Thinking Like Melanie: Zizek, Hitchcock, Psychoanalysis
Well, uh, these are for my sister, for her birthday, see, and uh, as she’s only gonna be eleven, I, I wouldn’t want a pair of birds that were… too demonstrative.
-“Mitch Brenner,” The Birds
It would be wonderful if psychoanalysis was either a science or a huge mistake. In the first case, it would be easily standardized. In the second, there’d be nothing to talk about.
Unfortunately, psychoanalysis is neither. It is an art, like any feat of understanding between people. It is easy to create plausible, intelligent-sounding psychoanalytic “readings” that are spectacularly wrong. This doesn’t prove anything. Blaming psychoanalysis for these misinterpretations would be like blaming painting for Thomas Kinkade.
Take, for example, this laudable effort by Slavoj Zizek to interpret The Birds:
This video is terrific for two reasons: a) the subtitles are, um, interesting, and b) Zizek says “I want to fuck Mitch.”
But Zizek’s take on the film is not terrific. The question is not, “Why do the birds attack?” The question is, “Why do we care so much?”
Honestly, as monsters go, the birds are super lame. The Birds always seemed comedic to me: an entire movie about people swatting at what are, in essence, giant horseflies. The birds kill — wait for it — two people. Considering there are thousands of them, and they can find their way inside houses, that is a pretty sad total.
Zizek is right that the birds are tearing up reality, but he misses the fact that we want them to tear up reality. The birds are not some airforce in the service of the superego, but rather a visual analogue for ecstasy (jouissance), when beauty and desire rip us open.
For example, a bird attacks Melanie before Mitch invites her for dinner, and the shock of that experience spurs him to make the offer. Zizek is also right about removing the monster: if you do, you have Melanie following Mitch to Bodega Bay, and Mitch responding warmly. The two of them are clashing like Beatrice and Benedick, and risking the security of their respective worlds. The mother is not the bird, but rather the invisible fabric that the bird manages to pierce.
Ecstasy is nice in theory. In practice, it can be really frightening. In The Birds, the physical danger is significant but anticlimactic. One can escape the birds in cars, in phone booths, and so on. What these characters cannot do is handle this perceived threat: as they wave their arms around, batting away little birds, their hysteria provokes anxiety in us. The same language of hysteria recurs near the end of the film, when the newscaster reports that local authorities cannot deal with the birds. In fact, the “authorities” may have to call in the National Guard, a symbol of the superego if ever there was one.
If the birds represented Mitch’s mother, they would hardly be interested in killing an ex-lover or terrorizing children. If, on the other hand, they represent desire, then they certainly are a threat to old flames, to the established order, and especially to “innocent” children.
Zizek really does think like Melanie. Naturally, that means saying “I want to fuck Mitch.” But he says something else as well, something Melanie is saying to herself the whole way across the bay: what am I doing?!