Where were the historians today? … What did they ever think of us transitory ones? … We who write no novels, histories or other books.
In my Father’s house are many mansions …
(John 14:2 (King James Bible, 1611))
Foster and Roberts (1998) wrote that “homelessness may be not only a physical reality but also a state of mind” (Foster and Roberts, 1998, p. 31) and their use of the term ‘housed minds’ (ibid.) was one of the hooks upon which we first hung our own long explorations into the multiple psycho-social phenomena which we are now grouping here under the head of the term ‘unhousedness’.1 We have previously noted the ready availability of ‘house’ and ‘home’ as metaphor for mind, especially for the mind that holds another mind in mind (Scanlon and Adlam, 2006; see also Campbell, 2019). Plato’s theory of forms and the allegory of the cave that he offers in his Republic (Plato, 4th Century BCE) evoke both the early home of the human collective unconscious and the anguished imagining that we are all permanently and eternally displaced into a universe of shadows dancing against the wall. Saint Augustine, in his Confessions, likens memory to “a spacious palace, a storehouse for countless images of all kinds which are conveyed to it by the senses” (Saint Augustine, 397/8, Book X, p. 214).
Ever since the publication of The Interpretation of Dreams (Freud, 1900), the overlapping metaphors of house and home, housed and homely, have been beloved of psychoanalytically-inclined theorists in particular. Jung’s self-reported dream (1963, p. 155) offers a vivid example of this symbol of the mind as a house with many rooms and storeys (and mansions?). For Winnicott (1986), home is where we start from – and so, we must psycho-socially presume, is homelessness. Bion (1962) offered the concept of ‘maternal’ containment in order to explore, in psychoanalytical terms, the projective, and introjective, processes whereby internal object relationships are lodged within the mind or evicted from it (note how we introduce two further ‘housing’ metaphors in representing his ideas in this way). Brown’s edited collection, Psychoanalytic Thinking on the Unhoused Mind (Brown, 2019; to which we contributed (Scanlon and Adlam, 2019)), continues this tradition and reaches out beyond the consulting room to attend to the sociological realities of homeless populations and the political and cultural structures in which housing problems are located and played out.
Stuart Hall, theorising and testifying to the particular experience of being a colonial subject, states plainly that “the dynamics of displacement underwrite all social relations” (Hall, 2018, p. 76). Modern philosophy’s explorations of anxieties about homelessness begin with Marx’s argument that people are alienated from their labour – no longer remembering the needs and necessities and creativity that led them to take up their tools to begin with (Marx, 1844) – and follow on from Nietzsche’s ideas on nihilism as the inevitable consequence of the realisation that “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him” (Nietzsche, 1887, p. 203). Heidegger (1947) deconstructed what he regarded as the misconceived distinction between ‘being’ and ‘at-homeness’: a collective forgetting, sealed in language, which he felt the Platonic tradition had cemented. He proclaimed that “homelessness is coming to be the destiny of the world” (Heidegger, 1947, p. 243).
Maya Angelou wrote: “The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned” (Angelou, 1987, p. 214). The secure base concept within attachment theory is another way of arguing that, in ordinary development, there is a core experience of ‘home’ and of ‘safety’, of an experience of one’s self as being securely housed in another person’s mind.
Clinical theories of mentalisation and reflective functioning have built upon the synthesis of attachment theory with contemporary neuroscience (Bevington et al., 2017; Bateman and Fonagy, 2019). Body and mind in these accounts form a permanent home with a ‘lived-in’ feel, which can be valued and looked after. There is an echo here of James Baldwin’s observation that perhaps “home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition” (Baldwin, 1967, p. 88). In contrast to the jester Touchstone, we can, the more privileged amongst us, according to this theory, be confident explorers of the ‘forests of Ardenne’ of our own particular universes, for we have learned from experience that we can make our way back to safe territory if we feel under threat. Others, the less privileged amongst us, for all types of reasons that we shall go on to describe and explore, are less able to retreat to such places of safety.