ABSTRACT
Andrew Samuels and I are about the same age, but from starkly different social and professional worlds. When I sat down opposite him in his London flat for my first doctorial supervision, I was a nervous sixty-something street-trader’s son who had spent most of his working life as a tabloid newspaper journalist, whereas the assertive and cultured university professor guiding my research was an esteemed psychotherapist, leading academic light in depth psychology, who had brushed youthful shoulders with a knighted judge to whom I later referred in my study. We were an unlikely match, which, I am sure, challenged even his proven expertise in the field of human relationships. And yet, with the help of the Trickster, it worked.
