Homelessness-or-Symbolic-Castration?

Subjectivity,
Language Acquisition, and Sociality in Julia Kristeva
and Jacques Lacan
Schmitz, Bettina. Jansen, Julia.

Homelessness or Symbolic Castration?

Subjectivity, Language Acquisition, and Sociality in
Julia Kristeva and Jacques Lacan
BETTINA SCHMITZ TRANSLATED BY JULIA JANSEN
How much violence can a society expect its members to accept? A comparison between the
language theories of Julia Kristeva and Jacques Lacan is the starting point for answering this
question. A look at the early stages of language acquisition exposes the sacrificial logic of
patriarchal society. Are those forces that restrict the individual to be conceived in a martial
imagery of castration or is it possible that an existing society critically questions those points of
socialization that leave their members in a state of homelessness? The following considerations
should help to distinguish between unavoidable and avoidable forms of violence.
Julia Kristeva’s and Jacques Lacan’s theories bear various resemblances. For example, both
work on a connection between structuralist linguistics and psychoanalysis, even though they
emphasize different aspects of this connec- tion. Of course, Lacan initially was Julia Kristeva’s
teacher. However, Kristeva certainly cannot be characterized as a Lacanian. She begins to
develop her own psychoanalytic and linguistic system that follows Lacan to an extent but is in
general indebted to her contemporary structuralist environment. The independence with which
Kristeva proceeds corresponds to a quality of Lacan’s thought that—both stimulating and confusing
—is certainly not suitable for “dogmatic imitation.”
A number of concepts coined and developed by Lacan can also be found in Kristeva: the
symbolic, the lack, the mirror stage, the meaning of symbolic
Hypatia vol. 20, no. 2 (Spring 2005) © by Bettina Schmitz
70 Hypatia
castration. Yet, one ought to be cautious with such comparisons, not only
because Lacan’s concepts are extremely difficult to explain. Quite a lot in
Kristeva reminds us of Lacan. However, upon careful reading one almost always
finds modifications of Lacanian terms. These modifications in fact disclose the
1 specific tenor of Kristeva’s approach. Thus, the symbolic in Kristeva also refers

to a realm of universal obligation both intersubjectively valid and rational. However, it is not related
to the real and the imaginary as it is in Lacan. Rather, in Revolution in Poetic Language, Kristeva
develops the notion of the symbolic by contrasting it with the semiotic. According to her, the
semiotic and the symbolic are the two modes of the linguistic process.
I will discuss the connection between the symbolic and the semiotic—which clearly influenced
Kristeva’s theory of language—later. To restrict the scope of this article, the focus will be on the
development of subjective structures and on the entry into language and society. At times I will draw
upon Lacan’s position for the sake of comparison. First, I will sketch out my understanding of how
the two theories relate to each other. By indicating that the symbolic receives a different definition
in Kristeva, I do not wish, however, to pursue the ques- tion as to which definition is the “correct”
one and thereby play off one theory against the other. 2 Kristeva herself described her approach to
Lacan as follows: “It would be strange for a psychoanalyst, asked to present her own reading of
Jacques Lacan’s texts and practice, to consider herself either a propagator or a critic of his work”
(Kristeva 1983, 33).
The differences between Kristeva and Lacan are first of all based on a differ- ence in focus with
respect to language, which reflects their different views on psychoanalysis in general. Thus
François Dosse stresses that Lacan—following Lévi-Strauss—uses a formal notion of the
unconscious that does not have much to do anymore with the one developed by Freud. Moreover,
according to Dosse, the wish is transformed by Lacan into desire and thus turned into a structuralist
notion (Dosse 1997).3 Kristeva, on the contrary, advocates a return to Freud on exactly this point.
Her understanding is far more historical and ascribes a very important role to the drive in
particular. It is possible to explain this difference between the positions biographically. Lacan
starts his career as physician and psychiatrist. Conversely, Kristeva’s origin lies in semiology
within the context of literature and linguistics, influenced by the linguistic and social theory of her
country of origin, Bulgaria. For example, “Word, Dialogue, and Novel”—one of her early essays—
had the purpose of introducing Baktin’s linguistic theory to the French audience (Kristeva 1980,
64–91).
In this essay, Kristeva develops—following Baktin—her early conception of intertextuality from
which emerges the concept of transposition in Revolu- tion in Poetic Language. In fact, the notion
of intertextuality is central to Julia Kristeva’s work. 4 It is possible to approach Kristeva’s idea of the
linguistic process by means of the concept of intertextuality. In the Baktin article, she
Bettina Schmitz 71
introduces intertextuality as a surrogate for intersubjectivity. However, it would be too hasty to
identify that move with a structuralist rejection of the subject. Intersubjectivity and intertextuality
continue to interrelate and remain fundamental for Kristeva’s further work. They provide the
foundation for her understanding of the social embeddedness of the linguistic process—an idea
that Kristeva shares with Lacan, who likewise works on the relation between individuality and
sociality.5
In what follows I will first present Kristeva’s theory of language from Revolution in Poetic
Language and then make a few comparisons with Lacan’s approach. Initially, I will discuss the
individual’s entry into language. In the context of Kristeva’s notions of the semiotic and the
symbolic, language and social order—the symbolic—are almost equated with each other, as they
are in Lacan. Thus, the “entry into language” can already mean the “entry into society.” It is
therefore possible to read Revolution in Poetic Language as a lin- guistically oriented theory of
socialization. In a second step, then, I will focus on the relation between individual and society
using the concept of symbolic castration as a guiding thread for my considerations.
Julia Kristeva’s Concept of Language: The Externality of Language
“Who then came to wound the subject, so that he should expose his thoughts?” (Levinas, 1998, 84).
Emmanuel Levinas’s question immediately resonates with an impression that also determines
Kristeva’s understanding of language.6 Both Kristeva and Levinas—albeit in different ways—draw a
connection between language and events external to language. Coming from linguistics, Kristeva
demands in her early writings a translinguistic step. This step leads her to the question of what is
external to language in Revolution in Poetic Language. She refers to an intersubjective as well as
physical reality outside of language. Like Levinas, she assumes that something must have
happened that forced humans to speak. Language—understood by Kristeva as a process—is
intimately and necessarily linked to events that are not of merely a linguistic nature.
However, as soon as a more precise characterization of the extralinguistic
is attempted, Levinas’s formulation fails to capture Kristeva’s understanding of
language. For example, for her, language certainly is not a mere externaliza- 7
tion of pre-existing thoughts. Above all, she does not conceive of a subject that would in any
sense be prior to speech. Of course, subjective structures are prepared—in the semiotic. A
subject, in the strict sense of the word, however, is always a speaking subject and it can—
however divided—never be separated from its linguistic condition.8 In Black Sun, she treats this
condition in terms of the relation between chose and objet (Kristeva 1989, 13–15). Thereby, she
joins a tradition outlined by Slavoj Žižek in the following words: “As soon as we are
72 Hypatia
within language, there is no return any longer to the thing in its immediate reality, this is to say,
the thing is more present in the word than in its immediate reality, only the word tells us what the
thing actually is” (1990, 246).
This thought is indebted both to Hegel and to a Lacanian understanding of psychoanalysis and
language. To comprehend something—the thing—means to be able to find a concept for it. Yet
this very process has already transformed the thing. On the one hand, it is the thing turned into
an object; on the other hand, it is only as object that the thing can acquire meaning and
significance. Kristeva is interested not only in the possibility of bringing “things” or states of affairs
to linguistic and conceptual reality but also in the self-relation this entails. The Ego constitutes
itself in that it gains symbolic reality in a simulta- neous process with “things” (that thereby turn
into objects or states of affairs). The demand for the “translinguistic step” and the question of
what is “external to language” precisely refer to this self-relation. By making this turn, Kristeva
counters two typical structuralist weaknesses, the underestimation of both historicity and
subjectivity (Dosse 1997, 345). Furthermore, she meets a concern that is always associated with
theoretical models, namely, the risk of neglect- ing reality in favor of the model that was supposed
to structure and account for it.9 On the contrary, Kristeva indicates from the very beginning that
she is critically aware of this conflict within the linguistic-structuralist paradigm; a conflict
manifested in the tension between the scientific distance of order and the immediacy—even felt
intimacy—of the life-world.
On the one hand, the extralinguistic reference that is the concern of Revolution in Poetic
Language is methodological; the aim is to go beyond “mere linguistics.” On the other hand, it also
indicates a dimension of content by refer- ring to the pre- and extralinguistic: that which happens to
us. Psychoanalysis enables Kristeva’s extension of linguistics with respect to both method and
content. First of all, it becomes possible to thematize the unconscious and its drives. Further, the
psychoanalytic framework permits claims about language acquisition in children. Thus, the first
part of Revolution in Poetic Language mainly—aside from passages that consider various views
on the constitution of meaning—deals with the genesis of language.
Any account of language that is indebted to structuralism is essentially
characterized by Saussure’s distinction between signifier and signified, albeit in
a modified fashion. In Lacan in particular, we can observe a tendency to empty
the signified and to emphasize the signifier; a tendency that is accompanied by 10
the formalization mentioned above (see Dosse 1997, 106–107). As it happens whenever the
relation between signifier and signified is uneven, there is then an excess. Kristeva’s theory ties in
with this excess since she agrees with Lacan that there is no simple correspondence between
signifier and signified. How- ever, she does assume that there are motives for connecting the two,
thereby
Bettina Schmitz 73
contradicting Saussure’s doctrine of the arbitrary relation between signifier and signified. In fact,
these motives become Kristeva’s genuine field of research by which she corrects Lacan’s
formalistic oversight of affectivity. Her emphasis on emotionality must be regarded as the most
fundamental difference between Kristeva’s and Lacan’s theory.11 For Kristeva, signification is always
materialisti- cally bound to unconscious drives; it has a history, a genesis, and it is known not only
intellectually but also emotionally.
The principal question is therefore: how are we connected to the difference
between signifier and signified by which we name not only objects and states of
affairs but also ourselves? The relation necessary for signification is intertwined
with self-relation. While Saussure thinks that the relation between signifier and 12
signified is psychical, Kristeva pushes this idea further and asks for the bodily and libidinal
roots of this psychical relation.
At this point a look at the genesis of the Ego in Lacan is helpful. His early
essay “The Mirror Stage as Formative of the Function of the I” (Lacan 1977, 1–7)
deals with the issue of identity (here called “function of the I”). Lacan explains
the genesis of identity in reference to a specific phase in the development of the
individual whose experience is reconstructed with respect to the unity of the
I. Lacan wrote this essay before he had developed most of his main concepts,
although he was clearly preparing them—such as the later Lacanian notion of
a subject that always misses itself and that finds itself as other and in the other, 13
or such as the scission between the symbolic and the imaginary. The child described by Lacan is
still very small; it must be held. When we try to imagine the scenario, we notice first of all that a
space opens up in the imaginary relation between je and moi without which there could be no I to
speak of. The I, of which I can only be seemingly aware in an immediate sense, emerges only in
a spatial distance that is at the same time a self-distance. At this point, it is easy to conceive how
the description of the mirror stage could be developed further, not within Lacan’s, but within
Kristeva’s framework. For example, the spatial intuition of the mirror stage could serve to open up
the
space of the semiotic chora. However, this would mean to give new emphasis to ideas that Lacan
only
alludes to and that he fails to flesh out. For example, it is not enough that the child will be held in
order to undergo this experience, and it is certainly not enough to put the child into the
“orthopedic support” of a trotte-bébé. Rather, the reassuring presence of another person who
holds the child guarantees that the unity of je and moi becomes imaginable. Lilli Gast has pointed
out that Lacan’s tendency to neglect the importance of this condition amounts to a serious
weakness in his account (1992, 342–45). Not only is the mirror stage always already embedded
in the symbolic, but also it can only occur because the existing symbolic framework is mediated
via a specific person. Only by
74 Hypatia
means of the interaction with another person, specifically with the mother and her body, can the
mirror stage take place, which in turn marks the moment of dissociation from the primary
attachment figure.
George Downing stresses in his interpretation of the mirror stage that the time in which the child
realizes “that the mirror-image shows the body which it personally inhabits” (1996, 202) is the first
time it also realizes that it has an exteriority. At the same time, the child begins to learn how to
speak. Accord- ing to Downing, the child learns not only to perceive itself as something external
but also to use chains of words (202). This is precisely the point where Kristeva’s theory of
language sets in. For her, the process of meaning constitu- tion is understood exactly in terms of
the connection between self-distance, imagined unity (which also entails limitation), and the
possibility of being a speaking subject.
The event of language acquisition is always interpersonal. This is true even though it is at first an
exchange between the child and its parents that is more appropriately characterized as
intercorporeal rather than intersubjective. It is in the context of such language acquisition that the
separation between the semi- otic and the symbolic, which is so crucial for Kristeva’s approach,
takes place. The semiotic is one of the two modalities of the process of language. Although it
refers to a pre- or extralinguistic realm it is nonetheless indispensable for language. It is precisely
not to be understood in terms of the “finished” sign as the object of semiotics or semiology.
Rather, it is the realm of early imprinting within which a precursor of order emerges. The semiotic
comprises structures that are still provisional and ambivalent. These structures are conditions for
the genesis of linguistic signs and not yet signs themselves.
The semiotic, or the semiotic chora, emerges as a first bodily ordering (ordon- nancement) in
accordance with the drive deferment that the child undergoes
14 and in synchrony with the rhythm of need and satisfaction. Speech, on the
contrary, occurs in the symbolic and as symbolic. Here we encounter a prob- lem, though, that
makes it clear that the semiotic is initially not more than a postulate justified only in retrospect by
virtue of its explanatory force. Sounds of pleasure and pain, for example, are certainly not
meaningless but they are not expressions that use distinct signs either. They occupy an
intermediate position. Their specifically linguistic sense would be only brought to bear on the
actual level of the sign. And yet, linguistic expressions always comprise both modalities; they are
always sustained by both the symbolic and the semiotic. For example, the musical element of
language, such as the sound of words or the intonation, might come closer to the semiotic
modality. The very fact that it seems difficult to classify certain elements as either semiotic or
symbolic shows that that differentiation is ultimately “artificial.” The space of the semiotic chora
should not be objectified in this way.
Bettina Schmitz 75
The child’s very first holophrastic utterances indicate the incision of a separation: the ability to refer
to something other already presupposes an initial distance. The second crucial step for language
acquisition is the ability to say “I.” Mirror stage and symbolic castration bring forth a subject
situated in the symbolic from its own perspective as well.
In order to clarify the status of the semiotic and the symbolic—which is
controversial even in commentaries on Kristeva—it is helpful to contrast two
seemingly contradictory claims. On the one hand, Kristeva clearly emphasizes
that the semiotic is pre-thetic and thus prior to sense and significance (1984,
36 and 48). It is supposed to refer to the operation “that logically and chrono-
logically precedes the establishment of the symbolic and its subject” (41). On
the other hand, however, Kristeva also maintains that the symbolic logically 15
and chronologically precedes all organization of the semiotic. At first glance, this might suggest
that the author does not understand her own theory. I will attempt to show that this is not the
case. Rather, Kristeva’s theory makes it possible for both claims to be valid.
When we think of language acquisition in terms of individual abilities, then we have to conceive of the
semiotic as prior to the symbolic. The individual’s mastery of signification presupposes the semiotic
as pre-figuration of signs. Only later does the thetic barrier separate the semiotic from the
symbolic. The order of the symbolic is constantly dissolved by the semiotic drives that initiate the
constitution of meaning again and again.
Even in the context of this genetic approach, it becomes clear that the point cannot be to surpass and
overcome the semiotic once and for all in a singular development into the symbolic. Instead, we
must conceive of the persisting potency of the semiotic in terms of a chronological and logical
priority. The relation between the semiotic and the symbolic can be understood in a dialec- tical
sense; neither modality has absolute priority. Rather, they codetermine one another. Thus, if we
want to ask the question of priority, we must also ask: prior in what respect?
The dialectical relation between the semiotic and the symbolic intimates a structural approach
that shapes the second thesis and assumes the priority of the symbolic. With respect to its
organization, the symbolic is logically and chronologically prior to the semiotic (whereby one must
keep in mind here that in the signification process, structure and development are always
combined). To disregard the priority of the symbolic would mean to grossly oversimplify Kristeva’s
model. In that case, we would have a mere genetic account which at the end would dissolve the
linguistic process into a series of phases. Contrary to that account, it is crucial to emphasize the
structure of the process in which all its moments are conserved and remain operative. This
“structural version” agrees with Lacan’s doctrine of the priority of the signifier. The emergence of
76 Hypatia
the semiotic, which in the individual development of the child precedes the
symbolic, is always integrated into an already existing web of symbolic order
within which adults move as a matter of course and from which the baby cannot
escape either. The immersion in language, with which the baby is confronted
from the very start, will influence and mould its own linguistic ability. The
manner in which a particular society treats children will affect their entrance 16
into the symbolic. However, the structural emphasis must not let us forget that without the
exchange with others, the imaginary space of the mirror stage and the pre- linguistic space of the
semiotic could never come about. Thus, the structural account must be complemented by genetic
and intersubjective elements. Whenever Kristeva emphasizes the presence of the symbolic, even
within the mother-child relation, where it is mediated by the mother’s body (1984, 27), she thereby
refers to the priority of the social order.
The semiotic by itself is not only unspeakable; it is also unthinkable, unimag- inable. In order to
approach it conceptually, we need symbolic “crutches.” As soon as we want to communicate
about the language process, we are dealing with both modalities. Accordingly, it makes sense to
say—without thereby rejecting the genetic account—that the semiotic is retroactively generated
by means of the thetic scission.
In the light of these two kinds of connection between the semiotic and the symbolic we can also
see the epistemological status of the semiotic more clearly. The epistemological status of the semiotic
is fairly analogous to the status of the unconscious in psychoanalysis, which I will not discuss here.
Rather, I would like to turn to the question of how we can conceive the relation between indi-
vidual and society in terms of Kristeva’s theory of subjectivity and language. Like Levinas in the
passage quoted above, Kristeva is very much aware of the fact that speech is based on
extralinguistic events, some of which are traumatic. She uses this assumption to expand a theory of
language formerly restricted by structuralist and linguistic constraints. In this way, her linguistic
approach moves toward a social theory that makes it possible to discuss how we enter society in
the first place. It invites the following question: how traumatic must the entry into society be?
Identity and the Question of Symbolic Castration
Following Lacan and Kristeva, the entry into society can be conceived as sym- bolic castration. I
will present the notion of symbolic castration in conjunction with the notion of identity brought forth in
the linguistic process. However, I will also question the notion of symbolic castration, even though
Lacan rejects such a questioning. Writing about the fulfillment of desire, he remarks: “Experi- ence
proves that it is usually forbidden me, not only, as certain fools believe,
Bettina Schmitz 77
because of a bad arrangement of society, but rather because of the fault (faute)
of the Other if he existed” (1977, 317). We find the limits of our desires—and
their fulfillments, which Lacan seems to forget—in others. Yet, the formation
of this relation leaves a social leeway that should not be underestimated. In
opposition to Lacan, who for the most part neglects this social aspect, I propose
that it should be clarified where one’s own desires find their necessary limit and 17
where avoidable social constraints come into play. Identity is always threatened—not only by
castration. Kristeva’s contribution
to a theory of subjective structures mainly expounds the genesis of identity as
it develops in the course of dissociation from primary attachment figures. As
we have seen, such an event is always already embedded in a network of social
relations. Let us now turn to the connection between individual development
and social conditions. Kristeva insists that we must understand the history of
language as a history of separation. However, she is concerned not only with
the regrettable loss of an early intimacy with the mother, which is often used 18
for some kind of paradisiacal fantasy. Kristeva also wants to show that it is precisely through this
separation that the mother, and with her all others, can be regained as others. Separation means
both liberation and new ties.
In the light of this context, Allison Weir stresses that Kristeva’s theory can
be understood as a “non-sacrificial model of identity” (Weir 1996, 146). Weir is
here referring to that aspect of Kristeva’s theory that conjoins the constitution
of meaning with personal identity. The identity of the subject-in-process emerges
alongside signification. First of all, it must be emphasized that, in opposition
to other postmodern and poststructuralist conceptions of a dissolved identity,
Kristeva has a positive conception of identity. She initially follows approaches
that assume the “decentralization” (Lacan) or the splitting (Derrida) of the
subject. However, for Kristeva, the split or decentralized subject is only a phase
in a process of dissolution and generation of structures. She insists that it is at
first vital to develop an identity that denominates and claims the position of the
subject within the symbolic order. Only in a second step and from the stand-
point of an already existing identity can this identity be dissolved, albeit with
19 the implicit aim of developing new structures, a new identity. The dissolution

marks one phase of the identity process of the subject. In this context, the task of this theory is “to
develop a model of self-identity as a capacity for participa- tion in a social world” (Weir 1996,
146). Identity is always embedded in a social context. On the one hand, it is determined by that
context; on the other hand, it is the very condition for our ability to participate in this context.
Weir applies this view to Kristeva’s conception of separation and therefore concludes: “Kristeva
wants to differentiate between an experience of separa- tion which is painful, difficult and
psychologically violent, and the violence of domination, which is a very different thing” (150). Weir
differentiates two different kinds of violence: First, there is the painful experience of separation
78 Hypatia
that is experienced as a violation and presents a violent infringement on the “ecosystem of mother
and child.” Second, there is the violence of domination. It might be the case that the violence that is
caused by and in turn upholds rela- tions of domination cannot be avoided. However, it can under no
circumstances be justified on the basis of the violence of separation. Keeping these two kinds of
violence in mind, Weir’s remark can help to elucidate Kristeva’s conception of separation and
identity in the light of her notion of symbolic castration.
What could be meant by “symbolic castration” in this context? In Revolution in Poetic Language,
Kristeva refers to two particularly important phases in the history of subjectivity—the mirror stage
and the “discovery” of castration—that motivate the positing of the thetic barrier (the division of the
semiotic and the symbolic), for the signifying process. “The discovery of castration . . . detaches
the subject from his dependence on the mother, and the perception of the lack [manqué] makes
the phallic function a symbolic function—the symbolic function” (1984, 47).
Castration here means mainly separation. On the one hand, the mother is discovered as
belonging to only one sex—that is, fantasies of the phallic- omnipotent mother are corrected.
Thereby the mother is also recognized as a figure who cannot fulfill all desires. On the other
hand, this goes alongside the child’s discovery of its own sex defined as either male or female.
Further- more, the child becomes first of all aware of its dependency, which should not be
ignored. Lack and liberation condition and limit each other. Likewise, the relation between need or
desire and satisfaction or fulfillment begins to change and to become more sophisticated.
According to Kristeva, the separation from the mother lets the subject find its identity in the
symbolic and thus translates the semiotic movement into the symbolic order (1984, 47). When we
pay atten- tion to the parallel structure of the symbolic and the linguistic order, we can also see
the connection between the experience of lack and the emergence and acquisition of language.
Thus, Barbara Rendtorff can claim: “Language is linked to lack” (1996, 107). “The law is the law
of the signifier, the desire, the inscription into the symbolic, language—law is nothing but the
recognition of symbolic castration, the recognition of one’s imperfection, one’s finitude, one’s lack
of unity. This law is not available; we are not free to choose it, or if so, then only in the mode of a
coerced choice. In the moment of entry into language it is erected as pre-existing, as a law that
has always been there and that attains validity through language. Thus, this law indicates both
lack and abundance. It refers to the necessity of accepting loss and limitation and, at the same
time, it releases need/desire, the capacity to symbolize, communication, and relation to others”
(Rendtorff 1996, 109–10).
Rendtorff describes—partially following Lacan, partially surpassing him— the task and limit of the
law with respect to its significance for individuals. Her point is not so much to understand the human
being (as opposed to the animal)
Bettina Schmitz 79
as a creature of lack that constructs symbolic prostheses for itself. Rather, she intends to draw a
connection—relevant for all human beings—between the significance of lack (and abundance) and
the birth of sociality, of structures and laws. Applied to Kristeva’s theory, this means, as Weir
claims, that what is at stake is to signify both the law and its transgression (Weir 1996, 155)—a trans-
gression that ultimately does not imply chaos but a process of restructuring.
Let me summarize how we are to understand castration: castration corrects fantasies of
omnipotence in which a hyperpotent subject thinks itself able to do and to be everything on its own.
Sexual difference also and especially belongs in this context. Castration has to do with mortality,
dependency, and sexuality.20
Especially for adolescents who face the necessity of having to find their own place in society, it is
crucial to come to terms with these issues. A phantasma- goric, imaginary potential is released. In
many cultures, the completion of this phase and the entry into the society of adults is celebrated by a
rite of initiation. Kristeva claims in the following passage that these rituals are superseded by
imaginary activities, be they artistically creative or dreamlike. “Our society . . . clearly allows
adolescents to have an imaginary. Modern societies have come to offer an invitation to engage in
imaginary activities that replace—or merely water down—the rites of passage that other societies
require of their adolescents. Nevertheless, an adult could be entitled to this imaginary only as a
reader or spectator of novels, films, or paintings—or as an artist. For that matter, what, if not an
‘open structure,’ could motivate someone to write?” (1995, 139).
According to Kristeva, what is special about the modern way in which the individual enters society
—the surpassing of initiation by imaginary activi- ties—is that it comes with very few constraints.
Nonetheless, the passage to the symbolic is still unavoidable and must be marked by public or official
rituals. But is it really legitimate to speak of a weakening of these rituals if we still associate
castration with them? Does this not mean that “circumcision” 21 remains the condition for our
acceptance into society?
Is it possible to maintain this conception of castratory socialization even though it has become
clear that social structures might—but not primarily— limit the individual? Does it not contradict
Kristeva’s own notion of moderate initiation? The main accomplishment of social order and
symbolic structures should be to regulate our communal life and to provide support and orienta-
tion for the individual. Is castration a critical concept that denounces a violent socializing practice
or does it, conversely, imply the unnecessary acceptance of limitation, and as it were,
“circumcision”? Or must we understand this choice of words as a tribute to something that
exceeds our grasp, something that hurts us without our knowing why? Does the term castration
acknowledge that social acceptance usually does not happen as smoothly as our theoretical
conceptions suggest? Is it meant to indicate that freedom from domination remains utopian and
that some people will always manage to profit at the expense of others?
80 Hypatia
If that is so, it seems important to at least imagine our entry into society in a different way.
Perhaps it will never be possible to shape it in any other way than as a “circumcision” of the
capacities of individuals. Perhaps we will just not live to see this possibility realized. In any case,
it is important to point out that the term castration—including symbolic castration—harbors more
than the problem of how we accept mortality, sexuality, and dependence.
Let me remind you of the two senses of violence that Weir finds in Kristeva’s work. Should this
ambiguity not be indicated by two different words? Do we really want to grant society the right to
“circumcise” its members by claiming that initiation is always castration? Even if a pessimistic view of
culture is appro- priate, I think that it is important to state very clearly—thereby activating a human
ability that I would like to label, freely adapted from Musil, as a sense of possibility
(Möglichkeitssinn) (see Musil 1996, 10–13)—that a world that can do without actual or symbolic
circumcisions is definitely preferable.
There are two further reasons for avoiding the talk of castration. It seems to me that from a
feminist perspective the castration model can only have limited explanatory force. Renate
Schlesier, for example, has criticized Freud’s castration model of anxiety, as it is especially
clearly laid out in the case study of Little Hans. She argues that the fear of being deserted and the
fear of not being loved are far greater than the fear of castration (see Schlesier 1990). Even if these
emotions are understood as reactions to a castration in the broader sense, we must still ask the
question whether the terminology is necessary and to the point. Does not an approach that
continues to work with the castration model of socialization fall behind these insights?
Moreover, given their experience of having been treated as the “castrated sex,” women should
know better than to accept their own status as castrated and thus to confirm secret male anxieties
that women want to become castrators themselves. The point, after all, is to develop a philosophy that
does not engage in a power struggle or in castration. If a feminist theory contains castrating ele-
ments, it should at least not consider castration a principle. Instead, I think of these castrating
elements as self-misunderstandings still in need of clarification or as reactions to patriarchal
oppression that must be overcome.
In Symbolic Castration: A Question, Kristeva herself relativizes and questions the concept of
castration (1995, 87–102). She even admits that it is her own perversion that makes her stay with
this choice of words. However, much is still left open. Why does she choose to stick with the term
castration? Why is she not aware—at least at this point—of the implications of her own
argument? Why does she not differentiate between a necessary acceptance of lack and
unnecessary constraints? Why does she not use her own concept’s potential for a critique of society?
Isn’t the very usage of the term castration indebted to a logic still characterized by a confusion of
creative potency and phallic power?
Bettina Schmitz 81
As long as the possibility of having an effect on society is understood in exclusively phallic terms,
it makes sense to talk about castration. To change this understanding would require that the
critical potential of the concept be elaborated and the logic of victimization (Weir) be rejected.
Kristeva’s approach precisely provides the means for an investigation of these connections.
At this point, the Lacanian concept of castration can be turned into a tool of critique, similar to the
Freudian concept of penis envy. This finally enables us to clarify the concept, according to which
we conceive our social institu- tions.22 After the initial moment of shock, we can now start to reflect
upon why the concept is still in use. In this way, it can serve to uncover underlying
presuppositions and—I am being optimistic here—to change them. It must be possible to modify
the concept of castration, and maybe to dispose of it altogether, without thereby ignoring the
interdependence of all human beings, without trying to cover up one’s own imperfection, and
without pretending to be perfect and immortal. This intention goes hand in hand with the hope
that the rejection of the concept might bring forth the opportunity to develop a better form of
socially organized communal life. I believe that the concept of symbolic castration is dangerous
because its martial metaphoric connotation seems to lend itself to a justification of social
constraints that “circumcise” the individual to an unnecessary extent. 23 It is still indebted to a logic
that might not act out the entry into society in violent rituals but that still assumes and justifies
them.
We are in need of a new idea that allows us to conceive of the entry into society in a way that lets
us acknowledge its violent moments and give them their place. This idea would not require that
we justify a society based on vio- lence but would allow us to turn its violent moments, as much
as we can, into positive elements.24
Social Life Without Castration
Finally I would like to briefly turn to contemporary accounts that allude to such a social theory. An
exemplary selection of such accounts can be found in the volume Politische Theorie, Differenz
und Lebensqualität (Political Theory, Difference, and Quality of Life) (Nagl-Docekal and Pauer-
Studer 1996). Jane Flax in particular emphasizes that affective bonds with others are much more
important for individuality and sociality than the social function of denial. She therefore invokes
Winnicott and says: “Unlike Freud or Lacan, Winnicott does not conceptualize symbolization and
culture itself as something alien to the individual, imposed over and against the inner self. Nor is
culture built out of the repression and sublimation of instinctual impulses or from a logic purely
external to those subjected to it. Culture arises out of that third space remaining
82 Hypatia
within us, giving us pleasure and a sense of aliveness and continuity. However, in Winnicott’s view
each relatively healthy individual experiences conflicts that are endemic to human subjectivity. Each of
us must engage in lifelong processes of reconciling self and other and inner and outer realities”
(1992, 203, 204).
The self is nothing but the process of this reconciliation. Despite her use of the term castration,
we can find the rudiments of such a model of a social self in Kristeva as well. The idea of a
subject that emerges from the mirror stage leads, according to Flax, to a reconciliation of internal
and external realities. A political culture can and must ensue from this reconciliation. We could
augment this view with Kristeva’s conception of language and subjectivity—both located in precisely
this space of transition. Kristeva’s sketch of a subject-in-process can be complemented by Flax’s
idea of justice-in-process. We could even say that these two models condition each other
because they conceive of one and the same process: one from the perspective of the individual
and the other from the perspective of society.25
The idea that justice requires for its realization a process, namely that the administration of justice
in terms of trials and procedures is part of the leg- islative branch, is not at all alien to the legal
system. The reconfigurations of social structures initiated by the women’s movement (including
changes of the traditional understanding of a sexual division of labor, and in accordance, of the
division between the public and the private sphere) constitute a special chal- lenge for this process
of determining justice. The status of citizenship is not any longer a male privilege. At the same time,
structures on the side of the subject are changing as well; matters for a long time beyond the
reach of the power of the state are not any longer considered a private affair. The transitional realm in
which the mediation between subject and state is unfolding (and in which both actually constitute
themselves) has to be cultivated in order to avoid indifference toward the subject as well as
infringements through the state. The relationship between the subject and its institutions has to
be balanced out again and again anew. It is in particular up to the subject-in-process to initiate
reflections on gender difference and to make sure that those reflections are integrated into the
process of determining justice. In turn, this continuous intervention will have an effect on the
reemergence of subjectivity itself.
At first, my intention was to complement Lacan’s notion of the subject with Kristeva’s account by
means of an investigation of the genesis of subjective structures in the affective exchange with
others. The historical and emotional elements are not only constitutive for language acquisition but
also sustained in all speech and writing. The way to an expanded notion of language and subject must
be pushed further toward an understanding of society embedded in the event of language.
Kristeva points to such an understanding but this does not suffice. When discussing the problems
of the concept of symbolic castration, we could see most acutely that we have to fathom the
reciprocal influence of
Bettina Schmitz 83
individual and society. Lack can be understood and sensed as the mutual depen- dence of all human
beings. It also makes itself felt as the necessity with which our own needs and desires find both
their limitation and their fulfillment in the needs and desires of others. However, we should not
give up the hope for a sufficiently good society that does not need to castrate its members, even
though we might never feel entirely at home in an existing society.
Notes
This text was originally published as “Heimatlosigkeit oder symbolische Kastration? Subjektivität,
Sprachgenese und Sozialität bei Julia Kristeva und Jacques Lacan” in Rationalität und Prärationalität:
Festschrift für Alfred Schöpf. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 1998. We want to thank Königshausen
& Neumann for their permission to publish this text.
1. Ofcourse,onecanpresentKristeva’sapproachinmanydifferentways.Especially her development of four types of
text in Revolution in Poetic Language shows very clearly how she is both inspired by Lacan and yet also
modifies his concepts (see Kristeva 1984, 90–106). Kristeva herself points out that her distinction is inspired
by Lacan’s four types of discourse, but she also stresses that the two sets of distinctions cannot be
identified.
2. I do not find it very helpful to praise Kristeva’s approach for its greater “open- ness” as Inge Suchsland
does in her Julia Kristeva zur Einführung (1992, 81). It seems that Suchsland’s claim overlooks the potential
of the Lacanian approach.
3. Dosse cites such thinkers as Gerard Mendel, who maintains that Lacan’s theory ultimately marks the loss of
the unconscious (116), and Pierre Fougeyrollas, who criti- cizes Lacan’s notion of desire for its complete
separation from all physiological reality (121).
4. Kristeva’s oeuvre can be divided into three phases. Then her approach can be elucidated in the light of
the development of her concept of ‘intertextuality’ or (later) ‘transposition.’ The first phase is characterized by
her interest in linguistics and literature on the one hand, and by her treatment of Baktin on the other. In this
time, Kristeva writes texts that are published in the E0:,4TJ460 volume (1969) as well as Le texte du roman
(1970). The second phase (Revolution in Poetic Language, 1984) is characterized by the development of her own
linguistic conception. The essays published in the Polylogue volume (1977) fall into this phase, in which the
psychoanalytic influence on Kristeva is beginning to emerge. During the third phase, psychoanalysis
becomes significant for her also in a more practical manner. At that time, the aspect of experience
dominates Kristeva’s work, and she is less interested in presenting a theory as such. The conception of language
from Revolution in Poetic Language remains valid and an indispensable point of reference for her writings of the
third phase—I will leave Kristeva’s novels aside in this article. For a more comprehensive account see
Schmitz (1998).
5. Alfred Schöpf puts Lacan’s work into this context (see 1983). Elisabeth Roudi- nesco also emphasizes
this interest of Lacan’s (see 1999, for example, 171 and 284).
84 Hypatia
6. Despite several similarities, one cannot straightforwardly compare Levinas and Kristeva. Ewa Ziarek
makes such an attempt (see 1993).
7. Thisdoesnotmeanthatwithinhertheorytherewouldbenodifferencebetween what is said and what is not said. A
transposition takes place between those two spheres which is, however, not of central concern for Kristeva.
8. On subjectivity in this context see also Schöpf 1984. Lacan, at one point, seems to be opposed to this notion
of a subject when he stresses that the subject cannot be defined as a subject of utterance because the
subject does not even know that it speaks when it makes the utterance (“The subversion of the subject and
the dialectic of desire in the Freudian unconscious,” 1977, 314). Kristeva’s conception of a subject must not
be oversimplified. It is of particular interest for her to question the subject regarding the unconscious. This
view is certainly compatible with Lacan’s critique of the subject as subject of utterance that implies a
distinction between sujet de l’énoncé and sujet de l’énonciation. In terms of psychoanalytic therapy, this
means that the subject of true speech must, so to speak, first be born (Roudinesco 1999, 217). At this point,
however, one has to be careful with comparisons because, although “word language” (Wortsprache) is
paradigmatic for language in general, Kristeva’s notion of language transcends this paradigm. In accordance
with semiotics, the concept of language can be extended to other sign languages. Thus, mute persons can
certainly not be regarded as lacking language and therefore as incapable of being subjects. The discussion
that could and maybe should ensue from this problem reminds of a debate during the eighteenth century about
mute and deaf persons (see Bezold 1984, 46–57).
9. One can see this clearly in Claude Lefort’s objection against Lévi-Strauss. Com- menting on The Elemental
Structures of the Family, Lefort accuses Lévi-Strauss of taking the mathematical model for more real than reality
itself (see Lefort 1951 and Dosse 1997, 31). Whether Lefort’s criticism is justified cannot be discussed here.
Regardless, structuralism acquires a new awareness of the insight, originally attributable to Kant, that there
is no reality for us outside of the structures that we ourselves provide.
10. Notice that this modification essentially alters Saussure’s model.
11. With her emphasis on emotionality, Kristeva joins André Green’s critique of Lacan (Green 1999). Green
even concludes: “For me, Lacan gives an anti-Freudian version of the unconscious” (quoted in Dosse 1997,
247).
12. Saussure uses this distinction in order to stress the limits on the other side. He wants to emphasize that
he was not talking about real things but about representations of objects. To claim that Kristeva wants to
reintroduce the real thing—whatever that might be—to language, would be to misunderstand her entirely.
On the contrary, her theory of the process of signification is an attempt to clarify how our representations of
things are constituted by and in language.
13. On the mirror stage see also Pagel (1989). Lacan’s essay on the mirror stage, whose Marienbad version
is lost, still found its way into the Ecrits thanks to the extraor- dinary efforts of Francois Wahl (Lacan 1977, 1–7).
On the history of the edition of this article see Roudinesco 1999 and Pagel and Weiß 1991.
14. Kristeva stresses that the semiotic is regulated by an ordering (ordonnancement) while the symbolic is
ruled by law (loi) (1984, 26–27).
15. “I have posited the logical and chronological priority of the symbolic in any
Bettina Schmitz 85
organization of the semiotic (into a structure but also a ‘chora,’ a receptacle)” (Kristeva 1983, 34).
16. Just think of the different views on how babies should be dressed, how and when they should be fed, when
they should be toilet trained. See also Lévi-Strauss (1987, 4). 17. With regards to the problem of castration,
Roudinesco argues that Lacan did not live according to his own doctrine. Her judgment becomes especially
clear when she states: “Lacan would hold forth with great subtlety on the subject of castration and often
described to his patients and pupils the dangers of believing in the omnipotence of the
ego, but it never occurred to him to apply this wisdom to himself” (1999, 247–48). 18. Her discussion of the
notion of the mother in Stabat Mater shows further under-
standing of this ambivalence (Kristeva 1987). 19. For a discussion of this question see Glass 1994, in
particular p. 23, on the ques-
tion of identity in Kristeva. 20. Beside Rendtorff see also David 1975 and Schmitz 1996. 21. The German
term for “circumcision” (Beschneidung) is not restricted to medi-
cal usage but refers also to any form of restriction and limitation. The use of the term here and in the
following passages is to be understood within this broader context of meaning. J.J.
22. The same applies to the notion of penis envy, an equally obvious example of a patriarchal construction
of femininity that may be used as a tool of critique.
23. A critical investigation of rituals of circumcision in other cultures—for example, female genital mutilation—
shows that circumcision is not meant only symbolically, nor does it apply only to men.
24. I am thinking of qualitative differences, such as can be found in Bion with refer- ence to L, H, and K (love,
hate, and knowledge), each of which Bion describes both in a positive (+) and in a negative (-) version. See
Bion 1992.
25. Although a discussion of this connection exceeds the framework of this article, I would like to point out
that it would be most interesting to investigate the relation between Flax’s idea of a justice-in-process and
discourse ethics. A possible point of departure would be Seyla Benhabib 1992.
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