Psychoanalysis and other Matters: Where are We Now? Edited by Judith Edwards. Published by  Routledge, London and New York, 2020;  205 pp, £34.99 paperback.

In a telling remark that occurs midway through Psychoanalysis and Other Matters, Judith Edwards mentions that, towards the end of his life, Bion was ‘sick and tired of hearing psychoanalytic theories’ (p. 103). I expect this will be a familiar feeling for many of us. But assuming the bath water and not the baby is the cause of one's irritation, this means finding ways to ensure that our theories are ‘useable’ (p. 186). How can we best describe psychoanalysis from the inside? The cumulative message of Edwards' edited collection of assorted papers is clear — the inside comes more sharply into view from the perspective of the outside. The title makes the point. It is only in relation to ‘other matters’ that we find ourselves fully engaged with the ‘unthought known’ dimension of our own disciplines, as well as the ‘not-known’ (p. 143) or the ‘as yet unknown’ (p. 114). The chapters, by and large, offer fruitful reflection on this central paradox.

As one of the most thoughtful contributors to the volume puts it, this is an ‘unusual collection of narratives’ (p. 172). I take it that Ute Eickelkamp is referring not only to the wide variety of themes on offer; but also, more importantly, to the general ‘spirit’ (p. 174) of freedom in which Edwards has approached her editorial task. Not surprisingly, we are encouraged by Edwards, in her freewheeling introduction, to enter into the chapters as the fancy takes us and to follow our own ‘thread of playful thinking’, rather than reading the book ‘straight through’ (p. xx). This is sound advice for the common reader coming to this ‘unusual’ compendium of essays. The piecemeal approach, however, is not an option for a conscientious reviewer, although in order to convey something of the spirit of ‘playful thinking’ in which the book seems to have been conceived, I shall try not to let my diligence get the better of me. Conscious of what the therapist, according to Winnicott, owes to ‘the natural and universal thing called playing’, Ed