I had arrived at the all too probably named Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at the Naropa Institute past its ostensible heyday. Founded in 1974 by Waldman and her “spiritual husband” Allen Ginsberg, the school had the reputation of a mountain retreat for the Beat Poets, and their friends in the New York School, and their friends in the Black Mountain school, and their friends in the New Narrative school.
The analyst is enjoined not to hate. Or at least, not in the way the patient is permitted on the couch. Psychoanalysis has historically set neutrality as a goal: to contain the feeling mind and its history, the analyst must bracket the world, their sociality, desires. The only problem is this is impossible, especially if we concede that there is something called an unconscious.