100 books like Anti-Oedipus

Long before running into Norman O. Brown while on sabbatical leave at UC Santa Cruz, I was fascinated by this book’s attempt to re-assert the priority of psychology over the political economy and history by claiming that infants’ refusal to accept the limits of parental care creates separation-anxiety that causes the historical dynamic known as “progress.”

But it wasn’t until much later that Deleuze and Guattari’s claim that capitalism represses the death instinct provided an alternative explanation that rescued Brown’s insights for me by putting the explanation back in the realm of political economy and history–because dependence on the market produces separation anxiety, too.

This is a powerful rewriting of Freudian theory from one of the giants of the Frankfurt School, whom I was fortunate enough to study with at UC San Diego. Rather than accept “reality” as a given, Marcuse transforms Freud’s “reality-principle” into the “performance principle”–we perform far more work than reality itself requires because the capitalist system is profiting from our labor. We are thus subjected not just to repression but to surplus repression–which corresponds to the surplus value capitalists extract from our labor power and our purchasing power.

I was always intrigued but also perplexed by psychoanalysis, and this amazing book completely transformed my understanding of how the human psyche operates under capitalism.

Lasch’s critique of widespread culture-induced narcissism was recommended to me when it first came out by my mother, of all people. It hasn't held up well, but despite its one-sidedness, it still helped me understand the impact of capitalism on the Western psyche. 

Although it covers some of the same ground as Richard Sennett’s earlier Fall of Public Man, I really benefited from the way it couched its critique in psychoanalytic terms, drawing on the work of respected analysts Heinz Kohut and Otto Kernberg.

Malcolm’s book is as one-sided as Lasch’s, but for me, it was a breath of fresh air because it considers narcissism to be a positive rather than a negative cultural development.

It, too, couches its explanation of widespread narcissism in psychoanalytic terms, which I consider a plus. However, in addition to being one-sided, the way it considers an entire generation to be narcissistic bothered me as an overgeneralization.

I have had a huge crush on Herr Professor Sigmund Freud since my undergraduate days. Back in the nineteenth century, most physicians locked up “lunatics” in local insane asylums with no endeavour to treat mental illness at all, but Freud challenged that negligent approach by having created the discipline of “talking therapy”, engaging in a very warm-hearted and sympathetic manner with his many analysands. 

His classic monograph of 1905 on sexuality has taught me so very much throughout my career and has helped me to speak to my patients with frankness and curiosity about the challenges of their sexual histories and sexual preoccupations. In my estimation, Freud deserves credit not only as the founder of modern psychotherapy but also as the creator of contemporary sexology as well.

Patricia Highsmith is the original queen of psychological thrillers. This book, later made into a film by Hitchcock, was the inspiration for my novel. I wanted to see how the story could play out in modern times with young women as the lead characters. While I used Strangers on a Train as the jumping-off point, my own story went in slightly different directions.

In Highsmith’s book, when the main character is pulled into what he believes is an idle question on how one could get away with the perfect murder, he has to determine how far he’ll go to escape being blamed for a very real crime. Highsmith excels at getting ordinary people into extraordinary circumstances and then pushing them to see how they will react.

I first read this book in graduate school, and it completely changed the way I think about schizophrenia and the daily experience of living with a mental illness.

This memoir chronicles Saks’ experiences attending Oxford University and then Yale Law School with ever more progressive symptoms of schizophrenia; she details her therapy sessions as she worked closely with a psychoanalyst and then the journey to study psychoanalysis herself. I was captivated by Saks’ experience and her skilled storytelling.

Schizophrenia is a mental illness that most commonly emerges in the Quarterlife years and frequently after people have gone away to college. This book is a gift to understanding this experience more fully or for those who want to feel less alone in the struggle with mental and emotional anguish during this time of life. 

Upon my initial reading, this book profoundly impacted me, reshaping my perspective as an emerging psychotherapist and memoirist. Carl Jung, rather than detailing his professional achievements, delves into his personal struggles and inner life, resonating deeply with my own experiences.

I was captivated by his journey from his earliest memories to his later years as he continued to explore his psyche and the collective unconscious. Standing beside him through his narrative, I was struck by his raw honesty, particularly remarkable for an 83-year-old man articulating his deepest emotional truths.

This book inspires me to embrace my dreams and imagination as tools for self-exploration and understanding, highlighting a path to inner discovery and wholeness that is accessible to anyone willing to engage deeply with their inner world.

MacGregor’s book blew my mind when I first read it. This masterful history reveals the discovery of a secret treasure, one that eventually transformed the art world.

In the 19th and 20th centuries, mental asylums in Europe began experimenting with art therapy, allowing psychotic inmates access to drawing materials. Over seventeen chapters jam-packed with astounding images, MacGregor’s book tracks the evolution of what is now known as Outsider art and the profound effect it had (and continues to have) on avant-garde art.

I love MacGregor’s ability to marry the rigor of a scholar with a humane and sensitive commentary on the lives of these forgotten "schizophrenic masters.” This book inspired my own research into schizophrenic art and is my go-to source for inspiration on this theme. 

Kornbluh’s book is an incredible revelation. It shows that psychoanalysis provides an insistence on a formal interpretation that allows it to have a privileged critical position relative to capitalism. By showing capitalism’s formal impasses, psychoanalysis provides the perfect supplement to a Marxist critique and opens up possibilities for envisioning a non-capitalist future. The book uses realist fiction as a way to envision the formal critique of capitalism and really makes one want to read the books under discussion. I have taught this book to students, and they love it more than any other I’ve ever used.