Psychoanalysis of Moral Masochism in Western and Eastern Culture

Neshchadim Dmitrii Vladimirovich ORCID: 0000-0001-5575-1459 PhD in Biology Associate Professor; Department of Psychology; Novosibirsk State University of Economics and Management psychologist, psychoanalyst; self-employed 52/1 Kamenskaya str., Novosibirsk, 630099, Russia, Novosibirsk region d.neshchadim@mail.ru Other publications by this author

Introduction. In recent decades, the phenomenon of moral masochism has become particularly relevant in psychoanalysis, cultural philosophy, and clinical practice. Modern man is faced with internal contradictions associated with feelings of guilt, self-blame, sacrifice and an unconscious craving for suffering. These attitudes are often perceived as personal pathologies or character traits, but upon closer examination they turn out to be culturally and historically determined.

Moral masochism manifests itself not only in clinical behavior, but also in art, literature, social roles, and even politics. It becomes the universal language of internal conflict – between desire and duty, between freedom and normative identity, between conscious choice and unconscious attraction. Its forms vary depending on cultural tradition, but the essence remains: a person seeks suffering as a way to gain meaning, belonging, or purification.

Thus, the consideration of moral masochism from the point of view of psychoanalysis and an intercultural approach allows not only to comprehend the internal mechanisms of the human psyche, but also to reveal the deep foundations of collective ideas about suffering, guilt and virtue.

Freud's theory of masochism. Sigmund Freud was the first to systematically describe masochism within the framework of psychoanalytic theory in a number of works, the key of which was the article "The Economic Problem of Masochism" (1924) ^{[1, pp. 301-314]}. In it, he refers to three forms of masochism.:

1. Erotic masochism is the acquisition of sexual satisfaction from pain, humiliation, or submission. Freud associates this form with inverted sadism, in which aggression directed at an object turns inward. An example is a situation where sexual arousal occurs in response to spanking, humiliation, or physical violence.

2. The female or feminine variant of masochism is a broader manifestation of the masochistic position, where the subject accepts suffering and submission as a way to be desired by Another, regardless of gender. Example: getting pleasure from psychological subordination to another, especially in close or intimate relationships.

3. Moral masochism is the most abstract and metapsychological form. In this case, the subject unconsciously seeks suffering not for pleasure, but as a means of punishment, "redemption," and restoration of moral balance. Often this type of masochism arises as a result of deep, inaccessible awareness of guilt. For example, a person unconsciously creates difficulties for himself (failures at work, toxic relationships), although outwardly he does not want this.

Freud explains moral masochism in terms of the internal conflict between the Ego, the Superego, and the death drive ^{[1, pp. 79-102, 193-300]}. A person strives for suffering, because the inner critic (Superego) demands punishment for an unconscious crime or desire, and the desire for death finds a way to expression through self-punishment. Thus, masochism is a form of compromise between the attraction to death and to life.

Definitions of moral masochism by other psychoanalysts. Jacques Lacan saw masochism not only as a separate clinical phenomenon, but also as a fundamental structure of subjectivity embedded in the very fabric of desire ^{[2, pp. 255-412]}. He interprets masochism as the inseparable dependence of the subject on the desire of the "Big Other" – the bearer of law and symbolic order. For Lacan, masochism is not just a desire for pain or punishment, as in Freud, but a way of asserting oneself in the web of language and desire of Another: the subject longs to be the object of desire or pleasure (fr. jouissance) of Another, even if it involves humiliation or suffering. Lacan's formula "the subject desires to be the object of Another's desire" reveals the root of the masochistic position, namely, the rejection of one's own autonomy for the sake of fantastical recognition. Unlike Freud, who viewed moral masochism as the result of internal conflict with the Superego and as a hidden form of aggression, Lacan sees in it a structural dependence on the Other - masochism here is not so much about guilt as about the inability of the subject to completely separate from someone else's desire and law.

Masoud Khan suggests considering moral masochism not only as a pathological form of self-punishment arising from unconscious guilt under the rule of a harsh Superego, as described by Freud, but also as an important aspect of a person's ability to endure inevitable mental suffering without disintegrating the integrity of the Ego. In his works, Khan emphasizes that masochism in the broadest sense is a way by which the ego keeps destructive mental pain and anxiety under control, creating a "space of pain" that can be experienced and recycled without destroying the mental structure ^[3]. He calls such moral masochism "benign" (English benign masochism), emphasizing its resource potential: the ability to endure pain and loss turns into the foundation of ethical behavior, empathy and tolerance for imperfections of both one's own and others ^[4]. Khan also draws attention to the cultural roots of this ability. Moral masochism is supported by the tradition of collective "witnessing" of suffering, whether through a religious ideal of sacrifice, family upbringing, or a deep therapeutic bond. Unlike Freud, who saw moral masochism only as a consequence of internal conflict and death drive, Khan argues that the ability to consciously endure and "endure" pain makes a person mature, capable of responsibility and resistant to the destructive aspects of mental life. Thus, moral masochism for Khan is not only a symptom, but also the key to genuine inner freedom and an ethical position towards oneself and others.

Yulia Kristyeva develops the theory of depression and female moral masochism, emphasizing their roots in the pre-linguistic and maternal dimensions of the psyche. In her works, especially in the book "Black Sun" (1987) ^[5], moral masochism is described as a form of "mute suffering" (French souffrance muette) associated with the impossibility or rejection of the symbolization of pain. Unlike Freud, Kristjeva shows that female masochism is closely related to the pre-verbal experience of maternal loss and the inability to translate suffering into words – it is rooted in a semi-absent "maternal negativity" (fr. negation maternelle). According to Kristyeva, the female subject often experiences masochism not in open acts of self-harm, but in chronic self-isolation, detachment from speech and communication. Suffering becomes a way to silently hold inside the lost maternal image – "maternal negativity" – an abstract emptiness or absence with which the subject merges. In this context, female masochism has a dual nature: on the one hand, it maintains a residual connection with the Mother or with the archetype of the mother's womb, and on the other, it turns into a form of silent protest against loss and loneliness. Suicidal tendencies or voluntary abandonment of life, which Kristeva views as an "aesthetic protest" (French: protestationesthetique), are not just a desire to end pain, but also an act of extreme symbolic affirmation: "I disappear along with what I no longer have." Such masochism is expressed in literary and cultural figures of silence, dumbness, isolation – where language ceases to be an instrument of communication, and suffering becomes the only sign of existence.

Andre Green connects moral masochism with deep narcissistic rejection of the object and with the systematic destruction of affective connections. In his concept of "white melancholy" (Fr. mélancolie blanche), the subject is unable to symbolically mourn or release the lost object of love or identification ^{[6, pp. 153-188]}. Unlike Freud, Green focuses on the narcissistic dimension – masochism becomes not just a punishment for unconscious guilt, but a form of maintaining connection with a disappeared object through self-destruction ^{[7; 8, pp. 199-233]}. In this emptiness, the subject turns aggression not outward, but inward: masochism becomes a kind of ritual for maintaining a connection with an object that no longer exists or that has turned out to be unattainable. Thus, suffering fulfills the function of a "negative presence.": Through pain and self-punishment, a person continues to unconsciously keep a trace of what he has lost inside himself. This "negative pleasure" (fr. jouissance negative) in Green is the last way to avoid the final inner emptiness and psychological death, because the loss of the object is not recognized and cannot be voiced. In clinical practice, such masochism often manifests itself in chronic depression, apathy, or somatization, where physical pain and mental decline become the only way to preserve the remnants of an emotional connection with the world.

Cultural variations of moral masochism. The features of the manifestation of the phenomenon of moral masochism vary significantly depending on the cultural context. Each civilization imbues the experience of suffering and inner self-punishment with its own unique meanings, symbols, and social attitudes. The psychoanalysis of literary works provides a special opportunity to see how moral masochism is reflected in artistic characters and plot. Next, we will consider the psychoanalytic aspects of moral masochism in European, Russian and Japanese cultures through the prism of key literary images – from Flaubert, Kafka and Balzac to Dostoevsky, Leskov, Turgenev, Kawabata and Mishima. This approach makes it possible not only to identify the universal mechanisms of masochism, but also to trace how each cultural context transforms it into a special form of moral and aesthetic norm.

European culture. The European tradition forms moral masochism through a deep Christian heritage: guilt, sin, and the idea of redemption through suffering permeate both religious dogma and fiction. As discussed above, Freud described moral masochism as a form of transferring aggression to one's own Self, which turns suffering into a means of self-purification and control of internal hostility. Masochism is based on guilt and morality. It is based on an internal conflict between desires and morality, often religious or social. At the same time, guilt is a key trigger when a person seeks punishment as a way of redemption. A person often does not expect love in response to suffering, but rather release from guilt. Green developed an understanding of moral masochism, associating it with an unconscious desire to repeat the experience of loss and pain in order to preserve the integrity of the psyche (the concept of a "dead mother").

In European literature, suffering is often interpreted as a condition of purification or a path to inner awakening, and traditionally acts as a condition for moral growth or tragic wisdom. For example, in Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's The Sufferings of Young Werther (1774), the pain of the hero is romanticized as the pinnacle of sensory experience. Honore de Balzac repeatedly shows how material and love passions inevitably turn into humiliation and self-destruction: for example, in "Father Goriot" (1835), old Goriot sacrifices himself for his daughters, and in "Eugenie Grande" (1833), the simple-minded heroine humbly tolerates her father's greed and despotism, turning personal happiness into a silent sacrifice. In Gustave Flaubert's Madame Bovary (1856), suffering is the inevitable price Emma's heroine pays for her dreams of romantic freedom. In Somerset Maugham's "The Burden of Human Passions" (1915), Philip Carey seeks liberation through love, humiliation and personal failures, which become for him a form of searching for the true meaning of life. A special place is occupied by Franz Kafka. In The Trial (1925), Joseph K. finds himself in a situation of endless, absurd self–accusation and excruciating guilt before an unknown law - this is an extreme form of moral masochism, where guilt becomes an eternal internal judgment. In general, it is characteristic of the European tradition that suffering has an existential connotation: it is born out of a conflict between personal will and moral duty, between individual freedom and social responsibility.

Russian culture. In Russian culture, as Daniel Rancourt-Laferriere emphasizes in his monumental works "The Slave Soul of Russia. Problems of moral masochism and the cult of suffering" and "Russian literature and psychoanalysis" ^{[9, 10]}, moral masochism often rises to the level of a cultural ideal and becomes a way of self-identification of a nation. The concept of "humility" and resignation to fate are key values rooted in the Orthodox tradition, the ideology of forgiveness and the patriarchal structure of society, which for centuries has educated a person not as an active subject, but as a patient subject of "earthly power" and "heavenly power." Rancourt-Laferriere analyzes this phenomenon using the example of Russian religious dogma, where suffering is considered a blessed ordeal that purifies the soul and brings it closer to Christ. According to Rancourt-Laferriere, this national cult of suffering forms a specific "slave soul" among Russians, prone to self-sacrifice, submission, and even to the enjoyment of their own humiliation. At the same time, the Russian psychoanalyst Ivan Dmitrievich Ermakov saw in this "slave soul" a manifestation of a complex associated with dependence, fear of authority, as well as an internal conflict between the desire for freedom and fear of responsibility ^[11]. For him, the peculiarities of the Russian soul are primarily a psychodynamic phenomenon, which is reflected in literary images where characters struggle with internal limitations, fears and addictions.

In Russian classical literature, this motif has acquired a tremendous artistic expression. Already in Nikolai Karamzin's sentimental novel "Poor Lisa" (1792), the touching image of a peasant girl who meekly accepts her lover's betrayal and chooses suicide has become a symbol of innocence that sacrifices itself without a struggle. This plot has become the archetype of the Russian "submissive victim." This tradition deeply permeates the work of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. In Pushkin's works, the tragic conflict of the hero is often associated with an inner voluntary acceptance of death or loneliness.: Eugene Onegin in the novel of the same name in verse (1833), having killed Lensky and destroyed his own life, lives under the yoke of unspoken remorse. At the same time, Tatiana Larina, renouncing personal happiness, chooses loyalty to duty and humility before fate. Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov's moral masochism takes on a romantic connotation: in "Hero of Our Time," Pechorin demonstrates a self-destructive tendency to destroy relationships and his own destiny, as if enjoying self-exposure and inner drama.

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky's heroes voluntarily seek humiliation and pain as a path to truth and spiritual resurrection (Raskolnikov, Prince Myshkin, Dmitry Karamazov) (1866, 1869, 1880). In Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy, suffering acts as a cleansing fire – from Anna Karenina in the novel of the same name (1878) to Nekhludoff in Resurrection (1899). The characters of Nikolai Semenovich Leskov embody the image of a "voluntary sacrifice" – in the novel Nowhere (1864), the characters find themselves in conflict with a cruel world and accept suffering as the price for loyalty to moral duty; in The Soborians (1866-1872), Christian humility is combined with a willingness to martyrdom. Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev in "The Noble Nest" (1856) and "Fathers and Children" (1962) depicts the quiet tragedy of a Russian intellectual, incapable of action, but capable of experiencing deep inner pain; in "Rudin" (1856), the hero of the same name seems to sacrifice himself, not finding use for his lofty ideas. At the end of the 19th century, Anton Pavlovich Chekhov carried over this tradition in depicting a new social and psychological plane. His heroines "The Three Sisters" (1901) and "The Cherry Orchard" (1904) live in a world of unfulfilled hopes, inner apathy and quiet acceptance of their fate. They are painfully aware of their dependence on circumstances, but they do not actively try to resist, preferring to suffer in silence, maintaining a sense of self-worth even in impotence. Thus, Rancourt-Laferriere emphasizes that the cult of suffering in Russia is not pathological as in European culture, but culturally justified – it strengthens the sense of collective destiny and connection with the ideal of sacrifice.

Japanese culture. Japanese moral masochism is refined and aestheticized. The key concept of "gaman" expresses patience and inner resilience in the face of adversity. In 1946, anthropologist Benedict Root analyzed Japanese culture through the juxtaposition of two symbols: the chrysanthemum (sophistication) and the sword (duty and honor) ^[12]. She highlights values such as duty or "giri" (meaning "sense of duty"), hierarchy, shame, and sincerity, which form the moral foundation of Japanese society. These values can be associated with concepts of self-sacrifice and moral masochism. According to Takae Doi's theory, the Japanese phenomenon of amae (Japanese: "feeling of dependence", "desire for intimacy") – the subconscious need for emotional dependence and care – makes the willingness to endure pain part of the cultural norm governing interpersonal relationships. ^{[13, 14, 15, 16]}. In essence, it is an addiction in which a person expects condescending attitude and forgiveness of their weaknesses from others. This feeling plays a key role in Japanese culture and mentality, especially in the relationship between children and parents, as well as between subordinates and supervisors.

Japanese psychoanalysis, through the concept of the "Ajase Complex", Heisaku Kosawa describes a special form of guilt and hidden aggression towards the mother, which is intertwined with the Buddhist understanding of karma and forgiveness ^{[17, 18, 19]}. The complex is based on the Buddhist legend of Prince Ajasa (or Ajatashatru), who has ambivalent feelings for his mother — hatred, guilt and thirst for forgiveness. According to legend, Ajase, under the influence of his uncle, killed his father (King Bimbisara) and threw his mother into prison. Later, he is tormented by guilt and turns to the Buddha for comfort. Unlike the Oedipal conflict (the struggle with the father for the mother), the Ajase complex describes the child's unconscious ambivalence towards the mother, in which love and dependence are combined with hostility and suppressed aggression. An important emphasis is on the desire for forgiveness and redemption: the Japanese subject's sense of guilt is not so much related to sexual desires as to the feeling of "I betrayed my mother" or "I spoiled her love." This model highlights the special nature of the Japanese culture of addiction (amae) and the close emotional bond between mother and child, where guilt and forgiveness are the central mechanisms of mental formation.

In Japanese literature, characters are often destroyed internally, but outwardly they retain silent grace. In Yasunari Kawabata's novels Snow Country (1948) and The Thousand-Winged Crane (1949), the main characters Misako and Yukiko, as well as Komako, tacitly accept doom and separation as an aesthetic form of experiencing pain. In "Confessions of a Mask" (1949), Yukio Mishima reveals the intimate masochism of the hero, who simultaneously strives for self-destruction and purity of the ideal. At the same time, in the author's other cult novel, The Golden Temple (1956), the monk hero Mizoguchi is obsessed with beauty, which he seeks to destroy by giving himself completely to this process. In Giacomo Puccini's opera Madame Butterfly (1904), the geisha Cio-Cio-san becomes a symbol of extreme self-denial and tender submission, accepting betrayal and death as the highest form of preserving honor and love. This willingness to sacrifice is also evident in the image of Toda Mariko from James Clavell's novel "The Shogun" (1975), where the heroine embodies the ideal of loyalty and calm acceptance of inevitable death in the name of a higher duty and sense of duty to the lord. Thus, in Japan, suffering is not so much punishment or guilt as a tacit proof of dignity and loyalty to one's own internal order.

Tertiary identity and cultural variations of moral masochism. Psychoanalyst Salman Akhtar suggests considering human identity as a multilevel structure ^[20]. He identifies three levels. Primary identity is a biological and bodily identity associated with early pre–verbal experience and a basic sense of "I am." Secondary identity is a socio-linguistic identity defined through language, roles, culture, and interaction with other people. Tertiary identity is a meta-level that includes existential feelings of belonging to history, culture, religion, and destiny. It is formed from collective narratives, symbolic memory, and feels like an internal framework that defines what it means to be "part of the people" or "heir to tradition." Akhtar emphasizes that it is the tertiary identity that sets the framework within which a person unconsciously experiences shame, guilt, pride, and even a willingness to suffer. These mechanisms are especially important when considering moral masochism, which receives different shades and moral justifications in different cultures. Below we will look at how this phenomenon manifests itself in Western Europe, Russia and Japan (see the table).

The European's tertiary identity is rooted in the Christian ethics of guilt (especially in the Protestant tradition), the cult of personal autonomy and the legal order. A person is seen as free and responsible for his actions. Suffering is perceived as the price for a personal moral deviation. In this case, the unconscious attitudes of the characters of Kafka, Balzac, Flaubert, and Maugham live under the burden of internal judgment.: "I have to suffer to be cleansed." Here, masochism is an individual act of inner self–punishment and redemption, rather than serving a group or nation. Here, the tertiary identity in Europe builds an autonomous moral court within the psyche, the Superego, which can be so strict that it turns into unconscious masochism.

The tertiary identity of the Russian person is built on the synthesis of Orthodox asceticism, the national idea of Russia as the "third Rome", the martyrdom national narrative (serfdom, revolutions, wars) and the powerful tradition of the literature of suffering. Suffering here is not an affect, but a proud proof of spiritual power.: "whoever suffers is purer and closer to the truth." Rancourt-Laferriere calls this the "cult of suffering," which turns into an unconscious attitude.: "I must suffer, otherwise I will betray everyone who suffered before me." Classical literature demonstrates this motif through the works of Karamzin ("Poor Lisa"), Pushkin, Lermontov, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Chekhov. "Poor Lisa" is the archetype of the "submissive victim" who dies because of betrayal. In Pushkin and Lermontov, the characters humbly accept inner duality and an inevitable fate. For Dostoevsky, torment is the path to truth and divine mercy. Chekhov's characters silently bear the burden of unfulfilled hopes and life apathy. In this case, the tertiary identity forms in the Russian soul the idea of suffering as an existential virtue and national duty. Masochism here is a way of "being one's own" in the historical flow of sacrifice.

The Japanese's tertiary identity is shaped by collectivist philosophy (Bushido, Confucianism), the aesthetics of restraint (wabi-sabi), and historical memory (for example, the trauma of Hiroshima and Nagasaki). The hierarchy and harmony of a group is more important than individual autonomy.Suffering is perceived as a form of service to the harmony of the collective, and not as a punishment for misconduct. The Japanese phenomenon of amae (Takae Doi), an unconscious addiction attitude, makes patience and self–denial socially acceptable. In Giacomo Puccini's opera Madame Butterfly, Cio-Cio-san chooses death, demonstrating an extreme form of devotion. In James Clavell's novel The Shogun, Toda Mariko voluntarily sacrifices herself to defend her honor and duty to her master. In the literature of Kawabata and Mishima, female images often embody aestheticized masochism: the heroines humbly accept doom and inner destruction. In this case, moral masochism in Japan is a way to confirm one's belonging to a cultural matrix where dependence and willingness to suffer are virtues, not weaknesses.

Thus, Akhtar proposed the concept of tertiary identity, which describes the mental structure of a migrant living in constant conflict between three layers: the culture of origin, the culture of the environment and personal inner space. In this triangle, increased moral masochism is often formed, especially in the form of feelings of "guilt over the past" or "insufficiency over the future." Japanese in America or Russian immigrants are characterized by masochistic adaptation, in which suffering is perceived as the price for belonging to a new world.

Table. How tertiary identity fuels moral masochism in the cultures of Western Europe, Russia, and Japan.

Female images of moral masochism in European, Russian and Japanese literature. Female moral masochism, as shown by classical and oriental literature, finds its most expressive form in the fates of Emma Bovary in Flaubert, Anna Karenina in Tolstoy, Komako from The Land of Snows and Fumiko from Kawabata's The Thousand-Winged Crane. All of them embody a complex fusion of inner guilt, dependence on the gaze of Another, and the cultural norm of sacrifice.

Emma Bovary embodies Freudian moral masochism in its purest form: her dissatisfaction with everyday life and romantic dreams of passion naturally lead to a chain of humiliations, debts and family destruction, which she unconsciously chooses as punishment for her "forbidden" desires. Her erotic masochism — submission to an overbearing lover — develops into a moral one when the destruction of her own reputation and poverty become a means of self-redemption. From Lacan's point of view, Emma is a hostage to the desire of Another: she continuously strives to be desired through the eyes of her husband, lovers and society. Her suicide is a gesture of ultimate rupture with an impossible confession, but at the same time the last form of affirmation of herself as a victim. According to Masoud Khan, Emma's tragedy is that she has failed to transform her suffering into a "space of pain" that can be endured and understood: her pain tears apart her personality rather than saving its integrity.

Anna Karenina is immersed even deeper into the cultural matrix of Russian moral masochism. For Anna, cheating on her husband is not just personal happiness, but gaining freedom, for which she is willing to pay with the destruction of her family and life. According to Freud, her masochism is an uncompromising realization of the death drive: an inner critic tears Anna apart from the inside, forcing her to perceive happiness as a sin that must be redeemed by suffering. In Lacanian terms, Anna cannot exist outside the gaze of the "Big Other" — society and the law: her suicide on the rails is the final break with this order and the assertion of the priority of her own desire. Green would call her fate "white melancholy": she is unable to mourn the loss of family peace and love, so she chooses physical death as a way to keep in touch with the lost ideal. For Kristyeva, Anna is a symbol of the "black sun" of the female subject: a silent protest against peace and pain through self—destruction.

Komako from Yasunari Kawabata's "Land of Snow" is a subtle Japanese equivalent of Emma Bovary, embodied in the aesthetics of restraint, "gaman" – persistent patience and silent suffering for the sake of harmony and social duty (giri). She clearly understands that her love for Shimamura is doomed and socially humiliating: being a geisha and a lover, but not a wife, Komako consciously accepts inner self-destruction as a form of loyalty and self-preservation, without violating hierarchical and cultural norms. According to Freud, her masochism is moral masochism in its purest form: she does not need external punishments, suffering is cultivated internally as an act of self–control and repentance. In Lacan's perspective, Komako lives in the power of Another: her unhappiness and self–denial are a way to preserve her social role, to be needed, and at the same time to keep in touch with the cultural symbolism of duty and honor. Masoud Khan would consider her inner masochism as "benign": inner pain becomes an ethical core that supports her integrity and prevents the destruction of her personality, turning suffering into a conscious act of self-restraint and spiritual growth. Komako is not only a tragic figure, but also a cultural and mythological model of female sacrifice, where personal desire is subordinated to collective harmony and the preservation of social stability.

Fumiko from Yasunari Kawabata's The Thousand–Winged Crane is the epitome of moral masochism in the Japanese cultural model of guilt and female self-denial. Her figure is permeated by the archetype of the "Ajase complex" described by Heisaku Kosawa: deeply repressed aggression towards the mother transforms into unconscious self-punishment, where suffering becomes a form of loyalty to the lost ancestral purity. Love for Kikuji is impossible for Fumiko – not because feelings are absent, but because in her mental register, love is acceptable only as a sacrifice. According to Freud, her masochism is an act of subjugation to the Superego, which vindictively demands atonement for the "sin of the mother" through the suppression of its own desire. In Lacanian optics, Fumiko is completely subordinated to the gaze of Another – her subjectivity is built around the inability to symbolize her own attraction, and rejecting Kikuji is a refusal to speak the language of desire. According to Kristyeva, her silence is not just a dumbness, but a sign of immersion in the "black sun": a depressive state where pain cannot be clothed in speech and exists as an inner shadow. In Andre Green's terms, Fumiko's suffering is a "white depression" where masochism becomes a way to keep in touch with the departed mother, holding the pain as a remnant of an impossible loss. Her tragic reticence is a culturally coded way of living with guilt without allowing herself to be released from it.

These female images show that a woman's moral masochism is not just a desire for pain for the sake of pain, but a complex compromise between inner guilt, dependence on the gaze of Another and the cultural norm of sacrifice. For Flaubert and Tolstoy, this is the Western and Russian archetype of redemption through suffering; for Kawabata, it is a sophisticated Japanese way of preserving honor through "gaman" and silent sacrifice, intertwined with amae and the "Ajase Complex." In the logic of Freud, Lacan, Masoud Khan, Kristyeva and Green, these heroines demonstrate different manifestations of how a woman turns pain into a symbol or a silent protest in order not to dissolve into the emptiness of loss or unbearable guilt.

Male images of moral masochism in European, Russian and Japanese literature. The Images of Joseph K. Dostoevsky's Kafka, Raskolnikov, and Dmitry Karamazov, as well as Mishima's Mizoguchi, are four vivid male embodiments of moral masochism, each of which reveals a culturally specific way of experiencing inner guilt, dependence on the "Big Other," and the desire for self—destruction. These figures can be viewed through the key psychoanalytic theories of Freud, Lacan, Masoud Khan, Julia Kristyeva, Andre Green, as well as through the prism of cultural matrices described by Rancourt-Laferriere for Russia and Japanese psychoanalysts for Japan.

Joseph K., the hero of Kafka's "Trial," is an example of masochism transformed into an absurd ritual of endless trial. His guilt has not been named, but his inner Superego mercilessly demands punishment, and Josef K. submits to this verdict without hope of justification. For Freud, this is pure moral masochism: suffering as an unconscious payment for unknown guilt. Lacan would have seen in him a subject completely absorbed in the "Big Other" — a Law that is empty and merciless. Andre Green would consider this masochism a way to keep in touch with the illusion of meaning: in K.'s empty law. still looking for salvation. Masoud Khan would note the absence of a "space of pain" — Josef K. he does not process suffering, he dissolves into it. Kristyeva would add that his silence is a symptom of depression and inability to symbolize pain.

Raskolnikov is the epitome of classical moral masochism in the Russian literary tradition. His murder is a challenge to moral order, and all subsequent torment is an unconscious attempt to atone for this rebellion. For Freud, he illustrates the struggle between the Ego and the Superego, where self-punishment regains the lost ethical support. In a Lacanian way, Raskolnikov longs to be the object of the law – he confesses and accepts hard labor as proof of his newfound connection with the "Big Other." Green would point out that suffering helps to keep in touch with the ideal of goodness and the maternal image. For Khan, Raskolnikov's path is an example of "benign" masochism: pain is comprehended and processed through confession and atonement. Kristyeva sees this as an "aesthetic protest"—the ability to turn suffering into a story about salvation.

Dmitry Karamazov is another key male character in Dostoevsky, who develops a motif of moral masochism based on the tragic Russian "slave soul" (according to Rancourt-Laferriere). Dmitry lives like a man who is internally ready for suffering and catastrophe: he greedily craves pleasure and at the same time seeks punishment for "sins of blood and flesh." For Freud, Dmitri combines feminine and moral masochism: he enjoys humiliation and poverty after a previous dissolute life, unconsciously seeking punishment for his father's hatred. Lacanistically, Dmitry longs for trial and punishment in order to find himself back in the field of law and morality — to return to the gaze of the "Big Other" through public suffering. According to Green, Dmitry's torment is a way to keep in touch with his lost hope of fatherly love and the ideal of "Dostoevsky's righteousness." Dmitry partially creates a "space of pain" for Masoud Khan: penal servitude is his symbolic container for internal chaos. For Kristyeva, his suffering and readiness for the "great penal servitude" is a black sun, a way to keep himself from the final inner emptiness.

Mizoguchi from Mishima's "Golden Temple" shows a Japanese shade of male moral masochism — aestheticized, restrained and imbued with the concept of "gaman" (persistent silent patience) and a sense of "giri" (duty). His obsession with the beauty of the temple and his hatred of his own inferiority (stuttering) combine in painful self-destruction. His masochism turns into aesthetic terror – he destroys the object of adoration by burning the temple, thereby tearing himself apart. His masochism is not only a personal pain, but also a trace of the "Ajase Complex": an internal conflict with the maternal figure and a thirst for forgiveness and redemption through the destruction of beauty. Freud would have seen here a fusion of feminine and moral masochism: enjoying his own insignificance and cultivating it as proof of his "sinful" nature. Lacan would have seen in him a subject who severs his connection with the "Big Other" of beauty through the act of destruction. According to Green, Mizoguchi's masochism is a way to keep within himself a lost ideal that he cannot mourn. Masoud Khan would say that the hero does not find a benign "pain space": he himself becomes this pain, dissolving into the destruction of the temple. For Kristyeva, his act is a "black sun" of the Japanese type: aesthetic suicide as a silent protest against inner emptiness.

As a result, Josef K., Raskolnikov, Dmitry Karamazov and Mizoguchi demonstrate different facets of male moral masochism. In Kafka, it turns into the absurdity of the law; in Dostoevsky, it turns into a search for redemption and humility; in Mishima, it turns into an aesthetic act of self—destruction for the sake of a utopian ideal. From Freud's point of view, all these images illustrate the struggle between the Ego and the Superego and the manifestation of the death drive. Lacan emphasizes their dependence on the desire of the Other. Masoud Khan distinguishes between where masochism becomes a benign space of experiencing pain, and where it falls into the void. For Kristyeva and Green, this is both evidence of a deep unconscious protest and the inability to symbolize loss. All these male figures show that moral masochism is not just a mental symptom, but a culturally woven ritual that can give meaning to human vulnerability to guilt, shame, and unresolved internal conflict.

The transformation of moral masochism in postmodernism. Modern literature shows the shift of masochism from tragic to melancholic and "soft" space. The characters experience inner passivity, an inability to act, devoid of heroic coloring. Masochism in postmodern literature often takes on a non-linguistic, "repressed" form: suffering is not spoken or realized, but becomes part of existential inertia. This is a kind of depressive intonation in which the characters do not fight or punish themselves directly, but live in a state of chronic guilt or loss of meaning.

Examples of such transformations can be observed in modern Japanese prose (for example, in Haruki Murakami), where male and female characters exist in a state of emotional detachment, not seeking to resolve the conflict, but remaining in its field. Their suffering is quiet, meditative, almost aesthetic. Psychoanalytically, this can be interpreted as repressed masochism, in which the subject loses access to his own desire and closes in on the repetition of the symptom.

Psychoanalytic work with moral masochism. Dealing with moral masochism in psychoanalytic practice requires special sensitivity and careful consideration of both individual and cultural factors. This type of internal conflict is deeply rooted in the patient's tertiary identity and often becomes the core of his life scenario.

Resistance. Patients with marked moral masochism often unconsciously resist improvements. For them, suffering is not just a symptom, but a part of their value Self, a kind of proof of morality or a means of redemption. They may say, "If I stop suffering, who am I then?" or "I have to endure this, otherwise I will betray myself." Such resistance can manifest itself in the form of sabotaging therapy, returning to a destructive relationship, or avoiding emotional openness.

Transference and countertransference. In transference, the masochistic patient often tries to arouse guilt, pity, or an unconscious desire to "save" the analyst from suffering. This can turn into a countertransference trap: the analyst begins to either experience irritation, fatigue, and a desire to distance himself, or, conversely, falls into hyper-anxiety and a desire to "heal at any cost." It is important for a psychoanalyst to maintain an inner distance and use these reactions as diagnostic material, helping the patient to realize the dynamics of his unconscious attitude.

Cultural specifics.The cultural context gives moral masochism a special coloring. In European patients, it often manifests itself through the idea of personal guilt, internal moral judgment, and an existential conflict between freedom and duty. In Russian patients, the religious connotation of suffering as a spiritual achievement or sacrifice "in the name" of family, Fatherland, and God may prevail. Here, the idealization of pain makes it a mentally "untouchable" zone. In Japanese patients, suffering is often expressed not in words, but in bodily symptoms, rituals of self-restraint, and tacit acceptance of fate. In this case, it is especially important to work on "allowing pain to be spoken out" and to transfer it from the realm of bodily and mute to the realm of symbolic thinking.

Working with language and symbol. The central task of the analyst becomes the translation of silent, "precultural" suffering into a symbolic language that makes unconscious conflicts accessible to comprehension. The patient needs to allow himself to stop suffering, but he can do this only when he realizes the role pain plays in his identity and value system. Working with symbolization, free associations, and interpretation can help the patient integrate repressed feelings and rethink their attachment to suffering as a condition of their own worth.

The difference between moral masochism and moral narcissism. In the psychoanalytic literature, one can find the phenomenon of moral narcissism, which should not be confused with the phenomenon of moral masochism ^{[8, pp. 199-233]}. In particular, Green defined moral narcissism as a form of narcissism in which a person unconsciously identifies with moral rectitude and a sacrificial role in order to fuel a grandiose Self.: "I'm good and I sacrifice myself, which means I'm better than others," while such a "sacrifice" often becomes a means of demonstrating superiority or manipulating others' feelings of guilt (for example, a person who says "I put up with everything for you," but enjoys his "sanctity" and demands recognition). The key difference between moral narcissism and moral masochism is that for moral masochism, suffering is a way to redeem and purify oneself, accompanied by self–abasement and shame, whereas for moral narcissism, suffering and virtue are reasons for pride and demonstration of one's exclusivity. In therapy, it is important to distinguish between these mechanisms: in moral masochism, the analyst works with unconscious guilt and self–destruction, and in moral narcissism, he reveals hidden pride and the need for recognition. In culture, the first is associated with religious and ethical ideas about redemption, the second with the modern phenomenon of demonstrative virtue and moral activism for the sake of social approval.

Conclusion. The conducted psychoanalytic and cultural comparative analysis allows us to consider moral masochism not only as a private clinical phenomenon, but also as an important element of the internal structure of the psyche, deeply woven into cultural traditions and collective narratives. Its manifestations in Western, Russian, and Eastern (Japanese) cultures demonstrate that the desire for suffering and self-punishment can serve as a means of inner purification, proof of spiritual strength, or a form of affirmation of loyalty to a group and duty. Understanding these mechanisms opens up new horizons for psychoanalytic practice, emphasizing the need to take into account the cultural codes and unconscious attitudes of the patient. In a broader sense, the study of moral masochism contributes to understanding the complex relationship between guilt, suffering, identity and social values, which makes this phenomenon significant not only for clinical psychology, but also for philosophy, cultural studies and literary studies.

Thanks

The material of this article was first presented as an oral sectional report at the XX Summer School of the Eurasian Confederation of Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy "Psychoanalyst in reflection ..." in St. Petersburg on June 29, 2025. The author expresses his gratitude to his colleagues for their valuable questions and comments, as well as for their help in editing the article.

The article is published in the version approved by the reviewers (after receiving a positive review recommending the manuscript for publication) with corrections made by the author (after receiving the editor’s comments, if any).
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