| PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION 1997 |
Taming the Labile Other:
Megan Boler
Disciplined Emotions in Popular and Academic Discourses
University of Auckland, New Zealand
INTRODUCTION A recent Calvin and Hobbes cartoon depicts a challenge faced by educators interested in changing entrenched habits of ignorance. In the first frame, Calvin hands a book back to his mother and says, "I read this library book you got me." She responds, "What did you think of it?" Scratching his head, he answers "It really made me see things differently. It's given me a lot to think about." In the last frame, Calvin's mother says "I'm glad you enjoyed it" and Calvin, walking away, says "It's complicating my life. Don't get me any more."
Calvin's refusal can be understood as having various possible causes: he may simply not like books or not like to think. Let me assume his is a more complex refusal - a refusal to be disturbed, a defense against disruption. Indeed, he states that the book his mother loaned to him "gave him a lot to think about" and that it "complicated" his life, and that he does not wish for his life to complicated. From a political perspective, say in Freirean terms, we should not be surprised: Calvin, apparently a young white boy growing up in an upper-middle class suburban home, appreciates his comfortable status quo and is quite content with his paradigm.
Yet it is not only those with privilege who refuse to shift their paradigm. Freire also suggested that the marginalized class operates with a fear of freedom which can account for refusals to explore new ways of thinking. An example of this might be a woman in one of my courses who I shall call Calvin's Sister, a young, married female schoolteacher who is marginalized by gender but lives and teaches in an upper-class neighborhood. During our discussions of feminism in third-year course she proclaimed, "I never thought of myself as female. It has never held me back in any way. Maybe that's because we've come such a long way since our mothers' time." Given that we live in a culture powerfully defined in terms of gender, her refusal to identify as female is remarkable, and has complex and multi-layered meanings. On the one hand, her refusal may represent her savvy resistance to identifying as a "victim." Yet it also reflects her acceptance of the dominant ideological myth that equal opportunity for women has been achieved. Combined with her ignorance of the misogynistic backlash to feminism, she is able to refuse the identity "woman" as extraneous. At the same time, she may be partially right: her own class privilege may permit her benefits that resemble the liberal dream. Yet one can ask as well: why is she one of the disproportionate number of female schoolteachers, and not a well-paid school administrator or government politician?
Both Calvin's and his Sister's refusals have an emotional or affective dimension. Think for example of an experience of cognitive dissonance and the accompanying emotional discomfort - almost an ache in the head or a visceral pulling sensation. When new information is introduced that suggests a radical alternative to our accepted and/or common-sense ways of thinking and being, how do we react? Refusal is certainly one possible reaction. We do not always recognize the reasons for our resistance. We are not necessarily taught the language to identify and name these affective dimensions of our disturbances.
Some educators may respond to refusal by throwing their hands in the air and saying, "Let Calvin and his sister believe what they like!" However, I am using the concept of refusal only as a way into a much broader argument: namely, that we need an account of the affective dimensions of education that goes beyond rationalistic paradigms. We need only think of the countless instances of affect in the classroom that we rarely acknowledge explicitly: the heated debates and loaded silences in discussion of controversial texts; the dynamics of "success" and failure" evoked when we hand back student essays; the shuffling of boredom, curiosity, confusion during a lecture. These unspoken emotions and affects shape our sense of interest and passion in the educational process.
Historically there are three interrelated levels of discussion of affect. First, there are rationalistic paradigms. By "rationalistic" I mean those accounts that do any of the following: (a) neglect or devalue emotion entirely; (b) explain emotions as purely biological phenomenon over which we have no control; (c) allow a place for emotion by reconceiving of them as tied to cognitive beliefs. Second, there is the linguistic level - for example, questions about which emotions are articulated and/or explicitly addressed; and the ways in which emotion colors our linguistic utterances. Third, there is the subjective/idiosyncratic level. This level recognizes the age-old phenomenon that emotions often defy language altogether. Very often, we cannot find words to describe our affective experience; or we will only find words to describe our emotional experience in retrospect.
These three ways of talking about emotion are interrelated. For example, we might say that any linguistic utterance is necessarily rational due to its association with a symbolic system. Whether or not we conceive of language as necessarily rational is a larger debate. What we can say is that historically, within educational studies, linguistic utterances related to emotion have been reduced by rationalistic views and tied to cognitive beliefs or biological discourses. In a related move, emotions are often considered to exceed language or rationality, and are then assigned to irrationality or to the unconscious.
I am arguing alternatively for an "expressivist" theory of emotion. By expressivist I refer not only linguistic but to corporeal and visceral affective expressions. In an expressivist theory affects are understood as present on the surface of our bodies and in our encounters with one another. In the many instances where affects are not articulated, we can analyze the inscribed habits of inattention that interfere with their expression. Finally, while I am advocating that we develop sophisticated forms of emotional literacy and awareness, I am not arguing that we should put all emotions and affects into words. I am arguing that educational studies needs theories and practices that take account of (1) the affective dimensions of our speech; (2) the affective intensities and expressions of our bodies - gesture, rhythm, movement.
To summarize today's inquiry: Calvin's refusal to be disturbed by books that "make him think differently," and Calvin's sister's refusal to think of herself as female represent some of many educational moments that cannot be explained solely through existing theories which privilege rational explanation and language. What might pedagogies look like that take the complex affective dimension seriously? To what theories can educators turn to understand subjective phenomenon like refusal and the complexity of the affective dimension?
In this essay I examine three major schools of thought which influence education's attempts to account for affect. My review of these strands of theory must be brief, and I explore these areas in greater detail elsewhere.[1] Essentially I argue that the theoretical models we're developing privilege models of emotion in which the dominant discourses of rationality, biology, and pathology limit the transgressive possibilities of affect. I will then turn to theoretical and philosophical accounts which hold promise for shaping what I shall call "economies of mind."[2] Throughout my comments today I hope to inject a note of urgency in my call for new theory, an urgency brought on by the sudden emergence of the "emotional literacy" curriculum which I will discuss momentarily.
I turn now to a review of three major incluences: psychoanalysis, educational psychology, and social contructionist models of affect.
PSYCHOANALYSIS Why bother with psychoanalysis? The psychoanalytic model of subjectivity continues to influence the language and thinking in many educational theories.[3] The "unconscious" and "desire" are terms found throughout feminist, progressive studies, and throughout critical and poststructural accounts. But within educational studies, the concepts of the "unconscious" and "desire" are used as umbrella terms for all behavior that cannot be explained within cognitive terms. Further, the unconscious is understood as an individualized phenomenon: your unconscious is idiosyncratically yours and yours alone. We are left without an adequate account of the culturally specific histories of particular emotions.[4]
The fairly "empty" categories of desire and the unconscious reflect in part Freud's own uncertainties with respect to explaining emotions. In Civilization and Its Discontents, Freud's nod to the role of culture in shaping power relations, he lays his cards on the table. He admits that "it is not easy to deal scientifically with feelings,"[5] and confirms that feelings per se are not the subject of his science. One can attempt to explain them in two ways, he says: through physiological description (by which he refers to the theories of William James and Charles Darwin); or, through an about-face turn to rationality, to the ideational content: the language we have which we associate with the feeling. Although we remain indebted to Freud for introducing the revolutionary concept of the unconscious and making space for the "irrational," Freudian psychoanalysis relies on dominant narratives of rationality or biology in its limited explanation of emotions in the social sphere. Emotions in Freud's model are either expressed consciously, or if considered inappropriate they are shunted into the unconscious where we lose awareness of them.
Another utilitarian shortcoming is raised by psychoanalytic theorist Julia Kristeva: even if we employ the unconscious to broaden pedagogical strategies, we require many more educators and extensive training in order to integrate psychoanalysis into educational practices.[6]
SOCIAL SCIENTIFIC MODELS Freud's impact would not be felt in the United States until the 1950s. In the 1930s, simultaneous with the publication of Civilization and Its Discontents, U.S. social scientists shared with psychoanalysts a concern about how and where to channel the growing anxieties experienced by the modern and civilized subject. Influenced by Darwin and John Dewey, educational psychologists analyzed the relation between industrialization and immigration, and the modern anxieties and stresses that threatened the smooth administration of large school populations. In a highly unique but short-lived period educators explicitly addressed the "emotional student." In the text Emotions and the Educative Process, first published in 1938 and reprinted ten times before 1961, administrators identified the overly emotional, "labile" student as a problem for educational curricula and pedagogies. "Labile" is defined by the OED in five central ways: (1) liable; prone to lapse. (2) liable to fall from innocence into error or sin. (3) slippery, unstable. (4) prone to undergo displacement. In its fifth definition, in reference to woodworking - as in a "labile construction material," it resonates with John Dewey's description of mutable subjectivity as "plasticity." These meanings contradictorily suggest both a passive material that can be shaped, and tendencies to "lapse or degenerate" as a result of physiological, social, or internal factors.
The authors recognize that a central motive for "disciplining" emotion is to balance discrepancies between desires produced within capitalism, on the one hand, and the "reality" of unfulfilled needs that cause "frustration," maladjustment, and conflict. This book articulates a rule of industrial capitalism, namely, that the school should not set up expectations that will not be fulfilled within the society.
the existence of conditions which drive large blocks of the population to hold attitudes too sharply antagonistic...can only cause conflict, lowered efficiency, and ultimate disintegration in a society...Not only is affect important in connection with the formation of attitudes, but attitudes themselves are important sources of affect when the behavior they imply is obstructed or penalized. If certain factors in society such as the school, advertising, or the teachings of the church develop attitudes favorable to types of behavior made impossible by prevailing social conditions, then tension, disappointment, and feelings or frustration are inevitable. Either the attitudes must be replaced, or social changes must come about, or the individual must compartmentalize his thinking and submit to permanent dissociation due to the lack of harmony between his beliefs and his actions[7] (italics mine).Surprisingly, the authors of this text do not blame the labile student for his over emotionality; in fact, they recognize that social influences cause "over emotionality." Social and economic revolution was not an option advocated by social scientists or school administrators. The next solution - "to replace attitudes" which are in conflict with existing social structures - reveals a rationalist emphasis. Attitudes, like beliefs, are much more easily explained within rationalist terms than emotions, and lend themselves to social control. The third effect of unchecked lability is that the individual will suffer "permanent dissociation due to lack of harmony between his beliefs and actions." We find here the combination of "pathological" discourse and Deweyan influence: the concept of "dissociation" and the ideal of an achieved "harmony" within the self.
In the years following WW2, these rational and pathological discourses of emotion work together to shift blame onto the individual. Social science shifted attention from unpredictable lability to measuring individual's attitudes. The individual is increasingly conceived of as an organism whose natural needs and drives must be minimally satisfied in order to avoid lability and social conflict. Contemporary cognitive science reflects sophisticated variations of these two discourses of rationality and biology.
SOCIAL CONSTRUCTIONIST THEORIES In the 1970s and 1980s, the rational framework of the "social construction" of emotions began strongly to upstage biological explanations. The rise of social constructionism was influenced in part by the emergence of "conceptual" theories of emotion in the analytic tradition of philosophy, and by feminist anthropology and sociology. In these models (still widely embraced), emotions are seen as rational: if I am angry at Jack for borrowing my car without permission, my anger is based on the belief that Jack has borrowed my car. The emotion is correct and appropriate given the belief, however erroneous the belief. Social constructionism grants emotions epistemic validity through their association with rationality. The fundamental binary of rationality/irrationality remains intact.
Another problem with social constructionism is that, similar to a biologistic account, we lose an account of human agency. Similar to Marx's economic determinism, social constructionist models conceive of the subject as acting out the externally determined effects of culture. In Marx's rationalist account of ideology and false consciousness, human subjectivity is reduced to an oversimplified or one-dimensional account of human consciousness as easily duped by ideology: without one's consciousness being transformed by a version of rational enlightenment, one is a pawn of irrational false ideology.
In sum, educational theories tend to subscribe to variations of these schools of thought which are dominated by rational and/or biological accounts of emotion. In some sense what we lack is a Marxist account of emotion. Certainly, the work of theorists like Althusser, combining Gramsci and Lacan, and the work of Raymond Williams continue to provide cultural studies with directions for a model of social subjectivity But we need a systematic theorization of emotion and affect as culturally - and historically - variable features of how we know and interact; and we need an account of how educational theory and practice can take emotions seriously.
Simultaneous with theoretical struggles, we are faced with a very urgent need for an account of affective and social subjects. Quite suddenly, emotions have been brought out of the background and into the foreground in curricula and workplace. The recent popularity of "emotional intelligence," based on the authority of neurobiological science, has shaped an explicit "emotional literacy" curricula now taught in hundreds of public and private schools. Following the legacy of Darwin and B.F. Skinner, these behavioral modification programs teach children to recognize the universal facial expressions of the seven basic emotions - for example, fear, anger, joy, sadness, and so forth. The explicit goals are to control gang violence and teen pregnancy; and to teach group decision making and conflict resolution.
What models of the human agency and social relations underlie these curricula - if any? I argue for philosophers of education to evaluate what models of the self are assumed in these curricula. Further, we need to develop an account of emotion that (1) understands emotions as socially embedded; (2) does not explain emotions in rationalist terms that reduce human interaction to being driven primarily by desire for ultimate rationality/coherence of beliefs, or solely by biological drives; (3) begins to account for the unspoken affective dimension of our communication; (4) suggests how we can develop pedagogies that might derive from these theories. What directions might we look to outline an account of affect not founded on a privileging of rationality and language? I turn to recent work from three very different disciplines: objects relations theory in conjunction with developmental psychology; one model of poststructuralism; and two feminist philosophers; to formulate an expressivist theory of emotion.
CONTEMPORARY OBJECT RELATIONS THEORY Infancy studies provide one place to begin examining the affective dimensions not always expressed in language. In recent work Daniel Stern combines developmental psychology and psychoanalytic theory, and revisions the psychoanalytic accounts of infant experience. Based on clinical research, Stern argues for an intrasubjective rather than the intrapsychic (individual and autonomous) account of subjectivity. In contrast to Freud and Lacan, contemporary object relations theory demonstrates that the infant and mother collaborate in a prelingual, affective mode of communication. In Freud's account the infant is seen first as a symbiotic unitary whole with the mother, and must then individuate, differentiate and become autonomous. Referring to Stern's clinical research, feminist psychoanalytic theorist Jessica Benjamin writes, "infancy research has developed a new model for early experiences of emotional intensity and exchange which emphasizes reciprocity as opposed to instinctual gratification of separation."[8] For preverbal infants, from birth to the age of about 9 months, the primary mode of expression between mother and child Stern calls "interaffective." For example, in what is called "crossmodal interaffective attunement," the infant expresses enthusiasm through an excited squeal, and the mother "matches" the affective expression crossmodally. She may squeal as well, but also match the infant's verbal expression in a different modality - say, a bodily gesture that matches the timing, rhythm, and intensity of the infant's verbal expression. These interaffective attunements are largely shaped by what Stern calls "vitality affects." Vitality affects are best described "by dynamic, kinetic terms, such as surging, 'fading away,' 'fleeting,' 'explosive,' 'crescendo,' 'decrescendo,' 'bursting,' 'drawn out,' and so on. These qualities of experience are most certainly sensible to infants."[9] Stern distinguishes these vitality affects from "categorical affects" (which happen to be the seven "universal" emotions taught in EQ curriculum). Categorical affects are the more familiar, named emotions. The more subtle expressions are called vitality affects.
Stern documents the success of these interaffective communications through instances where the matching is "off." For example, an infant is playing on the floor and pounding his hand up and down in a particular rhythm. If the mother wiggles the child in a matching rhythm the infant continues to play. But if she wiggles him in a slower or faster rhythm, he looks back at her in recognition of a discrepancy.
Unlike Freudian accounts in which the infant is driven by differentiation and separation and the gratification of instinctual drives, Stern argues that the infant develops within a world of intrasubjective reciprocity and exchange, fundamentally communicated through affect.
This model is exciting for an account of economies of minds, but Stern disappoints as well. Rather than exploring how this affective exchange develops in adult behavior, he accepts the Lacanian model: once we learn to speak we enter a culture that privileges language. Prelingual affective communication becomes one's idiosyncratic individualized perception, which gets little cultural recognition. As a result, vitality affects are channeled into the depth of the individualized unconscious through processes of repression, denial, and disavowal and are then visible only through dreams, parapraxes, or neuroses. Within a culture in which language is privileged, the only emotions named and thereby acknowledged are the relatively impoverished seven categorical affects.
I am not compelled by the Lacanian model of inevitable splitting of the subject from his or her affective perceptions. Rather, I alternatively suggest we call this phenomenon "inscribed habits of inattention." Inscribed habits of inattention are the processes whereby vitality effects become submerged and devalued. Generally speaking, within our classrooms and scholarly work, if any emotions are addressed it is usually the categorical affects - fear, anger, and so forth, while the dynamic range of affect is systematically erased.
POSTSTRUCTURALISM To what philosophy can we turn to help us understand, for example, the child who interacts affectively in prelingual phase, acquires language, but then must accept inscribed habits of inattention imposed by cultural consensus? Drawing on the work of Spinoza, Gilles Deleuze includes in his metaphysics an account of how affect operates dynamically within social interaction. I briefly outline how his functional metaphysics illuminates what I call inscribed habits of inattention.
Despite his reputation as an opponent of psychoanalysis, Deleuze's distinction between emotion and affect is uncannily synonymous with Stern's distinction between categorical and vitality affect.[10] For Deleuze, emotions - like the seven categorical affects - are those feelings named and recognized within dominant language. Affects, on the other hand, are resistant to language but nonetheless present and offer potential for what Deleuze calls "lines of flight." Line of flight suggest unpredictable directions for "becoming" rather than "being" in a fixed and static sense.[11] For Deleuze, affects are synonymous with intensities - intensities of movement, rhythm, gesture, and energy. Affects are not "assimilable" into the dominant systems of languages narrative and linear dampening. Affects are forces located within space and time which suggest directions outside of the expected.
Much more can be said about Deleuze's theories of desire in relation to his work on pragmatics (rather than semiotics), expression, and bodies. But important for my argument is that his distinction between affect and emotion suggests another way of understanding inscribed habits of inattention. In the Deleuzian metaphysics, affects are not simply buried in an individual unconscious. Rather, they continue to be expressed at all times through the body, particularly in terms of movement, gesture, and intensities. Affects are not only part of how we understand one another, but map proactive encounters between bodies and forces. For Deleuze, affects map "encounters," and are thus a map of ethics. Drawing on Spinoza, Deleuze writes "'Ethology is first of all the study of the relations of speed and slowness, of the capacities for affecting and being affected that characterize each thing.'"[12] In Moira Gatens's discussion of Deleuze she writes, "Ethology does not impose a plane of organization but rather posits a plane of experimentation, a mapping of extensive relations and intensive capacities that are mobile and dynamic."[13]
Gatens emphasizes the role of expression as a power of the speaking body and affects. However, she does not emphasize affect as a "preverbal" phenomenon. "This approach to language does not posit bodies on one side and language on the other. Rather, bodies and states of affairs are interleaved with the 'collective assemblages of enunciation/utterance.'"[14] Even given the view that emotions are more closely bound to language than are affect, Gatens's analysis of expression acknowledges both emotion and affects as central to ethology. "Words," she writes in her embrace of Deleuze and Spinoza's non-dualistic account of bodies and language, "do not inscribe, etch , or scrape the surface of bodies, they express both the attempt to capture bodies in stable forms...and the possible, or virtual, becomings of bodies."[15]
What does this mean for education which relies so heavily on verbal and written communications? Let me provide examples of how inscribed habits of inattention operate in lived social interactions. I turn to the promising work of two feminist philosophers who map out the territories of specific emotions. Each philosopher emphasizes the inadequacy of rational language to characterize the collaborative and public nature of affective meanings and expressions.
FEMINIST PHILOSOPHERS Sandra Bartky critiques the Marxist explanation of ideology.[16] She demonstrates that the feminized version of "shame" reflects an emotion that is neither rational nor irrational. Given the now-dominant ideology of the equality of men and women, shame does not reflect a "rational" effect of ideology. Yet, neither is shame irrational. Rather, Bartky describes women's belief in their unworthiness as "engendered attunements."
Sue Campbell's essay, "Being Dismissed: The Politics of Emotional Expression," builds on recent feminist philosophical analyses of bitterness.[17] Some feminists have reclaimed bitterness as a "legitimate and rational" response to injustice or oppression.[18] Campbell critiques this rationalist language, and points out that to argue that the bitter person has "legitimate and rational reasons" for her feeling thrusts the "burden of justification" onto the bitter individual. As an alternative to this reinscription of the rational individual, Campbell demonstrates how bitterness is collaboratively formed. It is not that you knew you felt bitter, and then happened to decide to express it. Rather, you expressed your anger and were told "You're just bitter." Once accused of bitterness, you must justify your reasons. Further, to be told "you're bitter" is a dismissal and a silencing. Even if you then articulate your reasons for being bitter the other is no longer listening. If instead we recognize that bitterness is collaboratively and publicly formed, it does not make sense to require the bitter individual to justify her reasons. Rather, what is called for is a full social accountability on part for the interpretive context.
On a wider level, Campbell analyzes the concept of "social uptake," and the "blocking" or "dismissal" of emotions. These are instances in which those with greater power enforce the culturally-condoned habits of inattention. "'Social uptake' is defined as necessary to the success of emotions."[19] Social uptake refers for example to a woman who gets angry watching her mechanic mess up the successful adjustment she herself had made to her carburetor. When she expresses her anger he calls her a "crazy bitch" and changes the subject. Not only does he refuse to "uptake" her anger, but he displaces it and frames her as crazy. Her emotional expression is successfully "blocked" through this social interaction. Like the infant who was patting his hand at a certain speed, and seeking acknowledgment of the other, so does the adult affectively communicate and seek attunement. However, in a system which privileges rationality and language, such affective attunements can easily be dismissed and ignored given accepted cultural hierarchies of power.
The examples offered by Bartky and Campbell exemplify affective social interactions and expressions. These need not be explained through recourse to an individual unconscious; the interaction between the woman and her mechanic demonstrates affect traced in voice, intensity, gestures, and body. Neither can women's shame be adequately explained in a rational discourse that founds existential and Marxist accounts.
CONCLUSION The model of inscribed habits of inattention asks us to examine our own compliance with these subjected habits. For education this means first that we begin to take stock of the systematic neglect of emotion in scholarly discourses. With our students we can develop the analytical skills to recognize the authoritative narratives of biology, pathology, and rationality that govern the expression and understandings of emotion within texts and writing practices. Second, we can begin to ask such questions as: How do we experience our affective privileges as well as our lack of affective resources? For example, in what instances do male privilege and authority rest on the socially accepted rules about which persons are allowed to "take up" emotional space? What would a more equal distribution of these social resources look like? When does male privilege permit dismissal of feminist issues as bitter and overly-emotional political ravings? In what instances do women accept their marginalized or victimized roles, rather than taking up space and exercising affective movement to articulate refusal to settle for anything less than absolutely everything?
There are many questions and challenges that follow from pursuing these lines of inquiry. To call for pedagogies that do not privilege rationality, and to decide when and how affects can and should be articulated is truly problematic and challenging. But as long as we tame the labile student and educator, we contain her to predictable lines of inquiry. When Calvin's Sister crosses her arms and states with great intensity, "I never thought of myself as female," we are witnessing a highly promising moment that deserves recognition and inquiry. Refusals suggest slippery and unstable labile movement. Inscribed habits of inattention tell us to give up, to pass over the multiple dimensions of her refusal. But if we follow these lines of flight, away from stagnant habits and towards collaborative affective inquiry, we open affective territories that promise passionate educational exploration not yet colonized in the economies of mind.
***For a response to this essay, see Gosselin.
I am particularly grateful to Jim Marshall and Stephen Appel whose readings of this essay helped to clarify my argument.[1]. See for example Megan Boler "Rational, Pathological, Romantic, or Political? Disciplined Emotions in Philosophy," Educational Theory 47, no. 3 (Summer 1997); Mary Leach and Megan Boler, "Gilles Deleuze: Practicing Education Through Flight and Gossip," in Naming the Multiple: Poststructuralism and Education, ed. Michael Peters (New York: Bergin and Garvey, forthcoming 1997).
[2]. I suggest "economies of mind" to describe emotion and affect as fundamentally social phenomenon, but which function within an affective logic that cannot be entirely explained through our dominant languages of rationality or biology. Economies of mind operate within and help define spheres of family, workplace, and schools, but are rarely acknowledged in public discourse. Raymond Williams's concept of "structures of feeling" captures some dimensions of what I mean by economies of mind. See Raymond Williams, Marxism and Literature (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977).
[3]. In many cases the educational theories which use psychoanalytic concepts may not reflect an adequate or fully informed grasp of psychoanalytic theory. My critical view of the use of such concepts as "desire" and the "unconscious" nonetheless applies to popularized versions of psychoanalysis, as well as to more scholarly appeals to this theoretical account.
[4]. For an early critique of psychoanalysis along these lines, see Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks (1952; reprint, New York: Grove Press, 1967).
[5]. Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents, 11.
[6]. Suzanne Clark and Kathleen Hulley, "An Interview with Julia Kristeva," Discourse: Theoretical Studies in Media and Culture 13, no. 1 (1990-91): 149-80.
[7]. Daniel Prescott, Emotions and the Educative Process (Washington: American Council on Education, 1938), 43.
[8]. Jessica Benjamin, The Bonds of Love: Psychoanalysis, Feminism, and the Problem of Domination (New York: Pantheon Books, 1988), 26.
[9]. Daniel Stern, The Interpersonal World of the Infant: A View from Psychoanalysis and Developmental Psychology (New York: Basic Books, 1985), 54.
[10]. See Brian Massumi, "The Autonomy of Affect," in Deleuze: A Critical Reader, ed. Paul Patton (London: Blackwell, 1996).
[11]. See Deleuze and Felix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988).
[12]. Deleuze, quoted in Moira Gatens, "Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power," in Patton, Deleuze, 167.
[13]. Ibid., 169.
[14]. Ibid., 180.
[15]. Ibid., 182.
[16]. Sandra Bartky, Femininity and Domination (New York: Routledge, 1990).
[17]. Sue Campbell, "Being Dismissed: The Politics of Emotional Expression," Hypatia 9, no. 3 (1994): 46-65.
[18]. See Lynne Mc Fall, "What's Wrong with Bitterness?" in Feminist Ethics. ed. Claudia Card (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1991).
[19]. Campbell, "Being Dismissed," 480.