Pangs of love

The pain of love… The incurable wound of human history. The pain that grips people, which in every age is thought to have said all the words that can be said about it. A rewritten destiny where turning one’s head can’t prevent what’s going to happen and the enemy is within us.

Patrick Avrane describes this pain as follows: “The person who experiences pain, whether reserved or talkative, alone or in a crowd, becomes a hero when faced with the greatest of disasters, namely the loss of a love. Overcoming this disaster brings one one step closer to humanity; it is to leave the beloved behind and return from hell, just like Orpheus.”

In literature, cinema, theater or in everyday conversations, everyone looks at this feeling from the point of injury. The frustration that everyone experiences is unique. “Oh, have people ever been this miserable before me?” Werther asked. I mean, it’s not unfair. When the pains he experienced exceeded the countries and the fire of Werther engulfed everyone; Banned on the grounds that it drives young people to commit suicide, this book tells all of us something about love. Goethe wrote this book based on his own life. “I have lived, loved and suffered so much!” Putting this event, which he said, on paper, distanced himself from the event. Thus, the subject’s fantasy of killing a part of himself was realized by Werther, not Goethe. Suicide in an imaginary world protected Goethe from taking action. As Patrick Avrane puts it: “In the pain of love the lover dies like Werther and the subject survives like Goethe. The deceased is another; although it is another, part of the self.”

When it comes to the explanations of psychoanalysis about love, the distinction between Lacan’s ideal self and ego ideal draws attention. When these two coincide, that is, when you find your ideal image in the other, love arises. In love, the person presents the other an ideal image that he does not have. At the same time, the being in love is an idealized person. Sometimes things don’t work out, we’re rejected by the loved one, and we’re left alone with the love we’ve been beaten by, just like Werther. Werther, who could not cope with this pain and died, is Goethe’s ego ideal. Goethe, who could not meet his expectations, would kill me ideally to protect his love object. Because it is not the ideal self that dies in the pain of love that cannot be expressed through art, but the object of love without a doubt. The writer, the director, the poet, whoever he is, his pain; By transferring it to us with the art in which he has the opportunity to express himself, he does not stop the word he directed to the other. As Patrick Avrane said; “Pain is a sign of the permanence of love. Unlike mourning, it does not transform its object into something insignificant, but perpetuates it.”

“When the lover’s eyes turn away, the mirror in which the ideal self is reflected is broken.”

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