Lacan: “desire is always desire for the Other.” The wholly, impossibly transcendent Other, pace Derrida and Levinas, is God. Desire is a response to a certain non-knowledge of the desire of the Other. This non-knowledge is Lacan’s objet a, the cause of the object of desire. The object of desire is an opening onto the actual desire of the Other. The anxiety of non-knowledge is unbearable, and so the subject fantasizes knowledge, speaking through symptom. Lacan asks us to imagine standing before a female praying mantis without knowing whether we are wearing the mask of a female or male. As is well-known, the female devours the male after mating with him. This is the anxiety before the Other, this is the objet a. The resultant symptom can be thought accordingly as a way of surmounting the enigma by way of the reactionary formation of a hypothesis that concerns the desire of the Other. Desire, we might say, embodies our non-knowledge with respect to the Other’s desire. Embodied in all relation is the sense that despite the fact that we are being addressed by the Other, we nonetheless do not know why the Other is addressing us. Put differently, we do not know the desire that animates the Other’s relation to us.
It is this non-knowledge with respect to the desire of the Other that generates the fantasy and the symptom. Within the Lacanian framework, the fantasy is not so much a wish for something we lack, but is rather an answer to the enigma of the Other’s desire. Fantasy, we could say, is a hypothesis as to what the Other desires. Through fantasy, the anxiety the subject encounters in the face of the enigma of the Other’s desire is thereby minimized. Even where the fantasy is relatively disagreeable, the answer to the enigma of the Other’s desire is nonetheless preferable to the anxiety-provoking non-knowledge of that desire. Consequently, it stands to reason that before the specter of the absolute Other, the transcendent God, one speaks in torrents, symptomatically. One hallucinates in doctrine, imagines in scripture, desires in belief.
Religion: a desire for the Other, before the Other. What the properly faithful believer requires is a skilled analyst capable of uncoiling the mess of anxiety that lies dormant within the mangled unconscious of the subject. Of course, when one symptom is made to disappear, another often emerges. Silence is difficult, and the object-cause prefers to enunciate. Nietzsche: in what way we, too, are still pious. The shadow of god, and so on. More symptoms of the same, eternal object-cause. The believer: a neurotic, and nothing besides. And yet, there is a sense in which the symptom is projected onto the very being of the Other and made to function as a system of actual properties. As Žižek puts it, “[t]he role of fantasy [is to] mediate between the formal symbolic structure and the positivity of objects we encounter in reality—that is to say, it provides a ‘schema’ according to which certain positive objects in reality can function as objects of desire, filling in the empty places opened up by the formal symbolic structure”. And when we substitute for the intersubjective Other the wholly transcendent, Levinasian Other, we get what I take to be a relatively compelling picture of religious belief. The fantasy is that which recedes into the background while structuring one’s relation to the Other. As such, fantasy creates an effect whereby the manner in which fantasy transforms the anxiety of non-knowledge experienced before the Other into actual properties that are ascribed to the Other appears to result entirely from the Other itself, and not from the subject’s desire.