Mikita Brottman – författare

As Freud predicted, there has always been great anxiety about the place of psychoanalysis in contemporary life, particularly in relation to its ambiguous and complicated relationship to the realm of science. There is also a long history of widespread resistance, in both academia and medicine, to anything associated with the world of the supernatural; very few people, in their professional lives, at least, are willing to admit a serious interest in occult phenomena. As a result, paranormal traces have all but vanished from the psychoanalytic process - though not without leaving a residue. This residue remains, the author argues, in the acceptably "clinical" guise of projective identification, a concept first formulated by Melanie Klein, and widely used in contemporary psychoanalysis to suggest a different variety of transference and transference-like phenomena between patient and analyst that seem to occur outside the normal range of the sensory process.

Brottman offers a study of movies so offensive, that some are practically unwatchable. From the ever-popular ""Faces of Death"" movies to purported snuff films, from classic B-movies such as ""The Tingler"", to more popular but no less controversial films such as ""The Texas Chainsaw Massacre"", Brottman takes a wide-eyed look at movies most folks watch only through parted fingers. Part anthropology, part psychoanalysis, ""Offensive Films"" vivisects these movies in order to figure out just what about them is so offensive, obscene, or bizarre.

Why are jokes funny? Why do we laugh? In Funny Peculiar, Mikita Brottman demurs from recent scholarship that takes laughter-- and the broader domain of humor and the comical--as a liberating social force and an endearing aspect of self-expression. For Brottman, there is nothing funny about laughter, which is less connected to mirth and feelings of good will than to a nexus of darker emotions: fear, aggression, shame, anxiety. Brottman rethinks not only the mechanisms of humor but also the relation of humor to the body and the senses. To this end, she provides an engrossing account of the life and work of Gershon Legman, exiled author, publisher, and sexologist, Alfred Kinsey's first bibliographer, and legendary compiler of the dirty joke. Like Freud, Legman was convinced of the impossibility of understanding humor apart from sex, and Brottman shows how his two massive works on the subject, Rationale of the Dirty Joke and No Laughing Matter, provide a framework for understanding the ambivalent and often hostile impulses that underlie the comic impulse in its various guises. In lively and enlivening chapters, she traverses dirty jokes, the figure of the "evil clown" in popular culture, the current popularity of "humor therapy," changing fashions in stand-up comedy, and the connection between humor and horror. Brottman's sparkling prose, laced with wit, does not obscure the seriousness of Funny Peculiar. It is a thoughtful and wide-ranging elaboration of the Freudian claim that joking, in point of fact, is no laughing matter.

Why are jokes funny? Why do we laugh? In Funny Peculiar, Mikita Brottman demurs from recent scholarship that takes laughter-- and the broader domain of humor and the comical--as a liberating social force and an endearing aspect of self-expression. For Brottman, there is nothing funny about laughter, which is less connected to mirth and feelings of good will than to a nexus of darker emotions: fear, aggression, shame, anxiety. Brottman rethinks not only the mechanisms of humor but also the relation of humor to the body and the senses. To this end, she provides an engrossing account of the life and work of Gershon Legman, exiled author, publisher, and sexologist, Alfred Kinsey's first bibliographer, and legendary compiler of the dirty joke. Like Freud, Legman was convinced of the impossibility of understanding humor apart from sex, and Brottman shows how his two massive works on the subject, Rationale of the Dirty Joke and No Laughing Matter, provide a framework for understanding the ambivalent and often hostile impulses that underlie the comic impulse in its various guises. In lively and enlivening chapters, she traverses dirty jokes, the figure of the "evil clown" in popular culture, the current popularity of "humor therapy," changing fashions in stand-up comedy, and the connection between humor and horror. Brottman's sparkling prose, laced with wit, does not obscure the seriousness of Funny Peculiar. It is a thoughtful and wide-ranging elaboration of the Freudian claim that joking, in point of fact, is no laughing matter.

As Freud predicted, there has always been great anxiety about the place of psychoanalysis in contemporary life, particularly in relation to its ambiguous and complicated relationship to the realm of science. There is also a long history of widespread resistance, in both academia and medicine, to anything associated with the world of the supernatural; very few people, in their professional lives, at least, are willing to admit a serious interest in occult phenomena. As a result, paranormal traces have all but vanished from the psychoanalytic process - though not without leaving a residue. This residue remains, Brottman argues, in the acceptably "clinical" guise of projective identification, a concept first formulated by Melanie Klein, and widely used in contemporary psychoanalysis to suggest a different variety of transference and transference-like phenomena between patient and analyst that seem to occur outside the normal range of the sensory process.In this book, Brottman considers the nature and implications of the connections between projective identification and thought-transference, as well as the slightly embarrassing associations between "ordinary" psychoanalysis and telepathy. Her project, then, is to adumbrate the implications of the psychoanalytic notion of projective identification, with particular reference to the ways in which this concept can be considered to be a "doorway" from the traditional realm of psychoanalysis into the realm of the occult and paranormal. In particular, she considers the connections between projective identification and mind-reading, clairvoyance, and other well-known paranormal phenomena.

Hyenas are almost universally regarded as vile, scheming creatures, skulking in the alleyways of the animal kingdom. Scorned as little more than scavenging carrion-eaters, vandals and thieves, they have long been associated with the malevolent and macabre. This book offers an alternative view of these mistreated and misunderstood animals and proves that the hyena is in fact complex, intelligent and highly sociable.Hyena takes us on a tour of the hyena throughout history, detailing the magic, myth and ritual associated with this remarkable animal. Although shrouded in taboo, the hyena has been the source of and inspiration for talismanic objects since the ancient Greek and Roman civilizations. Many cultures use parts of the hyena – from its excrement and blood to its genitalia and hair – to make charms and totems that variously avert evil, promise virility and promote fertility. This book also considers portrayals of hyenas in modern popular culture, including The Lion King and The Life of Pi, in which they are often stereotyped as villains, cowardly henchmen or clowns, and their more impressive qualities ignored.Rightly returning hyenas to their proper place in the animal pantheon, this richly illustrated book will be enjoyed by any animal lover with an interest in the unusual and offbeat.