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The otherness of sexuality: Exploring the

conflicted nature of drive, desire and object choice

Siri Erika Gullestad

To cite this article: Siri Erika Gullestad (2020) The otherness of sexuality: Exploring the conflicted
nature of drive, desire and object choice, The International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 101:1, 64-83,
DOI: 10.1080/00207578.2019.1686390

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Published online: 06 Mar 2020.

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INT J PSYCHOANAL
2020, VOL. 101, NO. 1, 64–83
[Link]

The otherness of sexuality: Exploring the conflicted nature of

drive, desire and object choice
Siri Erika Gullestad
Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway

ABSTRACT KEYWORDS
This article explores how the psychoanalytic drive theories of Freud, Psychosexuality; drive; desire;
Laplanche and Lacan elucidate the conflicted nature of desire and otherness; love psychology
object choice. In a close reading of Freud’s Three Essays on the
Theory of Sexuality (1905), I emphasize the inherent tension in
Freud’s thinking between the non-object-relatedness and object-
relatedness of drive, as well as the conflictual path of object
choice. Through discussion of Laplanche’s theory of the origin and
nature of the drive, I underline the significance of the
unconscious, enigmatic messages of the object. I argue that
Freud, Laplanche and Lacan, although in different ways, convey
an idea of sexuality’s otherness. This otherness may contribute to
highlight divisions in the sphere of love, e.g. splits between
sexuality and attachment so often encountered in clinical practice,
when erotic desire comes into conflict with the need for a safe
and stable relationship. The article aims at explicating the clinical
value of a listening perspective entrenched in drive theory for
understanding the ambivalence, conflicts and paradoxes of
human object choice.

Introduction
In 1995 Green posed the question: “Has sexuality anything to do with psychoanalysis?” In a
seminal article he argued that sexuality had lost its place as a centre of psychoanalytic
theory—a place now occupied by object-relations (Green 1995). Green’s claim seems to
be supported by Fonagy’s (2008) analysis of references to sexuality (including body
parts, sexual orientation and behaviour as well as theoretical discussion of sexuality) in
English-speaking psychoanalytic journals: between 1925 and 2000, the number of refer-
ences decreased dramatically. In an IJP editorial in 2016, Birksted-Breen, reminding us of
Freud’s complaint that he was accused of being too “one-sided in our estimation of the
sexual impulse” (Freud 1920), asks if it has gone the other way: has sexuality virtually dis-
appeared from contemporary psychoanalytic thinking and literature (Birksted-Breen
2016)?
It seems warranted to say that the so-called relational turn has weakened the idea of
sexuality as a dominant driving force in human life. At the same time, in an era where

CONTACT Siri Erika Gullestad [Link]@[Link] Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Box
1094, Blindern, 0317 Oslo, Norway
© 2019 Institute of Psychoanalysis
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 65

sexuality, in manifold forms, seems to be everywhere, we, perhaps more than ever, need
the complex conceptualization of drive embedded in psychoanalytic theory.
In this article, I explore how the psychoanalytic drive theories of Freud, Laplanche and
Lacan elucidate the conflicted nature of desire and object choice. In a close reading of
Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality (Freud 1905), I emphasize the inherent tension in
Freud’s thinking between the non-object-relatedness and object-relatedness of drive, as
well as the conflictual path of object choice. Through discussion of Laplanche’s theory
of the origin and nature of the drive, I underline the significance of the unconscious, enig-
matic messages of the object. I argue that Freud, Laplanche and Lacan, although in
different ways, convey an idea of sexuality’s otherness. This otherness may contribute to
highlight divisions in the sphere of love, e.g. splits between sexuality and attachment so
often encountered in clinical practice, when erotic desire comes into conflict with the
need for a safe and stable relationship. Thus, the article aims at explicating the clinical
value of a listening perspective entrenched in drive theory for understanding the ambiva-
lence, conflicts and paradoxes of human object choice.

Drive and relation

Freud defines drive (Trieb1) as a psychic representation of impulses and stimulations from
inside—an inner bodily tension implying a pressure for relief. Lying on the “frontier
between the mental and the physical” (Freud 1905, 168), drives have no given quality,
but are regarded as “a measure of the demand made upon the mind for work” (168).
In this article, I limit the discussion of drive to Freud’s first drive theory, implying a dis-
tinction between self-preservation and sexual drive.2 According to Laplanche and Pon-
talis (1971), the Freudian concept of drive is most accurately delineated through a
description of human sexuality—or more precisely human psychosexuality, as the
body is always mediated by the psychical—as seeking pleasure. Sexuality is not
limited to genital pleasure, but is present from birth as lust attached to various eroto-
genic zones. This pleasure seeking, also named libido, which is expressed in countless
masked and displaced forms, is a fundamental driving force in human life—the pleasure
principle. In Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality (Freud 1905),3 Freud disputes the con-
ventional view of sexuality as being absent in childhood, and beginning only in puberty,
the aim of which being sexual union and reproduction. The conventional folk-wisdom is
challenged through observation of what Freud called “infantile sexuality,” implying a
paradigm shift by turning the common view of sexuality upside down (Gammelgaard
and Zeuthen 2010).
In a rigorous reading of Three Essays, Blass (2016) demonstrates that this paper reveals a
foundational tension in Freud’s thinking on the nature of sexuality. More specifically,
Freud’s text comprises a contradiction between sexuality as inherently object-related
1
In his translation, Strachey failed to differentiate between the German concepts of Trieb and Instinkt and translated both
terms as “a term that does not capture the specificity of human psychosexuality. When quoting Freud I will write “instinct
drive,” to make clear that “drive” theory is not “instinct” theory.
2
Later, in Beyond the Pleasure Principle (Freud 1920), the concept death drive is introduced, as well as the assumption of a
conflict between life drive (Eros) and death drive (Thanatos). Here, it is a question of fundamental theoretical principles
rather than concrete motivational forces (Laplanche and Pontalis 1971).
3
Three Essays is described by Strachey (1953), in his introduction to the English translation, as Freud’s “most momentous
and original contribution to human knowledge.”
66 S. E. GULLESTAD

and at the same time as inherently independent of such relatedness. Let us first look at the
idea of non-object-relatedness. Discussing the object of the drive, Freud concludes:
We are thus warned to loosen the bond that exists in our thoughts between instinct drive and
object. It seems probable that the sexual instinct drive is in the first instance independent of its
object; nor is its origin likely to be due to its object’s attraction. (Freud 1905, 147–148)

Thus, the object of the drive is not given—the object is not integral to the drives from the
start. What is constant in the drive is something other than the object: “the nature and
importance of the sexual object recedes into the background. What is essential and con-
stant in the sexual instinct drive is something else” (Freud 1905, 49). The drive is here por-
trayed as a kind of objectless force—as it was hailed in Dionysian feasts in ancient Greece.4
The tension in Freud’s thinking about sexuality is clearly present also in his discussion of
infantile sexuality. A prime example of infantile sexuality is thumb sucking—so-called
“sensual sucking.” A small child sucking is completely absorbed in autoerotic pleasure pro-
vided by the child’s own body:
It must be insisted that the most striking feature of this sexual activity is that the instinct drive
is not directed towards other people, but obtains satisfaction from the subject’s own body. It is
“auto-erotic,” to call it by a happily chosen term introduced by Havelock-Ellis (1910). (Freud
1905, 181)

However, at the same time Freud emphasizes that autoerotism originates in an earlier
object-relationship: thumb sucking is
determined by a search for some pleasure which has already been experienced and is now
remembered. … It is also easy to guess the occasion on which the child had its first experi-
ences of the pleasure which he is now striving to renew. (181)

Sexual drive obtains satisfaction through an object—namely the mother’s breast—and

thus precedes thumb sucking. As Freud remarks in a much-cited sentence, “sexual activity
attaches itself (Anlehnung) to functions serving the purpose of self-preservation and does
not become independent of them until later” (Freud 1905, 182).5
Blass (2016) maintains that psychoanalytic literature, which has for the most part put
emphasis on the object-directed part of Freud, has not highlighted the inherent conflict
between the objectless and the object-directed view of the sexual drive. The idea of auto-
eroticism being founded on an earlier object-relationship has been specifically underlined
by the Kleinians, as when Heimann (1952) writes about the infant’s autoerotic sucking that
it “rests” upon an experience with an object—the mother’s breast—which he later “repro-
duces auto-erotically” (Heimann 1952, 145). Also, Laplanche and Pontalis (1971) state that
autoeroticism implies a primary anaclitic relationship with the self-preservative drive
(hunger), which is satisfied through an object—namely the mother’s breast. Only when
it becomes detached from hunger does the oral sexual drive lose its object and,
thereby, becomes autoerotic. In this perspective, the thumb is a substitution for the
mother’s breast.

4
“The ancients laid the stress upon the instinct drive itself, whereas we emphasize the object. The ancients glorified the
instinct drive and were prepared on its account to honour even an inferior object; while we despise the instinctual-
drive activity in itself, and find excuses of it only in the merits of the object” (footnote added 1910; Freud 1905, 149).
5
As noted by Strachey, this sentence was added in 1915.
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 67

Freud’s assertion that the sucking baby falling asleep with a blissful smile has become
“the prototype of every relation of love” (Freud 1905, s. 222) also seems to underline the tie
between drive and object. Freud here concludes: “The finding of an object is in fact a
refinding of it” (222). However, also on this point Freud’s text seems ambiguous. When
he talks about the satisfaction at the mother’s breast as a prototype of every relation of
love, it is not clear whether he means the mother’s breast, i.e. the organ, or the mother’s
breast, that is, an object in the sense of a person (Blass 2016). On the one hand, the
tender relationship to an object is underlined. On the other hand, the object comes
forward as a source of stimulation of erotogenic zones—a somewhat instrumental descrip-
tion of the mother: “The child’s lips, in our view, behave like an erotogenic zone, and no
doubt stimulation by the warm flow of milk is the cause of the pleasurable sensation”
(Freud 1905, 181). As noted by Blass (2016), Freud seems to shift between “a personal
and loving form of relatedness to the object to a detached use of the object as a
source of stimulation of the erotogenic zones” (599).
As concerns the intrinsic tension in the Three Essays, it also seems relevant to consider
Freud’s discussion of the object of the drive and drive aims. The conformist assumption
that the sexual drive is directed towards persons of the opposite sex with the aim of
sexual union and reproduction is challenged by observations of other kinds of object
choice than heterosexual—bisexual, homosexual or sexual attraction to children.6
Certainly, clinical experience demonstrates that neither is the aim of the drive given.
People can have other drive aims than sexual intercourse. Sexual activity that uses
other parts of the body than the genitals, like mouth, nipples or anus, or that lingers in
so-called fore-pleasure, express what Freud calls “component drives.” These he names
“perverse” (Freud 1905, 150). According to Freud, in this wide definition perversion is
not pathological. We all have component drives and pleasure derived from various eroto-
genic zones:
No healthy person, it appears, can fail to make some addition that might be called perverse to
the normal sexual aim; and the universality of this finding is in itself enough to show how inap-
propriate it is to use the term perversion as a term of reproach. (160)

Hence Freud has a neutral stance on the value of sexual practice (Moss 2014; Scarfone
2014). Rather, it is lack of tolerance for the perverse that leads to neurosis: “Thus symptoms
are formed in part at the cost of abnormal sexuality; neuroses are, so to say, the negative of
perversions” (Freud 1905, 165).
Summing up, psychosexuality as a driving force refers to pleasure seeking,7 which must
be distinguished from sexuality as a reproductive function. Pleasure seeking takes mani-
fold forms and has different non-genital expressions in all of us. Bisexual and homosexual
desires as well as rude, obscene fantasies are part of human eroticism. The roads of desire

6
Indeed, Freud observes that “sexual abuse of children is found with uncanny frequency” (Freud 1905, s. 148). This is inter-
esting to notice, considering the strong critique of Freud’s theory during the 1990s. Critics maintained that Freud, by
abandoning his theory of seduction in favour of the Oedipal conflict (Masson 1984), deserted sexually abused women
and children. However, this quotation shows that Freud never abandoned the knowledge of childhood sexual abuse.
7
Laplanche, discussing the ambiguity of Freud’s use of the German term Lust (translated as pleasure), points out that Lust
may denote both “pleasure” and “desire” (Laplanche 2007, 14). “Pleasure seeking” is often understood as discharge of
tension, whereas “desire” rather denotes seeking of excitement. According to Laplanche, the translation of Lust as plea-
sure loses the ambiguity in Freud’s text.
68 S. E. GULLESTAD

are multifarious! Stein speaks about “the normative abnormality of sexuality” (Stein 2008,
47).
What role does the object have in the development of sexuality? In line with Blass
(2016), there is in my reading an inherent tension in Freud’s essay on sexuality,
between the objectless and the object-directed view of the sexual drive. When I stress
this tension, it is because it is a question of two quite different perspectives—perhaps
incompatible, in the last instance. On the one hand stands the idea of a primary, non-per-
sonal drive: man is not born tabula rasa, but with an inborn driving force coming from
within, and that cannot be completely explained through relationships to objects.8 As
humans we are confronted with something other in ourselves, something alien, a poly-
morph wildness. It is question of a raw, gratification-seeking, impersonal force that consti-
tutes sexuality’s otherness. In the words of Fenichel (1940), Freud’s discovery was that
“within the human mind there are ‘ego-alien’ forces which … burst in upon the personality
like elemental catastrophes. They are in fact natural forces … ” (117). On the other hand
stands the idea of sexuality and drive being directed towards the object. The tension
between drive and relationship vibrates in Freud’s essay, which is revolutionary in the
way it brings us in touch with both our interior tension and the force the drive represents.

The question of object choice

How does the tension between autoeroticism and object-relatedness affect object choice?
In Freud’s (1905) account, the process of the child’s choice of an object is diphasic, that is, it
occurs in two waves (200). The first wave (between ages two and five), characterized by the
infantile nature of sexual aims, comes to “a halt or a retreat” (200) by the latency period.
The second wave sets in with puberty and determines the final outcome of sexual life.
During latency, infantile sexual aims are mitigated and expressed in what Freud calls
the “affectionate current” of sexual life; in puberty, object choice starts afresh as a
“sensual current.” The affectionate current, i.e. affectionate feelings directed to family
members who take care of the child, is the older of the two currents, and corresponds
to the child’s primary object choice (Freud 1912, 180). However, from the very beginning,
the affectionate relationship carries with it contributions from the sexual drives, “attaching
themselves to the valuations made by the ego instincts” (180). Moreover, the parents’ ero-
ticism is of great importance for the child’s object cathexes: “The ‘affection’ shown by the
child’s parents … seldom fails to betray its erotic nature (‘the child is an erotic play thing’)”
(181).9
Freud emphasizes that normal sexual life requires an “exact convergence” (Freud 1905,
207) of the affectionate and the sensual current: “It is like the completion of a tunnel which
has been driven through a hill from both directions” (207). This is the phase of the second
object choice. In childhood, the sexual drive, i.e. satisfaction of component drives, is pre-
dominantly autoerotic (207) and not connected to one specific object. In puberty,
however, all the component drives and the various forms of pleasure seeking are joined
together under the “primacy of the genital zone” (207). The drive is now directed
towards one specific object, chosen as one’s preferred sexual object. Only then, Freud
8
Laplanche (1970) develops a different idea (that I will come back to), implying that drive is “implanted” by the other.
9
Laplanche (1997) develops this point further.
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 69

says when discussing this issue in a later meta-psychological essay (Freud 1915), it
becomes appropriate to speak about “love” of the object: “we are not in the habit of
saying of a single sexual instinct drive that it loves its object” (Freud 1915, 137), rather
we say about instinct drives that they need their objects. Love (and hate) “are reserved
for the relations of the total ego to its objects” (137). Thus, love and drive are two
different entities (Gammelgaard 2011).

Divisions in the sphere of love

Certainly, the linking of the affective and the sensual currents of mental life represents a
significant challenge in the development of the child’s object-relatedness. Should the two
currents fail to converge, the result is often that one of the “ideals of sexual life, the focus-
ing of all desires upon one single object, will be unattainable” (Freud 1905, s. 200). Freud’s
(1910, 1912) studies of the psychology of love explore cases of such failing. To my mind,
these studies are of great interest for conceptualizing human love, so often divided and
fragmented: sexual drives and affective love do not join, and they are not directed
towards a unique person; rather, love life is split between different objects. The result is,
as Freud states it: “Where they love they do not desire, and where they desire they
cannot love” (Freud 1912, 183). How to understand such splits?
As I have discussed, from early on the child’s affectionate relationship to its caretakers
also carries eroticism, which in this period is diverted from its sexual aim. At the age of
puberty, the sexual drive, now getting stronger, will follow “earlier paths” and will
“cathect the objects of the primary infantile choice” (Freud 1912, 181). However, here it
runs upon an obstacle, namely the barrier against incest. Consequently, the drive will
make efforts to pass on from these objects, which are unsuitable in reality, and seek
new “extraneous objects with which a real sexual life may be carried on” (181). Freud
here cites the biblical demand that a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave
unto his wife—only then can affection and sensuality be united. When this course of
development fails, it may be because libido remains, unconsciously, attached to an inces-
tuous, forbidden object: “The libido turns away from reality, is taken over by imaginative
activity … , strengthens the images of the first sexual objects and becomes fixated to
them” (182). The obstacle raised against incest, however, compels the libido that has
turned to these objects to remain in the unconscious, whereas in reality the person
seeks sexual objects that do not recall the forbidden, incestuous figures, in order to
keep their sensuality away from objects they love.
Freud’s (1912) analysis of psychic impotence, where a man seeks sexual satisfaction by
prostitutes, but is impotent with his wife, provides an example of such unconscious
dynamics. Because libido has unconsciously attached itself to mother or sister—i.e. to
incestuous objects—the result is a split in the sphere of love between “sacred and
profane” (Freud 1912, 183). The love object (wife) is overvalued and turned into a
Madonna-figure (not desired, and thus protected against forbidden erotic wishes),
whereas sexual desire is directed towards a prostitute (debased, not loved).
If the choice of a love object hides an incestuous object, the fulfilment of wishes may
lead to paradoxical reactions.
In a study of Henrik Ibsen’s drama Rosmersholm, Freud (1916) highlights how Rebecca
West responds with anguish when she conquers Rosmer, the man she wants and that she
70 S. E. GULLESTAD

has positioned herself to win. When Rosmer proposes to marry her, Rebecca declines. The
reason, according to Freud, is that her yearning for Rosmer conceals an unconscious, for-
bidden desire for an incestuous object. Rebecca has been the mistress of her stepfather,
and has just recognized that her stepfather is in reality her father. The result is unbearable
feelings of guilt. By fighting to win Rosmer, Rebecca has repeated an unconscious Oedipal
scenario—overthrowing mother in a rivalry about being father’s chosen one. Rebecca
West has previously, “step by step,” pushed Beate, Rosmer’s wife, into death.
Beate commits suicide by throwing herself in the waterfall of Møllefossen. The
realization of incestuous desire has fatal consequences for Rebecca. The drama Rosmer-
sholm ends with Rebecca and Rosmer committing suicide by throwing themselves into
Møllefossen.

Romantic love
In his studies of the psychology of love, Freud (1910, 1912, 1916) speculates that there is
“something in the nature of the sexual instinct drive itself [that] is unfavourable to the
realization of complete satisfaction” (Freud 1912, 188–189). As we have discussed, a
main factor, according to Freud, is the diphasic onset of object choice. Because of the inter-
position of the barrier against incest, the final object of the sexual drive is not any longer
the original object but only a surrogate for it. An endless series of substitutive objects may
then represent the original object, none of which, however, brings full satisfaction. New
objects are always different from the lost one, from the original; as a result, we do not
find in the object what we are unconsciously yearning for. This mismatch, between the
real object and the unconsciously longed for object, constitutes an obstacle to the fulfil-
ment of desire.
Indeed, Freud, discussing the characteristics of drive, explicitly states that an obstacle is
required for erotic intensity (Freud 1912, 187). Ibsen’s Rosmersholm, as already mentioned,
provides an example of this: as long as the desired object is unattainable, passion is main-
tained. When Rebecca has what she wants, she confronts inner obstacles to fulfilment of
her love. Another example is man’s love reaching a peak of passion when directed towards
a woman who is bound to another man and thus not easily accessible. (Here, aggression
and rivalry with other men is also satisfied.) It would seem that external obstacles serve the
function of keeping attention away from inner barriers.
The idea of an obstacle or hindrance touches on a theme that has a central place in
Western literature and history of ideas, in so-called Romantic love. This is a form of love
originating in the Age of Chivalry and the mystical love cult of the troubadours. The
knight devoted his life to a woman (la Dame), celebrated in the chivalric poetry.
Through her, he attained contact with the hereafter and was lifted away from the triviality
of this world (de Rougemont 1939, 1961). Romantic love, cultivating infatuation, longs for a
kind of passion that is not realizable in everyday life. The more unattainable the object is,
the more intense the love feeling. To uphold the tension, new obstacles are constantly
required. The Romantic hero loves not in spite of, but because of the pain caused by
passion (Gullestad 1979). Romantic love-couples’ love (Tristan and Iseult; Romeo and
Juliet) is socially condemned and the relationship is only accomplished in death. Freud’s
focus on the obstacle inherent in passionate love comes forward as highly relevant for
understanding the paradoxes and conflicts in the sphere of love. Clinical experience
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 71

demonstrates, repeatedly, that the coming together of love and sexual desire is most
difficult in human lives. I will return to this question.
There is, according to Freud, a still deeper hindrance to the full satisfaction of sexuality.
As we have discussed, the sexual drive initially consists of a wide range of component
drives, which are not united under the primacy of the genital zone until puberty. Now,
some components cannot be taken up into the instinct drive in its later forms. This is
the case of components drives like coprophilic or sadistic drives, which may be part of
erotic life, but which prove incompatible with our aesthetic standards (Freud 1912, 189).
As stated by Freud, all developmental processes affect only the upper layers of the
complex structure: “The fundamental processes which produce erotic excitation remain
unaltered” (189). And he goes on to say that the genitals themselves have not taken
part in the development of the human body in the direction of beauty: they have
remained animal, and thus love, too, has remained in essence just as animal as it ever
was: “The instincts drives of love are hard to educate” (189). The conclusion is that we
may need to reconcile ourselves to the idea that it is quite impossible to adjust the
claims of the sexual instinct drive to the demands of civilization (190).
In my discussion of Freud’s theory of sexuality, I have wanted to emphasize the inherent
tension between an object-related understanding of the sexual drive and certain visceral,
physical aspects of sexuality. This tension contributes to highlight the divisions in object
choice and, consequently, the splits between love and erotic desire. The paradoxes and
difficulties are, for me, captured in the metaphor of the otherness of sexuality. When we
are sexual, we confront something other in ourselves, something alien, a polymorph wild-
ness. A raw, gratification-seeking, impersonal force constitutes sexuality’s otherness. That
we yearn for an “unconscious other” in the other that we love represents a different aspect
of otherness. Laplanche further explores this kind of otherness.

The unconscious other

Laplanche (1970, 1997) characterizes Western philosophy as “the philosophy of the
subject”—a way of thinking that does not recognize the “otherness” of the other. Although
Freud discovered the otherness of the unconscious (das Andere), psychoanalysis has yet to
acknowledge that internal otherness is founded upon external otherness (der Andere)
(Laplanche 1997, 654). On this background, Laplanche returns to Freud’s theory of seduc-
tion, “which has to be rediscovered and refounded” (ibid., 654). The other—der Andere—is
first and foremost the adult, a seducer.
To understand the origins of sexuality, Laplanche takes as a point of departure what he
calls Freud’s “autoerotic moment.” This is the moment when the mother’s breast is lost,
and the child turns towards himself. From now on, the breast, which is elaborated in a
blend of perception and fantasy called “phantasmatization” (le fantasme), replaces the
functional object. In this instant, when fantasy replaces the object, psychosexuality is
born. However—and this is an important point—the “phantasmatic” sexual breast is not
identical to the functional breast, but displaced in relation to it. Thus, the object we
seek cannot be recovered. Yet humans’ quest for the lost and the unattainable is a
mighty theme in life and literature.
While both Freud (1905, 120) and Laplanche emphasize that mother is the first seducer,
and that the fantasies colouring the individual’s sexual desires and dreams are
72 S. E. GULLESTAD

fundamentally marked by the mother, Laplanche in strong terms refers to the mother’s
unconscious transmission of her sexuality to her baby. Through the interplay with the
child, the mother puts a “mark” on it. Her interaction with the child is imbued by her
sexual unconscious, thus “seducing” her child. The child will, according to Laplanche,
experience mother’s sexuality as enigmatic messages. With a metaphor, mother carries
a Mona Lisa smile, exciting and vaguely attracting, which can only be interpreted nachträ-
glich. The sexual messages remain partly un-symbolized and persist in the child as an
element of irreducible otherness. Thus, the child’s sexuality is established through the
unconscious, fantasized sexuality of the other. It is the mother who introduces the child
to the language of desire.
Certainly, Laplanche emphasizes the object line of Freud’s thinking about sexuality. Like
Freud, he highlights how autoerotic sucking contains an unconscious fantasy of the lost
breast.10 However, Laplanche’s approach in a more radical way emphasizes the role of
the other: in his conception, “the other” becomes the very source of the drive. Moreover,
underlining that a linear build-up of tension followed by discharge does not characterize
the drive, he points out that the drive rather seeks excitation in a kind of circular process
implying the other. The source of the drive is no longer solely a bodily-based pressure, but
overlaps with the object in what Laplanche calls object-source. Drive, which Laplanche
refers to as “pulsion sexuelle,” is infantile sexuality—“Freud’s great discovery” (Laplanche
2007, 19)—and has to be distinguished from “instinct sexuel” (English: “instinct”) emerging
at puberty, which is biologically coded. The emphasis is on drive as an effect of the implan-
tation in the child of mother’s unconsciously transmitted eroticism. It is this sexual drive
(pulsion) that is the object of psychoanalysis.
In line with Freud, Laplanche underscores the plasticity of human sexual drive. Sexuality
is anarchique (anarchistic), says Laplanche (2007, 6), and exceedingly more wide-ranging
than genital drive aiming at reproduction; it is mobile as to its aim and its objects, and
it reaches beyond sexual differences. Certainly, it is psychosexuality (Freud 1905), related
to and mediated by fantasy, which Laplanche in his last works calls le sexual (Laplanche
2007). The choice of new objects is modelled on infantile imagos—we tend to seek an
unconscious, lost other in the other we meet. On this point, Laplanche elaborates
Freud’s thinking by accentuating how erotic wishes are coloured by the mother’s uncon-
scious sexuality being transmitted to the child.
Thus, to put it in object-relational language, the primary interplay with the mother
figure constitutes a prototype for later relationships. Laplanche’s theory sensitizes us to
understanding that the way the mother touches her baby—how she rocks and sniffs,
her skin and warmth—will transmit her own sensuality, thus putting a “stamp” on the
child. Indeed, if mother’s erotic investment in the child’s body is lacking, the child will
be hindered in developing bodily pleasure and in experiencing her own desire in its fan-
tasmatic and symbolic dimension (Laplanche 1997; Gammelgaard and Zeuthen 2010). The
idea of the mother’s libidinal investment in the child may, in my view, be regarded as an
expansion of the qualities that a mother who is “alive” must possess, in contrast to what
Green (1983) calls the “dead” mother.

10
As noted by Blass (2016), Laplanche does not, however, notice the idea of non-object-relatedness which is also present in
Freud’s discussion of autoeroticism, and which is emphasized in this article.
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 73

The idea of early interplay representing prototypes for later relationships is also
explored by modern infant research. Through systematic studies of early mother–child
interaction, Stern (1973) demonstrates how intimacy is established in a nonverbal dialo-
gue. Via prolonged mutual gaze without speaking (177) and transcending of usual physical
“limits” of closeness, parents and child create a dyad-specific sensual language of sound,
gesture and rhythms, culminating in jubilatory thrills. The interplay shapes what Stern calls
“excitation envelopes” (178), which are later filled with erotic content and repeated in
adult love relationships. Early prototypes are stored as motoric memories or procedures,
and are expressed in form rather than content: erotic communication is an action
language. In contrast to Laplanche, Stern does not, however, deal with the unconscious
aspects of this interplay and communication.

Drive and desire

Lacan (1973), expanding on the early mother–child relationship, highlights the contrast
between drive and desire. While the drive “circulates,” so to say, independent of the
object, desire is directed towards another subject, i.e. towards a specific person. Here,
there is no longer a question of pure satisfaction, but of what we mean to the other
person. Desire implies a vulnerable position, surrendered to the other. In desire, there is
a lack—man’s desire is the desire of the other. When our conscious wishes are gratified,
there is still “something” that leaves us dissatisfied. It is this something that Lacan desig-
nates as desire. Desire is the difference that results from the subtraction of the appetite for
satisfaction from the demand for love. It is linked to a quest for a thing beyond represen-
tation, something that is not verbalized or symbolized—the lost yet unforgettable object
that continuously must be refound, i.e. the forbidden object of incestuous desire, the
mother. In fantasy, this “something” implies the ultimate pleasure, which Lacan calls jouis-
sance—a pleasure transcending the pleasure principle, and that expresses a longing for
the impossible and forbidden. Realization of this kind of pleasure in reality would be intol-
erable and dangerous—desire can have fatal repercussions. Thus, jouissance represents a
pleasure that cannot be symbolized (Lacan 1973; Stein 2008). Fantasy, for Lacan, is what
fills out the empty and insurmountable space between the subject and the object of
desire (Gammelgaard and Kristiansen 2017).
While the object of the drive is shifting, love has its origin in the early mother–child
relationship. In Lacan’s perspective, this relationship is “total” in the sense that the other
is for me and just for me—it is “total” in the sense of absence of lack. Because it is a
relationship where individuality is suspended, it is misleading to speak about a relation-
ship. As humans, we start life in an undifferentiated form, in a union with the other. Split-
ting of this union creates desire. This desire implies a search—not for the lost object, but
for the lost union. Hence, the little child’s pursuit of the mother implies a desire that can
never be satisfied—a quest for a union that is irretrievably lost. Yearning for fusion is also a
theme in Mahler’s developmental theory: humans harbour an “everlasting longing”
(Mahler, Pine, and Bergmann 1975, 227) from the cradle to the grave for an original
state of union. Love thus originates in the first relationships—forever lost and eternally
desired. Perhaps there is a line from here to the religious search for unio mystico? When
we are attracted to each other, we are often blind to the fact that what we wish for is
not what we desire. Therefore, we are often disappointed when we have what we wish for.
74 S. E. GULLESTAD

The otherness of sexuality

When Stein (1998a, 1998b, 2008) speaks of the otherness of sexuality, she refers to sexu-
ality as experience. Upholding that psychoanalysis lacks an experience-near examination of
sexual excitement, she emphasizes that human sexuality is unique: “we seem to ‘forget’ or
repress how different we are when we are sexual and how great the discrepancy is
between sexuality and daily life” (Stein 2008, 44). In eroticism, humans are in touch with
something archaic, a dramatically different state of consciousness (Bataille 1957), implying
an experience of “excess” and “otherness” (Stein 2008, 44), also containing the dark side of
sexuality. In line with Bataille, Stein underscores a parallel between erotic and religious-
mystical states of consciousness—the individual is transported beyond his usual
boundaries. The feeling of something dangerous and possibly shameful is inherent in
sexual intimacy, bringing us beyond ordinary cultural norms and conventions.
In this article, I use the term otherness in a different, although related, sense. Through
discussion of Three Essays, I have highlighted that sexual drive comes forward as an imper-
sonal, raw force coming from within: we are presented with something other, or alien, in
ourselves that may collide with other needs and wishes. In contrast to Freud, Laplanche
does not conceptualize drive as coming from within, but rather as deriving from the
other—the idea is of the adult as a seducer. Still, there is an otherness about drive, but
understood as the non-symbolized erotic messages of the other. Fonagy (2008) and
Target (2007), in developing their own model of sexuality, refer to Laplanche when point-
ing to the alien and incongruent parts of the sexual self. According to Fonagy and Target,
this alien-ness is due to caregivers’ lack of mirroring of the child’s sexual excitation.11
Although referring to Laplanche as a source of inspiration, Fonagy (2008) nevertheless
has a quite different perspective on “otherness.” While Laplanche, focusing on uncon-
scious communication, maintains that the enigmatic nature of sexuality is due to the
parents’ “seduction,” Fonagy, on the contrary, focuses the parents’ disregarding of the
sexual arousal of the child: the sexual self becomes alien due to lack of mirroring.12 To
my mind, an important difference is that Fonagy’s theory is based on observational
studies that do not seem to accentuate the unconscious dynamics of the mother–child
interplay that is the focus of Laplanche’s theory.
To sum up, psychoanalytic theory after Freud further develops the significance of the
other for the development of human psychosexuality and object choice. I have argued
that conceptualization of the contradictory nature of object choice implies an idea of
otherness: early mother–child interplay—the phase of the child’s primary object choice
—leaves an inner picture or prototype of the kind of partner, an unconscious other that
we later yearn for. Clinical experience shows that specific qualities—a particular laugh,
an individual smell, a certain body shape—may be crucial for sexual excitement: the indi-
vidual does not give up an object that was once “libidinally invested.” Observational
studies (Stern 1993) highlight, from an empirical perspective, Freud’s assumption of

11
Fonagy refers to studies demonstrating that sexual excitation is not mirrored (Fonagy et al. 2002; Gergely 2007) in the
same manner as other affects: when parents are asked how they deal with their sexually aroused baby (3–6 months old),
most of them answer that they “look away”/“ignore” the child’s excitement (Fonagy 2008). Consequently, according to
Fonagy, sexual arousal is not “represented” and owned like other affects. Rather, sexual feelings are felt as an alien self
and sexual feelings can never “truly be experienced as owned” (Fonagy 2008, 23).
12
It can be questioned whether the little child’s excitation (e.g. the baby boy’s automatic erections) are “affects” in the same
sense as other affects.
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 75

the origins of sexuality in childhood. Such studies, focusing on the “observed infant”
(Sandler, Sandler, and Davies 2000), do not, however, deal with the ambiguities and ten-
sions focused on by Freud, as well as by Laplanche and Lacan, in their conceptualization
of unconscious infantile sexuality or the paradoxes of object choice. Laplanche empha-
sizes the importance of the mother’s unconscious sexuality, as enigmatic messages
marking the fantasies of the child. Lacan’s concept of desire underscores how sexual
desire has a soundboard in archaic fantasies that cannot be satisfied through real
objects.

Discussion
My point of departure was that sexuality, as indicated by the decreasing number of refer-
ences (Fonagy 2008), has lost its previous key position in psychoanalytic theory. Before,
articles often referred to sexual dynamics, e.g. speaking about different “fixations.”
Object-relation language, condensed in Fairbairn’s (1952) statement that humans are
object-seeking rather than pleasure-seeking, challenged classical drive theory. Of
course, a change in theoretical language does not necessarily mean that the clinical
reality is changed. Clinical seminars demonstrate that the therapeutic dialogue, now as
before, encompasses passion, jealousy and forbidden erotic desires. Nevertheless, as
Green (1995) remarked, we are faced with a changed theoretical scene. Obviously, there
are good reasons for the theoretical upgrading of an object-relational perspective. Dialo-
gue with developmental psychology and empirical infant research, substantiating the sig-
nificance of affective early interaction for attachment and personality development, has
contributed to extending the psychoanalytic theory of motivation: relational essentials
(Gullestad and Killingmo 2019), like the need for safety (Bowlby 1969), for affirmation of
the self (Kohut 1971, 1977) and for intersubjectivity (Emde 1988), have supplemented
sexual drive as basic driving forces. Patients of today come with problems of identity
and self-disturbance that point to deprivation, trauma and deficits in personality develop-
ment. Such disorders express deficit pathology (Killingmo 1989) rather than intrapsychic
conflict, and are often best explained in terms of attachment and object-relations
theory. While forbidden sexual fantasies often result in conflict pathology, clinical practice
proves that with deficit pathology sexual problems may be secondary, transmitting inse-
cure attachment or fragile self-esteem.
Kohut’s self-psychological theory (1971) may serve as an example of the changed theor-
etical orientation. Kohut deals with sexuality mainly in terms of self-disturbance. For
example, he regards masturbatory practices resorted to by children, as well as incessant
sexual exploits in young people, as expression of and defence against chronic narcissistic
depletion and the danger of self-fragmentation (Kohut 1971, 119)—Kohut’s chief focus. Of
course, sexual behaviour may express self-disturbance. The point here, however, is that it
does not necessarily do so.
My concern is that Kohut’s self-psychological theory exclusively emphasizes self-object
needs and neglects sexual drive as a distinct motivational force. Thereby his theory risks
becoming as uni-dimensional as the classical theory he criticizes. This leads to an
unnecessary theoretical polarization that is theoretically unfounded: the contrast
between the object- (and self-object-) seeking and the pleasure-seeking child has resulted
in an infertile schism between a drive theoretical and object-relational view of infant
76 S. E. GULLESTAD

development. Instead of throwing out the baby with the bathwater, the two perspectives
may very well complement each other.

Sexuality and attachment

A main asset of drive theory, as I see it, is its potential to throw light on the contradictions
and paradoxes of human love life and the often-observed divisions between love, attach-
ment and erotic desire. As psychoanalysts, we frequently see people suffering from such
divisions:
Mr B, being in a stable and safe relationship to his wife with whom he has two small children,
has recently felt restless and “fenced in.” He does not like the boring person he feels he has
become. The relationship seems more “dead” and “dull” than before, and secretly, Mr B yearns
for more excitement. One day at a job conference he encounters Anna—a beautiful, attractive
younger colleague who quite directly seduces him. Mr B falls in love with her immediately. For
some months they engage in a passionate sexual relationship—until one day Mr B’s wife dis-
covers an intimate message on her husband’s mobile phone. She is furious, telling him to
leave, literally throwing him out of the house. Mr B is devastated. Suddenly, the passionate
feelings for Anna are gone—the only thing he wants is to reunite with his wife and children.
Begging his wife to take him back, ashamed that he could “lose control,” he proclaims that he
does not understand what happened—“I was beside myself.” Something “other” took over,
some wildness in himself that he hadn’t experienced before. “Now I’m myself again.”

This vignette illustrates how two different wants imply divergent pulls in Mr B’s life—the
need for a safe, stable relationship on the one hand, and the desire for erotic pleasure on
the other. It seems to me that the metaphor of the otherness of sexuality may capture
central aspects of Mr B’s conflicting situation: he feels sexual passion as something
other taking over, something that he does not acknowledge as “him”—an experiential
counterpart to the Freudian vision of the sexual drive as an impersonal, inner force imping-
ing as something unknown. Moreover, Stein’s conception of otherness, understood as
excess and transgression of ordinary life, may elucidate Mr B’s ecstatic involvement with
Anna. His familiar and safe relationship with his wife left him unsatisfied, with a lack.
For a short while Mr B imagined that a new erotic object could fill this lack.
How best to conceptualize the relationship between attachment needs and sexual
desire—motivations that often clash, as in the case of Mr B? Certainly, Freud’s discussion
of splits between love and desire, and the convergence of the affective and sensual current
in the child’s relationship to the object, is most relevant here (although Freud does not
speak of attachment needs).13 An alternative theoretical model is proposed by attachment
theory, hypothesizing sexuality and attachment as two different, biologically based behav-
ioural systems. The two systems, governed by different hormones, have different functions
and different aims; they are activated independently of each other, and the class of objects
towards which each is directed may be quite different (Bowlby 1969). Before discussing
the relationship between the two systems, let me note an important difference
between Freud and Bowlby’s conception of sexuality. Generally, in Bowlby’s theory, func-
tion and aim define biologically based behavioural systems. As concerns sexuality, the
function is reproduction; Bowlby neither deals with infantile sexuality nor with sexual

Of course, the concept of “attachment” and “attachment needs” has gained a specific meaning (need for security, gained
13

through a bond to a specific person that the child can turn to when feeling vulnerable) in Bowlby’s theory, which differs
from Freud’s in important respects (Gullestad 2001).
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 77

drive as a discrete motive. In line with this, Bowlby writes about homosexuality that
because “the object towards which they are directed is inappropriate, the functional con-
sequence of reproduction cannot follow” (Bowlby 1969, s. 167). Indeed, a different focus
than Freud’s! As stressed earlier, a main point in Freud’s discussion of human psychosexu-
ality is that neither the object nor the aim of the drive is given. Rather, sexuality is extre-
mely mobile; aims and object are subject to immense variation. Sexuality goes beyond
genitality, is bisexual and not limited to heterosexual object choice.
Eagle (2016), through an in-depth discussion of the relationship between attachment
and sexuality—of which Bowlby has little to say—elaborates on the inherent contradiction
between the two functionally separable systems. While attachment implies search for
security, familiarity and predictability, sexual excitement is increased by novelty, variety
and diversity. In an evolutionary perspective, this has served adaptation because of the
incentive not to choose a close relative as a partner, thereby preventing inbreeding.
Although Eagle disputes Freud’s account of the division of love and desire in terms of
“incestuous fixation” (Freud 1912, 180),14 the idea of inherent contradiction between func-
tionally separate systems seems to capture—in a different theoretical language—the
same phenomenon that is the focus of Freud’s discussions of disjunctions in love.
Where Freud noticed (in his discussion of psychical impotence) that “where they love
they do not desire and where they desire they cannot love” (Freud 1912, 183), Eagle
refers to modern attachment researchers observing that it is not uncommon to see
intense attachment without sexual interest and intense sexual interest without attach-
ment—the two are loosely coupled (Fonagy 2001; Holmes 2001).
The conceptualization of distinct biological systems may serve to describe conflicts in
intimate human relationships between two different types of needs: on the one hand, a
need for belongingness, for a committed relationship representing “home” and a haven
of safety; on the other hand, desire—a need for stimulation, novelty and the unknown
—a desire that may threaten permanent bonds. In my view, this theory does not,
however, adequately explain why we search for the new and unknown—not to
mention our yearning for the forbidden, the impossible and the illicit. The ultimate expla-
nation of attachment theory is evolution: seeking the unfamiliar has survival value because
it prevents inbreeding. This theoretical perspective does not capture possible unconscious
dynamics addressed by the psychoanalytic drive theories and that are necessary for under-
standing the contradictions in object choice.
To my mind, to understand the splits between love and erotic desire, we need to con-
sider the dialectics, emphasized by Freud, between autoerotism and object-relatedness:
partial drives, before the choice of a specific object unifies them, are satisfied in an auto-
erotic manner—and they may remain as drives that are not fully integrated in a relation-
ship. Also, we need to consider how sexual desire and attachment intertwine—the child’s
affectionate relationship to the caregiver carries with it contributions from the sexual
drives (Freud 1912, 180). Psychoanalytic drive theories underscore how early relations—
through the child’s interplay with his caregivers—fundamentally mark erotic desire. A
central idea, by Freud as well as by Laplanche, is that the object of the first satisfaction
—the mother—may be heavily, and incestuously, invested with libido, and remain the

14
According to Eagle, while the incest taboo seems biologically based (the product of natural selection, to prevent inbreed-
ing), the idea of universal incestuous wishes cannot be substantiated (Eagle 2016, 105–107).
78 S. E. GULLESTAD

object of unconscious cravings and desires. Humans may yearn for a lost object that can
never be rediscovered.
Is the conflict between sexuality and attachment insoluble? Eagle’s (2016) answer is no.
By reference to studies of long-term, stable relationships, he maintains that in such
relationships emotional bonds gradually replace sexual attraction and interest: committed
attachment to a partner has more to do with security and affectionate care than with
sexual excitement. Rather, emotional support and mutual thoughtfulness maintain the
relationship. This does not mean that sexuality no longer plays a role. More accurately,
sexual desire is more important in the beginning, while emotional intimacy and secure
attachment become relatively more important over time (ibid.).
Freud’s line of thinking is different. In his texts, there is certainly a tension between two
points of view. On the one hand stands the idea of the affective and the sexual current
converging in the focusing of all desires upon a single object (Freud 1905, 200). On the
other hand stands the idea of the sexual drive as containing an intrinsic, insolvable
conflict between autoerotic satisfaction and search for an object. The idea of erotic inten-
sity requiring a hindrance (Freud 1912, 187) points in the same direction—something in
the drive itself opposes full satisfaction. On this background, the belief in total union
and consummation comes forward as an idealized idea. The concept of an inherent
tension, on the contrary, captures the contradictions in the sphere of love. In my
reading, this idea of inherent tension and non-satisfaction is also conveyed by Lacan’s dis-
tinction between drive and desire, as well as by Laplanche’s notion of the “phantasmatic”
object, always different from the real object. This theoretical outlook may serve as a coun-
terweight to an idealized idea of the fully harmonious love relationship. Thus, it represents
an interpretative perspective on the eternal search for the one and only.
I want to underscore Freud’s outline of autoeroticism. This concept means self-satisfac-
tion and is often understood narrowly as physical release of sexual tension, e.g. by mastur-
bation. Fantasy should be included in the concept, I think. Human psychosexuality is
inevitably linked to fantasies—conscious and unconscious. The individual’s imaginary
world frequently goes beyond the relation to her actual partner. Such discrepancy
between reality and fantasy is not necessarily wrong or immoral, as many patients
think. An opposite thought is that sexual fantasies may be contained in the intimate dia-
logue with the partner—either as private fantasies or as imaginary adventures that can be
shared. On this background, one can understand Freud’s conception of the primacy of the
genital as an idea of integration, also including fantasy. Although there exists a contradic-
tion between the familiar on the one hand and erotic lust and desire on the other, getting
to know one’s partner more deeply in a longstanding relationship may represent a process
of integration of one’s own sexuality. That the other person accepts alien and suppressed
parts of the self—like forbidden erotic fantasies—implies affirmation and creates intense
bonds.

Psychosexuality as a developmental line

I want to draw attention to yet another possible loss of complexity: if drive theory declines,
we risk losing Freud’s understanding of psychosexual development. Killingmo (1999)
argues that although recent theory development has extended the psychoanalytic listen-
ing perspective—the therapist now, first and foremost, listens to the patient’s affects, self-
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 79

states and actualized relational scenarios—listening to possible psychosexual phase-

fixations nevertheless represents a “soundboard” beyond these perspectives. Though
the concept of phase-fixation may be problematic, the idea of erotogenic zones—oral,
anal, phallic—provides, as I see it, a vertical depth dimension in our clinical understanding.
When I listen to the patient who greedily secures his interests in all areas of life—a vora-
cious consumer, be it of food or alcohol—the idea of unsatisfied oral needs at the
“bottom” may give meaning to the material. If we lose this dimension, a shallower and
more “anaemic” picture of the patient is the result. The bodily level lies as a ground
level “below” later developmental levels—necessary for comprehending, for example,
extremely intense jealousy reactions towards a partner’s unfaithfulness. Thus, listening
to early psychosexual needs may be fruitful to capture the infantile, archaic levels of the
patient’s personality and life experience.
The concept of psychosexuality implies that drive pressure is transmitted and “trans-
lated” in the psyche as wishes, desires and fantasies. This transmitting takes place
through interpersonal communication and interaction. Different forms of trauma,
absence or neglect may result in a sexual life characterized by unconscious anxiety
and fixated needs. Clinically, this developmental perspective has important impli-
cations. Impotence may express fear to penetrate—because entering into another’s
body may activate images of a devouring, invading spider-woman. Or, sexuality is
lived in a symbiotic mode: what matters is lying close, making things cosy and
feeling secure. As eroticism implies being in touch with an archaic dimension of
oneself—a state of consciousness exceeding the ordinary—the ability to abandon
oneself sexually requires a relatively secure sense of self. Therefore, the adult
person’s erotic life is indeed coloured by unresolved problems of earlier developmental
phases, pointing to unmet relational needs. Still, what the person pursues is sexual lust.
Again, my point is that we need a theory encompassing both relational needs and
sexual drive as motivational forces. To sum up, losing the idea of pleasure-seeking psy-
chosexuality as a basic motivational driving force may imply a simplified understanding
of patients’ sexual problems and difficulties in love relationships.

Concluding remarks
On an overarching level, the weakening of drive theory risks enfeebling Freud’s radical
insight—that man is driven by unconscious needs and fantasies. The key of the “retour
á Freud” (Lacan 1966) is to remember Freud’s epistemological revolution—the “decen-
tring” of the subject implied in the fundamental thought that the ego is not master in
its own house. Thinkers like Lacan, Laplanche, Green and Stein preserve and develop
Freud’s conceptualization of the deep contradictions in man’s love-psychology: experi-
ences of the erotic drive as strange otherness; desires for the impossible and forbidden
object; fantasies that exceed concretely lived life, creating a feeling of non-fulfilment—a
“lack.” Foucault develops a parallel thought: the last volume of Histoire de la sexualité (Fou-
cault 2018, published after his death), called Les aveux de la chair, makes a distinction
between le corps (the body) and la chair (the flesh). La chair confesses an idea of unappea-
sable desire that is transcending in relation to the body. On this background, one could say
that if sexuality seems repressed from mainstream psychoanalysis, it seems to have sur-
vived in Paris.
80 S. E. GULLESTAD

“Relation” is today’s language. There are weighty reasons for increased prioritizing of
relations: psychoanalytic theory has developed through influence from infant research
and studies of early interaction, as well as through broader clinical experience with
forms of pathology originating in trauma and deficit. However, it seems that in many
ways object-relational theory has eliminated or repressed drive theory, depicting the
two as theoretically incompatible. Consequently, our theory loses sight of sexual pleasure
seeking as a basic driving force in human life. Such polarization is theoretically unfounded.
In this article, I have tried to show that drive and relation intertwine. The relationship to the
object is there from the start in Freud’s investigation of the psychosexuality of human
beings. Affective interactions between child and caregiver shape human psychosexuality,
not least through the unconscious, enigmatic sexuality of the other. At the same time, I
have emphasized—in line with Freud—that sexual drive presents itself as something
other, an inner, raw force. Excess and unknown otherness are part of erotic passion. The
article highlights how Freud’s drive theory quivers in a tension between drive and
object in a way that brings us in touch with both our interior tension and the force the
drive represents. A loss of this perspective is a loss of complexity, theoretically as well
as clinically.

Translations of summary

L’auteur de cet article examine la façon dont la théorie des pulsions chez Freud, Laplanche et Lacan,
éclaire la nature conflictuelle du désir et du choix d’objet. Après une lecture attentive des Trois essais
sur la théorie de la sexualité (Freud, 1905), l’auteur souligne la tension inhérente, dans la pensée de
Freud, entre les différentes formes de la pulsion, selon qu’elle s’exprime sans ou avec objet, ainsi que
le trajet parsemé de conflits rencontré par le choix d’objet. A travers l’étude de la théorie de
Laplanche sur l’origine et la nature de la pulsion, l’auteur souligne l’importance des messages incons-
cients et énigmatiques émanant de l’objet. elle affirme que Freud, Laplanche et Lacan, chacun à leur
façon, expriment l’idée de l’altérité foncière de la sexualité. Cette altérité est susceptible de mettre en
lumière les divisions dans le domaine de l’amour, c’est-à-dire les clivages entre la sexualité et l’atta-
chement, si fréquents dans la pratique clinique, lorsque le désir érotique entre en conflit avec le
besoin d’une relation sécurisante et stable. L’auteur vise à expliciter la valeur clinique d’une
écoute fondée sur la théorie des pulsions, afin de rendre compte de l’ambivalence, des conflits et
des paradoxes du choix d’objet chez l’être humain.

Der Artikel untersucht, wie die psychoanalytischen Triebtheorien von Freud, Laplanche und Lacan
die konfliktive Natur von Begehren und Objektwahl verdeutlichen. In einer eingehenden Lektüre
der “Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie” (Freud 1905) wird die inhärente Spannung in Freuds
Denken zwischen der Nicht-Objektbezogenheit und der Objektbezogenheit des Triebs sowie der
konfliktreiche Weg der Objektwahl hervorgehoben. Mit einer Erörterung von Laplanches Theorie
über den Ursprung und das Wesen des Triebs wird die Bedeutung der unbewussten, rätselhaften
Botschaften des Objekts herausgestrichen. Es wird dargelegt, dass Freud, Laplanche und Lacan –
wenn auch auf unterschiedliche Weise – eine Vorstellung von der Andersartigkeit der Sexualität ver-
mitteln. Diese Andersartigkeit kann dazu beitragen, Spaltungen im Bereich der Liebe hervorzuheben,
z. B. Spaltungen zwischen Sexualität und Bindung, wie sie in der klinischen Praxis so häufig auftreten,
wenn das erotische Verlangen in Konflikt mit dem Bedürfnis nach einer sicheren und stabilen Bezie-
hung gerät. Der Artikel soll den klinischen Wert einer in der Triebtheorie verankerten Hörerperspek-
tive erklären, um die Ambivalenz, Konflikte und Widersprüche in der menschlichen Objektwahl zu
verstehen.

L’articolo mostra i diversi modi in cui le teorie psicoanalitiche pulsionali di Freud, Laplanche e Lacan
spiegano la natura conflittuale del desiderio e della scelta oggettuale. Attraverso una lettura ravvici-
nata dei Tre saggi sulla teoria sessuale (Freud, 1905), evidenzierò in primo luogo una tensione (insita
 INT J PSYCHOANAL 81

nel pensiero di Freud) rispetto alla natura della pulsione e al suo essere o meno vincolata a una rela-
zione d’oggetto, sottolineando poi anche il percorso conflittuale che caratterizza la scelta oggettuale.
Passando a discutere la teoria di Laplanche sull’origine e sulla natura della pulsione, mostrerò quindi
le implicazioni dei messaggi inconsci ed enigmatici dell’oggetto. Sosterrò altresì che, sebbene in
modi diversi, tanto Freud quanto Laplanche e Lacan trasmettano con i loro scritti un’idea di sessualità
a cui sottesa una dimensione di alterità. Tale alterità può aiutare a mettere in luce delle spaccature
nell’ambito dei rapporti d’amore – ad esempio, quelle scissioni tra sessualità e attaccamento che
tanto spesso si incontrano nell’attività clinica, laddove il desiderio erotico viene a trovarsi in conflitto
con il bisogno di una relazione sicura e stabile. L’articolo ha anche lo scopo di spiegare il valore che
una prospettiva d’ascolto radicata nella teoria pulsionale può avere in ambito clinico quando si
vogliano comprendere appieno l’ambivalenza, i conflitti e i paradossi che caratterizzano le scelte
oggettuali di ciascuna persona.

El presente artículo explora de qué manera las teorías de las pulsiones de Freud, Laplanche y Lacan
elucidan la naturaleza conflictiva del deseo y de la elección de objeto. A partir de una lectura atenta
de Tres ensayos de teoría sexual (Freud, 1905), se destaca la tensión intrínseca en el pensamiento de
Freud entre el carácter relacional de la pulsión con el objeto y el carácter no relacional de la pulsión
con el objeto, así como el camino conflictivo de la elección de objeto. A partir del análisis de la teoría
de Laplanche sobre el origen y la naturaleza de la pulsión, se subraya la importancia de los mensajes
enigmáticos inconscientes del objeto. Se sostiene que Freud, Laplanche y Lacan transmiten una idea
de la otredad de la sexualidad, aunque de diferentes maneras. Esta otredad puede contribuir a resal-
tar divisiones en la esfera del amor, por ejemplo, escisiones entre la sexualidad y el apego, tan a
menudo encontradas en la práctica clínica, cuando el deseo erótico entra en conflicto con la nece-
sidad de una relación segura y estable. Este artículo busca explicar el valor clínico de una perspectiva
de escucha arraigada en la teoría pulsional para comprender la ambivalencia, los conflictos y las
paradojas en las elecciones objetales de los seres humanos.

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