Vitalpoetics

A Journal of Critical Literary Theory

The Engine Room of Psychosis: Machines in the Cosmology of Anthony Mannix


Gareth Jenkins (University of Wollongong)
Cite Article: Vitalpoetics, Vol.1 No.1, January 2008

The written work of the Australian art-maker Anthony Mannix (1953-) is predominantly contained in the singular artists’ books he has created over the last 25 years. Mannix has created over 70 such works and they contain writings in numerous forms, including diary, prose-poetry, short story, social commentary, philosophical observation and pictorial contextualisation. Diagnosed with schizophrenia in the 1980’s, Mannix’s work is primarily an exploration of his experience of psychosis, through which he feels he gains access to the unconscious, erotic landscapes into which he then travels. Thus Mannix writes: “my desire has always been paramount and fanatical to reach the ‘core’ of the unconscious via psychosis and chaos” (mo046: Light 46)1. At times Mannix conceives of such a psychotic ‘core’ as a machine – the ‘engine room’. Indeed, machines feature prominently throughout the Mannix oeuvre. This article will investigate the manner in which the notion of the ‘machine’ features in the creative and psychotic cosmology of Anthony Mannix.

mo052: The Machines, or a Concise History of the Machine (as far as i know them) is perhaps the first exploration of the machine by Mannix. This series of works will be discussed with reference to the other machines that have come, over time, to inhabit his reality. Mannix details the inspiration for this first series of textual drawings in mo001: Journal of a Madman No. 4 where he writes:

In the winter of 1985, Philip Hammial came to my flat at Crown St and asked if i would illustrate his book of Poetry. I agreed and drew more than a score of illustrations in a week. They were strange Vehicular entities to match his vehicle poems. The book was of course entitled, “Vehicles”2: after which the strange, little animated Vehicles became a permanent recurrence in my drawing. I in turn, one very psychotic night and morning wrote: ‘The Concise History of the Machine’. a score or more of little poems relating to the Machine which were recorded by Graeme Revell for a section of a European distributed record. (81)3

Referring again to the first work in this series, Mannix offers further details regarding the its genesis: “this is machine No 1 of a dozen or so survivors from my writing days during 1984-85…These machines were done all together and with tailored “designs” at the Economic Pacific Hotel During 1986 while my mother was dying – i will paste the works in in total in this, or another like it…Journal” (mo002: Journal of a Madman No.5 43). This quotation is taken from mo002: Journal of a Madman No. 5 and scattered throughout the following 15 pages appear nine of the works Mannix writes of. Another copy of these works were found in a large box of miscellaneous writings. From these two sources a series of nine works have been compiled. This includes two versions of number one, which contain the same text but different drawings. Number ten is also based on this text but again is accompanied by a different pictorial element.

As Mannix suggests in the first passage quoted, these works form the basis for a collaboration with the composer Graeme Revell. Entitled A Concise History of the Machine, it features Mannix reading these works with a musical score by Revell. Here Mannix reads fifteen individual “Machine” pieces – thus the recording is the most complete record of the original textual creations. This work appears on the record, A Bead To A Small Mouth, released in 1989 on the Barooni Music label. Thus the “Machine” works are unique in the Mannix oeuvre as they engage in each of the major aspects of Mannix’s creative practice: the textual, pictographic and sonic.4

Mannix describes these works as “little poems” and it is clear that the pictorial aspects of language are being emphasised. The handwritten script is embellished to highlight the design potential of letters as shapes. The language is compressed and each work is self-contained, in the mode of a poem or prose-poem. The text is often written around the accompanying drawing and regularly the drawing and the text intersect; these facts and the decorative nature of the script serve to present a unified picture-plane in which the pictorial and the textual complement one another.5 Mannix describes the process of creating integrated works of the pictorial and the textual as akin to welding with a powerful and precise machine: “The marvel I think one never accepts is that immense constant Potency where by with nothing more than a pen one can weld together picture and word as if one is using precise and powerful means of machinery that inchoate point is the end of the welding tip where everything is flux” (mo012: Journal of a Madman 1994-95 88).

As has been noted, this is a series of self-contained works and, whilst numbered, there appears no be no central narrative which the works collectively constitute. Rather, each piece is a variation on a central structural schema: a rectangular shape defines the picture-plane within the body of the page. Each text begins “The Machine” and proceeds to describe the working of just this singular contraption. All, except one, have an accompanying line-work drawing depicting abstracted mechanised shapes: clocks, dials and spirals predominate. The lack of perfect symmetry with which these mechanised shapes are rendered gives them organic overtones. This is also reflected in the texts, as the machines spoken of are animate, powerful and often predatory, exhibiting control over the humans that come to interact with them. In this respect they echo various “influencing machines” described by individuals who have experienced schizophrenia. Victor Tausk writes the following in his work: ‘On the Origin of the Influencing Machine in Schizophrenia’:

The schizophrenic influencing machine is a mechanism of a mystical nature. The patients are able to give only vague hints of its construction. It consists of boxes, cranks, levers, wheels, buttons, wires, batteries and the like…All the discoveries of mankind, however, are regarded as inadequate to explain the marvellous powers of this machine, by which the patients feel themselves persecuted. (qtd in Prinzhorn’s Weiss 49)

Likewise, Mannix’s machines become emblematic of an animated psychotic force engaging in sporadic dialogue with rationality.6 As with Tausk’s notion of the “influencing machine”, Mannix’s devices are indeed mysterious and powerful, portrayed, at times, as inflicting themselves upon individuals. This can be seen in Machine No. 10.

…the Machine appears and
disappears with relish and One is
Liable to find oneself encumbered
with it at the most inappropriate
and inopportune of times; or
alternatively, grow so fond of it
that its Disappearance comes
as a catastrophic blow. (mo052 11)

Here the machine is beyond the control of the individual and in fact seems to do the opposite to that which is desired. The image that accompanies this text depicts a device made up of interlaced cogs and dials. The largest and foundational cog appears to be internally cracked; all the cogs lack symmetry, suggesting the organic, unstable nature of the device that “appears and disappears with Relish”.

In Machine No. 8 it is not an individual that is plagued by the device but humanity itself; a humanity that is being progressively fed into the contraption:

The Machine is used solely for
executions, and contained
therein on black steel walls
displayed with all pre-eminent grace
as in the sancity of a museum are all
the devices of the TRADE, and as each
member of the human Race awaits,
Singularly, in prolepsis up on the
dimpled IRON Ramp, there comes the
Regular sounds (with accompanying
intervals) of the Machine’s’ function
function being sated…’ (mo052 9)

It is possible that this Machine is an unlabelled metaphor for Western society and the capitalist economic system. The emphasis on the word “TRADE” through capitalisation, and Mannix’s writings regarding Machine No. 9 make this interpretation more plausible. Machine No. 9 “produces articles again and again and again to the same Design” (mo052 10). Paradoxically, “the articles it’s production / enshoes are all unique, are all / individual, for the machine with its / thoroughness and totality marks, scars, / each article with the profundity of / itself; trade mark, trade-name, patent, / Place of Manufacture, etc., , and in / doing so, ensures that each such article is struck in it’s own base / image…” (10). In this formulation each “article” is a human being, created in the “image” of god – the machine or manufacturer: a product, individualised by the “trade mark” or “trade name”. Perhaps Mannix is emphasising the all-pervading nature of the capitalist system: humans seek to define themselves through brand names whilst simultaneously ensuring their uniformity.

A concern with trade and materialism can also be recognised in the functioning of a machine that consumes everyone in society for the purposes of homogenisation. Such a machine features in Mannix’s work The Demise where he writes: “The swiss clock is alive and well, AND growing. Soon there will be a place for us all in it. excentrics to the left please and then INTO the mechanism. Those normal or pretending so for their reasons up front, ACHTENSION” (mo049: Demise 14). The ‘normal’ individuals are those able to adhere to the regularity of the clock’s time, thus they reside on its face – the rest are hidden in the workings of the device. Again this machine is all-powerful and humanity’s consumption is inevitability.

In another example of such sentiments, Machine No. 4, a complex clock which is “heir to the property of the human race…” functions by “Constantly setting and resetting itself, in the anticipation of the DOOM of it’s Masters” (5). Clocks appear repeatedly in the Machine series and often the function of the Machine is related to the control or manipulate of time. Time again features in Machine No. 6:

The Machine of Perpetual Motion
defies description, however, somewhere
in its inert core are lying the past,
the Present, and the future, and
this trio are involved in a
ProFligacy,
with open gaping jaws and
Rampant Genitalia that is ‘Precis’,
& competent to the point of cold-
bloodness and for which there is
no PREhensiLity…… (7)

It is possible that Mannix was influenced in this work by Heinrich Anton Müller, who during certain stages of his creative life “was occupied with the design and construction of perpetual motion machines, and with covering the walls of his room with drawings of a symbolic nature” (MacGregor 305). Mannix singles out as inspirational, artists who have also experienced mental illness: in particular Müller who, along with Adolf Wölfli, is one of the most important artists in the historical formulation of Art Brut. Mannix suggest that his own drawing of a “double-figure”: a figure with two heads that join in a fold reminiscent of a vagina, is one of the “consistent ‘designs’ i have drawn over the last decade…[He goes on to contextualise it in the following manner]… Sometimes i look at them and whimsically think that they are my mother and father looking at me, looking over me and talking while i am little in the cot. Definitely, the greatest master of them is Heinrich Anton Müller, the art Brut German whom Picasso studied at the Heidlberg Collection of art Brut” (mo001: Journal of a Madman No.4 4). The often-reproduced image of Müller’s mechanic construction of caged cascading wheels7 resonates with Mannix’s own machines and their (often) interlocking wheels and cogs.

Mannix’s “Machine of Perpetual Motion” displays his pervasive interest in paradox. The machine is in “Perpetual Motion” yet its core is inert. Within such an inert core exist the divisions of time – past, present and future – engaged in an activity (which contradicts the “inert” nature of this core) of extravagant, organic interaction that conflates eating and sexual intercourse (gaping jaws and / Rampant Genitalia). Such an image resonates with Michel Carrouges notion of a “bachelor machine”: he writes; ‘“A bachelor machine is a fantastic image that transforms love into a mechanics of death” (Qtd. in Weiss ‘Prinzhorn’ 51).

In Mannix’s image jaws (death) and genitalia (love) are brought into relation in an activity which is “‘Precis’, / & competent” in the manner of a well functioning machine, a functioning that whilst described in this work also defies description, eluding one’s mental grasp. Here again is emphasised the inadequacy of human knowledge to truly understand the machine. This work’s illustration depicts a rectangle divided into three zones: two triangles either side of a central spiral edged by teeth reminiscent of a zipper – as if they have opened to reveal the spiral, perhaps representing the interrelations of the past, present and future.

The powerful, dominant presence of the machine in the works discussed seems to bear relation to Louis A. Sass’ suggestions regarding the function of such machines in the schizophrenic world-view. He writes:

[T]he notion of some kind of influencing machine, one of the classic delusions of schizophrenia, may stabilize the world by filling it with a quasi-external symbol of the subject’s own hyperreflexive consciousness, and by providing some way of accounting for the distorted, passivized experiences being undergone. (229)

Whilst the machines described by Mannix do seem to fulfil such functions it is important to note (as stated at the outset) that the majority of the machines discussed up to this point were not necessarily aspects of Mannix’s delusory world-view. Even though they were, he suggests, created whilst psychotic, their initial inspiration was the creative project suggested to Mannix by Philip Hammial, namely the illustrating of Hammial’s text, Vehicles Of Refuge, Abundance, Repentance, Jubilation, Beatitude, Transfiguration, Supplication, Etc. This is not to say that machines do not feature as specific aspects of Mannix’s hallucinatory cosmology. The final three machines to be discussed seem to be influencing machines in their own way: what differentiates them from those already discussed is the degree to which Mannix himself feels he merges with and is engulfed by such mechanisms.

The first of these machines is “The sex-Feel Machine”. Here, Sass’ suggestion that such devices “may stabilize the world by filling it with a quasi-external symbol of the subject’s own hyperreflexive consciousness”, seems not to be applicable; even the “quasi-external” status of the machine is eroded, an erosion that precipitates a complete loss of stability for Mannix. The “sex-Feel Machine”, a machine with which Mannix feels he has merged during psychosis, and which is responsible for the generation of a myriad of intense erotic sensations and hallucinations, is an “influencing machine” which does not exist outside Mannix. Rather, he is absorbed within it:

I would see female flesh, eventually as a silken river with no difference from the internal to the external. There were times coming like lightening or the gasps of beast when i would go into shock and no be able to differential between the sensation of seeing a stocking’d calf and the dolorous slippery feel of a tight cunt…i would walk at great pace thru. central train tunnel with The Cunt on one side of me, The Anus on the other and lipsticked lips made monsterous by the imagination would be sucking me off. as this, integrating, merging, becoming a component in a sex-Feel Machine lost to all hope of stability or coherence i would have wonderous visions of a realistic nature in my mind. With an unparrelled graphic quality, hundred nubile nude women would finger themselves to orgasm in my sight in every contrived submissive pose and then press their cunt into my face. With this image predominate and indelible it became that i was eating, drinking, sleeping nothing But female cum. It was a good deal of time later that i realised that without any reference i had drowned.8 [ellipsis added] (mo001: Journal of a Madman No.4 11)

As Mannix himself observes, this incident occurs when all the references of reality have been subsumed within the imaginative, hallucinatory world of psychosis. Mannix’s experience of the internal and external becomes fluid, and the experience is one of “integrating” and “merging” with a larger entity which he calls a “sex-Feel Machine”. Mannix becomes a “component” of this machine – thus it is the machine that controls what is occurring, and Mannix is merely a part caught up in its workings. The machine seems solely aimed at eliciting the sensation of sex, creating hallucinations that Mannix perceives as entirely real and enveloping. Machine imagery (particularly that of the “influencing machines” (Sass 217-18)) has been known to feature often in the hallucinatory expressions of the schizophrenic, and is frequently linked (as in this case) to a perceived lack of control on the part of the individual.9

Mannix’s reference to a lack of “stability and coherence” seems a retrospective statement regarding the great deviation this hallucination has made from the stable, coherent reality of ‘normalcy’. The experience itself, while it may have felt unstable and shifting, seems to have had some sense of internal coherence as Mannix’s concrete descriptions of the events suggest. The fact that visions of “The Cunt” and “The Anus” appear to Mannix whilst he is passing through a tunnel, perhaps reflect some associative connection between his ‘actual’ physical surroundings and the physiology of his lived metaphoric hallucinations. It can be supposed that Mannix has projected his fantasies of submissive, masturbating women with such imaginative force that he has created visions of them, which he perceives as autonomous entities. Their autonomy is, however, tenuous, as he is constantly imbibing their fluids, thus drawing them back into his own self in a form of psychic dialogue. Mannix expresses no sense of discomfort or panic in what could potentially be a smothering, claustrophobic situation and his absorption into the device is precisely what allows the machine complete influence over the reality he experiences; here the “solipsist circuit of desire” described by Allen S. Weiss becomes complete. Weiss writes of the schizophrenic “influencing machine”:

Suggestion apparatuses, anxiety producing machines, influencing machines, bachelor machines, infernal machines: the solipsist circuit of desire, surveillance, and punishment prefigured in many myths and tales bred by the early history of the image and sound recording inaugurated a central stylistic trope of modernism. (‘Prinzhorn’ 49)

Whilst such themes of desire, surveillance, and punishment are found in various combinations within many of the Mannix machines already discussed, all three appear to culminate in the following work.

The Mother Machine.
…the brilliant fits and starts are piled up into a
familiar pictorial structure so immense, that it defies
any global analysis…
… it is not quite locomotived but nevertheless has an extremely fluid mobility which is of all directions and seemingly of none, for you approach it, it does not approach you. and once You touch at its shiny surfaces, you are overawed, for it is as tall as the tallest skyscraper and just as magnificient as the most modern blueprints…in it’s windows you at first see yourself and this leads to some satisfaction, your reflection being most complementary, however, the windows give way to an infinity which despite how much of it you consume in an agitated paroxysm and other moods, still leaves an infinity and not an iota less, which cunningly, lays behind the mirror surface…arms, legs, members, whirl into this infinity, this mirror, this aperature, which when the presence of mind is achieved to consider, is apparent is not a mirror, an aperature at all, but many, as of the multi-facited eye of the insect, and all intent upon their own formulae, their own substance. You are deceived, you are not delivered into the hands and discretions of one, but of many… (mo012: Journal of a Madman 1994-95 46)

In ‘The Mother Machine’, the desire, surveillance and punishment Weiss writes of unite in Mannix’s startling vision of an organic machine that undergoes a series of fracturing changes. It is firstly so large that its entirety cannot be comprehended. Its surface appears reflective, so that one initially desires and consumes oneself; however, no matter the rate of consumption “an infinity” remains behind the mirror that one can never possess. Desire is never satisfied, merely extenuated and frustrated. The surface of the structure, which one believed to be unified, then reveals itself as fragmented: rather than observing oneself, it is the machine that observes, with its many eye-like mirrors all intent on showing different reflections. Thus the punishment is the deceit practiced by the “Mother Machine” – it is not one entity, but many.

Mannix describes the initial, agonising realisations of childhood, as the individual comprehends the fact that their mother fulfils other roles apart from being their private provider. Also perhaps of relevance is the theorisation of the (now clinically obsolete) “double-bind” explanation for schizophrenia, where the contradictory signals of parental figures contribute to the mental instability experienced by their children: in this way, the hands of one, become the hands of many. Mannix writes of such theories in relation to his motif of the “double-figure” (humanoid figures made up of multiple bodies or faces) which he suggests has remained a preoccupation over his years of art making. He writes: “There is a bit of talk around psychiatry about the double-bind situation. it was documented in regard to schizophrenia by Radcliffe – Brown, anthropologist in the New Guinea Highlands.10 I wonder if the ‘doubles’ and shared eyes are not the depiction, or better the expression and illumination of what this is and what this feels like with the ‘Terror’ that goes with it” (mo001: Journal of a Madman No.4 4).

Such a description of the “Mother Machine” bears resemblance to the notion of “the body of the other” discussed by B. Rosenbaum & H. Sonne in The Language of Psychosis – they write: “The body of the other is the place where the child carries out its identification with other human beings (frequently the mother)” (111). In the schizophrenic, they argue, “the body of the other becomes a mirror construction that is alienated, that is, located outside of the individual’s control and that more or less systematically distorts the modes of address in the speech, the speaker’s particular representation of himself and his relationship to the world about him” (111). Such a distortion in turn distorts both the individual’s perception and imaginary projection of self. Such a distortion is echoed in Mannix’s formulation of the “Mother Machine”, as the initial reflection of self is replaced by a myriad of distorted reflections which then precipitate a dissolution of self as “arms, legs, members, whirl into this infinity, this mirror, this aperature” (mo012: Journal of a Madman 1994-95 46). The “‘Terror’” Mannix writes of is embodied by the “Mother Machine’s” multi-various instability: it becomes the site of reflection and an unfulfilling consumption, which culminates in an annihilating absorption into its mechanised infinity.

This sensation of absorption into the device is central to the last of Mannix’s machines to be discussed: the “engine room”. This is a space in which Mannix at times finds himself contained during deep psychosis. He describes it as the “bowels of a grey metal ship of gargantuan proportions steaming from pole to pole” (mo046: Light 15). In a more detailed description of the actual space, he writes:

I was in the ‘Engine Room’ again. All this nuttage and boltage of grey disonate karma i was sure could be got at and quite possibly for profitable usage… i went on dismantling engines, great big bloody grey monstrosities that had been vibrating and jolting me down a subterrean passageway that was becoming smaller and tighter and no passageway at all, in an effort to find the stop button. This particular voyage was already ten constant weeks in progress…We (Mannix and Rosey Spite) went back to my place to discuss finding the central nervous system of the engine room. Rosey had great plans, she felt we should take over the whole ship and plunder it, that we would never have an opportunity like this again. (mo046: Light 41)

Perhaps Sass’ “influencing machine”, that “quasi-external symbol of the subject’s own hyperreflexive consciousness…providing some way of accounting for the distorted, passivized experiences being undergone” (Sass 229), is of most relevance here. For Mannix it is the ship and the machines within it that are responsible for the vibrations and jolting that he can feel. These animate machines are in control but Mannix’s energies seem directed towards breaking out of the passive role in order to regain a position of power. To this end he is constantly taking the engines apart in order to get at their “grey disonate karma”: trying to find the stop button and then (at Rosey’s suggestion) contemplating finding the central nervous system of the engine room so as to take over the whole ship. Thus Mannix’s “influencing machine” deviates markedly from those described by Tausk, where “The patients are able to give only vague hints of its construction.” Mannix seems intimately familiar with the machines, to the extent that he can in fact access and dismantle them.

Sass’ assertion that the schizophrenic “influencing machine” delusion could serve a stabilising function in an individual’s world-view appears plausible here: the ship and its engine room is a metaphor in which Mannix comes to live: this construct contextualises the various psychological and physiological experiences Mannix undergoes in his psychotic journey, and even provides him with the hope that he can, in fact, regain a sense of control and equilibrium.

Mannix’s machines traverse the zone between fictional creations and the lived experience of hallucinatory psychosis. All such machines possess a sense of psychotic animation that imbues them with the capacity for life. In this formulation Mannix’s dialogue with the machines is a dialogue with psychosis, one he makes available to rationality in his creative depictions.


Notes

1 All references to Mannix’s work are prefixed by an ‘mo’ [mannix object] number which allows them to be identified within ‘The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive’. This archive was created by Gareth Sion Jenkins to facilitate the study of Mannix’s work. Other than the singular objects stored in Mannix’s house, the digital copies are the only other record of such texts.

2 This work: Vehicles Of Refuge, Abundance, Repentance, Jubilation, Beatitude, Transfiguration, Supplication, Etc: drawings by Anthony Mannix; Poems by Philip Hammial can be found in numerous public collections including the Rare Book Collection of The University of Sydney Library.

3 All grammatical and spelling anomalies within Mannix’s quotations transcribed into this article are consistent with his artists’ books; on this matter Mannix writes: “so-long ago I realized my grammer was my own, and decided not to change it, like wise spelling.” (mo012: Journal of a Madman 1994-95 89).

4 Mannix’s various sonic works involve him reading his writings. These readings are generally recorded first with no musical accompaniment, after which composers create a soundscape to complement the reading. Mannix has created two works with Graeme Revell (A Concise History of the Machines and The Skull (excerpt), as well as numerous recordings with ‘The Loop Orchestra’. Mannix delivers his readings with an intentionally flattened affect. The following quotation, though part of a creative work, seems to typify the approach that motivates his reading style: “The narration of the prose is being done in a very, very, very flat monotone, emotionless and slowly, no sopranos or tangos” (Demise 47).

5 Such characteristics bring these works in contact with the contemporary field of Concrete Poetry which has its roots in the pictoral/textual works by Guillaume Apollinaire in “Calligrammes”. See Selected Writings of Guillaume Apollinaire (166-173).

6 Rosenbaum and Sonne link Tausk’s notion of the “influencing machine” with their (already discussed) formulation of the “Other”: “The schizophrenic experiences the Other as a foreign body. It is an “influencing machine” operating from somewhere else, whose construction is inexplicable, incomprehensible, or invisible to the schizophrenic but that he must at all times seek to give expression to and describe” (58).

7 Such images are reproduced in numerous publications including: The Discovery of the Art of the Insane page 305, Outsider Art: Spontaneous Alternatives page 71 and Marginalia page 24.

8 Carl Jung also uses the metaphor of drowning to express the force with which unconscious material can overwhelm the schizophrenic person: “He is not just overcome by a violent emotion, he is actually drowned in a flood of insurmountably strong forces and thought-forms which go far beyond any ordinary emotion, no matter how violent. These unconscious forces and contents have long existed in him and he has wrestled with them successfully for years” (‘Psychogenesis’ 239)

9 Mannix himself has produced a series of works that integrate the pictographic and the textual under the theme of the machine. Mannix has called these works, ‘A Concise History of the Machines’ and they (and the role of the machine in schizophrenic thought processes) will be discussed further in Chapter Five of this thesis.

10 E. Fuller Torrey outlines the development of the “double-bind” theory as follows: “In 1956 the “double-bind” was born, destined to become the cornerstone of family interaction theorists. Basically it postulated that schizophrenia arises when parents give their children heads-I-win-tails-you-lose messages. The lead author of the original paper describing this theory was Gregory Bateson…According to a later essay by Bateson, the inspiration for the “double-bind” came from his studies of communications theory, cybernetics, rituals among natives in Papua New Guinea, the communications of dolphins, and Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass” (Torrey 169).


Works Cited

Apollinaire, G. Selected Writings of Guillaume Apollinaire. Trans. & Ed.: Roger Shattuck. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1971.

Hammial, Philip. Vehicles Of Refuge, Abundance, Repentance, Jubilation, Beatitude, Transfiguration, Supplication, Etc. Sydney: Island Press, 1985.

Jung, C. ‘On The Psychogenesis of Schizophrenia’. The Psychogenesis of Mental Disease. Trans.: R.F.C. Hull. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. (233 – 49)

MacGregor, John, M. The Discovery of the Art of the Insane. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989.

Mannix, Anthony. mo001: Journal of a Madman No. 4. Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

—-. mo002: Journal of a Madman No. 5. Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

—-. mo012: Journal of a Madman 1994-95: The Chasm, Other Stories, Drawings and Other Things…and there Reigns love and all love’s loving parts. Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

—-. mo046: The Light Bulb Eaters. Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

—-. mo049:The Demise. Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

—-. mo052: The Machines, or a Concise History of the Machine (as far as i know them). Unpublished Manuscript: The Mannix ‘Atomic Book’ Digital Archive complied by G.S. Jenkins, 2005-2007.

Rhodes, Colin. Outsider Art: Spontaneous Alternatives. London: Thames & Hudson, 2000.

Rosenbaum, B. & Sonne, H. The Language of Psychosis. New York: New York University Press, 1986.

Sass, Louis A. Madness and Modernism : Insanity in the Light of Modern Art, Literature, and Thought. Cambridge, Mass. : Harvard University Press, 1994.

Torrey, E. Fuller. Surviving Schizophrenia: A manual for Families, Consumers, and Providers (Fourth Edition). New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2001.

Weiss, Allen S. “Prinzhorn’s Heterotopia.” The Prinzhorn Collection: Traces on the Wunderblock. Ed. Catherine De Zegher. New York: The Drawing Center, 2000. 43-60.

Jos ten Berge Ed. Marginalia: perspectives on outsider art. The Netherlands: De Stadshof Museum for Naïve and Outsider Art, 2000.

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