Notes on a disorder.

Since I rarely have written about psychology here, I'm going to skip a big intro and dig right in. I've just been having some thoughts I want to try out.

There are three main personality disorders: borderline, narcissistic, and schizoid. Narcissism in the clinical setting requires the consistent presentation of five or more behaviors from a list set out in the DSM in order to reach a diagnosis; it is not what pop culture references when it really means egotism.

The word of course comes from the Greek myth of Narcissus, the beautiful young man who fell in love with his own reflection. An accepted definition of narcissism today is "a fixation with oneself and one's physical appearance or public perception."

Narcissistic personality disorder is, in my opinion, best described using object relations theory. In this theory the early (infantile) interactions between subject (self) and object (other) create the basis for enduring psychological traits that can be positive or negative. When the traits are pervasive and negative, they can be (but are not always) grouped as a disorder of personality.

For the NPD sufferer, from what I have studied, the main conflict between subject and object arises from a failure of the object to properly "mirror" the subject, and that means exactly what it sounds like. This especially shows up later in childhood when the disordered person can have more social interactions and, of course, speak. The easiest way to describe it is in the most common areas where objects fail to properly mirror: when it comes to opinions and desires.

Of course, much of an individual's identity can be described by their opinions and desires, and also values, etc. But when the object's subjective thoughts/feelings fail to fall in line with those of the disordered person, harsh and degrading reactions are often the result. The NPD sufferer will lash out regarding the differing worldview instead of learning to accept it as belonging rightfully to the object. 

In effect, it could be assumed that the NP (narcissist personality) does not realize there are other worldviews beyond her or his own. This could explain why they may appear cavalier about socially unacceptable behaviors like infidelity or fraud (and how the "narcissist" label gets affixed to popular figures who otherwise do not present for the disorder)

There's way, way more to this common reaction among NPs, including how inner part-objects function and the role of projection, but I'll need to skip that. For more reading, I've including a list at the end of this post.

My thought is that using the word narcissist to describe this set of disordered behaviors is inaccurate, and a different word should be used.

Schizoid personality disorder, also best described using object relations theory, stands apart from NPD and BPD in that the sufferer usually does not cause outward havoc or toxic relationships under normal circumstances. SP's, whether or not socially withdrawn, are intensely disattuned to personal and intimate attachment. "The libidinal attachment appears to be with oneself." Libido is a word that has been coopted by various sex psychologies and therefore we generally think of it as sex drive; but psychoanalytically it has more to do with psychic fascination - fascination with other people, with objects, with places, etc. ("Psychic" here relating to the psyche, or self).

The schizoid person's libidinal attachments are to her or his self, lived as a powerfully emotional and endlessly detailed inner world the sufferer carries with them from early childhood. This fascination with the "objects" that have been projected back into the subject replaces the fascination that would normally become the libido used to develop deep friendships, and intimate relationships. Of course, SPD is not about sex - it's about a fundamental and unconscious disdain for the idea of the physical subject, fears of absorption, and infantile coping strategies in the face of abandonment and/or neglect.

In this way, I feel that schizoid personality disorder would actually be served better by being called narcissistic personality disorder. The crux of the Narcissus myth is that he, literally or figuratively, fell in love with himself - the libidinal attachment was to himself. He did not come to his demise by begging for attention and accolades, by being materialistic and over-confident, which is how modern culture thinks of narcissism. His demise was his libidinal attachment to himself. Further, his myth relays how he traditionally scorned all intimacy, with the reason being that no one was good enough for him. Perhaps? Or perhaps that explanation comes from the bruised perspective of the rejected object?

So what then would we call the current narcissist PD?

Since in my opinion the crux of the disorder is failed mirroring, I would go with symbiotic personality disorder. (In the same way that neither borderline, narcissistic, or schizoid perfectly encapsulates the complexity of their respective disorders, I feel that symbiotic as a general term works well)

In a symbiotic relationship at least one species benefits, while the other species is affected positively, negatively, or not at all. In the clinical context, symbiotic personality disorder would always refers to a negative relationship with the object.

I came upon this word while trying to find one that captured the essence of what it most difficult about interacting with a NP; and that is their dogged resistance to outside perspectives and desires. This is what makes up a least some of the confusion with egotism, in that in a NP's search for mirroring, they can hold no subject (other) higher than their own self. Their worldview is always the correct one, is always the starting point. Again, this demand for mirroring and the negative reactions to failure are mired in very complex inner psychological conditions, and perhaps one day I'll do a post just focusing on that.

In the meantime, I feel that, if you were to put it in fresh terms, what we have called a narcissist is actually someone seeking a mutually positive symbiotic relationship with all subjects - with disordered behavior arising at its failure, leading to consistently negative outcomes.

***

All of James Masterson's works regarding personality disorders are essential; here are the three I've made it through so far:

Search for the Real Self (1988)

Disorders of the Self (1996)

Psychotherapy of the Disorders of the Self (2002)

New music part 4/Music roundup.

By virtue of not having properly blogged in over a year, I've got a LOT of music to get through. Some of the 'new music' I discovered back in 2018, so if you're wondering if I'm the type to procrastinate, wonder no more.

First I want to ruminate a bit on the state of music in the 2010s (since I'm still procrastinating on my epic blog post about the 2010s). It was the decade of women, for sure. The biggest stars (Adele), the most influential songmakers (Florence + the Machine, Sia), the most talked-about (Cardi B), the most iconic (Lady Gaga, Beyonce), the most divisive (Lana del Rey), were all women, and I believe this happened organically. It's simply how the decade played out.

It was also the Decade of Pop. I read an interesting article about how pop slowly became legitimized after the 90s/00s reign of alternative and rock; that hipster music mags and critics could no longer make money turning their noses up at the genre that was taking over everything. And everything went pop: rock, r&b, country, folk - you wouldn't believe how many artists betrayed their early, earnest acoustic or subversive catalogues for bass, synth and reverb. It's so across the board that it seems most just gave up and realized they'd have to follow the pop storm in order to stay relevant. It is very, very interesting to me.

I also love (good) pop, always have. I never thought it was illegitimate. I'm inclined to say that in the 2010s artists discovered how much there was to work with in the genre (which simply means 'popular' but has for decades meant 'pap') and that it could be fun. Sure, there were plenty of other cultural forces at work, but that's definitely a different blog post. It no longer had to mean the ubiquity of made-to-order songs like "Livin' La Vida Loca" or the out-and-out paint-by-numbers pablum of the early Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys days. Now pop is layered, creative, collaborative, and can be made in your bedroom if you've got the setup.

(Remember that brief era of insanity in the mid-2000s when, if an unknown band made it big, their fans wept and gnashed their teeth? They didn't want their favorite band to be popular. They wanted the alt cred that came along with only enjoying things other people had never heard of or couldn't understand or enjoy. Since the music put out by these bands was, to a classically trained ear, utter shit, I've always wondered if maybe those rabid fans were just using shit music to feel untouchably cool. Tragically hip, if you will)

Additionally, those hipsters realized that pop could be made by 'real' musicians, too. Back in the day the definition of a 'real' musician or band was people who wrote their own songs and played their own instruments and made their own way, and while you can't argue with that, it's a bit obtuse. A huge part of the rancor against American Idol was the supposedly foolproof criticism that the contestants and winners weren't real musicians - they just churned out pre-approved albums crafted by the latest Swedish hitmaker. Regardless of your opinion of the show, I wouldn't say that, for example, opera singers weren't real musicians just because they didn't write music or libretto. Someone who sings is a musician, period. But that sort of logic wasn't allowed back in the day. Rules were rules.

Then came along Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. At very first rejected not only for their pop sensibilities but their showiness, the masses complained that they couldn't sing and weren't real musicians. Then the women began performing live everywhere and proved that they could sing. Then it came out that they'd written their songs. Then it came out that they even wrote songs for other big acts. Then we saw them playing piano and guitar, respectively. Wait, whaaa? How is this possible??... People who can sing and write and play, they don't make pop music!! Funnily and obviously enough, those early naysayers were never heard from again.

And so things went from there and it became the Decade of Pop. I personally think it was the best era of music since the 80s which, probably not coincidentally, was also heavy on melodic pop. It will be interesting to see where the 2020s take us; I'm prepared to be let down.

Ok - time for new (to me) music!

Lana del fucking Rey.

On a wintry night at the end of 2011 I drove across state lines to hang out with a couple of friends. I don't remember anything from the evening besides the fact that we watched Saturday Night Live. Danielle Radcliffe was the host, and the musical guest was a complete unknown named Lana del Rey.

The verdict at the end of the show was clear: my two friends had hated her shaky performances, while I noted that I loved her look (floor-length cream-colored dress and long red hair) and the throwback but intriguing style of her music. I would keep her in mind as one to watch for, though that turned out to be unnecessary.

The next day media buzzed with the news that venerable NBC news host Brian Williams (since defrocked for violating his industry's code of ethics) had publicly called del Rey out in a tweet as being the worst performer in SNL history. The bandwagon was swiftly weighted down with concurring opinions: she was emotionless, out of tune, and didn't even have a proper album out; her lips were probably fake, her sentiments Victorian, and Lana del Rey wasn't even her name but a stage name. Who was this woman and how dare she? How dare she?

Her official debut album, Born to Die, was released in January of 2012. The music critics were ready for it. Pitchfork called it "limp and pointless." Rolling Stone felt it "dull, dreary and pop-starved" and gave it two stars. AV Club said "shallow and overwrought." Consequence of Sound gave it a D. Spin pointed out its objective ridiculousness a dozen times and quoted actual lyrics that were objectively ridiculous - for example, "let's take Jesus off the dashboard/got enough on his mind." Additionally, the Spin review starts out by addressing the common knowledge that multiple musical acts throughout history have taken stage names, getting it out of the way in a "yeah yeah" style in order to say so what? Your girl's still shit.

Apprehensively I listened to the previews of the album on iTunes, then pretty much just bought it. And listened to it again and again and again and again. Now, I'm definitely what one might called a "late adopter" or "early deserter," and I enjoy not thinking along the same lines as everyone else. But I wasn't listening to LDR to prove a point. I was listening because it was damn good.

If you read the reviews by average people of BTD on Amazon, the sentiment is completely reversed from what industry critics shared. Instead of getting the feeling you're watching someone actively being thrown under a full-speed city bus, you read of the beauty of the songs and her gorgeous lower register, the subversiveness of her lyrics, the smart marriage of mid-century pop stylings with of-the-moment beats and production.

I'm not writing this to try and convince you that professional music critics are hacks, that you shouldn't enjoy music journalism, that music appreciation isn't ultimately subjective.

No, I'm writing this to put on the record that Elizabeth Grant suffered a coordinated assassination attempt by every publication with a web address, that the reviews were a goddamn Greek chorus of the same illogical complaints and character attacks, that whatever objective quality her music displayed was absolutely ignored and then completely lied about over and over and over again. I'm writing to remind you, in case in the ensuing years you've forgotten, that a young woman with little name recognition and no famous supporters somehow made it through the sustained, concerted effort to reduce her to ash, to leave any trace of her credibility in absolute tatters, done so smugly and glibly that there shouldn't have been any energy or courage left in any of us plebeians to withstand the industry's resounding NO.

I also write this on the eve of the 2020 Grammys, for which del Rey is nominated for Album of the Year for her sixth album, Norman Fucking Rockwell.

Lana del Rey is, in my opinion, the artist of the decade. She has been totally unique throughout the 2010s, to the point where no one has ever dared mimic her. She has stayed consistent, both in her musical style and personal style, through the very same years we saw total transformations from the likes of Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. She is exceedingly prolific - again, NFR is her sixth album release in eight years. (I include the EP Paradise as a proper album; it's got nine freaking songs). And, like all great heroes of myth and legend, she endured tragic beginnings, stayed the course, and has won the war against her - not because the industry quickly heeled, because they did not. But because she was true to herself, she allowed her massive creativity to continue to flow, and she earned fans who have defended her from the beginning and likely will until the end.

I don't want to write a super-long post and take you through the triumphs of each of her albums; you can listen for yourself. What I want to note in particular, though, is this: because she is so consistent, there are plenty of moments on Born to Die, and Paradise, and Ultraviolence, and Honeymoon, and Lust for Life, that would fit seamlessly in NFR. I want to stress that the same things she did to earn an Album of the Year nomination in 2019 were present from the beginning. Lana del Rey has not changed. The world was simply forced to finally shut the fuck up and listen.

If you enjoy NFR, it would be impossible for you to find any fault with songs like "Radio," "Body Electric," "Black Beauty," "Terrence Loves You," or "White Mustang." Or songs like "Blue Jeans," "American," "Money Power Glory," "Art Deco," "or Change." You see, I'm just running through her discography and picking a song off of each album. I could do this all night.

So what is it that the critics find suddenly so worthy this time around? Here is another sampling of reviews, this time for NFR: Pitchfork called it "elegant and complex." Rolling Stone felt it "massive and majestic." AV Club said the album-ending song was "stunningly personal." Consequence of Sound gave it an A-. Spin actually says in the title of its gushing, philosophical review that NFR - and thus, LDR - "Isn't Afraid to Go Where Other Pop Stars Won't." But that's funny 'cause like, when she did that in 2012, it was bad and wrong.

And remember how taking Jesus off the dashboard was completely uninspired drivel? The Pitchfork critic  in the review linked to above, swan-dived deep into the fandom by declaring del Rey the next best American songwriter, "period."

Wait, does this mean that del Rey learned from her early mistakes, her naivete, her gumption? Does it mean that she spent the decade taking a humble step back, being mentored by the greats, taking nighttime poetry courses, etc. etc. and now Norman Fucking Rockwell is the butterfly finally emerged? Fuck no. Like I've been saying the entire time, del Rey is nothing if not consistent. Neither she, nor her vision, nor her style, have changed. And if I played a game where you had to decide which lyrics were from BTD and which were from NFR, you would lose spectacularly.

In the same way that apparently everyone in the music industry gathered around a pitch black table in the dungeon of some secret mansion and solemnly swore to tear her to pieces for deigning to release BTD, I'm assuming they all gathered again last year and decided that it was up to them to redeem her, to give her the accolades she deserves, but knowing that an Album of the Year nomination wouldn't be possible without ridiculously glowing reviews by the exact same publications who tried to murder her with their preschool-level pettiness.

But to her millions of fans, they just look fucking ridiculous. Lana del Rey, who honestly seems at first glance fragile enough to fall over in the wind, was stronger than all of their hate. I don't know how she did it - huge personal support network I'm guessing? - but I know I would have crumpled to dust. The world out there, doesn't deserve her. The real fans, however, do, and that is who she keeps making music for (I tell myself, indulgently). We stan because there's every fucking reason to stan.

For the record, I don't think she'll actually win. I think this is just ceremonial. Someone hopefully also deserving like Bon Iver will. And honestly, we never needed her to be nominated. Maybe just respected. Truly, in the Me Too era, the treatment of del Rey nine years ago looks very, very bad. Let that be a lesson that there's no such thing as being "on the right side of history."

And to all you losers who tried to end my girl: I will never forget what you did.