Indeed it was closed, and properly to be sure, there was no reason to doubt it. The door was definitely closed, but he who did not trust his eyes did not believe it, sniffed about the door with his nose, so that he could smell if it was closed or not. It was really and truly closed. Without question it was closed. It was by no means open. Undoubtedly the door was closed.
So! I’ve Got You | 1917 | Robert Walser
This is object a: an entity that has no substantial consistency, which in itself is ‘nothing but confusion’ and which acquires a definite shape only when looked at from a standpoint slanted by the subject’s desires and fears - as such, as a mere ‘shadow of what is not’. Object a is the strange object that is nothing but the inscription of the subject itself in the field of objects, in the guise of a blotch that takes shape only when part of this field is anamorphically distorted by the subject’s desire.
Lacan by way of Zizek, an entry point of sorts.