nc6?mE«??r"r;!Fn LlBRAFTf PSYCHOANALYSIS PSYCHOANALYSIS ITS HISTORY THEORY AND PRACTICE by ANDRE TRIDON "We are what we are because we have been what we have been, and wliat is needed for solving the problem of human life and motives it not moral estimates but more knowledge." Freud NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH, Inc. MCMXXII LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & Co., Ltd. BROADWAY HOUSE, 68-74 CARTER LANE, E.C. COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY B. W. HUEBSCH PRINTBD IN O. S. A. .-.^ BPI73 - 3. First frinline, Dtctmbtr, 1919 Sictnd trinHne, Juni, 1920 BIOLOGV Thi/d fhntint, Febn'Mi;/, 1921 LIBRARV Fturth frinting, Augui:, 1921 Pfth printirts, Ap accept it openly. Regis and Henard of Bordeaux ac- cepted it in part, rejecting only the Freudian symbolism. Italy has taken very little interest in the new science. Psychoanalysis was introduced in Holland by Jel- gersma, rector of the University of Leyden, in 1904, and has been studied by Van Emden, Van Ophuijsen and Van Renterghem particularly from the theoretical side. In Sweden, Poul Bjerre, Wetterstrand's successor, gave up his practice of hypnosis to join the Freudian school. In Norway, A. Vogt of Chrlstiania mentioned psycho- analysis in a book on psychiatry published in 1907. In Russia psychoanalysis is generally known. Wulff of Odessa, Ossipof and Bernstein of Moscow, and Pov- nitzki of Petrograd, have published numerous articles on the subject. In Poland the practice and literature of psychoanalysis have been introduced by L. Jekels. In the autumn of 1909 psychoanalysis was ofiiclally in- troduced to the scientists of America when Freud and Jung were invited by Stanley Hall of Clark University to come and lecture on Psychoanalysis. S. Ferenczi ac- companied them. Canada was represented by Ernest Jones of Toronto University, the United States by A. A. Brill of New York. Professor James J. Putnam of Har- vard, who, until then, had been rather sceptical in his attitude toward psychoanalysis, befriended the new move- ment on which he delivered many lectures. A. A. Brill began to translate Freud's work into English, an under- taking which required infinite effort and a great deal of ingenuity, for Freud's technical terms were very novel at 12 PSYCHOANALYSIS the time and equivalents had to be coined for them in English. Dr. Smith Ely Jelliffe of New York City has made valuable contributions not only to the technique of the psychoanalytic treatment but to the applications of the psychoanalytic point of view in other fields. He has suggested a new method for handling the more dynamic transference situations (see Chapter XIX) which arise in dementia praecox and the manic-depressive psychoses. In collaboration with Louise Brink he has published a study on " The Role of Animals in the Un- conscious," outlining a new method for the understanding of cultural fossils in the individual unconscious and their recognition when used as symbols. He has developed the Freudian conceptions of dis- placement and conversion which he considers as the or- igin not only of neuroses but of certain so-called organic diseases. The technique likely to deal adequately with such conditions must follow, he thinks, the Freudian for- mulas, although he considers that those formulas can be improved upon. His studies along this line are comprised in his contri- butions on " Psoriasis as an Hysterical Conversion Syn- drome " and " Hypertension Nephritis and its Uncon- scious Psychogenic Foundations." Finally, Dr. Jelliffe has occupied himself with the ques- tion of mass psychotherapy and the part played by the ar- tist in freeing the unconscious of the population and thus helping to keep the masses mentally healthy. He has an- alyzed from that point of view many plays and novels, such as " Eyes of Youth," " Peter Ibbetson," *' Dear Brutus," " The Willow Tree," " The Yellow Jacket," THE HISTORY OF PSYCHOANALYTIC RESEARCH I3 ** The Jest," " I, Mary MacLane." He has in prep- aration a volume on Ibsen's plays treated in the same manner. William H. White, superintendent of Saint Elizabeth Hospital, Washington, D. C, has amplified the Adlerian doctrine of organ inferiority but should not be described as an Adlerian in the narrow sense of the word. His feeling about the psychoanalytic movement is that it has come to be so inclusive that there is plenty of room for all the points of view that are emphasized by the different movements. Each one of the movements has contributed something valuable, and he thinks it is more important to see the value of each contribution than to become im- mersed in disputes as to their priority or relative impor- tance. White's personal contribution to the psychoanalytic movement is largely along the lines of correlating it with fundamental scientific principles as exhibited in other branches of Ivnowledge. He has done this in his " Mech- anisms of Character Formation." He has pointed out, there and in various other works, that the principles in- volved in psychoanalysis are the same principles which obtain throughout the biological sciences. In making this correlation he has examined some of the current anti- thetical concepts, such as mind and body, individual and environment, functional and organic, germ plasm and soma, and has shown that those concepts have become static and need revaluation in order to be useful in the present stage of development. He has shown that the distinctions between these pairs of opposites are by no means as rigid as has heretofore been supposed, and that a revaluation of these concepts which tends to do away 14 PSYCHOANALYSIS with the clear-cut distinctions between them, makes them more useful, more fluid, more dynamic. In " The Dis- eases of the Nervous System," written in collaboration with Dr. Smith Ely Jelllffe, he has built up a concept of the individual as a biological unit with reactions at the various levels and shown the interrelations of these sev- eral reacting levels. This is a distinctly new note in neu- rology. Dr. Edward J. Kempf, of Washington, D. C, sub- scribes to Freud's view of the influence exerted upon the personality by repressed wishes, and to Freud's inference that the wishes which cause, directly or indirectly, most, if not all, pathological adaptations, are essentially sexual. But he rejects Freud's theory of the " conversion " of libido, or what is being termed " psychic energy," into physiological or physical derangements. He follows the James-Lange theory of the peripheral origin of the emo- tions in the sense organs of the visceral and circulatory systems. We are compelled to think with our muscles by our cravings as they seek for appropriate stimuli. Wishes and cravings continue active until they are neu- tralized through acquiring appropriate counterstimula- tion. The repressed wish flows from the heightened pos- tural tension of the segment in which it had its origin. The segment becomes conditioned through years of expe- riences to seek relatively well-defined types of stimuli which alone have the capacity to neutralize (satisfy) the craving. When these conditioned needs happen to be ta- booed by society as unjust, asocial or perverse, or are un- obtainable, the foundation of the neurotic or psychotic personality is established. Kempf's book, " The Autonomic Functions of the Per- THE HISTORY OF PSYCHOANALYTIC RESEARCH 1 5 sonality," opens a new chapter in the psychology of the emotions and the part they play in the personality make- up of the individual. It strikes a note distinctly in ad- vance of Adler's theory of organ inferiority, but like that theory founds character traits in definitely located neuro-physiological processes. Recent advances in the anatomical and physiological knowledge of the autonomic nervous system and its relations to the glands and the visceral and somatic musculature have made his work possible. Kempf sees in the autonomic nervous system the prim- itive means for recording the inherent cravings — or- ganic needs — of the individual and in the cerebro-spinal or projicient nervous system the means for so relating the organism to its environment as to secure a neutraliza- tion of these needs — a satisfaction of its cravings. From this point of view the familiar psychoanalytic prob- lems of the conflict, repression, and the unconscious re- ceive a new interpretation in anatomo-physiologlcal terms. The energy of the repression is seen as bound up in visceral tonicities and postural tensions and a distinctly new viewpoint Is opened up for a consideration of many obscure visceral and neuro-psychlatric problems. Kempf has suggested a new classification of mental disturbances which will be presented In detail in Chapter XV. There are several periodicals, most of them in the German language, devoted to psychoanalysis. To the " Jahrbuch fiir Psychoanalytlsche und Psycho- pathologlsche Forschungen " and the " Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse " which I mentioned above, I shall add " Imago," a bi-monthly founded by Freud in 19 12, edited 1 6 PSYCHOANALYSIS by O. Rank and H. Sachs, and containing among other things extensive bibliographies of studies on the apphca- tion of psychoanalysis to the mental sciences. In January, 1913, the "Internationale Zeitschrift fiir Aerztliche Psychoanalyse " was founded by Freud and edited by S. Ferenczi and O. Rank. It covers the same field as the Zentralblatt which later it replaced. Besides this, Freud publishes at varying intervals monographs entitled " Freud's Schriften zur angewandten Seelen- kunde." Adler and Fortmiiller founded in 1913 the "Zeit- schrift fiir Individuale Psychologic " which presents the views of the Adlerian school. Adler is the editor of a monograph series entitled " Schriften des Vereins fiir freie Psychoanalytische Forschung." The only Journal published in English is the " Psycho- analytic Review," which aims to be catholic in its ten- dencies, a faithful mirror of the psychoanalytic movement and to represent no schisms or schools but a free forum for all. It contains besides original articles, a very extensive digest of all the periodical literature. It is edited by Dr. William A. White and Dr. Smith Ely Jelliffe, and is now In its sixth year. The " Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease " and the " Nervous and Mental Disease Monographs " have also supplied the English reading public with many special psychoanalytic studies. CHAPTER II THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES Psychoanalysis is not a panacea for all mental ills. It is much less and much more than that. It attempts to rectify but few mental abnormalities. At the same time, psychoanalytic information, if widely disseminated would probably prevent every mental disturbance which is not the result of temporary or permanent organic de- terioration, but which is psychogenic, that is, due to purely unconscious causes. For psychoanalysis is not merely a new theory of the unconscious; it is a practical method of studying the un- conscious. Matter-of-fact minds manifest a justified im- patience when encountering the countless hypotheses and definitions offered by academic psychologists. Defining the unconscious, the foreconscious and the subconscious, dilating on the relative merits of the terms consciousness and awareness, is a most barren form of mental gymnas- tics. Bergson's vital urge is an interesting conceit, as long as we do not care to know its origin or its goal; his theory of dreams is plausible but we should not seek in it a solution for the riddle of our sleeping fantasies. His distinction between thoughts that float on the surface of our consciousness like dead leaves on a pool and those that, like unto rain drops, merge immediately with the rest of our mental acquisitions, supplies the reader with 1 8 PSYCHOANALYSIS pretty images; and so do his statements about ideas knocking at the portals of consciousness. Those pleas- antly worded assertions, however, are unilluminating to the student of real life. They have no practical applica- tion in the life of the average human being. Psychoanalysis will supersede entirely the guesswork of academic psychologists, bent on generalizing about character, tendencies, instincts. Psychoanalysis is not in- terested in mental states as such; it aims at tracing their origin and at bringing about their removal when they prove harmful to the individual. It seeks to direct into useful channels mental activities which are a dangerous or a wasteful display of energy. It searches the unconscious, not for literary illustrations and similes, but for positive, scientific, practical informa- tion concerning the operations of the mind. Before Freud began his experiments, the unconscious had been regarded as the province of the theoretical psy- chologists who simply filled it with their own personal fancies, then took those fancies out, one by one, and described them to us. Practical men sneered at the word " unconscious " and ignored the possibilities which its study held out for many sciences. Our unconscious is a tremendous storage-plant full of potential energy which can be expended for beneficial or harmful ends. Like every apparatus for storing up power, it can be man's most precious ally, if man is familiar with it and, hence, not afraid of it. Ignorance and fear, on the other hand, can transform a live electric wire into an engine of destruction and death. Many indeed are the mental disturbances which are due to some fear, induced in its turn by lack of under- THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES I9 standing of some perfectly simple unconscious process. Let us illustrate our meaning: A noise wakes us up at night. The darkness, the half stupor out of which we are painfully struggling, conspire to exaggerate the sound we have perceived and to endow It with a sinister Import. Our heart beats wildly, our breathing Is impeded, we may perspire profusely, we" may be even too weak to move a limb. We press the switch, we flood the room with light and behold: a very small mouse was trying to drag a nut shell into his hole. As soon as we establish a direct connection between the insignificant cause and the sinister effect, the effect shrinks to the size of Its cause; the anxiety which a minute ago tortured us appears to us preposterous. That mouse may wake us up again, but we shall not go Into a cold sweat on Its account. We shall get a cat or buy a trap or seal up the mouse hole. Roughly speaking, the task of the analyst consists In helping the patient to trace a certain mental anxiety which Is assuming an exaggerated Importance to Its actual cause, which, nine times out of ten. Is as insignificant as a small mouse, and, in making him laugh over the Incon--"' gruous disproportion between the minute cause and Its gigantic effect, after which, analyst and patient can con- sult with each other as to whether a cat or a trap will be best to prevent further disturbances of the peace. In other words, we shall not treat the patient for heart trouble, difficulty in breathing or weakness of the limbs, unless we have made sure that there was no mouse in the room. We shall throw a flood of light into the room and locate the mouse or at least Its hiding-place. Old fashioned medicine was too frequently guilty of the sin with which we have charged academic phlloso- 20 PSYCHOANALYSIS phers. It too often took a label for an explanation. A young woman may be taken sick with vomiting fits. Nothing she ate seems responsible for that gastric dis- turbance. No physiological condition, such as preg- nancy, can be invoked as a cause. The family physician gravely diagnoses " hysterical vomiting." A child goes to school and is affected in the same way without any apparent cause. He is sent home and the trouble diagnosed as " school nausea." In other words, people who vomit without any physio- logical reason can be said to be suffering from " hyster- ical " or " school " vomiting. And, inversely, " hyster- ical vomiting " or " school nausea " are conditions In which people vomit without any apparent cause; which is extremely illuminating and helpful. Ascribing a name to such symptoms and prescribing a tonic will not prevent the mysterious symptoms from reappearing or becoming habitual. Analyzing the trouble on the other hand according to the methods de- vised by Freud, Jung, Adler, Jelliffe, White and Kempf, will bring to the patient's consciousness the unconscious forces which produced the disturbance. When both woman and child are made to realize th^t they may have harbored a grudge against a husband or a teacher who did not respond to their craving for atten- tion, and in a morbid way forced their environment to offer them compensation for that slight, they may take a saner view of their trouble. Some simple readjustment may be suggested in both cases. The vomiting woman and child were the victims of their unconscious. Something, of which they were not aware, compelled them to perform actions of a distriess- THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES 21 ing nature. They were like a subject to whom a hypno- tizer has given a command, for instance, to arise at five o'clock and then go and knock at some one's door. The subject will carry out the command but will not remember the hypnotic scene and will substitute for the command, which has become unconscious, some perfectly plausible reason for performing the acts prescribed by the hypno- tist. On the other hand when the memory of the hypnotic scene is re-awakened, as Liebault and Bernheim have shown can be done, the subject readily realizes the ab- surdity of the excellent reasons he gave for his peculiar behavior. Our woman and child suffering from nausea would in all likelihood assure us that the heat or something they ate, saw or heard, had distressed them. The hypnotized subject would tell us that he heard moans in the other person's room and was trying to offer help, or some other story of the same type. And all of them would be perfectly sincere. Their fabrications would be purely unconscious and no one would be justified in impeaching their good faith. They would tell us what they were conscious of, but their behavior would be prompted by psychic forces of which they are unconscious. Our unconscious can be described as the sum of all the experiences of our life. Some can be readily made conscious, are easily recalled, and are constantly at our disposal; some have been apparently forgotten, and can- not be brought easily to consciousness, except through special efforts, either because they were too trifling, or because their unpleasant or painful character caused them 22 PSYCHOANALYSIS to be repressed and to sink, so to speak, to the bottom of our unconscious. We discover the presence of some of those repressed ideas only through the disturbances they may produce, even as astronomers sometimes discover the existence of an unseen planet by observing the influence it has on the course of other celestial bodies. The unconscious has been likened by Stanley Hall to an iceberg which proceeds on its voyage regardless of the direction of the wind. Most of the berg, hov/ever, is hidden under the surface and it is by powerful currents, invisible to the casual observer, and not by the wind, that the mass of floating ice is being driven irresistibly toward its goal. Many of the ideas, desires, cravings, which we have repressed in the course of our life, for the reason that they did not fit in with the environment in which we were born, continue to live a life of their own in our un- conscious mind. For nothing in human nature can be suppressed or annihilated. Those unconscious ideas which at times exert a mysterious influence upon our con- duct and upon our mental and physical health, have been designated by psychoanalysts as complexes. Interrelated groups of complexes are called constellations of com- plexes. Those complexes, which represent points of collision between a vital urge and the ruthless world of reality, act much like steam in a boiler. They constantly seek an outlet. If the boiler is strong and supplied with a good safety-valve, no explosion will take place. If the human specimen is healthy, without organic defects and can in- dulge in a reasonable amount of pleasurable activity, no THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES 23 mental or physical disturbance may take place. Given a certain weakness somewhere, with no mental or physi- cal safety-valve, and the repressed urges may assert them- selves through a neurosis, a psychoneurosis, a psychosis or a perversion, converting themselves at times into strange physical symptoms, which do not seem traceable to any) apparent physical cause. What are then the elements which seek an outlet and through what mechanism are they repressed? There is in man something which for lack of a better word we would designate after Bergson as the " vital urge " and which operates in three directions. Man must be fed and hence impelled by a certain urge to seek sufficient food. He must be impelled by some urge to perpetuate his species. He must avoid encoun- ters with harmful stimuli. We may then speak of a nutrition urge, of a sex urge and of . safety urge. The normal satisfaction of those three urg-es is always accompanied by a feeling of pleas- ure or, at least, of well being. Their denial is always accompanied by a feeling of displeasure or discomfort. The three urges have been greatly developed by civil- ization and partake of its complexity. Desire for food awakened in man a desire to extend his domination over a certain territory from which he derived his food supply and to drive away from It other individuals when he could not extend his domination over them. The will-to- power was born. That will-to-power, gratified or un- gratlfied, became a source of egotism. The ego, weak in the animals, became extraordinary powerful in man. Animals are static, man seeks constantly a higher level. The nutrltion-power-ego urge may be located in the 24 PSYCHOANALYSIS cranial division of the autonomic nervous system whose function is the upbuilding of the body (the vagus nerve causes saliva and gastric juice to flow, slows down the heart and activates intestinal peristalsis). The sex urge is still connected nervously with the func- tion of voiding the urine and feces as it was anatomically in primitive animals. It might be designated as the sex- excretion urge and located in the sacral division of the autonomic nervous system which regulates the bladder, rectum and genitals. The safety urge is located in the sympathetic or thorac- ico-lumbar division of the autonomic nervous system whose fibers extend all over the organism and which at every point balances and opposes the specific action of the cranial and sacral divisions. In emergencies the sympathetic fibers stop the flow of saliva and of gastric juice, release sugar from the liver, cause the heart to beat faster and interrupt sexual ac- tivities, thus stopping all display of energy which is not directly necessary in a struggle and supplying more en- ergy to the skeletal muscles. In the normal individual, the safety urge preserves the organic equilibrium, only overthrowing the ego and sex urge when a specific danger has to be warded off. The realm of the urges is both mental and physical: the self-protection urge will ward us against a fall and against speaking the wrong word, the ego-power urge will prompt us to lie about our social standing or to assault a possible rival. The self-protection urge is so important that whenever it appears to be deficient in an individual, that individual is taken in hand by society. Anyone exposing himself THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES 2^ uselessly to danger or death Is soon restrained by the authorities. As Kempf says, " The whole question of the Individ- ual's successful struggle for life depends upon what stim- uli In the environment cause fear reactions in the auton- omic apparatus." The fear of danger and the craving for self-protection In animals are not entirely instinctive but partly acquired. Hunters entering virgin territories can approach game without precautions or concealment; the young of many animals which In their adult state carefully avoid man's nearness, are often unafraid and lend themselves to painless handling, unless imitation of their panicky elders compels them to go through flight motions. Kempf tells the following Incident, illustrating the workings of the self-protection urge and Its unconscious character: " I well remember an experience while walk- ing across a field. As my foot was descending In the stride, a partly coiled something caught my eye, lying very near the place where the foot was to touch the ground. Instantly the leg supporting the body reflexly projected It onward and the foot which had descended too far to be retracted was extended out of danger by a movement which started as a step but terminated In a leap. Painful visceral reactions seem to have started be- fore the perception of a snake was formed. The auton- omic reflex activities are quicker than perception." The sex urge and the ego urge are far from being as necessary for the individual's survival as the self-protec- tion and nutrition urge. Society affects to ignore their existence and in certain cases denies It entirely. While a prisoner is kept forcibly alive and is not allowed to 26 PSYCHOANALYSIS commit suicide or to injure himself physically, no gratifi- cation is vouchsafed to his sexual desires or any other craving for pleasure, and his personality disappears, his name being replaced by a number; he is shorn of all power over himself and others; his opinion on any sub- ject is completely disregarded. The sex urge has been designated by Freud as the sexual libido, a term which unless carefully explained leads to many misunderstandings. In the Freudian sense of the word, sexual must not be considered as synonymous with genital, but includes all the pleasurable physical activities which in the infant resemble the primary and secondary sexual activities of the adult, and include prim- itive infantile suggestions of later perversions, all ac-tiv- ities which Freud has grouped under the rubric of " poly- morphous perverse activities " and which at puberty are clearly differentiated into genital and nongenital activi- ties. It may be said that in a general way the conscious aim of this urge is physical pleasure, its unconscious aim pro- creation. The ego urge constitutes the main difference between man and the animals. Animals, as I said before, are static. Beavers erect their dams and bees build their combs according to formulas which do not seem to have changed through the ages and which are not, judging from the observations made during several centuries, likely to change considerably in the near future. Man, on the contrary, is constantly modifying his formulas. He is constantly Inventing new devices. Ani- mals either adapt themselves to their environment and sur- vive, or fail to adapt themselves and die off. Man THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE URGES 2% adapts his environment to his needs. Primitive man first wall^ed, then he tamed various animals available as mounts, then hitched vehicles to them, then substituted steam and, later, electricity for horse or ox power, then soared helplessly above the earth, then developed as much freedom and more speed in the air than on the surface of the earth. The ego urge is a source of restlessness, dis- content and ambition, creating desire to reach a new level, preferably a higher one. While the Freudian school has attributed an extreme importance to sex, an observation made frequently by Lombroso would suggest that the ego urge was more stubborn in its striving for expression than the sex urge. Hypnotized subjects can be made to accept the suggestion that their sex has been changed; men readily accept the fiction that they are women. Men and women on the other hand will resist stubbornly the suggestion that their social status has been diminished and the resistance they present to the hypnotizer who tries to make them play a menial or humiliating role generally leads to their awak- ening. The yellow press, in its efforts to appeal to the multitude, fills its columns with news which gratifies the disparaging instincts of its readers, murders, scandals, stories of deceit and dishonesty, all of which by display- ing other people's inferiority, flatter the readers' ego. Any moral weakness exhibited by the powerful and wealthy lends itself to screaming headlines. The ego urge permeates every relation of life, even the purely sexual relations. " The test of real love," Ad- ler says, " would be the fact that the loved person would be allowed to preserve his or her personality. The aver- age love relation, on the contrary, is the more pleasant 28 PSYCHOANALYSIS to each partner as one of them seems to sacrifice some of his personal worth, thus increasing the personal worth of the other. There is a continuous tendency to put one's I'^ve partner to some tests and possibly to humiliate him or her slightly thereby. Then jealousy comes into play, revealing the desire of the jealous partner to monopolize the object of his love, and in a measure pleasing the sus- pected person, as being an evidence of his or her worth and attraction to others." We must always bear in mind that the three main urges, like all human phenomena, are closely related and can never be considered as absolute entities. Sucking the mother's nipple which in the infant is primarily an activ- ity meant to secure food, develops into a semi-sexual ac- tivity totally unrelated to nutrition and from which kiss- ing originates. The physical pleasure a Don Juan de- rives from a new conquest increases his egotism and his sense of power; and reciprocally Don Juan's newly ac- quired sense of power and Increased egotism, revealed by certain attitudes, postures, buoyancy, mental and phys- ical may increase his sexual pleasures by vouchsafing him new conquests, etc. A great egotist may be so filled with a sense of his importance that he will desire an increase in protection commensurate with the growth of his real or imaginary power, etc. CHAPTER III THE REPRESSION OF THE URGES A HUMAN couple placed alone on the earth, supplied with plenty of food and surrounded by a harmless fauna, would not have to repress many of their urges. They could avoid collisions with obstacles, falls from elevated points or into pits, the broiling sun or the chilling rain, satisfy without reservation their various cravings for pleasure, rule despotically over their environment, and as long as desire made them the two incomplete halves of a human unit, they could live on without severe strife. In other words such a couple in such an environment, Adam and Eve in an earthly paradise, could thrive with- out developing their sense of reality. As soon as a bil- lion or more human beings must disport themselves on the surface of the same planet, conditions change entirely. Collisions between moving objects are less avoidable than collisions between a moving object, on the one hand, and a motionless obstacle on the other; proprietary interest of the male in one female and of one female in one male, and the unsynchronized manifestations of pleasure crav- ings in variously constituted individuals prevent the un- regulated expression and gratification of desire on the part of individuals and couples; no one couple can any longer tyrannize over the earth. Every individual and every couple must develop a keen sense of reality or come to grief, physically or mentally. 29 30 PSYCHOANALYSIS The acquisitfon of a sense of reality is a slow process in the life of the individual. For heredity does not seem to carry that characteristic from generation to generation. Reality is the enemy against which we struggle all our life, trying all the while to minimize the harm it may inflict upon us. The compromise which most of us fin- ally reach with reality is at best a shaky arrangement which has to be revised frequently. In that struggle the strongest and the weakest go down in defeat. The struggle begins early in life. Before birth the hu- man being finds itself in a state of unconditional omnipo- tence, to use Ferenczi's words. The inimical outer world exists only in a very restricted degree; only light and sound sensations penetrate the mother's body; all of the child's needs for protection, warmth and nourishment are assured by the mother; oxygen and food are brought di- rectly into its blood vessels. The foetus is omnipotent, for it has everything it needs without even wishing for it. As mind and memory probably begin to function before birth, the human being's revolt against restriction, its ideas of megalomania, the latter being the more irresist- ible as the human being reverts more completely to an infantile level, are seen to be promptings of the ego urge which undoubtedly develops long before any other. The stage which the child traverses after birth is desig- nated by Ferenczi as the period of magic-hallucinatory omnipotence. The child has wishes and as soon as it has them the nurse knows those wishes and proceeds to satisfy them at once. After the first nursing, the child's anger at its first contact with the hostile outer world and its resultant loss of power, is quieted and the child goes to sleep, re- THE REPRESSION OF THE URGES 3 1 verting more or less completely to the womb condition. Having no knowledge of the concatenation of cause and effect, or of the nurse's existence, the child feels itself obscurely in the possession of a magic capacity which can realize its wishes through the mere imagination of their- satisfaction. Gradually the child begins to suspect the existence of reality, and to differentiate between the " I " and the " Not I." The complexity of wishes increases. They soon require signals to be understood by the environment. The infant that wants to be fed, imitates the motions of sucking, it stretches out its hands for the objects it wants. The child develops a system of signals, a gesture-language which is well understood by the environment. The infant is still omnipotent. This is the period of omnipotence by the help of magic gestures. Later the infant learns the code signals, silent or spoken, in use in its environment, it expresses its needs in the current vernacular and those needs are generally satisfied as soon as they are expressed and perceived by its environment. This is the period of almost complete omnipotence through magic words. We see how mental deterioration corresponds to those four grades of infantilism. The hopeless paranoiac, who has reverted to the first period of infancy, feels himself pmnipotent; in a less advanced degree of deterioration he |Tiay fulfill his wishes through hallucinations, like the in- fant in his second stage ; the savage or the childlike man fjelieves in magic gestures, casting off the evil eye, sprin- kling the ground to bring rain, etc.; finally the super- stitious individual trusts in certain formulas, prayers, in- cantations, magic numbers, curses, etc. The fourth period in the infant's life brings the first 32 PSYCHOANALYSIS feeling of inferiority. Reality must henceforth be reck- oned with. Childhood begins. The barriers which sur- round the child assume more and more consistency. At first they were the caressing hands of a loving mother. They end by becoming steel walls. Movable at first, they will, in later life, assume an unchangeable position, allowing the individual little freedom of motion except in certain definite directions. The repression of all the urges begins. The infant was first supplied with liquid food at the proper temperature which could be assimilated without any exertion; later with foods of pleasant taste and of little consistency. It enjoyed all the imaginable pleas- ures, plenty of sleep, the absence of harmful sights or sounds, absolute freedom to exert its lungs at any time, day or night, and to satisfy physical needs at any time or place. It could display its body without clothing, indulge in all sorts of muscular activities, satisfy its curiosity as to its own or some one else's body; it had the pleasant feeling of being constantly a center of attention and in- terest and an object of affection. When the infant becomes a child, most of his liberties are taken away. He must wear clothes and keep them on during the day; he must partake of certain foods which are not necessarily pleasant, which present a sometimes disagreeable consistency and must be handled with a cer- tain amount of skill. Instead of cooing, howling or sing- ing whenever he pleases, the child discovers conversation, which consists in waiting until some other person stops making vocal noises before we can produce some our- selves. He must observe a thousand rules of " decency." THE REPRESSION OF THE URGES 33 The ** Not I " appears monstrously developed In com- parison with the " I." All the statements made by poets and fiction writers to the contrary notwithstanding, childhood is probably the most painful period of our life. There takes place a terrific transformation of values which makes a misde- meanor of many an action which in the infant was praise- worthy. The fluctuation of standards at that age is harrowing. In certain respects the child must be a grown-up, in others an infant. He must respect the truth and yet many of his troubles come from the fact that he has not acquired as yet the hypocrisy whereby he shall conceal his displeasure or hostility or express con- ventional pleasure and sympathy. The activities which Freud has designated as " poly- morphous perverse " must be completely repressed when childhood begins and remain repressed or, at least, un- mentioned and unnoticed until puberty. The infant, first interested in its own body, develops what is called '* nar- cism." Curiosity of a justifiable character about the most Important parts of that body, the mouth and the excretory outlets, leads the child to put into its mouth every object it comes in contact with and to indulge in coprophilic plays, (playing with feces or urine). Nar- cism leads to exhibitionism. After studying its wonder- ful body, the infant wishes to show it to others, boasting of It as it would of a curious toy. The handling of that toy leads to the discovery of some especially erogenous, pleasurable zones. The desire to expend whatever in- terest cannot be expendea upon its own body gradually causes the Infant to conceive some attachment for other 34 PSYCHOANALYSIS human beings, for its mother, the great supplier of wants, for the father, the source of possible protection, for similar human beings, the other infants, male or female. It is not until puberty that the incest taboo and the homo- sexual taboo bring about a strict differentiation in the child's attitude to blood relations and to strangers, to individuals of the same or of a different sex. Technically, the infant holds in a latent state the stuff from which every perversion will be made. The repression of all the elements which are either useless, or harmful, or undesirable, for life as it must be lived in reality, will be the great task of childhood. h The repression will be the more arduous as all those polymorphous activities are protean in their nature, and before puberty the tendencies of the various urges are far from being as clearly defined as they are after pu- berty. There is as much pleasure-seeking. as there is egotism and infantile sexuality in exhibitionism. For instance : the child feels strong and free, and wishes to show that strength and freedom to others, and perhaps to prove it to himself. No illustrations are needed to show how our sex-pleas- ure urge and our ego-power urge are being repressed in childhood and adulthood, by our self-protection urge, by society or our environment. We are prevented from per- forming certain sexual or egotistic actions by our self- protection urge, educated gradually by life among human beings. Certain acts would decrease our food supply, our phys- ical safety, and endanger our social standing, our power, our sense of superiority. THE REPRESSION OF THE URGES 35| In many cases, however, the struggle between the self- protection urge and the sex and ego urge is an uneven one. Our egotism and will-to-power cause us to repress fear and to pretend that we are not afraid. We throw ourselves into the water to save a drowning person ; sol- diers in the trenches behave bravely under fire; children are trained to enter dark rooms; a man may disregard all the rules of physical safety In order to win a certain woman. It is in childhood that the strife is most bitter. It is in childhood that we force ourselves to forget the great- est number of cravings. But as we said before nothing can be suppressed and nothing can be forgotten which was not extremely unimportant. Hypnosis and analysis bring back to consciousness thousands of details which had been apparently buried forever in our unconscious. Our childhood Is the period of our lives which we remember the least distinctly. Its events seem to have never taken place. Some of us are deceived on that point. They remember themselves as children. That alone shows that such memories as they have are only cover-memories, concealing something unpleasant, or ac- quired memories, based upon statements made by their parents or pictures seen In family albums. For In real memories we never see ourselves; we are as In our dreams, In the center of the stage and everything else present Is related to us, the things not related to us being Inexistent. That amnesia of our childhood happenings Is due to the unpleasant character of that period of continuous re- pression. When adulthood Is reached, no new form of repression takes place except In emergencies, or when the human 3 6 PSYCHOANALYSIS being moves from his original environment into an en- tirely new one. Then, of course, the sense of reality is submitted to a definite revision. Normality is simply the ability to adapt oneself to one's environment without too much fric- tion. Abnormality is either the inabihty or the unwill- ingness to adapt oneself. What may be normal in one part of the world may be abnormal elsewhere. It is normal for a human being to build a snow house, to go fishing and hunting at all sea- sons, if he was born under the Arctic circle and intends to live there. The same behavior, observed in a busy metropolis, would necessitate some interference on the part of the police. A ceremonial highly reputable in Central Africa might be considered as a proof of insanity in the temperate zone. The normal individual is, then, the one who submits, at least in appearance, to the rules restricting individual freedom in his environment and who seeks compensation for whatever he gives up in ways which are either social or harmless. The abnormal individual either refuses to submit, or seeks compensation in ways which are either asocial or harmful to the individual himself. The form of compensation which the individual will seek depends on the type to which he belongs. The process of repression of the urges produces two human types which Jung has defined as follows: *' The introverted type, which finds unconditioned values within himself, and the extroverted type which finds the uncon- ditioned value outside himself. The introverted con- siders everything under the aspect of the value of his THE REPRESSION OF THE URGES 37 own ego; the extroverted depends upon the value of his object." The " classicists " of Ostwald, the " ApoUonians " of Nietzsche, the " tender-minded " of James are intro- verted; the "romanticists" of Ostwald, the " Dionysi- ans " of Nietzsche, the " tough-minded " of James are extroverted. Civilizations can be classified from that point of view. The East is more introverted, the West more extroverted. As White puts it, " To the extent that our interests flow outward and attach themselves to objects and events in the outer world of reality, we are extroverted. . . . The introverted person is one who views the world from within, considers the world accord- ing to the effect it has upon him." Introverts and extroverts will go through life seeking different kinds of compensation for the repression of their urges. That compensation shall be either normal or abnormal. An inkling of what the normal compensation will be is given us by Mencken in his definition of the ApoUonians and Dionysians (introverts and extro- verts) ; " Epic poetry, sculpture, painting and story telling are apollonic: they represent, not life itself, but some man's visualized view of life. Dancing, great deeds and, In some cases, music, are dionysian; they are part and parcel of life as some actual human being or collection of human beings. Is living it." The compensation may be abnormal. " We see," .White writes, " extroversion In a severe hysteria or a maniacal excitement, or intro- version manifested in a psychoneurosis or a dementia praecox. . . . We constantly see people so extroverted that they are confused by the multiplicity of objects . . . we find people ... so introverted that they are severely 38 PSYCHOANALYSIS hampered ... by superstitions, about thirteen perhaps, or starting anything on Friday." The next nine chapters will be devoted to a study of the ways in which normal people find compensation for the various wishes, desires and cravings which social adaptation, without which community life is impossible, has repressed during their infancy, childhood and adult- hood. Some of those compensatory activities are purely self- ish; some have a high social value which in certain cases has been recognized and rewarded by society. CHAPTER IV NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS Foremost among the normal outlets for the energy which our daily clashes with civilization repress and store up in our unconscious are night and day dreams. In our dreams we no longer know any limitations. Our free- dom is absolute. We generally develop forms of power with which mankind has not been endowed, such as fly- ing or moving at a terrific speed; in every scene we occupy the center of the stage; custom and ethics hardly bother us. There had been thousands of dream books before Freud's day, but no scientist worthy of the name had ever occupied himself with those apparently nonsensical phe- nomena until Freud observed a strange relationship be- tween the condition of some of his patients and their dreams. Here again, he proceeded, not from a preconceived the- ory, but in a purely empirical way, collecting numberless dreams and analyzing them as methodically as a scientist, finding himself in the presence of an unknown body, would determine its nature and composition by weighing it, measuring it, and submitting it to the action of various re-agents. What causes dreams? Certain scientists consider dreams as the remnants of the day's unfinished thoughts, which, in some erratic way, complete themselves or spend themselves at night. 39 40 PSYCHOANALYSIS Bergson, as delightfully vague on this as on any other subject, supposes that in our sleep our powers of attention are weakened and allow certain ideas to es- cape. Others attribute to dreams a purely physical cause: a heavy dinner may cause nightmares, insufficient bed cloth- ing may cause us to dream that we are at the North Pole, etc. Maury, who studied dreams experimentally for years, gives in " Le Sommeil et les Reves " a most interesting list of dreams produced in himself by physical stimuli. One of his students was instructed to tickle him on the nose and lips with a feather. He dreamed that a mask of pitch was applied to his face and then removed sud- denly, tearing off the skin. A piece of wood having struck the back of his neck, he dreamed that he had taken part in the French Revolution, had been arrested, sentenced to death and that the exe- cutioner was letting the guillotine's knife descend to cut off his head. The " scrap of thoughts " theory explains nothing, nor does Bergson's ingenious supposition; while Maury's ex- periments fail to show why the same stimulus never causes exactly the same dream. The first important observation Freud made about dreams was that they always contain an allusion to some detail of our life during the previous waking state Something we saw, heard, said or did between the time of our previous awakening and the time when we went to sleep plays a certain part in every one of our dreams. An enormous amount of condensation also takes place. Things, people, ideas, are frequently compressed into NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS ^I composite formations, like the monstrosity seen by one of Ferenczl's patients, a creature which was half a horse, half a physician, and attired in a night gown. The discussion of a dream with the dreamer brings out such an infinite variety of reminiscences that it is obvious that the dream thoughts exceed greatly the remembered dream content. A displacement of Interest also takes place in every dream. Some Insignificant detail of the dream Is extremely ex- aggerated, while some important detail is hardly men- tioned. Also the dream always represents the " story " In a dramatic form. The story is never told us In the dream but always " acted." Finally a re-arrangement of the dream seems to take place in which the thoughts which, owing to displacement and dramatization, coupled with allusions to events of the day previous and the condensation of people or objects, might appear completely absurd, are given an appearance of sense and connection. This is what Freud calls the secondary elaboration. The majority of the dreams of adults deal with erotic subjects. Finally, many dreams caused by physical stimuli have a tendency to protect our sleep by making the physical stimulus, sound, light, heat, etc., plausible and unlikely to worry us and wake us up. A light flashed in the sleeper's eyes may be dramatized by the "dream work" so as to represent lightning or a beacon light at sea. The unexpected and unexplained character of the stim- 42 PSYCHOANALYSIS ulus no longer causes the sleeper to question the source of the stimulus and he remains peacefully asleep. As it is probable that we never stop thinking night or day, any more than our heart stops beating, our lungs absorbing oxygen, our blood coursing through our ar- teries and veins, and liver storing up sugar, our night thinking is conditioned, like our day thinking, by the same struggle between our urges. In our waking states, our constantly active and seldom repressed self-protection urge, which Freud calls the " censor," prevents us from doing, speaking of, and very often thinking of actions which would endanger our life or comfort. In our waking life, the self-protection urge, backed by our social and physical environment, generally carries the day and successfully suppresses all the activ- ities which society would censure severely. At night, however, when the self-protection urge can relax its vig- ilance (for in the sleep-paralysis of the motor centers, thoughts are seldom likely to be translated into deeds), the repressed sex and ego urges gain the upper hand. Their victory, however, is not won without a stren- uous fight. That fight is often revealed by horrible dreams known as anxiety dreams, in the course of which we may undergo great physical or mental suffering and be tortured by various fears. Careful study of all dreams, however, including night- mares, anxiety dreams and " horrors," will reveal to us that every dream is the fulfilment of a conscious or un- conscious wish, and a form of compensation for the re- pressed strivings of our urges. Certain obvious dreams will confirm this statement. Otto Nordenskjold in his book " The Antarctic," pub- NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS 43 llshed in 1904, described the dreams which he and his men, marooned in a Polar wilderness, living on preserves, cut off from the world's news, vainly straining their eyes to catch sight of a sail, had night after night. They would dream of attending dinner parties where meals of many courses would be served; the postman appeared with bags of mail; there were mountains of tobacco to be had; ships were approaching under full sail, etc. Other dreams, however, are not quite so obvious, and require more ingenuity if they are to be interpreted as wish fulfilment. Some are so completely disfigured by condensation and displacement that they may appear to be anything but wish fulfilment. Freud says that all the dreams of one night, when con- sidered with respect to their content, are simply parts of one unit. Their separation into several portions, their groupings, have a special meaning. The first part of our dreams is more disfigured, .more bashful, than the end. This lends credibility to Maeder's theory that our dreams seek constantly a satisfying solution for our un- conscious problems. In seeking that solution, that is, in trying to liberate the suppressed unconscious, the dream is hampered by the censor, which, being in part acquired, while the other urges are congenital, goes down to defeat at the end of the dream or at the end of the night. The censor then disfigures the action of the drama In such a way that we have a so-called " anxiety dream," which appears just the opposite of a wish fulfilment. But that anxiety is simply due to the struggle between an impulse emanating from the unconscious and the cen- 44 PSYCHOANALYSIS sor. Therefore when a sensation of inhibition in the dream is accomplished by anxiety there must be present a volition which has at one time been capable of arousing a desire. Unable to prevent the wish from being fulfilled, our censor transforms the wish and its satisfaction into sym- bolic presentations, which are not consciously understood by the dreamer. We shall see in another chapter what symbols mean. Symbols are the lingua franca of the dream and no at- tempt at dream interpretation should be made by anyone who has not mastered that language. Let us give one example which will enable the reader to find a confirma- tion of Freud's theory even in dreams which seem to con- tradict it flatly. A young woman may dream that a horse is stamping over her. In all dreams of all na- tions at all periods of history, being trampled upon by a horse is a symbol of submission to the sexual act. . . . The displacement of interest may also create at times a scepticism as to Freud's theory. One of Freud's patients told him that she had dreamed of attending the funeral of her little nephew to whom she was greatly attached. It turned out, however, that at the funeral of another nephew she had met a man with whom she fell in love. The dream of the second funeral was really meant to bring her together with that man under circumstances similar to the ones under which she met him first. The most important detail of the dream, the man she loved, was hardly noticeable, while the funeral, which was a mere pretext, was exaggerated considerably. This displacement can well be illustrated by incidents NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS 45 of our daily life. A man who finds no plausible excuse for calling on a woman he likes, may pretend that he left his umbrella at her house. He will ask the servants, the family, for the missing umbrella, in other words magnify greatly a detail which in itself is insignificant. He will not even allude to the all-important reason of his call, his desire to see the woman of his fancies. The dramatization of every incident by the dream-work Is one more piece of evidence that the dream is meant to fulfill a wish. Frazer mentions in the " Golden Bough " that savage and primitive races always present dramatically the events which they desire to bring about, for instance, sprinkling the ground in order to produce rain, their belief being that the visual presentation of an event effectively con- tributes to its production. The way in which our dream seeks solutions for men- tal conflicts is well illustrated by one of my dreams. One night before the date set for a lecture which I was to deliver on a rather delicate subject, likely to involve me in difficulties, and which I would have preferred not to deliver, I had the following dream: I was seated on the stage at Carnegie Hall where an enormous audience had gathered to hear me. The chair- man was busy making various announcements. I looked at my feet and discovered that I wore bed slippers. I felt embarrassed at that undignified detail of my toilet and for a second or so planned to go home and return in more conventional attire. I finally decided to stay. Then, as the chairman was beginning to announce me, I looked for my lecture notes, and could not find them. I made an effort to remember the outHne of my lecture 4-6 PSYCHOANALYSIS and could not recall anything whatever. I then decided to disappear without warning the chairman. As I emerged into the hall, I met two women I knew and felt the need of explaining my action. I explained to them that the heat was nauseating me and that I would have to go home. A few steps further down the hall I met a physician who looked at me and said with deep compas- sion, " The poor fellow is very sick." Then I began to vomit and went home. The dream offered me several excuses for breaking my engagement. My appearance was undignified (bed slip- pers), I was not sufficiently prepared, I was sick. I se- cured a friendly physician's testimonial as to my physical condition. The choice of sickness (nausea) made by the dream, is the more interesting as hysterical vomiting is often brought about by a more or less unconscious unwilling- ness to perform an unpleasant task. While the dream was, in its general make-up, an " anx- iety dream," still, for the time being, it had solved the problem raised by that unpleasant lecture engagement and had replaced one form of mental anguish by one In- finitely more bearable. My self-protection urge wished me to cancel the en- gagement. The dream cancelled it, at the same time giv- ing plenty of satisfaction to my ego urge: Carnegie Hall, one of the largest halls in New York City, where, by the way, I have never spoken, a large audience, and finally humiliation avoided, thanks to the physician's statement as to my physical condition, which " saved my face." I may add that at the time I was expecting the par- ticular physician who appeared in the dream to perform J NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS 47 a similar service for me. One of the two women was a hospital nurse I had seen the day before (an actual event from my previous waking state). Finally the dream-work did not simply give me advice as to means of breaking my engagement but dramatized the breaking of that engagement. Certain dreams only fulfill our wish by appealing to our logic. Among those are examination dreams. Ex- amination dreams generally precede some trial in our life which we are not sure of undergoing successfully. Only those, who have passed examinations, dream that they fail. It is as though the dream said to us: "Your difficulties are imaginary; this is only a dream, for you know very well that you passed this examination years ago." Certain anxiety dreams play the part of mental com- forters. We have a feeling while dreaming that " it is only a dream," that we can wake ourselves up and escape the horror by a mere act of will, or a sudden mo- tion. And we generally manage to do so. Maeder gives interesting illustrations of solution dreams in his '' Dream Problem." A man who had been struggling for a long time with certain bad habits saw himself traveling in a railroad carriage, stepping out of the car, climbing a house and disappearing at the top of the lightning rod. Another, in the same predicament, saw an objectionable man, symbolizing his own bad habits, ejected forcibly from a church. Certain dreams may be so unpleasant that It Is difficult for laymen to consider them as any form of wish fulfil- ment. 48 PSYCHOANALYSIS Some appear unpleasant on account of the process of displacement I have mentioned before. A poor man dreamed that he was in the office of the tax commissioner, filling out his income tax report. He declared the $2000 on which no tax was due, but the. clerk, who received his report, eyed him in a hostile way, called a policeman and had him arrested. He was taken to court and convicted of concealing an Income of several millions. The " anxiety " element of the fantasy was simply due to the struggle of the censor or self-pro- tection urge restraining the man's ego urge from imagin- ing such incredible financial prosperity. Other so-called " anxiety dreams " are the fulfilment of some repressed infantile wish, such as incest or the death of our parents. Freud has proved the presence of many incestuous ideas in the infantile mind. Those ideas are repressed when the infant becomes a child or later in life when ethical teachings make it impossible for him even to entertain such thoughts. They linger in the unconscious, however, and some time become liberated by the dream- work. Freud calls our attention to the fact that in the child's vocabulary, " to die " simply means to go away, to disap- pear. Children, after attending their father's funeral, may ask anxiously the next day: "Why don't Daddy come home?" The threat often expressed by children in their disputes, " I hope you'll die," is to be interpreted in that harmless way. And likewise, the feeling of burden, of encumbrance produced at times by our parents, relatives or friends, which makes us long for a larger freedom, may translate NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS 49 itself Into the infantile parlance of dreams and visualize for us an event which would in reality be extremely pain- ful for us. The reason why we forget our dreams and sometimes imagine that we never dream, Is probably the same reason which causes us to forget many happenings of our life. Some are insignificant and some are painful. Freud says that much of the apparently disconnected character of our dreams is due to the fact that the censor has cut out bod- ily entire parts of the dream or at least repressed our memory of them, as they touch unpleasant complexes. He compares the " disconnected " character of dreams with the rambling talk of delirious patients, in which gaps represent what the patient would like to say but is pre- vented from saying by the censor. The patient's words are also disconnected, but a knowledge of his history and of his complexes enables one to fill those gaps. Dreams may be at times prophetic, and at other times may be made to appear so on account of a coincidence. Any subject which obsesses our minds Is likely to occupy our dreams frequently. Our dream-work, constantly seeking the solution of our life problems, may easily point out a solution which Is practicable in our ac- tual life. Almost all the dreams of the race have at some time come to pass. The most universal dream Is that of flying. Man now flies. Magic mirrors, magic horns, enabling man to see distant parts of the earth and to talk to distant countries, have given birth to the tele- scope and the telephone. Our mind, dreaming of thousands of solutions, may well visualize some night one solution which will turn 50 PSYCHOANALYSIS out to be the actual one, after which the coincidence strikes us and makes us forget all the other solutions which were discarded earlier. A newspaper headline may remind us suddenly of some dream we had the night before. Thousands of people who had dreams of shipwrecks or merely of ships may have credited their dreams with prophetic power when the next morning they read of the sinking of the Titanic or of the Liisitania. Self-suggestion in such cases adds many details which were not actually a part of the dream. Munsterberg's experiments with students who often reported with fan- tastic inaccuracy happenings taking place in the class- room should make us slightly suspicious of our ability to remember exactly the details of our dreams. Day dreams are very similar to night dreams, the prin- cipal difference being that we are more likely to remem- ber our day dreams than our night dreams and therefore the former appear more consistent. In them, also, we seem to pay closer attention to physical probability and possibility, although that does not apply to all cases and rather depends upon individual fancies and habits. There is as much condensation in day dreams as In night dreams, there being a gradual transformation In the appearance of people and things Instead of simulta- neous combinations of heterogeneous elements. We ob- serve In them the same dramatization, displacement and secondary elaboration. In artists, that secondary elab- oration may become the thread and woof of a novel or play In which the primal elements have been absorbed. Day dreams, like night dreams, show a strong sexual content, one half of their component elements being sex- NIGHT DREAMS AND DAY DREAMS 5 1 ual, the other half egotistic. In other words, love and ambition are their subject matter. The censor, being able in our waking states to repress more easily certain thoughts, does not resort as often to symbolization as it does in night dreams. Since logic and conventionality are In our waking state the allies of the self-protection urge, symbols are not so necessary for purposes of repres- sion. CHAPTER V SYMBOLS, THE LANGUAGE OF THE DREAM Before attempting to decipher the meaning of dreams we must become familiar with the language in which they generally express themselves. Whatever desire rising from the sex or the ego urge is denied expression in our sleeping state by our self-protection urge forces its way into our consciousness in the disguise of a symbol. Denied the use of the current vernacular, the repressed urge speaks in another language in which it says what- ever it wishes to say. And curiously enough, the sleeper himself may not hav^ the faintest idea of the wishes thus expressed. The sleeper expresses many wishes symbol- ically and yet does not understand the meaning of those symbols. It sounds paradoxical, if not absurd, until we remember certain traditional customs which have been carefully preserved, although their meaning is absolutely unknown to the majority of people. One example will suffice: the rice and shoes which wed- ding guests in many parts of the world throw at the newly married couple when they depart on their honeymoon journey. The wedding guests are on that occasion ex- pressing openly a wish of which they are totally uncon- scious. They express that wish in a language which they do not understand. This is exactly what we do in our dreams. When we remember that, at all times and in all na- SYMBOLS, THE LANGUAGE OF THE DREAM 53 tlons, grains like rice, barley, wheat, etc., have sym- bolized the fructifying seed, and that shoes are a symbol of the female genitals, we understand at once the meaning of that symbolic custom. The wish thus expressed by the wedding guests is un- conscious, for if It were conscious, social niceties would not permit its public expression, nor would the perfectly proper, conservative girls who show their respect for that tradition, be guilty of such an indecent action, If they sus- pected the symbolic meaning of the rice and shoes. Symbolism may be made clear by a comparison of the various symbols with the Ideographs of the Chinese lan- guage. Every one of the characters found in the Chinese dictionary was, when it was first Invented, a graphic like- ness of the person, animal or object It represented. A drawing of a man meant man; that of a horse meant horse; the sun, moon, water, fire, were represented through recognizable drawings. The fanciful free hand of Innumerable penmen gradually transformed those rec- ognizable representations into unrecognizable characters. At the present day, an illiterate Chinaman looking at the signs that mean man, horse or sun, would never suspect their meaning, although an illiterate Chinaman would have, let us say five thousand years ago, recognized them at once. The human race undoubtedly knew In archaic times the exact meaning of symbols, but it has consciously forgot- ten it, while remembering It unconsciously. Symbols have In our life, and especially in our speech, an Importance which cannot be minimized, and which is not commonly realized. The language of all races is sym- bolical and man is constantly instituting, in his speech, 54 PSYCHOANALYSIS comparisons, for Instance, between certain aspects of na- ture and parts of the human body. White calls our at- tention to the fact that we speak of the mouth of a river, or a cave; of the lap, the bosom, the womb, the bowels of the earth; of the head of a lake; of a neck of land; of a chest of tools; of the foot of the mountains. We say that potatoes have eyes; that a color is warm, facts dry; that we scent trouble. . . . A mere dollar bill is charged with a wealth of symbol- ism. Without actual value in itself, however torn or soiled it may be, it represents a certain purchasing power, a certain amount of commercial safety based on the re- sources of a nation ruled by a solvent government which is pledged to redeem that piece of paper under certain conditions. A drop of water on the forehead of a child symbolizes the interminable story of Adam and Eve, the temptation, the original sin, purification, the properties of water as a cleansing fluid, etc. A triangle, or a snake biting its tail, symbolizes all the meditations of the fathers of the church touching the attributes of the divinity, eternity, a triple nature, eternal recurrence of the identical, etc. . . . Silberer and Jung have offered illuminating hypotheses that will lead us to a closer understanding of symbol for- mation. According to Silberer, symbols may originate when man tries to grasp mentally something which his intellect finds too remote; they may also originate when man's intellectual powers are reduced by sleep or mental dis- turbances. In other words, an inferior mind, or a mind inferior to a certain mental task, unable to use the lan- guage of science or philosophy, will resort to a symbol. SYMBOLS, THE LANGUAGE OF THE DREAM 55 Jung tells us what the symbol Is. To Jung the dream is the unconscious picture of the psychological condition of the individual In his waking state. It presents a sum- mary of the unconscious association material brought to- gether by a definite psychological situation. What Freud calls the repressed desire Is to Jung a means of expression. There are tasks which the individual must accomplish and every one of those tasks demands a solution. In many cases the solution is unknown and our consciousness tries to find it by comparing the present situation with some previous similar situation. For instance, Jung v/rites, when America was first discovered by the Spaniards, the Indians, who had never seen horses, took the mounts of the conquerors for huge pigs, pigs being the nearest ob- jects of comparison they could find. The apparently re- pressed thoughts contained In the dream are volitional tendencies which serve as language material for uncon^ sclous expression. The use of very ancient symbols, whose meaning has been forgotten by our conscious mind but seems clear to our unconscious. Is due, according to Jung, to the archaic nature of dream thinking. Our unconscious mind Is older than our conscious mind, and hence speaks, when necessary, an older language. In other words, thinking in symbols is infantile, ar- chaic, inferior thinking. It follows the line of least ef- fort. Instead of determining In scientific ways, by the ap- plication of logical, mental operations, the nature, the es- sence and the significance of a new phenomenon. It simply compares it with some already familiar phenomenon, much as that facile comparison may disregard certain es- sentials, and however Inaccurate It may be. ^6 PSYCHOANALYSIS Primitive people, unable or unwilling to seek the mean- ing of the thunder, the tides, the setting or rising of the sun and moon, of sleep and death, of all the forces, in a word, which influence mankind physically or mentally, personified them through gods or demons endowed with certain attributes, Jupiter, Neptune, Apollo, the devil. The devil, once a symbol of the dark forces which sway our minds, thus acquired gradually a fully built person- ality whose original meaning has been forgotten. For the superstitious the devil finally acquired an actual, al- most tangible existence. Then the anthropomorphic symbols became in their turn resymbolized through some representation of their powers. A certain attribute of the divinity was symbol- ized by Jesus, then Jesus was symbolized by the cross, and that symbol, wherever represented, is supposed to drive away the devil. In old cults, fertility was represented by a certain god; then one essential part of the god's body, his phallus, in turn symbolized the god himself and was carried through the fields in the spring to insure their fer- tility. Human sacrifices were replaced by a lamb or some other animal, symbolizing a human being; then the sym- bolic lamb was symbolized through a more or less recog- nizable image of the lamb made of dough, and later of clay. In China the animal victim was finally represented by a piece of paper stating the market value of the ani- mal which the devout worshipper " would have liked " to offer to the divinity. Symbols constituting a visual, pictorial language, are especially appropriate for use in dream thinking. As we set forth in the previous chapter, the dream work dram- atizes every thought, " movieizes " every conflict. As In SYMBOLS, THE LANGUAGE OF THE DREAM S7 " Everyman," the various impulses appear on the stage, transformed into men or women. Instead of someone's expatiating on virtue and vice, a woman called virtue and a woman called vice appear and hold a debate, not in words but in pantomime. Our hypocrisy, which is one of the avatars of the self- protection urge, finds immense advantages in that pic- torial representation, for it is in many cases very indefinite and lends itself to various interpretations. Anyone us- ing figures of speech may, in an emergency, seek shelter behind the very indefiniteness of those figures of speech. Sometimes the pictorial, symbolic representation of a de- sire may create in the sleeper a feeling which makes the concealment of the actual repressed desire even more complete. A young and chaste woman may dream that a horse is trampling her body. Called upon to prove that such a dream is not the fulfilment of a wish, she may offer as evidence the feeling of fear, anxiety and suffering at- tendant upon such an experience. Fear and anxiety, however, lose their painful meaning, and only become synonymous with great excitement, when we know that such a dream is the universal symbol of a sexual attack, a desire for which would be repressed in a woman of that type, and the visualization of which would be accompanied by ambivalent feelings of pleasure- pain, hope-fear. For a complete list of symbols I refer the reader to Freud's " Interpretation of Dreams," Jelliffe's " Practice of Psychoanalysis " and Silberer's work on " Symbolism and Mysticism." I shall only mention the most fre- quently encountered symbols and those, moreover, on 58 PSYCHOANALYSIS whose meaning all schools of analysis are practically agreed. The human body is generally indicated by a building, cabin, house or church. Degrees of nakedness corre- spond to the draperies, hangings, nets found In the build- ing. Parts that show through the draperies reveal peep- ing or exhibitionism tendencies. The male body is represented by fiat things, smooth walls over which one is climbing, the female body by set tables, walls with bal- conies, mounds, hills, a rolling landscape. The male organ can be symbolized by all sorts of elon- gated objects, sticks, tree-trunks, pillars, fruits or vege- tables of similar shape, women's hats, men's cravats, birds, fishes, toads, snakes, all sharp weapons, knives, daggers, etc. Feminine genitals are represented by boxes, caves, stoves, closets, windows, gardens, some- times by the figure 2. Potency and impotency symbols correspond to the erect or reclining position of the various male symbols. Moving vehicles which elude the dreamer indicate, ac- cording to the dreamer's sex, either the man's impotency or the woman's lack of gratification due to the man's im- potency or premature ejaculation. In dreams the father may be represented, according to the local form of government, by the highest person in authority, god, emperor, king, governor, mayor, or an old man. (Compare the slang expressions " governor," " old man.") The mother may be the empress, the queen, or a ship, a tree, a fountain. Birth symbols are concerned mostly with water, such as falling into the water or swimming out of It, saving people or animals, retrieving objects from a lake or the SYMBOLS, THE LANGUAGE OF THE DREAM 59 sea. Death wishes represent the unwelcome persons go- ing on journeys by rail or boat, vanishing into darkness. According to Stelcel, right and left have a symbolic meaning, as they have in spoken language, right indicat- ing righteousness, left indicating crime, right the normal way, left the perversion. Colors have a symbolic meaning. Tests made by Jas- trow in the United States and Wissler in Europe show that blue seems to wield the strongest attraction upon men and red upon women, making blue in some way a feminine color and red a masculine one. (Adam means red.) Arrah B. Evarts, who has compiled the sym- bolic meanings of colors among the various nations, says that color symbolism follows, the world over, fairly well marked lines. White is the color of the deity, of purity, of unity, of immortality. Black is the color of sin and death. Red the color of passion and of the crea- tive force. Blue is the color of coldness, impassivity, truth; green of activity and active reproduction; yellow, of religious aspirations and beneficence, also of decay; purple of controlled passion. Brown is not infrequently associated with feces. Color symbolism is constantly related to the symbolism of stones or metals. The language of gems and metals was carefully codified by the heraldists many years ago. We find the following associations in an almost invari- able order: silver-white-pearl; lead-black-diamond; iron- red-ruby; tin-blue-sapphire; copper-green-emerald; gold- yellow-topaz ; mercury-purple-amicthyst. Flowers also have their symbolism, corresponding to their color: the red rose is the flower of passion; white flowers indicate purity. In one case, however, the sym- 6o PSYCHOANALYSIS bolism seems to have been forgotten and given a new content. The orange blossoms of the bridal wreath once implied a wish for fecundity connected with the fact that the orange tree is the most fecund of all trees. Later their white petals were assumed to indicate the bride's virginity. Number symbolism is also curiously connected with color symbolism. White is the unity, black the zero. Red is the number three which symbolizes the male prin- ciple. Four is yellow and eight is brown. Colors are also associated with certain objects which they represent symbolically, red with fire, brown with smoke, yellow with the dog which in several mythologies was constantly associated with the divinities of death. Certain animals are universally associated in dreams with the sexual act, the horse (especially when trampling down a woman) and the dog (when trying to bite her). Language, with its highly symbolic trend, has in all races confirmed that association by speaking of the " animal " side of our nature. The sexual act is frequently represented by going up or down the stairs, dancing, swinging the arms, being rocked in a swing, in other words by many rhythmical motions of the body that imply advancing and retreating. Con- ception is symbolized by lily stems, hazel twigs, or by the eating of certain sorts of food, rice, apples, fish, or by some animal, generally a fish, entering the body. Dental dreams (falling teeth) may indicate onanism, homosexualism or pollution. Flying dreams are either sexual dreams or symbols of the world-old desire to es- cape the limitations of human nature and to acquire super- human power. CHAPTER VI THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE Fairy-tales, legends and religions are the dreams of the human race, expressing as they do the fulfilment of mankind's desire for happiness, and power or compensat- ing mankind for the many restrictions imposed upon it by man's own biological status. We must at the outset dissipate a misapprehension fos- tered by superficial observers. Attempts have been fre- quently made to characterise races or nations by their par- ticular folklore. A reasonable amount of unprejudiced reading, however, will soon convince us that it is a waste of time and effort to seek the " soul " of the Eskimo, of the Basuto, or of the Russian, in Eskimo, Basuto or Russian legends. Dwellers in the Arctic, in tropical lands and in the steppes of Eastern Europe, have been drawing their legends from one and the same common fund, the human fund. Geographical influences have in- troduced different sets of scenery into the folklore of the different races: An Eskimo cannot be expected to vis- ualize hot yellow sand plains in his dreams, nor can a Central African negro imagine snow igloos; an Oriental will, for certain definite reasons, dream of a magic carpet which transports him swiftly and comfortably over the deserts, while a muzhic may prefer to ride a gigantic ^rey wolf. Fairy-tales and legends can be divided, as dreams were, 6i 62 PSYCHOANALYSIS into wish fulfilment stories, compensation stories, anxiety stories, etc. We shall find in them the symbols which disguise the nakedness of our urges so that they may elude the censor. We shall find in them our pleasure and power urges engaged in the same struggle with our en- vironment. They will prove just as asocial as our dreams. Egotism and hedonism will always be found tri- umphant in the end. The hero of tales and legends has the same origin and the same biography the world over. He is invariably the child of distinguished parents, preferably of a king or a god. His birth is preceded by romantic obstacles to his par- ents' love, continence, barrenness, secret intercourse, a great deal of mystery. He is either unwelcome or illegit- imate or there is a prophecy announcing how powerful and dangerous he is to become; and his father generally wishes to get rid of him. He is generally exposed imme- diately after birth on the water in " a basket made of reeds." In inland and mountain regions he is exposed on barren cliffs. He is saved either by lowly people or helpful animals and suckled either by a humble woman or a she-wolf or goat. Afterwards he grows up, finds his real parents, often takes revenge on his father and not infrequently marries his mother, like Oedipus, Tristan, St. Gregory, Lohengrin, etc. He sometimes dies through the instrumentality of a traitor, Hagen, Judas, etc. The Oedipus legend is quite characteristic. LaTus, king of Thebes, was warned by an oracle that he would die at the hands of his son. When the child was born he fastened his ankles with a pin and gave him to a herdsman to be exposed. THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 63 The herdsman, ignorant of the oracle, saved the child and gave him to a Corinthian. Oedipus, brought up in Corinth, heard of the oracle, and fled from the man and woman he considered as his actual father and mother. In a narrow place in the road, he met an old man, Lai'us, disputed his right of way and killed him. Proceeding on his journey he reached Thebes, which was beset by the Sphinx. He answered the riddle of the Sphinx and thus destroyed the monster. Thebes rewarded him by giving him the hand of the widowed queen, Jocasta. When a pestilence visited the city, the oracle was consulted and it was discovered that Oedipus was the son of Lai'us and Jocasta; Jocasta hanged herself and Oedipus put out his eyes. I cite the legend at length for Freud has selected it to typify certain relations between child and parents which will be discussed in detail in Chapter XIV. Rivalry with the father, not necessarily for the moth- er's physical love, but for her affection and care, leads the boy to do away with his relationship to his father, either by imagining that he is not the real father, or by invent- ing a grudge which enables him to punish the father. Also in his egotism the child easily dreams of a wealthier, more brilliant and more powerful father, one who may help him to claim more respect or admiration. Greek mythology gives us many examples of that hos- tility between son and father. Ouranos tries to do away with his sons, the Titans. His son, Cronos, avenges him- self by castrating Ouranos. Cronos, in his turn, devours his children. One of them, Zeus, compels him to disgorge them and then cas- trates him. 64 PSYCHOANALYSIS More recent legends are less bloodthirsty and show us the hero getting rid of his father in more subtle ways. The story of Moses is the best known among the stories based upon a sexual indiscretion on the part of the mother, a young princess, as a rule, who exposes her child and then finds it again. Whatever changes of costume and scenery may have been introduced by geographical influences, local customs, etc., there is, strangely enough, one detail which is never lacking in that type of stories, be they Greek, Babylonian, Persian, Egyptian, Hebrew or Russian. The unwelcome child is placed in a basket of reeds, made waterproof with pitch or wax, and allowed to float away on a lake, a river or the sea. The oldest of those stories is that of King Sargon of Babylon, dating to 2800 B. c. An inscription on Sargon's tomb reads: " Sargon, the mighty king of x^gade, am I. My mother was a vestal; my father I knew not. In a hidden place my mother bore me. She laid me in a vessel made of reeds, closed the door with pitch and dropped me into the river which did not drown me. Akki, the water car- rier, lifted me up, raised me as his own son and made me his gardener. In my work I was beloved by Istar, be- came king and for 45 years held kingly sway. . . ." We have here the first version on record of the virgin birth, which was destined to have a very successful career. Among other well known heroes corresponding to the Sargon type we find: The Hebrew Moses, tlie Hindoo Kama, son of the Virgin Kunti and the Sun-God, the Greek Ion, ancestor of the lonians, son of Kreusa and Apollo, Telephos, son of the vestal Auge and the God THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 65 Heracles, the Roman Romulus and Remus, sons of the vestal Rhea Sylvia and the God Mars; Hercules, son of the virgin Alkmene and Jupiter, not to forget of course Jesus, son of Mary the Virgin. The feminine counterpart of the Oedipus story has been typified in psychoanalytic literature by the Electra story, in which Electra, daughter of Agamemnon, kills her mother to avenge her father's death. That conflict between two women is repeated in folklore by hundreds of varied Cinderella stories. The daughter is jealous of her mother and eliminates her by various subterfuges. One of them is the denial of the relationship and the transformation of the mother into a stepmother; another is the assumption of her death. The incest part is generally glossed over and rather hard to detect. One group of stories, found the world over, run as follows : A queen dies, leaving a daughter who resembles her strangely. One day the king notices that resemblance and wishes to marry his daughter. The daughter flees to some strange land, where she meets another old king, an exact replica of her own father, becomes his slave and then his wife or concubine. Sex and ego satisfaction are interestingly blended In Cinderella stories. They all emphasize the conflict between the young girl and her mother or stepmother, and all end with the humiliation of the mother and the other daughters and Cinderella's marriage to a beautiful prince. Local con- ditions have modified the story and sometimes through a certain displacement lay the stress on a new character, but the conflict is always the same and so is the solution. 66 PSYCHOANALYSIS Take for instance the Russian version of the Cinderella story, known as Jack Frost, and which seems to be only- one of the adventures of Ivan Moroz, the evil genius of the Russian winter: There Is the usual fairy-tale family, with a weak father, a wicked stepmother and three daughters. Two of the daughters are vain, arrogant creatures, the stepmother's own daughters. The third girl is the kind, simple, obedi- ent, overworked daughter of the father by his first wife. The henpecked husband is commanded one day to take his daughter into the snow-cov^ered woods and abandon her. Jack Frost comes jumping from tree to tree and asks her, "Are you warm, little maiden?" She is shivering but answers meekly, " I am warm. Father Frost." A few hours later he returns and asks her again whether she is warm and she, although numb, answers, " I am very warm. Father Frost." Later he returns and asks the same question, embracing her and calling her his bride. She, almost dead, answers again in the affirmative. Frost then covers her with rich furs and sends her to his beautiful palace. After this the wicked stepmother, hop- ing for a similar fate for her daughters, has them also exposed in the wood. They, however, rebuke Frost and complain of the cold, whereupon Frost chills them to death. This Is a dream of physical and egotist compensation, to which revenge Is added. The drudge becomes a princess and humiliates those who had until then enslaved her. A thousand compensation or consolation stories, found in folklore, correspond to many of our night dreams. Many are those in which a loving mother sees her dead] THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 67 child coming back to her and asking her not to weep any more. In the Japanese version, reported by Lafcadio Hearn, the mother's tears form in the other world a river which dead children could not ford; in the Teutonic version, recorded by Grimm, the mother's tears fall on the dead children's shroud and chill them. An interesting series of compensation stories is that of the young girl pursued by a frog, a snake, a bull, a lion, a dog or some other animal which begs for admission into her house, then her room and then her bed and which, as night falls, is transformed into a beautiful prince. Very often he specifies that she shall not light a lamp to look at him at night, for he might be then retransformed into his previous avatar- or disappear entirely. The tale of Eros and Psyche is the best known classical version of that story. These tales, some of them extremely old, give us quite a list of the animals which have from the infancy of the world been symbols of sexual attack. Some of the stories in which the prince Is disguised as a deformed beggar or a poor fiddler end with the mention of two more dream symbols which appear frequently in the visions of neurotics. The beggar or fiddler promises to reveal a secret to the girl, who sometimes is a princess, on condition that she lets him sleep in her room or in her bed. Guards holding torches and candles surround the bed. But the princess finally calls out to the guards to put down their swords and put out the lights, for the beggar " is now playing his fiddle in my garden." Those stories seem to be compensation stories for women compelled to marry some repulsive man who re- minds them of an animal. At night, however, provided 68 PSYCHOANALYSIS they do not lay eyes on him, he may provide them with as much physical satisfaction as though he were a beautiful prince. While the hero of fairy-tales is generally perfect phys- ically and seems to escape injuries in all encounters with beasts, giants or other warriors, there is quite a list of lame and defective heroes: Wotan, Orin and Poliphemus are one-eyed, Loki, Gunther and Wieland are lame, others are dumb or blind. Here again we can easily detect a compensation story made up for the special convenience of the story teller's host. The variations found in the many versions of the epics and legends, useless enumerations of " properties," like the Iliad's catalogue of ships, may have been introduced by the various " Homers " who, taking the place of news- papers and of traveling amusement companies, wandered from town to town and made it their business to propi- tiate their hosts. The blind, one-eyed or lame hero was probably intro- duced into the story to console some chief who had been maimed in battle and who would derive much consola- tion from the fact that some god or hero attained great- ness in spite of physical handicaps. A number of stories copy closely anxiety dreams. The hero is pursued by many horrible monsters, encounters more and more insurmountable obstacles, is not infre- quently dismembered, and dies, to be revived by a sor- cerer or a helpful animal, after which he wakes up say- ing, " What a long nap I have had ! " The story of the Fire Bird embodies practically all THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 69 these features, confirming Freud's 'Statement as to the sexual nature of anxiety dreams. The Tsarevitsh Ivan, youngest of three sons, watches over the apple-tree that bears gold apples and manages to seize one feather of the Fire Bird which every night comes and pecks the apples. His father promises him his empire if he catches the bird. Ivan starts out on his charger, who is at once devoured by the Grey Wolf. The wolf, however, takes pity on him and carries him to the magic garden in the 27th kingdom where the fire bird is kept in a gold cage. " Take the bird," the wolf says to him, " but touch not the cage or evil will befall thee." Ivan takes the bird without being detected, but when he goes back for the cage, watchmen appear, overpower him and lead him to the king's court. The king berates him and promises to forgive him if he goes into the 30th kingdom and steals for him the stallion with the gold mane. The wolf takes him there and warns him to take only the stallion but not to touch the gold halter. Ivan disobeys the wolf's orders once more and is captured. The king of the 30th kingdom promises to forgive him if he goes and steals for him the princess with the gold braid of hair. The wolf helps him once more. They bring the princess back, but Ivan has fallen in love with her. The wolf transforms himself into a perfect image of the princess which enables the real princess to escape on the stallion with the gold mane. Ivan exchanges the stallion for the Fire Bird and returns to his father's court. His wicked brothers, however, are lying in wait for him to slay him, and make away with the princess. The 70 PSYCHOANALYSIS Raven revives Ivan with the water of life and the water of death, and he reaches the court in time to prevent his brother from marrying the princess. Like night dreams of anxiety, these stories end with the dreamer's awakening, which saves him from the threatened danger. Anxiety in these stories, like anxiety in dreams, can well be explained through the Freudian theory, a struggle be- tween a wish and the censor, here represented by the wolf. Notice that the wish in this story is symbolized at first by a bird, next by a horse, and finally by the princess Ivan conquers for someone else, and then for himself. This bears out the observation made about dreams, that it is only one dream subject which occupies an entire night, the subject being treated in a more dis- guised way at the beginning of the night, in a more open and brutal way at the end of the night, when the sex or ego urge finally triumphs over the censor, and expresses wishes which were at first only brought to consciousness in the guise of symbols. The animals which appear in fairy-tales are not always sexual symbols. Many of them are helpful beasts point- ing to a strong strain of totemism. Totemism reduced to its essential elements may have been the childlike be- lief that, by entering into a one-sided agreement with certain animals, the tribe could be protected against the depredations or murderous acts of those animals. Old Hebrew tribes respected the wild boar, (which has led to the prohibition of eating pork), Mindoo tribes the wild bull, (which has brought about a like taboo concern- ing beef), some European tribes the dog (whose meat Asiatics eat without disgust) . THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 7 1 It may be that, in the infancy of the world, relations between men and the animals were quite different from what they are now. Children do not draw the same line grown-ups do be- tween themselves and animals. The child attributes full equality to animals. Neurotic children have been known to identify themselves with animals, for instance Little Arpad, analyzed by Ferenczi, who identified himself with chickens in the barnyard. There is indeed a curious un- derstanding between children and animals. Animals tol- erate more from children than from grown-ups. It Is the custom in many parts of Europe to entrust dangerous stallions or bulls to very young children who can lead them to cattle fairs without any danger. It may be that such a relationship in ages past has facilitated the process of the domestication of animals. In Greek mythology we find Zeus fed by goats, in Roman lore, Romulu's and Remus suckled by a she-wolf. A bitch suckled Cyrus, a doe fed Siegfried, a swan Lohen- grin, etc. . . . There is also a parallelism between childish theories of pregnancy and pregnancy theories presented in legends, and believed in, even to-day, by primitive races like the Australian bushmen, who do not seem, incredible as It may sound, to have observed a causal relation between cohabitation and motherhood. In certain Russian stories, a barren queen became a mother after eating boiled pike, a bitch that finished the bones bore puppies, a cow that was bespattered with the water in which the pike was boiled bore a calf, and the patch of ground on which the water was spilled bore marvelous flowers, vegetables and fruits. 7^ PSYCHOANALYSIS Many Chinese, Hindoo and Hebrew legends attribute to the dove, European legends to the stork, the arrival of a new child. When the Greek. Zeus, or Roman Jupiter, set out to seduce maidens he generally disguised himself as some animal, a swan when he approached Leda, a bull when he carried away Europa, and an eagle in other cases. Vegetal and animal symbolism, however, are absolutely alike in legends and dreams. Trees, red flowers, hazel twigs, mistletoe, lily-stems, poppy-seeds, rice, pomegran- ate, lions, wolves, frogs, bears, horses, have the same meaning in both, allowance being made of course for cli- matic conditions. The reasons why a lion replaces a polar bear are obvious. The snake seems to be the most universal symbol. The Oda story has its counterpart in the folklore of all nations. Oda's father goes to town and asks Oda what he shall bring to her. " Whatever runs under your carriage," she answers. The father brings home a snake. The snake asks to be let into Oda's room, then into Oda's bed and then becomes a prince. Variations which add details from the Electra or Cinderella stories show the sexual and egotistic thread running through them all, Jung, in his " Psychology of the Unconscious," has ap- plied this theory to mythology and primitive religions and proved that the S}Tnbol is one of the primary elements, one of the essential modes of thought of the human mind. The fact that symbols are not local nor restricted to one period of mankind's life has a profound significance, THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 73 knitting together, as it does, all the races mentally, much as their physical appearance may differ. While individual dreams seldom come true, the race's dreams seem to have been reaching realization in the course of the ages. The dream of friendly animals, which must be ex- tremely old, has come true through the domestication of many species. Inventions have followed the line drawn by legends. The dream of flying, of men using eagle-wings, witches riding broom-sticks, magic carpets, winged horses, is now a reality, the flying machine embodying many of these features. Magic hoods, which enabled men to dive under water or to affront fire-spitting dragons, have their counterpart in divers' bells and caissons and in gas-masks. Magic tubes, magic mirrors, magic horns which en- abled legendary heroes to see distant parts of the world or to communicate with them by means of speech have guided inventors' imaginations to the discovery of tele- scopes, telephones, etc. The strength-giving belts have enriched fakirs dealing in electric or magnetic belts. The magic wand and the magnetic needle are very closely related one to the other. Tonics based upon strychnine or alcohol are the semi- scientific descendants of the magic draughts of old. A searching study could prove that almost every inven- tion has been unconsciously inspired by some superstition of old. The ethics of legends are on a par with the ethics of dreams. 74 PSYCHOANALYSIS In them ego and sex seek their satisfaction and obtain it in the end, sometimes after a great deal of " anxiety," regardless of the cost. They are absolutely asocial. The hero must triumph and obtain the pleasure and power he craves. Every other interest pales in compar- ison with this. Patricide, incest, deception, foul play, dishonesty, cruelty, point to an archaic mankind in which adaptation to life in communities had not proceeded very far. As the last paragraph of " Judges " says, *' In those days there was no king and every man did that which was right in his eyes." Some of the legends evidently antedate any religion connected with moral sanctions, for remorse is absent and no punishment ever seems to befall the successful but unethical hero. It was only later that life in common began to develop tribal ethics such as are expressed in the Old Testament, but which have only a tribal meaning, the injunction " thou shalt not kill " applying only to members of the clan, as the relation of the expedition of Moses in the land of the Midianites proves abundantly. Any atrocity was permitted against strangers to the clan. Few are the legends, however, which show even that modification of the primal savage instincts. The fact that symbols, playing such an important part in those primitive productions of the human mind, seem to rule our mental functioning is worth pondering. Un- consciously we are primeval beasts and nothing animal is foreign to us. The sculptor who decorated the Basel cathedral with a statue of a beautiful woman, the reverse of which is covered with a wriggling mass of snakes. THE DREAMS OF THE HUMAN RACE 75 toads, lizards, and other slimy and creeping creatures, has well symbolized human nature. Civilization, the joint product of the ego or power urge and of the self-protection urge, has placed on the face of mankind a polite, self-controlled countenance. But back of that facade there are all the animal instincts, struggling for expression, and coming to the surface of the consciousness in the shape of those strange symbolic animals. However modern, angelic, and ethereal the face of the medal may be, the reverse is archaic and ani- mal. Toads and snakes will now and then swim to the surface of the pool and seek a breath of air. Individuals, nations or races dream, and therein find their greatest compensation for all the things they crave and cannot attain. The question might be raised as to whether legends are a healthy diet for young minds. Either legends are told children as they were conceived in archaic times and are thus a school of asocial, criminal, unethical, oversexed behavior. Or they are edited for school use and their vitality is removed. Even then it is doubtful whether children should be allowed to read them at an early age. Children identify themselves too easily with the heroes of fairy-tales, just as adults did in primitive races. To the child of active, inventive, aggressive temperament they may be an inspira- tion. To the dreamy child they may be an invitation to follow the line of least resistance, to dream about deeds instead of accomplishinfr them, to wait for miracles, fairy godmothers and the like. But fairy-tales are excellent reading for grown-ups with a sense of reality. CHAPTER VII THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS Freud is a great destroyer of shams, and a study of his works will introduce into the mental make-up of the coming generation a healthy, scientific scepticism. It will also compel psychologists to devote more time and atten- tion to the " microscopic " elements of the human mind. No bacillus is too small to be ignored by a scientist; no action was too insignificant to be ignored by Freud. Reviewing critically the thousand " insignificant " inci- dents of our daily life, and starting from the premise that there is no effect without cause, he has thrown much light upon happenings which scientists would consider as " trifling," " chance actions," " tricks of our memory," which sometimes cause us to ask, " Why did I do that? " "Why did he say that?" Our wondering is generally of short duration and after a remark such as " Strange, isn't it? " we generally forget the incident. Or rather we think we forget it, as the hypnotized sub- ject thinks he has forgotten the " trance " or as we im- agine we have forgotten our childhood and infancy ex- periences. In reality we probably never forget anything, but cer- tain memories held down at the " bottom " of our uncon- scious by some personal complex refuse to float to the surface when needed. Why do we " forget " names, Because, Freud an- 76 THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 77 swcrs, they have an unpleasant unconscious connotation. The name of a pleasant man, of a fascinating woman, will not have to be repeated to us. They will engrave them- selves instantly on our memory. The names of perfectly indifferent people will sink into our unconscious, or pass unnoticed for lack of attention. The names of those who directly or indirectly touch some painful complex in our mind are unlikely to be remembered. We forget easily the names of people bearing our name. As Freud has remarked, we cannot help experi- ence a feeling of impatience when meeting a stranger who bears our name. Our ego feels a certain loss when someone else assumes one of the elements of our personality, what to a certain extent has been an asset and over which we wish to retain a monopoly. It is very rarely that a man called Smith enters into very friendly relations with another Smith. While in Mexico City I became acquainted with a man bearing my family name, which is one of the rarest in existence. I was as unpleasantly affected at first as Freud was when a patient called S. Freud applied for treatment. I made several appointments with him which I never kept and finally mislaid his address. To this day, whenever I recollect my experiences in Mexico, I never think of that Tridon unless I make a special effort and at times, having made the experiment of closing my eyes and visualizing his appearance, I have almost entirely failed. When trying to visualise his printed name, I generally I see his first name, Leon, followed by the initial T. . . . I The rest of the surname always appears blurred and un- f readable. My unconscious evidently allows him to enjoy I his first name which constitutes no infringement of my 78 PSYCHOANALYSIS ego's pretensions and the initial T. which I share with miUions of others. When we know two men by the same name, let us say John Smith and George Smith, and George Smith has in some way incurred our enmity, we are likely to think of John Smith as John, not as Smith, and to forget at times John's family name, while being unable, of course, to forget his Christian name. Our unconscious hostility to a certain person may not be due to any inimical act done by that person. He may in some way recall to us some other person whom we are more justified in disliking. We often confess an unexplainable dislike- for a man or woman who is to all appearances amiable, honest, courteous, clever, and against whom we could not bring any charge of any kind. " There is something in him I don't like." That some- thing may be a mannerism, the color of his hair, the cut of his moustache, the sound of his voice, none of which may be in any way displeasing, but causes in us an uncon- scious association with some offensive person. As soon as we become conscious of that reminiscence, the embarrassment we felt in that person's presence passes away. Sudden, unexplainable lapses of memory, such as our inability to recall the name of a person we are closely and continually associated with, can be traced to the same cause. I once was walking along the street with a man, not only very well known to me, but with whom I had spent two hours that evening. We met another acquaintance of mine whom I had not THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 79 seen in several years. The newcomer's name came at once to my mind but I had for several minutes to forego presenting him to my other friend, as the other man's name, which I had used several times in the course of the evening, kept escaping me. Accustomed to analyze my own mental states rather rapidly in such cases, I came to the conclusion that I did not wish the first man to men- tion to the second certain activities in which I was en- gaged. My unconscious mind tried to avoid that even- tuality by withholding for a while the name of the man bearing my " secret." An attempt at postponing a certain disclosure is re- vealed by the form of narrative that begins with " Do you know? " " Do you know what I did? " " Do you know whom I met yesterday? " " Do you know what I am planning to do? " This preparation generally implies a slight fear of dis- approval by the person whom we address. We would prefer not to mention the incident but we choose to be the first to tell the story. While our mind is made up as to the necessity of the revelation, we unconsciously post- pone it for a few minutes by asking the other person to guess, which we know very well he cannot do. Physicians, artists and other professional people are apt to forget the names of other people in their profes- 'sion, owing to the monopolistic tendencies of their ego. Unconsciously, every physician considers every other physician as a competitor to be eliminated and so does every actor, speaker, scientist. I make it a practice always to carry with my lecture- notes a slip on which I have written the names of the best known psychoanalysts in this city. Otherwise I 8o PSYCHOANALYSIS might be as embarrassed as I was one night when the question was asked me by someone in the audience and for several seconds I was hard put to it to mention one name. Beware of people who cannot remember your name. Either they bear you a definite grudge, and it might be to your interest in certain cases to ascertain the motive for their attitude, or they are associating you uncon- sciously with some unpleasant experience of their life with which you had nothing to do. Name forgetting is contagious. Through a curious form of suggestion, the forgetting of a name by one of the interlocutors often causes the same amnesia in the other. I mentioned before that I had " forgotten " several engagements I made with the Mexican Tridon. If his name had been Smith or Brown, I would probably have kept them. The absurd but unconscious hostility induced by the identity of our names made me forget them. Darwin advises scientific workers to note carefully all the facts which contradict their pet theory. They can easily remember all the positive evidence in favor of it, but will as easily forget whatever is opposed to it. I have found it necessary to refer constantly to my notes in the cases of subjects who caused me much worry, and whom my memory of their symptoms caused me to catalogue too hastily. My notes have often revealed to me that my conclusions based on my memory of case de- tails were biased. I unconsciously " wished " the patient to belong to a certain category and " forgot " many symp- toms which absolutely prevented the fulfilment of that wish. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 8 1 Analysts must be on their guard against a tendency to ** resent " the patient's lack of response to certain experi- ments. They are likely to blame " unconsciously " the patient for the humiliation their ego suffers at his hands, for their unsuccessful struggle to penetrate his mind. The same process enables us to lose or mislay certain objects. Ernest Jones mentions somewhere that he is in the habit of mislaying his pipe whenever he begins to feel the effects of over-smoking. A few days later the pipe is generally found in some curious place where it does not belong, and where his unconscious cleverly prompted him to place it. Lawyers and physicians will testify to the readiness with which their clients and patients " forget " important details of their case. Many a would-be litigant, who at first glance had a " case," was discouraged by his at- torney from starting an action because some " insignifi- cant " detail he had not mentioned at first had escaped his mind. Many a patient, who " never was sick be- fore," ends by revealing to the physician some grave disease, the memory of which had been temporarily oblit- erated from his mind. We are more likely not to post a letter containing a check than one containing a bill, and we remember our credits more clearly than our debts. A lover who misses a tryst will be met with the per- fectly legitimate remark that a year before he would not have been guilty of such a sin of omission. It is rather risky for married people to celebrate too sentimentally certain anniversaries, for the time will come when one of them is bound to *' forget " and a row will ensue. 82 PSYCHOANALYSIS " As if you no longer loved me " should always be translated, " because you no longer love me." In life, as in dreams, " as if " generally means " because." In George Bernard Shaw's " Caesar and Cleopatra," Caesar, when leaving Egypt, is annoyed by the thought that there is something he has neglected to do. He finally recalls it : he forgot to take leave of Cleopatra. The military code draws no line between the neglect of duty due to intentional negligence and that due to for- getfulness. Absent-minded people generally excuse their lapses by pretending that " they are built that way." They forget many promises, disregard directions, and prove them- selves unreliable in many small things. Their uncon- scious motive, however, is a more or less complete dis- regard of others. Ferenczi states that his absent-mindedness disappeared when he began to practice psychoanalysis, and thereby was forced to turn his attention to peculiarities of his own ego. According to Jones, our neglect to do certain things expected of us betrays a sort of unconscious resentment. Thus a very busy man will " forget " to mail a letter en- trusted to him by his wife or to carry out her shopping orders. Freud noticed that the calls which he would forget to make in his day's rounds were mainly calls on free pa- tients or on colleagues. I avoid carefully public telephones which are not sup- plied with a slot system, for I seldom pay the operator after receiving the communication and have to be re- minded of my delinquency by the page on duty. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 83 We forget day after day to write letters likely to cause us some unpleasantness. When we say to people, " Don't ask me to do this, I might forget it," some un- conscious resistance makes us feel that we probably would forget it. Our unconscious is fully responsible for what is called our mistakes in speech or slips of the tongue. Many of those mistakes are a form of wish fulfilment, others a revelation of some obsession. When a prominent statesman, acting as chairman, rises to open the meeting and solemnly declares the meeting adjourned, we know what his unconscious fatigue is yearn- ing for. A woman who was being treated for syphilis declared that she had gone to the theater and seen " Officer 606." A floorwalker Vv^ho was eyeing a pretty woman, while I asked him to direct me to one of the departments, answered me : " This way. Madam ! " " I will play you by check," one of Dr. Brill's patients remarked when leaving his office. The patient never came back, but the check did. A physician said to a patient, " I hope you will not be able to leave your bed soon." A drug clerk, busy preparing a cathartic, said to a customer, " Wait just a movement." A conceited specialist said in the course of a lecture, " Those who understand the subject can be counted 0:1 one finger." When John is making love to Mary and " by mis- take " calls her Ethel, Mary has good reasons for sus- pecting the part played by Ethel in John's mind. Ernest Jones quotes a passage from Meredith's " The 84 PSYCHOANALYSIS Egoist " In which Clara, by a slip of the tongue, betrays her secret wish to be on a more intimate footing with Vernon Whitford. Speaking to a friend she says, " Tell Mr. Vernon . . . tell Mr. Whitford." After one of my lectures a young woman sent a written question to the platform, asking why she had called a man who was " almost a stranger " by his first name when he struck her accidentally. My answer was that she was in love with him. Two weeks later she married the " stran- ger." . . . Snobs cannot be trained to pronounce names correctly. This is their petty way of disparaging people they meet and of proclaiming their insignificance. Writing mistakes are due to the same causes. When a prominent republican statesman died recently, the news writer of a Western democratic paper committed the following blunder. " When doctors were summoned he was fortunately past help." " Owing to foreseen circumstances," a patient wrote me, " I cannot keep my appointment." The syllable un in smaller letters was then added, simply making the in- tention more obvious. "I committed this indiscretion 15 years ago," a woman wrote me, who wished to consult me on her case. The figure 5 and the letter s had been added afterward. Her unconscious was more honest than she. In the Wicked Bible, a curious edition printed in Lon- don in 1 63 1, the negation was left out of the seventh commandment. The printer was punished, but for the wrong reason. Another celebrated biblical misprint is one to be found THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 85 in the Bible of the Wolfenbuttel library in which a pas- sage of Genesis reads: " Und er soil dein Narr sein." (He shall be thy fool,") instead of " Er soil dein Herr sein" ("He shall be thy master"). Dr. Kempf's stenographer had been for several days making one curious mistake, omitting the letter " s." Her employer asked her, to her great dismay, whom she had decided to drop, whose name began with " s." She confessed that the offending friend's name was Smith. Freud reports the following incident concerning Dr. Brill: Although a teetotaler. Dr. Brill one night was compelled by courtesy to take a little wine. The next morning, writing to a patient called Ethel, he spelt her name Ethyl, the scientific name for common alcohol. Erroneous actions can be explained in the same way. Both Freud and Maeder noticed that when reaching the house 01 a patient, where they felt especially at home, they were apt to take out of their pocket the key to their own home and only upon reflection finally ring the bell. A number of accidents are not purely accidental. They are what Freud designates as " semi-intentional self-inflicted injuries." Many people have been known, after receiving bad news, perhaps hearing of the death of some dear person, to be the victims of some slight accident for which no other person and no external factor could be held re- sponsible, such as a fall. This may be a symbolical, un- conscious, attempt at suicide. In ancient times some self- inflicted physical injury was either a sign of mourning or, as practiced by the flagellants, an expression of piety and renunciation of the world. 86 PSYCHOANALYSIS In other cases a superstitious person or one tortured by his conscience may inflict upon himself this sort of punishment. Dr. J. E. G. Van Emden reports a case in which a woman injured herself semi-accidentally after an illegiti- mate operation. In certain cases some of these harmless accidents have been followed by an attack of neurosis, hysterical pains, etc., as though the patient were supplementing the atone- ment by a graver disturbance. Behind many accidental shootings of oneself or others, an analyst could easily find an unconscious death-wish. A young man seldom collides on the side-walk with a man or an old woman. We seldom lose anything we really care for acid when we do, some masochistic tendency can be proved to be at work in us. Freud tells of meeting a young married couple at a summer hotel, and the next morning when he came down stairs he was invited to take breakfast with them. He joined them a little later in the dining room and noticed that the only vacant chair at the table was covered by the man's large overcoat. Nor did the young husband notice that Freud was standing before the table, unable to take his seat. It was of course, the wife, who, having no reason for ob- jecting to the presence of another male, asked her hus- band to remove the obstruction. Very frequently people take the wrong train when bound for an unpleasant destination. Adler, Jung and Jones have shown that every " ob- THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EVERYDAY ACTIONS 87 sessive number " was determined very clearly by some complex. It has been observed that people suffering from depres- sion or suicidal obses-sions seldom wind up their watches and let the clocks in their houses stop, " as if " the future no longer counted for them. Pfister has collected several Interesting illustrations shov/ing that people never hum " aimless " tunes. The tune or the words to which it has been set are found to be in direct or indirect relation to the subject's thought at the time. The worried woman who, every time a noise is heard on the street, thinks that her child may have been run over, has visualized at some time what her life would be if the child in question had not been born or was out of the way. Such worries correspond closely to dreams of the death of near relatives. They reveal an unconscious wish and fulfil it partly. The struggle between ego and censor is severe, however, and translates itself, so to speak, into an anxiety day dream. Superstitious and worried people are almost always punishing themselves unconsciously for harm they wished to others. The superstitious fear retribution of some sort. According to Freud, " a large portion of the mytho- logical conception of the world which reaches into the mos-t modern religions is nothing but psychology projected into the outer world." The Roman who gave up an undertaking because he had stumbled on the threshold when leaving his house, was unconsciously right, although rationally wrong. The 88 PSYCHOANALYSIS fact of stumbling could not bring about the failure of his undertaking. Inner doubts, however, may have caused that chance action, and those inner doubts can be considered as a potent cause of failure. Thus we see that egotistic, jealous or hostile thoughts repressed by the censor often utilize the path of chance or faulty actions to affirm their existence. Our uncon- scious hypocrisy thus allows many unethical feelings to live on and to manifest themselves; thus it secures com- pensation for the repression to which those impulses have been submitted by civilization, education and the self- protection urge. CHAPTER VIII FEMINISM AND RADICALISM When we study feminism and radicalism, it Is Adler rather than Freud who will supply us with our vocabulary. For both movements are manifestations of the ego urge, and a compensation for restrictions imposed on one sex by the other sex, on the multitude by ruling groups. There may be feminists and radicals who dream of more favorable conditions for the satisfaction of their sexual urge in a society based upon the absolute equality of men and women, or under a social system guarantee- ing equal opportunities for all classes of the population, but that consideration Is In the main quite secondary, and neither movement can be said to constitute an outcrop- ping of the sex urge or to provide a compensation for Its repression. Both movements have been given a tremendous impetus by the war. Women have proved to themselves and to the anti-feminists that they could undertake almost every one of the tasks which until then had been considered as especially masculine. A woman discharged diplomatic duties at the Brest-LItovsk parleys. Roszika Schwimmer was appointed minister plenipotentiary for the Hun- garian republic. Women have driven steam ploughs and flying machines; they have proved efficient ammunition workers; they have " manned " trenches, and taken part in charges under Col. Botshkareva. Workingmen have discovered, by watching the num- 89 90 PSYCHOANALYSIS berless mistakes committed by professional statesmen in every one of the war emergencies, that direct govern- ment by the masses would not have been more inefficient than government by the ruling financial and Industrial interests. Women know now they can do anything as well as men would. Workingmen know that employers can do things as badly as they would themselves. The ego of the women and of the masses cannot help deriving powerful encouragement from such facts. Modern society is, generally speaking, established upon a belief in masculine superiority. That belief may have had its origin In the infantile observations as to the physical differences between sexes, the male child feeling himself superior, on account of his exterior genitals, to the female child, who might for the same reason feel a certain inferiority. It may have been due to the fact that the female, being periodically placed in a condition of physical inferiority by menstruation, pregnancy and nursing, was gradually reduced to submission by the physically fitter males, al- though in some parts of the world, matriarchy has sub- sisted in a modified form. That physical superiority soon had as its corollary as- sumed intellectual superiority. The dogma of masculine domination has found accept- ance with the majority of men (although its vociferous proclamation by some of them betrays to the analyst a lingering doubt and the need of reinforcing a shaky be- lief), and by the parasitic type of women known as anti- feminists. FEMINISM AND RADICALISM 9 1 The anti-feminist is in reality a more grasping and ambitious woman than the feminist. She is not really satisfied with equality. She aims at securing domination over man through pure sexual fascination. She seeks to secure all the satisfaction her ego craves without shoul- dering any of the burdens which equality would entail. By pretending that she is what guileless males wish her to be, she enjoys the privileges which helpless, dependent infants are granted by their immediate family circle. By alienating some of her freedom she secures an infinite amount of power. By accepting a few conventional re- strictions she demands infinite allowances for a thousand capricious details of behavior. The assumption of masculine superiority in primitive, uncivilized man was a practical device for securing more work from the female. In modern woman it implies a disreputable sophistry and mental dishonesty. The parasitic woman, who is satisfied with power easily secured and has no creative tendency, may reconcile her- self easily to the masculine domination. The active, intelligent, energetic, positive type, whose self-assertive ego is not satisfied, except through positive achievement, chafes under the many restraints which that domination imposes upon her. These restraints may drive many of them into acts of an unconscious nature, which, while not pathologically very abnormal, have a neurotic tinge, and a sexual aspect. Some women revolt so completely against the social subjection to which their union with a male would subject them that their sexual powers decline or apparently die out and they make frigid wives. Some develop neurotic attacks before the time set for 92 PSYCHOANALYSIS their marriage, take refuge In a neurosis against an act which they both desire and fear and join the ranks of old maids. Some display a capricious or harsh behavior toward the husband or lover as a protection against their own feel- ings which, if shown too openly, might fortify his domina- tion. Some select a partner who is socially, physically or In- tellectually below their social level (heiresses marrying chauffeurs) which enables them to remain the influential if not dominant member of the family. Some resort to homosexualism to emancipate them- selves from man in sexual matters. In certain social gatherings the egotistical female easily becomes a kill-joy when her superiority is endangered by the presence of other attractive women. When sur- rounded by men, or when the other women present are old and unattractive, she is generally a fascinating con- versationalist. When made conscious of her inferiority, she is not unlikely to bring about some unpleasant incident or to develop some hysterical sickness. Some women show a marked fondness for mannish ap- parel, masculine traits, short hair, smoking, brusque man- ners. The late Dr. Mary Walker was a typical illus- tration of the masculine protest in public life. The conception of what is essentially feminine or mas- culine is rather hazy. In Samson's days or at the time of the Merovingian kings, the virile character was pro- claimed by a flowing mane, and even to this day the judges in English courts wear long, curly wigs. Chinese women wear trousers, Scotch warriors and some Greek FEMINISM AND RADICALISM 93 shepherds wear petticoats. Even modesty, which is con- sidered as a typically feminine virtue, has been observed by analysts to be characteristic of neurotics of the under- sexed or oversexed kind, the former being conscious of that inferiority, and avoiding all occasions which might lead them to reveal the embarrassing fact, the latter avoiding also all occasions in which they might become victims of their temperament. Here we have that constant combination of the ego and sex urges which neither orthodox Freudism nor ortho- dox Adlerism could explain satisfactorily. The masculine domination, pleasing as it may be to some males of the domineering type and giving them some dubious assurance as to the females' sexual behavior, re- sults in many forms of waste. Much light work could be done by women, thus re- lieving men for more strenuous occupation (jury duty being one of the most obvious examples). Women over 45 who have raised their children and established their household on a well systematized basis which practically requires no more planning or personal intervention, could, with the knowledge of psychology they gathered while educating their children, the practi- cal information acquired while attending to household financing and provisioning, render many public services where their specialized knowledge would be of high value. Instead of that they dribble their time away sponsoring more or less emotional movements, taking part in club squabbles, or, in country districts, trying hundreds of fake cures for imaginary or hysterical ailments. In several states teachers are not allowed to marry and 94 PSYCHOANALYSIS only abnormal old maids, ignorant of life, are allowed to spread their distorted views among the growing gen- eration. The mediocre woman, without visible ability, is forced by the masculine domination into the great dependent, parasitic class of " mere wives and mothers," in which class they linger for many years after they have ceased to bear children or to satisfy their husband's desire for affection and sexual intercourse. The masculine domination, harmful to the female, is supposed to have been an unmixed blessing for the male. It has, on the contrary, created a most unpleasant state of affairs. It has created the superstition of woman, the enigma, the sphinx or the vampire. The average man has been taught that woman is " dif- ferent." Being different, she cannot be expected to act under given circumstances as a man would act under the same circumstances. " lou can't tell what a woman is likely to do." If she does act as a man would, she falls under the suspicion of being unnatural or mannish. To the weak, unintelligent male, woman is a mysterious being, half goddess, half idiot, of whom he is uncon- sciously afraid. We always grow afraid of the gods we create. This relation is disastrous in a good many ways. Afraid of woman, the weak man who wants to sustain the masculine domination employs neurotic ways of sub- duing her, of humiliating her. The nagging husband, the man who surrounds his wife with very inferior companions, the pudic husband who tries to keep her in ignorance about sexual matters, the FEMINISM AND RADICALISM 95 onanist, the homosexual, are indirect victims of the super- stition of masculine superiority of which they are the warmest champions. To many a weak, inferior man, the assumption of the mysterious character of woman is a positive boon, a plausible excuse for many failures. " A fool there was," and he would have probably been a failure under any circumstances. Given an irresistible woman, for whose " wiles " an ordinary man is " no match," and the de- feated ego, unable to enjoy success, can enjoy sympathy. Literature has reflected that curious phobia. Eve was a convenient excuse for Adam's downfall. The Iliad is built upon the same assumption, of ruin being brought about by woman; also the Arabian nights, and numberless poems and plays. " Seek the woman " ex- presses that phobia in popular form. Baudelaire has very naively given it expression in that passage in which he says, " I cannot think of a beautiful woman without imagining at the same time some misfortune connected with her." Schopenhauer's and Strindberg's obsessional ideas concerning women were undoubtedly manifesta- tions of a feeling of inferiority which, by reviling woman, sought to explain away every defeat in the " unequal struggle " with the sphinx-woman. The masculine domination is responsible for the large class of " disappointed " husbands and wives. The gul- lible male who expects to find in his wife the mysterious creature popularized by plays and fiction and to derive from her the constant stimulation such a type is supposed to provide, cannot live long with her without discovering that she is quite as commonplace as he is himself and quite as human. 96 PSYCHOANALYSIS The gullible female who expects to lean against a pillar of moral and physical strength, to receive from her hus- band wise and infallible guidance in all human affairs, soon finds out that her hero is as uninteresting and as unromantic as she herself is, and that his superiority has to be constantly re-affirmed through many arbitrary ac- tions, high-handed judgments, terrorism and nagging. As Freud would put it, these people have been living a'bove their means psychologically. They have been drawing checks upon a bank in which they themselves deposited nothing, but in which they assumed without any evidence that their partner had deposited large sums. Their disappointment is a clever compensation sought by their ego which is unable in any other way to demon- strate its positive superiority. " I have been disap- pointed by my wife or my husband," really means, " My wife or my husband does not come up to me." The disappointed partner ostensibly deplores his mate's inferiority, but secretly enjoys it, as it gives him or her a certain security. The stupid, bourgeois wife is in great demand among males who are not positively sure of their superiority, and the " tame " husband, easily con- trolled and unattractive to other females, is constantly proclaimed by the average woman a very desirable part- ner. The spread of feminism may remove the many pho- bias which render the relations between man and woman always difficult and some times frankly unpleasant. Man the tyrant, and woman the sphinx, real enough types ( for many men strive to be tyrannical and many women affect to be capricious and erratic, In order to live FEMINISM AND RADICALISM 97 up to some novel, play or film), would fchen be relegated to the realm of old-fashioned fiction. The ego urge which drives human beings constantly to seek a new and higher level, to better or, at least, to modify their environment in a way which bears the stamp of their personality, is the most potent driving power back of the vague tendency called radicalism. I call it vague, for its meaning has been changing with every century, and so has its object. He who once revolted against the authority of gods represented by a priestly hierarchy of som,e sort, was tor- tured or put to death as a dangerous, subversive charac- ter. The libertarians of the i8th century who claimed little more than freedom of thought in a few religious and secular matters, were already characterised as wild-eyed radicals. In 1825 several hundred people were put to death in Russia for having read at secret gatherings the writings of the French Encyclopaedists. During the French revolution of 1789, people risked their lives to set up the autocracy of a wealthy bourgeosle Instead of the autocracy of a king and a few noble fam- ilies. Ultra-radical in their days, those people would appear in our day hopelessly conservative. . . . But they all had a dream of a new social order, giving them more freedom, by which they meant, consciously or unconsciously, more food and power. And each succes- sive revolution meant that a larger number of egoes had dreams of power and wrested it from the smaller num- ber of egoes detaining it at the time. And the radicals of all times were opposed by the enor- 98 PSYCHOANALYSIS - mous sluggish masses of people without imagination, suffering from neophobia, the fear of new things, be- cause, unable to dream, they could not Imagine adapting themselves to a new order of things. If the established Institutions were suddenly removed, the dreamless people, whose ego finds a simple satisfac- tion in^ social prestige, the ownership of a house or a motor car, membership in a certain club or a certain church would feel as helpless as the bather unable to swim, if the rope were suddenly removed. If all those little things which are the symbols of their power and of their superiority over other people less favored than they, should disappear, they would feel as distressed as though they stood naked in public. Those people are useful members of the body social because, for their sake, every Innovation, social, political and otherwise, has to be tested thoroughly and made plausible, thus eliminating wild experiments likely to bring ruin to the race. They are likely, howev^er, to call the radical a neurotic because he insists on substituting the electric locomotive for the stage coach and the wireless for the marathon runner. Some form of " radicalism " moved primitive man to be dissatisfied with his purely vegetative, animal, exist- ence, and to modify his environment by adorning his cave, his person, and taming wild animals. Later some primitive radical, dissatisfied with man's physical limitations and his short span of life, created gods with unlimited power and duration, with whom he established some relationship, through sexual relations between gods and the daughters of men. FEMINISM AND RADICALISM 99 Later, jealous of the gods' power, he invested power- ful members of the tribe with some of that power. Gradually, as egoes multiplied, chiefs were compelled to share their power and food supply with smaller chief- tains, these, in turn, with their more powerful subjects. Finally, in more recent times, the multitude insisted on putting its stamp of approval on rulers chosen from time to time. And thus republics were born. When every ego in the multitude, however, desired to express its direct opinion, the representative who prom- ised to do good things for his constituency began to yield the stage to the representative appointed by the crowd to do a certain thing. And thus theoretical bolshevism came into being. Justice and brotherhood are convenient words used by radicals who are as ashamed as conservatives to con- fess their ego cravings. The radical who worries lest his special social nostrum should not be tried out during his life-time is as gro- tesque a figure as the conservative who believes that the progress of the world toward its unknown goal can be stopped at one certain point. Both wish to stop the world's progress, though at dif- ferent levels. Political creeds are determined by the degree of sadism or masochism entering into the ego formula. The sadist ego, willing to inflict harm upon numbers of people, provided he has the approval of very large numbers of influential persons, is likely to be a conserva- tive. The masochist who is willing to submit to a certain amount of suffering, provided his ego can realize its 100 PSYCHOANALYSIS dreams, who is satisfied with the approval of cgoes of his type, and is wilHng to take suffering and the martyrdom his behavior often impHes as a reward for his activity, is likely to join the ranks of the radicals. Industrial developments of the present day are directly responsible for acute outbreaks of the ego urge in the shape of radical agitation. There is nothing in the daily life of a modern factory-worker which gives adequate out- let for his egotism and craving for personal achieve- ment. The shoemaker of 500 years ago who performed personally every task connected with the making of foot- gear, from the preparation of a hide to taking measure- ments, fitting the leather to the actual foot-shapes of his customers, could display his personality, his originality, his caprice even, in creating personal footwear such as we see in museums. A completed pair of shoes was a per- sonal evidence of his creative ability, and flattered his pride accordingly. The men and women employed in modern shoe fac- tories, who simply release a hundred times a day one lever, stopping or starting some electrically driven ma- chine-tool, perform, day after day, monotonous tasks, of a fragmentary character. Not one of them ever sees more than a part of a shoe. Those who assemble the parts had no share in the producing of those parts. Those who do not turn to creative art of some sort in order to compensate for that repression of their ego urge, are bound to be dissatisfied with their work, with the environment which gives them that work, with the social system under which that work is performed, and nothing but a direct share in the shaping of their political and economic destiny will satisfy them. FEMINISM AND RADICALISM lOI We have reached politically the age of direct govern- ment, direct nomination, direct primaries, direct action. And here again the war may wield a far-reaching in- fluence. V That dissatisfaction was either restrained by accepted ethical principles (although I. W. W. leaders have been wont to state that " we shall do those things because we can") or it expressed itself in ways according with the general ethical views of the community. To quote from Freud's " Reflections on War and Death ": " The individual citizen can prove with dismay that the State forbids him to do wrong, not because it wishes to do away with wrongdoing, but because it wishes to monopolize it. ... A State at war makes use of every act of violence, that would dishonor the individual. It employs not only permissible cunning but conscious lies and intentional deception against the enemy, . . . de- mands the utmost obedience and sacrifice of its citizens, but at the same time, it treats them like children through an excess of secrecy and a censorship of news and ex- pression of opinion which render the minds of those who are thus intellectually repressed defenseless against every unfavorable situation and every wild rumor. It absolves itself from guaranties and treaties by which it was bound to other states, and makes unabashed confession of Its greed and aspiration to power." As the expression " social war " is found more and more frequently in the literature of the various radical movements, one can see what developments may be ex- pected from the constant growth of the ego urge among the masses, and the ethical corruption due to the influ- ence of the war's " emergency practices." " Thou shalt 102 FSYCHOANALYSIS not kill " has been brought back to the meaning it really had in the Old Testament, where that prohibition ap- plied solely to members of the tribe, any atrocity being lawful when perpetrated on a member of a different tribe. See " Numbers " and " Chronicles," and the treatment meted out to the Midianites by Moses' armies. The social war means, in terms stripped of any orna- ments, that a growing number of egoes is going to con- tend for the ownership of the earth with a diminishing number of egoes. Upon the willingness of the minority to resign itself to unavoidable defeat or its attempt to postpone the fatal hour by resorting to unethical methods of warfare, whose efficiency is tremendous but only temporary, will depend the questions whether the growth of the ego urge at the present juncture will mean evolution or revolution. Whenever discussing the role which the ego plays in social disturbances we must bear in mind that the ego urge was in the beginning a nutrition urge and that scar- city of food has always led to upheavals. In times of famine the nutrition-ego urge asserts its predominance over the sex urge and the safety urge. When the individual is hungry, sex prostitutes itself to insure the food supply, and the safety urge allows the individual to risk physical injury in order to prevent the organism's death through starvation. CHAPTER IX THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT Before Freud's days, dreams were pure nonsense, and so was nonsense. A few essays had been written on the psychology of laughter, but no philosopher or scientist had assumed the apparently frivolous task of collecting jokes and meditating seriously upon them. Wit, as analyzed by Freud, may still be the mere foam and froth of life. But even as the bubbles that rise to the surface of sparkling wine start from the very bottom of the glass, wit bubbles originate at the unconscious bot- tom of our mind.-*^ Like every messenger from our unconscious, wit will be found to have a tremendous import. We shall see that it is indeed one of life's safety valves, one of the " nor- mal " forms of " compensation." The unconscious character of wit is amply demon- strated by the fact that wit is not constantly at our com- mand. We cannot, or, at least very few of us can, take up pen and ink and " write jokes " as we would write a letter or a magazine article. We cannot even, unless we have made special prepara- tions, in the way of mnemotechnic drill, recall at will a string of jokes when we need them for the sake of social jollity. In fact, while waiting for our turn to entertain our friends with jokes, we are apt to forget entirely, sometimes for a long while, the witticism we were plan- ning to offer as our contribution. 103 I04 PSYCHOANALYSIS On the other hand, a syllable, a sound, a gesture, a peal of laughter, may suddenly conjure up to our mem- ory a story or a number of stories, the telling of which is usually preceded by the remark, " That reminds me of ..." A whole class of wit products, puns, are nothing but sound associations, involuntary and unconscious. As a further proof of the unconscious origin of wit, we may adduce Freud's comparison between the technique of dreams and the technique of wit. There is a striking parallelism between wit-work and dream-work, both presenting the same phenomena of con- densation, displacement, indirect expression, representa- tion through the opposite, etc. As examples of wit condensation, Freud mentions, among others, the name Cleopold, by which the late king of Belgium, Leopold, became known in the smart circles of Europe when he began to pay attentions to the French dancer, Cleo. De Quincey, to intimate that people in their old age are overfond of telling anecdotes, wrote that old folks were apt to fall into " anecdotage." Holidays during which much alcohol is consumed are designated by a writer as *' alcoholidays." Wit makes efficient use of the same material to express various meanings: " Is your wife entertaining this win- ter?" "Not very," the husband answered. A sign seen in many small stores reads: "In God we trust. Everybody else pays cash." Displacement, in wit as in dreams, stars an insignifi- cant detail at the expense of the main thought: " That fire escape makes your boarding house quite safe." THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT I05 " Yes," the landlady answered, " when all the boarders are paid up." Representation through the opposite may be illustrated by the following joke : *' Can you call up ghosts? " someone asked an amateur conjurer. " I can, but they won't come," Indirect expression is the technical wit-means employed In the remark attributed to an art critic who saw the portraits of two money-kings occupying a panel at an art exhibition : " Where is Jesus? " Two important questions must be answered: Why do we make up jokes, and why do we laugh at them? We may answer the first by saying that wit is a short cut to freedom from many restrictions. Children discover at an early age that they can do many forbidden things if they succeed in making their parents or teachers laugh. The parent, however severe, who can be compelled to smile, is no longer to be feared as a disciplinarian. Likewise, nonsense frees us from many restrictions and enables us to speak out " in jest " many a truth which otherwise would cause much resent ment on the part of the hearers. College rituals, song and yells, defend the freedom of nonconformist yout against institutional regulations and academic " dignity. Hazing provides an outlet for whatever infantile sadis; or exhibitionism is still unrepressed in the adolescent. " Only a child," or " boys will be boys," or " student pranks " are the common excuses invoked by actors ar beholders in such cases. In the same fashion do we dismiss the licentious c Io6 PSYCHOANALYSIS lawless acts we perform in our sleeping state: " only a dfeam." Between dreams and wit there is, however, a capital difference: wit is a social phenomenon, dreams are es- sentially asocial. The dreamer creates his own world, where he rules almost autocratically; he occupies the center of the stage and has no regard for any other human being playing a part in the dream phantasy. Wit, on the contrary, depends for its life on a favorable and friendly environment. A joke at the expense of Christian Science would fall flat if told before an audience of Christian Scientists and would only bring embarrassment to the jokester. The jokester needs the support of his audience. Certain jokes would be absolutely colorless if they were not spoken before a large crowd. A " conver- sationalist " once convulsed a large house by simply saying to every girl in the show: " Good morning. Madam, how do you do it? " Only In a vast agglomeration of human beings would the various suggestions with which that phrase was charged conjure enough associations to con- u<5titute wit. a One joke may cause great merriment when spoken be- ore a crowd of men, and seem stupid and offensive should vi refined woman be present. te Among common men and women, wit becomes less and se^ss subtle and descends to lower and lower intellectual E^vels. A group of drunkards may consider any filthy emark as extremely humorous. ca In other words, the quality of a joke depends on the umber of people to whom it gives pleasure, i. e., relief sarom certain restrictions, and this is why we very hypo- THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT I07 critically pretend to scorn puns and to consider them as a"n unworthy display of humor. The pun is indeed a childlike form of wit, for punning is the favorite pastime of all infants who are learning to speak. They take words, names, sounds and repeat them, modifying them all the while and enjoying the in- voluntary associations which the newly formed words bring forth. The pun is an involuntary and very per- sonal form of sound association. It does not bring re- lief to anyone unless there is, by chance, among the hearers one person reacting exactly like the punster to the syllable that inspires the pun. Deriving no pleasure from anyone else's puns, we affect to despise them, al- though we show partiality for our own. The higher the intelligence of the hearers, the more subtle the wit-work will have to be. With people sub- jected to many mental inhibitions, one of the most suc- cessful forms of wit will be that which will give them freedom from what dominates their thinking, logic. Faulty logic, which in the wit flash may be overlooked, is the disguise which wit assumes to overcome the resistance of the inner or outer censors. A remark attributed to Wendell Phillips may be of- fered as an illustration of faulty logic producing humor- ous results. Asked by a clergyman why he did not go right into the heart of the south to save negroes from slavery, the abolitionist, in his turn, asked the clergyman why in his search for souls to save he did not go straight to hell. The comparison between hell and the south could not stand any stern logical test. As in dreams, the sex and the ego element dominate I08 PSYCHOANALYSIS wit in almost equal proportion. No witticism is entirely free from one or the other; in other words, no witticism is entirely harmless. The aggressive joke, which Freud considers as the last vestige of the physical encounter of old, forbidden by civilization, is the least harmless of all the jokes traceable to the ego urge's attempt at expression. The ego dis- parages the adversary and the self-protection urge uses the infantile stratagem of smile or laughter to disarm the adversary while propitiating the audience. Catty wit is another form of ego compensation. " That woman reminds me of a Greek Venus," a man said to another woman. " She can't be as old as that," the clever cat answered. *' This car will take you to Albany in less than three hours," the automobile salesman said enthusiastically. " But what would I do in Albany? " the sour customer answered. Self-criticism jokes are generally inspired by our self- protection urge. By taking the initiative, the jokester robs a possible adversary of his best weapon. He gives the impression of being indifferent to ridicule. The re- mark, " I always appreciate a joke, even when it is at my expense," is profoundly hypocritical and is generally made by very touchy persons, anxious to ward off either a humorous attack or its repetition. Compare Jewish jokes made up by Jewish wits and those due to a gentile's sense of humor, and the difference will strike you. The former are defence jokes, alluding gently to certain idiosyncrasies of which, in some cases, Jews may be proud; the latter are aggressive, disparaging jokes, charged with a humiliating intent. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT IO9 The majority of disparaging witticisms are directed against the people or things of which we are afraid, or which law or custom compel us to respect. Humorous stories concerned with famous or powerful men are al- ways intensely popular, for they bring exceptional char- acters down to our level. The burlesque theatre never fails to present some pompous personage who falls head- long into a pail of flour paste, a clergyman discovered in an undignified situation, or a policeman outwitted by thieves or street gamins. In many cases, wit employs a subterfuge recalling closely the symbols used in dreams by the urges intent on foiling the censor. A careful man, who did not dare to show any open sympathy for labor, could very properly relate the old story of the engineer who was blown to a point five miles from the factory by a boiler explosion and who, after his return, was docked for being absent without leave. A respectable husband and father can not with pro- priety disapprove of the restrictions imposed upon a man's freedom by matrimonial regulations, but he may tell a joke like the following, or smile when it is told in his presence: "What is life with several wives?" — "Polyga- mous." — "With two wives?" — "Bigamous." — " With one wife? " — " Monotonous." Freud has analyzed at length the various Jewish jokes centering around fthe more or less ridiculous figure of the marriage broker, and which can be, generally speaking, reduced to the following formula : The young man desires beauty and wealth, the young woman is poor and presents no PSYCHOANALYSIS many unpleasant physical characteristics, and when the young man remonstrates with the agent, the latter reveals some more horrible details about the bride to be. " She seems lame and partly blind," the suitor whispers. " You can talk louder. She is deaf too," the agent remarks. TKat kind of story is a convenient, safe cover for some- thing less " harmless." Over the head of the stupid marriage agent whom it seems to ridicule, it actually strikes at the sordid marriage customs of certain bour- geois circles; by a roundabout way, it manages to attain its goal without offending the hearers. Like the story in which the schoolboy is the apparently ridiculous figure and excites laughter for not knowing the difference between monogamous and monotonous, it useg " displacement " for safety's sake. The mother-in-law joke, which occupies such a prom- inent place in the wit of all nations, assumes a vntai significance when we read a chapter of Freud's book on " Totem and Taboo." There seems to have been something peculiar and dis- tressing in all ages of mankind in the relation between a woman and her daughter's husband. Almost all primi- tive races have accumulated an incredible amount of legis- lation to regulate these relations, which they treat with tragic earnestness. Some tribes make it a misdemeanor for a man to address his wife's mother, or, in certain cases, to be alone with her or simply to lay eyes on her. The relation is ambivalent, that Is, made up in equal amounts of attraction and repulsion on both sides. A woman is apt to dislike the man who takes her daughter away from her, thus abolishing a part of her domination THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT III over her children. The man may also resent whatever authority his mother-in-law retains over his wife. On the other hand we see grounds for the old incest fear which obsesses all primitive races and has led to strict exogamy in every nation. A man has a tendency to select his wife according to unconscious standards estab- lished by the memory of his mother. His wife's mother is bound therefore to present many of the traits which consciously or unconsciously attracted him to his wife. Furthermore, the mother-in-law, who more or less un- consciously identifies herself with her daughter, be it from love or from egotism or both, may become unconsciously infatuated with her son-in-law. This is the more credible when we remember the Jung experiments proving the strange similarity between mother and daughter reactions (see Chapter XVIII, pages 207, 599). Consciously or unconsciously the mother-in-law will re- act against her son-in-law's attraction. Throup:h over- compensation for her unconscious love for him, she as- sumes toward him a strongly antagonistic attitude. For many hostile feelings are merely the result of the stubborn repression of some strong attraction. The mother-in-law joke, therefore, has its origin in one of the most important psycho-biological tendencies of the race, voices In a disguised way the world-old fear of the wife's mother and advances a thousand imaginary, hypocritical reasons for avoiding her or displaying hos- tility tov/ard her. Every one of those reasons is a cover-Idea for the real sexual preoccupation which is the basis of the problem. It will be noticed that the relation of man to his son's 112 PSYCHOANALYSIS wife has proved infinitely simpler to the various races, and that, as a consequence, we find only an insignificant number of statutes regulating it and of jokes alluding to it, compared to the amount of legal and humorous litera- ture relative to the mother-in-law. Obscene wit, Freud states, is an intentional attempt at bringing sexual facts into prominence. This defini- tion would equally apply to a lecture on sexual physiology, were it not for a very important difference between the two performances. A medical lecture is not directed against anybody, while obscene wit has a demonstrable aggressive intent. The obscene joke is directed against a particular person whom it attempts to arouse sexually. The attempt may fail and the listener may react only with shame or anger, which, after all, is an admission of the joke's intent and baffled effect. The obscene joke is, according to Freud, comparable to an attempt at seduction. If the attempt succeeds, obscene language ceases. The loving speech of courtship, which verges continu- ally on mild indecency, becomes purged of its suggestive element as soon as a definite agreement has been reached by the two partners. Risky allusions and shady stories become obsolete when a man and a woman become inti- mate. The obscene witticism is then a mere form of compensation for repressed or unsatisfied sexual desires. Like all other sexual manifestations of the pleasure urge, it is strongly inhibited by inner and outer censors, self- protection urge and custom. The lower the intelligence of the listeners, the more THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT II3 bold and direct obscenity is likely to be. The higher their intelligence, and the more developed and potent the censors are, the more obstacles obscene wit encounters and the more carefully it must disguise itself. A point of refinement may be reached at which it is only the very keen, well informed and sophisticated listener who is able to detect the actual meaning of an obscene joke. The cynical joke, based upon strivings for expression of the non-sexual elements of the urges, needs no such complete disguise. It is more direct, only crediting someone else with certain sayings of a cynical nature, which, however, cast no reflection on the cynic's intelli- gence, as the " marriage agent " joke or the "monoton- ous " joke cast on the Intelligence of the marriage agent or of the school boy. The cynical joke brings out fQjxibly the fact that the human organism Is probably meant to seek constantly some form of enjoyment, a fact which more or less hypocritical custom with its sadistic- masochistic perversions has come to deny emphatically. A frank denial of the hierarchy of pleasures and a re- gression to the line of least effort In the quest of hedonist gratification Is voiced by this story, typical of all cynical wit : A drug addict was losing his hearing. Following his physician's orders he abstained for a while, improved rapidly, but had a sudden relapse. " Of course," he told his physician, " I could hear better after giving up dope, but nothing I heard sounded as good as the dope makes me feel." The last question to be settled is, " Why do we laugh?" I 14 PSYCHOANALYSIS Laughter Is partly an unconscious reflex action. I say unconscious because in many cases the wit-work conceals its mechanism so cleverly that we do not realize at once what actually makes us laugh. The facial expression of the laughing person suggests that of the satisfied nursling leaving the mother's breast. In both cases the contour of the open mouth and the lines of the face present striking similarities. Laughter would then be an infantile symptom of grati- fication. We also notice that the creator or teller of jokes often retains a serious countenance while his hearers may be bursting with laughter. At times, however, physical sug- gestion-imitation may lead him to join in the merriment, but his laughter in this case is not brought forth by his joke but by his listeners' facial expression. The reason is not far to seek.HKVhile performing the various operations constituting the wit-work, the uncon- scious gradually relieves itself of several repressions; when the finished product of the wit-work rises to con- sciousness, the relief is complete. Much energy has been expended in the struggle between the urges striving for ex- pression and the censor holding them back and only allow- ing them to find an outlet when they have been clothed in a harmless form. That expenditure of energy prevents the conscious feel- ing of relief from being loud or boisterous. 4r~ The listener, on the other hand, has spent no energy in any mental struggle. Wit brings to him, not a pro- gressive relief, like the slow unwinding of a clock's spring, but a sudden relief, like the release of the spring in an air-gun. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT II5 The smile of the joke-teller resembles the almost im- noticeable ticking of a clock, while the laughter of the listener resembles the report of a gun. When a person laughs at his own jokes, it may be as- sumed that the jokes he tells and enjoys so keenly touch very personal complexes and give him a much needed un- conscious relief. In certain cases that laughter may be- tray self-consciousness and nervousness over the effect which the story may have upon the audience. In both cases, however, it reveals personal-effect elements. Very naturally, mental, intellectual and physical parity and harmony between joker and listener will add power to the joke, for the repressions will be much alike in both and will seek more or less identical forms of relief. Jokes told by a person of inferior mentality are not likely to amuse a keen-minded person. Brevity is the soul of wit, and slow people are likely to tell slow jokes. As the effect of a joke depends upon the suddenness with which it releases some tense, coiled spring in our mind, the quick joke which takes one by surprise is more effective than the long drawn out witticism whose point we see long before the story is told and which relieves us grad- ually without causing the exciting and enjoyable explosion whose outward symptom is laughter. A distinction has frequently been made between the comic and wit on the ground that the comic causes merri- ment by making us witness or visualize an absurd expendi- ture of energy, while the very economy of energy prac- ticed by sharp, quick wit makes us laugh. The distinc- tion is quite arbitrary. For quick wit suddenly releases in us a large amount of pent up and suppressed energy, mental and physical. The antics of a clown give us a Il6 PSYCHOANALYSIS vicarious relief for the energy which the inhibitions of modern life no longer allow adults to let out in simple, direct, childlike ways. Besides the relief thus obtained through watching comic actions, there is a distinct satisfaction derived by our ego from the feeling that the comic person is ridiculous and hence inferior to us, much as we may unconsciously crave to imitate him. For when we are convulsed with laughter at the sight of some grotesque gesticulation, we probably imitate in a symbolic, censored way that gesticulation ; then our sides may hurt as though we had been romping about or indulg- ing in some kind of childish play. Wit, then, appears to us a valuable mental safety-valve. It supplements dreams in our waking states and may be a better adji^vant to mental and physical health than dreams, for it never lends itself (if we disregard the con- vulsive laughter of hysterics and idiots) to anxiety de- velopments. Wit throws a reasonable doubt upon the power or the reality of the repressions it seeks to destroy. As many mental disturbances are due to a conflict between a severe censor and the urges, between moral and social inhibitions and unconscious desires, wit may in many cases prevent the growth of phobias. It does not remove the inhibitions but it softens the tragic aspect they assume in certain neurotics. Language expresses that valuable property of wit. We must be taken literally when we say that all that saved some person in a crisis or an emergency was his " sense of humor." To unimaginative, primitive minds, it may be that the THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WIT II7 comic, and especially the burlesque spectacle has a thera- peutic value which is not to be scorned. Vaudeville au- diences, made up as they are of simple, conventional folks, In whom self-consciousness is a painful trait, and for whom a thousand little repressions represent " manners " or distinction, probably derive a great amount of un- conscious relief by listening to the stupid forms of witti- cism which season vaudeville numbers, or witnessing horse-play which they crave to Indulge In but could not without losing caste In their social stratum. Puritans have, with their complete lack of psychologi- cal Insight, dwelt profusely on the coarse passions which such spectacles may arouse. The coarse passions, how- ever, are there already pent up in the unconscious and struggling for some normal or abnormal expression. Their release through vicarious indulgence can only pre- vent them from breaking through abnormally should they find a weak point In the mental or physical structure of the Individual. Aggressive wit is certainly a form of relief preferable to physical encounter. Obscene wit, until some other more acceptable form of relief Is found for certain sex- ual desires, will be a welcome substitute for a sexual at- tack. Wit taking legal restrictions as Its aim may be a valuable preventive of unlawful violence. Wit, being a product of the unconscious, gives us a good deal of Information on the repressions under which the jokester Is smarting. An exaggerated fondness for puns and jokes may be a symptom of a slight neurotic trend. It has been known to accompany an incipient dissociation of the personality. I I 8 PSYCHOANALYSIS Obscene jokes reveal a tendency to exhibitionism; ag- gression jokes sadism; self-inflicted jokes, masochism, or a morbid fear of criticism; cynical jokes a craving for selfish hedonism. By their jokes ye shall know them. CHAPTER X THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT In his study of Leonardo da Vinci, Freud attempted to explain the artistic temperament or the desire for artistic creation through a process which he calls " sub- limation." The word was unfortunate and should not be granted a place in the vocabulary of psychoanalysis. Sublimation, in the Freudian sense, has nothing in com- mon with what chemists call sublimation. It is rather related to the adjective " sublime," and would then sug- gest a distinction between lower and higher activities. No scientist could accept such a distinction, least of all Freud. By " sublimation," we hasten to say, Freud sim- ply meant the deflecting of the sexual impulse into other channels, into business or professional activities, toward " other aims of greater value, which are not sexual." This explanation fails to explain why the " sublima- tion " in certain cases happens to be specifically of an artistic type. ' The idea of sublimation, however, was seized upon eagerly by many men of the Zurich school who advise patients of the " oversexed " type to " sublimate " their desire through religious meditations and to direct it to- ward " ideal " objects. This is a relapse into old-fashioned ethics which al- ways states what the non-existent human being called " the average man " should do, instead of determining 119 I20 PSYCHOANALYSIS what a particular person with definite characteristics can actually do. This attitude makes the study of artistic phenomena as hopeless as the attitude assumed a century ago by a certain naturalist who discovered noble traits in some animals, ignoble traits in others. We derive little enlightenment on the origin of the artistic impulse from Jung's remarks. Jung finds the beginnings of art in animals, " when a part of the energy required in the production of eggs and semen was used to create devices which would attract the female and protect the young." This is anthropomorphism at its worst, the old-fash- ioned Darwinism whose childishness has been exposed by writers like V. L. Kellogg. The devices which Darwin considered as meant to at- tract the female have such a meaning only in man's eyes and their absolute lack of individuality makes them as l'( tie related to art as the absorption of food and the elim- i:iation of waste products by the organism. The first convincing hypothesis touching the origin of the work of art has been presented by Adler in his mono- graph on " Organ Inferiority." At the root of artistic accomplishment there is, ac- cording to him, an unconscious desire to compensate for some organic inferiority. " Organs of slight inferiority," he says, " develop greater functional capacity than normal organs. . . . The cause lies in the compulsion of a con- stant training in the capacity for adaptation and varia- bility often adhering to inferior organs and surely also in the development of the related nervous and psychic complexes heightened by inner attention and mental con- centration upon the weaker organ. ... A particular in- THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT 121 terest seeks to protect the Inferior organ and endeavors to ward off harm by constant attention; and the psyche, on a small scale, perhaps, gives the Impulse to awaken the attention, to Increase It and connect it vnth that organ." From this point of view, we may understand the nature of genius and genlus-like activities, and the conditions which often lay the foundations for the choice of a pro- fession. Adler calls our attention to the degenerative disposition of Mozart's ears, to Beethoven's otosclerosis, to the fact that Bruckner's ears were stigmatized by a mole, that Demosthenes suffered in infancy from an Impediment in his speech, that Moses, orator and leader of men, was said to have a " heavy tongue," that Schumann's psychose was characterised by auditory hallucinations. Adler states that he has noticed Innumerable tokens of degeneration, childish defects, and reflex anomalies, in singers, speakers and actors, from which he concludes that originally some inferiority of their respiratory appa- ratus led them to seek compensation In the related psychic field. In other words, the individual with a weak throat will unconsciously seek all the activities which are apt to de- velop his throat, his power of speech and tone-production. The man with weak eye-sight will pay more attention to colors than the man with normal vision. The man with ear-trouble will develop more accuracy In his perception of sounds and constantly seek the kind of sound stimuli which are more varied in pitch, for Instance, the enorm- ous variety of tones which one can hear by attending a concert. We can accept Adler's thesis that one's choice of artis- 122 PSYCHOANALYSIS tic or professional activities is determined by some organ inferiority, perhaps imaginary, and at times psycliically induced; we can see how attempted compe*isation for a physical defect or its attempted correction would create a liking for certain activities favorable to those processes; but the problem of creation remains unsolved. Adier's thesis justifies us in giving art a place among the forms of normal compensation. And here we are re- minded of Jung's striking statement that in every neurotic he has discovered unconscious artistic ability. Is the neurosis not due to the fact that in such cases the psychic impulse arising from physical need, organ in- feriority and life pressure, has met with unserviceable brain material? We are coming to something more definite. Instead of a sentimental sublimation of the sex instinct being at the root of artistic creation, we behold one of na- ture's processes, whereby inferior material is being re- claimed and made useful and efficient in a roundabout way. Even psychologists of the old school, like Janet, could not help observing and mentioning the neurotic's sense of inferiority, which Janet called a sense of incomplete- ness and which sought compensation in neurotic imagin- ings. Art, then, becomes one great form of compensation, not only for the artist but for all the similarly orientated minds, supplementing beautifully the universal consola- tion of mankind, the dream; for it enables us to share the relief afforded by someone else's dreams, provided they are made concrete by the pen, the chisel or the brush. Here we find an alluring explanation of the relation- THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT 1 23 ship often proclaimed in a disparaging way, by the nar- row-minded and the non-creative, between the artist and the neurotic or the psychotic. The psychotic creates a world of his own in which he attempts to live and which is peopled with fantastic figures. The artist also creates a world of his own, peopled with figures he hallucinates. But there the resemblance ends. The psychotic, after jumping off the edge of the real world, is unable to climb back from the moon in which he landed. The artist retains his freedom of motion and returns to earth whenever the call of necessity is heard. The neurotic has exchanged a distressing feeling for perhaps a distressing pain. The psychotic has exchanged it for a sometimes distressing vision, distressing because his attempt to impose it upon the real world causes him much annoyance. The artist has exchanged his feeling of incompleteness for an absorbingly interesting vision, which he makes ac- cessible to the whole world. Neurotic and psychotic are asocial; the artist, so far as the result of his dreams is concerned, is the most social of human beings. The artist throughout the ages has been criticized for his moral laxity and his egotism. These two charges must be investigated very carefully, for the second will bring us closer to a solution of the problem of artistic creation. The sexual life of the artist has been the subject of much stupid discussion and of much hypocritical rant. It has been pointed out many times that men and women of genius do not always display in tHeir private life the purity of v/hich their detractors claim to be exemplars. 1 24 PSYCHOANALYSIS As a matter of fact, the life of most artists is, and ow- ing to the physical prerequisites of their art, must be, as regular as that of the average shop-keeper. . The shop- keeper, however, being unknown two blocks away from his shop or his residence, is freer from exposure. The artist, being a more or less public character, attracts more attention to himself and any woman in whose company he happens to be, and becomes, therefore, a better butt for gossip. The thousands of prostitutes who ply their trade along the streets of our cities are patronized by hundreds of thousands of insignificant persons claiming no artistic distinction. The attachments formed by artists, on the other hand, are, according to their biographies, with women and men of a radically different type. The aspersions cast upon the morals of artists reveal more envy than anger. And indeed, society makes con- stant allowances for artists who go beyond the limita- tions of the world and allow us to follow them a part of the way. Art enables the layman to peep into god-land, fairy-land, hero-land, and to consort with men and women who are absolutely removed from our sphere of activity, to revel in combinations of colors, shapes and sounds of which our everyday life is devoid. Not that I would deny the importance of sex in art. Sex colors all art, be it lyric poetry, sculpture or music, and artistic eroticism has played a thousand times the part of a substitute for the gratification the artist failed to secure in his everyday life; but the creative urge is not made up solely of sublimated sexual elements. Sex might explain Dreiser's " Genius," but not Coii- rad's " Shadow Line." THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT 1 25 If there were nothing but sex, nothing but hedonist promptings in art, the artist would not feel the pressing need of communicating his dreams to the outside world. Day dreams would supply him with all the substitute erotic enjoyment he craved. We would not see " strug- gling artists " bearing bravely many privations for the sake of realizing their ideal. We come now to the second charge which has been brought against artists: they are egotistical, self-centered, bumptious, vain, etc. It is precisely this egotism, this vanity, which compels them to endure hardships in order to reproduce their dreams on paper or canvas, in prose, verse, musical nota- tion, clay or marble. The artist insists that the world must know of his dreams; his egotism is not satisfied with the creation of a phantasy. This phantasy must be revealed to other hu- man beings. His dreams fail to satisfy 'him until they become, so to speak, the mould for the world's dreams, until his dreaming dominates the world's dreaming. Then, and then only, is his feeling of inferiority entirely removed. He is not as selfish as the short psychology of the average man pretends him to be. He unconsciously masters one defect but he is not satisfied with his own con- sciousness of the attained mastery. The world must put the stamp of its approval on the performance. It is the applause of a larger or smaller number of kindred spirits (according to the development of his egotism), which gives the artist the assurance that he is no longer inferior o • incomplete, that he is a superior, a complete man. The neurotic acquires that certainty in ways which are 126 PSYCHOANALYSIS generally noxious to himself and his environment; the psychotic does not need the assurance; the artist acquires the certainty of his superiority by enriching his world and the world of others. It has often been said by anti-feminists that woman has no creative genius. In reality women hav'e v/ritten, painted and composed very little. There are for that fact many reasons besides the pretended inferiority of women. "The male domination upon which civilization has been based for centuries has emphasized the sensuous rather than the powerful side in woman's nature, the woman's sex rather than her ego. With many careers closed to her, in which she might give expression to her power urge, woman has been com- pelled to resort to cunning in order to compensate for the repression of her vitality and to obtain by stealth what she cannot conquer in open competition. That form of activity is not conducive to any form of creation. Nor is the exhibitionism which sexual competition makes imperative, and which sexual attraction compels males to tolerate and encourage, a source of creative activ- ity. The human being who spends hours in adorning himself has little mental power left for positive accom- plishment of a social character. Thus the desire for artistic creation has been dulled in women, and its expression made difficult, if not, in certain cases, impossible. The main reason for women's failure to accomplish much in the field of art is the fact that physically she Is essentially creative. Delage's and Loeb's experiments are likely to assign to man a more and more insignificant THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT 1 27 role in procreation, and it looks as though the legislation defining the father's rights over the children was inspired by an unconscious desire to overcompensate his actual in- significance. Woman and creation are almost inter- changeable terms, especially to students of parthenogene- sis. Bearing children and leading them gradually to a point of satisfactory adaptation to life's needs is creative work by excellence which satisfies not only the primal in- stinct of reproduction, but also, when the experiment is successful, the ego of the mother and increases her sense of worthiness and power. By comparison with the pro- duction of a strong and healthy child, full of romantic pos- sibilities, mere artistic creation pales considerably. Barring exceptions, it is the sterile v/oman who con- tributes to the world's artistic fund and achieves fame. A fertile woman may attain eminence as a singer or in- strumental performer, in which case she is, according to Adler, seeking compensation for some inferiority, but she is not likely to become known as the author of artistic works. CHAPTER XI THE URGES AND LITERATURE We shall waste no time trying to determine which of the arts came first into existence, for all of them have followed parallel lines of development and reached the same stages almost simultaneously. We shall begin with literature, then consider music, and finally the pictorial arts, as forms of expression and compensation. The leg- ends upon which we touched in Chapter VI were probably the first form of literature, spoken and written. At an early period, man discovered his physical limitations and began to dream of overcoming them, personally or vi- cariously. Sea and land monsters plagued him and he crystallized his dreams of peace with those dangerous be- ings in legends of helpful animals, of herculean individ- uals who arose and slew those monsters. Man noticed that the span of his life was short, and he began to dream of anthropomorphic figures that would not die, that nothing could harm, that would occupy infinite space, and possess infinite strength. Stories of gods were imagined, and some of these gods would mingle now and then with the daughters of men and impart to men their immortality. Super-cavemen arose and it became the desire of each little caveman to be as powerful as the chief bully of the herd. The doings of the little bullies were told, by them- 128 THE URGES AND LITERATURE 1 29 selves or their retainers and embellished through retell- ing. And wanderers began to tell those stories, adding to them deeds they would have liked to perform them- selves, adding deeds which the bully at whose " court " they were stopping was craving to perform. Folklore, religious legends, epics were born in that way, all voicing man's desire for power, sex gratification and security from death. After the first religions were established, compensating man for his physical shortcomings, after the first terrors died out, mankind began to indulge in mental hedonism. The second period of literature is replete with stories of adventure, some of them tragic and some of them comic, but all of them entertaining. Legends transformed themselves into fiction, religious rituals into dramatic works, which at times utilized the legends and incidents from old epic stories. The infant having satisfied a number of elementary cravings, and feeling relieved from various fears, wanted to play. I might select the Greek tragedies and comedies as characteristic of that period. Character was absent. Actors wearing an anonymous mask whose mouth had a downward curve or an upward curve according to the tragic or comic import of their words, visualized for the public a number of incidents. The incident alone counted as a source of thrills, and caused laughter or tears. The birth of character in fiction and in plays marks the third stage of development in literature. The feeling that by being itself, a well difl^erentiated ego presents great interest, the desire to create another world peopled with creatures different from those within our ken, a crav- ing to emulate the creative divinity, was to bring forth lit- I30 PSYCHOANALYSIS erary works which, for convenience and brevity's sake, I might symbolize by Shakespeare's plays. The incident, while apparently important, is only a means of revela- tion for some of the dramatis personae. The incident is easily forgotten, but the protagonist lingers in one's memory. Oedipus was essentially a man, any man who, cursed by fate, killed his father, married his mother and then blinded himself. If we should forget the incidents In Oedipus' career we would be at a loss to define him. On the other hand, Hamlet or King Lear represents to us, not a succession of incidents, but a combination of psychic elements which precedes incident and survives incident, although incident gives those elements an opportunity to make themselves more easily observable. Character-drawing enriched the world by so many more new types which did not exist before the artist created them. Many of these types are used by the writer for the vicarious fulfillment of his wishes. Shakespeare, denied the love of Mary FItton and W. H., and wooing them In vain, creates Ophelia, who loves Hamlet, and dies when unable to secure Hamlet's love. Turgenief, enslaved by an uninteresting, domestic singer of little intellectuality, delineated the fascinating figures of ardent. Intellectual young women, who offer their love to young revolutionists, sometimes forcing themselves into their arms. Artsibashef, weak and consumptive, created the athletic Sanin, feared of all males and irresistible to all females. Dostoyevsky, the selfish epileptic, created a lovable epileptic, Mishkin, and many christ-like, self-sacrificing heroes, whom he craved to emulate and might have emu- THE URGES AND LITERATURE I3I lated If his passion for gambling had not compelled him to be mean and sordid. The fourth period in literature shows us the ego reali- zation as the goal of all writers. In that fourth period we may notice a gradual growth of the ego. The realistic school was often charged by critics with being too Impersonal, too photographic. Anyone familiar with the workings of the unconscious will smile at the mention of those two adjectives. No product of the mind can be impersonal. Slavishly as we may reproduce In words a landscape or describe a type from life, we shall only see the details which our uncon- scious allows us to see; to some other details our uncon- scious shall make us totally blind. I once studied the re- actions of a young writer and discovered that the word " tree " was connected in his unconscious with a fearful childhood Impression which had created a strong complex. No word association came to the surface of his mind when the word " tree " was spoken to him In the course of the usual test. An investigation of his writings showed that he had only mentioned the word " tree " twice in his stories, and on both occasions trees played the part of a dark or sinister element in the landscape. Someone said very truly that a painting was a landscape seen through a temperament. A so-called realistic novel only contains what the writer's unconscious allows it to contain. Not satisfied with incident and character. Indirect me- diums of self-expression, writers have gradually dis- carded them, feeling that what might befall someone else, be it even the child of their Imagination, and the feelings of some hero of their creating, Is far from being as interesting as they themselves, their life and their psy- 132 PSYCHOANALYSIS chology. This is the essence of lyric poetry: "I, the wonderful I, did a certain thing which must be wonderful because I did it, and the reader cannot help being inter- ested in that wonderful fact." '* My case is an unusual one," every neurotic patient says on his first call and thereupon proceeds to recite a story described a hundred times in psychoanalytic litera- ture. Memoirs, autobiographical or semi-autobiographical fiction, all highly colored by the author's unconscious crav- ings and terribly distorted by his complexes, Rousseau's, Tolstoy's self-revelations, novels like " The Dangerous Age," "Jean Christophe," "II Piacere," Whitman's poems, correspond to this the latest development of the ego in letters. While literature has gone through the four periods I have mentioned, I must not give the impression that the beginning of one period sounded the deathknell of the preceding period. The extreme ego tendency had Its first manifestation the first time the first lover sang of his love. In modern times, Lafontalne and Krylof have given us animal fables, a genre dating back to the infancy of the world. Even in our days people are writing epic poems. But the fable, the story of adventure and the epic are only feeble survivals furnishing the proper men- tal diet to human beings whose mentality has lingered in the stage corresponding to those literary forms. The joy we derive from literature depends Indeed upon our mental stage of development and upon the unconscious cravings of our life. Infantile readers will find delight in the mysterious, the fantastic, the childlike, in thrilling incident; the more THE URGES AND LITERATURE 133 developed will be pleased by character-drawing, which supplements their world and supplies them with vicarious enjoyment of psychological complications. Finally, the reader with a well-developed ego will seek eagerly the self-revelation which characterises modern production in letters. This is the secret of the appeal which lyrics have always 'had for the sentimental (that is, the unadapted, who are trying to live in a softer, kinder, world) . The use of the " I " enables them to substitute themselves for the au- thor. The selfish, asocial hedonism of poetry transports us into a world close enough to us for convenience and far removed enough to allay our unconscious craving for safety. Poetry, after all, corresponds in literature to the sym- bolic disguise which the safety urge places upon our night visions. Like wit, it often disguises its object, which is mainly sexual gratification. The Society for the Prevention of Vice may seize " The Genius " or " Hagar Revelly," but the versified form has protected Swinburne's, Amy Low- ell's and, at least in our days, Whitman's poems. Poetry seems to perpetuate in the most advanced de- velopment of the ego an infantile element, rhythm, a purely physical element corresponding to the constant ac- tions of the living body, and rhyme, which is after all an infantile product, a play on sounds, a pun. Psychiatrists have often pointed out that psychotics of an infantile type delight in speaking in rhyme, in using " clang " associa- tions. For an explanation of composition in literature, as well as in the other arts, I refer the reader to the chapter on 134 PSYCHOANALYSIS Wit. Composition is nothing but economy of material and suddenness of effect, the gathering together of many stimuh which bring forth a sudden rehef in the reader, listener or beholder. Therein resides the main difference between a dramatic story told by an inexperienced reporter and the same story as told by a great artist. A newspaper account of an accident is long-drawn, dwells on too many trivial details and therefore effects in the reader a gradual and conse- quently unpleasurable discharge of pent-up feelings. An artist, by cleverly selecting the essentials of the story, would produce in the reader a thrill, which is analogous to a sudden electric discharge; and so does a good head- line writer. The theatre has lagged far behind all the other arts. Being thoroughly commercialized and relying upon the favor of the ticket-buying multitude, it must direct its appeal to the large class of people who stand mentally a little below the average and who, lacking imagination, must have every action presented to them obviously, after the archaic, primitive fashion of our night dreams. Fiction and poetry presuppose a certain imaginative cre- ation on the part of the reader. The lazy-minded and the overactive workers who seek relaxation enjoy the theatre immensely. The former gratify vicariously the desire for action which their low sensory-motor capacity cannot realize; the latter, generally of a matter-of-fact disposition, are being " shown " life problems on the stage and are not compelled to use their thinking appa- ratus in visualising them. Exhibitionist actors without intellectual capacity, who create nothing, simply speak and act someone's drama THE URGES AND LITERATURE I35 for those who cannot create their own dreams and must hire others to do their dreaming. The stage will probably never progress unless some synchronization of the phonograph and the cinemato- graph enables producers to give to small audiences such as enjoy literature of the fourth period, advanced plays whose cost of production is practically trifling. We can realize how primitive painting, sculpture, po- etry and the novel would be if their production depended on large mobs coming to museums or to reading-rooms where a large admission fee was charged. For the psychological action which theatrical per- formances exert upon audiences I refer the reader to the analytical studies of various modern plays published by Jelliffe. The puritanical attitude which manifests itself in Anglo- Saxon communities toward certain forms of art and is especially noticeable in the literary field receives at Freud's hands an interesting interpretation. He has no- ticed that many sexual perverts, struggling against their perversion, are apt to engage In public activities tending to a repression of all the possible sex manifestations. Fearful of being tempted, they seek to remove all temp- tation. What to them, however, constitutes a strong temptation is seldom a powerful stimulus for any normal subject. The puritan overcompensates his Inferiority by the standing he acquires in a gullible community, by his as-, sumption of righteousness and by the power which the police authorities allow him to assume. He also satisfies the peeping craving which is strong in certain perverts and he derives much pleasure from beholding the sins of 136 PSYCHOANALYSIS Others. The day will probably come when the community win realize the danger of leaving such manic perverts at large and will send them for treatment to the psycho- pathic ward Instead of letting them sit In judgment upon art matters. A word should be said In closing about the form of fiction which we might call anxiety stories. Much of what was said about " anxiety dreams " can be repeated In dealing with the harrowing stories, which " make our flesh creep or our hair stand on end." They provide an outlet for our self-protection urge, which In many situa- tions is repressed for fear of social disgrace. Anyone familiar with the functioning of the autonomic nervous system will easily realize that the excitement produced by that sort of stories, or plays and to which corresponds the releasing of adrenin In the blood and the mobilization of sugar, which Imparts a sense of power. Is a great com- pensation for inactive lives and for any feeling of inferi- ority which might be unconsciously present in the reader or beholder. These stories also gratify the sadistic tendency latent in everyone, and which makes mobs run to fires or congre- gate on streets In case of accidents. CHAPTER XII THE URGES AND THE ARTS A PSYCHOLOGICAL Study of painting, sculpture and music will be possible only when we have acquired a more complete understanding of the chemical unconscious. I stated in Chapter II that heliotropism played a tremen- dous part in the actions (likes and dislikes) of many ani- mals. The sunlight or certain colors seem to rob some of them of their will-power, which can be restored to them by the adding of certain chemicals to their food or their environment. In Chapter V we have seen that red and blue seemed to have, the world over, a sexual significance. Colors in certain combinations lose their affective power or again have it Increased, as Chevreul's studies show. The synchromist school of painting has " felt " that colors are apt to produce on the retina a sense of spatial location. We know that a certain sound at a certain pitch will lower all the vital activities and induce sleep while an- other sound may throw one Into a frenzy, regardless of acquired associations such as the " martial " tone of the trumpet or the " bucolic " sound of the flute, etc. Great rhythmic regularity characterises the old songs, especially the oldest lullabies, and regularity of pattern characterises all old drawings and engravings. I have reduced several hundred old folksongs to one geometrical 137 138 PSYCHOANALYSIS pattern, four almost equal pyramids, whose base and apex never overlap the limits of the ^tave. Similar observations could probably be made on shapes, thus bringing us closer to an understanding of the gratifi- cation supplied by sculpture. Thus far I am not aware that any such research work has ever been undertaken. Music is probably the oldest of all the arts, for the first song originated when the first combination of sighs, groans or shouts was repeated after being found pleasing, or when the emission of some sound accompanying some physical motion was found to add a certain pleasure to that motion. The enormous importance which rhythm has in music undoubtedly points to an extremely ancient origin. From the first period in music probably date dance music, religious music, the accompaniments to the old epic songs, all the combinations of sounds which facili- tated through rhythm some regular physical action, marching, swinging a censer, reciting a long-winded story, memorizing ritual words. The second period of the world produced hedonistic music, music for enjoyment, either personal or collective, and unrelated to any utilitarian, religious or ritual pur- pose. This is the type of music that the musically uneducated are more apt to relish. It simply caresses the nerve ends and is of a perfectly sensuous character. We might place promiscuously in the hedonistic class composers like Cho- pin, Mendelssohn, Tosti and Irving Berlin. That sort of music is most favored by soloists and audiences which go to hear soloists, and seek not so much musical enjoy- ment as nervous excitement associated with the playing THE URGES AND THE ARTS I39 of very sensuous tunes or the performance of very diffi- cult passages on a violin or piano. Solo music, with its romantic tinge, corresponds closely to the stories of ad- venture and blood curdling tales of the second period in literature. The third period Is represented by Wagner and Strauss and all the composers who have attempted musical char- acter-drawing. Types and moods being represented musically by " leit motifs," the enjoyment of this type of composition requires a certain training of the memory, which must retain the meaning of many musical symbols. Unless we are intimately acquainted with the various themes representing for Instance, Siegfried, Siegfried the fearless, Siegfried the hero, Siegfried the Impetuous, Siegfried the protector or the NIbelung, the NIbelung's hate, the NIbelung's power, the NIbelung's servitude and can distinguish between the motives characterising Hagen, Freia or Brunnhlld, our pretense of enjoying Wagner is preposterous. This Is an artificial medium of expression which In the hands of men less skilled than Wagner or Strauss would have produced deplorable results. Their powerful per- sonalities alone saved the day. Modern music Is drifting away very fast from the hedonistic stage and the character-drawing stage. Char- acter-drawing especially seems to be doomed to a complete death, for the memory of music-lovers would be sorely taxed should twenty-five Wagners compel us to mem- orize their musical symbols under penalty of not under- standing their works except from the point of view of whatever mere hedonist gratification they might give us. I40 PSYCHOANALYSIS The egotistical stage in music goes rather far back in the history of that art. Making allowances for the ob- stacles raised in the path of men like Bach and Beethoven by the scholastic superstitions of their days, the use of artificial forms such as the fugue, the symphony or the sonata, which destroy spontaneity, much of what Bach and Beethoven wrote belongs to the fourth period of musical development. Unmindful of the audience, never seeking prettiness, they were among the pioneers who thought that a combination of sounds must be inter- esting because It originated in their brain. Debussy, Ornstein and Scriablne are characteristic at the present day of that egotistical tendency. Free rhythm, dissonance, absence of returning motives characterise the modern school in which every composer is naturally a law unto himself. The pictorial arts were undoubtedly created at first by sexual urglngs. For thousands of years genital organs were the first models of primitive sculptors and engravers. Of primitive painting we know little, owing to the perish- able character of its products. Sculptured stones and drawings on the walls of archaic caves, however, leave us no doubt'as to what inspired the first artists. Most of those specimens have been gradually removed from museums owing to the wave of sexual repression which began in Europe in the Middle Ages, but specimens of Asiatic art and the results of excavations in the " dead cities " of Italy reveal what place the representation of sexual subjects occupied In relatively modern art. Even religious buildings were not free from such fancies and old cathedrals all over Europe show a display of many *' obscene " subjects. Primitive drawings began early, THE URGES AND THE ARTS I4I however, to show the promptings of the ego or power urge. Cavemen of 5000 B. C, like the mighty hunters of our days, were apt to boast of their killings, and, ignorant of taxidermy, represented on the walls of their caves either the mastodons they slaughtered or the herds of elks they owned. To that period we are also indebted for the first representatives of anthropomorphic gods, totem animals and other cultural representations. The second age found gratification in these represen- tations of living animals and employed them more and more for their ornamental value. The first utensils car- ried the likenesses of various animals, stylized and in symmetrical repetition. Temples were adorned with fig- ures of gods and goddesses, imitating the utmost perfec- tion of the human body. This is the period of intense personal adornment, the " beauty stage " in the pictorial arts. Greek art of the classical period typifies well that second stage, or " beauty stage." About the eleventh century, at least so far as Europe is concerned the craving for beauty passed away, and character-drawing began in the pictorial arts. The transition is clearly observable in monuments like the Rheims cathedral where certain sculptors carved statues which remind one of Greek art, while others, more modern, only sought to achieve a strong characterisation, regardless of the pleasing or unpleasant character of the result thus obtained. The Italian and German Renaissances are character- ised by the desire to create types. Leonardo Da Vinci and Albrecht Diirer are indifferent to beauty. Mona Lisa is not beautiful, neither is Erasmus, but both are them- selves. Cranach intensified that research of character In 142 PSYCHOANALYSIS a grotesque way, as shown by his Impossible " Paris and the three goddesses," in which, in order to differentiate the three female figures he clothes them in a preposterous way, or causes them to assume ridiculous poses. El Greco, Rembrandt, Houdon, Millet and Rodin are rep- resentative of the third stage in the pictorial arts. It was not until the beginning of the nineteenth century that the egotistical stage was reached in the pictorial art. It began with the first attempt at landscape painting. Before Turner, Corot or Daubigny, a landscape played in painting the part which scenery plays in a modern play- house. It supplied a background for the actors, for the figures, for the " story." Landscapists began to impose their ego upon the world by deciding that the " story " was no longer necessary and that a landscape which interested them should interest everybody else. From painting a certain landscape be- cause the combination of colors and masses found in it appeals to the painter's senses and gives him gratification to the complete abolition of the subject and its replace- ment by color and mass effect, not based upon recogniz- able objects, there is but a short step. For material reasons, sculpture has lagged slightly behind painting but it follows painting as fast as Its many fetters will let It. The monotony of the modern world which we men- tioned In Chapter VIII Is responsible for the ego flarings which characterise the ultra-modern art. The stan- dardization of modern life makes It imperative for cer- tain Individuals to express violently, without any regard for the cravings of other Individuals, certain cravings of theirs for certain combinations of colors or shapes. THE URGES AND THE ARTS I43 Hence the great variety of schools in painting. The fu- turists, enamored of motion, translate into color the pro- cess of the cinematograph which consists in showing us the same figure in successive positions; Matisse and his followers are essentialists who seek to convey their vision by the smallest profile number of lines and the greatest economy of color. Cezanne and his imitators are Intent on giving us the impression of volume. The synchromists are seeking a new perspective based on the spatial location of the vari- ous colors of the prism; Picabia sees the world in the shape of machinery; Kandinsky relies on apparently un- related patches of color representing absolutely nothing and quite as haphazardly disposed as the colors of a pic- turesque sunset. Painting, sculpture and music furnish a compensation for many of the unpleasant features of the modern world. Colorists compensate for the greyness of life, sculpture of the second period gives us back the beautiful bodies which clothing conceals from us, music may atone for the hideous or monotonous noises of modern cities. As Jelllffe says, " We might almost call modern art a form of psycho- therapy." Dancing has gone through the same process of develop- ment observable in the other arts. The dance was at first a religious-sexual manifestation, later a rhythmical compensation for the arhythmic charac- ter of life. The second period may be typified by ballet dancing, of the Pavlova type. Dancers like Ruth St. Denis and Maud Allan represent the third, or character- drawing, period. Finally some of Isadora Duncan's work corresponds to the personal ego period. 144 PSYCHOANALYSIS From the foregoing only one conclusion can be drawn: no one standard holds good on the various periods of art. We may describe art as manifesting a greater or smaller degree of ego development, and decide that the larger the proportion of egotism it reveals the more advanced it is. Beauty, or moral fitness, etc., should be completely abandoned as the basis of criticism. Art-criticism is at best an expression of personal convictions, not binding for anyone else, and in our modern civilization, that personal opinion is greatly diluted with a desire not to frighten ad- vertising art-dealers, musicians or publishers from the col- umns of a publication. As personality seems to be the element of survival in the third and fourth periods it may be that works of art could be " judged " by that test, the judgment being sim- ply a guess as to the possible duration of their popularity. Any talk of eternal standards is childish. The human race is made up of individuals who, accord- ing to their degree of development, may be divided into ^infants, children, adolescents and adults. The woman who called on Whistler and stated that she knew nothing about art but knew what she liked, was a better psycholo- gist than the average art-critic. We do not know what her stage of development was, but the works of art cor- responding to that stage probably compensated her for what people in her stage of development were lacking or missing or craving. And this is about all that can be said. There is such a thing as skill in art, as there is in all trades, and a writer, a composer or a painter may be un- skilled in their craft and hence fail to produce effects which a better trained artisan would produce with a mini- THE URGES AND THE ARTS I45 mum of effort and without waste of material. But as skill is probably the prime requisite of every human pro- ductive effort, no critical theory could be built on that basis. CHAPTER XIII FORMS OF ABNORMAL COMPENSATION We have seen that the human organism is supplied with many safety-valves. Some of them, however, may func- tion improperly, some not at all. Situations may arise which prevent all of them at once from relieving the pressure in the human boiler. Oversensitiveness to sounds, for instance, may cause sleeplessness, which robs the individual of the great compensation and relief af- forded by dreams. This may explain why, to some peo- ple, sleeplessness is so unbearable. To people living in great isolation, to dwellers on lonely farms, the forms of relief described in our chapter on the psychology of every- day life are reduced to a minimum. The large number of trifling symptomatic actions, which in a lively and varied environment relieve the pressure of the urges, are replaced by a few unpleasant acts, whose violence or bitterness cause a rebound worse than the relief they afford. Wit is stifled easily by an unfavorable environment, or trans- formed into a double-edged weapon. Self-expression through art is impossible in thousands of cases, or at least appears so. Individual restraint due to imprisonment provides no outlet for sexual or egotistical promptings. As long as the human machine runs smoothly, the rou- tine of life may continue indefinitely, however grey and uninteresting it may be. Let the machine, on the other 146 FORMS OF ABNORMAL COMPENSATION 147 hand, receive a sudden jolt, of a physical or emotional nature, and the pressure may burst the boiler at its weak- est point. That weakest point is often determined by some inferior organ. The repressed urges then overpower us and force them- selves into our consciousness in a distorted form which conceals their actual meaning. When inferior organs or, in other words, an environ- ment too powerful to be modified by inferior organs, make the various forms of normal compensation unattain- able, a neurosis sets in and supplies compensation in an abnormal way. As every organ probably has a memory of its own, the inferior organ projects its memories into the mind, consciously or unconsciously, in the form of memory dis- turbances, amnesia or, on the contrary, of stressed mem- ories of an hallucinatory character. On the basis of compensation for some organ inferior- ity, Adler says, abnormal ideas may develop, affecting the function of the will and the perception of pleasure and displeasure. From the motor portion of the compensat- ing structure arise all the phenomena of the neurosis, which are all important as motor discharges: tics, cramps, epilepsy, etc. In the infantile anomalies to which are ascribed mas- turbatory characteristics, thumb-sucking, anal-touching, etc., we can observe the search of pleasure characteristic of the inferior mouth, intestine, genitals. In other words some inferior organ presents the point of least resistance through which the urges seek their abnormal compensa- tion. Jung does not seek the cause of a neurosis in the mental 148' PSYCHOANALYSIS or physical past but in the present. Infantile predispo- sitions and habits, organ inferiority, do not appear to him as important as the actual problems of the patient's life, clamoring for a solution. Jung always wishes to know what the necessary task is which the patient unconsciously refuses to accomplish. He sees in the psychological troubles of a neurosis and in the neurosis itself an attempt at adaptation which has failed. People who for some reason are unable to accept the well established line of normal adaptation, whose aims and tasks are likely to be of a highly individual character, are apt to select an abnormal or primitive form of adapta- tion, and thus they follow the line of least effort. The neurotic has the soul of a child, unwilling to endure the arbitrary limitations of present life. He tries to adopt the moral standard of his environment, but, by so doing, only falls into deeper disunion and disharmony with himself. The neurotic symptom is a symptom of that struggle. It is an indirect expression of unconscious wishes which, if they were conscious, would conflict with the neurotic's moral and ethical views. There are many patients, for instance, who boast of being absolutely in- different to the sexual conflict. Those people do not see that their sexuality, which they consider as entirely re- pressed, transforms itself into and gratifies itself abnor- mally through physical symptoms which torture them and their environment. On this point, there is almost complete agreement be- tween Jung and Adler. To Adler, the whole army of neurotic symptoms, blushing, headache, migraine, faint- ing, pains, tremors, depression, etc., can be traced to what he calls " ready-for-use attitudes." The patient is not FORMS OF ABNORMAL COMPENSATION I49 malingering, for malingering is a conscious process. But, from the memory of earlier defects, a state of apparent stupidity, deafness, limping, untidiness, lack of appetite, nausea, may be retained. The unconscious mind grad- ually evolves out of those ready-prepared psychic attitudes certain habits to which the patient holds fast in his fear of being neglected, certain mental leanings which give the neurosis a definite direction. " The unconsciously re- membered defect responds to the craving for gratification as the skilled fingers of a pianist naturally respond to the demands of a difficult passage." Adler answers as follows the objection which the gen- eral public Is likely to make when told that suffering may constitute a form of " gratification " for repressed urges: " How shall the severe suffering of a neurosis, the ter- rible pain of trigeminal neuralgia. Insomnia, paralysis, mi- graine, all be thrown Into the bargain as a means to an end? I have myself struggled against this conviction which thrust Itself upon me. Is the case much different when human beings endure all sorts of hardships for a whole life-time in order to attain some worthless bubble? Neurotic symptoms are In many cases a means of obtain- ing mastery over some other person. For Instance, nu- merous writers have suggested that migraine can be in- herited. We must give up the idea of the inherltablllty of migraine as we were obliged to give up Its organic etiology. Migraine Is one of the neurotic affections which serve to secure mastery In the household. A patient hav- ing observed the power her mother derived from her at- tacks of migraine Imitates her unconsciously and succeeds in doing what primeval man did when he made himself gods which afterward filled him with terror." CHAPTER XIV THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX Before proceeding to describe the neuroses, we must discuss at length a phenomenon called the " Oedipus com- plex," due to a " faulty relation between children and parents instigated by incestuous longings " and which Freud and his followers consider as " the central complex of the neurosis." Freud realized that such a thesis would not be accepted readily by the medical and the lay world and in " Totem and Taboo " he writes: " This discovery of the signifi- cance of incest for the neurosis naturally meets with the most general incredulity on the part of the grown-up, normal man. . . . Such a rejection is, above all, the pro- duct of man's deep aversion to his former incest-wishes which have since succumbed to repression." Out of some one hundred prostitutes examined in 191 1 by the Chicago Vice Commission, one-half " confessed " that they had been first seduced by their fathers. Pros- titutes the world over are apt to tell the same story, mak- ing it at times more romantic by saying that their fa- ther was a well known, rich, powerful man and that they had to " disappear " to save his reputation. Even if we consider that suspicious selection of a scape- goat with the utmost scepticism, we cannot escape the fact that so many of them selected the same scapegoat, 150 THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX I51 and that If their father did not seduce them, at least their mind had dwelt upon that possibility, had become recon- ciled to it and perhaps admitted its reality. The very presence of such a fancy in the minds of so many women points to something which is more than accidental. We have seen in Chapter VI how frequently a more or less veiled incest-motive appeared in the folklore of all races. Otto Rank has shown that it forms the material of poetry in countless variations and distortions. Even at the present day, incest-wishes appear so dan- gerous to primitive races that they maintain the most complicated defensive measures against them, including not only torture but capital punishment. The great question in the child's unconscious mind is, "Shall I be like father or like mother?" Upon his choice will depend his normality or abnormality in later life, whether his early leanings predispose him to mental derangement or whether mental derangement leads him back to the situation in which he found comfort during his formative years. The so called " Oedipus complex " has for that reason been given a great deal of attention by the three schools of analysis, none of which denies its capital importance. Freud, Jung and Adler have made on this subject obser- vations of great value, and any analysis disregarding any part of their findings would run the risk of being woefully superficial. For the three solutions of the problem of- fered by the two Vienna schools and the Zurich school are often necessary for the complete understanding of one single case. According to Freud, all neuroses have their foundations 152 PSYCHOANALYSIS laid before the fifth year of life. The impulses which he designates as sexual, a term which must not be con- founded with genital, originally arise through the spon- taneous yearning of the child to return to the mother's body where its prenatal life was perfect, from a physi- cal standpoint, the child being then protected against all physical agencies, supplied automatically with the most suitable food, rocked pleasantly while being transported from place to place, kept at an even temperature, etc. We see already why the mother's importance in the child's life, regardless of the child's sex, is so much greater than that of the father. That importance had been pointed out, long before Freud's theories were formu- lated, by a man who was a profound psychologist, Luther. In the twentieth chapter of his " Table Discourses " he wrote : " One can just as little do without women as one can go without eating or drinking. The reason for this is that we were conceived in the flesh of a woman, fed while in a woman's body, born of woman, brought up by a woman. Our flesh is therefore made mainly of woman's flesh and it is impossible for us to separate ourselves from it." In other words we are never able to cut off entirely our navel string and woman means infinitely more for man and woman alike than man could ever mean even for woman. The intense longing of the child for its mother; its fear and anxiety in her absence; the comfort and security it experiences when resting in her arms are thus, in the Freudian sense, the first impressions of primary sexual life. The first attempt at disentanglement from the mother THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX I53 occurs when the nursling learns ways of its own to se- cure certain pleasurable sensations which until then had been connected with the mother's body. It takes its thumb in its mouth instead of the mother's nipple, and then goes to sleep as it would after nursing. It begins to take an evident interest in its own physical functions, in which it discovers new sources of pleasure, urinating or emptying its bowels. Its entire body begins to be a source of many new pleasures. This is the narcist period characterised by an intense delight in everything physical and an enormous overvaluation of one's self. At puberty a more or less sudden detachment from the mother and one's self takes place, the craving thus freed being directed toward a human being of the op- posite sex. If a young boy at the time of puberty shows a definite interest in little girls of his age and a girl is attracted by boys, their parents may rest in peace. They may have to be watchful, but physically and mentally their children will probably be normal. The boys or girls, who, after going through the crisis of puberty show no definite inclination to children of the opposite sex, are candidates to many forms of misery, mental and physical. They may have lingered in the narcist, auto-erotic stage, which is not adapted to modern civilized life, and they will struggle against that handicap all their lives, some being merely discontented and some, broken by the con- flict, taking refuge in a neurosis. They may have had their sexuality differentiated the wrong way, boys being attracted by boys, and girls by girls. 154 PSYCHOANALYSIS They may have contracted a fixation of their affections on their father or their mother, and the ghost of one of the parents will always haunt them, distorting their views and making their behavior strange and unsocial. Father and mother can unknowingly pervert their chil- dren in the most deplorable way. I do not mean unfit or immoral parents; quite the contrary. Affectionate pa- rents probably wreck the careers of more children than indifferent ones. The fond mother who plays lovingly with her boy or girl long after they have ceased to be infants, who al- lows them to come to her bed, mornings or evenings, who lets herself be kissed and fondled by her growing children, is apt to develop in them some ineradicable abnormality. The boy may remain as completely dependent on his mother as when he was a nursling. He will enjoy the touch and the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin or hair, her kisses, her caresses. In that enjoyment there will not be the slightest conscious intimation of " sex "; it will all be tenderness of the purest type, which to the ignorant observer can be but pleasing and touching. The suggestion that there could be anything grossly physi- cal in such a relation would very justly fill mother and child with resentment. And yet experience proves that such a boy may become so accustomed to that form of love that he may never be attracted by any other woman. No other woman will offer him as readily sympathy, comfort, warm kisses, willing caresses. Compared to his mother's love, the affection offered by any other woman will appear cold, diffident, unreliable, sordid, a thing to be conquered, not a thing to be secured without effort. The fixation will be THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX 155 even more complete if the mother is young, pretty and can hold her own physically as well as intellect- ually, against the inexperienced, unsophisticated, artificial young girls whom the boy meets in his social environ- ment. We have all met the old bachelor who is an ideal son, and whom we hardly dare to ridicule when he praises the appearance and distinction of his homely or dowdy mother, when he bows down to her stupid judgment, on whose wisdom he complacently dwells. He may marry, preferably after her death, some woman older than him- self, whose only attraction will be her settled, motherly attitude. If he marries a younger woman, he will in all likelihood make her life unbearable by constantly pointing out the many ways in which she is inferior to his mother, and compel her on every occasion to submit to his mother's authority. The girl accustom.ed to too much petting at her moth- er's hands may develop more frankly sensuous traits than a boy would in the same situation. Mother and daughter being of the same sex are not restrained by the natural reserve which imposes definite physical limits upon the caresses a mother and her son may properly exchange. Many young girls kiss their mother's neck, shoulders, throat and arms as a lover would, and later in life may establish between the caresses of their mother and those of men disastrous comparisons, as to tenderness, security, physical attraction, daintiness, etc. Girls trained that way will be dominated by their mothers, indifferent to men, will make frigid, nagging wives, who will insist on referring all the problems of the household to their mothers for a final decision and will not rest content until 156 PSYCHOANALYSIS their husbands show their mothers the same obedience they display. Likewise a fond father, treating his boy or girls too tenderly, may impart to them an abnormal disposition. The daughter of the Ellen Key type, who is her father's constant companion, never feels attracted by any man and may some day marry one who, by his age and appear- ance, is an almost perfect image of her father, is a type frequently met with, and the result of unwise bring- ing up. ^ , For many obvious reasons, however, the mother's in- fluence is deeper than the father's, for there seldom is as much unconscious sensuality in the attachment of the chil- dren for the father as there can be in the attraction their mother wields over them. The fixation of the affections of the children on one of the parents is only one detail of the picture. It is the love component of the Oedipus complex; it is generally accompanied by a more sinister element, the element of hate. The man with a fixation on his mother usually hates his father, who is his rival; the woman with a fixa- tion on her father hates her mother, and this new source of conflict, as old as the world, as a study of folklore has revealed to us, complicates tragically the plot of the family romance. The disharmony it introduces into the most important relationship in life is quite capable of cre- ating the greatest unhappiness. When we add to this the various sexual perversions attendant upon infancy and childhood fixations, and which shall be reviewed in the next chapter, we can understand why Freud considered the Oedipus complex as the most dangerous destroyer of mankind's mental equilibrium. THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX 1 57 Jung takes a slightly different view of the situation. He conceives the existence in the child of a vital urge extending far beyond sexuality, even in the broad sense which Freud gives to the word. The life urge manifests itself in growth, development, hunger and all imaginable human activities. Although he recognizes with Freud the primal instinct of reproduction as the basis of many activities, Jung re- fuses to call those activities sexual. While Freud sees in infantile activities a sort of polymorphous perversity, similar to the perversions occurring in adults in later life, Jung sees in those activities the beginnings of fully ripened sexuality, preliminary, non-perverse expressions of sexual coloring. It is when it comes to a discussion of the habits acquired in childhood that we observe the greatest divergence of views between Freud and Jung. Jung willingly recognizes that many neurotics exhibit clearly in their childhood abnormal tendencies which in later life will be exaggerated, and that the destiny of those children is deeply influenced by their parents' ten- derness, overanxiety, or, on the contrary, by their lack of sympathy and understanding. The child's small, nar- row world is entirely dominated by the parents' influence, but the child is not conscious of that fact. For that r-eason, Jung does not consider the father or mother as real persons, as a male or a female, but as more or less distorted symbols created by the imagination of the individual. The demands made by the child upon the mother, the jealousy exhibited toward the father, are at first connected with the part played by the mother, an unsexed provider 158 PSYCHOANALYSIS of food and warmth, a protector, a help in the satisfaction of natural wants. At puberty the child abandons his dependence upon the parents to become a self-assertive individual. Upon the measure in which the process has been completed will de- pend the child's freedom and happiness. And at this point Jung breaks entirely with Freud. He thinks that by going back to infantile influences, the analyst is imposed upon by the subject who tries to withdraw from the present and seek a convenient scape- goat in his own past. The neurosis, Jung thinks, is caused by the impending necessity of performing some important task before which the neurotic shrinks, because his previous training has not made him strong enough or bold enough to surmount cer- tain obstacles. There occurs then a regression to infantile ways which is converted into symptoms and creates the external mani- festations of the neurosis. What is the cause of that regression? Jung says that the dream phantasies of neurotics are really forms of com- pensation or artificial substitutes for their incomplete adaptation to reality. Those phantasies are merely in- fantile and if they give the impression of sexuality, it is owing to the frankly sensuous tinge which all the activities of infancy assume. Jung sees in the father the predominating factor in the child's life. The mother may be the moulding force so far as the children are concerned, but she, in turn, is moulded by the father. . His contentions are based upon observations made by one of his pupils. Dr. Emma Fuerst, on some 100 persons THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX 1 59 belonging to 24 families. They prove that the reaction of parents and offspring are curiously similar, and that the husband generally modifies the wife's reactions so that after several years of married life the difference between their reactions may not be more than 1.4%. This is undoubtedly true of a number of families (maybe of the majority of families) of Latin, Teutonic and Slav stock, and even more so among Oriental races, but it is doubtful whether it describes the actual condi- tions in Anglo-Saxon nations, in which the domination of the male and the obedience of the female are not char- acteristic features of community and family life. Adler presents the subject from an entirely different angle. Modern civilization having been established upon the principle of masculine superiority, there is a constant antithesis, male-female, strong-weak, authority-obedience, above-below, security-insecurity. Every human being, normal or abnormal, is born with what Nietzsche calls the will-to-power, and what Adler calls the wish-to-be-above. Normal beings simply exert their utmost endeavors to reach that goal. Abnormal people on the other hand are likely to be worried in the course of their quest by a feeling of inferiority due to some real or imaginary organic deficiency. Fearful of some obscure handicap, at times, indeed, absolutely unconscious (for the individual with inferior glands, deficient secretions, cannot know positively what ails him) the neurotic expects defeat. In preparation for that eventuality, he seeks excuses for It. He then takes refuge in fancies of a sexual character which may deceive him but which, Adler says, should not deceive the l6o PSYCHOANALYSIS analyst. On this point Adler and Jung are in accord. A sickly girl who, during her entire childhood, leans upon her strong and healthy father and who, in doing so, tries to rob her mother of her superior position, may comprehend this psychic constellation in the form of in- cestuous thoughts, thinking of herself as though she were her father's wife. Thereby her fictitious goal is at- tained. Her insecurity is only abolished when she is with her father. By taking refuge in her father she finds that heightened ef^o-consciousness which she is striving for, and which she has borrowed from the ideals of child- hood. If she recoils from a proffer of love or marriage, the acceptance of which might mean a lowering of her ego-consciousness, she acts, so to speak, symbolically; all her defensive resources and all her predispositions be- come arrayed against the prospect which marriage would open to her, of a female destiny. " The greater her feelings of insecurity, the more stub- bornly that girl will cling to her fancy, the more literally she is likely to take it, and as human thinking favors sym- bolic abstractions, the patient will easily succeed (and so will the analyst) in creating a picture of incestuous crav- The constitutionally inferior child, the unattractive child seeking love, the strictly brought-up child, the over- pampered child, all of whom are candidates to a neurosis, seek more eagerly than strong, healthy, independent chil- dren to avoid the hardships of existence. They long to banish into a distant future the fate which will confront them some time. They fall back upon their parents, they regress to childhood or infancy. THE OEDIPUS COMPLEX l6l In adjusting this principle to his thinking and acting, in his endeavor to raise himself to the level of his strong father, even if he has (as some legendary heroes did) to suppress him, the neurotic removes himself from reality and is suspended in the meshes of his fiction. The same applies to a certain extent to normal children. They too wish to be big and strong like their father. Their fear of the new is often a mere desire to do or say the things father did or said. They, however, do not resort to infantile phantasies to escape life's evils. They defeat the complexes which defeats the neurotic. The three points of view can be harmonized very easily. Sensuality, authority and egotism may well blend in the unconscious boy of sixteen who is caressing his mother. He may derive an unconscious or a conscious pleasure from touching her fresh skin; he may also submit willingly and lovingly to her authority; and he may have in her company a deep sense of security. One of these three elements may predominate, or one or two may be entirely absent. A boy may hate his father because he begrudges him some happy moments he might pass with his mother, or because his father robs him of a loved plaything. He may resent the fact that his ideal in life submits itself to the caprices of another human being; his ego may feel diminished because his sense of ownership of his mother is directly challenged. ^ As the task of analysis consists in making all the ele- ments of a neurosis conscious to the subject, the reader can readily see that neither the Freudian, nor the Jungian, nor the Adlerian view should be ignored in unraveling the riddle of the unconscious. 1 62 PSYCHOANALYSIS There are three ways of approaching the problem of parental influence in neurosis, three points of vantage from which to attack the enemy. A superficial arvey of folk-legends shows us these three points of view repre- sented in the dreams and broodings of mankind. The archaic gods killed or castrated their fathers. Jesus sacrifices himself, and then father and son renounce the mother, who becomes a virgin. Sargon, son of a virgin, eliminates his father by disclaiming any knowledge of his Identity. Oedipus kills his father and marries his mother. Aun, King of Sweden, had to kill a son of his every nine years to prolong his life, each time nine years more. Siegfried seeks the mother-image and finds it in his aunt, Brunhilde. The hunted and wounded Sieg- mund finds motherly sympathy and care In his sister, Sieg- linde. Electra, seeking the security she lost when her father died, lavishes love-words upon his substitute, Orestes, and goads him Into avenging Agamemnon. The obedience of Tzarevitsh Ivan to his father and his stren- uous quest of the Fire Bird are prompted by a desire to Inherit his father's kingdom and to assume his lofty posi- tion by eliminating him. Princess Sesselya, pursued by her father, finally yields to his substitute, the old king of the neighboring land. CHAPTER XV THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES The accepted classification of the various mental dis- turbances is a convenience rather than a scientific perform- ance. There hardly ever Is a clear-cut type of neurosis or psychosis which does not present the symptoms of some other neurosis or psychosis. The names of the various mental disturbances are at best an indication of the dom- inant symptom of each disturbance. The medical world will In all likelihood accept in the future the new classifica- tion proposed by Kempf In his recent address before the American Psychopathologlcal Association. The terms dementia praecox, war neuroses, paranoia, manic-depressive Insanity, etc., have been completely dis- pensed with and entirely new terms created which are ap- plied to the mechanisms Involved In the case and not to the symptoms. " The prefixes acute, periodic or chronic, then benign or pernicious are followed by the type of neurosis, such as » . . . ,. suppression, repression, compensatory, regression or dis- sociation neurosis. Two or more terms, such as repres- sion-compensatory or repression-regression, may be used to define the type of the neurosis when It Is complicated. The difference between benign and pernicious lies In that the benign neuroses are characterised by the individual being Inclined to accept the disease or distress as due to ungratifiable cravings, whereas, In the pernicious mechan- 163 1 64 PSYCHOANALYSIS ism, he tends to hate those who would attribute the dis- turbance to a personal cause or wish and he maintains that it is due to an impersonal cause or a mahcious in- fluence. " In the suppression neurosis, the patient is aware of the nature and influence of the wish but does not allow it to dominate his behavior. In the repression neurosis he prevents the wish from causing him to be conscious of its existence or influence. " The compensatory neuroses are characterised by striving to develop functions that will compensate for some organic or functional inferiority or keep the unde- sirable craving repressed. In the regression neurosis, the individual falls back to a lower, preceding, Irresponsible level, wherein he can permit the perversely conditioned segments to seek gratification through symbols and fancies, imitative of reality and through overt behavior without remorse. " In the dissociation neuroses, the intolerable cravings dominate the individual's behavior despite the ego's strug- gle to prevent It, and, causing obsessions, phobias, compul- sions, mannerisms, hallucinations, delusions, etc. (the va- rious psychoses of the old terminology) obtain gratifica- tion in the same manner as the intragastric Itching of the stomach, hunger, causes thoughts and hallucinations, dur- ing sleep or privations, about getting and eating food." Kempf's view was derived from the analysis of a large number of cases of graver psychoses, including so-called hysterias, manic-depressives, paranoias, dementia praecox (paranoid, catatonic, hebephrenic, simple, epileptoid) pa- retic, arterloslerotic disturbances and intoxication delirias. He is inclined to regard the neurosis and psychosis as THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 65 " eccentric biological deviations produced by organic dis- eases, or distortions of the autonomic-affective cravings, the latter in turn being caused by distressing experiences." In a private communication dated August 19, 19 19, Kempf expresses himself as follows on the distinction usually drawn between neuroses and psychoses : " I see no reason for using the term ' psychosis ' except to designate types of neurosis which cause abnormal derangements of the contend of consciousness such as hallucinations, de- lusions, uncontrollable patterns of thinking, phobias, in- spirations, etc. On the other hand, the term dissociation neurosis covers the psychoses and has the advantage of working with the physiological problem involved." As the literature of psychoanalysis, however, has thus far preserved the usual classification, we shall adhere to it for the present, following closely Freud's description of the neuroses and White's description of the phychoses. Freud divides the neuroses into true neuroses and psycho-neuroses. The true neuroses are neurasthenia and anxiety neu- rosis. According to Freud, the cause of these diseases is the disturbance of the sexual processes which determine the formation and utilization of the sexual libido. " We can hardly avoid perceiving these processes," he writes, " as being, in the last analysis, chemical in their nature, so that we recognize in the true neuroses the soma- tic effect of disturbances in the sexual metabolism, which in the psychoneuroses we recognize besides the psychic effects of the same disturbances. The resemblance of the neuroses to the manifestations of intoxication and absti- nence, following certain alkaloids, and to Basedow's and 1 66 PSYCHOANALYSIS Addison's diseases obtrudes Itself clinically without any further ado, and just as these two diseases should no longer be described as nervous diseases, so will the genuine neuroses soon have to be removed from this class, despite their nomenclature." Adler warns us against interpreting too literally the sexual aspect of the neuroses. It is essential, for instance, he tells us, to discover at what point a neurotic woman protests against her femininity. " This point can always be found, for the pressure toward the maximation of the ego consciousness necessitates the adoption of a reassuring guiding line. Mannish fashions are affected, crossed legs and arms, a tendency to take, in walking, the side which a man would take, or to allow no one to stand in front of them, as in dreams. In sexual relations, anaesthesia is the rule. Masculine variants, or those which disparage man, are given the preference. The masculine neurotic offers similar characteristics. He identifies masculinity with sexuality and it is this false artifice which fills his thoughts content with sexual pictures." Old fashioned psychiatry used neurasthenia as a con- venient blanket designation for a number of ill-defined disturbances which were neither clear cases of hysteria nor any of the psychoses. The word is a misnomer, for most of those disturbances are not nervous disorders, but merely states of mind. Freud has drawn a definite distinction between true neurasthenia and anxiety neurosis, designating these two disturbances as the only true neuroses. By " neurasthenia " Freud understands the following set of symptoms: Pressure in the head, spinal irritation, THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 67 dyspepsia with flatulency and constipation, paresthesia, diminished potency and emotional depression. He considers neurasthenia as due to exaggerated sexual self-gratification which weakens the individual's will- power by making the goal too easily attainable, affords inadequate relief, diminishes potency and, by ignoring too many psychological sources of excitement, may cause physical injury. The neurasthenic turns away from so- ciety, from reality and, if a m-an, from woman, for he can- not tolerate feminine imperfection. (As Wittels points out, the onanist visualizes in his fancies only perfect women.) Thus he becomes anti-social and betrays the result of his vain strife against passion in many ways, lack of will power, doubts about the possibility of achieve- ment and self-reproaches. White sees in the useless, unsatisfying life of the Idle rich woman one of the most potent causes of neurasthenia. Having no outer interests, she becomes introverted and complains of a hundred little nothings. " Exertion to her is only exertion and serves no special ends, fits in nowhere as a link in a well connected, coherent chain of events. She becomes introverted at the auto-erotic level." Anxiety neurosis is characterised by general irritability, exaggerated visual and auditive sensations which are often the cause of sleeplessness, anxious expectation of accidents, death, insanity, accompanied in certain cases by a disturbance of one or more bodily functions, respira- tion, circulation, glandular functions, etc. A prominent place must be given among the symptoms of anxiety neu- rosis to a form of dizziness which never leads to complete loss of equUibrium. 1 68 PSYCHOANALYSIS Freud considers the symptoms of anxiety neurosis as substitutes for the specific action which should follow sexual excitement and which is accompanied by accelera- tion of the respiration, palpitation, sweating and conges- tion. Anxiety neurosis is commonly supposed to be caused by overwork. But, Freud says, the physicians who ex- plain to a busy man that he has overworked himself, or to an active woman that her household duties have been too burdensome, should tell their patients that they are sick, not because they have sought to discharge duties which for a civilized brain are comparatively easy, but because they have neglected, if not stifled, their sexual life while attending to their duties. Men who resort to unsatisfying forms of sexual con- gress, women left unsatisfied by impotence or ejaculatio praecox in their husbands, are often found to be suffering from anxiety neuroses. The various psychoneuroses used to be considered as symptoms of a more general disturbance called psychas- thenia. Under that name Janet includes obsessions, in- sanity of doubt, tics, agitations, phobias, delirium of con- tact, anguish, neurasthenia and certain feelings of strange- ness and depersonalisation known as the disease of Kris- haber. The main symptom of this psychoneurosis was a lower- ing of the psychological tension illustrated by White as follows : " If we can think of our mental force in mechani- cal terms, and conceive it as flowing along the fiber tracts like steam in a pipe, then we may believe that this force has to be maintained at a certain tension in order that the perceptions from the outside world may be appreciated THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 69 at their true value. . . . This lowering of the psycho- logical tension, this feeling of incompleteness and de- ficiency in the function of the real, constitutes the funda- mental feature of this class of phenomena." Among the emotional obsessions included in Janet's psychasthenia we find phobias, or fears; agoraphobia, fear of open spaces; claustrophobia, fear of closed spaces; astrapaphobia, fear of thunder and lightning; aerophobia, fear of being in high places; morbid desires for drink or drugs; volitional obsessions; kleptomania, impulse to steal; pyromania, impulse to set fire to things; arithmo- mania, impulse to count everything; onomatomania, im- pulse to repeat one word, etc. Psychoanalysts do not consider all these symptoms as components of one single disturbance and have divided up psychasthenia into hysteria, anxiety hysteria, and com- pulsion neurosis. Hysteria, according to Freud, is due to an emotional conflict between the usual urge and the sexual repression, and its symptoms have the value of a compromise be- tween both psychic streams. Here we notice an apparent similarity between Freud's view and that of the average physician who considers that some recent occurrence pre- cipitated the hysterical attack. The so-called recent ex- perience is simply one of the obvious phases of an older conflict and observations, show that a long interval may intervene between the " crisis " and the establishment of the first symptom. A process called " conversion " takes place, whereby a sum of emotion is transformed into a physical dis- turbance of some sort. Once medicine applied itself to the treatment of the physical symptom. Psychoanalysis lyo PSYCHOANALYSIS seeks to remove the mental symptom that created it. At the same time the physical aspect must not be neglected, for, as Freud states emphatically, every hysterical symp- tom not only has a psychic origin but is conditioned by a certain physical predisposition. The hysterical symptom will follow the line of least resistance and express itself preferably through some or- gan which has already been weakened: an acute catarrh may pave the way for an hysterical cough; acute rhinitis facilitated in one case the establishment of an hysterical affected obsession. An hysterical symptom once established may be re- tained to give expression to diverse urges. A symptom may be retained to gain affection, indulgence or some other advantage; it may help the patient in satisfying some desire for revenge; there are also cases when purely imaginary motives will be found at work; self-punishment, repentance, etc. The hysterical attack should be interpreted like a dream. Like a dream it is a phantasy translated into a pantomime, but distorted like dream-pictures by the cen- sor and made to a certain extent unrecognizable. It is distorted through condensation of, for instance, a recent wish and an infantile phantasy, by multiple identification when the hysteric carries out the activities of both per- sons appearing in the phantasy, and by the antagonistic representation by the opposite which Vv^ould cause the arms to be thrown far back if a sexual attack was the subject of the hysterical fancy. Also the time sequence in the phantasy may be inverted, as it is often in dreams, the end of an action preceding its beginning. Anxiety hysteria is often found in connection with hys- THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES I7I teria proper. In this case the anxiety arises, not only from physical sources, but from a part of the ungratified desire which embraces a number of complexes. As the mind norvially reacts to danger through anxiety, we might say that in this case the mind was defending itself against internal danger. The psychic mechanism is the same as in hysteria except that it does not lead to conversion into physical symptoms. Anxiety hysteria always tends to develop a phobia. The most frequent of hysterical phobias is agoraphobia, which prevents the patient from walking securely across an empty space, although he can do so when accompanied by certain persons. Another anxiety-hysterical disturbance is erythrophobia or fear of red, at the bottom of which lies self-reproach or shame of some sort, feelings of being slighted, or anger. When this fear of red interferes with life activities, preventing one, for instance, from mingling with other people, it becomes a phobia. Anxiety dreams are a frequent occur- rence in anxiety hysteria. The dream picture represents the patient, usually a woman, pursued by some large beast, bull or stallion, or by armed burglars. Hysteria Is rather a disturbance of the female sex, ob- session neurosis of the male sex. The obsession neurosis Is characterised by a constant ambivalence which is well illustrated by an example given by Freud: A young man stubbed his toe against a stone lying in the roadway. He became obsessed by the idea that, as his fiancee was going away that day, the cab in which she would be driven to the station might be upset by this stone. He had to pick it up and carry It to the side of the roadway. After which he felt very foolish and returned the stone to its position In the middle of the 172 PSYCHOANALYSIS road. According to Frink, the first action meant: "I hope no injury befalls my beloved;" the second does not mean, as the patient probably believed: " I must not be so foolishly anxious about her," but rather, " I hope some- thing does happen to her." Some reproach for acts done in childhood and perhaps severely repressed, may change itself into shame (if an- other becomes aware of it) into hypochondriacal anxiety (because of the injurious physical consequences of the acts) into social anxiety (fear of punishment) into re- ligious anxiety, Into fear of being tempted, distrust of one's power of resistance, etc. This leads to obsessive thinking, obsessive testing and doubting mania. The predilection of the patient for uncertainty and doubt causes him frequently to fasten his thoughts on subjects where uncertainty Is general and where knowl- edge or judgment are naturally exposed to doubt, the duration of life, life after death, etc. Superstitions of all kinds are naturally observable In compulsion neurosis. No superstition carries any real conviction with the neurotic but It helps him to strengthen his doubts. Obsessive numbers are constantly met with in compul- sion neurosis. Seven appears most frequently. Dr. Mc- Kendree cited the case of a patient who had to do every- thing seven times, getting out of bed and Into bed again seven times before he could arise In the morning, pouring seven small quantities of milk into his coffee, lifting his spoon or fork seven times before he could convey food to his mouth. In the hallucination known as " Revelation " we find seven candlesticks, a book with seven seals, seven stars, seven angels with seven horns, a dragon with seven THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 73 heads, seven vials and seven plagues, and the document is addressed by John to the seven churches of Asia. In ordinary life seven and its multiples are of great importance. We speak of the seven Seas, the week has seven days, a moon four times seven days, people reach their majority at three times seven years, Salome wore seven veils, etc. We are all familiar with the obsession connected in cer- tain minds with the figures three and thirteen, with Fri- day, etc. The curiosity impulse is very marked in compulsion neurotics who are generally above the average In men- tality. One of the thoughts the compulsion neurotic is often oc- cupied with is the possibility of the death of others. In every conflict he waits for the death of someone Important or dear to him, a rival or one of the love-objects between whom his inclination wavers. His obsession Is based upon a superstitious belief in the omnipotence of his evil wishes. /- A story told by Dr. Frink Illustrates the morbid dis- placement and the wrong connection between cause and effect which Is observed In compulsion neurosis. A prosti- tute suffering from syphilis consulted him In reference to her " cigarette habit " which, she said, was killing her. On close examination It turned out that she never smoked more than seven or eight cigarettes a day. Unable to repress the consciousness of the fact that she was a prosti- tute and a sufferer from venereal disease, she denied the Importance of that fact and transferred the worry con- nected with it to an insignificant factor, such as moderate cigarette-smoking. By making a scape-goat of her cigar- 174 PSYCHOANALYSIS ette, Frink says, she dodged the problem of so reform- ing the rest of her life that there would be no cause for the development of guilty effects. Compulsion neurotics often abandon this sadistic im- pulse and turn to penance and reassuring measures v/hich have the same compulsory character, but by their oppres- sive character for the neurotics' environment assure them many advantages over this environment. We find among them anti-vivisectionists, vegetarians, members of the S. P. C. A., sectarians, intolerant persons, who may not be able to stand the sight of a bird bleeding but are in high glee when their opponents are severely punished. Shell shock cases include most of the psycho-neuroses and seem to be a compensation for the repressed self- protection urge. Hysterical deafness or blindness pro- tect the man from frightening sounds and sights; mono- plegiias, aphasias, abnormal gait, etc., remove him from the danger zone, regressions to infantile levels (interest in toys) remove him from the ranks of the adults and vouchsafe him the safety of non-combatant. " Shell shock," Bram writes, " is a misnomer and a term misleading in its implications. . . . The fact that in many of these cases goitre and exophthalmos develop soon after the inception of the affection diagnosed as shell shock has cleared the path for a more thorough investiga- tion of the etiology, physiology, and symptomatology of this condition, as a result of which there is a growing con- clusion that most cases of shell shock present symptoms in common with exophthalmic goitre, and in all prob- ability the vast majority of these patients are subjects of either an aberrant or a true form of Graves's disease. *' Goitre, associated with cardiac and nervous mani- THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES I75 festatlons, has been a problem in armies of the past. . . . Graves's disease is a chronic condition of ' fright, fight, and flight,' as evidenced by the typical picture of perpetual terror in the well developed case (bulging eyes, anxious expression, and trembling of the body)." Epilepsy is a very vague term which does not designate any well-defined disease, but includes, as White says, a series of end results, conditioned by a multiplicity of pathological conditions of the brain. White suggests " the epilepsies " as being a better term than epilepsy. Certain authors consider epilepsy as a neurosis, some as a psychosis. In certain cases it may be very like hysteria and in others like certain psychoses. It might, therefore, be listed between neuroses and psychoses. Ferencz'i says of epilepsy: " Although in epilepsy the physiological is difficult to separate from the psychologi- cal, I may call attention to the fact that epileptics are known to be uncommonly sensitive beings, behind whose submlsslveness frightful rage and domineerlngness can appear on the least occasion. This characteristic has been, up to the present, Interpreted as a secondary de- ■ generation due to repeated attacks. The epileptic at- tacks might be considered on the other hand as regres- sion to the infantile period of wish fulfilment by means of uncoordinated movements. Epileptics would then be persons with whom the disagreeable affects get heaped up and are periodically abreacted in paroxysms. Irra- tional stamping of the foot, clenching of fists and grind- ing of teeth, seen in outbursts of anger, may be a milder form of the same regression in otherwise healthy per- sons." We are reminded of Dostoyevsky, who at the age of 176 PSYCHOANALYSIS 17 wrote to his brother Michel, " There is no way out of my difficulties. I have a plan. I am going to be- come insane." And he became an epileptic. A descrip- tion of his " fits " shows abundantly that the ecstatic feel- ings he experienced at such times were indeed a valuable compensation for whatever misery he may have otherwise suffered. Adler has expressed in a very clear way the difference between neuroses and psychoses. " Longing for an un- attainable ideal is at the bottom of both. Defeat or fear of defeat causes the weaker individual to seek a sub- stitute for his real goal. Af this point begins the pro- cess of psychic transformation designated as a neurosis. In the neurosis, the pursuit of the fictitious goal does not lead to an open conflict with reality, the neurotic simply considering reality as a very disturbing element, as he does in neurasthenia, hypochondria, anxiety, compulsion neurosis and hysteria. In the psychosis, the guiding mas- culine fiction appears disguised in pictures and symbols of Infantile origin. The patient no longer acts as though he wished to be masculine, to be above, but as though he had already attained those ends." In other words the neurotic Is grieved by not being all- powerful, by not being gratified, by not being Caesar or Napoleon, the psychotic is Caesar or Napoleon and tries to force his environment to share his belief. Freud has brought out that the psychoses, hallucina- tions and delusions can be divided into overpowering psychoses and defense psychoses. The former are those in which the unconscious has absolutely overpowered the conscious: Thus a girl, in vain awaiting her lover, sud- denly Imagined she was with him and lived In that way THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 77 for two months. The defense psychoses are close to hysteria, but there is a great difference : while in hysteria there is a great amount of free floating libido which at- taches itself to exterior objects, in defense psychoses, it seems to fasten itself to the ego and leads to delusions of greatness. Jung's painstaking analysis of every symp- tom manifested by schizophrenic dements shows that there again we find the same conflict between a repressed desire and the repression. The apparently absurd symp- toms of schizophrenia prove to be symbolic figures of intelligible and important trains of thought and impulse. We shall describe briefly, in White's words, the symp- toms of Paranoia, Manic-depressive psychosis and Schizo- prenia. The word paranoia indicates, etymologically, thinking which is " beside itself." Certain authors use the word to designate acute, confused thinking, others to designate a group of disturbances characterised by chronic delu- sions. Paranoia is closely related to ego complexes. Ideas of self-importance dominate. At first the subject may withdraw into himself, be touchy. Imagine that other people treat him in a peculiar way, then come delusions of persecution and, finally, either voices tell him he is a great personage, or from the number of his persecutors, he concludes that he is indeed extremely important, a great inventor, a powerful personage, sometimes that he is loved by important women. Freud thinks that in paranoia there has been a fixation in some portion of the homosexual period of development, the stage of narcism and a regression of the repressed homosexuality to nar- cism. Manic-depressive psychosis is characterised by more 178 PSYCHOANALYSIS or less durable periods of agitation, followed by other periods of depression and melancholia. The agitation is a defense-mechanism. The patient covers every avenue of approach that might touch his sore spot, his complex, and rushes wildly from one source of danger to the other, meanwhile keeping up a stream of diverting activities. His failure to deal with the difficulty is expressed by the depression which follows the agitated period. The de- fenses have broken down and the patient is overwhelmed by a sense of his moral turpitude. Sexual curiosity cre- ates a sense of sin which tortures the patient. At other times he may have a delusion of great power, wealth and happiness. Schizophrenia is called also dementia praecox because it is often a disease of puberty and adolescence. Worry about sexual problems which appear too difficult of solution, worry about life problems, lack of self-suf- ficiency, lead the individual to abandon all solutions or to seek an abnormal one. There is frequently a tendency to a splitting of the mind. Two continuous streams of thought flow side by side, unable to come to a compromise. Negatism results, which is one way of solving the patient's conflicts by not acting or by performing opposite things at the same time, laughing when pain should be expressed, weep- ing when joy would be expected. Schizophrenia is the result of defective adjustment of some kind. A young woman, having made a failure of her life as a wife and mother, may settle into a stage of regression at the mental level of a little girl of twelve, henceforth relieved of all responsibilities; a homosexual of the passive type may pretend to be a prize fighter and very virile, etc. THE NEUROSES, EPILEPSIES AND PSYCHOSES 1 79 We shall not devote any space to the many psychoses due to syphilis, senile and arteriosclerotic deterioration, Infection and exhaustion, injuries to the brain, diabetes, thyroidism, etc., and shall refer the readers to White's " Outlines of Psychiatry." Alcoholism is worthy of mention both as a cause and as a symptom of psychosis. According to statistics com- piled In 1903, twelve per cent of the Insane confined In institutions in the United States were directly or Indirectly victims of alcoholic poisoning. White divides drinkers into several types: Those for whom drinking Is the ex- pression, not the cause » of a psychosis; those who drink to drown their troubles and escape reality by dulling their sensorium; weak Individuals who manifest an exaggerated reaction to small doses or are weakened by an operation, arteriosclerosis or senility. Alcohol, White writes, is like fever, a measure of ce- rebral resistance, the unstable, predisposed Individual be- coming Intoxicated more readily than the average. In- ebriety is a neurose, one escape from reality, one form of inefficiency, dependent, Adler believes, upon organic in- feriority. Alcohol, White writes, has been called a stimu- lant because the individual who Is unable to meet reality tries to give the best possible reason for drinking, namely that It would help him to meet reality. The result of that neurose is a variety of psychoses which, when ana- lyzed, lead back to the IndivIduaFs Inability to face his life problems. The same can be said of psychoses due to the use of opium and cocaine. The drug addict also tries to escape from reality and his habit may in time create a severe psychose. l8o PSYCHOANALYSIS Clarke sees a certain connection between alcoholism and homosexuality: " Can it be merely chance that men so much enjoy being among themselves and drinking together, sometimes roughly, sometimes in more refined manner? There seems to be an invisible force that drags a man from his comfortable home and loyal family to the public house — it even drags him out of bed sometimes. What lies, what fabrications, what machinations must he employ to gain this end. The healthy man has a distaste for tenderness between man and man, but alcohol dissolves this repug- nance. Men drink, fall on one another's necks, feel themselves united by an inner bond and weep. In a word, their behavior is womanish. Every drinking bout has a touch of homosexuality. The homosexual com- ponent which we are taught to repress comes through clearly under alcohol. It is known that delirium is ac- companied by fear and fear hallucinations. The patient is frightened by men who make all sorts of attacks upon him. This can only be a projection. Why does the alco- holic deliriant always see certain animals which are well known as sex symbols in general, and especially, when seen by man, as showing homosexual designs? The lizards, snakes, and mice that surround him are clear enough." CHAPTER XVI PERVERSIONS " The repressed, introverted types of personalities," Kempf writes, "have a common characteristic; namely, through the consistent pressure often unwittingly exerted upon them by their intimate associates (family, teachers,, masters, mates) they have become influenced to repress their affective cravings from seeking those healthful, con- structive outlets which constitute the behavior of normal people. Their sexual cravings have thereby become forced to seek gratification through means which are per- verse. . . . Such vicious, alternative circles, destroying the confidence of the individual's associates, lead to per- nicious, affective isolation, which, sooner or later, makes the individual notoriously eccentric . . . and his sexual cravings, overcoming the depressed wishes for social es- teem, become uncontrollable. So soon as the individual loses hope, becomes convinced that his goal or ideal is utterly impossible, the sexual cravings revert back to a more simple, preadolescent or infantile, socially more per- verse level." Such is, generally speaking, the genesis of every perversion. We shall mention first homosexualism, or love for per- sons of the same sex. We do not include among perverse homosexuals all the individuals, male or female, who seem to be equally at- i8i l82 PSYCHOANALYSIS tracted by both sexes, men who can be aroused by men as well as by women, women who can be aroused by women as well as by men. Those abnormal persons should be known as bisexuals. They may be representatives of a third sex or inter- mediate sex, and in a way correspond mentally to the physically abnormal human beings called hermaphrodites, who possess the genitals of both sexes. Many animals, especially the primates, are bisexually disposed, and while that tendency may correspond to some faulty differentiation at some period of animal life, it seems to be congenital and not acquired. Certain past civilizations admitted bisexualism. Among the Greeks, there were men of the highest intel- lectual achievements, Plato, Socrates, Alcibiades and others, who were addicted to that form of gratification, as can be proved by the unexpurgated editions of Plato s dialogues and the school regulations of the classic Greek age. According to the scanty information we have on the subject, it was not the masculine appearance of a boy which made him attractive to more mature men, but on the contrary his feminine traits and features, his mental make-up, his shyness, his need for instruction and help. As soon as boys became men they ceased to be the objects of desire. Some details of the Greek family life might explain In part that form of perversion. The fact that women were confined In Oriental fashion in the gyneceum with their young children, placed those children outside of man's In- fluence for many years. At the same time, that condition, when met with in modern life, gives rise to one distinct PERVERSIONS 1 83 form of homosexualism rather than to bisexuallsm. From all accounts, men like Plato were perfectly manly and not as one-sided sexually as the average homosexual. This is a problem which will have to be solved through a collaboration of analysts and hellenists. Painful as the conflict may be in the child's unconscious at the time when the great choice of puberty has to be made, the presence of both parents in the home seems to be an essential condition of sexual normality in the child. In fact it would seem as though the very conflict involved therein were necessary to liberate many dormant possibili- ties in the child's make-up. The child suffers when free- ing himself physically and mentally from his parents' bondage, but that suffering is amply compensated for in later life by the richer emotional life the adult enjoys. Children abandoned at an early age, and brought up in institutions, show, barring exceptions, an appalling mental, intellectual and sentimental poverty. Many of their natural abilities are frozen up by the cold indiffer- ence of their environment. The child's ego needs for a few years the uncritical adoration of a worshipping mother, lacking which the child will not reach a health- fully rounded maturity. Great care must be exercised, however, to wean the child mentally as well as physically, or the normal differ- entiation of puberty will not be complete. Faulty differentiation will produce either passive or active homosexuals. Ferenczi has suggested the words object-homosexual and subject-homosexual to designate the two types. The passive type among men constitutes the real invert. Such a man in his relations with other men thinks of him- 1 84 PSYCHOANALYSIS self as being a woman and this attitude holds not only in sexual intercourse but in all situations in life. The active (male) type, on the contrary, feels himself a man in every respect and may be extremely energetic and virile in appearance. The passive homosexual is attracted by more mature, powerful men and can have friendly relations with women, just as a woman would. The active homosexual, on the contrary. Is generally attracted by young, feminine-looking men, and has only scorn, if not hatred, for all women. The passive homosexual lacks the sexual overestima- tion which, according to Freud, is the characteristic of masculine love; he is only mildly passionate and enjoys adulation and praise of his physical appearance. The active homosexual overestimates his love object, and changes the object of his affections frequently, being constantly troubled by the unsuccessful pursuit of some ideal. Both types, especially when they happen to be refined and cultivated and, hence, subject to strong inhibitions, are tortured by their conscience. Unable to realize the involuntary nature of their perversion, they are prone to inflict upon themselves all forms of self-reproach and not infrequently mutilate themselves. The active type is led more surely to a neurose, as his cravings are stronger and never properly gratified. Let us now study the genesis of those two types, un- conscious victims of their childhood environment. The majority of passive homosexuals come from the ranks of children who were brought up by a widowed PERVERSIONS 1 85 mother or by a woman who was abandoned either before or soon after her child was born. The training a child receives at the hands of a lone woman is purely feminine. No father being present there is not even a spark of that jealousy which might awaken sexual feelings of the normal type in the child. The boy, alone with his mother, identifies himself with her, for she is the only adult he can imitate. His attitude to men and women is purely feminine. All his impres- sions of men are his mother's impressions. He is trained to appreciate in men whatever might attract a female, be it mental or physical. Unless his mother is homosexual, he is never led to appreciate feminine attractions, the voluptuous qualities of a female body. On the contrary, sexual competition will cause his mother to disparage attractive women, and he will copy her attitude in this respect as well as In others. It is tragic to think that the only salvation for a boy in this position would be a homo- sexual mother. If the widowed mother was deeply attached to her dead husband, the situation is even worse. Not only will the child be attracted by men in general, following his mother's example, but he will be trained to revere and worship the image of his dead father, and that reverence and worship will never be corrected by any sexual or ego- tistic jealousy, as it would be in the case of a living father. In certain cases analysis has revealed a different origin for passive homosexualism. Some children are born ef- feminate, with a girlish face and expression, a wealth of blond hair, etc., and these characteristics may cause them to be treated as girls. Some parents will indeed dress I 8 6 PSYCHOANALYSIS up such a boy in a girl's clothes, let his long hair flow down his back and thus prevent his infantile narcism from being gradually repressed. Such a child may iden- tify himself with his mother even to the point of wish- ing for her disappearance so that he might have her clothes, her jewelry and receive the tenderness his father lavishes on her, an inversion of the oedipus complex. One can observe the same results in families when the father is inferior or insignificant, and the son, like his mother, yearns for a strong, virile, man. The same situ- ation, reversed, would produce the same results in girls. Passive homosexualism can then be attributed to the imitation by the child of the wrong parent, that is, the parent of the opposite sex, the mother by a boy, the father by a girl. Such cases make us suspect that most of our mental and intellectual characteristics, and, through them, many physical traits, are due not to heredity but to the influences to which we were submitted in the formative period of our lives. It is through imitation that the child learns to walk, to carry food to its mouth, to speak. It is probably through imitation that it learns to think, to fear, to love, or hate. To quote Kempf: "A young man carries his hands like his father, another walks like his father, an- other holds his head tilted toward one shoulder like his father; a daughter tries to have a deformed finger like her father's, another works the muscles of her cheeks, un- consciously imitating her father; internes in hospitals no- toriously imitate their chiefs of the staff; students wear their clothes, hats, carry their bodies, facial expression, accent their words, adopt the characteristic phrases, moral PERVERSIONS 1 87 and social attitudes of their teachers or of older, socially potent students. Postural imitation, in order to develop a personality like the hero's, is the eternal effort of the hero-worshipper. Children learn to spit like others, laugh like their playmates, cut their fingers, injure them- selves, tear and soil their clothing and adopt countless artifices to be like their associates. The influence of asso- ciates upon the personality is a physiological mechanism and occurs unconsciously, or at least begins unconsciously." Active or object-homosexuals are the victims of a differ- ent process. They generally were sexually precocious children with a greatly developed curiosity touching sex- ual matters. In their craving for knowledge, left un- satisfied by old-fashioned parents, they create a number of infantile theories regarding sex, pregnancy and birth. Their curiosity leads them to develop their anal erotism and coprophilia and may cause them to investigate the body of their mother or of little girl playmates. Gen- erally punished with severity for such indecencies they withdraw entirely from their mother and from all women and, through overcorrection of their original tendency, go to the other extreme and consort exclusively with men, with whom they play the active part of the lover. At the time of puberty, when the sexual instinct reaches its highest point, the active homosexual's desire may turn again toward normal, heterosexual satisfaction, but the slightest reproval or censure following that satisfaction may re-awaken the former fear of women and throw him back into abnormal paths. Active homosexualism appears, then, in the light of a double form of abnormal compensation. The boy obeys his father's warning against early intercourse with women 1 88 PSYCHOANALYSIS and derives a certain masochistic pleasure from that pri- vation, indulging his normal impulses in unconscious phan- tasies; on the other hand, his abnormal practices, which in many cases are shown to be charged with sadism, malice and revenge, carry out the unconscious Oedipus wishes by visiting degradation on a man, Ferenczi mentions the case of a man who every time he was subjected to some humiliation, sought a male prostitute. Thus are united, in a strange combination, the flight from women, their symbolic replacement, hatred of men and compensation for that hatred. Active homosexualism is then both a perversion and a neurosis negativing a perversion. Onanism is the lingering on an infantile and childish level, or a neurotic regression to that level. Onanism in early infancy and puberty seems to be a perfectly normal development. In fact, as we shall see later, the absence of it at those two periods of man's life probably indicates deficient sexuality, for it is generally followed by impotence in later life. When a child does not gradually abandon the exagger- ated egotism which characterises certain years of infancy, when he is unable or unwilling (because unable) to adapt himself to the social arrangements which dominate the adult's world, and which compel us to sacrifice a certain amount of our desires, to brook many delays in their satis- faction, and to be satisfied with love-objects very inferior to our ideals, he is likely to remain an onanist. That form of sexual gratification is principally an ab- normal compensation for unsatisfied ego cravings. As White states, it Is an auto-erotic effort at gaining omnipo- PERVERSIONS 1 89 tence, at being self-sufficient, in the sense of not having to go beyond one's own body for satisfaction. In certain cases, especially in timid individuals, onanism Is an unconscious outcropping of the self-protection urge, which has overpowered and partly repressed the pleasure urge. In other cases it is a compensation for defeat in life. Many neurotics masturbate as others would drink, in order to find consolation for their failure In life. Jung cites the case of a woman who Indulged in badly concealed onanism after the death of her child. Both forms of compensation are infantile, for the drinker after all re- verts symbolically to his mother's breast, where he se- cured a soothing beverage that Induced sleep. Onanism may produce, besides neurasthenia, frigidity in the woman, impotence or premature ejaculation in the man. The inaccessibility of many women without a some- times protracted courtship, the inferiority of most women, however attractive they may be, to the Ideal beauties which people the onanist's fancies. In women, the fear of consequences, may well cause impotence and frigidity. The delays attendant upon bl-sexual satisfaction, the physical disappointment which threatens the man who has indulged in too many onanlstic fancies, are likely to cre- ate In man the disturbance known as premature ejacula- tion. Impotence, however, may be due to other causes, most of them childhood memories. Male psychosexual impotence Is always a single mani- festation of a psychoneurose, and accords with Freud's conception of psychoneurotic symptoms. It Is the syp=>- 190 PSYCHOANALYSIS bolic expression of repressed memory-traces of sexual experiences, of unconscious wishes striving for the repeti- tion of those experiences and of the mental conflicts thus generated. An incestuous desire for one's mother or sister may later cause impotence when the patient identi- fies his wife with his mother or sister. The sexual inhibi- tion is then the work of the self-protection urge (censor) which prevents us from performing acts, which, even in their symbolic form, are incompatible with modern ethical customs. A child severely punished for indecent acts per- formed with little girls may be so affected by the feeling of shame thus aroused that impotence may result. Exhibitionism, which is the form of gratification ex- perienced in displaying one's genitals, does not, accord- ing to Adler, originate from a congenital sexual consti- tution. " The neurosis which seeks to secure the ego-con- sciousness is impelled to suppress the feeling of inferiority, to overcome it, because, in this neurosis, the lively desire to be a complete man, to be of great account, finds expres- sion. The feminine, exaggerated modesty of such pa- tients is an expedient in the opposite direction for the pur- pose of deceiving concerning the lack of masculinity. On the contrary, the absence of modesty points invariably to disquieting dreams or thoughts concerning curtailed genital organs. The inclination to disarm the partner, to feel constantly the assurance of superiority which regu- larly constitutes the content of exhibitionism, are often met with." Both exhibitionists and voyeurs (persons who attain gratification by looking at sexual objects), may in certain cases show some organic weakness. The accentuated auto-erotic trait of the enuretic, for instance, and his PERVERSIONS I9I constant interest In his sexual life may develop his curi- osity for the sexual organs of other persons. Sadism, that is, the enhancement of sexual pleasure by the sight or infliction of pain, real or simulated, has, according to White, a symbolic significance. As the male is normally active and aggressive In the sexual relation, sadism is found mostly among men and female active homosexuals. It is an attempt on the part of the male neurotic to affirm his masculine superiority, and on the part of the female neurotic to express her masculine protest. Very often strong repression exerted by the individual may develop in him sadistic instincts which reveal them- selves through activities of a religious or reformist turn. As White says in his " Outlines of Psychiatry," " a person who is in serious danger from alcohol may become so rabid on the subject, that he cannot consider any angle of the question calmly. His conduct is conditioned by his complex, though he may have no conscious idea that such is the case, but rather think that he is advocating a temperance platform in an altogether normal way, without ulterior motive." The same applies to many vice-hunting societies whose members suppress works of art or books of fiction which touch their unconscious complexes. Passages which the normal man would simply call realistic arouse fiercely in them the passions they have succeeded in repressing but not in suppressing, and which are struggling for expres- sion. In self-protection they destroy the offensive stimu- lus and their resentment for the unpleasant arousing of their complexes causes them often to seek ruthless punish- ment for the perfectly normal persons who either pro- 192 PSYCHOANALYSIS duced the offending stimulus or have It in their possession. They derive a great deal of compensation for the non- satisfaction of their repressed desires from the standing which the community and the courts in Anglo-Saxon na- tions have thus far granted them. Like other neurotics they are generally honest and moral, but they are un- consciously oversexed. The ascetics of the Middle Ages who scourged and flagellated themselves to " kill " their flesh were precisely those whom " the devil " tempted most sorely. The great anchorites, St. Anthony and oth- ers, were submitted to terrible temptations, that is, suf- fered delusions of an erotic character, In the course of which they witnessed all the possible sexual manifesta- tions, normal, abnormal, homosexual and bestial. Puri- tanism, aiming at the destruction of woman's attraction may reveal a homosexual trend. Masochism is the enchancement of sexual pleasure by suffering, self-inflicted or inflicted by another person. Freudians have explained that attitude by identification of the child with the mother, who during the sexual act, as misunderstood by children, seems to suffer pain and at the same time feel gratification while being overpowered. Fetichism is sexual gratification secured by seeing or touching a special part of the body or piece of wearing apparel symbolizing a part of the body; hair and ankles are the parts of the body around which the greatest amount of fetichism centers. Inanimate fetishes such as handkerchiefs, shoes, petticoats are the most common. Necrophilia, or desire to have sexual congress with a dead body, is based upon the most inordinate sense of in- feriority and unconscious fear of the sexual partner. PERVERSIONS I93 Bestiality or sexual gratification with animals Is due to the same unconscious reason. Freud has said aptly that a neurosis is the negative of a perversion. The neurosis, as we have seen in Chapter XV can be traced to the repression of certain strivings. The perversion, on the contrary, is due to the compulsive development of partial impulses. This is well illustrated by the following case cited by Brill: " Some years ago a patient was referred to me be- cause of serious difficulties with his eyes. He had been treated for years by many oculists who finally told him that he was suffering from a nervous affection. He was in constant fear of becoming blind. Now it would be quite impossible to give the analysis of this interesting patient who has been well for over two years. His neu- rosis was the negative of the perversion. In fact he was constantly fluctuating between his neurosis and his per- version. He either spent his time as a voyeur, or in- dulged In the most extravagant fancies of sexual exhibi- tionism, or he feared blindness. But the neurosis was formed on the basis of sexual looking which Is a part of the impulse and perfectly normal within normal limits." CHAPTER XVII CRIME AND PUNISHMENT Psychoanalysis has not occupied Itself much with crime or its punishment, nor have those who deal with criniinals given much attention to psychoanalytic re- search. And yet, from the observations gathered by a few psychiatrists on the mental condition of the inmates of reformatories, workhouses, penitentiaries and other penal institutions, one easily derives the impression that crime is a symptom of mental disease, whether the indi- vidual who commits the crime is a so-called habitual crim- inal or one who yielded once to some irresistible prompt- ing. At the present day, no intelligent picture of the defen- dant's mind is ever presented to the trial court. The courts are not provided with physicians, nor is there any body of experts to gather, sift and present scientifically the information upon which the court's opinion should be based. As Burdette Lewis states, " the detention prison physician is usually overworked, underpaid and poorly prepared to discharge all the duties with which he is burdened by modern conditions." Medical colleges are only beginning to include in their curriculum courses in psychopathology, but no law school has ever thought of imparting to its pupils the sort of psychological information which would enable district 194 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 195 attorneys, judges and counsel to treat defendants fairly and intelligently. The majority of crimes being admittedly crimes against property, crime may be considered as an abnormal forrr. of compensation for repressed ego promptings. The criminal seeks power, and being, as Lewis says, " usu- ally deficient in imagination," tries to acquire by stealth or violence what to primitive minds symbolizes power: money. His deficient imagination prevents him from estimating accurately the consequences of his action and foreseeing the lasting ego repression likely to follow upon a short-lived ego gratification. Compared with the number of crimes prompted by a craving for power the number of sexual crimes is insig- nificant. A strict Freudian might suggest, of course, that one of the things criminals usually purchase with the money they acquire is sexual gratification and that not a few crimes have been committed by sex-crazed men, anxious to win the favor of some woman. Whatever their crime may give them, however, is at best a symbol of the power they seek. Most criminals seek power because they are inferior mentally or physi- cally, or both, and they cannot expect to achieve success through plodding along in some definite line of common- place work. Their inferiority causes them to expect de- feat in life's battle. Uncertainty, fear of the future, drive them to quick, rash action in the fulfilment of their desire for power. The committing of the crime itself, not only constitutes a wish fulfilment, but offers the crim- inal compensation for his feeling of inferiority. The criminal deed, be it one that requires skill or one that re- quires strength, raises the criminal in his own estimation. 196 PSYCHOANALYSIS The theory of a criminal class or of inherited criminal tendencies has been abandoned by all up-to-date writers on the subject. After examining one thousand criminals Dr. Edith R. Spaulding and Dr. William Healy have characterised that theory as " an unsubstantiated meta- physical hypothesis." We may also discard StekeFs state- ment that every neurotic is a potential criminal. Of course many pyromaniacs, for instance, are neu- rotics, and many neurotics may be said to stand on the verge of criminality. Few of them, however, yield to the temptation. In fact, the onset of a neurosis indicates that the individual is abandoning an aggressive attitude for a more social one and repressing his urges. Many compulsion neurotics turn from their sadist urg- ings to reassuring measures or penance measures. They often over-compensate by developing leanings toward anti- vivisectionism, vegetarianism for humane reasons, pre- vention of cruelty to animals, ostentatious charity, at the same time showing little tolerance for their opponents and glorying in the sentences imposed upon them. The neurotic does not become a criminal; he becomes an unconscious tyrant. Through the Imaginings of an accentuated conscience and an exaggerated feeling of guilt, the neurotic, craving for power, abandons the straight path of aggression and conquest. He tyrannizes over others and tortures them often after torturing him- self. Conscience, developed by the self-protection urge, exaggerates the self-valuation as a protective measure, and is deified by the neurotic as a means of inflicting suf- fering on others. When everything falls, he may ransack his memory for acts which prove him kind and affectionate and for acts CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 1 97 which may, for instance, prove his sexual partner hard and selfish. This, of course, requires an amount of im- agination, conscious or unconscious, which the ordinary criminal does not possess. The neurotic considers reality as a disturbing element and an insurmountable obstacle. The criminal, being a silly romanticist, believes, much as the schisophrenic does, that his fictitious life can be lived without interference from the world of reality. The criminal's lack of imagination makes it the more preposterous to expect from him the mental readjustment implied by those who speak of expiation. The vocabu- lary of the underworld is enough to enlighten us as to the mental processes of the average lawbreaker. The crim- inal who falls into the clutches of the police is " in trou- ble " or " down on his luck." There is not in him the sense of guilt which prevents the neurotic from committing any overt acts likely to bring retaliation on the part of society. " How discouraging it is," White writes, " to hear a magistrate read a sermon on morality to some degraded wretch who has been found guilty of some perhaps, minor offence, and then send him to prison. . . . The criminal act which finally leads to a prison sentence is but the out- come of a life of distorted viewpoints, of standards of conduct turned and twisted out of all semblance to those with which we are familiar, and to expect that the natural product of such conditions can be metamorphosed by a three-minute sermon displays a profound ignorance of human beings." For the human material from which criminals come is indeed very poor, mentally and physically. In his re- port on school attendance. Dr. I. H. Goldberger stated 198 PSYCHOANALYSIS among other things that all truants have a higher blood pressure than normal children of the same age. Accord- ing to Lewis, out of 1425 inmates of the New York work-house, examined in 19 14, 35 were unable to work owing to physical disability, between fifty and a hundred per cent of the children held in institutions had bad teeth and eighty per cent of the women committed to the work- house were suffering from local or contagious diseases. An investigation of one hundred criminals committed to the Indiana State prison revealed that 12 were insane, 23 feeble minded, 38 constitutionally inferior, 17 psychotics and 10 epileptics. And it may be that many of those men and women, espe- cially if they were paranoiacs, would, when brought into court, give the impression of being perfectly sane, some of them showing the superficial cleverness and brilliancy of paranoia. Only trained observers would realize how absurd all their mental operations were. For criminals, like neurotics and psychotics, seldom know how to use their minds. They are dominated en- tirely by their ego and their sex urge and thus far we have devised nothing better than consigning them to a place where the existence of the sexual need is denied and where prisoners lose their identity. Not only will the criminal not " expiate " his crime, but after a few months or years, a psychosis will probably de- feat society's plans for his punishment. Some mental de- rangement will cause him to consider himself as a victim, railroaded to jail through a conspiracy, pardoned but held unlawfully by wicked guardians. When that stage is reached, the statements made by well-meaning but ignorant moralists on the subject of CRIME AND PUNISHMENT I99 expiation and redemption appear gruesomely farcical. For the more severe the punishment inflicted, the more complete the compensation afforded by insanity. Longard, in his " Geisteskrankheiten bei Gefangenen," states emphatically that solitary confinement is the most frequent cause of the psychoses which compensate the offender for his lost freedom. Enforced silence is generally compensated for by hal- lucinations of an auditory character, voices which in that silence speak to the prisoner, and by manic outbursts which enable the prisoner to chatter or howl to his heart's content. Being insane, he can no longer be subjected to the punishment provided by the prison's disciplinary rules. Those who administer justice and punishment should ponder what Rijdin wrote in his " Clinical Forms of Men- tal Disturbances in Life Prisoners " : " The prisoner carries on a stubborn, continuous, conscious and uncon- scious struggle against the effects which the murder has upon his conscience and fate. At first he is still uncertain, but always succumbs again and again to those abnormal expressions of mental and physical torpidity which so fre- quently develop in connection with powerful psychogenic stimuli, and finally finds his equilibrium through incessant brooding and unconscious repression of all the factors which oppress his conscience. " Thus he succeeds with full conviction to replace actual occurrences with a tissue of delusional ideas, in which he is no longer a justly punished criminal but an innocently persecuted individual. This sort of individual might have never come into contact with a psychiatrist had he not been given a sentence." A study of prison psychoses convinces one that Impris- 200 PSYCHOANALYSIS onment can only make a man worse physically and men- tally, and that what is needed is not punishment but educa- tion. A few hundred years ago the insane man was treated as a criminal. In a hundred years every criminal will be treated as a diseased man. CHAPTER XVIII THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT From what has been said in the previous chapters the reader has probably gathered the impression that the field of psychoanalytic treatment was rather limited. The number of physical symptoms which may be produced by unconscious ideas is rather large. Kempf, in " The Autonomic Functions and the Personality," mentions among the derangements caused by the repression of in- tense affections, loss of appetite, gastric irritability, ten- dency to nausea and vomiting, diarrhoea, dyspnea, head- aches, cardiac palpitation, blushing, disturbances of the menses, insomnia, general hypochondriacal complaints, ec- centric physical attitudes, and long, enduring, gross, psychoneurotic derangements. White writes in his " Principles of Mental Hygiene " : " The number and duration of physical and apparently physical disorders which may originate at the psychologi- cal level is endless. It includes many forms of asthma, sore throat, difficult nasal breathing, stammering, head- ache, neurasthenia, backache, tender spine, ' weak heart,' faint attacks, exophthalmic goitre (Graves's or Basedow's disease), aphonia, spasmodic sneezing, hiccough, rapid respiration, h^y fever, gastro-intestinal disturbances, (constipation, uiarrhoea, indigestion, colitis, ulcer of stomach), ptosis of kidney, diabetes, disturbances of uri- nation, polyuria, incontinence, precipitancy, (menstrual aoi 202 PSYCHOANALYSIS disorders, auto-Intoxication (from long digestive disturb- ance), nutritional disorders of skin, teeth and hair, etc." But while all those disturbances may be psychogenic, no analyst would at the present day state that they are always psychogenic. The psychoanalyst never assumes the attitude of the Christian Scientist or of the New Thoughter. Psycho- analysis does not deny or even minimize the importance of medicine or surgery. The analyst only begins his work when the physician declares himself unable to allay the symptoms by any known medical means. In other words, psychoanalysis does not attempt to treat any physical dis- turbance whose origin has been declared physical. It does not treat pneumonia, typhoid or scarlet fever, any more than it would broken limbs. While a few psychotics have been improved by the psychoanalytic treatment, analysts generally confine them- selves to the treatment of neurotics, and here again a sci- entifically conservative attitude has to be observed. The very young and the very old cannot be analyzed. The young lack the necessary concentration, the old lack the necessary plasticity. Idiots and feeble-minded peo- ple, patients In a highly excited condition can receive no help at the hands of an analyst. Dr. Jelliffe warns analysts against treating homosexual types who are likely to gossip about the analyst and call him a fakir or a quack. Hysterical young girls arc equally dangerous. Idle sensation-seekers who go from analyst to analyst, expecting to be amused or to be offered psychological excuses for sexual licence, must be avoided. Either they THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 203 seek the latest cure for the sake of " making conversa- tion " and soon lose their interest, the analytic method appearing to them too tedious, or they come with a cow- ardly intent. Unsatisfied wives would gl'adly unburden themselves of the responsibility of taking a lover. Hus- bands suffering from " psychic impotence " with their wives, would like to be given " ethical " reasons for con- sorting with prostitutes. In a word, the type of patient to be treated is the serious-minded person of at least average intelligence and culture, who is normal and clearminded enough to feel that his or her mental activities are not absolutely as sat- isfactory as they should be, and who of his own volition decides to seek advice and help, or to whom physicians and specialists have stated that a certain physical complaint is probably due to a mental cause. A word must be said here on the question as to whether analysts should of necessity be physicians. Freud in his introduction to a book by Oskar Pfister (a lay analyst) has answered it as follows : *' It may be asked whether the practice of psychoanaly- sis does not presuppose a medical education or whether other relations are not antagonistic to the purpose of placing the psychoanalytic technique in other than medical hands. I confess that I see no such obstacles. " The practice of psychoanalysis demands not so much medical education as psychological education and free hu- man insight. The majority of physicians are not fitted for the practice of psychoanalysis and have completely failed in placing a correct valuation on this method of treatment." The great Swedish analyst, Dr. Poul Bjerre, who like 204 PSYCHOANALYSIS Freud was a medical practitioner before he specialized In analysis, writes: " Unfortunately the doctor, because of the strong ma- terial features Incident to his whole education, has diffi- culty in estimating psychic factors at their full value; be- sides, how is he to give himself time to hear everything a patient has to tell? His time is already full of things which more directly fall into his sphere of action. Inti- mate conversation is to him always something incidental." The question of time raised by Dr. Bjerre is indeed Important, While the average physician may see be- tween three and six patients in the course of an hour at his office, analyst and patient should be closeted together away from all disturbances for about one hour at a time. Besides, the analyst must spend a certain amount of time going over the notes which he must constantly take in the course of an analysis, If he is to follow closely the psychological development of his various patients. He must never rely on his memory, for his personal prejudices and idiosyncrasies are likely to distort his reminiscences. The beginning of the analysis Is of crucial Importance. The very first sentence spoken by the subject In explain- ing'his trouble generally is the key to the entire situation. The first Impression made by the analyst may establish from the first minute the relationship upon which the suc- cess of the analysis depends to a certain extent. Certain analysts believe In taking first the subject's history In every detail and then for several hours letting the patient's mind wander over any subjects he may care to talk about, gradually securing a mental picture of the subject. THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 205 This method is the best with highly cultivated patients to whom money considerations are secondary. To a large number of patients, however, it may ap- pear, unjustly, too slow and too expensive. Suspicious patients, in restricted circumstances, may feel that the analyst is causing them unnecessary expense and should reach his goal by a shorter road. In the case of patients whose mentality and culture are not of the highest type, the analyst, by merely listening to the recital of experiences, some of which may be highly distorted or " colored," exposes himself to the suspicion of gullibility and lack of psychological insight. The pa- tient, intent on presenting his case in the most favorable light, and conscious of a certain dishonesty, is bound to resent the analyst's attitude, which he attributes to gullibil- ity. " If I can fool him so easily, how can he help me mentally? " At the same time any expression of disbelief in the pa- tient's statements would create at once a very hostile feel- ing which it would take time to remove. A sneering patient and an Insulted patient are very bad subjects for analytic study. Certain patients are on their guard against the analyst. They consciously wish to be rid of a neurosis. Uncon- sciously, however, that neurosis may be their most valu- able possession and they will do their utmost " uncon- sciously " to defeat his efforts. Remember Dostoyev- sky's letter to his brother in which he expressed his de- termination to become insane in order to solve his diffi- culties. To this type of patient the analyst Is the worst enemy. The solution in such cases consists in resorting to im- 206 PSYCHOANALYSIS personal, mechanical means for probing the subject's mind, without asking any questions; even as a physician will take a patient's temperature, pulse and respiration, and without having asked even one question will know positively whether certain physical disturbances are pres- ent or absent. An hour should be spent listening to the patient's story. In the next hour a rapid study of the patient's reactions to stimulus-words should be made. The mental picture thus obtained will be an excellent guide in future prospecting operations and will often en- able the analyst to make statements which will impress the suspicious patient with the idea that his lies, conscious or semi-conscious, will be received only at a great discount. Puritanical patients, secretive or dishonest as regards their sex life, may be, gently but firmly, led to a more trusting attitude when a study of their reactions reveals strong sexual desires or suffering due to their lack of gratification. Certain analysts examine the patient while he Is reclin- ing on a couch, his eyes closed. They seat themselves at the head of the couch. This position has great advan- tages from the point of view of complete relaxation of all muscles, but It makes a study of the facial expression difficult; the arms and hands resting on the couch no longer perform certain gestures which reveal many emo- tions, the shrugging of shoulders and other defence mo- tions are impossible, and finally, to certain hysterical women, the position carries a certain sexual sugges- tion. The substitution of a wide, soft, comfortable armchair THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 207 for a couch facilitates the study of facial expression, does not impede the play of muscles in hands and arms, leaves the shoulders and head free for action. The patient is then asked to remain very quiet for a minute or so, possibly to count mentally from one to a hundred and then he is asked to tell the analyst the first thing that comes to his mind when specially selected stim- ulus-words are read aloud to hint. He is cautioned against exercising any critical judg- ment on his own answers, and to tell at once whatever he happens to think of, be it a name, a color, a number, a person, an adjective, an Image or whatever else may ap- pear in his field of mental vision. The experiment may be repeated under varying condi- tions, the patient being allowed the second time to keep his eyes open, and thereby to be Influenced by visual stimuli. A monotonous phonograph record or the tick- ing of a metronome may be allowed to disturb the patient, thus showing the Influence of outside auditive stimuli. The stimulus words generally employed by analysts were selected by the Zurich analysts. The list follows : 1 head 2 green 3 water 4 to sing 5 dead 6 long 7 ship 8 to pay 9 window 10 friendly 1 1 to cook 12 to ask 13 cold 14 stem 15 to dance 16 village 17 lake 18 sick 19 pride 20 table 21 ink 22 angry 23 needle 24 to swim 25 voyage 26 blue 27 lamp 28 to sin 29 bread 30 rich 208 PSYCHOANALYSIS 31 tree 32 to prick 33 pity 34 yellow 35 mountain 36 to die 37 salt 38 new 39 custom 40 to pray 41 money 42 foolish 43 pamphlet 44 despise 45 finger 46 expensive 47 bird 48 to fall 49 book 50 unjust 51 frog 52 to part 53 hunger 54 white 55 child 56 to take care 57 pencil 58 sad 59 plum 60 to marry 61 house 62 dear 63 glass 64 to quarrel 65 fur big carrot to paint organ old flowers to beat box wild family to wash 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 cow friend 79 luck 80 lie 81 behavior 82 narrow 83 brother 84 to fear 85 love 86 false 87 anxiety 88 to kiss 89 bride 90 pure 91 door 92 to choose 93 hay 94 contented 95 ridicule 96 to sleep 97 month 98 nice 99 woman 100 to abuse An absolutely normal person will give a reaction to each of these stimulus words in about 3 seconds. A decrease in the average reaction-time, for instance if the average reaction-time to the first fifty words should be 3^ seconds and to the last fifty lYz seconds, would indicate a certain display of will-power leading to better concentration. THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 209 The reverse would indicate a mind easily fatigued and easily distracted. When the patient repeats the stimulus-word, he be- trays the fact that the word has very personal import for him. If he repeats it several times, the connotation of the word is lils.ely to be unpleasant or humiliating. He gives himself time to find an answer. If the word is misunderstood or the patient asks the analyst: " V/hat do you mean?" the word has some very painful association. That question, when asked on hearing words like " to fall " or " to sin " has a very ob- vious meaning. The patient is unconsciously hoping he has not heard the right word. Blushing after words, like " to kiss," " sin," " fall," reveals a personal, generally recent experience. If the patient's eyes are cautiously opened and then quickly shut, the analyst may know he has touched a sore spot, and that the patient wants to know what impres- sion his answer has made. Long reaction-time indicates a " complex." In other words, some repressed idea has been awakened by the stimulus-word and the patient's mind has made an effort to give expression to it. Either the idea has come up to the consciousness slowly, or a similar idea, less objectionable, has been substituted for it, and the answer has been thereby delayed. The disturbance caused by touching a complex may spread to the next two or three reaction words. If the reaction time for stimulus word 5 is 45 seconds, the reaction time for stimuli 6 and 7 may be 20 seconds. The stimuH thus affected should be tried several times in order 210 PSYCHOANALYSIS to determine whether their reaction time was unduly lengthened through proximity to a stimulus revealing a complex, or whether they too are connected with some unconscious repressive activity. A patient who, instead of one single word, gives several words in answer to stimulus-words, is giving more than is asked, and may thereby betray a feeling of inferiority or incompleteness. The same answer to several stimulus words Indicates an obsession m the patient. Jung cites a patient of his who answered " short " to several words of the stimulus- list. He had all his life been disturbed over his small stature. The patient who instead of one reaction-word gives "definitions," such as "door: entrance to a house," "plum: a fruit," belongs to the inferior type of intelli- gence that feels compelled to state the obvious. Literary answers, such as, "kiss: a token of love," "mountain: one of nature's wonders," reveal affectation and an effort to appear refined and cultivated. The emotional type generally gives " gushing " an- swers: " flowers: very lovely things," " anxiety: horrible feeling." The egotist will express his own feelings in regard to every word mentioned: " Bread: I like it," " Green: I don't like that color." Patients with a " cussed," contrary, turn of mind, or a tendency to a splitting of the personality will always an- swer with the opposite whenever possible: "Black: white," " short: long." The normal person will give, the same answer several times in succession to the same stimulus-word. THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 211 If the reproduction is faulty, the analyst knows that there is a complex connected with the stimulus-word, the unconscious witholding a direct answer and offering sub- stitutes for what should be the actual reaction. A complex may be indicated as follows : Stimulus- word love Reaction- time 30 sec. Physical reaction laughter Word reaction fields Repro- duction impossible narrow 35 sec. Ugly indifferent When a number of complexes have been found, a sec- ondary list of stimulus-words may be established, taking those complex words as a basis, and a new reaction-test made which enables the analyst to determine the exact lim- its of every complex. A " money " complex might be delimitated by estab- lishing a list that would contain all the words connected with money: earning, spending, saving, giving away, etc. Secondary complexes can be also discovered by that method. The patient is then asked to elaborate upon the complex words. The analyst asks the patient to tell him, not simply the first thing that comes to his mind, but every- thing, regardless of sequence or relevancy. A long pause in the narrative always points to some complex. The gap indicates, according to its size, a large or small amount of painful, repressed material. When the patient stops and says " That's all," the an- alyst's task really begins. By digging right there he is likely to unearth a corpse. The expression " That's all " or "I can't think of anything else " is an unconscious at- tempt at blocking the search when the search is likely to run dangerously close to something hidden. a 12 PSYCHOANALYSIS A patient of mine was unable after 45 seconds to give an answer to the stimulus " tree." Patient cross-examination finally brought to light the fact that at the age of 9 the patient had been terribly- frightened by a man falling from a tree almost at his feet and crushing his skull on a stone. In later life, the patient, who wrote fiction, had only mentioned trees twice in his writings. On those two occasions, trees played a sinister part in the narrative. A " needle " complex led to a curious childhood mem- ory in a young woman of 28. When a very small girl she had cut her chin and a physician had been called to take several stitches to close the wound and the horror caused by the needle in those days has not disappeared 22 years later. A young epileptic who, in early childhood, fell on broken glass and cut himself painfully, reacted with the word " fear " to the stimulus " glass " and this only after 20 seconds. Three examples of elaboration will indicate how this operation revives " dead " memories leading back gen- erally to childhood years. Complexes, indicated by a long reaction-time, were elaborated upon as follows: Neck . . . neck . . . trees ... a pond ... a head- ache . . . drowning sort of feeling , . . blind . . . factory . . . my father worked there . . . playing with children . . . Oh, yes ... a child fell on me ... I was about seven . . . my neck was dislocated; they called my father from the factory and he carried me to the doc- tor ... THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 213 Frog . . . disgust ... I can't think of anything . . . that's all . . . disgust . . . sexual organ . . . loathing . . . something slimy . . . same feeling as a snake . . . when I was a child I was told I shouldn't touch frogs for they gave warts . . . about that time . . . they warned me against masturbation. Die . . . fear . . . maggots ... I used to fear death ... I hate to see dead people ... I am thinking of some girls . . . they came to see another girl that was dead ... a silk cloth ... I lifted it so they could look at her face ... I touched her cold face ... It gave me a terrible shock . . . All the reaction-words and their faulty reproduction stand in close connection to another and are related to the obsessive idea and the emotional complexes responsible for the patient's mental condition. The discrepancies between the first reaction and the fol- lowing reproductions become greater with each examina- tion. The first one is likely to be more truthful than the following ones. The second covers up the sore spot more carefully than the first one. The very order in which words appear in the elabora- tion has a definite meaning. There is no actual disorder in anyone's thoughts, and if certain words are closely as- sociated in the elaboration, they are just as closely asso- ciated in complex or a constellation of complexes. The words " as if " employed by the patient in the elaboration should be taken as the positive affirmation of some fact subjected to a certain amount of repression. *' As if I was doing a certain thing " means " I am do- ing that thing but do not care to say so." 214 PSYCHOANALYSIS The three examples of elaboration I gave above show that by taking the reactions and having the patient elab- orate upon them from the very beginning, the analyst de- rives a good mental picture of the patient and begins the cure at once. Very often the patient makes the following remarks: " I had entirely forgotten that incident," " I have never mentioned it to anyone in 20 years," etc. Most of the things " forgotten " were painful and hence repressed, and likely to create a disturbance by their constant striv- ing for expression. As Freud says somewhere " neu- rotics suffer from reminiscences." Those reminiscences are unconscious. Making them conscious destroys at once their power for harm. Since most phobias are due to gaps in memory which prevent us from connecting cause and effect, filling up the gaps in the patient's memory can- not but be helpful. By this time, the subject, even If he is of the suspicious kind, may have acquired a certain confidence in the an- alyst. There are details of his life, however, concerning which he is likely to be extremely secretive and on which he will volunteer no information except in an indirect way through his reactions, until you break his resistance. Dreams are the royal road into the forbidden lands of ego and sex. Once a patient who showed some reluctance to men- tioning sex-matters brought me the following dream:' " I was helping a man to pack a trunk. When he got through I said to him, ' There is no need for you to go away.' " THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 215 When I told her that according to that dream, her men- struation period would begin about a week from the night when she dreamt of that incident, she realized that dis- simulation would be useless. At the beginning of an analysis a patient is likely not to have any dreams for several nights. This is a form of resistance of the unconscious against possible revelations. The thing to do then is to examine the past dreams which recur most frequently in the patient's life. Dreams reveal to us many complexes, some of them very old and some of them of recent formation. The part which infantile complexes may play and the part which recently created complexes may play in the dis- turbance must not be lightly determined. In the course of the analysis, it may be that the pa- tient will dwell unconsciously on infantile fancies which constitute a convenient scape-goat. The patient may see in his infantile sexuality a good explanation for his present wretchedness, and thus gradually give the impression that those infantile fancies are all-important in his mental make-up. " The neurotic, seeking security, likes to represent his first infantile experiences in a sexual light," Adler says. " I was already as a child so undisciplined, so bad," " My sexual appetite was so strong," " I have such a crim- inal tendency," " I am so much the slave of passion," these Adler writes, " are the echoes in the mind of the neurotic adult. The impulse to hold to appropriate memories, to falsify certain memories and to exaggerate traces of reminiscences arises from a fear of* defeat. When the sexual appetite has been revealed, where the 2 1 6 PSYCHOANALYSIS possibility of Incest really existed, the memory is pre- served as an admonitory sign. That which diverts the neurotic psyche is not memor}' or reminiscence, but the fictitious goal which derives profitable situations there- from." In the dream Adler sees an abstracting, simplifying en- deavor to find, by means of premeditation and testing of difficulties carried on in accordance with the patient's own peculiar scheme, a protective way for the ego-conscious- ness out of a situation which threatens defeat. . One will always find in the dream that significant scheme of the antithetical mode of apperception : mascu- line-feminine, above-beneath, as existing originally in everybody. " The various notions and recollections which come to the surface of the dream, must be brought within the scheme before they can be of any aid in the interpretation of the dream, whose object is not principally the fulfil- ment of infantile wishes, but rather to accompany those introductory endeavors, to bring about a balance in fa- vor of the ego-consciousness, through balancing the pa- tient's debit-credit account In a peculiarly neurotic man- ner." The following aphorisms of Adler's on the subject of dreams should be kept In mind while analyzing every dream: " The dream Is a sketch-like reflection of psychic atti- tudes, and indicates for the Investigator the characteris- tic manner In which the dreamer regards certain prob- lems." " The dream makes use of memory through the hallu- THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 217 cinatory awakening of memories of a fear-exciting and energy-exciting basis." " The content of dreams receives a meaning only when taken as a symbol of life, as an ' as if.' " " Repeated dreams of the same content reveal the fic- titious guiding line. They indicate attempts at several solutions and a characteristic feeling of uncertainty." Maeder has also formulated interesting rules for the interpretation of dreams. *' The dream," he writes, " seeks a satisfying formula for the unconscious condition. It can exercise a really liberating action, which betrays a close relationship to the work of art." Hence, the dream is, to him, a part of the curative process. " Dreams that remain impressed on the memory some- times for years," he says, " are the expression of a clari- fied psychic action. They are milestones in the develop- ment of the personality, which lead the individual to typi- cal life-adjustments or to typical reactions." Upon that basis, Maeder divides dreams into three categories: The active dreams of intense achievement or intense resistance; the static dreams in which there is distinct stagnation and passive resistance; finally, prospec- tive dreams which are not prophetic but which at the crit- ical moment may point out a solution. Considering the gradual development of the problem- presentation in the dream, a characteristic recognized by analysts of all schools, it goes without saying that no dream can be analyzed separately. Nor can every de- tail of a dream be accounted for until the analyst has col- lected patiently a large number of the subject's dreams. ai8 PSYCHOANALYSIS The patient should be instructed to write down his dreams on arising or on waking up in the middle of the night, but should not read them off from his manuscript. He may use the manuscript to refresh his memory, but he should recite his dreams from memory. The very way in which he will relate the action, the points at which he will hesitate, the parts which, when a comparison is instituted between manuscript and narra- tive, were omitted in the narrative, reveal a great many things to a trained observer. Freud says that the so-called disconnected character of dreams and the gaps in them are due to the -fact that the censor has edited bodily entire passages or repressed our memory of them. In fact, Freud thinks that dreams are like the delirium of fever. The delirious patient seems to be rambling aimlessly, but anyone acquainted with his life problems can fill the gaps in his speech and establish a logical se- quence in his apparently absurd utterances. The ab- surdity of delirious talk is due to the fact that the censor repressed many things which the patient would like to say but cannot. The subject should be made to tell several times the same dream. The very discrepancies between the vari- ous narratives will reveal to the analyst complexes and conscious attempts at concealment. Freud states that the analysis could very well start from the weak points contained in the relation of dreams by the patient, as the parts we forget are much more important and therefore submitted to a stronger repres- sion than the parts we remember. THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 219 Certain dreams give interesting revelations of the sub- ject's attitude to the analyst. Jelllffe very modestly cites the case of one of his patients who, after the first hour of analysis, dreamed of a man standing on a balcony and lecturing in Chinese about some Hebrew religion, a sym- bolic criticism of the scientist, who was talking above her head, in a language difficult to understand, about a science created by a Jew. Jelliffe, a conscientious practitioner, took the hint and adopted a much simpler manner when addressing the patient, whom he had credited with much more intelligence than she really had. Certain dreams herald clearly the patient's recovery. A subject of mine had the following dream night after night : A crowd of children was chasing him, throwing stones at him. He tried vainly to escape them and woke up in terror, bathed in perspiration. His recovery was announced by the same dream, taking an entirely different turn. Instead of running away, he faced the crowd, which dwindled to one small boy, whom he spanked, after which he slept soundly. His whole attitude to life was symbolically depicted by that change in his dream-fancy. He no longer tried to escape difficulties by jumping out of his dream or jumping out of life. He faced the crowd and faced life. To what I said in the chapter on Symbols I must add one word of caution. Symbols have no absolute signifi- cance, and it is only after studying carefully many dreams brought by one subject that the analyst can determine what in those dreams is symbolic and what is not. Certain people or things appearing in dreams may be 220 PSYCHOANALYSIS realities instead of symbols. A subject of mine in whose reactions and dreams the color red played an important part revealed through close examination that red was connected with painful impressions of her childhood. She had, when very young, upset a lamp with a red shade over a table covered with a red cloth and set the house on fire. On the other hand, people and objects we think we recognize as realities may be symbols. As Jung says, we have no right to decide a priori that certain dream visions are symbolical and some others real. We may commit grievous mistakes of interpretation until we de- termine the personal and contemporaneous meaning to the subject of certain dream-details, and the racial-archaic symbolism of certain other particulars of the dream- vision. Jung gives a striking illustration of a dream which could have been interpreted in an absolutely erroneous way by the narrow, superficial application of the rules I have given for symbol reading. The subject reported to him the following dream : '* I was going up-stairs with my mother and sister. When we reached the top, I was told that my sister was soon to have a child." Careless reading would point to an incest phantasy. " If I hold the stairs to be a symbol," Jung remarks very logically, " what right have I to assume that mother, sister and child are not symbols too? " And indeed, he found that to the dreamer, the stairs stood for getting to the top, being successful, prosperous, powerful; his mother, whom he had not seen in years, reminded him of things he had neglected, in particular his work; his THE PSYCHOANALYTIC TREATMENT 221 sister represented a quiet, womanly affection; the child symbolized a desire to be reborn, to become a new man. . . . Reactions to associations, words, dreams and the elab- oration of all the ideas brought out in the course of the analysis, give the analyst a complete picture of the patient's mental condition. There are several threads he can follow and which will lead him to the actual source of the neurosis. The question arises: How far back should one go into the patient's life? Freud holds that every neurosis has its source in Infantile experiences; Jung thinks that the source of the neurosis is in the present; Adler bases the neurosis upon a feeling of inferiority. The only intelligent method consists In directing the attack from those three angles, not relying upon one system to arrive at the truth. In certain cases it will be Freud, in others, Jung, and in others Adler who will give us the proper solution of the problem. In other cases all three theories may find their justification. It matters not by what means we finally establish a con- catenation of causes and effects, provided we acquire a perfect insight into the subject's trouble and succeed in making him see it as we do. The analyst must remember that, not being blinded by the subject's complexes, he will see the truth long before the subject does. The subject must not be reproved for his blindness to apparently ob- vious facts. A point of view acquired In the course of several years' distorted thinking cannot be relinquished in one day. There are too many physical and mental habits opposing that sudden change. The mental false growth is the harder to disintegrate 222 PSYCHOANALYSIS a3 the years have caused It to become harder. The analytic process is extremely slow, because it is thorough. Hypnotism yields apparently more gratifying results and in a remarkably short time. But the proof of a cure is not its rapidity but its permanence. Dr. McKendree told us one day at the Vanderbilt Clinic of an old cab- driver who was brought twice a year to Dejerine's Clinic to be relieved by hypnotism of a hemiplegia, A hard worker, who never took one day's rest, he was stricken every six months with paralysis. His unconscious was compelling him to take a vacation. One hypnotic treatment relieved him and he went away happy, to return six months later. . . . What he needed was not hypnotism but analysis and advice, after which he would have taken a conscious, normal rest, in- stead of taking an unconscious, abnormal vacation which began with a dangerous fall from the seat of his cab to the pavement. Jung mentions In one of his letters to Dr. Loy the miraculous cures he performed once as a hypnotist and which caused him to abandon hypnotism forever. An old woman would come to him unable to walk. He had hardly had time to hypnotize her when she would rise and thank him, A few weeks later she would come with some other painful ailment which would disappear just as quickly, Jung realised that if he consented to treat her, her unconscious would continually create by conver- sion new diseases through whose treatment it would de- rive some curious form of gratification. It was not his failures but such brilliant and spurious results, devoid of any permanency, which led him to devote himself en- tirely to analysis. CHAPTER XIX THE TRANSFERENCE The success of the analytic treatment depends almost entirely upon the confidence which the subject feels in the analyst. Unless the patient does his utmost to help the analyst and lays bare all his secrets, these secrets will have to be gradually discovered by some roundabout method and much time will be wasted. On the other hand, the analyst must constantly suspect his subject. Every neurotic symptom Is practically an unconscious lie, which deceives the patient but should not deceive the analyst. The analyst, however, must keep his suspicions to himself. If he remains absolutely impassive, regardless of what he may hear or find out indirectly, if he avoids hurting the patient by confronting him too soon with some unpleas- ant facts he may have discovered through a study of his reactions or his dreams, if he never passes a judgment, never characterises any phenomenon as foolish, never condemns or praises (for after all, what our unconscious compels us to do entitles us to no praise and should not bring punishment or criticism in its wake) ; if he never laughs or shows surprise, which to the patient's sensitive mind would be synonymous with ignorance or lack of sympathy, the analyst will probably win his subject's ab- solute confidence. A relation is then established which the Freudians have 223 224 PSYCHOANALYSIS slightly exaggerated and dramatized. It is called " transfer " or " transference." If a mentally disturbed person, miserable, lonely, diffi- dent, misunderstood, if not ridiculed, meets with constant sympathy and understanding on every one of his calls at the analyst's office; if he can always secure a patient and respectful hearing for anything he may care to tell, and which people in his environment may for years have char- acterised as " crazy notions," his gratitude may lead him to experience a positive affection for the analyst. The Freudians, after declaring that such a feeling was always sexual, have grown almost alarmed over it. But sex is not the only element in the transference. We must not forget that the subject's ego derives a strong gratification from the fact that his fancies are taken seri- ously and studied scientifically by a man who, owing to his professional training, must be credited with a certain knowledge of human nature. The analyst takes the place of a trusted parent, or an older brother or sister, of the school confidant, of the con- fessor or spiritual adviser, with a difference in his favor. He is bound to secrecy by professional ethics and he never reproves but only studies his patients. The result of the establishment of a transference is slightly paradoxical. Transference, as I said before, helps the cure, and without positive, loving transference there would be no cure. The patient who has an unlim- ited faith in his analyst will respond more readily to the analyst's efforts to probe his troubles. On the other hand, an unconscious desire to show his best side and his most engaging qualities to the analyst whom he likes, may prompt him to conceal some of his weaknesses. This THE TRANSFERENCE 225 situation requires a good deal of tact to be handled suc- cessfully. Brutality might change the subject's fondness for the analyst into bitter hostility or negative transference, put- ting an end to the treatment for the time being. Freud considers the transference as the projection of infantile fantasies upon the analyst. This view is a little too simple, and does not explain everything. As long as the transference is positive, be it homosexual or hetero- sexual, one may recognise in it an infantile erotic char- acter. But when it comes to a negative transference, that is, to an attitude of open or concealed scepticism, criticism or hostility, the problem is more involved. Un- doubtedly the determining factor in that case is the patient's attitude to the principle of authority, symbolized by the father. This is not simply an infantile desire for insubordination, but the cropping out of ego urgings which prompt the individual to develop himself along personal lines, with little patience for outside interference. The real meaning of the transference depends on what the infantile attitude of the patient was. If he was an intractable child, positive transference signifies a change for the better. If he was submissive, the positive trans- ference means a dangerous backsliding. If the patient was Intractable, negative transference indicates backslid- \ ing. If he was submissive, that negative attitude indi- ; cates, on the contrary, the attaining of freedom by the i patient, who becomes himself. The patient, not knowing the right attitude to take (for If he knew it he would not be in need of analytic treat- ment) enters a relationship to the analyst, which is de- I termined by comparison and analogies with his infantile ai6 PSYCHOANALYaS experiences. This relation (which Christianity has set up as the right formula for human relationships) pro- vides an easy way for placing the patient in direct contact with the world through some understanding person. Re- establishing the father-son relation would not be the solu- tion in certain cases. It would simply add power to the forces which have made the patient a neurotic. " The neurotic," Jung writes, " is not ill because he has lost his old faith, but because he has not found a form for his finest aspirations." Ferenczi draws a very illuminating comparison between hypnotism and transference. He states that the capacity to be hypnotized and influ- enced by suggestion depends on the possibility of a trans- ference taking place, or, more openly expressed, on the positive, though unconscious sexual attitude which the subject assumes to the hypnotist. The transference, he i says, has its deepest roots in repressed parent complexes. Success in hypnosis is very variable, ranging from 50% to 96%, according to the various authors. All authors agree that a certain physical predisposition, self-confi- dence, an impressive, fatherly appearance especially, (Svengali) helps considerably. Ferenczi states that when young and Ignorant, he was extremely successful as a hypnotist. Later, when pro- ceeding more carefully, and having lost the self-confidence that ignorance gives, he failed rather frequently. There are, he says, two means of hypnotizing people: through dread and through love. The hypnotist with the impressive appearance reminds the subject of his father austere and strong, whom he wishes to imitate and obey. The stroking of the face or hands is prob- THE TRANSFERENCE 227 ably a gentle reminder of the mother soothing the child and putting him to sleep. In the presence of the hypnotist " the child that slum- bers in the unconscious of the adult " is re-awakened. There is a curious resemblance between the neurotic disturbance which takes place many years later due to the father or mother complex and the automatic acts follow- ing hypnotic commands. In both cases the effect is un- known to the subject. The awakened subject does not remember anything about the hypnotic sleep, and the adult has forgotten the infantile impressions, the repres- sions and suppressions due to obedience to the parents' or teachers' authority. There is, then, in transference a distinct form of hypno- tism probably associated with infantile memories. In the case of a negative transference we find the same elements. There are subjects who conceive a strong distaste for the analyst. And in many cases it has been shown that those same subjects cannot be hypnotized. Inability to be hypnotized, according to Freud, means an unconscious refusal to be hypnotized. The fact that some neurotics can be hypnotized only with difficulty shows that they do not wish to be cured. The antipathy to the analyst is probably created by infantile complexes. A rebellious attitude toward the parents will probably in later life create a rebellious atti- tude toward the man who becomes a substitute for the parent-image. Adler says that special attention should be given to the patient's tendency to depreciate the analyst and deprive him of his worth. The patient may do this by following 228 PSYCHOANALYSIS the ordinary direction which his disease takes and strengthening it, exaggerating his symptoms or creating new ones, and trying to establish tense relations, some- times of friendship or love, always witli the intention of mastering the analyst. " The tactical and pedagogic ex- pedients to which one is obliged to resort, in order to break down such attempts on the part of the patient, be- come an important factor in analytic therapy. The silent protest of the neurotic should not, however, be under- valued, and one should be on the lookout for it to the very end of the treatment, laying special stress upon it toward its termination. It should be viewed with quiet, objective composure, as a mere symptom of aggressive- ness, revealing certain predispositions and characteristics. The destruction of the false perspective, the damming up of the fictitious influx in the direction of the masculine protest, and finally a right understanding of the super- stitious faith in an abstract guiding line and the apotheosis of the same, are the levers which must be used to remove the neurosis." Jung warns analysts against relying too much on positive transference to cure patients. " If the doctor," he writes, " makes himself very pleasant, he buys off from the patient a series of resistances which he should have overcome, and whose overcoming will have to be gone through later on. Nothing is won by this technique ; at most the beginning of the analysis is made easier for the patient. ... A stronger motive for recovery, also a far healthier and ethically more valuable one, consists in the patient's thorough insight into the real state of affairs, the recognition of how things are now and how they ought to be. The man of any sort of worth will THE TRANSFERENCE 229 then discern that he can hardly sit down at ease in the quagmire of his neurosis." Dr. Jelliffe has offered a very novel suggestion for the establishment of a transference in cases when such at- tempts appear most hopeless, in the treatment of dementia praecox or manic depressive states. Instead of the usual transference, patient to analyst, he would establish a tri- angular relation which would triumph over the patient's indifference or hostility. " The specially trained nurse or attendant being pres- ent," he writes, " would allow of his distribution of inter- est in accordance with the split within the patient's psychi- cal content. The discussion might begin by the analysts addressing only this third person and not the patient, thus gradually permitting the extroversion of interest at lower intensities, so that the excessive affect has opportunity, tentatively and gradually, to release itself. At the same time it would distribute its force instead of directing it solely toward the analyst." CHAPTER XX RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS Assuming that the cure has been accomplished and the patient feels normal again, what shall the next step be? The usual medical practitioner, having piloted a patient safely through a severe physical trial, sickness or operation, does not abandon him to his devices after dis- charging him as cured. He generally considers it his duty to examine him care- fully at various intervals, and to give him advice calcu- lated to make a recurrence of his trouble unlikely. Supervision of the subject by the analyst after the mental disturbance has been removed is not only a meas- ure of precaution but actually a part of the treatment. I sum up the advice given by White in that connection in his " Outlines of Psychiatry." " In neurasthenia, the problem is to get the patient out of himself and into healthy touch with the world of reality. This can be done only by awakening new in- terests and training him gradually In healthy viewpoints and a continuity of effort in endeavoring to establish the habit of work." '* In obsessions and phobias, a rational psychotherapy is indicated. This should include a careful regulation of the mental life within the powers of the individual, a getting away from old and vicious habits of thought by 330 RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS 23 1 being shown their error, but better, by being directed into new channels. The treatment involves a re-education and is quite as delicate and skillful a matter as the re- education of the muscular habits in ticqueurs." In other words, the task, of the analyst is not by any means completed when he has allowed the neurotic to peer freely into his own unconscious. After freeing from his chains a prisoner whose legs have become weak from disuse, we must lead his first steps carefully and point to him the roads which will present the fewest pitfalls. Unless the analyst re-educates his patients, his work is almost as barren as that of the hypnotist who, after rid- ding a subject of a certain symptom, prepares him in no way to resist the next onset of the same symptom. All the students of neuroses agree that the majority of neurotics have a rather narrow horizon and a mentality curiously undeveloped in certain directions. Ignorance and fear usually go together. I might say that the mental advance due to civilization can be com- puted by the fears it has killed: Fear of misunderstood physical phenomena, fear of occult influences, fear of ghosts of various kinds, fear of one's unconscious. The fear of nothing intangible is probably the beginning of wisdom, provided that indifference is spontaneous, not due to wilful repressions of our self-protection urge. The analyzed subject has been freed of one of several fears, but it may be beset by other fears at other times. The analyst must therefore use the authority he has gained through transference to develop in his subject that desire to shine, to be agreeable, which is at times one of the disturbing elements of the transference. The analyst, who must be a man of well rounded educa- 232 PSYCHOANALYSIS tlon, and of broad interests and views, must become an educator. We must, Jelliffe says, offer to the patient " something that his own particular interest and striving from within will naturally take to itself and appropriate as a suf- ficiently familiar pathway to the external world and its wholesome interests. . . . The compulsive neurotic who has vacillated helplessly for decades between strongly op- posing tendencies, crassly egoistic on the one hand and painfully self-corrective on the other, should have some- thing now about which he has really to think. Science, the exact sciences of nature or the facts of human history in the cultural sciences, will set him thinking toward definite conclusions. He will learn ... a new progres- sive handling of mental material. He will no longer merely grub about in his thought but use it to some pur- pose." Kempf suggests a physical as well as a mental re-educa- tion. "An effort should be made," he writes, " to use the transfer in order to influence the patient to become socially constructive in some manner. This is absolutely imperative in order to fulfill the mission in which his parents failed. The choice of method should be left most carefully to the patient but he should not be allowed to avoid it. Furthermore the psychoanalysis should be ac- companied by vigorous indulgence in social play of a type requiring exposure of functional and organic in- feriorities to more or less critical evaluation by competi- tors. This tends to make the individual immune to fear of failure or inferiority and will prevent him from seek- ing eccentric compensation, regression or seclusive adapta- tions. RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS 233 " The psychoanalytic procedure consists essentially In bringing about an autonomic-affective readjustment that will be comfortable as well as socially constructive. This depends largely upon the ego permitting the repressed cravings to cause awareness of their presence and needs, and finding a more practical, healthful, intelligent, less fearful course of adjustment." A great deal of introversion Is created by certain obses- sions and the re-education must correct that condition and replace it by a normal degree of extroversion. A subject of mine who in childhood had suffered from a disfiguring disease but had outgrown it completely and is now a strong, healthy and handsome man, was at times victimized by his *' reminiscences," and imagined that peo- ple were looking strangely at his head. Going about with a scared look and a forbidding mien, he could detect a hostile intent in the most innocent glances. The small boy he once was and whose suppurating head caused him no end of discomfort and humiliation was still perform- ing defence actions which should have ceased 20 years before. The subject had become introverted to an abnormal degree, shunning all gatherings, avoiding men and women, and masturbating. After he had gained full insight into the fallacious character of his delusion the problem was to map out for him a program of interesting, pleasant, useful, social activities, which would enable him to resume contact with his environment. The sluggish, sullen In- trovert has now developed a great fondness for dancing, has joined a class in public speaking and is preparing him- self at a night-school for an Interesting profession. The activities in which the cured neurotic must take 234 PSYCHOANALYSIS part have to be pleasant and must not expose him to a discouraging defeat. The idea that unpleasant tasks develop our will-power is as absurd as the old belief that medicines with a dis- gusting taste are more efficient, although they begin by making the patient sick with nausea. The re-education of neurotics, like the education of children, should not be based on compulsion on the part of the teacher, but on the pupil's desire, properly awakened, to acquire knowl- edge. The human organism is meant for pleasure, not for suffering, for Interesting, not for consciously irksome activities. Cannon's observations leave little doubt that to every form of suffering, to every unpleasant stimulus, corre- sponds a decrease of the body's natural, beneficial activi- ties, an effort to re-establish a pleasant, normal status, which is waste of energy. Psychoanalysis has occupied itself mainly with the cure of mental abnormality but it should begin to map out definite prophylactic activities. This would Include a re- vision of educational methods from the analytic point of view, and a general training of the masses in self-analysis. Kven as the aim of medicine is to make physicians un- necessary, the aim of psychoanalysis is to make analysts useless. The old-fashioned educator who Is fond of saying that there is no royal road to learning, and that the study of tedious subjects constitutes a good mental discipline, must be held responsible for a great number of mental ab- normalities. Very few children will ever be able to uti- RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS 235 llze whatever knowledge of Latin, Greek and algebra they acquire In school. They feel It obscurely, and study those subjects as they take bitter medicine, by compulsion. But they would lend themselves more readily to attempts at teaching them Italian, modern Russian or Japanese or automobile repairing, which would probably develop their minds more rationally than a study of dead lan- guages. Doing unpleasant things, which serve no practical end, may train our minds, but It trains them to assume ab- normal attitudes, and the unavoidable rebound Is naturally disastrous In certain cases. What does education do to secure an expression for our pleasure and our ego urges? Our ear Is to be trained in enjoying music, let us say. That means that a naturally restless child shall be compelled to memorize tedious technical details of musical notation and to per- form on some instrument exercises lacking In interest and charm. The same applies to other arts-,,^ Love of art and desire for artistic expression may sur- vive that form of torture but cannot by any chance be encouraged or promoted thereby. The average child's ears, his eyes, his nose, his hands are not trained In seek- ing positive enjoyment. Mass education, which aims at turning out hundreds of thousands of Identical human beings, represses cruelly every outcropping of the child's ego and teaches him to conceal his individuality under stereotyped formulas and to hide many feelings under an artificial social mask. Too often, then, the ardent child, fully fitted for a com- plete life, but confronted at every step by a thousand 236 PSYCHOANALYSIS forms of repression, becomes a slave to self-gratification, the only form of expression for his urges which his envir- onment cannot repress. His untrained senses soon fall under the thraldom of that obsession; whatever he sees is easily transformed into a sexual stimulus; what he hears acquires a sexual meaning; odors, tastes, contacts become laden with a sexual import. In other words, if a large steam generator is discon- nected from the motors it should supply and all the safety- valves but one have been shut, the steam will use the only available outlet, produce a deafening sound while escaping, and endow that outlet with an importance abso- lutely out of keeping with the role which the designer of the boiler assigned to it in his plans. Thus the " tyranny of sex " imposes itself upon many human beings. Greek chroniclers tell us that, at one of the Hellenic festivals, Phryne, Praxiteles' favorite model, was to im- personate Aphrodite rising from the waves. When she stepped into the sea, naked and with her golden hair un- bound, a religious silence, we are told, descended upon the multitude. . . . The same scene enacted at Coney Island by Annette Kellerman or Kitty Gordon would produce quite a dif- ferent impression. The splendid men, who from all parts of Greece flocked to the Corinthian or Olympic festivals, were well rounded specimens of humanity. The perfect man in those days would compose a poem, sing it and accompany himself on the lyre, as well as run, wrestle and throw the discus. They were too virile not to appreciate the RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS 237 splendid female Phryne was, but the religious silence mentioned by the chronicler was evidence that other con- siderations of an aesthetic and enjoyable order were oc- cupying their minds at the time. They were not the slaves of any sexual obsession. Some day, mankind may revert to that perfect nor- mality. Children will then receive the training which will make them many-sided, open to many pleasant stimuli and therefore normal. Instead of hideous, boresome " music lessons," they may be made to listen to good music under the leadership of gifted, enthusiastic musical guides, whose apprecia- tion of masterpieces will prove Infectious. After this some of them will prove Indifferent and should not be compelled to waste time or energy on a distasteful sub- ject; others will develop a craving for reproducing the pleasant combinations of sounds with which they have become familiar and will seek technical training; others will yield to the desire to produce themselves similar com- binations of sounds and will be only too willing to be In- structed in musical composition. The same applies to all the arts. Children could be trained in developing their sense of sight by admiring the wonderful things of which nature is full, from a beautiful sunset to a dramatic electrical storm, from the mountains to the starlit skies. Aesthetic appreciation of the human body, such as the Greeks evinced, should be revived and would produce healthier bodies than those we see on ocean beaches, and which are the prisons of rather miserable minds. The child's sense of smell could be trained through 238 PSYCHOANALYSIS walks In parks and forests and along the sea-shore, his sense of touch through modeling clay and handling repro- ductions of ancient vases, etc. . . . If all our senses were equally trained to yield manifold sensations of pleasure, there would be fewer of the un- fortunate human beings whose only gratification consists in gulping exaggerated amounts of food or drink, or in- dulging in solitary vice. Lack of mental development makes life terribly mo- notonous and compels many human beings to waste their energy in distasteful occupations. The lazy and the idle are too frequently persons who have been trained for one kind of work for which, how- ever, they are not physically or mentally fitted, and who feel that such work is not worth doing. Every one of us has ability in some direction, and we might repeat here Jung's saying that what struck him most when analyzing people was the enormous amount of artistic ability, repressed or undeveloped, that he found in his patients, j^rtlstic ability is the ability to express oneself, to relieve the pressure of the urges. In a social way, beneficial both to the individual and to his environ- ment: The analyst may fulfill the mission which Socrates as- signed to the philosopher, and act as an intellectual mid- wife, helping minds to give forth all the possibilities with which they are pregnant. The man trained rationally will not have to " sub- limate " any urges. If all his life energies, are properly distributed and made to flow freely through all the natural channels, none of them is likely to overwhelm the others, RE-EDUCATION AND PROPHYLAXIS 239 to dominate the individual's life and to thwart his mental operations. Self-analysis, when made as common as the comb or the toothbrush, will prevent much useless strife and suf- fering. Married couples would derive much comfort from a knowledge, however superficial, of psychoanalytic princi- ples. Unconscious attitudes misunderstood by one of the partners as conscious and wilful, would excite less indignation and cause less suffering if they were clearly recognized as products of the unconscious. Husbands and wives, realizing what their partner's unconscious cravings demand, might on the other hand adopt attitudes which would gratify easily those unconscious cravings. The process of unification of reactions between husband and wife, mentioned by Jung, and which takes years to accomplish, accompanied at times by intense friction and resistance, might be hastened if the intended partners were made conscious of their probable sources of mutual hostility. Extreme frankness, such as seldom exists in our \ modern civilization between husband and wife, would in -■ many cases prevent a neurosis. / Jung says that a neurose contains the counter-argu- ment against the relationship of the patient to the person with whom he is most intimately connected. If the hus- band develops a neurose. It means that he has tendencies that diverge from his wife's and if the wife becomes a neurotic It means that her tendencies are opposed to her husband's. How many times we could analyze away many of the 240 PSYCHOANALYSIS obscure feelings of hostility we experience toward per- fectly harmless persons whose only crime is that they remind us unconsciously of some other person who once frightened or harmed us! We could avoid very often the unpleasant breakdown which follows a useless display of bravery or of indif- ference in a crisis. CHAPTER XXI THE NEW ETHICS Stripped of their mystical phraseology, the various systems of ethics propounded by religious or lay bodies have only one aim : To offer to human beings one code of social behavior which will minimize the number of colli- sions among them. Both are based upon the assumption that a certain amount of renunciation is " good." Both presuppose the acceptance of a line of cleavage between what is pleasing to the deity and what is not pleasing, or between what is high and what is low. Religious ethics and ethical culturism have reached the same conclusions, most of which, I hasten to add, are per- fectly legitimate, through a purely empirical method. They bid man to do certain things which in the course of the world's life have been found to be generally ad- vantageous to the race. Their fatal weakness, however, is the fact that they do not offer acceptable reasons for their pronounce- ments. Granted an unshakable faith in some deity and in its prophets, any code of ethics based upon the com- mands of that deity will be easily applied without any extraneous help. Granted an absolute confidence in some ethical leader, his followers will willingly adhere to his classification of the lower and higher instincts, motives and deeds. The continual development of the ego urge from 241 242 PSYCHOANALYSIS century to century, however, has created an attitude of mind which is not favorable to the autocratic domina- tion of prophets and leaders. When every man assumes, with more or less justifica- tion, that his opinion is probably as good as that of any other man, the other man, prophet or ethical leader, is called upon to present proof of the justness of his con- tention. Growing egotism is substituting more and more rapidly the rational for the emotional appeal. The conscious egotist whose ego urge tends to make him constantly seek a new and higher level, is not over- anxious to be " uplifted " by anyone. If someone, how- ever, presents to him convincing reasons of a scientific nature for a mode of behavior promoting his ego's prog- ress and rise, he will undoubtedly secure a hearing. Ethics, like power, are no longer to descend from above but to rise from below. Before proceeding any further we must touch upon the question of free will, which in ethics is paramount. A belief in absolute determinism would make any ethical discussion useless if not ridiculous. How much freedom of choice do we possess? Psychoanalysis is compelled to register two contra- dictory observations : the growing amount of evidence in favor of psychic determinism and the decrease of faith in whatever would restrict the field of our free will. Fatalism, the will of God, the hand of destiny are be- coming more and more figures of speech rather than the expression of any human belief. The more the com- plexity of modern life compels us to follow a rigid form of behavior, the more our ego will seek compensation in a belief in unlimited freedom of choice. THE NEW ETHICS 243 On the other hand, the study of psychic phenomena Is conducive to a profound scepticism as to chance and conscious choice. The testimony of our consciousness Is of no value what- ever, as the study of post-hypnotic reasoning abundantly proves. The subject carrying out a definite command of the hypnotizer is convinced of his freedom of choice and can always give good reasons for doing what he cannot help doing in his post-hypnotic thraldom. The studies in heliotropism and phototropism made recently by Jacques Loeb and Harold Wastenays make us suspect that the human world may not be free from the chemical determinism which seems to rule the animal world. When we remember that the mere fact of sexual excitement causes male and female bees to lose entirely their freedom of direction and to fly in a direct line toward the sun until the sexual act Is completed, when we think that a few drops of some acid will compel cer- tain crustaceans stubbornly to face the source of light and die of starvation even when plentiful food is heaped up close to them In the opposite direction, that the larvae of caterpillars are compelled by their heliotropism to climb to the topmost twig of a tree, there to die unless they secure on the way up a mouthful of green leaf which returns to them their freedom of choice, we may well wonder to what extent the same phenomena affect un- consciously our freedom of choice. Le Dantec calls our attention to storms, which, while giving the Impression of " individuaHty " and " free- dom," are nevertheless quite as completely determined by physical conditions as any other atmospheric phe- nomena. 244 PSYCHOANALYSIS A certain amount of negative freedom seems to exist in the world of urges. We may postpone the satisfac- tion of our appetite, we may deny ourselves sexual satis- faction, we may repress anger, but we may not, regard- less of our efforts in that direction, arouse our desire for food unless our stomach is empty, nor feel sexual desire unless a likely physical or mental stimulus is pres- ent, nor can we in a normal state of mind feel anger without a definite conscious cause. Our limited freedom would then be conditioned by a knowledge of the various forces that struggle for ex- pression in ourselves, and of the various roads they might follow without coming into conflict with the same forces expressing themselves in other human beings. We shall agree with Nietzsche that the most desirable human quality in this case is " elasticity." Adaptability is too passive a word. Besides the very inferior individ- ual that cannot adapt itself and dies off, and the average individual that adapts itself and survives, we must con- ('sider the type that adapts its environment and makes it easier for others to live in It: the man who kills a mos- quito, the man who screens off his house, and the man who drains the swamps. Elasticity applies to the last type more than adaptability and it may be that only in this last type do we find a real amount of freedom, both negative and positive. This type Is precisely the one who will insist on sci- entific reasons and not on sentimental or mystical ones. Quotations from Pasteur's, Edison's or Ehrllch's writ- ings will Impress him more than quotations from the Old or the New Testament, the Koran, the Talmud or Lao Tse's Tao. THE NEW ETHICS 245 In other words we no longer trust the ethical code that says to us: " Thou shalt not touch a live wire; I am the Lord," or " Touching a live wire is unethical, or low," but the ethical code that will state that touching a live wire will allow a current to go through one's body which will cause intense pain, physical damage and prob- ably death. Any system of ethics going no further, however, would be as unsatisfactory to intelligent human beings as, for instance, the so-called legal ethics or medical ethics. It is legally ethical to increase out of proportion the salaries of corporation officers so as to conceal the taxable surplus income. A physician may allow the innocent marriage partner of a syphilitic to remain in ignorance of the sick partner's condition. In other words, ethics whose only duty would be " to keep out of trouble," would be simply a code of con- venience, shallow and near-sighted. The new ethics must take into account the constant inter-relationship that binds every human being to the entire social body, much as every cell of the organism functions in accord with the rest of the organism, its health depending upon that of the body and the body's health depending on the health of all the individual cells. When that relation is clearly seen, human behavior will be a relatively simple mental calculation, instead of the torturing problem it presents for the less robust minds from the ranks of whom neurotics are recruited. It has been pointed out a thousand times, but it bears repetition, that neurotics are generally very " ethical " persons, who, in the struggle against their instincts, go down to defeat. When we bear in mind the multiplicity of unproved ethi- 246 PSYCHOANALYSIS cal notions, the conflict of ethical creeds, the general hy- pocrisy which is back of the notion of sin, we can easily imagine how a weakened mind may be overwhelmed in- stead of strengthened by all those conflicting beliefs. Uncertainty is the worst mental poison. Ellen Key suffered cruelly from it in her youth and finally attempted to compel God to reveal His existence by insulting Him publicly. Most people, however, content themselves with " taking chances." Taking a chance on escaping God's punishing hand and stealing goods in the hope that no one will see us is very much the same thing and is due to the same mental oper- ation. If, in every emergency, v/e had as definite reasons for doing or not doing a certain thing as an electrician has for not handling a live wire without rubber gloves, we would never take chances. Taking chances is simply an evidence of ignorance. In other words, conduct will be the result of a debate between our ego and sex urges, pushing us ahead on the road of evolution, and our safety urge which is trying to minimize the waste of material and motion charac- teristic of most of nature's processes. In neurosis we have observed two pre-eminent facts : ( 1 ) The neurotic is ignorant of some important un- conscious factor. (2) The neurotic is tortured by one autocratic instinct. The neurotic is generally least informed about his ego urge and his sex urge. Both are subjected to a very hypocritical censorship by our social system, but, of the two, the sex urge is probably the most generally lied about. Epictetus once said that ethics was a question of THE NEW ETHICS 247 dealing wisely with the phenomena of existence. How can we deal wisely with what we do not know? The words " ego " and " egotist " have been given by hypo- crites a very unpleasant connotation. The ego urge, the source of discontent and progress, is suspected by the stolid, unimaginative masses of neophobiacs who consti- tute the greater part of mankind, who cling to estab- lished things because they lack the vision that would show them the possibility of change. The ego urge, denied an outlet, expresses itself, then, in useless, wasteful " chance " actions which make up the woof of our daily life. Or it may cause a psychopatho- logical attack of megalomania, persecution mania and other hallucinations, not to mention crime. We are quite as ashamed of our ego urge as we are of our sex and it is with the most absurdly apologetic or cen- sorious tone that we mention our ego urge or that of others. In fact, our attitude places upon all its mani- festations an abnormal complexion. The discontented man is the hope of the world. The world, unwilling or unable to recognize that fact, calls him a subversive person, a crank, an embittered soul. He himself generally conceals that tendency of his and, instead of engaging in positive endeavor, often satisfies his unconscious cravings by disparaging others, being hostile, crabbed, etc. Humility may conceal a violent ego just as prudery is the usual cloak for unbridled sexual cravings. " We are what we are," Freud once said to Putnam, " because we have been what we have been. . . . And what is needed to solve the problem of human life and motives is not moral estimates but more knowledge." 248 PSYCHOANALYSIS Ethics based upon religious revelation are prone to fear knowledge. A curse was placed upon partaking of the fruit of the tree of science in the Earthly Paradise and Mephistopheles, the archfiend, is generally represented as possessed of the highest intelligence. This attitude still dominates a part of the scientific world. Opponents of psychoanalysis are often heard basing their objections on the fact that analysis " stirs up " too many unconscious things which should not be made con- scious. It is especially to knowledge of sex facts that the greatest ethical opposition manifests itself. The mere statement of certain physiological facts is held dangerous in certain quarters. Parents refuse to enlighten their children in order to " keep their minds pure." The result is that children derive their information about sex matters from ignorant little playmates or perverse adults, who impart to them either filthy or romantic notions, both equally dangerous. For children seeking enlightenment on that subject cannot safely be refused, as the analyses of little Hans, little Anna and little Arpad by Freud, Jung and Ferenczi prove abundantly. - Sex romance is a poisonous element in human life. What its results may be is well illustrated by one of the chapters in Upton Sinclair's " Love's Pilgrimage," in which two sexually ignorant lovers start on a career of mental and physical disharmony which leads to much suf- fering. Romance is unethical. By covering the abyss with flowers, by refusing to place red lights on obstructions at THE NEW ETHICS 249 night, it causes infinite waste of mental and physical material. Reality, well understood, with its infinite possibilities, would be a beneficial substitute for romance. If people realized the thrilling possibilities of chemistry or engineer- ing, they could derive the same mental stimulation which romance, based on ignorance, gives them now. The ro- mance of reality would intoxicate them pleasantly and spur them to actual achievement of social value. The romance of reality would be based on truth. After a child's sexual investigations have proved to him that his parents and teachers are in one respect unmiti- gated liars, how can those parents and teachers hope that their word will carry conviction on subjects whose con- crete evidence cannot be produced when needed? As Holt says, a ten-year-old child will be easily con- vinced by one trial that his parents were truthful when discouraging overindulgence in doughnuts. But the con- sequences of smoking, for instance, are so deferred that the child will have to take his father's word for them. If Johnnie's father lied to him, Johnnie will reach the con- clusion that " father says " rather than " tobacco is " injurious. We have shown in the preceding chapter how sexual urgings could be prevented from assuming an exaggerated importance in the individual's life. In the chapter on " Chance Actions " we have reviewed many phenomena, some of them of a most unpleasant type, which compen- sate for the repression to which our environment unwisely submits our ego urge. We have seen that its total re- pression by confinement in jail, especially solitary confine- ment, is the surest way to produce distressing psychoses. 250 PSYCHOANALYSIS Useless repression of the ego urge Is unethical. The legions of weak men and women who are slaves to fashion and who are terrorized by fear of business or social ostracism Into abandoning every desire they might possess in the matter of personal adornment, and who bow down to all the dictates of social etiquette in matters of be- havior, are deprived in many ways of their efficiency. The energy expended In repressing harmless desires could be applied for more useful ends. Many children commit unethical actions because no one I has pointed out to them a sensible way of dealing with ^ reality. Their ego urge compels them to seek notoriety, leadership, power. They attain that aim by outdoing the " gang's " previous misdeeds. Bad boys, treated as I have seen them treated by men like Bartholomay in Dallas or Nathan Peyser in New York City, allowed to share in many of the responsible activities of the school, to attend to matters generally entrusted to adults, admitted to conferences at which the school's welfare Is discussed, asked for advice which very often proves extremely sensible, find in such socially use- ful activities the notoriety and power which are necessary to their mental well-being. The child's ambition is to be a grown-up. To many children, unfortunately, being a grown-up is symbolized only by smoking, drinking and sexual indulgence. Young egotists permitted to share in the useful activities of grown-ups would soon enjoy a form of gratification which would not harm their environment and would bring no retribution in its wake. With imagination educators could easily find socially worthy outlets for every " bad boy's " egotistical cravings. THE NEW ETHICS 25 1 Given a chance to be pleasantly ethical, few boys would brave the hardships that go with unethical urge-gratifi- cation. The bad boy's main fault is his belief in the reality of romance. The cure for his ills is the full understanding of the romance of reality. What I have said of children applies to a great extent^ to grown-ups. The adult who believes in the reality of \ romance may either commit an unethical action or merge into a neurose, which is also an unethical action, involun- tary as it may be. " When we cease to believe in miracles," Nietzsche writes, " we shall try to find out first how much energy is inherited, secondly how new energy can be aroused, thirdly how the individual can be adapted to the manifold claims of culture without being disquieted or having his personality destroyed." In psychoanalytic language, we shall find out, first, what our urges are, how they can be given adequate out- lets, how these outlets may be equalized so that the individual shall escape both a neurose and a jail sentence. Man's duty in the future shall be represented by one word: Health, — health which will mean mental and physical happiness and efficiency and will enable us to co- operate fully with other human beings, without ever be- coming a burden to the community. Mental health is conditioned by our willingness or our power to face things. A neurose after all is something that we refuse to face, often because mock-ethical teach- ings have taught us not to face it. No one can read the works of White, Jelliffe, Kempf 252 PSYCHOANALYSIS and Cannon without being led to suspect that our mental inability or refusal to face things as they are is responsible for an enormous number of diseases which to-day are con- sidered as purely organic. No one really has to be abnormal. The very compli- cation of our civilization makes for a variety of oppor- tunities which should be given to the accentuated traits of our nature. Even a person with a slightly exaggerated sadistic trend could be made useful to society while utilizing his idiosyncrasy to valuable ends. A surgeon's profession, a butcher-shop would, according to the man's educational level, satisfy sadistic cravings. The masochist would conversely find useful employ- ment, peculiarly suited to his unconscious desires, in so- cial work, nursing, etc. The task of modern ethics will not be the barren task of the old ethics. The old ethics condemned and pro- nounced sentences; the new^ ethics will understand and find a rational use for everything human. Ethics will not waste any human material, physical or mental. Our in- efficient courts and absurd prisons are essentially immoral. For as Kempf says, " No matter how holy and sanctified the laws may seem to sound, if suppressive wasters of energy, they are immoral." The new ethics will constantly bear in mind that life is meant to be lived fully and joyfully in a social sense, not in a selfish sense, and is not a preparation for death but an aim and end in itself. Nietzsche, who in many respects has been a forerunner of the analysts, makes Zarathustra say. THE NEW ETHICS 253 " Since humanity came into being, man has enjoyed himself too little. That alone, my brethren, is our orig- inal sin." f GLOSSARY Abreaction: The process of discharging repressed emotion con- nected with a painful past experience by describing the ex- perience vividly to the analyst. Addison's Disease: Bronzed skin disease. Aerophobia: Fear of high places. Affect: A sum of excitation. Agoraphobia: Fear of open spaces. Ambivalence: The experiencing of opposite feelings at the same time, such as love and hatred for the same person. Aphasia: Inability to speak. Arithmomania: The impulse to count everything. Astrapaphobia: Fear of thunder and lightning. Auto-Erotism: Self-gratification of an infantile character. Basedow's Disease: Exophthalmic goitre. Bestiality: See Zoophilism. BiSEXUALisM: The condition of a person equally attracted by both sexes. Blocking: A difficulty in association caused by the touching of a complex in the course of an analysis. Catharsis: A mental cleansing performed through bringing to the consciousness painful and repressed facts and experiences. Claustrophobia: Fear of enclosed spaces. Condensation: A fusion of events, thoughts, pictures, individ- uals. Constellation: A group of inter-related complexes. Conversion : The transformation of an emotion into a physical manifestation. Coprophilism : Gratification derived from handling filth, feces, etc. Delusion : False belief reposing on no logical foundation. 255 256 PSYCHOANALYSIS Displacement: Substitution of an unimportant idea for an important one, for purposes of concealment. Electra Complex: An exaggerated attachment, sometimes of an incestuous or neurotic origin, of the female child for her father and her consequent hostility to her mother, Erythromaxia : Compulsive blushing. Erythrophobia : The fear of the color red. Exhibitionism: Gratification experienced through exposing one's body or genitals. Extroversion: The turning of one's interests toward the out- side world. Fetichism: Gratification derived from touching or looking at certain parts of the body or a piece of apparel symbolizing a part of the body. Fixation : The exaggerated attachment of a child for one of the parents. Graves's Disease: Exophthalmic goitre. Hallucination : An auditory or visual sensation originating in the mind without any external stimulus. Heliotropism: A forced movement in the direction of (posi- tive) or away from (negative) the sun. iHeterosexuality : The normal attraction for persons of the opposite sex. Homosexuality: The abnormal attraction for persons of the same sex. Introversion : The turning of one's interest upon one's self. Kleptomania: The impulse to steal things. Libido (Freud) : Sexual craving. Manic-Depressive Psychosis: A mental disturbance character- ised by more or less durable periods of agitation followed by periods of depression. Masochism (from Sacher-Masoch, who described perversions) : Gratification, sometimes of a sexual nature, derived from sub- mitting to domination, violence or suffering. GLOSSARY £57 Megalomania: Delusion of greatness. Metabolism: The transformation of foodstuffs into tissue ele- ments and of complex substances into simpler ones in the pro- duction of energy. Migraine : A headache usually unilateral accompanied by gastric and visual disturbances. Narcism (from Narcissus, the youth in love with his image): Gratification derived from admiring one's self. Necrophilism : Gratification derived from sexual congress with dead bodies. Oedipus Complex: An exaggerated attachment, sometimes of an incestuous or neurotic origin, of the male child for his mother and his consequent hostility toward his father. Onanism: Sexual self-gratification. Onomatomania: The impulse to repeat certain words. Parthenogenesis: The development of an organism from an unfertilized ovum (egg). Phobia: An abnormal fear. Phototropism : A forced movement in the direction of (posi- tive) or away from (negative) the source of light. Polymorphous Perverse ( Freud j: Infantile activities similar to adult perversions. Pyromania: The impulse to set fire to things. Sadism (from Marquis de Sade, a French pervert) : Gratifica- tion, at times of a sexual nature, derived from overpowering or torturing others. Secondary Elaboration: The attempt of the dream-work to bring a logical sequence into the apparently disconnected fabric of the dream-fantasy. Strabism: Faulty adjustment of the ocular muscles which pre- vents the eyes from looking in the same direction at the same time. Sublimation (Freud) : The directing of sexual cravings to- ward other aims of a non-sexual nature. 258 PSYCHOANALYSIS TiCQUEURS: Persons suffering from Tic, or muscular spasm. Trigeminal Neuralgia: Neuralgia affecting the three branches of the trifacial nerve which supply the face. Unconscious: Ideas or memories which cannot be brought to consciousness without extraneous help. Voyeur: A person who derives gratification from looking at sexual objects or witnessing sexual scenes. ZooPHiLiSM : Gratification derived from sexual congress with animals. BIBLIOGRAPHY Abraham, K. 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B. Behavior and the Concept of Mental Disease. Phil. Psych, and Scientific Methods, Vol. XIII, No. 22. Watson, J. B. Behavior. Holt. Watson^ J. B. and Morgan, J. J. B. Emotional Reactions and Psychological Experimentation. Am. Jr. of Psychology, Vol. XXVIII, No. 2 270 i PSYCHOANALYSIS White, W. A. Outlines of Psychiatry. Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series, No. I. White, W. A. The Mental Hygiene of Childhood. Little, Brown. White, W. A. Principles of Mental Hygiene. Macmillan. White, W. A. Mechanisms of Character Formation. Mac- millan. White, W. A. Mental Mechanisms. Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series, No. 8. White, W. A. The Mechanism of Transference. Psychoana- lytic Revieiv, Vol. IV, No. 4. Woodworth, R. S. a Revision of Imageless Thought. Psycho- logical Review, Vol. XXH, No. i. Wittels, F. Die sexualle Not. Stern. Vienna. AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL PERIODICALS American Journal of Psychology — Worcester, Mass. 600 pages annually. Edited by G. Stanley Hall. Quarterly. Gen- eral and experimental psjxholog^'. Founded 1887. Pedagogical Seminary — Worcester, Mass. 575 pages annually. Edited by G. Stanley Hall. Quarterly. Pedagogy and edu- cational psychology. Founded i8gi. Psychological Revieiv — Princeton, N. J.: Psychological Review Company. 480 pages annually. Bi-monthly. General. Founded 1S94. Edited by Howard C. Warren. Psychological Bulletin — Princeton, N. J.: Psychological Review Company. 480 pages annually. Psychological literature. Monthly. Founded 1904. Edited by Shepherd I. Franz. Psychological Monographs — Princeton, N. J.: Psychological Re- view Company. 500 pp. Founded 1895. Ed. by James R. Angell. Psychological Index — Princeton, N. J.: Psychological Review Company. 200 pp. Founded 1895. Edited by Madison Bentley. An annual bibliography of psychological literature. BIBLIOGRAPHY 27 1 Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods — New York. Bi-weekly. 728 pages per volume. Founded 1904. Edited b}^ F. J. E. 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