‘A state of mourning is something that the late twentieth century has been uniquely unable to achieve. A culture based on the interchongeobility of products and people, a throw-away culture, is not conducive to mourning...Inanimate objects hove replaced human ideals. A culture of ‘virtual reality’ which finds it difficult to distinguish between the living and the inanimate has been created - a culture of the undead. This culture is not grounded on human relationships but in the destruction of them.’ In this book, Christina Wieland offers the reader a far-reaching and devastating critique of masculinity, femininity, and contemporary culture. Drawing inspiration from the work of Melanie Klein, the author demonstrates how the Western psyche is based upon denial of the power of the mother, and the elevation of the fother into a repressive, authoritorion figure. This act of universal motricide has wrought havoc throughout Western culture. As Wieland graphically illustrates, both women and men ore denied the opportunity to mourn their separation from the mother, but must contend instead with the guilt that surrounds her murder, and the ever-present terror of her vengeful return – as ‘the undead mother’. Re-appraising masculinity and femininity, the author re-visits a wide and fascinating range of myths, fairytales and stories. Her critique casts new light on the writings of Freud, Klein, Kristeva and Irigaray. Her vivid presentations of clinical material also show how ihe undead mother mokes her presence felt in the consuhing room, and the steps which con be taken towards more genuine, reparative mourning.

"'A state of mourning is something that the late Twentieth Century has been uniquely unable to achieve. A culture based on the interchangeability of products and people, and a throw-away culture, is not conducive to mourning...Inanimate objects have replaced human ideals. A culture of 'virtual reality' which finds it difficult to distinguish between the living and the inanimate has been created - a culture of the undead. This culture is not grounded on human relationships but in the destruction of them.'In this book, Christina Wieland offers the reader a far-reaching and devastating critique of masculinity, femininity and contemporary culture. Drawing inspiration from the work of Melanie Klein, the author demonstrates how the Western psyche is based upon denial of the power of the mother, and the elevation of the father into the repressive, authoritarian figure. This act of universal matricide has wrought havoc throughout Western culture. As Weiland graphically illustrates, both women and men are denied the opportunity to mourn their separation from their mother, but must contend instead with the guilt that surrounds her murder, and the ever-present terror of her vengeful return - as 'the undead mother'. Re-appraising masculinity and femininity, the author re-visits a wide and fascinating range of myths, fairytales and stories. Her critique casts new light on the writings of Freud, Kelin, Kristeva and Irigaray. Her vivid presentations of clinical material also show how the undead mother makes her presence felt in the consulting room, and the steps which can be taken towards more genuine, reparative mourning."--Provided by publisher.

The Dead Mother brings together original essays in honour of André Green. Written by distinguished psychoanalysts, the collection develops the theme of his most famous paper of the same title, and describes the value of the dead mother to other areas of clinical interest: psychic reality, borderline phenomena, passions and identification. The concept of the 'dead mother' describes a clinical phenomenon, sometimes difficult to identify, but always present in a substantial number of patients. It describes a process by which the image of a living and loving mother is transformed into a distant figure; a toneless, practically inanimate, dead parent. In reality, the mother remains alive, but she has psychically 'died' for the child. This produces a depression in the child, who carries these feelings within him into adult life, as the experience of the loss of the mother's love is followed by the loss of meaning in life. Nothing makes sense any more for the child, but life seems to continue under the appearance of normality. The Dead Mother is a valuable contribution to literature on psychoanalytic and psychotheraputic approaches to grief, loss and depression.

Important and provocative, The Undead examines why even with the tools of advanced technology, what we think of as life and death, consciousness and nonconsciousness, is not exactly clear and how this problem has been further complicated by the business of organ harvesting. Dick Teresi, a science writer with a dark sense of humor, manages to make this story entertaining, informative, and accessible as he shows how death determination has become more complicated than ever. Teresi introduces us to brain-death experts, hospice workers, undertakers, coma specialists and those who have recovered from coma, organ transplant surgeons and organ procurers, anesthesiologists who study pain in legally dead patients, doctors who have saved living patients from organ harvests, nurses who care for beating-heart cadavers, ICU doctors who feel subtly pressured to declare patients dead rather than save them, and many others. Much of what they have to say is shocking. Teresi also provides a brief history of how death has been determined from the times of the ancient Egyptians and the Incas through the twenty-first century. And he draws on the writings and theories of celebrated scientists, doctors, and researchers—Jacques-Bénigne Winslow, Sherwin Nuland, Harvey Cushing, and Lynn Margulis, among others—to reveal how theories about dying and death have changed. With The Undead, Teresi makes us think twice about how the medical community decides when someone is dead.

Wieland argues that the Western psyche is based upon denial of the power of the mother. Through clinical material and re-readings of myths, fairytales, and other cultural artefacts, she demonstrates how this act of universal matricide has wrought havoc.

In the next book in the Half Moon Hollow paranormal romance series, Libby (a widow-turned-vampire) struggles with her transition, and finds out it sucks to be the only vampire member of the PTA… Widow Libby Stratton arranged to be turned into a vampire after she was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. It wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had, but she was desperate—she’s not about to leave her seven-year-old son to be raised by her rigid, overbearing in-laws. On top of transition issues, like being ignored at PTA meetings and other mothers rejecting her son’s invitations for sleepovers, Libby must deal with her father-in-law’s attempts to declare her an unfit mother, her growing feelings for Wade—a tattooed redneck single dad she met while hiding in a closet at Back to School Night—and the return of her sire, who hasn’t stopped thinking about brave, snarky Libby since he turned her. With the help of her new vampire circle, Libby negotiates this unfamiliar quagmire of legal troubles, parental duties, relationships, and, as always in Molly Harper’s distinct, comedic novels, “characters you can’t help but fall in love with” (RT Book Reviews).

In his new novel, John Ajvide Lindqvist does for zombies what his previous novel, Let the Right One In, did for vampires. Across Stockholm the power grid has gone crazy. In the morgue and in cemeteries, the recently deceased are waking up. One grandfather is alight with hope that his grandson will be returned, but one husband is aghast at what his adored wife has become. A horror novel that transcends its genre by showing what the return of the dead might really mean to those who loved them.