Background: Salvador Dalí was born in Spain, near Barcelona in 1904.¹ He was formally trained at several art schools, most importantly the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Madrid, where he studied the masters and quickly came to see himself as a genius too.² Friedrich Nietzsche, known for his “Superman” theory, was read by Dalí at a young age and influenced him to see the “artist” as the provider of “spiritual salvation” to the masses.³ From early on, Dalí saw opportunity for himself in the art world and spent all his energy on constructing a specific persona. He went out of his way to make his physical appearance be unusual and forced all the elements around him to be consistently unusual as well.⁴ It was during his studies in Madrid where he attended inspirational lectures by intellectuals such as the poet, Louis Aragon. Dalí heard Aragon speak at one of these lectures in 1925: “‘…and first of all, we shall ruin this civilization which you hold so dear…. Western world, you are sentenced to death.’”⁵ This statement would soon come to have a serious impact on Dalí's thinking and artistic practice, along with the psychoanalysis of Sigmund Freud and Jacques Lacan, and the work of the Surrealists.

Surrealism: André Breton wrote the definitions for Surrealism:

n. Pure psychic automatism, by which one proposes to express, either verbally, or in writing, or by any other manner, the real functioning of thought. Dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason, outside of all aesthetic and moral preoccupation. Philosophy. Surrealism is based on the belief in the superior reality of certain forms of previously neglected associations, in the omnipotence of dream, in the disinterested play of thought. It tends to ruin once and for all other psychic mechanisms and to substitute itself for them in solving all the principal problems of life. ⁶

In Primitivism in Modern Painting (1938), Robert Goldwater refers to work of the Surrealists as the “‘primitivism of the subconscious,’ …because they are freely associative, express paranoia or fantasies, and represent ‘personal primitive elements.’”⁷ Dalí was able to identify with Surrealism to a certain extent but had internal conflicts with their methods at the same time. However, this is not because of any involvement in primitivism, but because he wanted to take these ideas to a different level—that of calculated control. Surrealist automatism excited Dalí with the possibility “‘…to come nearer to appraising and verifying reality itself,’”⁸ and he did utilize the ideas they put forth to his advantage. The broad assumption of what constitutes primitive art is put forth by James Clifford “as an incoherent cluster of qualities that at different times have been used to construct a source, origin, or alter ego confirming some new ‘discovery’ within the territory of the Western self.”⁹ What Dalí did was combine Surrealism with ideas supplied by Freud's Interpretation of Dreams (translated to Spanish in 1922) and Lacan’s scientific authority to justify his own desire to restructure the world as he saw fit—via the development of his “paranoiac-critical method.”¹⁰ As far as Dalí's work is concerned, his “paranoiac-critical method” fulfils Clifford's criteria, but also structures it in a new light.

Putting his method into practice, Dalí made a slew of paintings under altered consciousness, all the while asserting the “claim that his special gift was that of holding on to sufficient critical control over these heightened mental experiences.”¹¹ One of which is The Lugubrious Game (1929). The painting is oil on cardboard 17.5″ x 12″ made up of symbolism representing specific sexual fetishes that Dalí learned from a list of dream symbols in Freud's book.¹²

Dalí borrowed the term paranoia from the medical field meaning, “the state of mental abnormality in which one creates a personal model of the reality of the world which has a perfectly functioning internal logic and structure,” regardless of how far it deviates from the norm.¹³ However, for Dalí to take on this model, he needed to assert his personal control to validate the method, hence the addition of the term critical. He was eager to find validity in his work and driven by a personal obsession “to impose himself on us.”¹⁴ Combined, the paranoiac critical method became the justification for his surreal activities coupled with his interest in the workings of the mind via support from psychoanalysis.¹⁵ In a lecture given by Lacan, he speaks on the issue of the creation of a painting and reminds us it is “the gaze of the painter, which claims to impose itself as being the only gaze.”¹⁶ Dalí was able to further confirm his paranoiac critical method based an article in Minotaure: “Lacan points out that the delirious experience of paranoiac subjects is closely analogous to creative content of folklore and myth and that their imaginative reach and complexity can frequently equal that of the greatest artists.”¹⁷ With backing from Lacan, Dalí was assured that it was under the “mental states” in which he painted, “where connections are made and memories and ideas are related on the basis of personal experience….”¹⁸ With the addition of the term critical he now had the credibility he needed to assert his ideas for approval.

Once the Surrealists were convinced, he proceeded to test his theories amongst them by involving them in experiments, documenting the ritualistic process, and publishing his perceived results. For example, they would all gather around a table, blindfolded with “animal membranes…bound to chairs,” in an attempt to liberate the surrealist object “out of the dark and into the light.”¹⁹ Next, they would interfere with the object so as to show their intention, rather than leaving it up to chance.²⁰ Dalí thought “the whole world could, and should, be seen in this hallucinatory manner by which inspiration is ‘forced.’”²¹ In a serious attempt to form an authoritative whole out of the chaos of existence, he wrote:

I think the time is rapidly coming when it will be possible (simultaneously with automatism and other passive states) to systematize confusion thanks to a paranoiac and active process of thought, and so assist in discrediting completely the world of reality…not only to establish communication…but also to regulate the system of interferences…²²

In addition to these conclusions, He finally stated: “The paranoiac activity always employs materials admitting control and recognition.”²³

The Lugubrious Game (1929): I will not attempt to decode Dalí's narcissistic endeavor of connect-the-dots. Instead, it may be interesting to note the life of the piece. Some of the Surrealists started a journal called Documents, which covered the topics of Doctrines, Archeology, Fine Art, and Ethnography. They delved into issues of “transgressive behavior, fetishism, magic, sacrificial rituals” and almost all vices.²⁴ For these reasons Dalí's work seemed most fitting. Shortly after he painted The Lugubrious Game, they wanted to use it in their publication, precisely because it would invoke feelings of disgust. He refused and they resorted to making a sketch of the work for their Documents.²⁵