Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Werner Muensterberger
Tapa dura 21 nov 1993 / Tapa dura desde EUR 26,88
[Citado por Changeux, Sobre lo verdadero, pg. 139]
From rare books, valuable sculpture and paintings, the relics of saints, and
porcelain and other precious items, through stamps, textiles, military
ribbons, and shells, to baseball cards, teddy bears, and mugs, an amazing
variety of objects have engaged and even obsessed collectors through the
ages. With this captivating book the psychoanalyst Werner Muensterberger
provides the first extensive psychological examination of the emotional
sources of the never-ending longing for yet another collectible.
Muensterberger's roster of driven acquisition-hunters includes the
dedicated, the serious, and the infatuated, whose chronic restlessness can
be curbed --and then merely temporarily-- only by purchasing, discovering,
receiving, or even stealing a new "find." In an easy, conversational style, the
author discusses the eccentricities of heads of state, literary figures, artists,
and psychoanalytic patients, all possessed by a need for magic relief from
despair and helplessness--and for the self-healing implied in the phrase "I
can't live without it!" The sketches here are diverse indeed: Walter
Benjamin, Mario Praz, Catherine the Great, Poggio Bracciolini, Brunelleschi,
and Jean de Berry, among others.
The central part of the work explores in detail the personal circumstances
and life history of three individuals: a contemporary collector, Martin G; the
celebrated British book and manuscript collector Sir Thomas Phillipps, who
wanted one copy of every book in the world; and the great French novelist
What lies at the root of the human passion for collecting, which Werner
Muensterberger, a psychoanalyst, defines as "the selecting, gathering and
keeping of objects of subjective value"?
the desire for self-assertion through ownership and a sense of guilt over
narcissistic urges and pride."
He details some of the more extreme forms that the urge to collect has
taken, from the man who collected every form of bell because he had been
reared in a Catholic missionary orphanage where "only the sound of the
bells of the little mission church had seemed to provide some source of
comfort," to the Marquess of Bath, whose collection of Churchilliana included
one of Sir Winston's famous cigars, half-smoked, which a bar attendant had
preserved.
As well as exploring why people collect, Dr. Muensterberger applies what he
finds to the history of humankind. Preliterate cultures, fearing death, often
saw magical significance in the vital parts of others. Some would therefore
collect human heads. In the Middle Ages, this same urge was applied to
sainted beings, which led to the collection of human relics: hair, bones,
skulls, fingernail parings, Christ's prepuce.
The increasing worldliness of the Renaissance aroused a passion for
antiquity and objects of a scientific nature. In the 17th century, wealthy
Dutch burghers amassed art and tulip bulbs. But always, insists the author,
the motive was anxiety and the need for self-assurance.
Most engagingly of all, Dr. Muensterberger draws three psychobiographical
portraits. These are of Sir Thomas Phillipps (1792-1872), who sought to
overcome his illegitimate birth by accumulating one copy of every book in
the world, be it printed or in manuscript; Honore de Balzac, who, the author
believes, never got over his mother's emotional coldness to him, and thus
collected indiscriminately, and Martin G., a collector of Oriental artifacts
whom the author knew.
In the book's most dramatic passage, Martin G., a successful businessman
compensating for his father's death in the Far East during World War II,
tracks down in Hong Kong what may or may not be a brilliant forgery.
Anticlimactically, the author decides that whether it was truly a forgery
"makes no difference with respect to the motivating factors." He concludes
that the story "should only be a reminder that, inevitably, the collected
objects remain just that: objects."
"They may elicit feelings," he adds, "but they have no life."
Maybe so, but this reader still wanted to know if Martin G. had been
bamboozled.
Unfortunately, despite all the detail that Dr. Muensterberger brings to his
theory, he doesn't really develop it satisfactorily. No matter how far or wide
he ranges, he always comes back to some increasingly obvious variation of
his initial statement. Thus, after describing an outbreak of Black Death in
the Netherlands and connecting it to the eruption of tulipomania, he
concludes: "It is apparent that the admiration for the object not only gives