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In the spirit of the work in question, I am constrained to begin on a personal note: thirty-odd years of reviewing psychoanalytic books did not prepare me for reviewing this one. But then, there has probably never been a psychoanalytic book quite like this one, nor a psychoanalyst quite like John Gedo. A bouillabaisse of autobiographical narrative, irascible vendetta, serious theoretical exegesis, lofty self-aggrandisement and acerbic critical disquisition, the book captures