The Unconscious (n.) is a fiction to be rejected.
The Unconscious (n.) is what one implicitly admits by imagining a spontaneity that springs from a shadowy zone without being conscious of itself — and Sartre will not admit it.
The Unconscious (n.) was used by La Rochefoucauld before anyone named it: self-love in disguise, which must be tracked down before it can be grasped.
The Unconscious (n.) is often just a reflective structure thoughtlessly laid over acts that were never reflective at all.
The Unconscious (n.) is a coarse, materialist reading of a correct intuition: unable to accept a spontaneity that produces itself, psychologists stored our thoughts in it beforehand — only pushing the problem one stage back.