound him,is here just
anothermockeryof that whichis of centralimportance:insuf-
ficientmourning.
Next timewe shall have to spell out the connectionbetween
the fantasyand somethingthat seems paradoxicallydistantfrom
it, i.e.,the object-relationship,
at least insofaras mourning permits
us to shed some lighton thisconnection. The ins and outs of the
play Hamletwill enable us to get a bettergraspof the economy
-very closelyconnectedhere-of the real,the imaginary, and the
symbolic.[....]
(22 April 1959)
Phallophany
The tragedyHamletis the tragedyof desire.But as we come

to the end of our trajectory it is timeto noticewhat one always
takes note of last, i.e., whatis mostobvious.I know of no com-
mentatorwho has ever taken the troubleto make this remark,
howeverhardit is to overlookonce it has been formulated:from
one end ofHamletto theother,all anyonetalksaboutis mourning.
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Yale FrenchStudies
Mourningis what makesthe marriageof Hamlet'smotherso

scandalous.In her eagernessto know the cause of her beloved
son's "distemper," she herselfsays: "I doubt it is no otherbut
the main,/His father'sdeath and our o'erhastymarriage."And
there'sno need to remindyou of what Hamlet says about the
leftoversfrom"the funeralbaked meats"turning up on "the mar-
riagetables": "Thrift, thrift,
Horatio."
This termis a fittingreminderthat in the accommodations
workedout by modernsocietybetweenuse values and exchange
values thereis perhapssomething thathas been overlookedin the
Marxiananalysisof economy,the dominantone for the thought
of our time-something whose forceand extentwe feel at every
moment:ritualvalues. Even thoughwe note themconstantly in
our experience,it maybe usefulto givethemspecialconsideration
here as essentialfactorsin humaneconomy.
I have alreadyalluded to the functionof ritualin mourning.
Ritual introducessome mediationof the gap [beance]openedup
by mourning. More precisely,ritualoperatesin such a way as
to make this gap coincidewiththatgreaterbeance,the pointx,
the symboliclack. The navelof the dream,to whichFreud refers
at one point,is perhapsnothingbut the psychological counterpart
of thislack.
Nor can we failto be struckby thefactthatin all theinstances
of mourning in Hamlet,one elementis alwayspresent:the rites
have been cut shortand performed in secret.
For political reasons, Polonius is buried secretly,without
ceremony,posthaste.And you rememberthe whole businessof
Ophelia'sburial.Thereis the discussionof how it is thatOphelia,
havingmostprobablycommitted suicide-thisis at least the com-
mon belief-stillis buriedon Christianground.The gravediggers
haveno doubtthatifshe had notbeenof suchhighsocialstanding
she wouldhave been treateddifferently. Nor is the priestin favor
of givingher Christianburial("She shouldin groundunsanctified
have lodged/Tillthe last trumpet.For charitableprayers,/ Shards,
flints,and pebblesshouldbe thrownon her" [Act V, Sc. I]), and
40

JacquesLacan
the ritesto whichhe has consentedare themselvesabbreviated.

We cannotfailto take all thesethingsintoaccount,and there
are manyothersas well.
The ghostof Hamlet'sfatherhas an inexpiablegrievance.He
was,he says,eternally wronged, havingbeen takenunawares-and
this is not one of the lessermysteriesas to the meaningof this
tragedy-"inthe blossomsof [his] sin." He had no time before
his death to summonup the composureor whateverthatwould
have preparedhimto go beforethe throneof judgment.
Here we have a numberof "clues," as theysay in English,
which convergein a most significant way-and where do they
point?To the relationship of the dramaof desireto mourningand
its demands.
This is the pointthat I would like to focuson today,in an
attemptto delve into the questionof the object such as we en-
counterit in psychoanalysis-the objectof desire.
There is firstof all a simplerelationshipthatthe subjecthas

to the object of desire,a relationship that I have expressedin
termsof an appointment. But you will not have failedto notice
that we are approaching the questionof the object fromquite a
differentangle whenwe speak of the object such as the subject
identifies
himselfwithit in mourning-thesubject,it is said, can
reintegratethe object intohis ego. What does thatmean? Aren't
we dealingherewithtwophaseswhichare notreconciled in psycho-
analytictheory?Doesn'tthiscall foran attemptto get deeperinto
the problem?
What I have just said about mourningin Hamlet must not
obscurethe factthatat the bottomof this mourning, in Hamlet
as in Oedipus, thereis a crime.Up to a certainpoint,the whole
rapid succession,one instanceof mourning afteranother,can be
seen as consequencesof the initialcrime.It is in this sense that
Hamlet is an Oedipal drama,one that we can read as a second
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OedipusRex and locateat thesamefunctional levelin thegenealogy

oftragedy.This is also whatputFreud,and his disciplesafterhim,
onto the importance of Hamlet.
Indeed,the psychoanalytic traditionsees in Oedipus'crimethe
quintessentialchartingof the relationship of the subjectto what
we call herethe Other,i.e., to the locus of the inscription of the
law. This same traditionplaces Hamletat the centerof its con-
siderationof theproblemof origins.This is a good pointat which
to recall certainessentialdetailsof how the relationship of the
subjectto theoriginalcrimehas beenarticulated forus up tillnow.
Insteadof takingthe usual courseof leavingthingsin a state
of fuzzyconfusion, whichdoesn'tmaketheoretical speculationany
easier,we mustmake distinctions. Thereare two stages.
The firstis that of the crime,perfectly illustratedby Totem
and Taboo,whichdeservesto be calledtheFreudianmyth.We can
even say thatFreud'sconstruction maywell be the sole example
of a full-fledgedmythto have emergedin our historicalage. This
mythshowsus an essentialconnection:the orderof the law can
be conceivedonlyon the basis of something moreprimordial, a
crime.This is also the meaningforFreudof the Oedipalmyth.
For Freud,the primalmurderof the fatherformsthe ultimate
horizonof the problemof origins.Note, too, thathe findsit rel-
evant for everypsychoanalytic issue, and he neverconsidersa
discussioncloseduntilit is broughtin. This primalpatricide, which
he placesat theoriginof thehordeand at theoriginof the Judaic
tradition,clearlyhas a mythiccharacter.
The connectionbetweenthe law and the crimeis one thing.
Anotheris what developsfromthis connectionwhen the tragic
hero-both Oedipusand each one of us potentially at some point
of our being,whenwe repeatthe Oedipaldrama-renewsthe law
on the level of tragedy, and, in a sort of baptism,guaranteesits
rebirth.This is the secondstage.
The tragedyof Oedipussatisfiesperfectly the definition I have
just givenof mythas ritualreproduction. Oedipus, who is actually
completely innocent,unconsciousand unaware,manageswithout
42

JacquesLacan
realizingit-in a sortof dreamthatis his life(lifeis a dream)-to

renewthechannelsof accessfromcrimeto therestoration oforder.
He takes on the punishment himselfand at the end seemsto us
to be castrated.
This is the elementthatremainshiddenifwe restrict ourselves
to the firststage,thatof the primalmurder.Indeed,the mostim-
portantthingis punishment, sanction,castration-thehiddenkey
to the humanization of sexuality,the key withwhichwe are ac-
customedby our experience to maketheaccidentsof theevolution
of desirefall into place.
It is not withoutinterestto take note of the dissymmetries
betweenthe tragedyof Oedipus and the tragedyof Hamlet.It
would be too elaboratean exerciseto list themin detail,but I
shall nevertheless giveyou a fewindications.
In Oedipus,thecrimetakesplace at thelevelof thehero'sown
generation;in Hamlet,it has alreadytakenplace at the level of
the precedinggeneration. In Oedipus,the hero,not knowingwhat
he's doing, in some way guidedby fate; in Hamlet,the crime
is
is carriedout deliberately.
The crimein Hamletis the resultof betrayal.Hamlet'sfather
is takenby surprisein his sleep,in a way thatis utterlyforeign
to the currentof his wakingthoughts."I was cut off,"he says,
"even in the blossomsof mysin." He is struckby a blow froma
sectorfromwhichhe does not expectit, a trueintrusionof the
real,a break in the threadof destiny.He dies, as Shakespeare's
texttellsus, on a bed of flowers, whichthe play-scene will go so
faras to reproducein the openingpantomime.
The suddenintrusionof the crimeis somehow,paradoxically,
compensated forby the factthatin this case the subjectknows.
This is not one of theless puzzlingaspectsof theplay.The drama
of Hamlet,unlikethat of Oedipus,does not startoffwiththe
question"What'sgoingon?," "Whereis the crime?,""Whereis
thecriminal?" It beginswiththedenunciation ofthecrime,withthe
it
crimeas is broughtto lightin the ear of the subject.We can
expressthe ambiguity of this revelationin the formused in our
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algebrafor the messageof the unconscious,i.e., the signifier of

barredA [S(*)].
In the normalform,if we can put it thatway,of the Oedipal
situation,the S(X) is embodiedby the Father,sincehe is the ex-
pected source of the sanctionfromthe locus of the Other,the
truthabout truth.The Fathermustbe the authorof the law, yet
he cannotvouchforit anymorethananyoneelse can,becausehe,
too, mustsubmitto thebar,whichmakeshim,insofaras he is the
real father,a castratedfather.
The situationat thebeginning ofHamletis completely different,
eventhoughit can be represented by thesamenotation.The Other
revealshimselffromthe beginningas the barred Other.He is
barrednot only fromthe worldof the livingbut also fromhis
just retribution.He has enteredthe kingdomof hell with this
crime,this debt thathe has not been able to pay, an inexpiable
debt,he says.And indeed,thisis forhis son the mostfrightening
implication of his revelation.
Oedipus paid. He represents the man whose heroiclot is to
carrytheburdenof requiteddebt.On thecontrary, Hamlet'sfather
mustcomplainforall eternity thathe was interrupted, takenby
surprise,cut off in midstream-thatto him the possibilityof
response,of retribution, is foreversealed off.
You see thatour investigation, as it movesalong,leads us to
ask questionsaboutretribution and punishment,i.e.,aboutwhatis
involvedin the signifier phallusin castration.
Freud himselfindicated,perhapsin a somewhatfinde siecle
way,thatforsome reasonwhenwe lived out the Oedipaldrama,
it was destinedto be in a warpedform,and there'ssurelyan echo
of thatin Hamlet.
Considerone of Hamlet'sfirstexclamations at the end of the
firstact: "The timeis out of joint.0 cursedspite/That ever I
was bornto set it right!""O cursed.. ."-the word"spite,"which
appearsthroughout Shakespeare'ssonnets,can onlybe translated
"depit,"grudge,vexation-"he did it out of purespite."But let's
be carefulhere.To understand theElizabethansone mustfirstturn
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JacquesLacan
certainwordsaroundon theirhingesso as to givethema meaning

somewhere betweenthesubjectiveone and theobjectiveone.Today
the word"spite"-as in "he did it out of purespite"- has a sub-
jectivemeaning,whereasin "O cursed spite" it's somewherein
between,betweenthe experienceof the subjectand the injustice
in the world.We seem to have lost the sense of thisreferenceto
the world order."O cursedspite" is what Hamletfeels spiteful
towardand also the way thatthe timeis injustto him.Perhaps
you recognizeherein passing,transcended by Shakespeare'svoca-
I
bulary,the delusionof the schoneSeele, fromwhichwe have not
escaped,far fromit, all our effortsnotwithstanding.When I re-
ferredto the sonnetsjust now,it was not purelygratuitous.So-I
translate: "O malediction,que je ne sois ne jamais pour le remettre
droit."
This justifiesand deepensour understanding
of Hamletas pos-
sibly illustratinga decadentformof the Oedipal situation,its
decline.This is the same wordthatwe findin Freud'sexpression,
der Untergangdes ddipus-Komplexes,the decline or dissolutionof
the Oedipuscomplex-inthelifeofeach individual, he means.This
is the titlehe givesto one of his texts,not a long one,whichI'd
like to bringto yourattentionnow. You'll findit in VolumeXII
of the GesammelteWerke [StandardEdition, XIX, 173-79].
Thus in 1924Freudhimself calls attention

to whatis ultimately
thepuzzleof the Oedipuscomplex.It's not simplythatthesubject
wanted,desiredto kill his fatherand to violatehis mother,but
thatthatis in the unconscious.
4 Allusion to Hegel's dialectic of the withdrawn, contemplative

"beautifulsoul" (Phenomenologyof Mind, tr. Baillie [New York: Harper
& Row, 1967], pp. 663-67, 675-76, 795), generally considered itself an
allusion in turn to a variety of eighteenth-and early nineteenth-century
writers,primarilyin Germany.In several other contexts,Lacan links this
dialectic to others in the Phenomenology("master-slave,""law of the
heart") and stressesthat the beautifulsoul denouncesthe perceiveddisorder
of the world around him withoutrecognizingthat this disorderis a reflec-
tion of his own inner state. See rcrits,pp. 171-73,281, 292, 415.-Tr.
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How does that come to be in the unconscious?How does it

cometo residethereso thatthesubject,duringan important period
of his life,the latencyperiod,whichis the sourceof the construc-
tion of his entireworld,is no longerconcernedby the Oedipal
situationat all-to suchan extentthatFreudcouldadmit,at least
at thebeginning of his treatmentof theissue,thatin an ideal case
thislack of concernis a happy,definitive resolutionof the whole
business?
Let's beginwithwhatFreudtellsus; thenwe'llsee whether it's
gristforour mill.
When does the Oedipuscomplex,accordingto Freud,go into
its Untergang,thatdecisiveeventforall ofthesubject'ssubsequent
development? Whenthe subjectfeelsthe threatof castration, and
feels it fromboth directionsimpliedby the Oedipal triangle.If
he wantsto take his mother'splace, the same thingwill happen
-rememberthathe is awareof the factthatwomanis castrated,
thisperception marking thecompletion and maturityoftheOedipus
complex.Thus, withregardto the phallus,the subjectis caught
in an impossibledilemmawithno avenueof escape.
Thus thephallusis thisthingthatis presented by Freudas the
key to the Untergangof the Oedipuscomplex.I say "thing"and
not "object,"because it is a real thing,one thathas not yetbeen
made a symbol,but thathas the potentialof becomingone.
Freud's presentation of the problemputs the femalechild in
a situationthatis not at all dissymmetrical withthatof the male.
With respectto this thing,the subjectentersinto a relationship
thatwe may call one of lassitude-theword is in Freud'stext-
wheregratification is concerned.As forthe boy,he decideshe's
just not up to it. And as forthegirl,she givesup anyexpectation
of gratification in this way-the renunciation is expressedeven
moreclearlyin her case thanin his. All we can say is expressed
in a formulation thatdoesn'tcome out in Freud'stextbut whose
pertinence is everywhere indicated:theOedipuscomplexgoes into
its declineinsofaras the subjectmustmournthe phallus.
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JacquesLacan
This servesto illuminatethe laterfunctionof thismomentof

desire.The scrapsand fragments of the Oedipuscomplex,moreor
less incompletely repressed,emergein pubertyin the formof
neuroticsymptoms. But that'snot all. It is thecommonexperience
of analyststhatthe genitalnormalization of the subject,5 not only
in the economyof his unconsciousbut also in the economyof his
imaginary register,
dependson thedeclineof theOedipuscomplex.
If theprocessofgenitalmaturation is to turnout well,theOedipus
complexmust be terminated as completelyas possible,for the
consequenceof thiscomplexin bothman and womanis the scar,
the emotionalstigma,of the castrationcomplex.We maybe able
to shedsomelighton thedeclineoftheOedipuscomplexas mourn-
ing for the phallusif we referto what Freud's writingstell us
aboutthe mechanism of mourning. There'sa synthesis to be made
here.
What definesthe limitsof the objectsforwhichwe mayhave
to mourn?This,too,has notbeenworkedoutyet.We can certainly
imaginethatthephallusis notjust one moreobjectto be mourned
like all the others.Here,as everywhere else, it has a place of its
own,a place apart.This place is whatwe wantto determine, to
determine againsta background. Thentheplace of thebackground
itselfwill becomeapparentas a result.
Here we're on completelynew ground,wherewe encounter
whatI call the questionof the place of the objectin desire.This
is the questionthat I have been exploring[que je laboure]with
youbymeansofa seriesofconcentric strokes;I putvariousstresses
on it to give it variousresonances,and our analysisof Hamlet
shouldhelp us to pursueit further.
What gives the phallusits particularvalue? Freud replies,as
always,withoutthe slightestprecaution-hebowls us over, and
thankGod he did it till the day he died,forotherwisehe never
could havefinished whathe stillhad to lay out [tracer]in his field
5 See the article "Stade (ou Organisation)gdnital(e)"in JeanLaplanche

and J.-B.Pontalis, Vocabulaire de la psychanalyse(Paris: Presses Univer-
sitairesde France, 1967).-Tr.
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of work-Freud repliesthat it's a narcissisticdemand[exigence]

madeby the subject.
At the momentof the finaloutcomeof his Oedipal demands,
the subject,seeinghimselfcastratedin any case, deprivedof the
thing,prefers, as it were,to abandona partof himself, whichwill
henceforth be foreverforbiddento him,formingthe punctuated
chainof signifiers thatformsthe top of our diagram.If the love
relationship that is caughtup in the parentaldialecticrecedes,if
the subjectpermitsthe Oedipal relationship to founder,it is be-
cause-says Freud-of thephallus,ofthatphallusthatis introduced
so enigmatically fromthebeginning ofthe narcissistic stageon.
Whatdoes thatmeanto us, in termsof our vocabulary?
There'sno pointin referringback to all ofthisunlessit permits
us to shed some lighton what Freud mustleave out. He leaves
it out because he needs to get to the heart of the matterand
doesn'thave timeto dwell on his assumptions. This is moreover
the way thatall action,generallyspeaking,is founded,especially
all trueaction,whichthe actionthatconcernsus hereshouldbe.
Well, in termsof our discourse,"narcissistic"has something
to do withthe imaginary register.Let's startby sayingthat the
subjectmustexplore[fairele tourde] his relationship to the field
of the Other,i.e., the fieldorganizedin the symbolicregister, in
whichhis demandforlove has begunto expressitself.It is when
he emergesfromthisexploration, havingcarriedit to theend,that
the loss of the phallusoccursforhimand is feltas such,a radical
loss. How does he respondthento the necessity[exigence]of this
mourning? Preciselywiththecomposition of his imaginary register
and withnothingelse-a phenomenon whose similarity to a psy-
chotic mechanismI have already indicated. [....]
The positionof the phallusis alwaysveiled. It appearsonly
in suddenmanifestations [dans des phanies],in a flash,by means
ofits reflection
on theleveloftheobject.For thesubject,ofcourse,
it's a questionof to have it or not to have it. But the radical
positionof the subjectat the level of privation,
of the subjectas
48

JacquesLacan
subjectof desire,is not to be it. The subjectis himself,so to

speak,a negativeobject.
We can say thatthe formsin whichthe subjectappearsat the
levels of castration,of frustration,and of privation, are formsof
alienation,but we mustprovideforeach of the threea charac-
terizationthatdistinguishes it perceptibly fromthe others.At the
level of castration,the subjectappearsin a blackout[syncope]of
thesignifier.It's somethingelse whenhe appearsat thelevelof the
Other,in a stateof submission to thelaw ofone and all. It's some-
thingelse again whenhe himselfmustsituatehimselfin desire.
The formofhis disappearance has in thiscase a singularoriginality,
well suitedto promptus to formulate it further on.
This is indeedthe directionin whichthecourseof thetragedy
Hamletis takingus.
Indeed,the "something rotten"withwhichpoorHamletis con-

frontedis mostcloselyconnectedwiththe positionof the subject
withregardto the phallus.And the phallusis everywhere present
in the disorderin whichwe findHamleteach timehe approaches
one of the crucialmomentsof his action.
There'ssomething verystrangein thewayHamletspeaksabout
his dead father,an exaltationand idealizationof his dead father
whichcomes down to something like this: Hamlethas no voice
withwhichto say whateverhe mayhave to say about him. He
actuallychokesup and finally concludesby saying-ina particular
formof the signifier thatis called "pregnant" in English,referring
to something thathas a meaningbeyondits meaning-thathe can
findnothing to say abouthis fatherexceptthathe was likeanyone
else. What he means is veryobviouslythe opposite.This is the
firstindication,the firsttrace,of whatI wantto talk about here.
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Anothertraceis thatthe rejection,deprecation, contempt that

he casts on Claudius has everyappearanceof dinegation.6The
torrentof insultsthathe unleasheson Claudius-in the presence
of his mother, namely-culminates in the phrase"a kingof shreds
and patches."We surelycannotfailto relatethisto the factthat,
in thetragedyof Hamlet,unlikethatof Oedipus,afterthe murder
of the father,the phallusis stillthere.It's thereindeed,and it is
preciselyClaudiuswho is calleduponto embodyit.
Claudius'realphallusis alwayssomewhere in thepicture.What
does Hamlethave to reproachhis motherfor,afterall, if not for
havingfilledherselfwithit? And withdejectedarm and speech
he sends her back to thatfatal,fatefulobject,here real indeed,
aroundwhichthe playrevolves.-
For this woman-who doesn't seem to us so verydifferent
fromotherwomen,and who showsconsiderable humanfeelings-
theremustbe something verystrongthatattachesherto herpart-
ner. And doesn't it seem that that is the point aroundwhich
Hamlet'sactionturnsand lingers?His astoundedspirit,so to speak,
tremblesbeforesomething thatis utterlyunexpected:the phallus
is locatedhere in a positionthatis entirely out of place in terms
of its positionin the Oedipus complex. Here, the phallusto be
struckat is realindeed.And Hamletalwaysstops.The verysource
ofwhatmakesHamlet'sarmwaverat everymoment, is thenarcis-
sisticconnection thatFreudtellsus aboutin his texton thedecline
of the Oedipuscomplex: one cannotstrikethe phallus,because
thephallus,eventhereal phallus,is a ghost.
We were troubledat the timeby the questionof why,after
all,no one assassinatedHitler-Hitler,whois verymuchthisobject
that is not like the others,this object x whose functionin the
homogenization of the crowd by means of identification is de-
6 Lacan's translationof Freud's term Verneinung,usually translatedin

Englishas "negation."Its use here suggeststhat Hamlet's hostilereferences
to Claudius can be interpretedas indicationsof repressedadmiration.See
Freud's 1925 essay, "Negation" (Standard Edition, XIX, 235-39), and the
correspondingarticle in Laplanche and Pontalis.-Tr.
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JacquesLacan
monstrated by Freud. Doesn't this lead back to what we're dis-

cussinghere?
The questionat hand is the enigmaticmanifestation of the
signifierof power,of potency:the Oedipal situation,whenit ap-
pearsin the particularly strikingformin the real thatwe have in
Hamlet,withthe criminal,the usurper,in place and functioning
as usurper.WhatstaysHamlet'sarm?It's notfear-he has nothing
but contemptfor the guy-it's because he knowsthat he must
strikesomethingotherthan what's there.Indeed, two minutes
later,whenhe arrivesat his mother'schamberand is beginning
to giveher all holyhell,he hearsa noisebehindthe curtain,and
he lungesout withoutlookingfirst.
I don't recallnow what astutecommentator pointedout that
Hamletcannotpossiblybelievethatit's Claudius,becausehe's just
lefthimin thenextroom.Nevertheless, whenhe has disemboweled
poor Polonius, he remarks: "Thou wretched,rash, intruding
fool..../ I took thee for thy better."Everyonethinksthat he
meantto kill the king,but in the presenceof Claudius,the real
kingand theusurperas well,he did afterall holdback: he wanted
something or someonebetter,wantedto cut him off,too, in the
blossomsof his sin. Claudius,as he knelttherebeforehim,wasn't
quite what Hamletwas after-he wasn'tthe rightone.
It's a questionof the phallus,and that'swhyhe will neverbe
able to strikeit,untilthemomentwhenhe has madethe complete
sacrifice-without wantingto, moreover-ofall narcissistic attach-
ments,i.e.,whenhe is mortally woundedand knowsit. The thing
is strangeand obvious,recordedin all sorts of littleriddlesin
Hamlet'sstyle.
Poloniusforhim is merelya "calf,"one thathe has in some
sense sacrificedto the spiritof his father.Whenhe's stashedhim
underthe stairsand everyoneasks him what'sgoingon, he goes
intoa fewof his jokes,whichare alwaysso disconcerting forhis
adversaries.Everyonewonderswhether whathe says is reallywhat
he means,becausewhatsaysgetsthemall wherethey'rethetouch-
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iest.But forhimto say it,he mustknowso muchthattheycan't

believeit, and so on and so forth.
This is a positionthat mustbe quite familiarto us fromthe
phenomenon of the avowalmade by the subject.He speaks these
wordswhichup till now have remainedas good as sealed to the
commentators: "The body is withthe king"-he doesn'tuse the
word"corpse,"pleasenotice-"butthekingis notwiththebody."
Replacethe word "king"withthe word"phallus,"and you'llsee
thatthat'sexactlythepoint-thebodyis boundup [engage] in this
matterof the phallus-and how-but the phallus,on the contrary,
is boundto nothing:it alwaysslipsthrough yourfingers.[....]
Hamlet: The king is a thing-

Guildenstern: A thing, my lord?
Hamlet: Of nothing.
(29 April 1959)
Frenchtexteditedby Jacques-Alain
Miller,
fromtranscriptsof Lacan's Seminar.
Translatedby JamesHulbert.
52


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Jacques Lacan - Desire and The Interpretation of Desire in Hamlet

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Desire and the Interpretation of Desire in Hamlet

Author(s): Jacques Lacan, Jacques-Alain Miller and James Hulbert

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The Object Ophelia

As a sortof come-on,I announcedthatI wouldspeaktodayabout

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the trapthat Hamletdoesn'tfall into,firstbecause he's warned

Our firststep in this directionwas to expressthe extentto

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an objectto be enjoyed[objet d'une jouissance] in what is truly

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The end-term thatbuttresses thismodelof the subjectand his

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For now, let us consideronly how the momentin which

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on the strictlyimaginary term,a. In parentheses withit we also

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This is what permitsus to specifythe factorthat most pro-

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tenance and programof his deed. Hamlet stands before this

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stakes-all preciousobjects,swords,fittings, and otherthingsthat

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heroes-in tragedy,I say, not in legends-no heroes who feign

Thus we arriveat the pointat whichOpheliamustfulfillher

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that'sbecause he's not happy,and if he's not happy,it's because

My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,

He took me by the wristand held me hard.

And Poloniuscriesout: This is love!

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excessiveto designatethismomentas pathological, relatedto those

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to everysin, a future"breederof sinners,"destinedto succumb

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rushingto his fate.The wholesceneis directedtowardthatfurious

(15 April 1959)

Desire and Mourning

Thus,forHamlet,the appointment is alwaystoo early,and he

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I wantedto open your eyes to one structuraltrait that is

2 This often repeated Lacanian formulahelps to distinguishthe Other

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forhimself, an object-a choicethatalwayshas something "arbi-

How all occasions do informagainst me

-the expressionthatis glossed"reason"is "largediscourse,"fun-

... such large discourse,

... gave us not

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... or some craven scruple

Such is Hamlet'smeditationon the object of humanaction.

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the Other,thisis not something thatis actuallyopento investiga-

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but preciselyto what is called an imaginary number.The square

Let's startwiththe ending,the meetingplace,the hourof the

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