Word: freudianly
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...work, like Louise Bourgeois's or Lee Krasner's, gives a powerful sense of womanly experience. Forms enfold one another, signaling an ambient sense of protection and sexual comfort -- an imagery of nurture, plainly felt and directly expressed, whose totem is the Kleinian breast rather than the Freudian phallus...
...most people, the thought of publicly disclosing their sexual secrets is the stuff of Freudian nightmares. But last year, after Martin (not his real name), an electrical worker, was sued by his former girlfriend in New York City, he was required to answer a lawyer's questions on intimate details of his sexual activities: "Did you ever suffer from blisters or sores on your penis or genitals?" "Did you ever have difficulty achieving or keeping an erection during sexual intercourse?" Martin discovered that the true fury of hell is not a woman scorned but a woman who contracts genital herpes...
...stage effects are harder to bring off for modern audiences than a manifestation of the supernatural. Try as directors may for some Freudian hallucinatory explanation of Macbeth, for example, the story makes little sense unless the witches are actual witches. This doesn't mean the supernatural must be portrayed as exotic: the most chilling thing about those women might be their normality, as if they were plump, middle-aged matrons nattering across a backyard fence about their ability to conjure spirits. That very perception of character seems to have guided Geraldine Page in a less malevolent but equally necromantic role...
...Alabama for peddling uppers and downers. "I needed the money," he tells the two physician friends who have been charged with overseeing his probation. Now Tom, alcoholism temporarily in control, needs to resume his psychiatric practice. The trouble is, no one in Feliciana seems to require the old- fashioned Freudian counseling he has to offer...
Some people's attachment is sentimental, not, of course, to imply Freudian. "When I was a freshman in high school in Detroit, I had to have a place that I could tell my parents I was going," says Jeff M. King '88. "So my girlfriend and I would constantly go to the Electric Light Room, a preppy arcade that sold milkshakes, or to the Beehive, a burn-out, sleazy arcade that was seriously across the railroad tracks, and we'd always play Caterpillar. Of course sometimes we'd just go to the park and make out. But now whenever...