young children and later a perversion in which ones own body is taken
as the sexual object. He described a normal course of infant develop-
ment which includes a phase of primary narcissism, when the childs
first object choice is his own body. Optimally, this autoerotism
evolves into alloerotism, or love for others who represent the original
caretakers, which Freud called anaclitic (attachment) object choice.
In contrast, those whose love objects represent some aspect of them-
selves were said to exhibit narcissistic object choice. Freud also ex-
plained how frustrations, disappointments, and losses might lead to
secondary narcissism, a withdrawal from object love to self love after
the ability to love others has been established. In describing how pri-
mary narcissism develops into healthy object relations, Freud also
introduced the concept of the ego ideal. The investment of libido in
this ideal, he wrote, diminishes primary narcissism and becomes the
basis of moral development.
Key to Freuds theory is the assumption that the psyche originates
in a closed, or objectless, system (Sandler, Person, & Fonagy, 1991, p.
xvi). He believed that the newborn infant has no sense of others as dis-
tinct from itself, and that separateness and differentiation become pos-
sible only when enough libido has been retained through primary
narcissism to strengthen the rudimentary ego. Although Freud essen-
tially abandoned theorizing about narcissism after his 1914 essay, his
controversial ideas of how a self develops from objectlessness to object
relatedness would influence the unfolding of narcissism theory for dec-
ades after him.
While Freuds narcissist was most likely homosexual or female (in
his mind, those most likely to choose a mirror-image as a love object),
later interpreters of his theories have emphasized the existential
aloneness of the narcissistic character from the Freudian perspective
(Treurniet, 1991, p. 83). Withdrawn, noncommunicative, perhaps nega-
tivistic, this is someone who becomes overstimulated and loses bound-
aries when in the company of others too long. This person cannot
reconcile intense and overwhelming feelings of dependency with a nec-
essary belief in omnipotent self-sufficiency, and the conflict is ex-
pressed as a craving for admiration.
SANDY HOTCHKISS
but rather a process of forming ever more complex and realistic mental
representations of both self and others. She rejected Freuds notion of
psychosexual stages of development and offered in its place her own
theory of two states, or positions, of the ego and their associated af-
fects and defenses. The paranoid/schizoid position represents the
more primitive state and features an internal world of warring good
and bad objects which the immature self maintains in split fashion,
so that good and bad are always kept separate and never appear
simultaneously when projected externally.
There is a need to protect the self and its idealized objects from
the murderous objects that contain the split-off and projected aggres-
sion that originates in the infants self (Segal & Bell, 1991, p. 160).
Somewhere between three and six months of age, Klein postulated, the
child begins to recognize that good and bad can coexist in the same ob-
ject and feels gratitude, regret for attacking those who have provided
care, and a desire to offer reparation. Evolving into this depressive po-
sition, the child enters the ethical world. Klein wrote of narcissistic
withdrawal to an idealized internal object, but she thought that pri-
mary narcissism was no more than oral sadism. Like Freud after the
1914 essay, she was not specifically concerned with addressing narcis-
sism. Her contributions to narcissism theory are nevertheless signifi-
cant and include the elaboration of a concept of internal objects, the
description of primitive defense mechanisms associated with the less
differentiated paranoid/schizoid position, and explanations of the phe-
nomenon of envy.
Kleins narcissist is a deeply envious and paranoid individual who
has a JekyllandHyde drama playing out inside her head. She has
withdrawn from reality and teeters on the verge of psychosis. In her
internal world, she is all good, and all badness resides in others, who
want to attack her. Insecure about her own goodness, however, she
flies into a rage when she perceives others to be better than herself.
She cannot accept anything good from them, because to do so would
mean acknowledging their worth and separateness. So she hates their
goodness and devalues them, then fears retaliation.
sism as a cathexis of the ego thus lost its original meaning until 1950,
when Heinz Hartmann made the correction, calling narcissism a ca-
thexis of the self-representation within the ego (Hartmann, 1950).
With this refinement was born the concept of a self, as opposed to an
ego, psychology, and Hartmann is credited with paving the way to the-
ories of a distinct clinical pathology of the self that launched deeper
exploration into the etiology of narcissism.
For the next two decades, three major theorists approached the
concept of narcissism from different perspectives, each struggling with
the fragmented legacy left by Freud. Otto Kernberg (1975) emphasized
the aggressive aspects of pathological forms of narcissism related to
flaws in superego development. Margaret Mahler, a pediatrician whose
observations of young children at play became the basis of an elabora-
tion of Freuds controversial ideas on the development of object rela-
tions, described the evolution of early narcissism in the practicing
subphase of separation-individuation (Mahler, 1972). Her model would
inspire James Masterson (1981) to develop his theory of pathological
narcissism as a developmental arrest in this subphase.
Heinz Kohut (1971), from his roots in traditional drive/structural
and object relations theory, veered off on his own to create a whole
new paradigm that had more in common with Jung than Freud. Like
Jung, who had shown little interest in narcissism other than as the
shadow side of the process of individuation (Jacoby, 1990), Kohut
emphasized what Freud had originally hinted at: the essential nor-
malcy of something which becomes pathological only when normal
development is thwarted. Whereas Kernbergs theories are linked to
clinical interventions which urge the patient to give up infantile nar-
cissism in favor of object love, Kohut encouraged therapists to under-
stand and accept primitive forms of narcissism, allowing the patent to
use the therapist as an object of idealization and a source of mirroring
support for growth. Throughout the late 1970s and early 1980s, there
ensued a lively debate among proponents of Kernbergs more tradi-
tional thinking, those who espoused Kohuts innovative ideas, and the
followers of Mastersons Mahler-based developmental approach. Narcis-
sism and its treatment had become a central issue in psychoanalytic
circles, with clarity and unity more elusive than ever.
Kernbergs narcissist is an aggressive charactergrandiose, self-
absorbed, and exploitive, full of chronic envy and rage, and lacking in
values and empathybut superficially less fragmented than the near-
psychotic character described by Klein. This individual basically hates
and fears his parents but manages to keep his aggression in check by
putting on a show of competence. He has very little in the way of a
conscience and uses and discards people when he is not denying that
131
SANDY HOTCHKISS
he needs them at all. His inflated sense of himself protects him from
any awareness of his own shortcomings, but if his omnipotence falls,
he is awash with inferiority and insecurity.
If Kernbergs narcissist is someone in need of a moral tuneup,
Kohuts is a more pitiful character, a needy, depressed person with low
self-esteem, a deep sense of uncared-for worthlessness and rejection,
and a hunger for response and reassurance. She needs to idealize oth-
ers so that she can siphon off some of their wonderfulness to replenish
her depleted self. She collapses at the slightest hint of criticism and
has a temper tantrum if her expectations are not met. She needs ten-
der loving care to grow into the person she is meant to be.
Mastersons narcissist is a brash, exhibitionistic, selfassured indi-
vidual with a strong need for control and perfection, an emotional
two-year-old without the two-year-olds essential lovability. Her inter-
personal relationships are cold and exploitive, as her main interest in
others is in how they can be used to keep her feeling good about her-
self. When this is working, she does not feel good, she feels better
than. Her inflated self-image is impervious to depression, and she will
never admit to weakness.
SANDY HOTCHKISS
SANDY HOTCHKISS
SANDY HOTCHKISS
Later that day, I received the first of three lengthy e-mails from
Margaret in which she told me how depleted she was feeling both
physically and emotionally. She asked me to allow her to wallow in
her pain and promised that she would be more coherent when it lif-
ted. She told me she had lost both her children to disorders, but
that she was not a victim, just wounded. She praised my book,
thanked me for contacting her, and told me she was looking forward
to learning something more from me. She proposed the idea that I
might learn something as well from her experiences with her daugh-
ter, so that the bad would be turned into something good, worth-
while, and useful. Using dramatic language, she wrote of her
suffering, her survival, and her desire to summon a tow truck to haul
her and her daughter out of the depths of their shared pain. I was to
be that tow truck.
To this first e-mail, she attached what seemed to be the beginnings
of a story she was writing about the pivotal conflict with her daughter,
in which the mother character is leveled by a tornado called Envy and
the daughter speaks to the mother in cruel and haughty ways. Marga-
ret ended her first message by saying that she would be in contact la-
ter when things were more stable for her both physically and
emotionally. I wrote back simply that I would be there when she was
ready to proceed.
The following morning, I received a second e-mail from Margaret.
She asked me to bear with her, as she had a plan. Her plan included
soliciting the help of unnamed others by giving them my book and
somehow getting them to cooperate with getting treatment for her
daughter. Although still ill and miserable, she was feverishly organiz-
ing and delivering these letters and books. She joked that half of my
book sales might come from her city, as she planned to send a copy to
everyone she knew for Christmas.
There was another attachment, this a letter to her estranged
daughter. Intermittently referring to herself in the third person, she
used the concepts in my book to interpret her daughters behavior to
her, attributing the rageful outbursts to envy and stating that she
couldnt allow herself to be in a relationship with a daughter who tried
to obliterate her autonomy. She asked her daughter to acknowledge
that her behavior had become violent and controlling and warned her
that if they did not accept some help, she was in danger of the serious
and irreversible condition of narcissism. She told her about contacting
me, and how I would be the tow truck that would pull them from their
suffering. She wrote at some length of the progression of her own feel-
ings, of her daughters lost love for her, and of her intention to come
and get her. She vowed that they would find what they had lost, be-
138
cause mothers and daughters belong together. She pleaded with her
daughter to work with her, and with me.
By this time, my uneasiness with Margarets initial boundariless-
ness toward me had grown to alarm. Without any input from me, she
had concocted a fantasy of how I would rescue her and her daughter
from the clutches of what she was convinced was her daughters nar-
cissism. And in the process of revealing this plan to me, she had ex-
posed an even more egregious lack of boundaries with her daughter.
Most distressing was her utter lack of awareness of her own dynamics.
I wrote back immediately, carefully choosing my words to firmly
set the boundaries she had so far ignored and create a test of whether
she could benefit from a single phone consultation, which I had begun
to doubt deeply. I had offered my help, but now I was faced with
retracting it. I knew that I had to protect her from the shame that
would come if I popped her bubble too abruptly and the rage that she
might feel toward me for abandoning her after she had idealized my
book and invested me with her hope.
I began by telling her that we could not proceed until I had clari-
fied that, for both legal and ethical reasons, I could not provide phone
therapy to either her or her daughter. I expanded on what I had told
her on the phone about the nature of consultation, which I defined as
an opportunity for some personalized feedback in regard to issues that
my book had raised for her. I told her that if she lived near me, I
would be happy to work with her in more depth, but that given the
great distance between us, it would be in her best interests to seek
competent professional help in her own community.
Then, the test. I told her that if she wanted to proceed with a
phone consultation, I would recommend that she focus on herself ra-
ther than her daughter, so that we could use our limited time together
more productively. I reiterated for what seemed like the tenth time
that, if she would like to proceed, we could make an appointment when
she was feeling better. I acknowledged her despair and offered her the
hope of a better way of managing her relationship with her daughter,
and I finished strongly, saying that while I could not be her tow
truck, I could provide roadside assistance.
Another day passed, and I received what would be the final, and
longest, e-mail message yet. Margaret began by telling me that a book
consultation was not exactly what she had in mind. That should have
been the end of it, but Margaret was not finished. For four long pages,
she continued to describe the details of her conflict with her daughter,
interspersed with rhetorical questions that left me wondering if she ex-
pected to continue our e-mail correspondence despite having refused
the phone consultation. A new fantasy had captured her imagination
139
SANDY HOTCHKISS
that seemingly justified her outpouring: if I could not help her, maybe
she could help me, and through me, others. She invited me to pick her
brain. Her situation was special, she felt, and she could think of noth-
ing she had done that would create narcissism in her daughter. Then
she segued sharply from what was clearly her own humiliation to a
discussion of her daughters shame from childhood, which had always
been an enigma to her.
Finally, Margaret began to talk about herself and the abuse she
had suffered at the hands of her violent, character disordered, men-
tally ill mother. She wrote of being beaten and shamed, tormented at
school and at home, friendless, parentified, the family protector. She
alluded to having been indulged in some way. Yet she had triumphed
over her trauma, had grown up compassionate and loving. She had no
guilt or regrets about her parenting. So why had her daughter turned
into a hateful, raging narcissist at age 20?
My heart went out to her, but there was no common ground on
which we could meet to process all that she had shared. If I would
not be her tow truck, then there was nothing left for us but that she
should be of some service to me. She thanked me for everything I
had given her in writing my book, and in a postscript, referenced my
husband. It was then that I realized that she must have been the
person who, a few days previously, had contacted an art organization
he belongs to, trying to locate me. Most people track me down
through the professional channels listed in my authors bio, but Mar-
garet had zeroed in on something in the acknowledgments section of
my book that mentioned my husband is an artist. She told me, in
parting, that she and her husband were artists and that they had
admired my husbands work. She asked me to pass that along to
him. A little shiver ran down my spine as I felt she had invaded my
home.
Margaret had stirred many conflicting feelings in me. On the posi-
tive side, I felt compassion for her suffering and a desire to help her
sort through what had gone so terribly wrong with her daughter. But
at the same time, I also felt used, overwhelmed, apprehensive, and
strangely invisible, no more real than a character in a drama of her
invention. Despite my understanding of characterological issues, I had
been drawn into her web. With considerable effort, I resisted the bait
she had left me and wrote her back a short note thanking her for her
offer but declining to engage with her further in the way she had pro-
posed. I suggested again that she work with a competent professional
in her own community, and I expressed regret that I could not have
been more useful to her.
140
DISCUSSION
SANDY HOTCHKISS
battling it out, with love the longed-for but elusive winnerher love
constant, the Others withheld. Her descriptions of her daughters
childhood showed that for years Margaret had been projecting the
shame and wounding of her own past onto her daughter and rewriting
the drama with herself as the loving, patient mother she herself never
had. Her daughter was split, too, into a gentle kitten and a menacing
cougar. The incident that had triggered the estrangement involved
Margaret patronizingly scolding her daughter and asking for more
love, which had triggered a rageful response in her daughter. Margaret
could not perceive this as a daughter trying desperately to separate
and individuate but instead seemed to experience it as a re-enactment
of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her violent mother. Now,
her daughter had become the abuser and had resonated with the pro-
jection. Having lost her mother to mental illness, Margaret was now
convinced she was on the same slippery slope with her daughter, and
once again, she must fight for the happy ending she had been deprived
of with her own mother.
Margaret had come to the conclusion that her daughters contempt
and hatred toward her were manifestations of envy, yet she was totally
unaware of her own aggressive impulses toward her daughter, as ex-
pressed in her condescending attitude. Klein believed that primitive
envy is often hidden, split off, and silent. In Margarets request for
more love can be seen her envy of a child who had gotten what she had
not and therefore owed her something in return.
Margaret mused about how her daughter had become a narcissist
at age 20. Was it because she was so kind, considerate, and loving that
her daughter admired and loved her so much that she wanted to be
her? Or did her daughter come to hate her because she was so good? In
a rare moment of insight, Margaret told me that she had devoted her
life to parenting because her own chaotic childhood had made her
crave well-adjusted children. She wanted for them what had been
missing for her, and what she had missed most was a loving, caring,
calm, nurturing mother.
Masked in smothering love and superficial gratitude, Margarets
attitude toward both her daughter and me is essentially aggressive and
exploitive, revealing flaws in her superego development. Kernberg
describes how this defect occurs as the result of a fusion of real self ima-
ges, the ideal self, and the ideal object which prevents the development
of a more realistic self image and a genuine appreciation for others in
their separateness. The fusion is formed, Kernberg says, as a defense
against expressing rage over early deprivation. The resulting pathologi-
cal grandiose self of the narcissist presents as an inflated
selfconcept. In Margarets case, this self-concept is represented by her
142
SANDY HOTCHKISS
CONCLUSION
REFERENCES