In Civilization and Its Discontents, Sigmund Freud (1961) warns us that any deep connection we feel toward one another is nothing more than the vestigial remnants of our egos' immature past. These statements serve as a response to, and a refutation of, his colleague Romain Rolland's conceptualization of the oceanic feeling-the embodied sense of a vast, intrinsic connectedness between all people. Freud argued that Rolland's sensation stems not from true limitlessness, but to a prior, puerile state of the ego, one that might only ultimately seek "the restoration of limitless narcissism" (p. 20). For Freud, our capacity to coexist comes at the cost of sublimating this primal desire-it is the classic formulation of the reality principle, the very brokerage of civilization, a claim that serves as the bedrock of much of Freud's most influential work, and one that continues to manifest in several elements of contemporary thought regarding subjectivity.In her most recent book, Flesh of My Flesh, film scholar Kaja Silverman seeks to resuscitate the oceanic feeling, suggesting it still has much bearing upon our psychosocial lives and that the repression of this feeling-of our analogous relationship with one another-drives the modern conditions of apathy and alienation. Silverman, herself theoretically committed to (Lacanian) psychoanalysis, unearths and develops contradictions within Freud's work that, despite his strong position, help to illustrate this point. In doing so, she establishes a critique of the Western obsession with individuality that places the radically differentiated subject at the epicenter of the social imaginary. Flesh of My Flesh is organized in two sections, titled simply "Then" and "Now," designating two chronological moments in which the notion of analogy was taken up by various artists and philosophers. "Then" centers on the late 19th and early 20th centuries, taking up the Freudian strand, as well as work by Nietzsche, Rilke, and Salomé. Silverman links this diverse assemblage of individuals via an extended meditation on the myth of Orpheus, rather than Oedipus, as the foundational heuristic for the psychoanalytic condition of lack. Focusing on three modern artists' work-Terrence Malick, James Coleman, and Gerhard Richter-"Now" illuminates how analogy has fared throughout the horrors of the 20th century, as well as how it might inform a means for rescuing forgotten elements of history and illuminating the shadowy corners that plague social and psychic existence.