Skip to main content

Full text of "The International Journal of Psycho-Analysis I 1920 Part 4"

See other formats









SIGM. FREUD, Vienna. 


A surprising number of people who have come in search of 
analytic treatment on account of an hysteria or of an obsessional 
neurosis admit that they have experienced the phantasy : "A child 
is being beaten''. Very probably it occurs even more often with 
other people who have not been obliged to come to this decision 
by an obvious illness. 

The phantasy has feelings of pleasure attached to it, and because 
of them it has been reproduced on countless occasions in the past 
or is even being reproduced still. At the climax of the imaginary 
situation there is almost invariably an onanistic gratification, that 
is to say, a gratification in the genitals. At first this takes place 
in accordance with the will of the person in question, but later 
on it does so in spite of his efforts, and with the characteristics 
of an obsession. 

It is only with hesitation that this phantasy is confessed to. 
Its first appearance is recollected with uncertainty. The analytic 
treatment of the subject is met by an unmistakable resistance. 
Shame and a sense of guilt are perhaps more strongly excited in 
this connection than when similar accounts are given of memories 

of the beginnings of sexual life, 

r OrFgrnaffnom 




; At last it becomes possible to establish that the first phantasies 
of this kind were entertained very early in life : certainly before 
school age, and not later than in the fifth or sixth year. When 
the child witnessed at school other children being beaten by the 
teacher, then, where the phantasies had become dormant, this 
experience called them up again, or, where they were still present^ 
it reinforced them, and noticeably modified their content. From 
that time on it was **an indefinite number*' of children that were 
being beaten. The influence of the school was so clear that the 
patients concerned were at first tempted to trace back their 
phantasies of beating exclusively to these impressions of school 
life, which dated from later than their sixth year. But it was never 
possible for them to maintain this position ; the phantasies had 
already been in existence before. 

Though the children were no longer beaten in the higher forms 
at school, the influence of these occasions was then replaced and 
more than replaced by the effects of reading, of which the im- 
portance was soon to be felt. In my patients* milieu it was almost 
always the same books whose contents gave a new stimulus to 
the phantasies of beating : those accessible to young people, such 
as the so-called Bibliotheque rose, "Uncle Tom's Cabin**, etc. The 
child now began to compete with these works of fiction by pro- 
ducing its own phantasies and by constructing a wealth of situations 
and even whole institutions, in which children were beaten or 
were punished and disciplined in some other way because of their 
naughtiness and bad behaviour. 

This phantasy — "A child is being beaten** — was invariably 
charged with a high degree of pleasure and had its issue in an 
act of pleasurable, auto-erotic gratification ; it might therefore be 
expected that the sight of another child being beaten at school 
would also be a source of similar enjoyment. But as a matter of 
fact this was never so. The experience of real scenes of beating 
at school produced in the child who witnessed them a peculiarly 
excited feeling which was probably of a mixed character and in 
which repugnance had a large share. In a few cases the real ex- 
perience of the scenes of beating was felt to be intolerable. 
Moreover, it was always a condition even of the artful phantasies 
of later years that the punishment should do the children no 
serious injury. 

The question was bound to arise of what relation there might 



be between the importance of the phantasies of beating and the 
part that real corporal punishment might have played in the 
education of the child at home. It was impossible, on account of 
the one-sidedness of the material, to confirm the first suspicion 
that the relation was an inverse one. The individuals from whom 
the data for these analyses were derived were very seldom beaten 
in their childhood, or were at all events not brought up by the 
help of the rod. Naturally, however, each of these children was 
bound to have become aware at one time or another of the 
superior physical strength of its parents or educators ; the fact that 
in every nursery the children themselves at times come to blows 
requires no special emphasis. 

With the early and simple phantasies which could not obviously 
be traced to the influence of school impressions or of scenes taken 
from books, one wished to carry the investigation farther. Who 
was the child that was being beaten? The one who was himself 
producing the phantasy or another ? Was it always the same child 
or as often as not a different one ? Who was it that was beating 
the child? A grown up person? And if so, who? Or did the child 
imagine that he himself was beating another one ? No information was 
produced for clearing up all these questions, nothing but the one timid 
reply : "1 know nothing more about it : a child is being beaten." 

Inquiries as to the sex of the child that was being beaten met 
with more success, but none the less brought no enlightenment. 
Sometimes the answer was: **Always boys'\ or "Only girls"; more 
often it was: **I don't know", or "It doesn't matter which". But 
the point to which the questions were directed, the discovery of 
some constant relation between the sex of the child producing 
the phantasy and that of the child that was being beaten, was 
never established. Now and again another characteristic detail of 
the content of the phantasy came to light: "The small child is 
being beaten on its naked bottom". 

In these circumstances it was impossible at first even to decide 
whether the pleasure attaching to the phantasy of beating was to 
be described as sadistic or masochistic. 


A phantasy of this kind which arises in early childhood, owing 
perhaps to some accidental occasion, and which is preserved for 

r I . Original from 



the purpose of auto-erotic gratification, can, in the light of our 
present knowledge, only be regarded as a primary trait of per- 
version. On this view, one of the components of the sexual function 
has developed in advance of the rest, has made itself prematurely 
independent, has become, "fixed" and in consequence withdrawn 
from the later processes of development, but has in this way 
given evidence of a peculiar and anomalous constitution in the 
individual. We know that an infantile perversion of this sort need 
not persist for a whole life-time; it can later on be subjected to 
repression, be replaced by a reaction-formation, or be transformed 
by sublimation. (It is possible, however, that sublimation arises out 
of some special process which would be kept in the background 
by repression.) But if these events do not take place, then the 
perversion persists to maturity; and whenever we find a sexual 
aberration in adults — perversion, fetishism, inversion — we are 
justified in expecting that anamnestic investigation will reveal some 
such "fixing" experience in childhood. Indeed, long before the 
days of psycho-analysis, observers like Binet were able to trace 
the remarkable sexual aberrations of maturity back to similar 
impressions and to precisely the same period of childhood, namely, 
the fifth or sixth year. But at this point the inquiry was brought 
up against the limitations of our knowledge; for the "fixing** im- 
pressions were without any traumatic force. They were banal for 
the most part, and had no exciting effect on other individuals. It 
was impossible to say why the sexual impulse had become "fixed'* 
particularly on to them. It was possible, however, to look for their 
significance in the fact that they provided an opportunity of fixation 
(even though it was an accidental one) for precisely that sexual 
component which was prematurely developed and was ready to 
spring forward. We had in any case to be prepared to find a pro- 
visional end somewhere or other to the chain of causal connection; 
and the congenital constitution seemed just to correspond with 
what was required for a stopping place of this kind. 

If the sexual component which has broken loose prematurely 
is the sadistic one, then we may expect, on the basis of knowledge 
derived from other sources, that a disposition to an obsessional 
neurosis will result from its subsequent repression. This expectation 
cannot be said to be contradicted by the results of inquiry. The 
present short paper is based upon the exhaustive study of six 
cases (four women and two men). Of these, two were cases ot 



obsessional neurosis; one extremely severe and incapacitating, the 
other of moderate severity and quite well accessible to influence. 
There was also a third case which at all events exhibited clearly 
marked individual traits of an obsessional neurosis. The fourth 
case, it must be admitted, was one of straightforward hysteria, 
with pains and inhibitions; and the fifth patient, who had come 
to be analysed merely on account of lack of decision in life, would 
not have been classified at all by coarse clinical diagnosis, or 
would have been dismissed as "psychasthenic'\ There is no need 
for feeling disillusioned over these statistics. In the first place, we 
know that every predisposition is not necessarily developed into 
a disorder; in the second place we ought to be content to explain 
the facts before us, and ought as a rule to avoid the additional 
task of making it clear why something has not taken place. 

The present state of our knowledge would allow us to make 
our way so far and no farther towards the comprehension of 
phantasies of beating. But in the mind of the analytical physician 
there remains an unquiet suspicion that this is not a final solution 
of the problem. He is obliged to admit to himself that to a gr^at 
extent these phantasies subsist apart from the rest of the content 
of the neurosis, and find no true place in its structure. But im- 
pressions of this kind, as I know from my own experience, are 
only too easily dismissed. 


Strictly considered — and why should this question not be 
considered with all possible strictness? — analytic work deserves 
to be recognised as correct psycho-analysis only when it has 
succeeded in removing the amnesia which conceals from the adult 
his knowledge of his childhood from its beginning (that is, from 
about the second to the fifth year). This cannot be said among 
analysts too emphatically or repeated too often. The motives for 
disregarding this reminder are, indeed, comprehensible. It would 
be desirable to obtain practical results in a shorter time and with 
less trouble. But at the present time theoretical knowledge is still 
far more important to all of us than therapeutic success, and 
anyone who neglects childhood analysis is bound to fall into the 
most disastrous errors. The emphasis which is laid here upon the 

voi 1-13 '^^^'" '^ UNIVERSITYOF MICHIGAN 


importance of the earliest experiences does not imply any under- 
estimation of the influence of later ones. But the later impressions 
of life speak loudly enough through the mouth of the patient, 
while it is the physician who has to raise his voice on behalf of 
the claims of childhood. 

It is in the years of childhood between the ages of two and 
four or five that the congenital libidinous factors are first awakened 
by actual experiences and become attached to certain complexes. 
The phantasies of beating which are now under discussion show 
themselves only towards the end of this period or after its ter- 
mination. So it may quite well be that they have an earlier history, 
that they go through a process of development, that they represent 
an end-product and not an initial expression. 

This suspicion is confirmed by analysis. A systematic application 
of it shows that phantasies of beating have an historical develop- 
ment which is by no means simple, and in the course of which 
they are changed in most respects more than once — as regards 
their relation to the author of the phantasy, and as regards their 
object, their content, and their significance. 

In order to make it easier to follow these transformations in 
the phantasies of beating I shall venture to confine my descriptions 
to the female cases, who, since they are four as against two, in 
any case constitute the greater part of my material. Moreover, 
phantasies of beating among men are connected with another 
subject which I shall leave on one side in this paper. In my de- 
scription I shall be careful to avoid being more schematic than is 
inevitable in presenting an average case. If then upon further 
observation a greater complexity of circumstances should come to 
light, I am nevertheless sure that I have secured a typical occurrence 
and not one of an uncommon kind. 

The first phase of phantasies of beating among girls must 
therefore belong to a very early period of childhood. Some features 
remain curiously indefinite, as though they were a matter of in- 
difference. The scanty information given by the patients in their 
first statement, "a child is being beaten'', seems to be justified as 
regards this phase. But another of their features can be established 
with certainty, and to the same effect in every case. The child 
being beaten is never the one producing the phantasy but is in. 
variably another child, most often a brother or a sister if there is 
any. Since this other child may be a boy or .^ girl, there is no 


constant relation between the sex of the child producing the 
phantasy and that of the child being beaten. The phantcisy, then, 
is certainly not masochistic. It would be tempting to call it sadistic, 
but one cannot neglect the fact that the child producing the 
phantasy is never doing the beating himself The actual identity 
of the person beating remains obscure at first Only this much 
can be established: it is not a child but an adult. Later on this 
indeterminate grown-up person becomes recognisable clearly and 
unambiguously as the (girl's) father. 

This first phase of the phantasy of beating is therefore com- 
pletely represented by the phrase: "My father is beating the child'*. 
I am betraying a great deal of what is to be brought forward 
later when instead of this I say: "My father is beating the child 
whom I hate'\ Moreover one may hesitate to say whether the 
characteristics of a "phantasy** can yet be ascribed to this first 
step towards the later phantasy of beating. It is perhaps rather a 
question of recollections of events which have been witnessed, or 
of desires which have arisen on various occasions; but these doubts 
are of no importance. 

Profound transformations have taken place between this first 
phase and the next. It is true that the person beating remains the 
same (that is, the father); but the child who is beaten has been 
changed into another one and is now invariably the child producing 
the phantasy. The phantasy is accompanied by a high degree of 
pleasure, and has now acquired a significant content, with the 
origin of which we shall be concerned later. Now, therefore, the 
wording runs: ''I am being beaten by my father". It is of an un-^ 
mistakably masochistic character. 

This second phase is the most important of all and the richest 
in consequences. But we may say of it in a certain sense that it 
has never had a real existence. It is never remembered, it has 
never succeeded in becoming conscious. It is a construction of 
analysis, but it is no less a necessity on that account. 

The third phase once more resembles the first. It has the 
wording which is familiar to us from the patient's statement. The 
person beating is never the father, but is either left undetermined 
just as in the first phase, or turns in a characteristic way into a 
representative of the father, such as a teacher. The figure of the 
child who is producing the phantasy of beating no longer itself 
appears in it. In reply to pressing inquiries,. ^, t,^e ,, patients only 



declare: "I am probably looking on'\ Instead of the one child that 
is being beaten, there are now a number of children present as 
a rule. Most frequently it is boys who are bemg beaten (in girls' 
phantasies), but none of them is personally known. The situation 
of being beaten, which was originally simple and monotonous, 
may go through the most compHcated alterations and elaborations ; 
and punishments and humiliations of another kind may be sub- 
stituted for the beating itself. But the essential characteristic which 
distinguishes even the simplest phantasies of this phase from those 
of the first, and which establishes the connection with the inter- 
mediate phase, is this: the phantasy now has strong and un- 
ambiguous sexual excitement attached to it, and so provides a 
means for onanistic gratification. But this is just what is puzzling: 
by what path has the phantasy of strange and unknown boys being 
beaten (a phantasy which has by this time become sadistic) found 
its way into the permanent possession of the little girl's libidinous 
tendencies ? 

Nor can we disguise the fact that the inter-relations and 
sequence of the three phases of the phantasy of beating, as well 
as all its other peculiarities, have so far remained quite incom- 


If the analysis is traced through the early period to which the 
phantasies of beating are referred and from which they are re- 
collected, it shows us the child involved in the agitations of its 
parental complex. 

The affections of the little girl are "fixed** upon her father; 
while he has probably done all he could to win her love, and 
in this way has sown the seeds of an attitude of hatred and 
rivalry towards her mother. This attitude exists side by side 
with a current of affectionate dependence upon her, and as years 
go on it may be destined to come into consciousness more and 
more clearly and forcibly, or to give an impetus to an excessive 
reaction of devotion to her. But the phantasy of beating is not 
connected with the relation to the mother There are other children 
in the nursery, only a few years older or younger, who are disliked 
on all sorts of other grounds, but chiefly because the parents' 



love has to be shared with them, and for this reason they are 
repulsed with all the wild energy characteristic of the emotional 
life of those years. If it is a younger brother or sister (as in three 
of my four cases) it is despised as well as hated ; and yet it 
attracts to itself the share of affection which the blinded parents 
are always ready to give to the youngest child, the spectacle of 
which cannot be avoided. One soon learns that being beaten, even 
if it does not hurt very much, signifies a deprivation of love and 
a humiliation. And many children who believed themselves securely 
enthroned in the unshakable affection of their parents have been 
cast down by a single blow from all the heavens of their imaginary 
omnipotence. The idea of the father beating this hateful child is 
therefore an agreeable one, quite apart from whether he has 
actually been seen doing it. It means: *'My father does not love 
this other child, he only loves meT 

This then is the content and meaning of the phantasy of beating 
in its first phase. The phajitasy obviously gratifies the child's 
jealousy and is dependent upon the erotic side of its life, but it 
is also powerfully reinforced by its egoistic interests. It remains 
doubtful, therefore, whether it ought to be described as purely 
*'sexual", nor can one venture to call it "sadistic^*. As is well 
known, all the signs upon which we are accustomed to base our 
distinctions tend to melt as we get nearer to the source. So 
perhaps we may say in words like those of the promise given by 
the three Witches to Banquo: Not clearly sexual, not in itself sadistic, 
but yet the stuff from which both will later come. In any case, 
however, there is no ground for suspecting that in this first phase 
the phantasy is already at the service of an excitement, which 
by involving the genitals finds its outlet in an onanistic act. 

It is clear that the sexual life of the child has reached the 
stage ot genital organisation, now that its incestuous love has 
made this premature choice of an object. This can be demonstrated 
more easily in the case of boys, but is also indisputable in the 
case of girls. Something like a premonition of what are later to 
be the final and normal sexual aims governs the libidinous tendencies 
of a child ; we may justly wonder why this should be so, 
but we may regard it as a proof of the fact that the genitals have 
already taken on their share in the state of excitement. With boys 
the desire to beget a child from their mother is never absent, with 
girls the desire to have a child by their father is equally constant ; 


and this in spite of their being completely incapable of forming 
any clear idea of the means for fulfilling this desire. The child 
seems to be convinced that the genitals have something to do 
with the matter, even though in its constant brooding it may look 
for the essence of the presumed intimacy between its parents in 
relations of another sort, such as in their sleeping together, 
micturating in each other's presence, etc.; and material of the latter 
kind can be more easily apprehended in verbal images than the 
mystery that is connected with the genitals. 

But the time comes when this early blossoming is nipped by 
the frost None of these incestuous loves can avoid the fate of 
repression. They may succumb to it on the occasion of some dis- 
coverable external event which leads to disillusionment — such 
as unexpected slights, the unwelcome birth of a new brother or 
sister (which is felt as faithlessness), etc. ; or the same thing may 
happen owing to inner conditions apart from any such events, 
perhaps simply because their yearning so long remains un- 
satisfied. It is unquestionably true that the events are not the 
effective causes, but that these love affairs are bound to be wrecked 
sooner or later, though we cannot say upon what. Most probably 
they pass because their time is over, because the children have 
entered upon a new phase of development, in which they are 
compelled to recapitulate from the history of mankind the repression 
of the choice of an incestuous object, just as at an earUer stage 
they were obliged to choose an object of this very sort^ {Cf. the 
part played by Fate in the myth of GEdipus), Nothing that is 
unconsciously present as a mental product of the incestuous 
emotion of love is taken over by consciousness in the new phase; 
and whatever had already come into consciousness is expelled 
from it At the same time as this process of repression takes place, 
a sense of guilt appears. This is also of unknown origin, but there 
is no doubt whatever that it is connected with the incestuous 
desires, and that it is justified by the persistence of these desires 
in the unconscious. 

The phantasy of the period of incestuous love had said: **He 

(my father) loves only me, and not the other child, for he is 

beating it" The sense of guilt can discover no punishment more 

severe than the reversal of this triumph: "No, he does not love 

* For an account of the phylogenetic equivalents of these two phases see 
The Psycho-Analytic Study of the Family, by J. C. FlUgel. [Ed,] 



you, for he is beating you.** In this way the phantasy of the 
second phase, that of being beaten by the father, is a direct ex- v 
pression of the sense of guilt, to which the love for the father 
is now subordinated. The phantasy, therefore, has become masochistic- 
So far as I know this is always so; a sense of guilt is invariably 
the factor that transforms sadism into masochism. But this is 
certainly not the whole content of masochism. The sense of guilt 
cannot have won the field alone; a share must also fall to the ^ 
emotion of love. We must remember that we are dealing with 
children in whom the sadistic component was able for constitutional 
reasons to develop prematurely and in isolation. We need not 
abandon this point of view. It is just those children who find it 
particularly easy to hark back to the pregenital, sadistic-anal 
organisation of their sexual life. If the genital organisation, when 
it has scarcely been effected, is met by repression, it not only 
follows that every mental counterpart of the incestuous love becomes 
unconscious, or remains so, but there is another result as well: 
a regressive debasement of the genital organisation itself to a 
lower level. "My father loves me" was meant in a genital sense; 
owing to the regression it is turned into **My father is beating 
me (I am being beaten by my father)". This being beaten is now ^ 
a meeting place between the sense of guilt and sexual love, // is '^ 
not only the punishment for the forbidden genital relation, but also 
the regressive substitute for it, and from this latter source it derives 
the libidinous excitement which is from this time forward attached 
to it, and which finds its outlet in onanistic acts. Here for the first 
time we have the essence of masochism. 

This second phase — the child^s phantasy of being itself beaten 
by its father — remains as a rule unconscious, probably in conse- 
quence of the intensity of the repression. I cannot explain why 
nevertheless in one of my six cases, that of a male, it was 
consciously remembered. This man, now grown up, had preserved 
the fact clearly in his memory that he used to employ the idea 
of being beaten by his mother for the purpose of onanism; though 
to be sure he soon substituted for his own mother the mothers 
of his school-fellows or other women who in some way resembled 
her. It must not be forgotten that when a boy's incestuous phantasy 
is transformed into the corresponding masochistic one, one more 
reversal has to take place than in the case of a girl, namely the 
substitution of passivity for activity ; and this additional degree of 

:3y t^:i^ 



distortion may save the phantasy from having to remain un- 
conscious as a result of repression. In this way the sense of guilt 
would be satisfied by regression instead, of by repression. In the 
female cases the sense of guilt, in itself perhaps more exacting, 
could be appeased only by a combination of the two. 

In two of my four female cases an artistic superstructure 
of day-dreams, which was of great significance for the life ol 
the person concerned, had grown up over the masochistic phan- 
tasy of beating. The function of this superstructure was to make 
possible the feeling of gratified excitement, even though the 
onanistic act was abstained from. In one of these cases the 
content — being beaten by the father — was allowed to venture again 
into consciousness, so long as the person's own ego was made 
unrecognisable by a thin disguise. The hero of these stories was 
invariably beaten (or later only punished, humihated, etc.) by 
his father. 

I repeat, however, that as a rule the phantasy remains un- 
conscious, and has first to be reconstructed in the course of the ana- 
lysis. This fact perhaps vindicates patients who say they remember 
that with them onanism made its appearance before the third 
phase of the beating phantasy (shortly to be discussed), and that 
this phase was only a later addition, made perhaps under the 
impression of scenes at school. Every time we gave credit to 
these statements, we always felt inclined to assume that the 
onanism was at first under the dominion of unconscious phantasies 
for which conscious ones were substituted later. 

We look upon the phantasy of beating in its familiar third 
phase, which is its final form, as a substitute of this sort. Here 
the child who produces the phantasy now appears at most as a 
spectator, while the father persists in the shape of a teacher or 
some other person in authority. The phantasy, which now resembles 
that of the first phase, seems to have become sadistic once more. 
It appears as though in the phrase, "My father is beating the 
other child, he loves only me", the stress has been shifted back 
on to the first part after the second part has undergone repression. 
But only the form of this phantasy is sadistic; the gratification 
which is derived from it is masochistic. Its significance lies in the 
fact that it has taken over the libidinous "charge" of the repressed 
portion and at the same time the sense of guilt which is attached 
to its content. All of the many indeterminate children who are 



being beaten by the teacher arc after all nothing more than sub- 
stitutes for the child itself. 

We find here for the first time too something like a constant 
relation of sex among the persons who play a part in the phantasy. 
The children who are being beaten are almost invariably boys, 
in the phantasies of boys just as much as in those of girls. This 
characteristic is naturally not to be explained by any rivalry 
between the sexes, as otherwise of course in the phantasies of 
boys it would be girls who were being beaten; and it has nothing 
to do with the sex of the child who was hated in the first phase, 
but it points to a complication in the case of girls. When they 
turn away from their incestuous love for their father, with its 
genital significance, they easily abandon their feminine role. They 
spur their "masculine complex** (v. Ophuijsen) into activity, and 
from that time forward only want to be boys. For that reason 
the whipping-boys who represent them are boys too. In both the 
cases of day-dreaming — one of which almost rose to the level of 
a work of art — the heroes were always young men ; indeed women 
used never to come into these creations at all, and only made 
their first appearance after many years, and then in minor parts. 


I hope I have brought forward my analytic observations in 
sufficient detail, and I should only like to remark that the six 
cases I have mentioned so often do not exhaust my material. 
Like other analysts, I have at my disposal a far larger number 
of cases which have been investigated less thoroughly. These 
observations can be made use of along various hnes: for eluci- 
dating the genesis of the perversioqs in general and of masochism 
in particular, and for estimating the part played by difference of 
sex in the dynamics of neurosis. 

The most striking result of such a discussion concerns the 
origin of the perversions. The view which brought into the fore- 
ground in this connection the constitutional reinforcement or 
premature growth of a single sexual component is not shaken, 
indeed; but it does not comprise the whole truth. The perversion 
is no longer an isolated fact in the child's sexual life, but falls 



into its place among the typical, not to say normal, processes of 
development which are familiar to us. It is brought into relation 
with the child's incestuous object-love, with its CEdipus complex. 
It first comes into prominence in the sphere of this complex, and 
after the complex has broken down it remains over, often quite 
by itself, the inheritor of its store of libido, and weighed down 
by the sense of guilt that was attached to it. The abnormal sexual 
constitution, finally, has shown its strength by forcing the CEdipus 
complex into a particular direction, and by compelling it to leave 
an unusual residue behind. 

A perversion in childhood, as is well known, can become the 
basis for the construction of a perversion having a similar sense 
and persisting throughout life, one which eats up the person's 
whole sexual life. On the other hand the perversion can be broken 
oflf and remain in the background of a normal sexual development, 
from which, however, it continues to withdraw a certain amount 
of energy. The former case is the one which was already known 
before the days of analysis, but the gulf between the two is almost 
filled up by the analytic investigation of fully developed per- 
versions of this sort. For we find often enough with these perverts 
that they too made an attempt at developing normal sexual activity, 
usually at the age of puberty. But their attempt had not enough 
force in it and was abandoned in the face of the first obstacles 
which inevitably arise, whereupon they fell back upon their in- 
fantile fixation once and for all. 

It would naturally be important to know whether the origin 
of the infantile perversions from the CEdipus complex can be 
maintained as a general principle. While this cannot be decided 
without further investigation, it does not seem impossible. When 
we recall the anamneses which have been obtained in adult cases 
of perversion we cannot fail to notice that the decisive impression, 
the "first experience'^ of all these perverts, fetishists, etc. is scarcely 
ever referred back to a time earlier than the sixth year At this 
time, however, the supremacy of the CEdipus complex is already 
over; the experience which is recalled, and which has been effective 
in such a puzzling way, may very well have represented the legacy 
of that complex. The connections between the experience and the 
complex which is by this time repressed are bound to remain 
obscure so long as analysis has not thrown any light on the time 
before the first "pathogenic" impression. So it may be imagined 



how little value is to be attached, for instance, to an assertion 
that a case of homosexuality is congenital, when the ground given 
for this belief is that ever since his eighth or sixth year the person 
in question has felt inclinations only towards his own sex. 

If, however, the derivation of perversions from the CEdipus 
complex can be generally established, our estimate of its importance 
will have gained added strength. For in our opinion the CEdipus 
complex is the nucleus itself of a neurosis, and the infantile 
sexuality which culminates in this complex is the true determinant 
of the neurosis. What remains of the complex in the unconscious 
represents the predisposition to the later development of neuroses 
in the adult. In this way the phantasy of beating and other ana- 
logous perverse fixations would also only be precipitates of the 
QEdipus complex, so to say scars after the process is completed, 
just as the notorious **feeling of inferiority" corresponds to a 
narcissistic scar of the same sort. In taking this view of the matter 
I must express my unreserved agreement with Marcinowski, who 
has recently put it forward most happily.^ As is well known, this 
neurotic delusion of insignificance is only a partial one, and is 
completely compatible with the existence of a self-overestimation 
derived from other sources. The origin of the CEdipus complex 
itself, and the destiny which compels man, probably alone among 
all animals, to begin his sexual life twice over, first like all 
other creatures in his early childhood, and then after a long inter- 
ruption once more at the age of puberty — all the problems that 
are connected with man's "archaic heritage'' — have been discussed 
by me elsewhere, and I have no intention of going into them in 
this place. 

Little light is thrown upon the genesis of masochism by our 
discussion of the phantasy of beating. To begin with there seems 
to be a confirmation of the view that masochism is not the 
primary expression of an impulse, but originates from sadism which 
has been turned round and directed against ihe self, that is to^ 
say, by means of regression from an object to the ego.* Impulses 
with a passive aim must from tlie first be admitted to exist, 
especially among women. But passivity is not the whole of 

« **Die erotischen Quellen der Minderwertigkeitsgefohle**, Zeitsckri/t ftlr 
Scxualwissenschaft, 1918, IV. 

> Cf, *Tricbc und Triebschicksale" in Sammlung klciner Schriften, 

IV. Folgc, 1918. ,^ . . , , 

^ r ] . Original from 




masochism. The characteristic of "pain" (Unlust) belongs to it as 
well, one so strange in the case of the gratification of an instinct. 
The transformation of sadism into masochism appears to be due 
to the influence of the sense of guilt concerned in the act ot 
repression. Repression, therefore, is operative here in three ways: 
it renders the consequences of the genital organisation unconscious, 
it compels this organisation itself to regress to the earlier sadistic- 
anal stage, and it transforms the sadism of this stage into masochism, 
which is passive and again in a certain sense narcissistic. The 
second of these three effects is made possible by the weakness 
of the genital organisation, which must be presupposed in these 
cases. The third becomes necessary because the sense of guilt 
takes the same objection to sadism as to the incestuous choice 
of an object with its genital implication. Again, the analyses do 
not tell us the origin of the sense of guilt itself. It seems to be 
brought along by the new phase upon which the child is entering, 
and if it afterwards persists it seems to correspond to a scar-like 
structure similar to the feeling of inferiority. According to our 
present orientation in the structure of the ego, which is as yet 
uncertain, we should assign it to that grade in the mental hierarchy 
(Instanz) which sets itself up as a critical conscience over against 
the rest of the ego, which produces Silberer's functional phenomenon 
in dreams, and which cuts itself loose from the ego in delusions 
of observation. 

We may note too in passing that the analysis of the childish 
perversion dealt with here is also of help in solving an old riddle 
— one which, it is true, has always troubled those who have not 
accepted psycho-analysis more than analysts themselves. Yet still 
recently even E. Bleuler regarded it as a remarkable and in- 
explicable fact that neurotics make onanism into the central point 
of their sense of guilt We have long assumed ^at this sense of 
guilt relates to the onanism of early childhood and not to that of 
puberty, and that in the main it is to be connected not with the 
act of onanism but with the phantasy which, although unconscious, 
lies at its root — that is to say, with the CEdipus complex. 

As regards the third and apparently sadistic phase of the 
phantasy of beating, I have already discussed the significance that 
it gains from carrying with it an excitement impelling towards 
onanism ; and I have shown how it arouses activities of phantasy, 
which on the one hand continue the phantasy along the same 

:3yGt \St 

«■ I y^i 1 1 I <.ii I I '.' I I 



line, and on the other hand neutralise it by way of compensation. 
Nevertheless the second phase, the unconscious and masochistic 
one, in which the child itself is being beaten by its father, is 
incomparably the more important Not only because it continues 
to operate through the agency of the phase that takes its place ; 
but we can also detect effects upon the character which are 
directly derived from its unconscious setting. People who harbour 
phantasies of this kind develop a special sensitiveness and ir-v/ 
ritability towards anyone whom they can put among the class of 
fathers. They allow themselves to be easily offended by a person 
of this kind, and in this w^ay (to their own sorrow and cost) 
bring about the realisation of the imagined situation of being beaten 
by their father. I should not be surprised if it were one day 
possible to prove that the same phantasy is the basis of the 
querulous delusions of paranoia. 


It would have been quite impossible to give a clear description 
of the infantile phantasies of beating if I had not limited it, except 
in one or two connections, to the state of things in women. I will 
repeat the facts shortly : the little girl's phantasy of beating goes 
through three phases, of which the first and third are consciously 
remembered, the middle one remaining unconscious. The two 
conscious phases appear to be sadistic, whereas the middle and 
unconscious one is undoubtedly of a masochistic nature ; its content 
consists in being beaten by the father, and it carries with it the 
store of libido and the sense of guilt In the first and third 
phantasies the child who is being beaten is always someone else; 
in the middle phase it is only the child itself; in the third phase 
it is almost invariably only boys who are being beaten. The person 
beating is from the first the father, but is later on a substitute 
taken from the class of fathers. The unconscious phantasy of the 
middle phase had primarily a genital significance, and developed 
by means of repression and regression out of an incestuous desire 
to be loved by the father. Another fact, though its connection 
with the rest does not appear to be close, is that between the 
second and third phases the girls change their sex, for in the 


phantasies of the latter phase , they turn into bQj 

v^Ut.)^lt: UNIVERSITY I 


I have not been able to get so far in my knowledge of 
phantasies of beating among boys, perhaps because my material 
was unfavourable. I naturally expected to find a complete analogy 
between the state of things in the case of boys and in that ot 
girls, the mother taking the father^s place in the phantasy. This 
expectation seemed to be fulfilled ; for the content of the boy s 
phantasy which was taken to be the corresponding one was ac- 
tually his being beaten by his mother (or later on by a substitute 
for her). But this phantasy, in which the boy^s own self was 
retained as the object, differed from the second phase in the girl's 
in that it was able to become conscious. If on this account, 
however, an attempt was made to draw a parallel between it and 
the third phase of the girl's phantasy, a new difference was found, 
for the boy's own person was not replaced by many, unknown, 
and undetermined children, least of all by many girls. Therefore 
the expectation of a complete parallelism was mistaken. 

My male cases with an infantile phantasy of beating comprised 
only a few who did not exhibit some other gross injury to their 
sexual activities, but on the other hand a fairly large number ol 
persons who would have to be described as true masochists in 
the sense of a sexual perversion. They were either people who 
obtained their sexual gratification exclusively from onanism 
accompanied by masochistic phantasies ; or they were people who 
had succeeded in combining masochism with their genital activity 
in such a way as to bring about erection and emission, or to 
carry out normal coitus with the help of masochistic contrivances 
and under similar conditions. In addition to this there was the 
rarer case in which a masochist is interfered with in his perverse 
activities by the appearance of obsessional ideas of unbearable 
intensity. Now perverts who can obtain gratification rarely have 
occasion to come in search of analysis. But as regards the three 
classes of masochists that have been mentioned there may be 
strong motives to induce them to go to an analyst. The masochistic 
onanist finds that he is absolutely impotent if after all he does 
attempt coitus with a woman; and the man who has hitherto 
effected coitus with the help of a masochistic idea or contrivance 
may suddenly make the discovery that the alliance which was so 
convenient for him has broken down, his genital organs no 
longer reacting to the masochistic stimulus. We are accustomed 
confidently to promise recovery to psychi£ally. .impotent patients 



who come to us for treatment; but we ought to be more guarded 
in making this prognosis so long as the dynamics of the disturbance 
are unknown to us. It comes as a disagreeable surprise if the 
analysis reveals the cause of the "merely psychicaP impotence to 
be a perfect masochistic attitude, perhaps deeply embedded since 

As regards these masochistic men, however, a discovery is 
made at this point which warns us not to pursue the analogy 
between their case and that of women any further at present, but 
to judge the matter independently. For the fact emerges that in 
their masochistic phantasies, as well as in the contrivances they 
adopt for their realisation, they invariably transfer themselves into 
the part of a woman ; that is to say, their masochistic attitude 
coincides with a feminine one. This can easily be demonstrated 
from details of the phantasies ; but many patients are even aware 
of it themselves, and give expression to it as a subjective con- 
viction. It makes no difference if in a fanciful embellishment ot 
the masochistic scene they keep up the fiction that a mischievous 
boy, or page, or apprentice is going to be punished. But the 
persons who administer chastisement are always women, both in 
the phantasies and in the contrivances. This is confusing enough; 
and the further question must be asked whether this feminine 
attitude already forms the basis of the masochistic element in the 
infantile phantasy of beating. 

Let us therefore leave aside consideration of the state of things 
in cases of adult masochism, which it is so hard to clear up, and 
turn to the infantile phantasy of beating in the male sex. Analysis 
of the earliest years of childhood once more allows us to make 
a surprising discovery in this field. The phantasy which has as its 
content being beaten by the mother, and which is conscious or 
can become so, is not a primary one. It possesses a preceding 
stage which is invariably unconscious and has as its content : 
'V am being beaten by my father". This preliminary stage, then, 
really corresponds to the second phase of the phantasy in the 
girl. The familiar and conscious phantasy: "I am being beaten by 
my mother," takes the place of the third phase in the girl, in 
which, as has been mentioned already, unknown boys are the objects 
that are being beaten. I was not able to demonstrate among boys 
a preliminary stage of a sadistic nature that could be set beside 
the first phase of the phantasy in girls, but I will not now express 



any final disbelief in its existence, for I can readily jsee the 
possibility of meeting with more complicated types. 

In the male phantasy — as I shall call it briefly, and, I hope^ 
without any risk of being misunderstood — the being beaten also 
stands for being loved (in a genital sense), though this has been 
reduced to a lower level owing to regression. So the original 
form of the unconscious male phantasy was not the provisional 
one that we have hitherto given : *'I am being beaten by my 
father", but rather : ''/ am laved by my father". The phantasy has 
been transformed by the processes with which we are acquainted 
into the conscious phantasy: '^I am being beaten by my motlur'\ 
The boy's phantasy of beating is, therefore, passive from the very 
beginning, and is derived from a feminine attitude towards his 
father. It corresponds to the CEdipus complex just as the feminine 
one (that of the girl) does; only the parallel relation which we 
expected to find between the two must be given up in favour of 
a common character of another kind. In both caies the phantasy 
of being beaten has its origin tn an incestuous attachment to the 

It will help to make matters clearer if at this point I enumerate 
the other similarities and differences between the phantasies of 
beating in the two sexes. In the case of the girl the unconscious 
masochistic phantasy starts from the normal attitude of the 
CEdipus Complex; in that of the boy it starts from the inverted 
attitude, in which the father is taken as the object of love. In the 
case of the girl there is a first step towards the phantasy (the first 
phase), in which the beating figures without any special significance 
and is performed upon a person who is viewed with jealous hatred. 
Both of these features are absent in the case of the boy, but this 
is precisely a difference which might be removed by more fortunate 
observation. In her transition to the conscious phantasy which 
takes the place of the unconscious one the girl retains the figure 
of her father, and in that way keeps unchanged the sex of the 
person beating; but she changes the figure and sex of the person 
being beaten, so that eventually a man is beating male children. 
The boy, on the contrary, changes the figure and sex of the person 
beating, by putting his mother in the place of his father; but he 
retains his own figure, with the result that the person beating 
nd the person being beaten are of opposite sexes. In the case 
f the girl the situation which was originally masochistic (passive) 



is transformed into a sadistic one by means of repression, and its 
sexual quality is effaced. In the case of the boy the situation 
remains masochistic, and shows a greater resemblance to the 
original phantasy with its genital significance, since there is a 
difference of sex between the person beating and the person being 
beaten* The boy evades his homosexuality by repressing and 
remodelling his unconscious phantasy; and the remarkable thing 
about his later conscious phantasy is that it has for its content 
a feminine attitude without the homosexual choice of object By 
the same process, on the other hand, the girl escapes from the 
demands of the erotic side of her life altogether. She turns herself 
in phantasy into a man, without herself becoming active in a 
masculine way, and is no longer anything but a spectator of the 
event which takes the place of a sexual act 

We are justified in assuming that no great change is effected 
by the repression of the original unconscious phantasy. Whatever 
is repressed from consciousness or replaced in it by something 
else remains intact and potentially operative in the unconscious. 
The effect of regression to an earlier stage of the sexual organi- 
sation is quite another matter. As regards this we are led to 
believe that the state of things changes in the unconscious as 
well: so that in both sexes the masochistic phantasy of being beaten 
by the father, though not the passive phantasy of being loved by 
him, lives on in the unconscious after repression has taken place. 
There are, besides, plenty of indications that the repression has 
only very incompletely attained its object The boy who has 
wanted to escape from the homosexual choice of object, and 
who has not changed his sex, nevertheless feels like a woman in 
his conscious phantasies, and endows the women who are beating 
him with masculine attributes and characteristics. The girl, who 
has even renounced her sex, and who has upon the whole ac- 
complished a more fundamental work of repression, nevertheless 
does not get free from her father; she does not venture to do 
the beating herself; and since she has herself become a boy, it is 
principally boys whom she causes to be beaten. 

I am aware that the differences that I have here described 
between the two sexes in regard to the nature of the phantasy 
of beating have not been cleared up sufficiently. But I shall not 
make the attempt to unravel these complications by tracing out 
their dependence upon other factors, as I dg o^t. consider that 



the material for observation is exhaustive. So far as it goes, 
however, I should like to make use of it as a test for two theories. 
These theories stand in opposition to one another, though both 
of them deal with the relation between repression and sexual 
character, and each, according to its own view, represents the 
relation as a very intimate one. I may say beforehand that I have 
always regarded both theories as incorrect and misleading. 

The first of these theories is anonymous. It was brought to 
my notice many years ago by a colleague with whom I was at 
that time on friendly terms. The theory is so attractive on account 
of its simplicity and comprehensiveness that the only wonder is 
that it should not have found its way into the literature hitherto 
except in a few scattered allusions. It is based upon the fact of 
the bisexual constitution of human beings, and asserts that the 
motive force of repression in each individual is a struggle between 
the two sexual characters. The dominating sex of the person, that 
which is the more strongly developed, has repressed the mental 
representation of the subordinated sex into the unconscious. 
Therefore the nucleus of the unconscious (that is to say, what is 
repressed) is in each human being that side of him which belongs 
to the opposite sex. Such a theory as this can only have an 
intelligible meaning if we assume that a person's sex is to be 
determined by the formation of his genitals; for otherwise it 
would not be certain which is the stronger sex of a person, and 
we should run the risk of reaching from the results of our inquiry 
the very fact which has to serve as its point of departure. To put 
the theory briefly: with men, what is unconscious and repressed 
can be traced back to the activity of feminine impulses ; and 
conversely with women. 

The second theory is of more recent origin. It is in agreement 
with the first one in so far as it too represents the struggle 
between the two sexes as being the decisive cause of repression. 
In other respects it comes into conflict with the former theory; 
moreover it looks for support to sociological rather than bio- 
logical sources. According to this theory of the "masculine protest**, 
formulated by Alfred Adler, every individual makes efforts not to 
remain on the inferior "feminine line of development'*, and struggles 
towards the masculine line of development, from which gratification 
can alone be derived. Adler makes the masculine protest respon- 
sible for the whole formation of character and n Un- 


fortunately he makes so little distinction between the two processes, 
which certainly have to be kept separate, and sets altogether so 
little store in general by the fact of repression, that to attempt 
to apply the doctrine of the masculine protest to repression brings 
with it the risk of being misunderstood. In my opinion such an 
attempt could only lead us to infer that the masculine protest, 
the desire to break away from the feminine line of development, 
was in every case the motive force of repression. What represses, 
therefore, would always be the activity of a masculine impulse, 
and what is repressed would be that of a feminine one. But 
symptoms would also be the result of a feminine activity, for we 
cannot discard the characteristic feature of symptoms — that 
they are substitutes for what is repressed, substitutes that have 
made their way out in spite of repression. 

Now let us take these two theories, which may be said to 
have in common a sexualisation of the process of repression, and 
test them by applying them to the example of the phantasy of 
beating which we have been studying. The original phantasy^ 
"I am being beaten by my father'', corresponds, in the case of 
the boy, to a feminine attitude, and is therefore an expression of 
that part of his disposition which belongs to the opposite sex. If 
this part of him undergoes repression the first theory seems shown 
to be correct; for this theory set it up as a rule that what belongs 
to the opposite sex is identical with what is repressed. It scarcely 
answers to our expectations, it is true, when we find that the 
conscious phantasy, which arises after repression has been ac- 
complished, nevertheless exhibits the feminine attitude once more, 
thougk this time directed towards the mother. But we will not go 
into these doubtful points, when the whole question can be so 
quickly decided. There can be no doubt that the original phantasy 
in the case of the girl, "I am being beaten (/. e, I am loved) by 
my father'', represents a feminine attitude, and corresponds to her 
dominating and manifest sex; according to the theory, therefore, 
it ought to escape repression, and there would be no need for 
its becoming unconscious. But as a matter of fact it does become 
unconscious, and is replaced by a conscious phantasy which 
disavows the girl's manifest sexual character. The theory is there- 
fore useless as an explanation of phantasies of beating and is 
contradicted by the facts. It might be objected that it is precisely 

in unmanly boys and unwomanly girls that Ihei^ phantasies ot 



beating appeared and had this history; or that it was a trait of 
femininity in the boy and of masculinity in the girl which must 
be made reponsible — that is, for the production of a passive 
phantasy in the boy, and its repression in the girl. We should be 
inclined to agree with this view, but it would be none the less 
impossible to defend the supposed relation between manifest 
sexual character and the choice of what is destined for repression. 
In the last resort we can only see that both in male and female 
individuals the activity of masculine as well as of feminine impulses 
is found, and that each can equally well undergo repression and 
so become unconscious. 

The theory of the masculine protest seems to maintain its 
ground very much better on being tested in regard to the 
phantasies of beating. In the case of both boys and girls the 
phantasy of beating corresponds to a feminine attitude — one, that 
is, in which the individual is lingering upon the feminine line ot 
development — and both sexes hasten to get free from this attitude 
by repressing the phantasy. Nevertheless it seems to be only with 
the girl that the masculine protest is attended with complete 
success, and in that instance indeed an ideal example is to be 
found of the operation of the masculine protest With the boy 
the result is not entirely satisfactory; the feminine line of develop- 
ment is not given up, and the boy is certainly not "on the top'* 
in his conscious masochistic phantasy. It would therefore agree 
with the expectations derived from the theory if we were to 
recognise that this phantasy was a symptom which had come into 
existence through the failure of the masculine protest It is a 
disturbing fact, to be sure, that the girl's phantasy originating in 
repression should also have the value and meaning of a symptom. 
In this instance, where the masculine protest has completely achieved 
its object, surely the determining condition for the construction 
of a symptom should be absent 

Before we are led by this difficulty to form a suspicion that 
the whole conception of the masculine protest is inadequate to 
meet the problem of neuroses and perversions, and that its appli- 
cation to them is unfruitful, we will for a moment leave the 
passive phantasies of beating and turn our attention to the mani- 
festations of other impulses in the sexual life of the child, — 
manifestations which have equally undergone repression. No one 
can doubt that ^ there ^a^^e also desires ^i54.iphw.t5jsies which keep 




to the masculine line of development from the very start, and 
which are the expression of the activity of masculine impulses — 
sadistic tendencies, for instance, or a boy*s lustful feelings towards 
his mother, which arise out of the normal CEdipus complex. It is 
no less certain that these impulses are also overtaken by repression. 
If the masculine protest is to be taken as having satisfactorily 
explained the repression of passive phantasies (which later become 
masochistic), then it becomes for that very reason totally inappli- 
cable to the opposite case of active phantasies. That is to say, 
the doctrine of the masculine protest is altogether incompatible 
with the fact of repression. Only those who are prepared to throw 
away all that has been acquired in psychology since Breuer's first 
cathartic treatment and by means of it can expect that the 
principle of the masculine protest will acquire any significance in 
the elucidation of the neuroses and perversions. 

The theory of psycho-analysis (a theory based upon observation) 
holds firmly to the view that the motive forces of repression must 
not be sexualised, Man^s archaic heritage forms the nucleus of the 
unconscious mind ; and whatever part of that heritage has to be 
left behind in the advance to later phases of development, because 
it is useless, or incompatible with what is new and harmful to it, 
falls a victim to the process of repression. This selection is made 
more successfully with one group of impulses than with the other. 
In virtue of special circumstances which have often been pointed 
out already, the latter group, that of the sexual impulses, are able 
to defeat the intentions of repression, and to enforce their re- 
presentation by substitutive structures of a disturbing kind. For 
this reason infantile sexuality, which is held under repression, acts 
as the chief impulsive force in the construction of symptoms; and 
the essential part of its content, the CEdipus complex, is the 
nuclear complex of neuroses. I hope that in this paper I have 
raised an expectation that the sexual aberrations of childhood, 
as well as those of mature life, are ramifications of the same 

C^ nonl^ OrFginaf from 



FREDERIC J. FARNELL, Providence, Rhode Island. 

"It is in and through symbols that man, consciously or un- 
consciously, lives, works, and has his being; those ages, moreover, 
are accounted the noblest which can the best recognize symbolical 
worth and prize it the highest**. 

The old saying, *'Tell me what you read and I will tell you 
what you are", is surely a truism. The creative instincts of the 
growing boy, the adoration and effectiveness of the pubescent girl, 
are oftentimes their feelings kept buried through their reading 
matter. And yet, what is it in their reading which keeps these 
tastes and feelings alive? Is it not the word symbolization which 
speaks to the unconscious life, or better, in reality the author's 
unconscious life speaking to our unconscious life.^ 

The fact that authors reveal more than they intend and that 
that which is revealed is an objective product directly related to 
the life of the writer is a factor of recognized psychological deter- 
mination. Instead of literature being flooded with foolish, meaningless 
and purposeless verse or prose, which is the written expression of the 
literary man, it can be demonstrated that no expression, however 
trifling ii may appear on the surface, is unmotivated. 

The general attitude of people is to recognize poetry and the 
novel as a beautiful piece of material, probably portraying a 
wonderful character or a well worked out plot, just as they do 
a piece of statuary or a picture, that is, they are satisfied with 
the surface when the real genuine value of the poem or the novel 
is the interpretation of the writer's own feelings. 

The feelings of the writer are the sum total of his reading, 
his early education, his contact with others in this world, his 
fortunes and misfortunes, his parental relations and influences, his 
infantile repressions, youthful love affairs and such problems which 
have entered into his inner life. Hence all this will tend to influence 
his productions, colored and directed by his ideas and emotions. 


His present and his past, his secret aspirations and his most 
intimate ^^soulfur* feelings are bound to crop out in his verse or 
his prose, manifesting here his love, there his hatred, again a faulty 
adjustment^ now a gratified wish. 

With a few facts about an author and his works before you, 
one can readily size up the man, analyze his strong characteristics 
and interpret much in his writings as indications of strength or 
manifestations of weakness in his personality or make-up. These 
indications of strength or manifestations of weakness are the con- 
trolling force, and direct his life energy into avenues which meet 
his interests and offer to him a satisfaction for the time. The 
weaknesses are usually undeveloped phases of his personahty 
and revert to the infantile. This infantile life plays a great part 
in the later life of the writer. That power or influence exerted by 
the parents upon the child (author), his unconscious attachment to 
his mother and the perseveration of this first love-model in his 
mind, make it difficult, on reaching the adult life, when love is 
sought outside the family, to reach a satisfactory model. Nature 
demands at puberty a separation from the parent and the development 
of an independent existence. When this separation is prevented, 
because the parents cannot endure the apparent loss, or owing 
to an inner conflict and struggle which fails to separate it, changes 
in the personality occur, producing jealousy, criticism, hatred, 
irritability or over-determined sympathy, coddling, timidity, fear. 
Here in childhood and youth are laid the seeds of one's future 
emotional life; it has been stated: "That belief and conduct are 
the seeds and fruit of a hidden soul." 

Keeping in mind that the infantile life of a child is poly- 
morphous perverse, meaning that many forms of perversion exist 
freely and do not become fixed until after puberty, which fixation 
is dependent upon the developed personality, environment, friendship, 
etc., it can readily be seen that at least four so-called abnormal 
types may be developed and fixed at the pubescent stage. 

Let us develop one or two types as manifested by literary 
productions, discussing first inversion, conscious or unconscious. 
Children do display friendships for members of their own sex; 
in later life attachments may remain. Further strengthening of 
this abnormal development is the loss of paternal control and the 
increasing of a mother love. This love is soon repressed and he 
identifies himself with his mother but loves other boys like himself. 



He may like women but he will transfer any excitation for them 
to a boy in order to be faithful to his mother. 

In literature this sublimated inversion or homosexuality is 
manifest by excessive grief and sorrow or intense devotion. In 
Tennyson's "In Memoriam" 

More than my brothers are to me, — 

Let this not vex thee, noble heart! 

I know thee of what force thou art 
To hold the costUest love in fee. 

For this alone on Death I wreak 

The wrath that gamers in my heart ; 

He put our lives so far apart 
We cannot hear each other speak. 

Whereas in **The Dead Poet", by Oscar Wilde, devotion is quite 


I dreamed of him last night 

I saw his face 

All radiant and unshadowed of distress 

And as of old, in music measureless, 

I heard his golden voice and marked him trace 

Under the common thing the hidden grace 

And conjure wonder out of emptiness 

Till mean things put on beauty like a dress 

And all the world was an enchanted place. 

There is no doubt that society should see that man learns 
from experience, but the poet or artist, in general, rarely does, 
because he is as a rule fundamentally abnormal. Conventionalities 
and rules of society are presumably made by normal people for 
normal people. Defeat of these rules is not always the best, but 
oftentimes artists are the greatest losers even though a compromise 
may be possible, since there are personalities in which a com- 
promise is impossible; that is, where the antagonism in the in- 
dividual personality is between the spirit and the flesh and where 
to sacrifice one for the other would be a peril. Such an individual 
was Paul Verlaine. He writes in his "Confessions", "... in 
the beginning there was no question of any sort of affection or 



sympathy between two natures so different as that of the poet ot 
the "Asis" (Arthur Rimbaud) and mine, but simply of an extreme 
admiration and astonishment before this boy of sixteen, who had 
already written things". This passed, however, into personal feeling 
and both Verlaine and Rimbaud began a life of vagabondage, 
wandering about until Verlaine was arrested in Brussels and 
sentenced to jail for eighteen months on a charge of homosexuahty. 
Verlaine was a man of sensation, so to speak, a dreamer, filled 
with passion, love and spiritual humility. Rimbaud, on the contrary, 
a man of action. (This manifests the inhibitive female male character.) 
Without going into detail, the poems of both writers show clearly 
the various stages of their lives, evincing their devotion and 
friendship, Verlaine's unhappy marriage and conversion into 
Catholicism, as well as Rimbaud^s attempt to manifest omnipotence. 

Another phase of perversion is seen in the so-called fixation 
of the libido or energy in the sadistic component. That is, the 
great desire to "hurt" in order to receive one's pleasure. In the 
beginning the pleasure is obtained in or from the pleasure or 
erogenous zones, it is auto-erotic; later it is obtained through 
other persons as sexual objects either by injury to body or mind, 
by striking or injurying the body or by strong verbal language. 
There may be partial infantile impulses such as exhibiting one's 
self, touching or looking. Boccaccio's ^'Decameron" is the author's 
attempt to revel in his repressed exhibitionism by causing the 
characters to expose themselves and hence reach an infantile 
reaction. (Do not parents laugh and enjoy watching their little 
children romping about the room naked?). 

Jack London, in his "Sea Wolf says " . . . . and the body 
shall be cast into the sea". How many fights occur in his novel, 
how many individuals are killed, ** . . . and their bodies cast into 
the sea?" This desire to devour at all cost, or, better, to keep one's 
self from being devoured, is merely a defense mechanism. Even 
in his attempted love affair with Maud only those trying ex- 
periences, calling for endurance, grit, and trials which wear out 
the body, come forth; wear them out, hurt them slowly, another 
sadistic expression. In real life London boasted as a fighter. 

The opposite of the sadistic is the masochistic component, 
meaning a pleasure obtained from suffering injury to self. Edgar 
Allen Poe provides examples in his "Purloined Letter" ; "The Masque 
of the Red Death''; "The Murders in the Rue Morgue'', which are 



all examples of Poe^s repressed masochism, a qualitative not a 
quantitative disturbance, but one absolutely essential to the per- 
sonality of Poe. He was a man who hid his intimacy with the 
beautiful and joyful and his passionate mental character from us. 
The more revolting, horrible and distasteful he could be in his 
creative imagination, evolving spirits of annoyance throughout his 
writings, the more he compensated for his secrecy and intimacy 
with the beautiful and joyful which were hidden. 

The narcissistic component which is the fixation of the sexual 
life in the love for itself, its own body, is a basis for the develop- 
ment of egoism which is manifest in many literary individuals. 

In America probably the most objective author of this type is 
Walt Whitman, whose narcissistic life is sublimated in many 
beautiful poems. In the "Song of Myself he says, 

While they discuss I am silent and go bathe and admire mysell 
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me and of any man 

hearty and clean 
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile and none shall be less 

familiar than the rest — 
Having pried through the strata, analyzed to a hair, counseled with 

doctors and calculated close 
I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my bones — 
Divine am I, inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am 

touched from. 
The scent of these armpits* aroma finer than prayer 
The head more than churches, bibles and all creeds 
If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the 

spread of my body or any part of it 
Translucent mould of me it shall be you! 
I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious. 

It is said that Walt Whitman was greatly upset when he 
became aware of the fact that some critics referred to him as a 
homosexual and took occasion to write to a literary friend stating 
that he would have preferred never to have written certain poems 
(Calamus) if he gave anyone the impression that he was a homo- 
sexual. This sudden outburst of a defensive type rather over- 
determines the query and might have a tendency to strengthen 
the existence of the unconscious inversion. 

f^nonl^ Orrgmaffnonn 



In Belgium, however, Joris-Karl Huysmans, grouped by Huneker 
with the Hterary egoists, is probably one of the most distinctly re- 
pressive writers of the last century. From an early age he was 
a pessimist whose philosophy was that "sensation is the one cer- 
tainty in a world, which may be well or ill arranged for each of 
us, what each of us feels it to be*\ The world to him was un- 
comfortable, unpleasant, ridiculous, — full of wretchedness. Values 
between the ugly and the beautiful were nil, everything was rated 
from the ugly or the disagreeable. Huysman is described as a cat 
which was courteous, perfectly polite, almost amiable, but all nerves 
ready to shoot out his claws at the least word. His indifference 
was characteristic in all environments, one of snarling at and 
criticizing others. He would answer with an accent of a pained 
surprise, an amused look of contempt and just slaughter any idea 
or reputation. With this developmental disorder in his personality 
there were the corresponding sexual inversions, his obstinacy 
and pessimism suppressing the normal sexual outlet which 
resulted in the production of the **En Manage", a story of one 
dissatisfied with life, complaining of the injustice of his fate 
(a defense mechanism). Later **A Rebours" brings forth his hatred 
of life, its utter hopelessness, but throughout is woven a feeling 
of contact with nature which produc es or excites his physical 
only to be repressed. This is followed by *^En Rade" which is the 
narration of state of nerves in a cat which becomes intensely 
interesting to him in the agonies that it passes through, at the 
same time he attempts to bore the reader with detail. (This is an 
early sadistic tendency, cruelty to animals). "La-Bas^* is probably 
the only story of a case of Sadism, in a woman, depicted in 
literature. Symons says, **He manipulates the French language 
with a freedom sometimes barbarous^'. Thus far one observes a 
distinct pessimist with an exaggerated ego manifesting a homosexual 
component complimented by sadism and narcissism. The psycho- 
sexual personality dominated the greater part of his life. At the 
age of forty-seven, probably a psycho-biological change took place 
and an attempt to "find himself" is manifest in his novel **En 
Route^\ It is really a self analysis — an attempt to work out his 
own salvation, or one might say, an apology for being so rude^ 
so harsh, so hateful, so disturbingly distasteful and at the same 
time an attempt to balance his troubled mind by thinking only 
in the soul-life, the spiritual life and the "uselessness of thinking 



about anything but God". Finally "LaCath6drale'* is produced which 
carries his attitude of mind further into the religious world. At 
about this time (age fifty) he becomes converted, or, better, reverted 
to Catholicism. With this he lost the distinctive character of his 
early writings, — it softened and it broadened. One might theorize 
at this point as to the relation of his biological changes to his 
resorting to religion for mental compensation, — did this biological 
change bring about a complete physical abstinence and as a result 
he entered this religious life in which the actual disappointments 
of his true life were ignored and replaced by mystical, religious 
fancies which served to fulfil his repressed wishes? 

The love poems of Shelley portray clearly a more or less 
continuous unsatisfied craving for love. At the age of nineteen he 
was jilted by his cousin. This called for a marked emotion and 
repression which became manifest in his poems Julian and Maddalo, 
there sketching a most disastrous love disappointment. He marries 
rather upon the impulse but not with genuine love. He wishes to 
have a woman who loves him live with him and his wife. His 
wife deserts him and later commits suicide, following which Shelley 
marries the woman with whom he had had a platonic friendship. 
He, again, finding his love not fully satisfied, begins a platonic 
friendship with a sister-in-law (who later committed suicide) ind 
Byron's mistress, yet it seemed he could not become satisfied; 
he craved love and hence his production of the "Ode to the 
West Wind'\ Wind in phallic worship is a fructifier and a creator, 
— in Hiawatha, Wenonah courts with the West Wind and becomes 
pregnant Shelley had, just previously to writing this Ode, lost a 
girl child, his wife was depressed and he was craving love. 

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, 
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead 
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, 

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red. 
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, 
Who chariotest to their dark, wintry bed 

The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, 
Each like a corpse within its grave, until 
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow 

r . OriginaffrDm 



Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill 
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) 
With living hues and odours plain and hill: 

Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; 
Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear! 

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: 
What if my leaves are falling like its own! 
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies 

Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, 
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou. Spirit fierce. 
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! 

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe 
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth ! 
And, by the incantation of this verse. 

Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth 
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! 
Be through my lips to unawakened earth 

The trumpet of a prophecy! O, Wind, 

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? 

During the next year still craving love and happiness he 
manifests his envy in **To the Skylark**, He feels he has had sad 
love to the fullest degree and that the finding of his idea has 
not been obtained. He has pined for what he could not have and 
would just like to be happy like a bird flying graciously through 
the air without annoyance or disturbance. 

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! 

Bird thou never wert 
That from Heaven, or near it, 

Pourest thy full heart 
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art 

C^ nn n i 1 -^ Origin a f fro m 



What objects are the fountains 

Of thy happy strain? 
What fields, or waves, or mountains? 

What shapes of sky or plain? 
What love of thine own kind ? What ignorance of pain ? 

With thy clear keen joyance 

Languor cannot be : 
Shadow of annoyance 

Never came near thee : 
Thou lovest — but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. 

Waking or asleep, 

Thou of death must deem 
Things more true and deep 

Than we mortals dream, 
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? 

We look before and after. 

And pine for what is not: 
Our sincerest laughter 

With some pain is fraught; 
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 

Yet, if we could scorn. 

Hate, and pride, and fear; 
If we were things bora 

Not to shed a tear, 
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. 

Better than all measures 

Of delightful sound. 
Better than all treasures 

That in books are found. 
Thy skill to poet were, thou scomer of the ground ! 

Teach me half the gladness 

That thy brain must know, 

I , Originaffnonn 



Such harmonious madness 
From my lips would flow 
The world would listen then — as I am listening now. 

Two years before his death he meets his sweetheart, Mrs. Williams, 
and writes many short and beautiful lyrics inspired by her and 
produced because he could not attain her full love, — she was 
another man*s wife. 

"Prometheus Unbound" and "The Revolt of Islam" are probably 
defense writings indicating his ideals against the suffering he had 
undergone in his jilted love affair and his later unreciprocated 
love. He wants it known that reformers should not lose their lovers 
because they are reformers. 

In Keats, also, one observes a similar mechanism, one based 
quite clearly upon a transferred love from his mother, who marries 
a second time, (OEdipus displacement complex), to a sweetheart, 
Fanny Brawne. He came to grief, however, with Fanny, and then 
sought his compensation in nature^s beauty by writing, yet main- 
taining his passionate love for her. In his "Ode on a Grecian Um", he 
identifies himself with the Greek on the Urn who has no more chance 
of winning the love of Fanny than he himself He thus expresses 
his unsatisfied desires, by creating beauty out of sorrow. 

Thou still unravishM bride of quietness, 

Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, 
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express 

A flowery tale more sweetly than a rhyme : 
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape 

Of deities or mortal, or of both. 

In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? 

What men or gods are these ? What maidens loath ? 
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? 

What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? 

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 

Are sweeter ; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on ; 

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, 
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: 

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave 
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; 



Bold Lover, never, never canst thou Idss, 
Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve ; 
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, 
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! 

Ah! happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed 

Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu ; 
And, happy melodist, unwearied. 

For ever piping songs for ever new ; 
More happy love ! more happy, happy love ! 

For ever warm and still to be enjoyM, 
For ever panting and for ever young; 

All breatliing human passion far above. 
That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy'd, 

A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. 

Who are those coming to the sacrifice? 

To what green altar, O mysterious priest, 
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies. 

And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? 
What little town by river or sea-shore. 

Or mountain-built, with peaceful citadel. 
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn? 

And, little town, thy streets for evermore 
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell 

Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. 

O Attic shape ! fair attitude ! with brede 

Of marble men and maidens overwrought, 
With forest branches and the trodden weed; 

Thou, silent form ! dost tease us out of thought 
As doth eternity. Cold Pastoral ! 

When old age shall this generation waste, 
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe 

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, 
*Beauty is truth, truth beauty, — that is all 

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know/ 

Not long after he produced "The Ode to a Nightingale'*, which 
evinces his sadness and a pining for the love of Fanny. He envies 

r ] « ...ii..iiiial from 



the happiness of the bird, talks of taking wine and asks the bird 
to take him from that environment which causes youths to pine 
and fail in health (the life of unsatiated love); he wishes to fly 
away in phantasy through poetry, with a nightingale. He looks 
upon the song of the nightingale as one of everlasting beauty, 
one of magic charm used by fairies, and while in this day-dream 
life (in which his actual discomforts are met) he suddenly feels 
he must come back to himself and suffer those tormenting thoughts 
which fancy could not cheat, but which Fanny has known to 
have done. 

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains 

My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk. 
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains 

One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 
Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, 

But being too happy in thy happiness 

That thou, light winged Dryad of the trees^ 
In some melodious plot 
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, 
Singest of summer in full-throated ease. 

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget 

What thou among the leaves hast never known. 
The weariness, the fever, and the fret 

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; 
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs, 

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; 
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow 
And leaden-eyed despairs; 
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes 

Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. 

Thou wast not bom for deaths immortal Bird! 

No hungry generations tread thee down ; 
The voice I hear this passing night was heard 

In ancient days by emperor and clown : 

r . Original from 



Perhaps the self-same song that found a path 

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home. 
She stood in tears amid the alien com; 
The same that oft-times hath 
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam 
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn* 

Forlorn! the very word is Jike a bell 

To toll me back from thee to my sole self- 
Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well 

As she is famed to do, deceiving elf 
Adieu! Adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades 

Past the near meadows, over the still stream, 
Up the hill-side; and now *tis buried deep 
In the next valley-glades: 
Was it a vision, or a waking dream? 

Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep? 

Before closing it would seem quite apropos to outline, as 
briefly as possible, the comparative relation of Shakespeare's life 
and his productions, keeping in mind the hidden meanings in 
his plays. 

He was bora in 1564 and married in 1583 to Anne Hathaway, 
seven years his senior, under force by an attorney. Six months 
after marriage a child was bora. In 1593, approximately, "Venus 
and Adonis", and a year later "The Rape of Lucrece** were published. 
Both are manifest productions of a highly sensuous type, giving 
one an early insight into Shakespeare's sexual character. At about 
this same time "The Comedy of Errors'* was produced, which 
depicts a very jealous, raving wife. Whose wife? — may she not be 
Shakespeare's wife? "King Henry VI" shows Margaret to be the 
same as Adriana and Suffolk is probably Shakespeare, for he refers 
to his forced marriage by an attoraey, — he says, "For what is 
wedlock forced but a hell, an age of discord and continual strife" 
Incompatibility at home is manifest in "King John", where one sees 
Constance, his wife, manifesting a passionate love and a maddening 
jealousy in Arthur (Shakespeare), who is distinctly neglecting her. 
He then evolves his ideal woman, and in his creative fancies he 
brings forth "A Midsummer Night^s Dream" and "The Two Gentlemen 
of Verona", in which Julia is his ideal. This conflict, both conscious 

r . Orrgmaffnom 



and unconscious, called forth **The Taming of the Shrew", in which 
the husband finally tames Katharina, that is, Shakespeare controls 
his wife. 

He becomes acquainted with Mary Fitton, a lady in waiting in 
Queen Elizabeth's Court, and falls desperately in love with her, 
transferring his feelings in abundance as seen in "Romeo and Juliet", 
**Much Ado about Nothing" (Beatrice-Mary), "As You Like It"* (Rosalind- 
Mary). During this time he manifests his love and lavishes it greatly 
upon her as is also seen in his sonnets numbers 127 — 152. According 
to Brown, he includes sonnets 127 — 152 in the sixth grouping 
under the title of "To his Mistress on her infidelity", Beeching 
refers to this group as for the most part written to or about a 
"Dark Lady". Throughout these sonnets are expressions of love, 
anguish, blind wrath and disgust, thus manifesting the various 
moods and feelings offered to some one (Mary Fitton) during 
this period. 

Sonnet 127 

In the old age black was not counted fair. 
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name ; 
But now is black beauty's successive heir. 
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame ; 
For since each hand hath put on nature's power. 
Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face. 
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower. 
But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace. 
Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black. 
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem 
At such, who not born fair, no beauty lack. 
Slandering creation with a false esteem: 
Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe. 
That every tongue says, beauty should look so. 

However, Shakespeare attempts to adjust himself to this entire 
episode by producing **AU's Well that Ends Well". 

The adjustment was unsuccessful; jealousy, mental unrest and 
revenge come forth as seen in "Julius Caesar". Jn "Hamlet", also, the 
CEdipus Complex is manifest in Hamlet's (Shakespeare's) jealousy 
of Polonius-Herbert, whose intentions are to marry Mary — (mother- 

r I . Original from 



wife-sweetheart) for stealing his love and preventing his happiness. 
This is further emphasized in "Othello" in which Othello^s jealousy 
of Desdemona is over-determined by even changing the color, 
education and surroundings. These are, therefore, defense mechanisms 
on the part of Shakespeare. 

However, the climax is reached when Mary gives birth to an 
illegitimate child by Herbert for it causes Shakespeare to setde 
into an intense mental state directly related to his disappointed 
love with Goneril-Mary as seen in "King Lear." He expresses his 
intense ingratitude in tainted thoughts relative to her wantonness 
by saying : 

" . . • a disease that's in my flesh, which I must needs call mine; 

thou art a boil, 
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle 

In my corrupted blood". 

**Macbeth" follows, a play in which Lady MacbethVMar/s defiance 
and defense is, through the mechanism of hysteria, beautifully 
portrayed with dreams both waking and sleep. She is suffering 
from ruminations. 

As this is the first of the series it might merely be an attempt 
at a description of his mistress although the use of the terms 
"black", "mourners", etc., may be identified with disposition and 
point towards a frailty in morals on her part 

Sonnet 142 

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, 
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving. 
O ! but with mine compare thou thine own state. 
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; 
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine. 
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments, 
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine, 
RobbM others' beds revenues of their rents. 
Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lov'st those 
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee : 
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows, 
Thy pity may deserve to pity'd be. 
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide. 
By self-example may^st thou be deny^d ! 

r I . Original from 



It is apparent in this sonnet that Shakespeare was beginning 
to feel the lack of reciprocate love and recognized her hatred not 
because his love was sinful, but because she loved sinfully, 
someone else. 

The relation of love to hatred in this sonnet is not unHke the 
projection mechanism in the delusional systems of paranoia. But 
Shakespeare adjusts his difficulty by upbraiding and abusing her 
through words as is seen in Sonnet 147. 

"For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright 
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night''. 

Lee says in his criticism, that it may be possible that Shakespeare 
did meet some dark complexioned siren in real life and it is 
possible he may have fared ill at her disdainful hands. There is 
hardly a question that such was the truth for one observes 
the gradual subsidence of feeling in the last few sonnets of this 
group as well as the public announcements of his feeling as seen 
in *^Love's Labour's Lost" in which Biron (Shakespeare) describes 
Roseline (Mary Fitton) to the public at Whitehall in 1597, 
calling her 

**A whitely wanton with a velvet brow 

With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes". 

In this play, Shakespeare questions Mary's faithfulness, which has 
been weaned by Lord William Herbert 
In Sonnet 152 Shakespeare says 

In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn. 

But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing 

In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, 

In vowing new hate after new love bearing. 

But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee. 

When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most; 

For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee. 

And all my honest faith in thee is lost: 

For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness. 

Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; 

And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness, 

r I . Original fi...... 



X)r made them swear against the thing they see; 
For I have sworn thee fair: more perjur'd I, 
To swear, against the truth, so foul a lie. 

He evidently regrets seriously all his attempts to idealize her 
and recognize her as one possessed of "deep kindness". All his 
feelings of love, jealousy, lustful activities, and so forth, were 
merely selfish motives misused by her and emptying into an 
empty-faithless space. He does not question her love, now, as he 
observes the closeness of Lord Herbert to her. Any breakage of 
promises on her part was double, so to speak, Shakespeare's 
method of squaring himself by the process of resolution, even after 
the confession made in Sonnet 119. 

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, 

Distiird from limbecks foul as hell within, 

Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears, 

Still losing when I saw myself to win! 

What wretched errors hath my heart committed, 

Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never! 

How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted, 

In the distraction of this madding fever! 

O benefit of ill! now I find true. 

That better is by evil still made better; 

And ruin'd love, when it is built anew. 

Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater. 

So I return rebuk'd to my content, 

And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent. 

However, Shakespeare attempts to adjust himself to this episode in 
the production ** All's Well that Ends Well". There are two possi- 
bilities — either give her up or forgive her. But Shakespeare meets 
the dilemma by producing both possibilities, forgiving her and then 
giving her up, at least, she gives up. "Antony and Cleopatra" brings 
out this feature, — Antony-Shakespeare gives free play to his feelings 
of intense love and Cleopatra-Mary, who has been heretofore 
antagonistic and irritating with taunts and jibes now wishes to be 
forgiven. Antony does forgive her and she, to avoid both Caesar 
and "a scandal" kills herself. This is not a compromise but a 
resolution — full play of tendencies and feelings are made — there 



IS nothing repressed — both Antony and Cleopatra expressed their 
feelings and all of their nature or feeling participated. When Mary 
left him in death he fell into despair, grew very nervous and went 
home. He lost his wife early in his sensual career and now he 
has lost his wanton-mistress sweetheart. He turns to his mother 
and his daughter. His sublimations are now directed towards his 
*'dear mother" whom he has never rendered enough courtesy or 
done enough for as is seen in "Coriolanus", Volumina being his 
mother. He also sought the tenderness and care of his daughter 
Judith and writes his later plays centred about her love and 
tenderness as seen in "Pericles" (Mariana), "The Tempest" (Miranda) 
and "A Winter's Tale" (Perdita),. 

Such may have been Shakespeare's life as seen through his 
heterosexual love in his plays. Whereas the conjectured dates 
according to Neilson and Thomdike do not agree exactly with the 
order as given above, especially so with the earlier plays, there is 
sufficient elasticity and over-lapping to allow for this readjustment, 
basing it entirely upon the various apparent stages in Shakespeare's 
love life. 

La Rochefoucauld recognized that life was often possible only 
by a process of self-deception, but that too much deception caused 
both individual and social evils. How helpful, however, it has been 
to us in this discussion of erotism as manifest in literature. 

C^ nonl^ Orrgmaf from 



L. C. MARTIN, Sorbonne, Paris. 

Freud's theory of the unconscious, which has been before the 
world for many years but which until recently has been known to 
few outside an esoteric group of professional psychologists and 
mental specialists, is to-day attracting the interest of an ever 
widening circle of those who recognize its general philosophical 
importance or its practical bearing on many problems of social 
life. So far, however, it seems to have lacked the last and ctouti- 
ing reward of new intellectual departure — an academic disser- 
tation seeking to prove that the theory is after all as old as the 
hills, and allowing its author a certain grudging credit for his 
enunciation of what oft was thought but ne'er so well or so 
honestly expressed. It may be that the academician is in the 
present instance really at fault through the apparent absence of 
all but the most vague and crude prophecy, or that such anti- 
cipations of the Freudian theory as he may be able to quote 
would serve rather to illustrate its inherent reasonableness than to 
detract from its originality. But should the work ever be under- 
taken it seems probable that some stress will be laid in it on the 
fact that the most subtle, penetrating, and independent of the early 
nineteenth century critics in England had grasped, though tentati- 
vely and without system, at several of the fundamental ideas of 
a psychology to which Freud has given a more scientific frame- 
work, and more precise and coherent formulation. 

An American author, Mr. Albert Mordell, writing on "The 
Erotic Motive in Literature'', in 1919, has already pointed out the 
striking anticipations of Freud's dream theory in Hazlitt's essay "On 
Dreams" in *The Plain Speaker" : 

"The power of prophecying or foreseemg things in our sleep, 
as from a higher and more abstracted sphere of thought need 
not be here argued upon. There is, however, a sort of profund- 
ity in sleep ; and it may usefully be consulted as an oracle in 

3y Google 

*^* OrfgfrTaffrom 



this way. It may be said, that the voluntary power is suspended, 
and things come upon us as unexpected revelations, which we 
keep out of our thoughts at other times. We may be aware of 
a danger, that yet we do not chuse, while we have the full 
command of our faculties, to acknowledge to ourselves : the im- 
pending event will then appear to us as a dream, and we shall 
most likely find it verified afterwards. Another thing of no small 
consequence is, that we may sometimes discover our tacit, and 
almost unconscious sentiments, with respect to persons or things 
in the same way. We are not hypocrites in our sleep. The curb 
is taken off from our passions, and our imagination wanders at 
wilL When awake, we check these rising thoughts, and fancy we 
have them not. In dreams, when we are off our guard, they 
return securely and unbidden. We may make this use of the 
infirmity of our sleeping metamorphosis, that we may repress 
any feelings of this sort that we disapprove in their incipient 
state, and detect, ere it be too late, an unwarrantable antipathy 
or fatal passion. Infants cannot disguise their thoughts from 
others : and in sleep we reveal the secret to ourselves." 
This recognition, however, of a buried and ^almost unconscious' 
mental life, which may be manifested more openly in dreams or 
at other times when we are 'off our guard', does not occur here 
as an isolated suggestion ; it is rather a vital element in Hazlitt's 
later outlook, one of the many proofs which his criticism affords 
of his acute faculty for introspection, his insight into the com- 
plexity of human motive (**real character^', he says, "is not one 
thing but a thousand things'') and his gift of "strength and subtlety 
of impression" which, to use his own words again, "will not suffer 
the slightest indication of thought or feeling to be lost, and gives 
warning of them, over whatever extent of surface they are diffus- 
ed, or under whatever disguises of circumstances they lurk" ("On 
Personal Character" in "The Plain Speaker"), 

Accordingly there may be found in his works a good number 
of passages in which he lays stress on the existence in the human 
mind of motives or emotions which are "hidden" in the sense that 
they are unknown to ourselves, or that we refuse to acknowledge 
their existence. Thus in "Characteristics" (No. CCXVII) he states 
that "A person who blunders upon system, has a secret motive 
for what he does, unknown to himself"; and in the essay "On the 
Knowledge of Character" in *Table Talk" he complains of the 


416 L. C MARTIN 

diflficulty in distinguishing "ostensible motives, or such as we 
acknowledge to ourselves, from tacit or secret springs of action". 
For Hazlitt, therefore, it came to be axiomatic, a thing almost 
capable of scientific proof, that small involuntary indications of 
character are more to be trusted than a person's conscious de- 
portment and external mental gesture, though in general the dis- 
guise is well maintained and "no one has ever yet seen through 
all the intricate folds and delicate involutions of our self-love, which 
is wrapped up in a set of smooth flimsy pretexts like some pre- 
cious jewel in covers of silver paper'*. ("On Depth and Superficiality'' 
in "The Plain Speaker*'). "Unconscious" feelings and interests, at 
the same time, readily betray themselves to the watchful intelli- 
gence, and in the essay "On the Knowledge of Character" Hazlitt 
gives a curious instance of the kind of phenomena which Freud 
has exemplified in his work on "The Psychopathology of Everyday 
Life'*, the frequent refusal of the mind to function normally when 
affected by some unconscious inhibition which the trained observer 
may yet detect : "So there is a story of a fellow who, as he was 
writing down his confession of a murder, stopped to ask how the 
word murder was spelt ; this, if true, was partly because his imag- 
ination was staggered by the recognition of the thing, and partly, 
because he shrunk from the verbal admission of it *Amen stuck 
in his throat !' " Hazlitt explains similarly, by a reference to "some 
sort of imperfect unconscious bias'\ the invention of slang terms 
"for different acts of profligacy committed by thieves, pickpockets, 
etc. The common names suggest associations of disgust in the minds 
of others, which those who live by them do not willingly recognise 
and which they wish to sink in a technical phraseology". 

One of the characteristics most noticeably common to the 
psychologies of Hazlitt and Freud is the stress which in both is 
laid on the fact that man is far less a rational than an emotional 
animal. Hazlitt does not show us the ultimate driving force of de- 
sire which Freud discerns behind the manifold activities of the 
human machine, but he insists that "Feeling is our guide, not 
reason", — "Reason is the interpreter and critic of nature and genius, 
not their lawgiver and judge" ("On Geniusand Common-Sense*') — and 
he illustrates the ease with which the mind will allow its beliefs to be 
swayed by unconscious sentiment : the universal faith in immortality 
is thus explained as a pretext for prolonging our own existence : 

" The present eye catches the present object' — to have and to hold 

r I . Original from 



while it may; and abhors, on any terms, to have it torn from us, and 
nothing left in its room." ("On the Fear of Death" in *Table Talk".) 

In "Characteristics" (XXXVIII) he affirms that "The wish is 
often 'father to the thought': but we are quite as apt to believe 
what we dread as what we hope"; and though it would be un- 
critical to read into Hazlitt's remark any of Freud's appreciation 
of the close relationship between fear and desire, it is yet notice- 
able that Hazlitt concurs with Freud elsewhere in showing how 
intimate a connection may exist between sentiments or qualities 
which often used to be considered radically opposite or mutually 
incompatible. "An excess of modesty is in fact an excess of pride" 
("On the Qualifications necessary to Success in Life*') : or, "There 
is always a certain degree of effeminacy mixed up with any 
approach to cruelty, since both have their source in the same 
principle, viz. an over-valuing of pain.*' (Note to "Merry England*', 
contributed to the New Monthly Magazine in December, 1825); 
or again, and here suggesting more clearly the mechanism of such 
inversions, "One must feel a strong tendency to that which one is 
always trying to avoid: whenever we pretend, on all occasions, 
a mighty contempt for anything, it is a pretty clear sign that we 
feel ourselves very nearly on a level with it" ("On Vulgarity and 
Affectation" in "Table Talk"). 

Hazlitt's delicacy and finesse of critical insight often seem to 
approach scientific precision ; and in the Essay "On personal 
Character*', which has already been quoted, he comes near to that 
attitude of rigid scientific determinism towards the development 
of individual character which is one of the firmest pillars of 
psycho-analytical science. Citing Montaigne to the effect that "Men 
palliate and conceal their original qualities, but do not extirpate 
them" he begins "No one ever changes his character from the 
time he is two years old ; nay, I might say, from the time he is 
two hours old'*, and goes on to quote "a very grave and dis- 
passionate philosopher" (clearly a Freudian born out of due time) 
who "was so impressed with the conviction of the instantaneous 
commencement and development of the character with the birth 
that he published a long and amusing article in the Monthly Ma- 
gazine, giving a detailed account of the progress, history, edu- 
cation, and tempers of two twins, up to the period of their being 
eleven days old'' This, as HazHtt says, "is perhaps considering the 
matter too curiously" but the first part of his essay, is a descant 


:)y ^t^ 

418 L. C. MARTIN 

on the theme that character does not change. "We do not change 
our features with our situations ; neither do we change the capa- 
cities or inclinations that lurk beneath them . • . In this sense 
and in Mn Wordsworth's phrase, the child's the father of the man 
surely enough. The same tendencies may not always be equally 
visible, but they are still in existence, and break out, whenever 
they dare and can, the more for being checked." 

It will be noticed that the works of Hazlitt from which the 
above quotations have been derived all belong to the second half 
of his career and all seem to have been written during or after 
the unfortunate episode of 1820 — 1822, his infatuation (in spite of 
temporary suspicion) and his ultimately complete disappointment 
with the girl Sarah Walker, for whose sake he had, in agreement 
with his first wife, contrived divorce. It was in 1820, when he was 
already living apart from his wife, that he first saw Sarah Walker ; 
the divorce was effected in Scotland in 1822 and soon after his 
return to England HazUtt to his despair discovered that the girl 
whose demure and quiet demeanour had disarmed his judgement 
and his fears no longer pretended to care for him. 

It is interesting to conjecture what effect this incident may have 
had in driving Hazlitt back upon himself, encouraging him to in- 
dulge a native faculty for introspection, to reflect on the extent 
to which men are unconsciously ruled by passion, and to suspect 
•hidden* and simulated qualities in others. Probably the effect was 
considerable, and it is in any case significant that he refers auto- 
biographically to Sarah Walker in the essay. "On the Knowledge 
of Character" in order to illustrate the gulf that may exist in these 
matters between appearance and reality. 

"The greatest hypocrite I ever knew was a little, demure, pretty, 
modest looking girl with eyes timidly cast upon the ground and 
an air soft as enchantment The only circumstance that could lead 
to a suspicion of her true character was a cold, sullen, watery, 
glazed look about the eyes, which she bent on vacancy, as if 
determined to avoid all explanation with yours, I might have spied 
in their glittering, motionless surface the rocks and quicksands 
that awaited one below.'' 

English Literature (and perhaps any other literature) would no 
doubt yield numerous quasi-Freudian utterances which could be 
forced into a treasury of minor prophecies, from the medieval 
oroverb "Kynde wil creepe where it may not go'' to the curiously 



relevant passage in Milton's **Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce"^ 
1644 (Chap. XIV), where he suggests that a psychological connection 
may exist between the abnormal manifestations of religious 
fanaticism and the extreme mortification of natural desire. 

"To these conditions this also may be added as no impro- 
bable conjecture, seeing that sort of men that follow Ana- 
baptism, Familism, Antinomianism, and other fanatic dreams 
(if we understand them not amiss), be such most commonly as 
are by nature addicted to religion, of life also not debauched, 
and that their opinions having full swing, do end in satisfaction 
of the flesh ; it may be come with reason into the thoughts of 
a wise man, whether all this proceed not partly, if not chiefly, 
from the restraint of some lawful liberty, which ought to be 
given men and is denied them? As by physic we learn in 
menstruous bodies, where nature's current hath been stopped, 
that the suffocation and upward forcing of some lower part affects 
the head and inward sense with dotage and idle fancies. 

This may be worth the study of skilful men in theology, and 
the reason of things'*. 

But a more than usually sustained habit of enquiry and gifts 
of insight and analysis much beyond the average gave to Hazlitt's 
Freudian suggestions something like the character of a consistent 
and dynamic though loosely woven theory of the unconscious. He 
does not, it is true, show with Freud's conviction and thoroughness 
the independence enjoyed by •^unconscious" mental life, rendering 
the unaided mind on its more superficial plane unable to discover 
as well as unwilling to acknowledge its buried activities: nor does 
he trace in these {he working of a few original and definable in- 
stincts which have been "repressed" and are subject to endless 
transformation. In fact these sporadic anticipations furnish a striking 
instance of the manner in which a whole new system may remain 
latent in the mind of an individual and without influence on the 
progress of human thought and society, for lack of the will or 
the opportunity to carry an original idea to its final and logical 
conclusions. Yet though Hazlitt did not attain, it is something that 
he experienced and bore witness to an unusually clear vision; and 
it would be both imcritical and anachronistic to blame him now 
for his want of the constructive intention and the scientific method 
which would have drawn these threads closely together into a 

coherent and ordered mental theory. 

r i Tfc % iii ^ OrFgrnaffnom 


by X. 

Mrs. A. and her little girl had been staying as guests in the 
house of Mr. and Mrs, S. for three weeks. Mrs. S., the hostess, 
was of a jealous, autocratic disposition, somewhat given to nagging, 
with occasional outbursts of violent temper against her husband and 
child; she was on the whole friendly, and at times excessively amiable, 
to her guest, who had managed to keep on good terms with her. 

One evening the hostess rose rather early to go to bed, saying 
she was tired and that she hoped Mrs. A, would sit up if she 
cared to, so leaving her husband and Mrs. A. together. About 
twenty minutes later Mrs. A. took her candle and went up to her 
room. At the top of the stairs Mrs. S.^s bedroom door burst open 
and she appeared, still fully dressed. 

"Oh, Mrs. A.,'* she said, "have you any of my iodine left? and I think 
your little girl has taken my nail-scissors from my dressing-table !'* 

Mrs. A. apologized for not having returned a bottle of iodine 
she had borrowed, and fetched it. Neither she nor the child, who 
was awakened and asked, had seen the scissors, or had ever been 
into the hostess's bedroom. She offered Mrs. S. her own scissors, 
but the latter said, embarrassed, "Oh no, I don't want them now; 
besides I can take W.V (the husband's). 

What is the meaning of this apparently trivial incident? It 
would hardly seem worth a seco nd thought and yet the accusation 
against the child was remarkable, and Mrs. S.'s agitated and flustered 
manner and the fact that, although tired, she had not undressed 
at all in twenty minutes, called for explanations. 

The answer lies in the content of the accusation. '*You have 
taken my bottle of potent fluid, my sharp cutting instrument!" 
These are familiar symbols enough.^ It is the jealous woman's 
castration-complex which is involved. Her attitude to her guest 
throughout the visit had been ambivalent, although the hostile 
feelings had been much hidden (and transferred on to her husband 
and her child). A hint of them was evident in the disapproval she 
almost openly expressed of her guest's dress and appearance, 

* Of semen and penis. 

r L^ 4 20 Orfginaffnonn 



which were quite feminine, and which the host made no secret of 
admiring. Mrs. S. herself showed a marked plainness and severity 
in dress, and through working hard in house and garden (she was 
a slave to duty) her face was spoilt by sunburn and freckles, and 
her hands much disfigured, to which she was ostentatiously in- 
different Her life was a martyrdom of worry about cleanliness 
and tidiness in the house (pointing to a guilt-complex) and she 
thought herself temperamentally sex-less, as she confided to Mrs, A. 
Her guest, on the contrary, wore pretty clothes, liked some powder 
and scent, and was attractive to men. 

On this night one can imagine the hostess, tired by the conflict 
of unconscious feeling, provoked by the other woman's stay in 
her house, (and further prompted by some dark motive), making 
the early move to bed herself and leaving the guest and her husband 
both reading in the drawing-room. (This reminds one of a child 
leaving its parents and going to bed alone). One can imagine the 
jealous and suspicious woman's Angst and indecision, her inability 
to undress, due to a half-conscious desire to go down again and 
satisfy herself that the pair were gaining nothing by her absence. 
One imagines her standing about wondering, and listening for 
sounds in the room below with a beating heart, and then, her 
eyes falling on the dressing-table, suddenly noticing the absence 
of her scissors. Instantly all her feeling fastens on this fact, the 
displacement is effected, doubts become certainty. Had the other 
woman designs on her husband? was the semi-conscious doubt. 
Well, she has not returned the iodine and the scissors are gone ! 
was the con.^cious certainty. The other woman can be accused of 
that! But it is easier to accuse a child of theft; a woman may 
resent it . . . Taken from her room, from her dressing-table, from 
herself by the other woman's other self, her child, her little self; 
other symbols obvious enough.^ Nothing was safe with strange 
people in the house ! Should she go down ? Anxiety and indignation 
fought in her; but she dared not. She could not face them together. 
She might surprise them, or they might defend each other, or 
worse still, they might guess why she went . • . As Mrs. A. came 
slowly up the stairs, she burst out. 

So this little incident surely expressed a rationalization of this 
woman*s unconscious jealousy and fear that Mrs. A., alone at night 
with her husband, might possess herself of him, the wife's property. 

• Of the female genitals. ^ . r , ^ 

r jv-j Ungmaf fnom 



Being offered Mrs, A/s own scissors confused hen No, it was 
not scissors that she wanted, really, nor was it anything that 
Mrs. A., the woman, could offer her. She faltered "I can take my 
husband V; still doubting, she tried to assert that her husband 
(and his property) were hers. 

Besides this, this was the only occasion during the visit on which 
Mrs. S. went first to bed — for she always liked to be present at and 
"manage" every household ceremony herself, if it was only closing 
the shutters and locking the windows — and here one sees ?i compulsion. 
What caused her to do anything so uncharacteristic, for she did 
not appear tired nor did she actually go to bed ? For some reason 
she had to create a situation in which she could feel jealous. We 
know from psycho-analysis that the compulsion to morbid jealousy 
is a symptom of repressed homosexual desires. In that household, 
Mrs. A. alone was typically feminine; Mrs. S.'s capability, severit>' 
in dress, and repudiation of everything feminine accorded well 
with an unconscious masculine ideal. Her repressed love for her 
guest — shown in her unstable friendliness, unnecessary to a stranger, 
was felt in the character of the opposite sex; she loved her as a 
man would; so she identified herself with her husband, and projected 
on to him her love of Mrs. A, But in the delusion, her husband was 
herself, he stood for her (desired but missing) male organ; therefore, 
if, or when, he and Mrs. A, should love each other, sfu was 
deprived of them both — "castrated'^ and rejected m love,^ 

The force of her accusation that "Mrs. A. had castrated her" 
comes from both sources, the homosexual and the heterosexual 
Morbidly jealous, she imputed to Mrs. A. her own unconscious 
desire for the husband, whom she consciously despised and be- 
littled, (sadistic revenge arising from envy of the penis) and im- 
puted to her husband her unconscious desire for Mrs. A., whom 
she also to some extent despised consciously, (for being too 
feminine — envy again). 

In creating the scene in which they were left together she 
fulfilled two ardent wishes of infancy which must at that time have 
caused her wakefulness, longing to overhear, and to disturb, and not 
to sleep until the envied ones were heard to come up to bed. 

So much can be learnt from an unreasonable remark. 

* Note that scissors are an instrument for ^'cutting away" and for *'3e- 
parating"; probably she herself in revenge wished to castrate her husband and 
to separate him and the woman. 

r ^ . ^.\ii> OrFgrnaffronn 




A patient related a dream in which she was reading a book 
called '*Rhotomontade". She had made a note of the dream and 
found that she had written **Rhotomondade*\ She did not know 
the word but seemed to remember that whea she was quite a 
little girl her mother had once said to her, •*Don't make such a 
rodomontade about it'\ Eventually the word resolved itself into 
**wrote to my daddy^ She had been reading a French book on 
the evening previous to the dream, hence the "mon" for ^^my**. 

The same patient had a dream in which associations led to a 
village in France called Les Andelys. This eventually resolved 
itself into "Lays on the bed" (lys = lit). 

A patient dreamed he was on a lighter and at the end of the 
lighter was a small yacht. He suddenly noticed that the yacht 
was sinking and caught hold of the rope which attached the yacht 
to the lighter, but it sank and muddy water rushed over the yacht 
and all around the lighter. Associations to lighter led to water- 
closet seat. Those to yacht led via mouse-trap, mice, dirt, and smell 
to faeces. The rope was the chain for flushing and the water 
the flushing of the pan. Although the dream worked out satis- 
factorily as regards ideas about defaecation I was not quite satis- 
fied as to why a yacht should represent faeces. However, a spon- 
taneous association, though not in direct connection with yacht, 
brought the solution. The patient mentioned that when he was a 
tiny child, about two years old, the nurse used to put him on 
the chamber and encourage him to **Do lots'* or "Do a lot". I 
said to him. If you were two years old how would you say to 
the nurse, "Fve done lots" or "IVe done a lot"? He replied, "I 
should probably say, Nurse, 1 done yot or I done a yot". Hence 
the association of yacht = yot = lot = faeces. 

C'' €^i ^ ^ 423 Orrginaf from 






1. Amauroux : '*Etats Incompatibles avec la Psa." J?€v. de PsychotMrapi€, 

1915, T. XXIX, p. 55. 

2. Baroni, Victor: "Lcs Etudes Modernes sur le Mysticismc,** 55 p. Geneve 

Imprimerie des Accacias, 1919. 

3. Baudoin : **SymboIisme de quelques rfives survenus pendant la Tbc. 

Pulm." Arc/f. de Psychol., 1916, T. XVI, p. 133—142. 

4. Ibid, : *Tsa. de quelques troubles nerveux." Ibidem^ p. 143 — 151 

5. Ibid. : **La Psa. Freudicnne. " *'L'Ecolc de Zurich/' La PcuiiU, 

26 oct. et 9 nov. 1919. 

6. Ibid. : "Suggestion et Autosuggestion." Delachaux ctNcstli, 1919, 

Neuch&tel ct Paris. 

7. Bergucr, Georges : **Revue ct Bibliogr. G^n^rales de Psychol. Religieuse.' 

ArcA. de Psychol, 1914, T. XIV. p, 1—91. 

8. Ibid. : '*Notes sur Ic Langage du Rfive." Ibidem, p. 213—215. 

9. Ibid. : **La Vie de Jisus." 1 vol. Geneve, Atar, 1919. 

10. Berillon : '*La Psa. avec ou sans Hypnose ct ses regies chez I'Enfant." 

Gazette Abdicate de Paris, 1916, p. 72. 

11. Bovet, Pierre: **LInstinct Combatif.* 1. vol. Delachaux et Nestl^. 1917. 


12. Ibid. : *'Lc Sentiment Rcligieux." Rev. de Thiol, et de Phil., 1919, 

Laus., p. 157—175. 

13. Claparlde, Edouard, Prof. : *'De la Representation des Personnes Inconnues 

ct des Lapsus linguae." Arch, de Psychol., 1914, T. XTV. 
p. 301—304. 

14. Ibid. : **Psychol. de I'Enfant et Pedagogic Expirimcntale." 1 vol. 

Geneve, Kundig, 1915. 

15. Ibid. : "Sur la Fonction du RCvc." Rev, Philos., 1916. p. 298. 

16. Ibid. : "Rfive Satisfaisant un Dcsir." Arch, de Psychol.. 1917. 

T. XVI, p. 300—302. 

17. Courbon, Paul: ""\.2. Convoitise Inccstueusc dans la Doctrine de Freud. 

LEnciphale, Avril 1914. 

18. Delage, Yves, Prof.: **Unc Psychosc Nouvclle: La Psa." Mercure de France. 

1916, p. 1. 

19. Ibid. : '^La Psa." Bull. Inst, Gin. Psychol., 1916, T. XVI, p. 73—99. 

20. Ibid. : ^ThdoricduRCvedcFreud. ' Ibidem, 1915,T.XV,p. 117—135. 



21. Ibid, . '^Constitution dcs Iddcs ct Base physique des Processus 

psychiques." Rev. Philos., 1915. T, LXXX. p. 289—313. 

22. Ibid.: "Portde Philosophique et Valeur Utilitaire du Rfivc." 

Ibidem, Paris. 1916, p. 1—23. 

23. Ibid. : **Quelques Points dc la Psychol, du Rfiveur." Bull. Inst. 

Psych.. 1919. T. XIX. p. 76—85. 

24. Ibid. : **La Conscience Psychiquc et le R6ve." Ibidem, p. 163—187. 

25. Dem6le, Victor, Dr. : "Analyse Psychiitrique des Confessions de Rousseau." 

ArcA. Suisse de Neurol, et de Psychidtrie, T. 2, p. 272—307. 

26. Devaux et Logre, Drs. : "Les Anxieux." 1 vol. 300 p. Paris, Masson, 1917. 

27. Dwelshauvers, Georges, Prof. : **L*Inconscient." 1 vol. Paris, Flammarion. 


28. Farez : **La Psa. Francaisc." Pev. de Psyckotkirapie, Paris. T. XXIX. 

p. 22. 

29. Floumoy, Tkiodore, Prof. : "Une Mystique Moderne." Documents pour la 

Psychol. Relig. Arck. de Psyckol., 1915. T. XV. p. 1—224. 

30. Ploumoy, Henri, Dr. : "Notes sur Quatre Cas d'Obsessions et Impulsions 

a d^but instantand."; Geneve, Kundig. 1917. 24 p. 

31. Ibid. : "Symbolisme en Psychopathologie." Arck. dePsyckoL, 1919. 

T. XVII, p. 187—207. 

32. Ibid. : "Quelques Remarques sur le Symbolisme dans THyst^rie." 

Ibidem, p. 208—233. 

33. Geley, Gustave, Dr. : **De I'lnconscient au Conscient." 1 vol. Paris. 

Alcan. 1919. 

34. Meckel, Dr, : **LaN6vrose d'Angoisse." 1 vol., 535 p. Paris. Masson. 1917, 

35. Hesnard, A., Dr. : **Les Theories Psychol, et Mitapsychi&triques de la 

Dim. Pric." Joum. de Psyckol. normale et Patkol. Paris, 

36. Jung, C. G., Dr. : "La Structure de I'lnconscient." Arck. de Psyckol. 

1916. T. XVI. p. 152—179 

37. /"^//an'/j.-Pn?/..- "Observations dc Psychol. Quotidicnne." Ibidem, 1914, 

T. XIV, p. 225—247. 

38. Ibid. : "Contributions k lEtude des Rfives." Ibidem, p. 248—276. 

39. Kostileff: "Le Micanisme Cir^bral dc la Pens6c." 1 vol. Paris, 

Alcan. 1914. 

40. Ibid. : "Contribution k TEtude du Sentiment Amourcux." Rev, 

Pkilosopk., Mai 1914. 

41. Ibid. : "Sur la Formation du Complcxe Erotique dans Ic Sentiment 

Amoureux. • Ibidem, T. LXXIX. 1915. p. 169. 

42. Ladame, Ckarles, Dr. : "Homosexuality Hiriditaire ct Homos. Acquise." 

Arck, d^Antkrop. Crim. et de Mid. Lig., Avril 1914, 

43. IHd, : "Guy de Maupassant." 1 brochure. 47 p. Edit, de la Rev. 

Romande. Lausanne, 1919. 

44. Lalande,Prof.:''l^ Psychologic: Ses Divers Objects et ses Mithodcs," 

Rev. Pkilos., T. LXXXII. 1919. p. 177—221. 

45. Larguier des Bancels, Prof. : "Sur Ics Origines de la Notion d'Ame ; k 

propos d'unc Interdiction de Pythagore." Arck. de Psyckol.^ 
1918, T. XVII, p. 58-66. 

ti , Orrginaffnonn 



46. LaufMnier, y., Dr. : *'Lc Pansexualisme dc Freud/* Gautte des H$fUaux 

dc Paris, 1914. 

47. Ibid, : "A propos de la Psa." Rev. dt Piyckotkir.. 1914, p. 229. 

48. Maeder, Alpkonsc, Dr. : "Essai sur Hodler.'* 1 vol. Rascher, Zurich, 1917. 

49. Hid. : "Guirison ct Evolution dans la vie de rime." 1 vol. 

fbidm, 1918. 69 p. 
60. Mcnzeratk, Paul: "Psychopath, de la vie Journalifere." Bull. d$ la Soc. 
d'Antkrof. de Bruxtlles. Mars 1914. 

51. Morel, Ferdinand, Dr. Phil. : "Essai sur llntrovcrsion Mystique." 1 vol. 

338 p. Genfeve, KQndig, 1918. 

52. Mourgue et Colin, Drs. : "Les Enseignements M^thodologiques et la 

Signification de la Psa." Annales Midico-psjchoL, 1918. 
p. 79—90. 

53. Naville, Franfois, Dr.: "Hysteric ou Pithiatisme .>" Reo. Mid. de la Suisse 

Romande, 1919, T. XXXIX, p. 13—44,^ 
64. Odier, Charles, Dr. : **A propos d'un cas dc Contracture Hy.'* Arch, de 
Psych., 1914. T. XIV. p. 158—201. 

55. Ibid. : **Etudc de Psychol, de Guerre, i propos de la Camptocormie. * 

Corresf.'Blatt f. Schweizer Arzte, 1919, No. 23. 

56. Pachantoni, Dr. : **Science Galante." Roman. 154 p. Lausanne, Spes, 1919. 

57. Perls: "Pensde Symbolique du point de vue de Tintrospection. ' 

Rev. Philos., 1916, T. LXXXI, p. 159. 

58. Piaget, Jean : "La Psa. et la P^dagogie." Bull, de la soc. Alfred Binet, 

Nos. 131 et 133. Paris, Alcan. 

59. Rigis, Dr., Prof. : "Prdcis de Psychiatric." 1 vol. 1230 p. Collection 

Testut, Paris, 6e ^d. 1914. 

60. Rigis et Hesnard: **La Psa. des N6vroses et des Psychoses.** 1 vol. 

384 p. Paris, Alcan, 1914. 

61. Ribot, Thiodule, Prof. : **Le Problimc dc la Pcns^e sans Image et sans 

Mot." Rev. Philos., T. XXXVIII. No. 8. 

62. Ibid.: *'La Logique Affective et la Psa." Ibidem, T. II de 1914, 

p. 144—161. 

63. Ibid. : **La Pens^e Symbolique." Ibidem, 1915. T. LXXIX, p. 385. 

64. Salmen : 'Tsa. et Psychoth^rap." Rev. de Psycho thirap., 1914, 

p. 243—268. 
65* Saussure, de, Raymond : **A propos d'un Disciple d*Untemahrcr." Arch, de 
Psychol., 1919, T. XVII, p. 297—308. 

66. Secretan, Andri : **Le Probltme du Salut dans la Bhagavadgita." 1 vol. 

113 p. Wyss et Duchfinc. Gen6ve, 1919. 

67. Voivenel : **Une Cristallopathie, Ji propos des pretentions p6dagogiqucs 

de la Psa." Arch. Mid. Beiges, 1918, p. 18—31. 

68. Janet, Pierre, Prof. : **Les Medications psychologiques." 3 vol. 1919. 

Paris, Alcan. 

69. Lombard, Pro/. :''¥rQnd, La Psychanalysc et la Thtorie Psychog^nitiquc 

des Ndvroscs." Rev, de Thiol, et de Philos., Lausanne, 1914. 
p. 14—47. 

C^ nonl^ OrFginaf from 



La psychanalyse s*est heurt^e, en France, k une opposition qui n'est 
que partiellemcnt comprehensible. On lui a reproch6 de g^n^raliser 
trop facilement scs theories, et, k ce propos, Tavis de Delage resume 
bien la pens^e d'un grand nombre de psychologues frangais : 

(No. 20, p. 134.) **Avec scs connaissances trfcs approfondics," dit-il i 
propos de la **Traumdeutung", **son travail, sa riche documentation ct la 
p^nc^tration de son esprit, Freud eQt fait un livre excellent s*il ne s*<5tait 
laissii entrainer par le fatal esprit de systime, a impsimer un caract^re 
universcl a une conception qui ne s'applique qu'^ des cas particuliers, ce qui 
Ta entraini k torturer les faits et les explications pour Icur fairc rendre plus 
qu'il n'dtait raisonnable.*' 

Cest surtout au sujet du r61e que Freud fait jouer a la sexuality 
que les auteurs frangais ont fait des objections. Us lui reprochent 
aussi d'avoir ^tendu le sens du mot: sexuel, a tel point que celui-ci, 
au lieu de repr^senter un concept parfaitement precis et utile a la 
science, devient un terme si general qu'il prfite toujours a confusion. 

Ces m6mes objections ont 6t6 faites par des auteurs anglais, 
mais ceux-ci, plutAt que de rejeter toutes les id^es de Freud, k 
cause des quelques points auxquels ils ne pouvaient souscrire, ont 
utilise grand nombre de ses d^couvertes. Les fran^ais n'ont pas eu 
le m6me sens pratique, et il en est bien peu qui aient cherch(^ 
k experimenter Tanalyse des r6ves et la m^thode des associations. 
Aussi ne faut-il pas s'^tonner de ce que tant de leurs critiques 
aient un caract&re si th^orique. 

Cest un fait bien significatif, que, dans toute la litt^raturc 
frangaise, il n'y ait qu'un ou deux travaux cherchant a appliquer 
la psa,, alors que tous les autres ne sont que des critiques des 
id^es de Freud. 

L'attitude de la Suisse romande a 6t6 toute autre, et les travaux 
y sont nombreux qui ont cherch6 a utiliser les m^thodcs et les 
notions de la psychanalyse. TandisquVn France, il se public 
encore des trait^s de psychiatric ou de psychologic g^n^rale qui 
ignorent, ou feignent d'ignorer les theories de Freud, la psa. a 
p^n6tr6 en Suisse romande, non seulement dans le domaine medical 
et psycbologique, mais elle tend encore a trouver des applications 
dans la pedagogic, la cure d'dme religieuse. Tart et la litt6rature. 


La France n a pas encore un traits de psychifitrie analogue k 

celui que M. Stoddard a public a Londres, et oa la psychiAtrie 

4 iTfc^liJii^ Original ti'5... 



est enti^rement consid^r^e du point de vue psychanaJytique Loin 
de la : entre les ann^es 1914 et 1919, il n'y a pas eu, en France, 
un seul travail cherchant a appliquer les donn^es de la psa. a la 
m^decine. Aussi ne puis-je rapporter ici que quelques critiques 
sommaires concernant les travaux de Freud, mais pas une seule 
contribution originale cherchant a d^velopper les id^es du psychidtre 
viennois. La guerre ne semble pas avoir d6velopp6 la science qui 
nous occupe : Ni Babinski, — dans son livre sur **L'Hyst^rie et le 
Pythiatisme" (Paris, Masson, 1917) — ; ni Leri, — dans ses 
"Commotions et Emotions de Guerre*' {Ibid. 1918) — ; ni L6pine, 
dans ses 'Troubles mentaux de Guerre*' {Ibid. 1917) — ; ni Roussy 
et Lhermite, dans leurs "Psychon^vroses de Guerre" {Ibid. 1917) — ; 
ne parlent de psa. Lorsqu'6clata la guerre, la psa. commengait 
d6ja a 6tre connue en France, gr&ce aux travaux de R^gis et 
Hesnard. SoIIier, dans sa deuxi^me Edition de "L*Hyst6rie et son 
Traitement" (Paris, Alcan, 1914), consacre quelques pages a Tex- 
position de cette m^thode. R^gis, dans sa cinquieme Edition de 
son "Precis de Psychi&trie*\ fait une breve critique des idees de 
Freud. Comme la plupart des m^decins frangais, il ne retient de 
son ceuvre, que ce qui a trait au pansexualisme, et il a vite fait 
de declarer cette th^orie excessive. II lui reconnait cependant 
quelques m^rites : *Telle qu'elle est'\ dit-il, ''et quelque soit sa 
destin^e a venir, elle nous a paru mdriter par son originality, son 
ampleur, son actuality mfime, le court expose que nous venons 
d'en faire." Dans sa derniere Edition de son *'Manuel de psychiatrie'' 
(Alcan, 1916), Rogues de Fursac fait les m6mes critiques. Tous 
ces auteurs ne connaissent malheureusement la psa. que de seconde 
main; ils la jugent en ne Tayant jamais pratiqu^e. Beaucoup de 
psychiatres frangais trouvent qu'elle n'est mcme pas digne d'etre 
mentionn^e : ainsi Laignel-Lavastine, Barb^, et Delmas, dans leur 
"Pratique psychiatrique" (Paris, Baillere, 1919), la passent entierement 
sous silence. 

Si maintenant nous quittons Jes gros trait^s, nous voyons que 
Tavis des psychidtres reste le m^me. Logre et Devaux, dans leur 
livre sur "Les Anxieux" (Paris, Masson 1917.), (itudient plus 
spe^cialement la n6vrose d'angoisse de Freud. Ils sont frapp^s, 
disent-ils, "du contraste qui existe entre Taffirmation de Tanxiett^ 
diffuse et chronique, observ^e par Tauteur avec tant de justesse 
et rhypothese d'une dtiologie occasionnelle et sp^ciale, relative h 
Texercice de la fonction sexuelle." Et plus loin; 



•'L'cxplication freudique aboutit done en fait a m^connaitre ! 'importance 
pathog^nique dc TanxiittS constitutionelle. L*anxi6t6 n'est plus ici reprisent^e 
que comme une reaction secondaire a une perturbation de la vie psycho- 
Hexuelle. L'observation clinique semble montrcr au contraire, que la disposition 
anxieuse est, le plus souvent, primitive; c'est la constitution Emotive, sen- 
sibilis^e ou non par des causes intercurrentes, qui est le facteur pathog^nique 
essentiel dc la psychon^vrose d'angiosse . . L'ir^thisme psycho-reflexe re- 
prescnte, chez ces sujets, le trouble fondamental; il est ant^rieur a T^motion 
sexuelle; il en est ind^pendant, au moins dans son existence, sinon dans 
ses variations." 

Devanx et Logre reconnaissent cependant "que les modifications 
de la tension sexuelle ont une importance majeure dans la provo- 
cation de la recrudescence ^motionelle/' 

Devaux et Logre critiquent aussi la m6thode psychanalytique; 
mais leurs remarques ne semblent pas 6tre bashes sur Texp^rience, 
et je croirais volontiers qu'il ne s'agit la que d'une appreciation 

'*S'en rapporter au n5cit des rfivcs", disent-ils, **dont I'anamnfese et le 
coramentaire sont toujours si d(^licats, si incertains et si fallacieux; interpreter 
enfin des citats d'automatisme subconscient et de distraction, n*cst-ce pas 
accumuler, comme a plaisir, toutes les causes d'infid^lit^ du tdmoignage; et 
transformer precis^raent en moyens d'investigation, les moyens d*erreur les 
plus habituels dc la recherche scicntifique." 

Apr^s avoir critique le pansexualisme freudien, nos auteurs 

**I1 n'en reste pas moins exact que les anomalies de la vie sexuelle peuvcnt 
intervenir tres frdquemmcnt, et dune manifere pridominante, mais non ex- 
clusive, dans le d^terminisme occasionnel dc I'id^e obs^dantc ... II arrive 
aussi qu'unc obsession en apparence <^trangcre a la g^nitalit^ soit cependant 
Texpression, en quclnue sortc d^guisce, de perversions sexucllcs par ailleurs 
plus ou moins latentes: Nous avons cu I'occasion d'observer, par exemple, 
que, chez quelques sujets, Tobsession homicide apparait comme une mani- 
festation larvae du sadismc, dc ra^mc que la klcptomanic peut constituer, 
<ians certains cas, une modality particulierc du f^tichismc ou du sadi-f<^tichisme'\ 

Le Dr. F. Meckel a egalement consacr^ un livre a T^tude de 
la n^vrose d'angoisse (Paris^ Masson 1917). Quoiqu'iPy fasse de 
nombreux emprunts a la psa., il traite de "pauvres (^lucubrations" 
les id^es de Freud, Apres avoir montr(^ que la psa. ne nous appor- 
tait rien de nouveau, il dc^clare que c'est une science sans fon- 
dement. Si done il est logique avec lui-meme, c'est toute la 
psychiAtrie traditionelle, sur laquelle il se base, qu'il renie par ce 

raisonnement, Dans ses diffc^rents articles sur le reve, Yves Delage 

r I . Original from 



le c^I^bre zoologiste, tient un raisonnement tout-^-fait analogue. 
On s'6tonne vraiment que des auteurs frangais aient si peu souci 
de la logique. Dide, dans son ouvrage sur "Les Emotions et la 
Guerre." (Paris, Alcan 1918), ne consacre qu'une demi-page i 
la psa. Voici ce qu'il y dit: "Je ne m'attarderai pas k discuter le 
sophisme dc Freud, qui voit dans le rfive la realisation d^guis^e 
d'un d^sir r6prim6. 

Cela ne Temp^che pas de declarer dix lignes plus bas, (p- 78*) 
que *ia trame des r^ves est faite surtout de de^sirs et de craintes 
realises ou refoul^s." 

Colin et Mourgue (voir No. 52.) sont encore deux auteurs qui 
ne connaissent Freud que de seconde main. lis reconnaissent au 
psychi&tre viennois le grand m6rite d'avoir insist^ sur la vie affec- 
tive, sur la pens6e symbol ique, sur T^tude du r^ve, et d*avoir fait 
un rapprochement int^ressant entre la pens6e des primitifs et les 
sympt6mes de beaucoup de nerveux; mais ils n'admettent pas sa 
m^thode d*interpr6tation quMls qualifient de toute subjective et uni- 
at^rale. Quant a la libido, elle leur parait une notion plus philo- 
sophique que scientifique. 

Je ne r6p6tcrai pas, k propos de ces auteurs, les critiques d^ja 
contenues dans tant d*autres ouvrages. Et je ne puis non plus 
discuter les autres articles d*auteurs fran^ais; ils m^obligeraient a 
trop de redites. 

En Suisse romande, certains m^decins ont cherchd k appliquer 
la psa., et a d^velopper les theories de Freud. 

Le Dr. Naville a relate un cas fort int^ressant, que je crois 
utile de r^sumer ci-dessous (53). 

Le Dr. N. expose le cas dVne jeune hyst^rique de 15 ans^ qui 
souffre depuis plusieurs ann6es de narcol^psies prolong^es et 
fr^quentes, de grandes crises convulsives, de chorees rythmiques 
intermittentes, de petits acc^s de mutisme, de parapl^gie fonctionelle 
et d'un cortege de troubles de moindre importance. Voici ce que 
M. N. ^crit au sujet de ce cas: 

**La cause de cet itzi itait inconnuc, ct les sympt6mes ne c^daient 
pas k la contrc-suggestion. Seule unc analyse psychique, minutieusc, avcc 
le concours cfficacc de la connaissancc des rfivcs dc la malade, pcnnit dc 
rctrouvcr le traumatisme <^niotif, datant de sept ans, qui <jtait la cause dc 
tous les sympt6mes. Aussitfit que cc traumatisme, totalement oubli^» fut 
revenu k la conscience dc la malade, les <^tats seconds, les contractures, les 
crises convulsives, la paraplegic, disparurent spontan^ment, sans aucunc 
suggestion directc, ct les autres sympt6mcs fonctionnels s*amcnd6rent pro- 

:^y<j>^ .le 

.-I I '»| 1 1 I '.1 I 1 !"-■ J I I 



grcssivcmcnt. Cctte observation est done unc demonstration presqu'ixpiri- 
mentalede lavaleur th^rapeutique de la m^thode d'analyse psychique, parti- 
culi&rement ^tudiie par Breuer et Freud." 

A ce propos le Dr. N. critique la conception hyst6ro-pithiatique 
de Babinski. II lui reproche surtout de consid6rer les m^canismes 
de suggestion comme seules causes de I'hyst^rie et de ne pas 
tenir compte de facteurs aussi essentiels que les troubles affectifs 
sous-jacents aux suggestions. II lui reproche encore de ne pas 
tenir compte des troubles 6motifs dans la psychog^n^se de Thyst^rie 

L'analyse a r6v6\6 que vers huit ans, la malade cut une Amotion violente 
parce que son petit frire, alors tgi de deux ans avait disparu dans la nuit. 
Une automobile aveuglante passa sur la route, et la fillette eut Tid^e que cette 
voiture avait du ^eraser son frfcre. Elle crut voit du sang attach^ aux roues 
et fut prise alors d'une crise nerveuse d*apparence syncopale. Deux jours 
aprfes, une servante vint lui dire que son frfere 6tait tr6s malade, (il s'agissait 
en r^aliti d'une indigestion); imm6diatement la certitude qu'jl avait 6t6 
6cras^, et la vision de Tautomobile ensanglant^e se repr^senta i son esprit 
et une nouvelle crise se d^clancha. D6s que ces Amotions r^apparurent 
dans la conscience de la malade, la parapl^gie, qui duiait depuis quatre 
semaines, c6da progressivement en trois jours, comme un ressort qui se ditend 
peu a peu. 

Lorsque cette jeune fille fut gu^rie, elle raconta scs impressions, de 
fagon fort int<5ressante. II lui semblait, disait-elle, qu'elle dcvait faire un 
effort continuel pour Eloigner d'elle une sensation de terreur qui cherchait 
k I'envahir, et dont elle ignorait la cause et le contenu. Quand on luit parlait 
soudainement, et qu'on la sortait ainsi brusquement de sa demi-rfiverie, elle 
avait une peur instinctive qu'on Tinterrogeit sur sa distraction et sur ses 
pens^es. et elle ressentait alors un serrement de gorge qui Tempfichait de 
s'exprimer librement pendant un moment. A la page 35 de cet article, on 
trouvera encore d'int^ressantes confessions sur ce sentiment qu'elle avait de 
ne pas pouvoir fixer son attention, de peur de trouver en elle des im- 
pressions d^sagrtables. 

Le Dr. N. fait remarquer que ce traumatisme infantile n'avait 
rien de sexuel, comme les circonstances et un interrogatoire attentif 
ont permis de T^tablir avec certitude. Nous voulons exprimer ici 
un regret; c'est que le Dr. N. n'ait pas pratique la psa. selon la 
m^thode classique de Freud. Avec la resistance instinctive que 
les malades mettent a se rappeler de souvenirs d^sagr^ables, on 
ne reste pas enti^rement convaincu que parce qu'un interrogatoire 
n'a pas r^v^l^ de traumatisme sexuel, il n'y en ait en r^alit^ pas 
eu. Le Dr. N. en effet, remarque que le frfere qui apparait souvent 
dans les rfives n'est pas le m^me frere que celui de Taccident 
d'automobile. 11 nous dit justement qu'il y a eu transfert, mais 



il ne cherche pas k nous expliquer les causes de ce transfert. II 
ne nous dit pas non plus, ce qui eQt ^t6 bien int^ressant, l^^gc 
du frfere qui apparait dans les r^ves, N. ne nous apprend pas m^me 
a quel ftge sa malade a 6t6 regime, dans quelle mesure elle 6tait 
orient^e sur les problemes sexuels, etc. Si nous faisons ces objections 
au Dr. N., ce n'est pas qu'a tous prix nous voulions trouver une 
6tiologie sexuelle chez sa malade, mais nous trouvons qu'il aurait 
du nous renseigner sur toutes ces questions, pour pouvoir 61iminer 
avec certitude le facteur sexuel. 

Au reste, N, convient lui-m^me que son cas est a la limite 
d*une n^vrose traumatique et d'une hysteric. Or, nous tenons h 
rappeler encore une fois que Freud n^attribue pas une origine 
sexuelle a la n6vrose traumatique. 

Dans ses articles, le Dr. H. Flournoy nous monlre une s6rie 
de symptomes et d'obsessions dont il a retrouv6 la signification 
symbolique, a Taide de la psa. II cherche a diff^rencier la notion 
de symbole en litt^rature et en psychologic. II montre que dans 
ce dernier cas la symbolisation n'est pas consciente, et que, de 
plus, le symbole n'est souvent qu^une id6e abstraite et nom un 
objet sensible. F. remarque aussi que lorsqu'on ne recherche que 
r^tiologie d'un sympt6me, on n'y trouve pas n6cessairement une 
composante sexuelle. La loi de la symbolisation, si nettement ^tablie 
par Freud, a souvent trouv6 des adversaires. F. la defend en 
montrant que le travail inconscient, consistant dans la transformation 
d'une idee en un sympt6me hyst^rique qui la symbolise, est une 
ope^ration de Tesprit relativement el^mentaire. Nous avons appris 
par les confessions de plus d'un savant que le travail inconscient 
^tait capable de r^soudre des problemes autrement ardus. 

Un joli cas de symbolisation nous est pr6sent6 par le Dr. Odier, 
dans le travail que je resume ci-dessous (54). 

Dans cct article M. O. raconte le cas dune jeune fiUe qui» en 1907 » 
a Vftge de 18 ans, se fianga avec un jeune officier, ami de son frerc, Elle 
(^tait fillc dun g<§n6ral frangais mort de maladie de coeur a I'Sge de 60 ans. 
Sa mere qui vit encore est trcs arthritique. Rien de special a signaler dans 
ses antec^dants personnels, si ce n'est une fiivre typhoidc k V&ge de 6 ans. 
A la suite de divers incidents, notemment dune tentative de s<!;duction, cite 
rompit ses fiangailles en 1909. Depuis lors, elle ne revit plus son cx-fianc<^. 
En 1911, faisant un sejour chez son frtire, ce dernier se cassa la jambe. Elle 
resta aupres de lui pour le soigner. Un jour qu'elle entra inopin^ment dans 
la chambre de son frere, elle trouva aupres de lui un visiteur qu'elle reconnut 
£tre son ex-fianc<5. Cette presence inattendue la troubla profondcSment, elle 



balbutia quelques mots, demeura interditc, et s'enfuit Durant le restc de la 
maladie dc son frfere, elle resta en bonne sant6. Puis elle fit unc depression 
qui alia en empirant, jusqu'au 14 septembre, date k laquelle son p&re fut 
emportti par une crisc d'asystolie. A ce moment elle fut dans un 6tat de 
prostration complete, j'usqu'au 23 Janvier 1913, ou s*installa chez elle un 
mutisme qui devait durer 9 mois, et faire place ensuitc a une contracture 
hystdrique de la jambe gauche. Le mutisme s'cxplique par un d6sir de fuir 
la r^alite qui lui dtait devenue trop p6nible. II lui permettait aussi de s'isoler 
dans ses rfiveries. Nous pouvons le consid^rer comme la realisation d'un 
d^sir inconscient. II est int6ressant aussi de remarquer sa durde pseudo- 
obst^tricale, dur6e si fr^quente dans les accidents hystcriques. Quant i li 
contracture elle s'explique bien par ce syllogisme inconscient qu*a t6v6\6 
Tanalyse : **Mon ancien fianc6 est revenu vers mon frere, parce qu'il s'est 
cassti la jambe. Or cctte jambe, la gauche, est dans Ic plitre, par consequent 
raide ct incapable dc se mouvoir. Si donj jc raidis et immobilise ma jambe 
gauche, mon fianc6 reviendra." 

A propos de ce cas M. O. discute les diff6rentes theories sur 
Thysterie. II remarque combien les theories de Janet, de D6jerine, 
de Babinski, avec leur point de vue purement statique, sent moins 
aptes a expliquer les ph6nomenes hystcriques, que les theories 
psycho-dynamiques de Binet, de Claparede et surtout de Freud. 
Je ne puis entrer dans les details de cette critique tres intelligente, 
mais qu'il me suffise de dire que ses pages sent parmi les 
meilleures qui aient 6t6 Ccrites en frangais sur la psa, 

II est int(}ressant de rapprocher ce cas d'une n6vralgie apparue 
aus bras droit, dans un cas rapport6 par M. Baudouin (No. 44.). 

Cctte ndvralgie s'etait manifestce chez unc personnc tr6s ncrveusc, qui 
avait unc haute ambition de culture, mais qui ^tait rctenuc dans son foyer 
par toutcs sortcs dc travaux domestiqucs. Unc dc ses amies, qui, a la suite 
d'une chute, cut unc paralysic organiquc du bras, dut gardcr le lit ct en 
profita pour beaucoup lire. On voit par quel raisonnement inconscient s'est 
installcc la ncvralgi : La maladc a pensc : Si, moi aussi, j'ai Ic bras maladc, 
je pourrai lire. Dans cc mSmc travail, B. analyse avec beaucoup dc finesse 
d'autrcs symptSmes de cettc maladc. 

Pour terminer cette revue de la psychiatric et la psa. je resume 
ici le travail du Dr. Odier sur la camptocormie. 

Le Dr. Souques a d^crit sous le nom de camptocormie une 
psycho-n6vrose^ consistant en une attitude vicieuse et permanente 
du tronc, et survenant surtout chez les soldats commotionn^s. Le 
tronc est fl6chi en avant et ne peut etre redress^, ni par des 
mouvements volontaires du malade, ni par des mouvements passifs. 
Le tronc ne peut se redresser que lorsque le soldat est plac6 en 
decubitus dorsal. M. Odier s'est attach^ a rechercher la psycho- 


g^n^se de cette affection. II se demande pourquoi cette maladie 
se trouve seulement chez les accident6s militaires et jamais chez 
les accident^s civils. 

Deux points sont a prendre en consideration : 

1. Pourquoi le malade se tient-il courb6? 

2. Pourquoi le malade ne se redresse-t-il pas? 

A la premiere question M. O. donne plusieurs r6ponses. II faut 
remarquer d'abord qu*a la ligne de feu, c'est un geste de defense 
instinctif que de se plier en avant pour offriraux projectiles une plus 
petite surface. Le combat aussi habitue le soldat k se plier : II se 
penche en avant pour charger a la bayonette, il tire souvent 
agenouill6, il marche en rampant etc. A c6te de ces raisons M. O. 
trouve encore des causes d'ordre moral, pour expliquer Tattitude 
de ces soldats. Chacun sait le r6le que joue la discipline dans 
une arm^e. Or, chez tous les peuples, I'usage nVt-il pas pr^valu 
de designer une attitude morale par une attitude physique cor res - 
pondante, laquelle est comme une r^ponse naturelle a tel 6tat de 
conscience particulier. En matifere de discipline nous parlous de 
*Vincliner" devant le chef, devant ses ordres ; "courber la t6te" ou 
**courber T^chine*', **se plier" aux ordres ; "6tre sous les ordres**, 
"sous la botte", "sous la ferule", etc. Enfin nous disons : "Etre 
subalteme'* ou "6tre Tinf^rieur de . • .'^ Or il est int^ressant de 
noter que la camptocormie, durant cette guerre, n*est jamais arrivde 
chez des officiers sup^rieurs. Reste a expliquer pourquoi, une fois 
le danger pass6, Tattitude vicieuse persiste. La douleur ^prouvde 
au premier moment par Taccident^ est de trop courte dur^e pour 
expliquer le prolongement de ce ph^nom^ne. Le camptocormique 
agit comme si les muscles pr^sidant au relevement du tronc, 
fussent s^par^s de la conscience. Le malade, en fait, ne persiste 
pas dans sa volont6, mais il la subit. II est constamment sous 
Tempire d'un danger fictif qui pour lui, reste un danger r^6\ et 
present. M^me a Tarriere, I'idde de la discipline obsMe le malade, 
et il raisonne comme suit : "La discipline qu*on m'impose est 
p6nible, je ne demande qu^a m'y soustraire. Son but est de me 
courber en deux, par consequent je ne me redresse pas.*' Cette 
adaptation fictive et inadequate s'opere chez les hyst^riques a la 
faveur de phenomenes 6motifs ; ces demiers sont choquants et, 
par la, prddisposent au refoulement, en plongeant le sujet dans 
une surte d'etat dissocie. On peut consid6rer le camptocormique 
comme un demi-fou sans id^es deiirantes, qui se contente de fixer 

3y Google 



cn un geste, une id^e v6sanique inconsciente. Cest iin ph^nom&nc 
d*autoprotcction. On congoit d^s lors que le malade, loin de 
s'^mouvoir de cette attitude anormale, lui accorde au contraire 
un grand int^rfit ; int^rfit quUl manifeste par Tabsence de tout 
effort actif de redressement, et par la resistance de tout essai 
passif de correction. M. O. termine sa description clinique par ces 
quelques lignes: (p. 23.) 

**Un dcrnicre mot s'impose puisqu'il s'agit de la psa. d'unc n^vrosc. On 
sera pcut-fitre 6tonn6, qu'cn la poursuivant je ne sois arrivi k dicouvrir ricn 
de sexuel, ni le moindre symbole <irotique ! Tel Freudien fanatique nc 
manqucrait pas de me dire : Cest que vous n'avez pas su le trouver ! Mais 
jc pretends au contraire que c'cst pr^cis^ment li, ce qui fait roriginalit6 rare 
de la camptocormic. L'hystdrie civile, jusqu'ici, ne nous avait pas habitues 
k tant de discretion. II est presqu'amer de constatcr qu'il a fallu un cataclisme 
mondial pour d^montrer que le pansexualisme ne fait pas toujours loi.'* 

Nous voulons faire remarquer ici h M. Odier, que Freud ferait 
certainement rentrer la camptocormie dans les n^vroses traumatiques, 
et non dans rhyst6rie. Pour le psychifttre viennois, la n6vrose 
traumatiques n'est pas forcement sexuelle, loin de \k. 

Au point de vue th6rapeutique, M. O. pr^conise le syst^me de 
torpillage de Vincent Ceux qui voudraient trouver de plus amples 
informations et des renseignements bibliographiques sur la campto* 
cormie, pourront lire la th^se de Mme Rosanoff-Saloff, intitulde: 
"Camptocormie**, et publi^e chez Vigot, Paris, 1917. 


II semble que les psychologues frangais aient montr^, h regard de 
la psa^ plus d*intelligence que les m^decins. Cette comprehension est 
certainement due k Tinfluence de Th. Ribot Ce n'est pas k dire 
que la pens^e de Freud ait p^ndtr^ d*une fagon g^n^rale chez 
tous les psychologues frangais. Ainsi Dugas, dans son livre sur 
•'La Mimoire et TOubli*' (Paris, Flammarion, 1917.), n'a tir6 aucun 
parti de la psa. Nous citons cet ouvrage comme nous pourrions 
en citer bien d autres. 

Psychologic generale 

Ce qui a surtout attir^ Ribot a la psa., c'est d'une part, le 

r61e que Freud fait jouer au sentiment, et d'autre part, Timportance 

qu'il attache au symbolisme. Dans son article sur la logique des 

r 1 . Original from 



sentiments, il 6tudie successivement, pt avec beaucoup de com- 
prehension, la substitution, le transfert, la condensation et Tinter- 
version des valeurs. II rend hommage a la contribution que la 
psa, a apportee a T^tude de la logique du sentiment. 

"Ce qui est profitable/* dit-il dans son article sur la pens^e symboliquc, 
**c*cst reflTort de Freud pour d^couvrir une certaine logique au fond des 
songes et des d^lires les plus extravagants, Lc point faible est son mode 
d'interprtitation qui admet tout, et flotte a Taventure . . . L'apport de Freud 
et de ses disciples k Tdtude du syrabole est grand, au risque de tombcr 
dans Texc^s contraire, ils ont elargi un sujet qu'on traite d'ordinaire parci- 
monieusement. Au lieu de se restreindre, comme Fcrrero, a la simple asso- 
ciation des id^cs, ils ont mis en relief Tactivitc^ criatrice qui est la source 
du symbole. lis ont clairement signaled une logique dont lc mccanismc n*est 
pas celui de la logique rationelle/* 

Ribot proteste contre ceux qui considferent la pens6e symbolique 
comme 6tant une activity int^rieure, due a une regression, Elle 
serait, selon lui, un processus encore persistant et ndcessaire. 

**Dans le d^vcloppement de Tesprit humain", dit-il, '1'cpanouisscment 
de la pensdc imaginative est un stade ant^rieur et inf<Srieur a celui de 
Torganisation intellectuelle; mais de m£me, dans la vie physiologique, Ics 
actions reflexes et Ics instincts, premieres manifestations de Tactivite nervcuse. 
n'ont pas disparu en suite du d^veloppement c6r^bral/* 

Dwelshauvers, ^l^ve de Ribot, et successivement professeur h 
Paris, Bruxelles et Barcelone, a rendu hommage aux dccouvertes 
de Freud, concernant la psychopathologie de la vie de tous les 
jours. (No. 27.) 

II est aussi symptomatique que Bergson, dans son ouvrage 
sur "L'Energie Spirituelle/' (Paris, Alcan, 1919), ou il a republic 
une confi^rence sur le rdve, datant de 1901, aie trouv6 n^cessaire 
d'ajouter cette note: 

*'I1 faudrait parler ici de ces tendances rt^primees auxquelles T^colc de 
Freud a consacrd* un si grand nombre d'^tudes. A Tcipoque oil fut faitc la 
prisente conf<;rencc, I'ouvrage de Freud sur les rfives avait paru, mais la 
psa. ^tait tris loin de son developpement actuel.** 

Une int^ressante contribution a T^tude de la psa. a 6t6 donnce 
par Kostyleff dans ses nombreux ouvrages. On sait qu'il cherche 
a expliquer tout le psychisme de Tindividu, par une s6rie de reflexes. 
Partant de ce point de vue, il a 6i^ int6r6ss6 par les id6es de 
Freud, qui cherche a retrouver les souvenirs caches, non seulement 
par des r^fl^xes verbo-moteurs, mais encore par des reflexes 
affectifs. II a tentd de transporter la psychologic de Freud qu'il 



appelle subjective, en psychologie dite objective. Mais il reconnait 
lui-mftme que les sentiments sonts si complexes, qu'il es souvent 
difficile de r^aliser enti^rement ce but. K. a encore insist^ sur 
TinterAt de la distinction faite par Freud entre T^rotisme et la 
sexuality ; 

'*Ccla nous permet dc distinguer nettcment ramour de rinstinct sexuel 
en le consid^rant comme unc d^charge de rimpulsion ^rotique naturellement 
associ^e avec Timpulsion sexuelle, mais ayant tout de m£me une existence 
propre ct ind^pendante dc ccUe-ci/' 

De ces quelques citations, il ne faudrait pas conclure que 
tous les psychologues sont sympathiques k la psa« Lalande, par 
exemple, (No. 44.) s*exprime ainsi; 

"Avec la prodigieuse liberty d*interpr6tation ct d'dxdgfesc psychologique 
que 8C tODt accords les psychanalystes, n*importe quoi pcut signiiicr n'importe 
quoi; la chalne des associations est toujours possible k imaginer. Sansdoute 
il est bien vrai que les tendances sexuelles proprement dites, et les tendances 
sentimcntales qui s'y rattachent, souvent mal satisfaites ou contrccarr^cs par 
r^tat de notre civilisation et par nos mocurs, occupent une grande place 
dans les preoccupations s^cr^tes ou les malaises de beaucoup de sujets. 
Mais, de \k k Icur omnipresence, il y a un (cart que la psa. ndglige trop 

Psychologie de Venfant 

M. le prof. Ed. Claparfede, de Genfeve, itudie, dans son beau 
livre sur la psychologie de Tenfant, la signification des premiers 
souvenirs, et il rend hommage, k ce propos, i la psa. 

**Appliqu6e k T^tude de renfant", dit-il, **sous le nom de p^danalysc, 
cettem6thode a soulcv^, k cause de ses allusions au domaine de la sexuality, 
de violentes protestations que je ne crois pas justifiees. Sans doute, il 
convient ici, plus que jamais, de proc^der avcc doigt^, mais la m<^thode s'est 
montree suffisamment ficonde pour qu'elle ne soit pas condamn^e pour cettc 
seule raison qu'elle est ddicate k manier, et que tel ou tel op^rateur a pu 
faillir k sa tAche.*' 

Dans son livre, Clapar^de fait encore de nombreuses allusions 
aux oeuvres de Freud, II insiste notamment sur la responsabilit6 
des parents dans le domaine de Tautorit^ patemelle ou de Tamour 
matcmel. II montre aussi quel parti Ton peut tirer de la sublimation 
de certaines tendances pour T^ducation des enfants. Avec Freud, 
il consid^re que certaines maladies mentales ne sont que des 
reactions de defense. 

"Ccst le grand m^rite du psychiitre Viennois ct dc son icolc", dit-il 
"que d*avoir cnvisagci les symptdmcs des maladies mentales, comme des 

r I . Original from 



ph^Domines ayant un sens, et rempIissantunvAie positif danala vie psychiquc 
du malade. Le but des ddviations mentales, ou tout au moins de leurs mani- 
festations, ce serait, pour cclui qui en est aff6ct6, d'^chapper a la rialiti, 
lorsque ccllc-ci lui est trop p^nible." 

Claparfede n admet cependant pas les theories de Freud sur 
la sexuality de la premifere enfance. Void ce qu*il en dit: (p. 547.) 

'*Sans entrer ici dans le fond du d^bat, notons que rien n*autorise k 
consid6rer comme sexuels des processus ne participant aucunement k la 
fonction sexuelle. Dire que le plaisir de t^ter est un plaisir sexuel n*a i^mon 
avis aucun sens, sans compter que cctte hypothise est en contradictioa 
formelle avec la phylog^nfese. (rinstinct sexuel est apparu bien plus tard que 
I'instinct de nutrition.) Ce qui est plus vraisemble, c'est que I'enfant, justcment 
parcequ*il ne possfede pas encore de tendances sexuelles, concentre sur son 
instinct de nutrition, toutes les ardeurs dont il est capable . . . D'ailleurs 
la veritable pens^e de Freud n'a-t-elle pas 6t6 trahie par son langage ? II 
donne la plQpart du temps une Extension si grande au mot libido, qu'il en 
fait exactement I'^quivalent de ce que j'ai appeli I'intcrftt : un instinct ou 
un besoin qui tend k se satisfaire. L'^volution de la libido se ramfene ainsi 
k lV,volution de rinter£t, dont I'objet change au fur etimesuredes n^cessitcs 
du moment et des besoins de I'organisme." 

On trouve une critique analogue, de la sexuality de Tenfant, 
dans Tarticle du Dr. Courbon (voir No. 17.), 

**Donner k tons les actes du nourisson une fin ^rotique, c'est non- 
seulcment admettre Texistence de I'instinct sexuel, d6s la naissance, mais 
encore, faire de cet instinct I'unique source de jouissance. Et si la psa. des 
n^vropathes plus ou moins suggestibles permet cette affirmation, Tobser- 
vation impartiale des fitres normaux ne semble pas la confirmer ... La 
bisexualit6 auto-irotique que Freud attribue aux enfants n^cst-elle pas au 
fond que dc la neutrality sexuelle ? Cette an^sth^sie sexuelle semble toutc 
naturelle chez un 4tre qui ne posstde qu'i un degr^ infime les attributs 
dc la sexuality," 

Dans un livre int^ressant, le Prof. Bovet (voir No. 11) 6tudie 
rinstinct combattif. II a observe cet instinct avec beaucoup de 
finesse dans les disputes et les jeux des enfants. II en est arrive 
ii cette conclusion que Tinstinct combattif, au m6me titre que 
rinstinct de conservation, de nutrition, ou que Tinstinct sexuel, est 
un des instincts fondamentaux. De m^me que Freud a montr^ 
quMl pouvait y avoir objectivation, derivation ou sublimation dans 
rinstinct sexuel, Bovet montre pue ces m^mes processus se re- 
trouvent dans Tinstinct combattif. II voit notamment dans rorgani- 
sation de Tarm^e du salut, ou dans le langage combattif de certains 
chants religieux une sublimation manqu6c. 



Psychologie du rive. 

Je ne m*attarderai pas a parlcr ici dcs nombreux articles d'Yves 
Delage sur le reve. Tout en empnintant une s6rie d'id^es ^ Freud, 
cet auteur d6crie la psa. avec une mauvaise foi ^vidente. 

M. Baudouin (voir No. 3.) analyse huit r^ves qui se rapportent 
a son d6sir de gu6rir d'une tuberculose pulmonnaire, contract^e 
a Tarm^e. II remarque que ces r^ves ne lui sont pas venus par 
une influence physiologique, mais bien par une influence psycho- 
logique. Preuve en soit que le jour oil Tanalyse bact^riologique 
a r6v6I6 qu'il n*y avait plus de bacilles de Koch dans ses crachats, 
il n'a plus eu de rfives de ce genre. Or la gu6rison de sa tuber- 
culose fut lente et progressive, tandisque la disparition de ces 
rfeves fut subite. B. fait encore quelques remarques int6ressantes 
sur Tauto-psa. 

**A priori", dit-il, **on pourrait nier refficacit^ de cette investigation do 
soi par soi, prdcis^ment a cause dc notre propre censure. Mais d*autre part 
si la censure est souvent d'ordre social, il semble qu'elle doive agir avec 
plus d'autorit6, lorsque Ic sujet et en presence d'un me^decin ou d'un psy- 
chologue,que s'il n'^tait en presence que de lui-m6me. Du reste,rexp6rienGe 
seule peut faire la lumiire sur ce point, et aucun argument a-priori n'est 
vulable contrc Tauto-psa., qui m'a donn^ personellement dans divers domaines 
dcs r^sultats precis ct bienfaisants." 

M. Claparede (noir Nr. 15) nous rapporte un "reve decomm odit6" 
qu'il a fait envoyageant en France, dans un compartiment bond6 et 
manquant d'air. II rfeve qu^il se trouve en chemin de fer, accoud^ 
a la portifere ouverte et humant un air frais et pur.'Ce r6ve lui 
suggere quelques remarques theoriques. Tout d'abord il insiste sur 
la n^cessit^ du principe d'6conomie qui consiste a choisir entre 
plusieurs Thypothfeses la plus simple. Pour expliquer son r^ve, il 
ne voit done pas la n6cessit6 de chercher des causes plus loin- 
taines que celles du d^sir qu'il dprouvait de respirer un air frais. 
II note encore que ce rfeve corfirme Topinion de Freud que le 
rfive est le gardien du sommeil. 

**Ricn'', dit-il, **ne pouvait m'engager davantage ii persister dans mon 
sommeil, qu'un rfivc qui m'offrait pr^cisiment ce que la rialit^ me refusait: 
Une fenfitre ouvcrtc ct dc Tair pur." 

M. Berguer (No. 8.) nous apporte une int^ressante contribution 
a r^tude du langage dans le r6ve. Un matin quM! se trouvait dans 
un ^tat cr^pusculaire, a moiti6 r^veill6, il cherchait i mettre en 
vers Tid^c que quelque chose d'extrdmemcnt tinu se dissipe im- 



m^diatement Uimage suivante se pr^sente h lui: Une toute petite 
goutte d'eau qui s^^vapore au contact d'une surface tr^s chaude. 
En m6me temps lui viennent a Tesprit ces mots: "Un feu toit de 
petites claires*' que, dans son 6tat cr^pusculaire, il prend pour un 
bon vers. A son r^veil, il s'apergoit que ces mots sont incoh^rents 
mais que chacun d'eux exprime une id6e de la vision qu'Il avait 
eue pr6ced6mment; seulement ces mots sont arranges sans aucune 
preoccupation du sens. B. se demande si nous n avons pas affaire 
a un processus analogue dans bien des cas de glossolalie. II en 
d6duit "que souvent le d^guisement de la pensde inspiratrice du 
r^ve ne serait pas dd a une supercherie de Tinconscient, comme 
le veut Freud, mais k un processus plus verbal que conceptue!/' 
M, KoUarits (voir No. 38), dans un int^ressant article, defend 
cette id6e que nos r^ves n'expriment pas des d^sirs seulement, 
mais aussi des craintes. II trouve trop subtile la distinction que 
Freud a faite entre les phobies et les craintes. Pour lui, d^sirs, 
craintes et phobies sont g6n^alement si ^troitement li^s qu'il ne 
congoit pas comment Tactivit^ onirique les pourrait distinguer. 
K. critique aussi Tinterpr^tation sexuelle des r^ves, II ne nie pas 
que beaucoup d'associations sont dues au d^sir sexuel, mais, dit-il: 

**de \k k prendre chaque corridor, couloir, boite, armoire etc. dans un 
sens genital, il y a un pas que je ne puis franchir. En effet, j'ouvre et jc 
forme une vingtaine de fois par jour mon bureau, et presqu*aussi souvent 
mes armoires. M^decins, avocats, hommes et femmes du monde qui font des 
visites, passent de nombreux corridors, montent dieu salt combien d*escaliers 
par jour. II serait bien etrange qu'une chose que Ton r6p6te si souvent ne 
puisse entrer dans les rfives, qu'i I'aide des asociations gcinitales. L*6cole de 
Freud a commis ici une generalisation excessive." 

K. donne encore quelques exemples int^ressants de rfives que 
lui ont 6td sugg^r^s par des lectures de la veille. 

Psychopathologie de la vie de tons les jours 

Kollarits (voir No. 37.) etudie la representation que nous nous 
faisons imaginairement des personnes inconnues. Lorsque nous 
lisons les ouvrages d'un auteur que nos n'avons jamais vu^ son 
style, ses opinions, sa nationality, Tanalogie de son nom avec celui 
de personnes connues, nous aident a determiner les traits de son 
visage. Claparfede (voir No. 13.) montre que cette representation est 
encore determinee par notre audition coloree. Les romanciers savent 
que certains noms agissent comme des onomatopees, Ainsi, on ne 



se repr^sentera ni la ni^me physionomie ni le m^me caract^re sous 
les noms de Patouflard ou de Flick. 

Psychologie religimse 

L'accucil favorable que la psa. a regu en Suisse romande, est 
do, en grande partie au prof Tb. Floumoy. Cest surtout dans 
ses cours qu'il a vulgaris^ les id^es de Freud. Tout en faisan, 
certaines restrictions, il a toujours expose la nouvelle psychologie 
viennoise avec beaucoup de sympathie, A part quelques comptes- 
rendus qu'il a fait sur certains ouvrages, la mystique modeme est 
le seul ^crit dans lequel il nous aie laiss^ ses id^es sur Freud, 
Jung, Silberer et Adler. II a toujours profess^ un grand ^clectisme 
prenant ce qu'il y a de bon dans chaque dcole. 

La "Mystique Modeme" (19) est la biographie rcligieuse de Mile V6. 
Nous la r^sumons bri^vement : Dans son adolescence, elle fut victime d'un 
attentat sexuel qui dans la suite devait d^velopper chez elle une sous- 
personnalit^ 6rotiquc. Mile Vi ne s'est jamais marine, mais cependant elle 
a eu des sentiments trcs vifs k regard de M. Y., qui, lui, ^tait mari^. Sa 
personnalit(i morale lui interdisait de se laisser aller k ses sentiments, aussi 
se d^cida-t-elle k venir consultcr le prof Floumoy pour le prier de lui aider 
k rompre d^finitivcment avec M. Y. Cette mpture pOt s*6ffectuer grice i 
quelques stances d*hypnotisme, mais elle ne se fit pas sans un transfert 
affectif sur Floumoy (premier acte de sublimation). C^cile se rendit compte 
clle-m*mc de ce transfert et s'en d^barassa rapidement. Mais, peu de temps 
apres, elle eOt parfois la sensation d'une presence myst^rieuse, qu'elle appelait 
son ami spirituel. Cet ami lui rappelait surtout son p^re, mais il avait aussi 
certains traits de Flournoy et d'autres philosophes qui lui ^taient chers, 
(Son pire ^tait lui-mfime philosophc.) Cette presence qui amenait chez elle 
une certaine euphoric, disparaissait compl<^tement dans les pc^riodes ou C6cile 
*tait sous la domination de sa personnalit6 ^rotique. Ce fut la sccondc phase 
(je sa sublimation ; elle dura environ une ann^c. Brusquement Tami spirituel 
fut remplac6 par une presence beaucoup plus profonde, qui cl-tait aux yeux 
de C^cile, la presence divine. Voici comment elle d^rit cette <5xp^ricnce : 

**D*un c6t(i j'avais le sentiment de ne plus Ctre, de I'autre je sais- 
sissais I'invisiblc, la r^aliti: esscntielle de la presence, j'allais dire : de la vie 
dcDieu. Je suis parfaitcment sOre dc n'avoir rien vu, rien senti, rien entendu; 
pourtant quclqu'un ctait autour de moi, et en moi, en ce sens que je scntais 
sa r^alit<5 comme une r(:alitc intcrieure plus qu'tixtdricure. C'^tait k la fois, 
une immensitc et une intimitis." 

Comme on le voit, il ne s'agit plus ici d'un dddoublement, 
mais bien d'une alteration de conscience. C^cile eut trente et une 
extases de ce genre. Elle les d^crit avec beaucoup de finesse, et 
Flournoy a reproduit cette auto-observation. II est int^ressant 
d'insister sur quelques caracteres de ce mysticisme : D'abord, sur 

:3yt.:-^ Jk: university of MICHIGAN 


Tabsence des ph^nom^nes pathologiques, puis sur TabseDce de 
r^vdation8 sumaturelles, et enfin sur Tabsence de pratiques 
asc^tiques. Le traumatisma sexuel de son adolescence et le complexe 
d'G£dipe sont certainement les deux causes les plus d^terminantes 
du mysticisme de Mile V6. 

Dans cett article, Flouraoy explique au public frangais les 
termes de libido, complexes, refoulement, sublimation, introversion, 
extraversion, etc,, et il est important de noter que c*est un des 
seuls textes fran^ais, dans lesquels ces notions sont expos^es avec 

Dans sa courte brochure, le pasteur Baroni (voir No, 2.) 6tudie 
les theories modemes sur le mysticisme, et k ce propos, discute 
les id6es de Freud, Jung, Morel, Pfister et Floumoy. 

M. Morel (voir No. 51.) dtudie avec details la psychologie du 
pseudo Denis TA^ropagiste, et a ce propos, determine un nouveau 
type de mysticisme, qu'il appelle Tin tro version Tranche. Puis, il 
montre comment cette introversion Tranche s'est epanouie, d'abord 
en orient, puis chez les mystiques sp6culatifs, II en trouve encore 
des traces chez les mystiques dits orthodoxes, comme Bernard de 
Clairvaux, Henri Suzo, et Francois de Sales. Cette introversion 
Tranche, Morel la d^finit ainsi : (voir p. 318 et 319.) 

J*C*est rintrovcrsion pour rintroversion, affranchie ct d^pouillee de toutc 
preoccupation secondaire, tant religieuse que morale : affranchie des symboles 
ct des representations traditionnels d'une part, du souci de la portie morale 
dventuellc de I'intro version d'autre part ... La tendance ct franchemcnt 
centripfetc, c'est-i-dire que Tint^rfit se retire a la fois de tout rapport sensible 
avec Texterieur, dont il ne subsiste, par moment, plus aucune image, ni 
visuelle, ni auditive, ni de quelqu'autre nature. Du mfime coup disparait de 
Tcxprcssion symbolique tout ce qui appartient i la categoric matericllc." 

Cette tendance a Tintroversion Tranche se trouve surtout chez 
les mystiques hommes, tandisque chez les femmes le mysticisme 
est beaucoup plus teintd de sexuality. Les classifications que Ton 
donne g6n^ralement des mystiques sont arbitraires. Le sexe parait 
bien etre Moment qui joue le plus grand r61e dans la diversit<^ 
des mysticismes. 

**L*fttre autirotique des femmes", icrit Morel, "diffferc autant de celui 
des hommes que leur sexuality et leurs habitudes sexuelles respectives. On 
verra plus loin, par exemple, que Ic p61e autirotique des hommes est rela- 
tivement passif, tandisque le sujet lui-mfime est actif. Chez les femmes 
ce rapport est reavers*. C'cst le p61e autcrotiquc, qui, en g^n^ral, possMe 
Tinitiative des operations.** 

r Iv-j Orrgmaffnonn 



Or» rautdrotisme semble engendrer de fagon assez directe le 

Dans ses conclusions, Morel d^veloppe encore d^int^ressantes 
considerations sur la difference des tendances d'introversion et 

Dans son ouvrage, S^cr^tan (voir No. 66.) etudie le problfcme 
du salut, avant tout au point de vue th^ologique, mais il Tetudie 
aussi au point de vue de la classification des caractferes. II demande 
^ ce propos que Ton substitue aux termes d*introvertis ct d^extra- 
vertis, les termes d*affectifs et de r6flectifs. Puis, comme Hoeffding, 
il ajoute un type interm6diaire. Pour dviter toutes les confusions 
amen^es par le mot de libido (Jung), il propose de le changer 
contre celui de psychdntrgie, qui a Tavantage de ne pas donner 
de priority phylog6netique a la sexuality. 


La France a trouvd en la personne du romancier Paul Bourget 
un admirateur de la psa. Celui-ci s'est scrvi de la psychologic 
Freudienne pour la construction de ses derniers remans, et tout 
particuliferement pour "N6m6sis". 

Le Dr. Demole (voir No. 25.) 6tudie la pathologic de Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau qu'il considfcre comme schyzophrene. Nous ne voulons 
pas entrer dans la discussion de son diagnostic, nous voudrions 
seulement signaler qu'a ce propos D. fait une ttude approfondie, 
des perversit^s sexuelles de I'auteur des "Confessions". 

Le Dr. Ch. Ladame (voir No. 43.) soutient que c*est a tort 
qu'on a accused Guy de Maupassant d'avoir 6crit ses dernieres 
oeuvres sous Tempire d'une syphilis c^r^brale. Ses ocuvres, selon 
Ladame, s'expliquent par son caractere. Maupassant a toujours cu 
un sentiment d'inf^rioritd contre lequel il s'est d^fendu. La moquerie 
la caricature, ses contes, sont autant de redactions de defense contre 
ce deficit psychique. Pour faire la psychologic de Maupassant, L. 
a aussi recours a la psa. 

"La m^thode psa., plus ct mieux que toute autre, dans ses formes 
simples ct naturelles peut k juste titre prdtendre atteindre ce but. Cettc 
mithode est en quclquc sorte un chifire. Encore n'est-ce pas tout que de 
le possdder, il faut savoir I'appliquer." 

Mais nous doutons que Ic Dr. L. ait vraiment su Tappliquer. 

Partant de T^tude de Lucy Dooley, sur le g6nie, P6r6z 

(voir No. 57.) cherche k faire un rapprochement entre les id6es du 

r I . Original from 



sociologue ^volutioniste Winiarski et les id6es des pathologistes. 
La psa. 2L son avis peut servir de trait d'union entre ces deux 
conceptions du g6nie artistique. On sait en effet^ que pour W. Tan 
et la po^sie ne seraient qu*un produit difftrenci^ des artifices de 
seduction qui font partie du r61e actif du m&le dans la s6l6ction 
sexuelle. P6r6z conclut son article ainsi : 

•*Le r61e de la th^orie des complexes comme hypoth^e de travail est 
oin d*fitre n^gligeable et inaugure un nouvcau mode de critique artistique." 

Nous signalons' encore le roman du Dr. Pachantoni (voir 
No. 56.) qui montre de fa^on spirituelle k quelles 6xag^rations peut 
mener la psa. 


Jusqu'a la fin de 1919, il n'a paru aucune traduction fran^aise 
des ouvrages de P>eud. On trouvera dans Tindex bibliographique 
de cet article, les deux traductions de brochures des Maeder, et 
Tarticle frangais dans lequel lung a rdsum^ son livre sur la 
structure de Tinconscient 

C^ nonl^ Orrgmaf from 




A. STARCKE, Den Bolder, Holland.* 


1 . Prof. 7. J. dt Boer: Psychoanalyse I en II. '*Dc Bcweging", Mai en October 


2. JuL de Boer: Bijdrage tot de Psychologic en Psychopathologie van het 

Onbcwuste. Psyckiatr. en Neurolog. Bladen 1918. 

3. L. Bouman: De beteekenis van de meuwere Psychologic voor de 

Psychopathologie. Psychiatr, en Neurolog. Bladen 1915. 

4. A. van der Chys: Inleiding tot de grundbegrippen en techniek der psycho- 

analyse. Uit zenuw — en zieleleven. Hollandia-Drukkery. 
Baarn, 1914. 

5. Ibid.: lets over hallucinaties en psycho-analyse. N. Ver. psa. 

Sitzber. Ned. Tydsckr. r. Geneesk. 1919. I. 23. 

6. J. van Emden: N. Ver. v. psa. Sitzber. Ned. Tydsckr. v. Geneesk. 1918 

II. 26. 

7. B. J. de Haan: Teruggrypende verdringing van bewustzyns-inhoudcn. 

Doktordiss. Groningen. H. N. Werkman. 1918. 

8. Prof. G. J. Heering: Om de menschelyke ziel. De psychanalyse en het 

geestesleven. Onze Eeuw. 15. Jahrg., 1 dl, 1917, p. 42—77 
u. 249—284, 

9. J. van der Hoop: De psycho-analytische Methode. Ned. Tydsckr. r. 

Geneeskunde, 1917, II, No. 6. Discussion on this paper in 
1918, II, No. 2, 6. 

10. IHd: De Beteekenis van **den Golem". De Nieuwc Gids, July 1918 

11. Prof. G. Jclgersma: Ongeweten geestesleven. Leiden. V. Doesburgh, 1914. 

(German translation I. Beiheft der Int. Z. f Psa.) 

12. Ibid.: Een geval van hysteric psycho-analytisch behandeld. Leiden. 

Van Doesburgh, 1915. 

13. Ibid.: Psychoanalyse. Lecture in Utrecht Medical Society, 

Dec. 1916. 

14. Ibid.: Psychoanalytische bydrage tot de theorie over het ge- 

voelsleven. Psyckiatr. en Neurolog. Bladen \^\t. No. 5u. 6. 
R 453—466. 

» Translated by J. C. FlQgel. 

r ' OrFginaffnom 



15. A. 7. Kicwiet dc Jonge: Naar aanleiding van Freud's droomverklariDg. 

Doktordiss. Groningcn, M. de Waal, 1918. 

16. W. B. Kristcnsen: **Diepte-psychologie ?*' De Gids. 1918. No. 6. 

17. Ad. F. Meyer: Dc behandeling van zenuwzieken door psychoanalyse. 

Ecn overzicht van Frcuds Theoric en Therapic voor arisen 
en studenten. Amsterdam. Scheltema en Holkema, 1915. 

18. Ibid. De droom. Holl, Dnikkery, Baarn, 1916. 

19. Ibid.: Over homosexualitcit. 4. Nov. 1917. Nedcrl. Ver. voor psa, 

Sitzungsbcricht. Ned. Tydsckr. v. Geneesi. 1918, II, No. 26. 

20. Ibid.: Jiing's laatste boek: **Die Psychologic der unbewufiten 

Prozesse." Lecture Nederl. Ver, v. psa. 16. Dec. 1917, 
Sitzungsbericht Ned. Tydsckr. v. Geneesi. 1919, I, No. 10. 
(German translation in Inf. Z. f. Psa.) 

21. Ibid.: Winkler contra Freud. Medisch. Weekbl. XXII, No. 17. 

22. Lod. van Mierop: Boekbespreking, Levenskrackt, 8. Jahrg., No. 5, 1914. 

23. J. H. W. pan Ophuijsen: Casuistische bydrage tot de kennis van hct 

mannelykhcids-coraplex by dc vrouw. Nederl. ver. v. psa. 
Sitzungsbericht 23. Juni 1917. Ned. lydschr. v. Geneesk. 

1918, I, No. 20. (German translation in Int. Z. f. Psa.^ 

24. Ibid.: Over wenschvcrvulling. Lecture 4. Nov. 1917. Sitzungs- 

bericht. Ned. Tydsckr. v. Geneesk. 1918, II, No, 26. 

25. Ibid.: Casuistische medcdeeling. Lecture Nederl. V. v. psa. 

17, Februarl918. Sitzungsbericht Ned. Tydsckr. v. Geneesk. 

1919, I, No. 23. 

26. Ibid.: Prof. Winkler en de Psychoanalyse. Ned, Tydsckr. v. Geneesk, 

1912, Heft 6. 

27. van Rentergkem: Freud en zijn school. Baarn 1913. 

28. W. H. R. Rivers (London): Psychiatric en Neurologic. Psyckiatr. en 

Neurol Bladen, 1918, No. 6. 

29. F. Reels: De psycho-analytischc Mcthodc. **De Beiaard*\ Jan, en 

Fcbr. 1918. 

30. Ibid.: Algemccn overzicht, der psychoanalyse inNederland. 191S. 

31. J, A. Sckroeder: Hct sprookje van Amor en Psyche in hct licht der 

psycho-analyse. Baarn, Hollandia-Drukkery, 1917. 

32. A. Stdrcke: Inleiding by de vcrtaHng v. S. Freud. De sexucele bcscha- 

vings-moraal als orzaak der modemc zenuwzwatke. 1914. 

33. Ibid,: Psycho- Analyse vom theoretisch. Standpunkt, Psyckiatr. en 

Neurol Bladen 1912, Nr. 3. 

34. 7. Stdrcke: Psychanalyse. **De Beweging", 1914. 

35. Ibid.: BcwuBte und unbewufite sexuelle Symbolik in der Bild- 

kunst. Projektionsvortrag ira Amsterdamer Arztevercin, 
26. September 1916. Sitzungsbericht 

36. Ibid.: De invloed van ons onbev^niste in ons dagelyksch Icvcn. 

Maatschappy voor gocde en goedkoopc lectuur. Amster- 
dam, 1916. 

37. A. Stdrcke, van der Hoof, van Emden, van Rentergkem, van Opkuijsen: 

Diskussion zu obigem Vortrag (19) (1918). 

.....ginal from 




38. iV, van SuckteUn: Uit de diepten der ziel. Samcnspraken over droom en 

geweten. Amsterdam, M. voor Goede en Goedkoopc, 
Icctuur. 1917. 

39. C. T. van Valkcnburg: Freudisme voor iedereen. De Gidj, 1918, No. 6. 

40. Pre/. C. IVinkler: Het stelsel van Prof. Sigmund Freud. Haarlem. Erven 

Bohn. 1917. {Gcncesk. Blad$n. 19. Reihe, No. 8.) 

The works of Van der Chys (4, 1914), Ad. F. Meyer (18, 1916), 
Van de Hoop (9, 1917) are more or less popular summaries ot 
psycho-analytic doctrines, without however rejecting Jung. 

Criticisms, without any new arguments, are furnished by L. v. 
Mierop (22, 1914), Prof de Boer (1, 1914), Prof. Winkler (40, 
1917), Prof. Heering (8, 1917). F. Roels (29, 1918; 30, 1918), van 
Valkenburg (39, 1918), Prof Kristensen (16, 1918), and Kiewiet 
de Jonge (15, 1918). A reply to de Boer's criticisms was made 
by J. Starcke (34, 1914). 

Ad. F. Meyer (17, 1915) has written a Dutch handbook of 
Psycho-Analysis. The reviewer knows of no other author who has 
condensed the material so successfully and so clearly for the public. 
He devotes part of his second chapter to the differences between 
Freud and Jung and in this work is still of the opinion that there 
is no essential difference between them. The only point in which 
this lies, according to the author, is the question whether at the 
outbreak of a manifest neurosis the libido is already fixated on 
unconscious thoughts or becomes unconscious at that moment. 
(Later this author adopted the Freudian view [20, 1917]). 

A, Starcke (32, 1914) tries to identify the Freudian libido con- 
cept with the theoretical biological concept of an impulse to 
death. In contrast with this stands the ego-impulse as the principle 
striving after individual life. The ego-impulse is regarded as being 
innate, but the libido as being fostered by the deferred effects of 
stimuli or perhaps entirely composed of them. 

The ego-impulse seeks to accumulate energy from the cosmos 
into the individual, strives for centralization, magnification of the 
individual and prolongation of individual life. The libido on the 
other hand strives to give up energy and to abolish individuality. 
The originally preponderating ego-impulse is the theoretical ex- 
pression of the very great initial rapidity of growth, which becomes 
steadied by the increasing libido. Finally comes a state of relative 

VOL 1-15* ■^y^^^**-^^*^^ UNIVERSITYOF MICHIGAN 


equipoise; at the age of puberty growth stops and the function 
of reproduction begins, which — biologically as well as psychologically 
— shows a certain relationship with dying. Love is preparation for 

Although mating and death are separate in the higher forms 
of animal life, regression of the whole psychical life is bound up 
with every mating, which leads the individual for a short time 
back into the primitive life of pleasure. Indeed the deeper the 
regression, the more it resembles death- Each regression reduces 
the effort to preserve the psyche at its height, whereby the psychical 
processes bound up with mating are of value for the development 
and maintenance of mental health, the extent of which we do not 
yet know, but which is doubtless very great Civilization endeavours 
to limit, not the number of permitted regressions, but their depth, 
and is thus injurious to health. 

A. Starcke (37, 1917) ascribes the aim of psychosexuality to 
different factors: — 1. To the organic factor of the puberty glands. 
We must differentiate between ordinary somatic death and sexual 
death of the germ-plasm. Puberty is the first part of sexual death, 
death of the heterosexual part. The sexually differentiated animal 
remains. 2. To the factor of outer form belonging to stereotropism 
which Federn places in the foreground. 3. To later memory bonds. 
He asks whether there are not other cases of homosexuality be- 
sides neurotic ones, cases which belong to simple infantilism. 

Prof Jelgersma (12, 1915, pages 147 and X) gives a detailed 
history of a case of hysterical asynergia of the right arm with 
abnormal sensations in the left half of the body and depression. A 
full analysis of seven dreams led to complete recovery. The analysis 
was concerned especially with the symbolism of choice of object^ 
sado-masochism and genital sexuality. The auto-erotic sphere was 
not much explored because recovery ensued without this. The 
author comes to the following view of the case. In her youth the 
patient passed through some periods of mental depression. Up to 
her early youth a sado-masochistic trend could be detected, which 
is not morbid in itself but may become the basis of illness through 
external causes. During her engagment she came to recognize 
that she possessed strong sexual feelings, and after it was broken off 
she continued her thwarted sexual excitement in phantasies and 
found new ones in addition. In these circumstances (breaking of her 
engagement and strong sexuality), a morbid fear of the masochistic 



tendencies existing from early youth manifested itself, expecially 
in self pimishment of the guilty part of the body. It was a kind of 
short circuiting. The part to be punished was determined, 
but not yet the mode of punishment She took this from the 
illness of her father which she regarded also as a kind of punish- 
ment He died of apoplexy, which she believed to be related to 
his earlier alcoholism. She therefore developed an asynergia of 
the arm, which she was always afraid might develop into a real 
paralysis. A love affair with a married man which followed caused 
a strong access of self-reproach; she then punished herself further 
with a left hemiplegia like the one her father had. Finally came a 
neurotic disorder of vision, because her eyes had been extolled 
by her lover as being seductive. 

The author adds that self-reproaches can especially have a 
pathological influence if they concern tendencies whose sources 
are unknown to consciousness. Out of the misery of self-reproach 
results an ethical inhibition of the act which had led to the self- 
reproach; but this does not apply to misdeeds which arise from 
unconscious motives, 

The author describes his technique as follows. The patient 
relates a dream. The analyst discusses it with her and suggests to 
her some striking point on which she should ponder. Next time 
the patient comes with an explanation, the analyst criticises and 
makes remarks thereon; every time he had to draw her attention 
to a point which she had overlooked and had to give direction 
to her thoughts. Gradually the interpretation became complete and 
he finally got her to write it all out coherently. 

As with his technique, so also the author's psycho-analytical 
theory had not yet advanced to the later developmental stages of 
psycho-analysis. This is not to be wondered at, seeing that he 
first began to interest himself in the study of psycho-analysis 
in his forty-eigth year and, as University professor, not only had to 
brave the opposition of his associates, but also had to put aside 
his own previous conception as a neurologist The author has 
succeeded in overcoming this professional narcissism in a most 
praiseworthy manner. He further emphasizes his dissension from 
Freud's explanations in some respects. Freud holds that the affect 
selects, out of the numerous little daily events, that which has 
associative relationship with the affective unconscious content and 
that this appears as a dream motive; the author holds that the 



little incident sends out associative connections to the eslsily ex- 
pressed deeper emotional processes, 

In October and December, 1916, Jelgersma (13, 1916; 14, 
1916) read two papers at the Dutch Society of Psychiatry and 
Neurology and the Utrecht Medical Society, which show clearly 
his advance in recent years. In both papers were examples of 
sexual symbolism in neurotics fairly fully reported, and extra-genital 
sexuality was not forgotten. A music teacher had uneasy twitchings 
round the mouth on returning thanks after public performances. 
She suffered such unbearable anguish on these occasions that 
the feelings were repeated. They began after reading a book on 
the secrets of marriage. She had read of the labia and the pubic 
hair. Her own lips became the labia majora and the pubic hair 
the dreaded twitchings. Already in her youth had her large ugly 
mouth achieved the significance of a sexual symbol. With anguish 
she had often gazed upon it in the mirror. In a "cat-dream** she 
saw in the mouth of the cat a tail which resembled a phallus. 

Another young woman became nervous after breaking off her 
engagement. On analytic investigation it was disclosed that in 
early life an aunt had taken the child into bed with her and had 
masturbated with her legs between her own. A masculine attitude 
of the child resulted. When a girl friend appeared with her leg 
in a plaster dressing, the stiff leg awakened in the subsequent 
patient sundry feelings until she exactly imitated the gait. Then 
followed a manifest homosexual feeling; in her hysterical fits she 
acted in an infantile way. (The author also relates a tooth-ex- 
traction dream of his own which he traces to a castration complex). 

In the October lecture the author utilizes the explanation of 
some anxiety and compulsion cases to illustrate his above men- 
tioned thesis. According to him every stimulus of sufficient intensity 
becomes unpleasant, even if it is disproportionate. Thus an electric 
current of even minimal strength will be as harmful to the eye as 
a strong light stimulus. So with mental processes. The normal 
sexual function will not give rise to the least anxiety on repetition 
because the stimulus is proportionate. Sexual phantasy, on the 
other hand, is disproportionate and readily causes anxiety. Thence 
the author explains the anxiety of obsessive thoughts; for example^ 
a patient saw Jesus relieving himself But it is also detailed 
that he possessed a strong urethral and anal erotism and, in child- 
hood, had fallen in love physically with a picture of Christ. 


Van Ophuijsen (25, 1918) communicates three analytical frag- 
ments, which make clear the influence of the secondary advantages 
of illness and its convalescence on the course of the malady. 

Van der Chys (5, 1918) communicates part of an analysis of 
a patient with hallucinations, who had been taken seriously by 
the Society for Psychical Research and was proud of being able 
to evoke simultaneous hallucinations in himself and his mother. 
The hallucinatory voices scolded and reproached him because he 
as the "third Wilhelm", was responsible for the war; a "satanic 
personality" also said to him "I will suck out your anus" (with 
a hissing sibilant). Simultaneously with the hallucination he some- 
times had an erection as if to indicate what it referred to. A vision 
(horizontal cross on a light grey disc with two black eyes and 
a triangle for a nose; the cross held by a gigantic hand, beneath 
which a large globe, whence a fine voice recited an English poem 
about Alpha and Omega) turned out to be a condensation of many 
delusions of grandeur and thoughts of punishment and incest All 
these symptoms, especially the simultaneous hallucinations with 
the mother, were symbolic of the spiritual unity between him and 
her and stood as a substitute for forbidden acts. His love for a 
married woman, to which he does not yield, is consciously for- 
bidden him ; behind this are concealed his incestuous and perverse 
fixations. After a very short Freudian treatment by van der Chys the 
narcissistic patient obtained an insight into the nature of his illness 
and the hallucinations and insomnia vanished. 

In the artistic productions of the "Expressionist^ school, of 
which some are reproduced, the author sees images analogous 
with the visions described. In the autobiography of the painter 
van Kuyk are mentioned visions from another world in which 
contact with a superhuman mental force influences him and drags 
his own mental content into consciousness. These images are 
cryptograms, which are easily unmasked as representations of 
functioning genitalia. The author finally discusses the necessity of 
lowering the threshold of normality because of the tendency to 

Ad. F. Meyer (19, 1917) deals with homosexuality and its 
reciprocal relationship to the compulsion neurosis; homosexuality 
is a flight towards the same sex motivated by a perverse attitude 
towards the opposite sex and originating on the lines of the ob- 
sessional neurosis. In every obsessional neurosis one finds homo* 



sexual wishes in alliance with the most different partial impulses. 

Van Emden (6, 1917) points out that also heterosexuality may 
occur as a compulsion symptom, for example in the Don Juan 

Van Ophuijsen (24, 1917) comes to the conclusion that in every 
dream there are three kinds of wishes fulfilled: — 1. a purely 
phantastic wish not necessarily of an infantile character; 2. an 
infantile sexual wish related to an experience symbolically re- 
presented by the wish fulfilment; 3. a wish fulfilment, such as 
is expressed more directly in the psychoneurotic symptom and 
arises from autoerotic trends. 

Kiewet de Jonges*s Doctorate thesis of 210 pages (15, 1918) 
replaces Freud's theory of dreams by one of his own which pro- 
ceeds from the lower levels of consciousness during sleep. It is of 
no scientific value. 

Rivers (28, 1918) writes of the revolution in England respect- 
ing the sphere of the psychoneuroses. War experience has made 
clear to many psychologists the meaning of unconscious perceptions 
and repression, in short of Freud's teaching. The most satisfactory 
treatment of war neuroses was a kind of psychological analysis 
equivalent to a superficial Freudian psycho-analysis. 

Van Suchtelen (38, 1917) gives in his book, which is the most 
read of all Dutch presentations of Freud's teaching, but unfor- 
tunately based on Jung's complaisant innovations, fifteen dialogues 
between two narcissists, of whom one appears as the dreamer, the 
other as the interpreter. 

Van Valkenburg (39, 1918) and Prof. Kristensen (16, 1918) 
criticise this book, the latter author, who is a mythological scholar, 
adding a number of comments. According to a well known myth 
God formed man out of the dust of the earth and breathed into 
his nostrils the breath of life, then he took a rib from the man and 
therefrom created woman. Modelling precedes generation as a 
method of creating. According to the Egyptian myth Chnum 
formed the world out of his disc like a potter. Even when one 
speaks of the cosmic egg, the modelling of this egg by the God- 
Creator may be the first act of creation ; the world did not originate 
in the poultry-yard. (We can only be grateful to Prof Kristensen 
for his contribution to the excremental myth of creation). Other 
cosmic myths tell of the creative strength of the Divine word 
(the God-Creator Ptah, first Egyptian Dynasty). To this myth 
r 1 « ...ii..iiiial from 



of the magical power of speech we cannot, according to Prof 
Kristensen, attach a sexual meaning as van Suchtelen does. ("Fire 
is life, as it arises from the primaevel libido, the sexual impulse 
to create. But fire is also speech*'). According to van Suchtelen 
the crux ansata is the placing together of the male and female 
symbols, or the triple man-god with the single woman-god. Also 
Father Jablonski who died in 1757 discerned a phallic symbol in 
it. According to Prof Kristensen it signifies the magic knot and 
has acquired the secondary meaning — "Life". Moreover, the T-cross 
is not, as van Suchtelen suggests, the triple male organ, the strong 
life-giving Egyptian God as he stood erect with outspread wings 
ready to impregnate as in the old temple pictures. Also the 
Babylonian trees of life have nothing to do with phallic symbolism. 
On the other hand every historian of religion can bring forward 
facts showing the significance of sexuality in religion, for example 
— the creation myth of Turn, whose brutally evident sexual signi- 
ficance leaves nothing to be desired, also the myths of Eros and 
Kama. Further, the ithyphallic pictures of Min and Osiris sym- 
bolize the resurrection of cosmic and human life respectively. The 
Babylonians represent the Universe in their Kudurrus in phallic 
form and the Egyptians in the earliest ages of their history gave 
the name "Phallus" to the soul of Re and Osiris. 

According to Prof Kristensen the sexual motif in Mythology 
has now become freely acknowledged, but just for that reason 
one can deny its paramount significance. 

J. Starcke (35, 1916) has collected and expounded a mass of 
conscious and unconscious symbolic material from pictorial and 
plastic art in which apparently irrelevant decoration frequently 
originates in some symbolism full of meaning. This is also the 
case with symbolic religious conceptions. The deep impression that 
such symbolic conceptions can make is probably due for the most 
part to the fact that our unconscious understands the hidden sexual 
meaning of the symbols. 

Schroeder (31, 1917) has analysed Apuleius's story of Amor and 
Psyche. To the same group belong Grimm^s fable (No. 88) of the 
springing singing lion-acorn, "Le Loup Blanc" by E. Cosquin, related 
in "Contes populaires de la Lorraine", and a Benaresfable of 1840 
told by an Indian washerwoman. The delivery to a snake, who 
is a prince and visits his sweetheart only by night, the mystery 
of the name, the disappearance and search, the voluntary servitude 

r I . Original from 



of the stepmother, the help from animals in carrying out the 
imposed task, all these motifs appear in parallel fables. In the 
Amor and Psyche type, the motif of the delivery of a maiden to 
a monster is combined with the W(7/// of disappearance. In Grimm's 
fairy tales and in the myth of Andromeda and Hesion, only 
the first has import; in the Lorin and Marten fables (Melusine, 
Lohengrin), only the second. The delivery of a maiden to a 
monster signifies her intimacy with the male organ; as soon as 
she learns to love the object of her earlier fear, the animal is 
changed into a beautiful youth. For the disappearance motif the 
author, like Laistner, admits the influence of the dream; it is the 
supernatural husband symbol of the (erotic) dream, therefore he 
comes only at night. 

Van der Hoop (10, 1918) writes about Meirink's "Der Golem'' 
and finds therein symbolically represented the development of sensual 
into spiritual love. In its yet deeper meaning he sees this love- 
longing bound up with the search after the Eternal in us, the 
individual Soul. "The unreality of Ilillel, the inaccessible height, 
is our own ideal and can only be striven for by denying the 
great part of our mind which remains hidden, just because it 
cannot express itself." "Pernath suffers anguish because of his un- 
conscious and because of love, which is the longing for union 
with his own Soul." 

C^ €\r\cA{? Orrgmaf from 




1. DotL M. Levi Bianchini: Psicoanalisi ed Isterismo, // Maniconiio, 
arckivio di psichiatria e scienze affini, 1913, No 1. 

In this work Psycho-Analysis is adjudged as having a scientific 
value, though with reservation : "Without being admissible as a 
systematic and specific means of investigation of psychopathic and 
psychoneurotic phenomena, Psycho- Analysis gains a decided value 
when it is destined to apply a generic and universal right line to 
analytical investigations of the normal, and also of the diseased 

In the historical presentation of Psycho- Analysis the author 
dwells long on the original conception of the mechanism of hysteria 
as it was published by Breuer and Freud in 1895. Also the further 
phase of the psycho-analytic method, the abandonment of hypnosis, 
is brought forward, yet the psycho-analytic technique of to-day is 
not recapitulated sufficiently in detail. One misses the rendering 
of the psycho-analytical conception of the mechanism and genesis 
of the neuroses. 

We would also mention that the author represented the fact 
as completely inexplicable by the sexual theory that hysteria 
appears also in individuals "who are not only completely normal 
but almost too frigid", in others who are completely satisfied 
sexually, such as prostitutes and old people ; the author thinks 
that logically no sexual conflicts can or should exist in all these 

In spite of such objections, however, the author wishes in 
conclusion to acknowledge the high value of Psycho-Analysis. 

2. E. Lugaro (Prof, of Psychiatryin Turin) : La psichiatria tedesca 
nella storia e attualita. VI. I Secessionist!., Revista di Patologia 
nervosa e mentale, 1917, Fasc. 2. 

The sixth of a series of essays published during the world 

^ Translated by Estellc Cole. 

C^ €\€'\ ^ I ^** Orrginaf from 



war with a national-polemic intention deals essentially with Psycho- 
Analysis. Sigmund Freud belongs in the first place to the "se- 
cessionists". The section "S. Freud e la psichoanalisi^*, over 20 pages 
long, contains a mockingly superior criticism of the psycho-analytical 
school, rejecting it throughout. 

3. G. Modena: La psicoanalisi in Neuropatologia e in Psichiatria, 
Qtuidemi di Psichiatria, Vol. II, 1915. 

The author treats of Psycho- Analysis in a very concise form 
and urges to greater caution in the judgement of the theoretical 
statements of Freud and his pupils; at the same time he recognizes 
the genius of the Viennese psychologist and the originality of 
some of his daring views, which also can be applied outside 
psychopathology in the field of ethics, arts, and sociology. 

For six years he had pursued with interest the psycho-analytic 
movement, stimulated by Ernest Jones. For three years he has 
attempted to practise the psycho-analytic method in many cases, 
confining himself to the advice and directions of the authors cited. 
He has come to the conviction that many of Freud^s statements 
are entirely valid. Therapeutically the author observed improvement 
during the treatment and the cessation of acute symptoms ; 
directing the patient's mind to the memory of the traumatic event 
often brought about relief. 

In his opinion the psycho-analytical theory is based on two 
principles : a psychological one that may be called Psychodynamic 
and a pathogenetic one that Bleuler calls Pansexualism. The idea 
of the Unconscious (that of Lipps) forms the nucleus of the 
Psychodynamics. The poor distribution of the emotional elements 
forms the foundation of the neuroses. This poor distribution 
originates in a repression or displacement of the affective factors, 
as the result of moral, educational and cultural influences. 

The **actual neuroses" are mentioned and the author ac- 
knowledges that in Italy less attention than they deserve has been 
paid to the anxiety neuroses. He himself could often convince 
himself of the sexual aetiology of many anxiety attacks, and ob- 
served their disappearance after the removal of the frustrated 
sexual excitement. 

C^ €\r\cA{? OrFginaf from 


K, ABRAHAM, Berlin.* 

The first psycho-analytical publications in Spanish have reached 
us from South America. Our Science has made its entry into the 
psychiatric clinic of the University of Lima in the last few years. 
The Revista de Psiquiatria which appeared there since 1918 
publishes in every number orienting essays which acquaint one 
with psycho-analytical questions. Dr. Honorio F. Delgado is the 
author of most of the articles ; they show that this author, with 
great thoroughness and fine discernment, has made himself ac- 
quainted with the entire subject, including the applications of 
psycho-analysis apart from medicine. 

Up to the present time the following works are to be had : 

1. Delgado, H, F., La nueva faz de la psicologia normal y 
clinica. (The new view of normal and clinical psychology) Revista 
de Psiquiatria 1918. 

After a survey of the chief aims of the newer psychology, the 
author turns to psycho-analysis in detail and calls special attention 
to its characteristics and its achievements. 

2. Delgado H. P. El psicanalisis en sus applicationes extra 
psiquiatrias. Ibid. 1918. 

Here the author gives a searching representation of the Libido 
theory, the interpretation of dreams^ as well as the contents of all 
important non-medical psycho-analytical publications which have 
appeared in our periodical literature and in the **Schriften zur 
angewandten Seelenkunde'*. Especially to be mentioned is the 
ardour of his advocacy of the Freudian theory and the clearly 
placed arrangement of the many-sided material. Worthy of remark 
is also the skill with which Delgado has transferred the psycho- 
analytic terminology to his mother-tongue. 

3. Delgado //, P., La psiquiatria psicologica, Ibid. 1918. 

* Translated by Estelle Cole. 

467 Orrgmaffnonn 




This treats of the application of psycho-analysis in psychiatry. 
Amongst others the theory of transference is discussed in detail. 

4. Delgado H. F., La rehabilitaci6n de la interpretaci6n de los 
suenos. (The vindication of the interpretation of dreams,) Rev. de 
Criminologia, Psiquiatria e Medicina Legal, 1918. 

5. Delgado H. F., El Psicoanalisis, Lima, 1919. 

Delgado gives in this publication, which has appeared in book 
form, an excellent survey of the psycho-analytical theory of instinct 
and the theory of the neurosis and mental disease built up on it. 

6. Delgado //. F,, La psicologia de la locura. El Siglo medico 
Madrid, 1919. 

Delgado publishes in a Spanish periodical El Siglo medico 
(The Medical Century) an excellent essay on the psychology of 
disorders of the mind. He sharply criticises the prevailing method 
of investigation centering as it does around anatomy, expresses 
himself with great decision on behalf of the psychological direction 
in psychiatry and brings into prominence with great accuracy the 
achievements of psycho-analysis. This article reveals in a special 
way the fine psychological comprehension of the author, his 
psychiatric experience and his far-reaching knowledge of literature. 

7. A. Z,, Tratamiento psicoanalitico de un caso de neurosis 
compulsiva. Rev. de Psiquiatria, 1918. 

This gives an account of the successful treatment of a com- 
pulsion neurosis through psycho-analysis and contrasts the system 
and result of the analytical therapy with other methods. 

C^ €\r\cA{? Orrgmaf from 



G^ZA SZILAGYI, Budapest.^ 


1. Anonymous: Review of **On Rhyme and Refrain'* by R. Wei^s. (Dec. 

1st. 1913.) Huszadik Szdzad, July— September 1914. 

2. Apdtky, Stcphan: Opening lecture at the founding of the Eugenic Section 

of the Hungarian Sociological Society at Budapest, 24th. 
January 1914. 

3. Csdth, G^za (Dr. Josef Brenner): A tudomanyos megi^mercs utja. Koper- 

nikus— Darwin— Freud. (The Path of Scientific Knowledge.) 
Szabadgondolat, June 1914, 

4. Dicsi^ Imrc: A nagysagos asszony idegei. (The Nerves of My Lad>.) 

Budapest 1914. 

5. Ibid.: Ember, midrt vagy ideges ? (Man, why art thou nervous?) 

Budapest 1917. 

6. Ibid.: Freud. Vildg, 17th. May 1914. 

7. Dukes, Giza: Kriminol6gia cs pszichoanalizis. Jogtudomdnyi KSzldny 

No. 4, 1920. 

8. Fclszegky, Bila: Totem 6s Tabu nyomok a jogban. (Totem and Taboo 

leave their marks on justice.) Huszadik Szdzad Jan.-Feb. 

9. Ibid. : A panik. A Pinkomplexum pszichoanalizise. (Panic. The 

Psycho-Analysis of the Pan-Complex.) Huszadik Szdzad, 
May 1919. 

10. Firenczi, Sdndor: L^lekelemzCs. ifertekei^ek a pszichoanalizis kOr^bOl. 

(Treatises on Psycho-Analysis). 2nd. Ed. Budapest 1914, 
3rd. Ed., 1918. 

11. Ibid.: Lelki probMmik a pizichoanalizis megviligitdsdban. (Mental 

Problems in the Light of Psycho-Analysis.) 2nd. Ed. Buda- 
pest 1918. 

12. Ibid.: Ideges tOnetck keletkez^sc 6s eltOn^se 6s egy6b 6rtc- 

kez6sek a pszichoanalizis k0r6b61. (Origin and disappear- 
ance of Neurotic Symptoms, and other treatises on 
Psycho-Analysis.) Budapest 1914. 2nd.. Ed. 1919. (On the 
cover 1920.) 

13. Ibid.: A pszichoanalizis haladisa. ]&rtekez6sek. (The Progress of 

Psycho-Analysis.) Budapest 1919. (On the cover 1920.) 

* Translated by Sybil C. Porter. Originaffrom 




14. Ibid. : A hiszt^ria €s a pathoneurozisok. Pszichoanalitikai 6rtekez6sek. 

(Hysteria and Pathoneuroses.) Budapest 1919. (On the cover 

15. Ibid,: A veszedelmek j^gkorszaka. (The Ice- Age of the Mind.) 

Nyugat, Aug.-Sept. 1915. 

16. Ibid,: A mechanika lelki fejlOd^stOrt^nete. Kritikai megjegyz^ek 

Mach egy tanulminyihoz. (The Psycho-Genesis of Mechanics. 
Critical Remarks on a book by Mach.) Nyugat 1918, II. 

17. Ibid.: A mese lilektanar61. (On the Psychology of Fairy Tales.) 

Nyugat 1918, U. 

18. Ibid,: Pszichoanalizis €s kriminologia. UJ Forradalom No. 1, 1919. 

19. Freud, Sigm. Pszichoanalizis. Ot elGadis. Forditotta dr. Ferenczi S4ndor. 

(Psycho-Analysis. Five Lectures. Translated by Dr. S. 
Ferenczi.) 2nd. Ed., Budapest 1915, 3rd. Ed. 1919. 

20. Ibid.: Az ilomrdl. A 2. kiadas utan forditotta dr. Ferenczi S. 

(On Dreams. From the 2nd. Edition. Translated by Dr. S. 
Ferenczi.) Budapest 1915, 2nd. Ed., 1919. 

21. Ibid,: Harom 6rtekez6s a szexualitis elmilet^rfil. A 3. bfivitett 

kiadas utin forditotta ds el6sz6val ellAtta dr. Ferenczi 
Sandor. (Three Contributions to the Theory of Sex. From 
the 3rd. Enlarged Edition, Translated and Prefaced by 
Dr. S. Ferenczi.) Budapest 1916, 2nd. Ed. 1919, 

22. Ibid.: Totem ^s Tabu. Forditotta dr. Pdrtos Zoltdn. A forditdst 

revidedlta dr. Ferenczi Sdndor. (Totem and Taboo. Trans- 
lated by Dr. Z. Partos. The translation revised by Dr. S. 
Ferenczi.) Budapest 1918. 

23. Ibid.: Kell-e az egyetemen a pszicho-analizist tanitani. (On the 

question of teaching Psycho-Analysis at the University.) 
''GydgydszaV 1919, No. 13. 

24. Ibid.: A pszichoanalizis egy nehizs6g^r61. (One of the Difficulties 

of Psycho-Analysis.) Nyugat 1917. I. 

25. Hollds, Istvdn: Pszichoanalitikai problemak: Dr. Ferenczi Sindor, Ideges 

tQnetek keletkezisc is egy^b drtekezisek a pszichoanalizis 
kOribol. L^lekelemzis, irtekez^sek a pszichoanalizis kOrdbCl. 
(Psycho-Analytical Problems. A Review of some works 
of Dr. S. Ferenczi.) Huszadik Szdzad, April 1914. 

26. Ibid.: Ferenczi Sindor kOnyvei: Lilekelemz6s. Ideges tttnetck 

keletkezise 6s egy^b irtekezisek. (The Works of S. 
Ferenczi. A Review.) Nyugat 1914. I. 

27. Ibid.: Egy versraond6 betegrCl. (On a patient who declaimed 

verses.) Nyugat 1914, I. 

28. /r.(inszki) /.(mre): Review of **Grenzen der Seele" (Borders of the Mind) 

by Emil Luckas. Huszadik Szdzad, December 1918. 

29. Kinszki, Imre : A hatalom szociol<5gidjdr61 ^s etikAj4r61. Alfred Vierkandt: 

Machtverhaltnisse und Machtmoral. (On Sociology and 
the Ethic of Power. A Review of Vierkandt's work **Thc 
Circumstances and Morality of Power".) Huszadik SzdzaJ, 
March 1919.^ Original from 



30. Kolnai, Auril: Aktivitis 6s passzivitds a kulturfejlOdisben. (Activity and 

Passivity in the Development of Civilization.) Huszadik 
Szdzad, December 1918. 

31. ^.(olnai) i4.(ur6I) : Pacifista nevel6s. Wilhelm BOrner, Erziehung zur Friedens- 

gesinnung. (Pacifist Education. A Review of BOmer's work 
"The Education of Peaceful Sentiments.) Huszadik Szdzad, 
December 1918. 

32. Kolnai, Auril: Az dllandd ^ vdltoz^kony dlldspont l^lektanihoz. (The 

Psychology of Rigid and Unstable Standpoints.) Huszadik 
Szdzad, April 1919. 

33. L. J,: A nemi problemAhoz. Szdsz Zoltdn, A szerelem. (A Review 

of **On the Sex Problem" by Z. Szdsz.) Huszadik Szdzad, 
March 1914. 

34. Leckner^ Kdroly : A freudizmusr61. (On Freudism.) Magyar Pacdagogia 

1914, No. 8. 

35. Lesznai. Anna : Babonds ^szrev^telek a mese ^s a trag^dia l^lektanahoz* 

(Superstitious Remarks on the Psychology of Fairy Tales 
and Tragedy.) Nyugat 1918, II. 

36. Picker, Kdroly: Megjegyzc'sek a lelki epid^mia Mnyeg^rOl. (On the Nature 

of Mental Epidemic.) Huszadik Szdzad, March 1915. 

37. Pdheim, Giza: Az 61et fonala. (The Thread of Life.) Ethnographia, 1917. 

38. Ibid.: A kazar nagyfejedelem ^ a Turulmonda. (The Kasarian 

Grand-Duke and the Story of the Tumi.) Ethnographia 

39. Ihid.: A kazar ^s a magyar nagyfejedelem. (The Kasarian and 

the Hungarian Grand-Duke.) Ethnographia 1918. 

40. Ibid.: Psychoanalysis 6s ethnologia. I. Az ambivalentia 6s a meg- 

forditas t6rv6nye. II. A symbolumok tartalma 6s a libido 
feilOd6se, (Psycho-Analysis and Ethnology. I. Ambivalence 
and the Law of Inversion. II. The Content of the Symbol 
and the Developmental History of the Libido.) Ethno- 
graphia 1918. 

41. Sisa, Miklds: A freudizmus. (Freudism.) Alfold, Kecskemet, 1914. 

42. Ibid.: A hdboni 6s a pszichoszexualitds. (The War and Psycho- 

Sexuality.) Nyugat 1916, II. 

43. Ibid.: A hiborii 6s a haldl 161ektanahoz: Zeitgem^fies Qber Krieg 

und Tod, von Sigm. Freud. (The Psychology of War and 
Death. Review of Freud's ^^Reflections on War and Death".) 
Huszadik Szdzad, March 1916. 

44. Ibid.: A tOraeg lelke. Freudista kis6rlet. (The Mind of the Crowd. 

A Freudian Essay.) Nyugat 1916, II. 

45. Szdsz, Zoltdn : Freudizmus a szinpadon. (Freudism on the stage.) Szinhdzi 

ilet, 25th. November 1919. 

46. Szildgyi, Giza: Freud 6s Apathy. (Freud and Apithy.) Two Articles. Az 

Ujsdg, March 1914. 

47. Varjas, Sdndor: Totem 6s Tabu. Huszadik Szdzad, May 1914. 

48. Ibid.: Totem 6s Tabu. Darwin, 1st. May 1914. 

r I . Originaffnonn 



49. Ibid.: Az ideges jellemrOl. (Review ol Alfred Adler's •'On the 

Nervous Character".) Huszadik Szdzad, January 1914. 

50. Ibid,: Changes in Freudism. Two Lectures given at the Free 

School of the Society for Social Science, Budapest^ March- 
April 1914. 

51. Ibid.: Review of A. J. Storfer's "Mary's Virgin Motherhood", 

Huszadik Szdzad, June 1914. 

52. Ibid.: A haboni a pszichoanalizis szempontjib61. (The War from 

the Point of View of Psycho-Analysis.) Huszadik Szdzad. 
June 1915. 

53. Ibid.: A habonis szenved^lyek nOveked^se 6s fogyisa LII. (The 

Rise and Fall of Warlike Passion.) Huszadik Szdzad, Sept. 
1916 and Oct.-Nov. 1916. 


During the years 1914 — 1919 Hungarian psycho-analytical lite- 
rature received its greatest enrichment through the translation of 
Freud's works, as well as by an edition of Ferenczi^s collected 
articles which had previously appeared singly. The fact that Freud*s 
translated works have already passed through several editions since 
their first appearance is sufficient proof of the increasing interest 
in Hungary for Psycho-Analysis. 

The review of Freud's works by Varjas (48) calls for special 
mention. He lays stress on the point that Freud's epoch-making 
hypothesis of the origin of totem and taboo is truly pioneer and 
differs from all other hypotheses in that it possesses a future but 
no past 

Next in importance to the translation of Freud's work comes 
the collected edition of Ferenczi's articles. We thoroughly endorse 
Freud's dictum in his "History of the Psycho-Analytical Movement'' 
that "Hungary has contributed one fellow worker only in Psycho- 
Analysis, but in S. Ferenczi one who outweighs a whole society". 
Ferenczi's earlier writings which appeared before 1914 -have al- 
ready passed through two editions (10, 11) and in addition he has 
published three new volumes of valuable material, the most recent 
of which appeared at the same time in German.* The contents of 
this work will be elsewhere reviewed. 

Of the reviews of Ferenczi's works, those by Holl6s (25, 26) 
are worth special notice. Although his articles were designed for 
a public unversed in the methods of Psycho-Analysis, they go 
far beyond the limits of an ordinary review and present what 

* *'Hystcrie und Pathoneuroscn." Int. Psychoanalyt. Bib. Nr. 2, 1919. 


may be regarded as a standard account, equally characterised by 
its pregnancy and its conciseness, of the theoretical and practical 
significance of the science. 

M- Sisa's short article (41) is a somewhat disconnected rhapsody 
on the results of Psycho-Analysis, essentially the enraptured cry 
of the enthusiast. According to Sisa the perspectives of Freudism 
are: a new penal code, a new system of education, new morals, 
a soul set free, a socialised people, a people who have learnt to 
economise their energies, an harmonious people! Csath's article 
(3) has also a touch of rhapsody, but for the rest gives Freud's 
life-work its true valuation as a milestone in modem natural 

The neurologist K. Lechner, Professor of Klausenburg Univer- 
sity, gives a cursory survey of the status and results of Psycho- 
Analysis in three lectures delivered before the medical section ot 
the Transylvanian Museums Association, a detailed extract from 
which has been published (34). Lechner's work shows a certain 
knowledge of psycho-analytical literature up to the year 1914 but 
he has not gone deeply into the subject nor has he acquired 
a thorough understanding of it. 

Professor Stephen von Apathy launches a violent attack (2) 
on Freud, stigmatising him as "the representative of Semitic Pan- 
Erotism'*. Attacks such as this betray alike the personal animus 
of the writer and the fact that he has lost his way in the subject 
of Psycho-Analysis, and the aim of G6za Szilagyi's two polemical 
articles (46) is to point out the baselessness of Apathy's con- 
tention, while exposing its unscientific origin. To these articles 
Apathy significantly made no reply. 

I. D^csi writes two works (5, 6) in popular, belles-lettres style 
intended for the laity only, similar to the book (4) previously 
published by him, being chats on nerve hygiene and pedagogy. 
What this author says of Stekel can with justice and reason be 
applied to his own productions: ''Somewhat reminiscent of a 
feuilleton^ acute to the verge of cunning, often extremely clever, 
often painfully superficial, but on the whole good wark'\ 

Of the seceders from the Freudian school, Alfred Adler finds 
a reviewer in Varjas, who undertakes a discussion (49) of Adler's 
chief work **0n the Nervous Character". In two later lectures (50) 
Varjas endeavours to bring about a compromise between Freud 

and Adler, in which he is naturally unsuccessful. 

r i\\\it- -..qinalfrDm 



A large number of articles relate to the wide province of the 
application of Psycho- Analysis to the mental sciences. 

(a) Psychology. Aur^l Kolnai (32) discusses the psychological 
opposites of persistent rigidity and a state of unstable equilibrium, 
m conclusion the emergence of a compromise between both, namely, 
organic development 

(b) Group Psychology. K. Picker endeavours to diagnose the 
so-called "mental epidemic'' (36). M. Sisa aspires to explore the 
mind of the crowd in a "Freudian Essay** (44). He tries to prove 
the theory that the group-mind is similar to the infantile mind 
and that in a given crowd he who first shakes off the censorship 
of civilization will become the suggestor to the group. He brings 
numerous examples to illustrate his study of the subject and his 
results may be briefly summed as follows: The group-mind knows 
only momentary impulses, gratitude instead of love, revenge in 
the place of hate. The crowd experiences primitive feelings alone. 
In aesthetic or ethical feelings there is present a high degree of 
sublimation and of this the crowd is incapable. The feeling of the 
crowd is ambivalent, hence the variability of its mood. The re- 
stricted gamut of feeling is compensated for by the intensity of 
feeling. The crowd is passionate and excitable just as a child is. 
Individuals are differentiated by the diversity of their censorships 
the crowd on the contrary embodies a collective mind, uncensored 
and therefore infantile. The group-mind originates, then, because 
it is a pleasurable wish-fulfilment to be infantile, that is to say, 
free, untrammelled, and censorless. It is when man encounters a 
stimulus strong enough to arouse in him the consciousness of 
having nothing to fear from organised society that he dares to 
feel himself as a group-mind. The author gives as a proof the two 
following examples: in the first example the crowd perceives itself 
as society (for instance, the audience of a theatre), in the second 
it holds itself to be stronger than society (a revolutionary mob). 

B(^la V. Felszeghy writes on that important phenomenon in the 

sphere of crowd-psychology, panic (9). His article in Hungarian 

on this subject which essays to uncover the series of unconscious 

causes of the tension states of panic contains merely an epitome 

and the conclusions of a more detailed paper which was published 

later in German, "Panik und Pankomplex"^ In the Hungarian 

« Imago, 1920, B. VI, S. 1. 

r . OrFginaffnom 



abstract he states, taking the analysis of the Pan myth as basis, 
that our first panic, our first catastrophic shock, is the cataclysm 
of birth. This, our first psycho-physical terrified recoil from reality, 
continues to vibrate in the centre of all subsequent panic reflexes. 
The actual contact with the crowd, the sensation of being crushed 
in the midst of a crowd, stimulates the urge to panic which has 
its roots in the birth-phantasy. The author contends that panic is 
concerned with two regressions in relation to a fundamental re- 
gression that has a phylogenetic significance on the one hand and 
an ontogenetic on the other, both comprised by the individual in 
the conscious birth-phantasy. "All panic is libido, or the desire 
to be, condensed into a birth-phantasy." It is thus a vain task to 
attempt to counteract panic. This readiness to explode is an 
attribute of life as it is an expression of the ego-instinct and at 
the same time the expression of it is a satisfaction of the libido. In 
conclusion Felszeghy throws out the possibility of assuming a 
single Pan-complex, a unit that contains the whole-: the parental 
complex, the QEdipus complex, and the castration complex. The 
advantages to be gained by the assumption of this primitive com- 
plex are according to Felszeghy: 1. The Pan-complex accords with 
the cosmic unconscious and in the varying consciousness of every 
individual is actually the common denominator of all conscious 
factors. It has thus the property of rendering the relation of the 
cosmic to the individual life perceptible to that latter, viz: the 
ego itself. 2. Furthermore this assumption would simplify technique 
and at the same time method in psychology, particularly in Psycho- 
Analysis as all complexes would be comprehended under the 

(c) Psychology of Religion. S. Varjas presents a short review 
of A. J. Storfer*s well-known work, "Marias jungfrauliche Mutter- 
schaft** (Mary*s virgin motherhood) (51). 

(a) Sociology, A. Kolnai discusses, in a sociological-political 
study, activity and passivity in the development of civilization (30). 
The author makes profuse references to Psycho-Analysis, particularly 
to Freud*s doctrine of the instincts and the conclusions arrived 
at in Freud's book '*Totem and Taboo''. 

(ej yurisprudence, Fercnczi refers to the important connection 
between criminology and Psycho-Analysis in a masterly work (18) 
that appeared later in an edition of collected writings under the title 
'*A pszichoanalizis haladasa". (The Progress of Psycho-Analysis) (13). 



He refers to the necessity for the foundation of a psycho- 
analytical criminology, seeing that, of all mental motives for crime, 
criminology has hitherto left out of account the most important^ 
namely, the strivings of the unconscious mental life. It would be 
the task of the psycho-analyst in criminology to discover these 
powerful motives, the material of which would be brought to light 
by a systematic psycho-analysis of criminals in prison. Criminal 
psychology would contribute to the prevention of crime and would 
make possible the after-education of criminals so important in the 
interests of society. 

Dukes' article (7) is at one with Ferenczis in urging the 
professional criminologists to comply with Ferenczi*s fruitful sug- 
gestion and carry out revolutionary revision of criminology on 
the basis of psycho-analytical knowledge. 

Felszcghy (8) traces the influence of totem and taboo in legal 
matters. He suggests that the employment of Psycho-Analysis to 
make a thorough investigation of the various theses, usages, rites 
and institutions of law would be very beneficial. He points out in 
reference to Freud's "Totem and Taboo" that traces of totem and 
taboo lurk even in modern institutions, customs, and prohibitions 
of jurisprudence. He supports this theory with recent examples 
of the taboo of royalty, for instance the protection of royal families 
from the ordinary penal code, the ceremony of the coronation 
of kings, the immunity of members of parliament, the privileges 
of the nobility and so on. 

(f) Folk-lore. Special note should be made of the pioneer 
work of G. R6heim (37, 38, 39, 40), which will be referred to 
again later in the section on ethnology. 

(g) Mythology and Fairy Tales, Ferenczi carried on a discus- 
sion (17) with Anna Lesznai which appeared in the periodical Nyugat 
the editor of which, H. Ignotus, has always evinced a practical 
interest in Psycho-Analysis. This author in her work on the 
psychology of Fairy Tales and Tragedy (35) maintained inter alia 
that Freudians arbitrarily stamped every fairy tale with the hall- 
mark of a sexual wish-fulfilment. 

(h) Natural Philosophy. A memorable treatise by Ferenczi 
dealing from the psycho-analytical point of view with E* Mach*s 
book entitled ^Kultur und Mechanik'* (Civilization and Mechanics), 
appeared first in Hungarian (16) and later in German under the 



title "Zur Psychogenesc dcr Mcchanik'' (On the Psycho-Genesis of 

(i) Aisthetics, Art, Literature. In a review of Ferenczi's works 
(26) Istvdn HoI16s gives prominence to the psycho-analytical in- 
vestigation of the problem of artistic creation. Psycho-Analysis 
explores behind every work of art for a hidden third dimension — 
the determinants of the poetic mind reaching far back into the 
infantile period, the psychic constellation developing from the con- 
flict between sexuality and the dictates of society. 

The poet and the artist have a direct grasp of the truth and 
the practical significance of Psycho-Analysis and the analyst finds 
the most striking proofs of his scientific theories in their works. 
Holl6s supports this view of the psychology of the poetic creation 
by the publication with psycho-analytic comments of some verses 
written by a mental patient of his (27). These verses were pro- 
duced during the treatment The mental disease, by making a free 
manifestation of the unconscious possible, enabled the patient to 
break out instinctively into rhythmical utterances, to declaim at 
times really wonderfully coloured phrases of primitive force, and 
to create an original and wholly individual form of speech. Words 
welled up from his unconscious mind which had been heard by 
him long before and which by some strange process had become 
attached to each other in a kind of series. The revelation of his 
own unconscious mind to himself was the direct consequence of 
his unhappy fate. Possessing a strong poetic vein, but lacking the 
poetic means of expression, the patient was transformed into a 
poet after his own unique pattern when once his unconscious mind 
liad been laid bare by a mental upheaval. 

The performance ot the Dutch comedy **Femina** in which 
the caricatured hero is a psycho-analytical neurologist, gave Z. 
Szasz, one of the best known and most popular of authors and 
essay writers, the opportunity to criticize Freudism and its influence 
on belles-lettres (45). He refers to Freudism "this wonderful new 
doctrine and method of psychology and psycho-therapy" as one 
of the most characteristic important phenomena of the last twenty 

It may not be out of place to mention here that the belles- 
Icttres and literary criticism of **Young Hungary'' are strongly 
influenced by Freudian ideas and have appropriated many of the 

« Imago, 1919. B. V. S. 394. 

r L^ Orrgmaffnonn 



gains of Psycho-Analysis. For example, the lyric poems of Dezs5 
Kosztolanyi, (A szeg^ny kisgeryermek panaszai: The lament of the 
poor little child), many stories and satires of Frigyes Karinthy, 
the novels of Alexander Br6dy, G6za Csdth, D. Kosztoldnyi, G6za 
Szildgyi, Michael Babits (A g61yakalifa: The Stork Calif), Mildn 
FQst (A nevetOk: They who laugh), many critical studies and 
articles of Hugo Ignotus, all bear unmistakable signs of an unusual 
knowledge of the mind orientated by Freudian doctrine. In various 
narratives by Ludwig Bir6 (A Molitorhdz: Molitor House), Endre 
Nagy, and G6za Barcsay-Feh6r the heroes are actually psycho- 
analytical doctors. It is of course the fault of the authors that 
these physician heroes conduct themselves in a way that strikes 
anyone acquainted with psycho-analytical technique as not only 
incorrect, but approaching the grotesque. Two novels, one by 
Paul Forr6 (Egy diakkor tOrt^nete: The Story of Student days), 
and the other by Imre Ve6r (Imago, a k^tnemQ ember: Imago, 
the bi-sexual Man), are advertised as psycho-analytical novels, 
which description, however, subserves a purely commercial end and 
has not the slightest justification. With a few exceptions the 
Hungarian press, particularly in Budapest, regards Psycho-Analysis 

with favour. 


Psycho-Analysis has, cum grano salts, produced a literature of 
the war. Several contributions on the subject have been published 
in Hungarian. 

In a treatise not wholly free from internal contradictions, Sandor 
Varjas, relying partly on Freudian opinions and partly on Adlerian 
errors, seeks the original motive of the war in the Will to Power 
which he holds as being stronger than the Will to Live (52). This 
view is opposed by M. Sisa (42) (who, by the way, has also provided 
us with an excellent review of Freud*s memorable essay **Re- 
flections on War and Death'*), who holds that not the Will to Power 
but sexuality is stronger than the Will to Live. His view, which 
though only roughly sketched is of great interest is that the normal 
mind of men and of nations of the twentieth century is paranoid- 
ally tinged and that the primary motive of the world war was 
in the origin nothing less than an explosive discharge of the 
tension caused by a persecution-delusion arising as reaction to a 
homosexual partial impulse. Varjas, who has already been men- 

tioned, entirely forsakes the premises of Psycho-Analysis in his 

r I . Origin^. .,■.-,.. 



Studies on the rise and fall of war-like passions (53). He takes 
the so-called "frustration^' /. e, the failure of a normal reaction to 
pleasurable sensations, the impossibility of a climax, as a funda- 
mental principle in explanation of unconscious life. Passion is such 
a frustration that finds its pleasure in itself, in frustration. The 
greatest frustration is the desire for power and mastery which, 
when united with Varjas' second fundamental principle, the need 
for mental conflict, constitutes the chief originating motive of the 
world-war. It is unnecessary to go further into this artificial theory 
that calls itself psycho-analytic, but which, in our opinion, falls 
wholly outside the limits of Psycho- Analysis. 

Ferenczi, in a remarkable article (15), refers to the world war 
as a **psychological experiment of nature'' to demonstrate that in 
the mind of civilized man there lie concealed in times of peace, 
alike the child, the savage and the primitive human being. The 
war cast us back into the Ice- Age mentally, /. e. it uncovered the 
deep-seated characteristics that this period left ingrained in the 
mental life of mankind. 

In conclusion let me draw attention to a review by A. K, 
(Aur^l Kolnai) (31) of a pamphlet on pacifist education, a little 
work which lends a happy finishing touch to Ferenczi's thesis by 
stating that "war is to be overcome, if anywhere, in the nursery". 

C^ €\r\cA{? Orrgmaf from 



Instinct and the UNCONsaous. A Contribution to a Biological Theory 
of the Psycho-Neuroses. By W. H. R. Rivers, MX)., D.Sc., F.R.S., (Cam- 
bridge University Press, 1920. Pp. 252. Price 10s. 6d.). 

The aim of this important book is set forth as being ^^to provide a 
foundation for a biological theory of the psycho-neuroses" (p. 119), which 
is a truly formidable undertaking. The task is approached from the stand- 
point of the war neuroses, and the conclusions are almost exclusively 
based on observation of these conditions, a circumstance which necessi- 
tates a few preliminary remarks. In spite of important individual differences, 
the autiior's attitude in this respect has much in common with that of 
three other well-known workers. Professors Brown, McDougall, Myers, 
and Rivers have undergone a similar experience in the past few years, 
with on the whole similar results. They are all eminent psychologists, 
with the additional advantage of possessing a medical qualification, 
whom the exigencies of a national crisis brought for the first time into 
psychopathological work. After establishing a demonstrably imperfect 
contact with the work previously done in this field, and after a varying 
amount of war experience, they consider themselves to be in a peculiarly 
favourable position to pass judgement on the various prevailing theories 
in psychopathology, and were in particular "enabled to test in detail 
the Freudian doctrine of psychoneurosis" (p. 4). Dr. Rivers speaks ot 
the "dispassionate study" carried out by "independent and unbiassed 
workers" "who were able to approach the subject without prejudice", 
and says that this study "had certain definite results" (pp. 4, 5). In his 
opinion these were to confirm certain parts of the psycho-analytical 
doctrine, notably the tendency to repress unpleasant memories, the im- 
portance of conflict, the continued action in harmful ways of buried 
material, and the relief given by bringing it again to consciousness, 
but to contradict the main part of that doctrine, that concerned with 
sex and with the mechanism of the unconscious proper. The study shewed 
that the pathology of war neurosis was a simple and easily solved matter 
(Dr. Rivers speaks of "the simplicity of the conditions upon which they 
depend", p. 5), so the firm knowledge thu^ gained could logically be 
used to constitute a basis for a theory of neuroses in general, and this 
is what is attempted in the present volume. 

Those whose life's work has been psychopathology, on the other 
hand, and especially those trained in psycho-analysis, take on the whole 

:3yt.:-^ ^.le ^IftjIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 


an opposite view of the matter. While agreeing that independent and 
unbiassed thought is of inestimable value in approaching the study of 
the unconscious mind, they do not consider that the mere wish to have 
it is tantamount to possession of it, and they find, on the contrary, that 
this valuable talent is one that needs an arduous cultivation, that fami- 
liarity with the workings of the unconscious mind is not to be obtained 
except by a painful overcoming of the (internal) obstacles in the way. 
In contradistinction from the view hinted at above, they consider that 
the problems of the war neuroses are much more obscure and complex, 
as well as far more difficult of access, than those of the peace ones; 
the narcissistic theory of the war neuroses, as put forward, for instance, 
by the reviewer, is not easily estimated by anyone who has not first 
penetrated through the relatively pliable transference neuroses to the 
more remote and enigmatical phenomena of narcissism. They further 
point to the non-typical and rare circumstances in which war neuroses 
arise, and to the absolute impossibility of making an adequate investi- 
gation ol them for purely extrinsic reasons. Now that the hurry and 
pressure of the war has disappeared the neuroses associated with it 
have largely lost their characteristics and approximate much more to 
the usual neuroses of peace. The fact that exceedingly few psycho-ana- 
lyses of war neuroses could be made, not one of which has been publi- 
shed, speaks for itself. To build a general theory of psychopatholog>', 
therefore, on what must necessarily be an imperfect investigation of an 
aberrant form of neurosis would not seem to be an undertaking 
fraught with promise. Nevertheless, in spite of what the reviewer 
regards as undeniable handicaps methodologically. Dr. Rivers has 
produced a work that is interesting, stimulating, and in many respects 

The book is made up of two parts. The first, and larger one, con- 
sists of nineteen lectures, delivered at Cambridge in 1919; the second 
part is an appendix of six addresses, mainly of an earlier date, three 
of them having specifically psycho-analytical titles. Perhaps it will be 
simplest for our purpose to consider separately the points of agree- 
ment and of disagreement with psycho-analysis. 

In general Dr. Riyers maintains the correctness of Freud's views on 
mental mechanism, on his general conception of the mind, on the im- 
portance of instinctive life, on conflict, repression, and the unconscious, 
though in many respects he would prefer a different formulation. He 
is to a great extent aware of the general importance of these views, 
as the following passages indicate: "It is possible, even probable, that 
the practical application of Freud's theory of the unconscious in the 
domain of medicine may come to be held as one of its least important 
aspects, and that it is in other branches of human activity that its im- 
portance will in future be greatest. I may perhaps mention here that 


-VOL. 1-16 


my own belief in the value of Freud's theory of the unconscious as a 
guide to the better understanding of human conduct is not so much 
based on my clinical experience as on general observation of human 
behaviour, on evidence provided by the experience of my friends, and 
most of all on the observation of my own mental activity, waking and 

sleeping (p. 160) Freud's theory of the unconscious should appeal 

to the physician in that it provides him with a definite working scheme 
of influences, which he has long known to be active in the causation 
of mental disorders and of the bodily disorders which are traceable to 

mental factors The great merit of Freud is that he has provided 

us with a theory of the mechanism by which this experience, not 
readily and directly accessible to consciousness, produces its effects, 
while he and his followers have devised clinical methods by which these 
hidden factors in the causation of disease may be brought to light. For 
the physician who is not content to walk in the old ruts when in the 
presence of the greatest afflictions which can befall mankind, Freud has 
provided a working scheme of diagnosis and therapeutics to aid him 
in his attempts to discover the causes of mental disorder and to find 
means by which it might be remedied. My own standpoint is that 
Freud's psychology of the unconscious provides a consistent working 
hypothesis to aid us in our attempts to discover the r61e of unconscious 
experience in the production of disease." (p. 168). His definitions ot 
the unconscious as "that experience which is not capable of being 
brought into the field of consciousness by any of the ordinary processes 
of memory or association" (p. 9), or, more pithily, as "the storehouse of 
experience associated with instinctive reactions" (p. 38), is quite psycho- 
analytical. This conception of the unconscious is defended at length 
(Appendix I), and the additional argument adduced that it is as legiti- 
mate as the concept of inherited instincts which represent a part o! 
ancestral experience: "If such unconscious elements derived from 
ancestral experience are by universal assent included within the scope 
of the mind, it is difficult to understand how it is possible to exclude 
unconscious experience acquired in the lifetime of the individual. It 
would be humorous, if it were not pathetic, that many of those who 
object most strongly to Freud's views concerning the r61e of unconscious 
individual experience in the production of abnormal bodily and mental 
states should be loudest in the appreciation of the part taken by that 
ancestral experience for which they use the term, too often the shibbo- 
leth, heredity" (p. 161). Though admitting that it is easier to conceive 
the content of the unconscious in terms of intellectual elements, he is 
very inclined to go further and acknowledge that it is also made up of 
affective and conative states, for it is evident that these also undergo 
repression (p. 36). He fully accepts the theory of repression as accounting 
for the facts of amnesia, including neutral associated material {p. 35), 




and is a thorough-going adherent of the cathartic therapeutic procedure 
(Appendix HI). 

In spite of these and other numerous points of agreement, however, 
Dr. Rivers diverges in important respects from the Freudian theory, 
especially of the neuroses. On the one hand he denies the importance 
of the part played by the sexual instinct in that theory, and on the 
other he adopts a rather different formulation of the pathology of the 
neuroses. One can say nothing about the former point, for it is presented 
in the simple manner of an ipse dixit The study of war neuroses shewed 
"that in the vast majority of cases there is no reason to suppose that 
factors derived from the sexual life played any essential part in causation 
but that these disorders became explicable as the result of disturbance 
of another instinct, one even more fundamental than that of sex — the 
instinct of self-preservation" (p. 5), while "we have abundant evidence 
that those forms of paralysis and contracture, phobia and obsession, 
which result from suppressed (sic) sexual tendencies, occur freely in 
persons whose sexual life seems to be wholly normal and common- 
place*' (p. 165). The fallacy here is evidently the assumption that the 
psychosexual life, especially in its unconscious aspects, is a matter that 
lends itself to ready observation. Dr. Rivers allows himself to say that 
the sexual part of the Freudian theory, so far from being an integral 
part, is merely "an unfortunate excrescence, probably due in large 
measure to the social environment in which the theory had its origin" 
(p. 164); we would commend to his notice the reasons given by Pro- 
fessor Freud for stigmatizing this view as "ganz besonders unsinnig" 
(Jahrbuch der Psyckdanalyse^ Band VI, S. 235). The dislike of sexuality 
enables this otherwise suave and courteous writer to say that the writings 
of his co-workers "might often be taken for contributions to porno- 
graphy" (p. 163). Even stronger remarks are made about the supposed 
extravagance of various hypothetical followers of Freud (pp. 159, 160, 163), 
whom we often hear of in the writings of opponents, but never find 
mentioned by name. 

Dr. Rivers* own formulation of the biology of the neuroses is to a 
large extent founded on Head's theory of sensibility, the devastating 
effect of Trotter and Davies* researches on this theory being ignored. 
Using the parallel of Head's distinction between "protopathic" and 
"epicritic" sensations, and largely influenced by the Lucas-Adrian concept 
of the "all-or-none" principle, he divides instinctive behaviour into two 
classes, the marks of the more primitive being : "firstly, the absence of 
exactness of discrimination, of appreciation and of graduation of response; 
secondly, the character of reacting to conditions with all the energy 
available ; and thirdly, the immediate and uncontrolled character of the 
response" (p. 48). This class is normally under the control of the other 
class, which has opposite characteristics, and when ^this control fails to 


be maintained there result all the phenomena ascribed by Freud to 
intrapsychical conflict Instincts themselves are grouped imder three 
headings : "those of self-preser\'ation ; those which subserve the con- 
tinuance of the race; and those which maintain the cohesion of the 
group (herd instinct)" (p. 52); in practice Dr, Rivers deals with none 
throughout the book except the first of these three groups, and, indeed, 
with only one of these — the danger instinct. The book may be des- 
cribed as an attempt to correlate the theory obtained by applying 
this psychology (which in a review can be only indicated) to the war 
neuroses with the doctrines of psycho-analysis. 

The resulting compound is not very easy to appreciate clearly, and, 
as it would seem to us, Dr. Rivers has unnecessarily added to the diffi- 
culty and to the risks of confusion in the following way. It is well known 
that the task of apprehending the new concepts introduced by Freud 
has been materially increased by giving the terms invented to denote 
these concepts a foreign meaning from his, and then thoroughly con- 
fusing the reader by using them indiscriminately at different times; 
Jung's procedure with the terms "Libido" and "symbol" is perhaps the 
most flagrant instance. Dr. Rivers is guilty of this unscientific behaviour 
on a considerable scale. He re-christens the anxiety neurosis "repression 
neurosis" (p. 124), proposes first "suggestion neurosis" (why not pithiatism 
at once ?) (p. 223) and then "Substitution neurosis" (p. 127) for what he 
calls "Freud's conversion neurosis" (which in a future edition should be 
corrected to "conversion-hysteria"), he robs the term "sublimation" of 
its sexual connotation (p. 156), and he uses the term "regression" 
throughout as equivalent to "reversion" (Ch. XVIII). On the other hand 
he rightly admonishes Hart for making the word "complex" equivalent 
to "sentiment" and thus depriving it of its valuable specific meaning 
(p. 88). But the most troublesome of these essays in novel nomenclature 
occurs over the word "repression", which hitherto has invariably been 
the technical term used to express the German Verdrdngung, It covers 
all processes characterised by the striving to keep painful mental pro- 
cesses (or others associated with such) from consciousness, irrespective 
of whether they have ever been in consciousness or not It may prove 
that the distinction between the two classes included under this name 
will one day turn out to be of interest, in which event we shall need 
separate terms for them, but up to the present the features common 
to both have been of overwhelmingly greater interest and importance 
than any differences between them, so that psycho-analysts have been 
content to use the same term for both, Freud writes, for instance 
(Vierte Sammlung der Neurosenlehrc, S. 287): "The general fate o! 
die idea representing the impulse can hardly be other than that it 
disappears from consciousness if it has previously been conscious, or is 
kept back from consciousness when it was about to become conscious. 

3y Google 

Original from 


The difference is not an important one; it comes to much the same 
thing whether I show an undesirable guest out of my room, or out of 
my ante-room, or whether as soon as I have recognised him I refuse him 
admission over the threshold of my entrance door'*. On the rare occasions 
when Freud has wished to draw a distinction between various processes 
of this sort he has done so by using the words Urverdrdngting, Ver- 
drdngungf and Nackverdrdngung. To Dr. Rivers, however, the distinction 
appears of great importance, but instead of adopting the correct pro- 
cedure of adding qualifying adjectives before a term that is well- 
established and universally accepted, he introduces the confusion of con- 
fining the word "repression" to the much less important class of witting 
exclusion from consciousness, and uses the term ^^suppression", a word 
that hitherto has been used only in its general sense in psycho-analytical 
literature, for the vast majority of cases usually denoted by the word 
'depression". Since Dr. Rivers can hardly hope to displace such a 
firmly established technical term, we cannot understand his objects 
we see only his result, namely, necessary confusion in the mind ol 
readers. In his opinion there are the following important differences 
between the two processes (pp. 17, 121, 124, 126, 185): Conscious 
repression (Rivers' "Repression") belongs to the order of intelligence, 
unconscious repression (River's "suppression") to the order of instinct; 
the former process is more abnormal than the latter, magnifies the conflict 
and leads to anxiety neurosis; tliis means the "failure in the adult 
of a process which takes place naturally and without any special 
conflict in childhood". The last remark indicates the usual lack of 
familiarity with what goes on in the depths of a child's mind. 

Dr. Rivers' own formulation of the theory' of neurosis is not so un- 
like the Freudian one : neurosis means "a failure in the maintainancc of the 
state of equilibrium between instinctive tendencies and the forces by 
which they are controlled" (p. 119). This may be produced in two ways, 
by an increase in the strength of the former tendencies or by a dimi- 
nution in the latter, and Dn Rivers considers that the immediate factor 
is usually the latter (due to strain, fatigue, etc?j. When, however, it 
comes to the application of these principles we see at once the difference 
between the observer and the theorist. While Professor Freud investi- 
gates in detail the actual tendencies that are repressed, and tries to find 
out what is the nature of the conflict, Dr. Rivers assumes that they are 
simply older and cruder instincts that arc now no longer biologically 
valuable, and hence are inhibited. Therefore, although there is much 
mention of the word "conflict", we find hardly any examples of the 
kind familiar to us in analytic work, where the conflict really is a con- 
flict To him neurotic symptoms are very much in the nature of an 
atavism, a reversion to an older mode of defence against danger. Thus 
he suggests that hysterical paralyses represent the immobility of the 
VOL. 1-16* ■3y^^^>*^>gi^^ UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 


fear instinct, and even that tremors, etc.^ represent the uncontrolled action 
of some muscles when that of others is suppressed by the same mecha- 
nism (p. 130). Anxiety neurosis and hysteria both result from the abro- 
gation of the inhibiting factors of intelligence, the former setting free 
fear to act, and the latter the principle of suggestion (p. 131). He thinks 
there is no dissociation present in hysteria, a conclusion only reached 
by giving the term "dissociation** the arbitrary meaning of a secondary- 
consciousness. "Hysteria is primarily due to the activity of a danger- 
instinct, to the coming into action of an instinct whose primary function 
is protection from danger** (p. 135). If only Dr. Rivers were to reflect 
on the nature of internal dangers, instead of thinking mainly of gross 
external dangers to life, etc., he would probably make this conception 
a more fruitful one than it now appears to be. He feels, it is true, that his 
formula is in need of extension, and this leads to the following dis- 
quisition. "We have to discover why hysteria should be so frequent in 
women, and so rare in men, under the ordinary conditions of civil life. 
I have already mentioned the rarity of severe demand on the danger- 
instincts in the ordinary routine of our modem civilisation. In so doing 
I see now that I was thinking only of the male element in the population. 
Women are always liable to dangers in connection with childbirth to 
which men are not exposed, while the danger-element, real or imagi- 
nary, is more pronounced in them than in the male in connection with 
coitus. That the greater prominence of danger with the consequent 
tendency to awaken fear should be potentially present in connection 
with the normal functions of women seems to afford a definite motive 
for the more frequent occurrence in them of a form of neurosis which, 
according to the view here put forward, is due to the occurrence, 
though in modified form, of a definite mode of reaction to danger" 
(p. 136). 

To sum up, the book is a notable attempt to correlate the principles 
of biology, physiology, psychology, and psycho-analysis in relation to 
the problems of the neuroses. Regarded as a preliminary sketch it is 
undoubtedly stimulating. But the author's imperfect acquaintance with 
many of the problems in the field of psychopathology should have led 
him to state his conclusions in a much more tentative manner. Dr. Rivers 
has won distinction in the fields of physiology, psychology, and ethno- 
logy; will he in those of psychopathology and psycho-analysis? Only it 
he proceeds as he did in the other fields of study, by beginning at the 
beginning and not at the end, E. J. 

Psychoanalysis: its History, Theory, and Practice. By Andri Tridon, 

(Kegan Paul, Trench, TrubnerA Co. Ltd., London. Pp.258. Price 10s. 6d). 

r I . .....ijinal from 



The author bcpns with an historical account of the development of 
psycho-analysis, and we would suggest that the following corrections 
be inserted in the next edition of his book. Freud was not lecturing on 
psycho-analysis in 1895, nor did Sadger, Adler, and Stekel join him in 
that year, but some seven or eight years later; also the Swiss interest 
in his work dates from 1903, not 1900. It is not true that "many members 
of the Swiss school (by which the author means the followers of Jung) 
were clergymen": only two clergymen in Switzerland have displayed a serious 
interest in psycho-analysis; that of Pfarrer Keller was only a fleeting one, 
while Pfarrer Pfister is an adherent of Freud, not of Jung. Nor is it 
true that "psycho-analysis found ready acceptance in Austria, Germany, 
and England", as those practising it know well, for even now they are 
in a minority of one to five million. The subject was not introduced 
into Holland by Jelgcrsma, whose interest in it dates from 1914, not 
1904 as stated, but by van Emden, van Ophuijsen, and Starcke, whose 
interest in it has not been "particularly on the theoretical side", for 
they are all experienced practitioners. The present reviewer would not 
feel justified, merely because he spent four years in Canada, to put 
forward the claim to be called an "American analyst"; and to name only 
White, Jelliff'e, and Kempf as the leading analysts in the United States 
is doing an obvious injustice to Dr. Brill, who has done more than 
anyone else in that country to develop the knowledge of psycho-analysis. 

The object of the book is to convey a knowledge of psycho-analysis 
to an audience ignorant of the subject, and is therefore avowedly popular. 
The author sees no important differences between the views of Freud, 
Adler, and Jung, but considers that they supplement and reinforce one 
another, a position which at once indicates his state of knowledge of 
the subject, for, whichever of the three views is the more in accord 
with the evidence, there can be no question of their mutual incompatibility. 

The book is written in a loose, discursive, careless fashion, and reads 
rather like a piece of "chatty" journalism. It is full of mis-statements 
and inaccuracies, which are far too numerous for us to be able to 
contemplate the task of pointing them out seriatim. We can only say 
that the book gives a highly misleading account of psycho-analysis, and 
is in no way to be recommended. It is a pity that it should compete 
with the excellent books written with the same object, such as, e. g., 
that by Barbara Low. E. J. 

The Erotic Motive in LrrERATURE. By Albert Mordell, (Kegan Paul, 
Trench, Trubner, 4 Co. Ltd., London, 1919. Pp, 250. Price 10s.). 

The book gives more to the reader than the title seems to promise, at 
least in one respect: it does not content itself wiil;i JbUo'^^mg^ up the use 


made of erotic motives in literature, but points out their existence even 
there where they do not come to the surface — in short, the book 
has been written entirely from a psycho-analytical point of view. 

The author consequently resorts to the means so successfully employed 
by Freud in his "Traumdeutung", in order to demonstrate the un- 
conscious contents of artistically formed fantasies. By this course he 
arrives at a principle of the utmost importance, the strict determination 
of poetic production. He maintains his points by referring to material 
which is rich, well chosen and thoroughly mastered; he proves that even 
scientific works such as Renan's "Life of Jesus*' as well as the original, 
apparently arbitrary and fantastical works of E. A. Poe are nothing 
else but the strict consequence of the author's disposition to certain 
impulses and experiences. 

In one respect this meritorious book cannot be wholly absolved 
from the reproach of contradiction. Although the author theoretically 
keeps strictly to Freud's point of view, that the impressions of childhood, 
especially those connected with the (Edipus Complex, are decisive for 
the fancies underlying and determining the later erotic life, he shifts 
in his detailed researches the chief accent on to the actual erotic ex- 
periences of the adult. And yet it is the intrinsic psycho-literary work 
of the psycho-analyst to make the actual erotic life the stepping-stone 
to the recovering of the impressions of childhood. 

Finally one. must enter a protest against a certain strain of arrogance 
which the author assumes towards men like Spinoza, Schopenhauer and 
Goethe who — not having arrivied at the height of his psycho-analytically 
trained understanding — seem somehow to be fallen into error. It is 
just Psycho- Analysis which (Might to teach us respect for the workings 
of the unconscious and humility in considering the impotence of our 
knowledge in the struggle with our affects. Hanns Sachs. 

The New Psychology and its Relation to Life. By A. G. Tansley. 
F. R. S., (George Allen and Unwin, Ltd., London, 1920. Pp. 283. Price 
10s. 6d). 

This book, which has rapidly won a deserv ed popularity, is an attempt 
to present to the public the conclusions of recent trends in psychology, 
especially from the point of view of the practical bearings of them on 
life. The author, a distinguished biologist of Cambridge, pretends to no 
expert knowledge in psychology, but shows evidence of a keen intere'^t 
and wide reading in the subject 

The new psychology referred to in the title means the work done 
of late years through the biological and clinical modes of approach. 
Its twin bases are, as is clearly seen by the author, the importance to 



psychology of the instincts and ol the unconscious. The writers mainly 
quoted by the author are Freud, Jung, Trotter, Hart, and McDougall, 
and curious results sometimes issue from the admixture. A few comments 
will be made here from the psycho-analytical side only. 

The division into consciousness, preconscious and unconscious is 
accepted, but a distinction is made between a so-called "primary un- 
conscious" (the nature of which is not further described, but which 
presumably refers to inborn tendencies) and the "Freudian unconscious", 
which the author calls the "secondary unconscious". It is possible that 
there may be a distinction between the repressed unconscious and such 
tendencies, but it is probably not so sharp as the author imagines. He 
is evidently under the misapprehension of thinking that the Freudian 
unconscious is mainly superficial, consisting of thoughts previously in 
consciousness (pp. 43, 44, 48) ; the reverse is the case. It is unfortunate 
that the author adopts Hart's use of the word complex, repudiated by 
nearly all other writers as being both confusing and an unnecessary sub- 
stitute for the words constellation and sentiment (in the sense of British 
psychologists); it is much more useful, as Rivers and others have in- 
sisted, to keep the word in the sense given it by Jung. Similarly the 
accepted meaning of the word Libido, a word that cannot be divested from 
its sexual connotations, is discarded in favour of "psychic energy attached 
to a complex" (which the author distinguishes from Jung's use of the 
word as meaning psychic energy in general). Again, sublimation is 
defined in a new sense as the displacement of energy from any primitive 
instinct, thus depriving it of the exact sense indicated by Freud when 
he introduced the word. Critics are always alluding to the difficulty of 
knowing what psycho-analysts mean by their terms, but the present is 
only one instance of the source of the difficulty and confusion arising 
mainly outside psycho-analysis by the unnecessary distortion of specific 

Although tM'o chapters are devoted to sex the subject is skated over 
very carefully, as perhaps might be expected in a work of this class. 
No reference is made to the Partial Impulses, without a knowledge of 
which one cannot go very far in the subject. The parental complexes 
are fairly dealt with. A gross mistake is made (p. 85) in the sentence: 
"The Freudian school holds that all the primitive psychic energy of a 
child is sex energy in a wide sense". How many times must this be 
corrected? No member of that school has ever held such a fantastic 
view, one incompatible with all the conclusions of psycho-analysis. 

On the matter of sex morality we read that "The only way to extirpate 
venereal disease and substantially to reduce prostitution would seem 
to be first to take drastic and universal sanitary action, to give women 
an independent economic status, and then to do away with the 
illicit character of extramarital sexual intercourse. The alternative of what 


is called 'raising the standard of men's sexual morality* would seem a 
chimerical means of escape from the existing situation, because it runs 
counter to fundamental facts of sex psychology**. 

Leaving, however, individual passages, we can say that the book as 
a whole is a very valuable and interesting presentation of the most 
modern trends in psychology-. It would be difficult to rival it as an in- 
troduction to either psychology in general, or clinical psychology m 
particular. The point of view adopted is throughout modem, deter- 
ministic, empiric, and dynamic. Though written for the educated public 
at large, it could be read with much profit by any medical man, socio- 
logist, or anyone who desires to be informed as to what is vital m 
present-day psychology'. E. J. 


Thk Psychology OF Dreams. By William S.Walsh, M. D. (Kegan 
Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. Ltd., I^ndon. Pp. 361. Price 12s. 6d). 

The author describes his book as being written "with the interests 
of the general reader particularly in mind'*, and also as designed to 
be "as practical as possible**, which may in part account for a somewhat 
strange mixture to be found in the work. There is an attempt at scien- 
tific explanation (of a very "popular** kind) of the Theory of Dreams, 
mingled with all kinds of ethical precepts, moral reflection, exhortation, 
and homely advice. The result is hardly satisfactory, and certainly 
docs not tend to give the reader any clear notion of the many problems 
relating to dreams with which the book purports to deal. The author*s 
own theory is not easy to grasp: he appears to subscribe in part to 
Freud*s theory of the Unconscious, but objects to so much that is 
vital in this theory {e. ^. the sexual basis in the Unconscious, the dream 
as wish-fulfilment, the primitive non-moral nature of the Unconscious) 
that it is impossible to find out his own position, or indeed, if he has 
any definite standpoint at all. One thing is clear: he imports into the 
Unconscious all manner of moralities and ethical considerations which 
certainly have no connection with any psycho-analytical theory. 

The book, perhaps, might be of interest to some readers, inasmuch 
as it ranges over a great many topics — "The Mind in Sleep", "The 
Material of Dreams*', "Dreams as Wishes**, "Nightmare**, "Day-Dreams* \ 
to select a few — touching slightly on each, but it is useless to pretend 
that it offers anything in the way of serious contribution to these problems, 
and at times there are statements of great inaccuracy. An illustration 
of this is to be found in the chapter on "Morahty in Dreams", and 
another m "The Analysis of Dreams". In the latter w^e are given a most 
extraordinary account of the process in analytic treatment (pp. 274, 275), 
of which it can only be said that possibly this is the method by which 
Dr. Walsh conducts the treatment, but it certainly is not that of any 



psycho-analyst. The latter will be interested to hear that "when the 
whole dream has been analysed, the psycho-analyst decides Just which 
experiences of the patient's life, as revealed by the analysis, are respon- 
sible for the present ills. He may reach a conclusion after the study 
of one dream (I): more often the analysis of several dreams is required, 
When he discovers the cause of the patient's nervousness, he explains 
this to him", and so on. 

The author's views on matters in general are often strangely elementary 
and naive, and he treats his reader rather as if he were a schoolmaster 
directing and instructing his pupil. On every possible occasion he breaks 
into a dissertation on morals, as, for example, when dealing with 
sexual dreams (which he describes as "approaching more closely 
the immoral"), where he leaves the scientific aspect untouched and 
gives instead a page on "wild oats", deprecating the evil teaching which 
condones such things, and concluding his thesis with this charming sim- 
plicity: "even though an individual's sex-instincts should be strong, these 
can be removed or side-tracked, their energies being used up in sui- 
able ways. Should the individual feel that he is unable to do this for 
himself, a competent medical psychologist will direct him". 

One perceives how easy it is! But perhaps enough has been said 
to show that this book has really nothing to do with Psycho-Analysis, 
and hardly with any known psychology-. Barbara Low. 


CHILDREN'S Dreams. By C. \V. Kimmins, M.A., D.Sc. (Longmans, 
(ircen & Co., London. Pp. 361, Price 5s. net). 

There can be no doubt that in the near future psycho-analytic research 
will employ itself to a large and ever larger extent over educational 
problems, from which research we may look forward to the establish- 
ment of some valid educational principles, so sorely needed in present- 
day education. Freud, with others who have followed up his work, has 
emphasized the value of the analyst-educator, who will be able to get 
into closer contact, perhaps, with the child-mind than anyone else can, 
and has indicated how valuable such an educator's work may be if he 
has the requisite knowledge for study of the Unconscious. Since he has 
shown us "the royal road to the Unconscious", in the shape of the 
dream, it behoves the educator to take cognizance of the child's dreams 
and to acquire, if possible, some understanding of them. 

For this purpose, the volume of "Childrens Dreams" compiled by 
Dr. Kimmins, is of value to the analyst who may not have opportunity 
to make any wide collection for himself, but yet desires as much first- 
hand material as possible. Here we have a large number of recorded 
dreams dealt with (more than five thousand, in all) collected from children 
of both sexes, of various types, belonging to different social spheres, of ages 

:3y t^:i^ 

%i I 1 1 " _ 1 1 1 



ranpng trom five to eighteen years. Many types of school have been 
drawn upon, such as infant schools, ordinary elementary schools, central 
schools, secondary schools, industrial schools, and schools for the blind 
and deaf. So far, no such extensive dream-material has been available, 
but it should now be possible for psycho-analytic research to obtain 
some important results from the data provided in this book, especially 
in reference to such interesting questions, among many others, as the 
relation between the dream content and the dreamer's environment, social 
traditions, and culture; the comparison between dreams belonging to 
successive stages of childhood and adolescence; the resemblances and 
differences to be noted in dreams of children belonging to different 
social spheres, and so on. 

From this point of view the book is certainly a contribution for 
which those engaged in such research will be grateful to the author. 
Unfortunately, the value of the work is greatly depreciated owing to 
the misleading and inaccurate statements concerning the significance of 
the dreams, their import, their relation to waking life, etc., which 
Dr. Kimmins introduces in every chapter. It is obvious that he has not 
yet adequately realized Freud's Theory of Dreams, yet he is not content 
to present his collection and leave it to be handled by the expert in 
psycho-analytic theory, which would have been the wise and useful 
course to pursue. Throughout the book, beginning with an extraordinary 
classification of dreams in the Introduction, there is complete confusion 
bctvk^een the Manifest and Latent Dream-Content, resulting in meaning- 
less interpretations of the dream-examples, and all kinds of invalid de- 
ductions. One or tv^o illustrations must suffice. 

Referring to air-raid dreams, which occur frequently in the collection 
(it was made during the period 1918 — 1919), Dr. Kimmins informs us 
(p. 25) : "Air-raid dreams are of no special interest ; they are mainly a 
description of raids in which the dreamer was an observer**. He seems 
not to have grasped the idea of dream-symbolism, nor to have realized 
that the dream which deals, in the manifest content, with some tempo- 
rary terror-inspiring phenomenon of environment, has its roots in un- 
conscious fears and wishes as much as any other kind of dream. Every 
dream is of "special interest", moreover, in that it reveals the uncon- 
scious; finally the statement "the dreamer was an observer", is superficial 
and directed only to manifest content, since the dreamer is never merely 
the obsener, but always plays the chief r61e in the dream though in 
disguised form, maybe. 

In another place (p. 56) we are told: "Anything in the nature of 
sentiment between members of the opposite sex is very rarely found 
in the dreams of children from eight to fourteen years of age'* .... 
a statement too absurd to need any comment for those who have any 
knowledge of the Unconscious. Original from 



In reference to the dreams of children in Industrial Schools, we 
read (p. 95): "The family-group take comparatively little part in the 
dreams, their place being taken by the boy's chum, and the girl's parti- 
cular friend" — again an explanation which has regard only to the 
manifest content, and seeks no further. 

In the same way, practically every dream is "explained", and, further, 
many sweeping assertions without any apparent justification are scattered 
throughout the book. For example: "The definition of a dream as a 
fulfilled wish would serve no useful purpose" (p. 20); "The dream 
of the university professor is very different from that of the casual 
labourer" (p. 28); "The child who dreams frequently about food may 
reasonably be assumed to be an imderfed child" (p. 45); "The content 
of the unconscious (of the Industrial School child) is far richer than that 
of the normal child who has led an uneventful and fully protected 
existence" (p. 103). 

One is doubtful whether Dr. Kimmins could at all substantiate the 
above statements, and certainly psycho-analytic findings do not bear them 
out. In his concluding chapter, entitled "Educational Value of the Dream", 
the author very rightly impresses on his readers the desirability of 
knowledge on this subject. He writes: "There are many important 
problems which appear to open up great possibilities in the child's 
dream as an object of research . , . the dream as the best means of 
investigating the unconscious must play a very important r6le in the 
educational developments of the future" (p. 121). 

Every psycho-analyst will heartily agree, but let it be borne in 
mind that the investigator must have sufficient technical equipment to 
make the research bear fruit, to produce good rather than evil (because 
misleading) results. Barbara Low. 

Studies in Dreams. By Mrs. H. O. Arnold-Foster. (George Allen * 
I'nwin Ltd., London. Pp. 178. Price 8s. 6d.). 

This book, as the author very frankly tells us in her Preface, is in 
no sense a scientific work, nor, we may add, psychological, but it has 
interest as a "layman's'' ideas about, and observations concerning, her 
own personal experiences in dreaming. 

Further, it interests from another aspect, namely, the proof it gives (as 
such a multitude of books and articles appearing to-day) of the wide-spread 
effect of the discoveries of Freud and others, even if much in those 
discoveries is but little understood. There are advantages and disad- 
vantages in the fact of a much-extended interest in dreams and dream- 
life: it is to the good that human beings should begin to take cogni- 
zance of something more in their psychic existence than the conscious- 
ness which they have been accustomed to regard, hitherto, as the only 
factor, and should become capable of paying respect to thi^t vital cle- 



mcnt — the Unconscious. There is a disadvantage in superficial deductions 
based on partially understood observations, especially if these obtain the 
sanction of scientific patronage. 

As for Mrs. Arnold-Foster's own observations about her dreaming, 
they are often very interesting, and she provides plenty of material, 
dealing with such matters as Dream-Figures, Dream-Recording, Dream- 
Places, Dream-Control. This last subject — Dream-Control — is, perhaps, 
the one with which the author has most usefully occupied herself. She 
deals with the possibility of cultivating and continuing certain pleasurable 
types of dreams by the exercise of conscious suggestion — a very useful 
enquir>' concerning which Httle, so far, has been written; she does not, 
however, seem to realize that it is by no means a like proposition to 
attempt or desire, to prevent "bad** and unpleasing dreams. She lightly 
dismisses tlie idea that this helps further to repress the unconscious and 
tells us (p. 63) "there will probably be a majority of people who would 
jjladly make the exchange that I have suggested, and rid themselves of 
their bad dreams, even if these be fraught with possible instruction, in 
return for a dream-life peaceful and unsullied in which the adven- 
tures of the imagination are carried on without fear of any ugly or 
terrifying interruption." 

Most probably ! Freud has shown us that mankind instinctively seeks 
to live by the pleasure-principle rather than by the reality-principle, 
which is all the more reason for trying to discover and comprehend 
reality when we can, rather than to evade it. 

It seems unlikely that Mrs. Arnold-Foster, who writes with attractive 
modesty and frankness in her Preface, would subscribe to the statement 
of Dr. Morton Prince in his Foreword, which tells us: "Mrs. Arnold- 
Foster, is a student of Freud and his followers and thoroughly grounded 
in the Freudian literature*', etc.^ since obviously she has not at all realized 
much which is fundamental in Freud's work. It is a pity she has allowed 
herself to comment upon, and criticize, what she does not understand, 
for this goes far to spoil the book. 

Such a remark as: "he (/. e, Freud) sees sex-impulse (p. 37) alone 
amongst them (/. e. all other powerful desires and impulses which 
actuate our waking lives) as the force which is able to affect the dream 
mind**, is simply untrue and there is no excuse whatever for making 
it, above all if the author be (as we have it on the authority of Dr. Morton 
Prince) "thoroughly grounded in Freudian literature'*. Again, on page 46 
we read: "The fact is there are dreams and dreams, and we must get 
rid of the assumption that they all resemble each other'*. The comment 
on which is that no one with a modicum of sense, even without being 
well-versed in Freudian literature, still less if so versed, ever held any 
such assumption. The chapters on "Symbolism in Dreams'* (Ch, VU), 
"Dream ConstrucUpn*' (Ch. IX), and "Moral Se,i?,gp,.j];i Pf-j^ams*' (Ch. XIV) 


are full of strange statements, which show often a quite complete mis- 
conception of Dream-Psychology. 

It can hardly be said that she adopts the attitude of a "mere student" 
(p, 114) in spite of referring to herself as such more than once. One 
reads with astonishment in the Introductory (p. 38) that "The principles 
laid down by Freud have profoundly altered the conceptions of this 
generation. They have been so unhesitatingly accepted that anyone who 
should question their universal applicability would find himself in a 
small minority' \ etc. 

If Mrs. Arnold-Foster really believes this, she is living in a world of 
illusion with a vengeance ! It is nearer the mark to say that the majority' 
of those who know anything of Freud's work take up something of her 
own attitude — which is a very long way from acceptance or even com- 
prehension. Barbara Low. 

Psychology and Folk-Lore. By R. R. Marett, Reader in Social Anthro- 
pology in Oxford. (Methuen & Co. London, 1920. Pp. 275. Price 7s. 6d.) 

The workers on Social Anthropology in Great Britain have from the 
beginning tended to fall into two groups, fathered by Tylor and Gomme 
respectively. At first they were distinguished under the names of the 
evolutionary and historical schools, but lately the latter have preferred 
to call themselves ethnologists and their rivals anthropologists; in the 
latter camp are Frazer, Hartland, and Marett, in the other Rivers and 
Elliot Smith. The original difference was over the relative importance 
of the process of diffusion of customs, etc, and of parallel invention. 
The ethnologists maintain that the chief difference now is one of method, 
but Marett shows here, convincingly, as we think, that it is primarily 
one of interest. The ethnological method of study is to investigate the 
social settings and historical origin of the given rite or custom, post- 
poning, rather indefinitely, the problems of psychical meaning. Their 
interest is essentially sociological, that of the other school psychological. 
There is no doubt about which line of work has the greater interest to 
the psycho-analyst. For him the problems of psychological meaning arc 
of primary importance, and even when it can be shown that a given 
custom has been historically transmitted from one nation to another 
this bald fact only raises for him the more interesting question of how 
the second nation came to select and assimilate just this particular 
custom rather than another, /. e. what was there already present in them 
that led them to give the custom meaning. The difference reminds one 
of the schools of psychopathology, the one displaying a rapturous in- 
terest in the discovery that a symptom in an hysterical patient has been 
acquired by imitation, the other regarding it as merely the starting-point 
of their investigation. 

This book is a reprint of two reviews of Fra^Fj|irl:;^$il^,-n and nine 



addresses, the first of which bears the title of the book. One of the main 
themes rumiing through most of them is the insistence on the psycho- 
logical point of view in the study of folk-lore. The author maintains that 
the survivals that form so large a part of the material there studied are no 
dead relics, mechanically left over for some external reason, but re- 
present living activities with a still present meaning, though this needs by 
no means be the original one. •^The fossil-hunter tends to overlook the 
permanent forces at work in the minds to which such lore appeals ... 
Survivals being defined as habits of society that have in part lost their 
significance for those that retain them, it follows that in the case of an 
alleged survival loss of meaning, and not merely lack of meaning, must 
be proved. Modem psychology, however, extending the doctrine of the 
unconscious to the mentality of the group, recognizes that impulses 
devoid of meaning in the sense of rational justification may nevertheless 
exert a secret mastery over thought and conduct. Thus lack of meaning 
may be due to quite another cause than a process of disuse requiring^ 
a historical explanation", "Survivals in folk-lore are no mere wreckage 
of the past, but are likewise symptomatic of those tendencies of our comm<>n 
human nature which have the best chance of surviving in the long run*. 

Although the author thus breaks a lance in favour of the application 
of psychotogy to folk-lore it is evident that, probably from a lack of 
adequate psychological knowledge, he is hardly in a position to make 
the application himself, nor does he seem to be aware of the extent to 
which this has already been done. Psycho-analysis is not mentioned in 
the volume, and Freud's name only once. Nor do we imagine that he 
would be likely to be sympathetic to psycho-analytic work were he to 
become more closely acquainted with it, judging from his opposition to 
the principle of determinism, his belief in "the self-active power of the 
soul", and his defence of theology and philosophy against naturalism. 
Since reading this book we have seen in the Athenaeum a review ot 
"Totem and Taboo" which is presumably by Mr. Marett. In it he makes 
the curious observation that if one takes away the (Edipus complex 
the light thrown by Freud on the previously obscure problems of totemism 
disappears, without drawing the obvious consequence from this. 

The contents of the book range over many topics, from the relation of war 
to savagery to the relation of magic to religion, and is very well worth 
reading by the psycho-analyst, who will find in it many interesting 
suggestions and much valuable material. In our opinion the two most useful 
chapters are those on the psychology of culture-contact and the interpretation 
of survivals, though that on the primitive medicineman is also of special 
interest to medical practitioners. In the lastmentioned chapter there is, by 
the way, a footnote where it is remarked that the Kikuyu term for con- 
fession is derived from a word meaning „to vomit", so that the Breuer- 
Freud concept "catharsis" had been anticipated m Fast Afri E. J. 



Psychical Surgkry. A brief Synopsis of the Analytical Method in the 
Treatment of mental and Psychical Disturbances. By Joseph Ralph, (Ralph 
Los Angelos, California, 1920 Pp. 77.). 

This little brochure gives a popular and brief, but clear and correct 
account of the aim, practice and theory of the psycho-analytic method 
The author has gone a long way in the understanding of psycho-analysis 
The brochure was evidently written for purposes of propaganda and 
will doubtless succeed in its aim. We note one historical error : Breuer 
comes from Vienna, not Zurich (pp. 48, 49), being probably confounded 
with Bleuler. E. J. 

The PsYaioLOGY of Functional Neuroses. By H. L. Hollingworth, 
(Applcton A Co. New York and London. Pp. 259. Price S 2.00 or 10s. 6d.). 

There is a novelty in the plan of this book which arrests one's 
attention. Instead of attacking the problems of the neuroses by means 
of direct study of individual cases and individual symptoms, the author, 
who is a professional psychologist, has approached the subject in quite 
another way. His essential method is to apply a series of standard 
laboratory tests to a very large number of cases with the aim of ascer- 
taining what generalisations may issue therefrom. 

He begins by giving a very cursory review of the medical work 
in this field, his attitude towards which is decidedly superior and dis- 
paraging. In searching for a central concept that may serve to unify the 
various data, he rapidly disposes of such ideas as are implied in the 
terms of "dissociation**, "fixation**, "conversion**, "general suggestibility*', 
"conditioned reaction", "pithiatism**, "symbolism** and so on ; the only 
one to which he gives even a conditional consideration is "regression**. 
Incidentally he quotes some interesting passages from Herbart's Text- 
book of Psychology, containing several anticipations of the Freudian con- 
ceptions, such as the rivalry of mental elements, the suppression of the 
weaker by the dominant, persistance of the suppressed element below 
the »!ireshold of consciousness, its transformation in the effort to express 
Itself, distinction between the conscious and the unconscious mind, and 
so on; the main difference here is that Herbart operated in terms of 
ideas, and not of those of more dynamic elements. It is historically 
untrue, however, to say that these conceptions were "adopted bodily*' 
by Freud from Herbart (p. 10). It may be imagined that the author will 
have nothing to say to Psycho-Analysis, He dismisses what he calls "this 
extravagant and analogical machinery" in the following words : "The in- 
tricate mazes, transformations, and epicycles of the psychoanalytic dogma 
in its present form resemble the familiar Ptolemaic astronomy, which 
waited long for a simple formulation that would place the observed facts 

on a basis of actual understanding" (p. 150). ^ , . , , 

i iTfc^ iJi^ Original fnom 



The author finds his unifing concept in Hamilton's term redinte- 
gration, though he somewhat modifies the sense of this, defining it thus : 
^'Redintegration is to be conceived as that type of process in which a 
part of a complex provokes the complete reaction that was previously 
made to the complex stimulus as a whole" (p. 19). Thus when a child 
has been frightened by a complex stimulation emanating from a dog, 
the entire fright reaction may subsequently be evoked by one part alone 
of the stimulus, e. g. a growl, even though this emanates from a 
parent hiding behind the door. He then discusses four types of faulty 
redintegration, those characteristics of the hypomanic, the feeble-minded, 
dementia praecox and the psychoneurotic respectively. The distinguishing 
feature of the last named type he finds to be a tendency to react in 
redintegrative fashion to outstanding and often irrelevant items that are 
only an insignificant part of the total complex experience. This he traces 
to "faulty sagacity*', to use James* term. He is now confronted with the 
obvious problem of the cause or meaning of this particular mode of 
faulty response and it must be said that he evades this problem in a 
distinctly barefaced manner. "If it now be asked why some individuals 
show stronger inclination toward the redintegrative type of response to 
outstanding but irrelevant details, it is perhaps most pertinent to point 
out that the same question should be asked of those whose descriptions 
of the psychoneurotic picture are in terms of symbolism, free-floating 
affect, conversion of libido, pithiatism, etc. In such cases no clear basis 
of individual differences, and hence no adequate etiological account is 
forthcoming. Hence even if we could offer no satisfactory reply con- 
cerning the causes of individual differences, the redintegrative mechanism 
would be in no greater predicament than are the other explanatory 
concepts** (p. 62). He then proceeds to translate his chosen concept inti) 
neurological terminology^ though it is not clear what is gained thereby. 
'*A special merit of the redintegrative concept is to be found in the 
ease with which it dispenses with this elaborate fiction of the efficacious 
unconscious" (p. 71), an idea which "flagrantly and naively ignores the 
familiar canons of demonstrations and proof (p. 71). 

The main thesis of the whole book is that the essential feature of 
psychoneurotic redintegration is the "constitutional cortical inferiority 
(intellectual deficiency)" of the patients, their mental competence being 
just above that of the feeble-minded" (p. 77). "If we have been justified 
in distinguishing between sagacity and learning, the psychoneurotic's 
chief difficulty is in the former function, and he may in a given case be 
pitifully weak in sagacity, yet relatively competent in general alertness. 
On the whole, however, the trait of sagacity is undoubtedly a compo- 
nent of that more general characteristic which we commonly call in- 
telligence, and mental measurements of psychoneurotic soldiers show 
very clearly that these cases are inferior to the average citizen. They 



occupy, in fact, that region of the frequency curve lying just below the 
average intelligence rating and just above the highest grade of the 
feeble-minded. They occupy the region of stupidity. It is highly prob- 
able that the various ^character defects' so commonly ascribed to the 
hysteric, — dependence, extreme suggestibility, naivete, forgetfulness, 
credulity, deceitfulness, impulsiveness, volitional debility, etc,^ — portray 
simply the humble intelligence of these patients, rather than the pre- 
sence of a peculiar *hysteric make-up' or 'neurotic constitution**' 
(pp. 78, 79). 

The second part of the book comprises a presentation of data in- 
tended to demonstrate the truth of this thesis. They are obtained from 
applying a series of modified Binet-Simon intelligence tests to 1200 cases 
of war shock ^t Plattsburg Barracks, New York State, where the 
author worked during the war. As tested in this way, the average 
mental age of the normal American soldier was known to be fourteen 
years, but that of the patients suffering from neurasthenia, psychasthenia, 
and other forms of neurosis was found to be round about twelve year^. 
It was found further that the average mental age in the cases of con- 
version hysteria, /. e. with physical symptoms, was no less than four 
years lower than that of patients suffering from psychical symptoms. 
The author correlates this last finding with the familiar observation in 
all countries that the former class of case occurred much more 
characteristically among the ranks and the latter among officers. He 
ascribes this, however, to the difference in average intelligence sub- 
sisting between the two classes of men, and not, as is usually done, to 
the difference in the psychical situation to which they were exposed 
(responsibility, motive, prestige, and so on). 

A further set of interesting data is furnished by the results of a 
questionnaire of 116 points, which was made just before and after the 
time of the armistice. The beneficial effect of this event is shown very 
clearly, and the author analyses in detail the respects in which the 
answers differed before and after it. 

The fundamental criticism of the mode of approach in the work here 
presented, one which evidently has not occurred to the author, relates 
to the whole of the work now being carried out by means of the various 
intelligence tests. It is this : that no general conclusions drawn from them 
can be regarded as other than tentative until some serious study is made 
of the extraordinarily subtle way in which the individual responses are 
influenced by affective factors, especially by unconscious ones. The 
fallacious assumption, for instance, that the qmotional disorders from 
which the author's subjects were suffering had no influence on their 
responses to the intelligence tests he applied vitiates his conclusions 
as to the intellectual difference between the neurotic and the healthy, 
and therefore those as to the nature of neurotic reactions. E. ]• 

r I . . .-.ii..| iiOm 





Although the opinions expressed at the sixth International 
Congress at The Hague last year were in favour of holding the 
seventh Congress in 1921 » doubts have since been expressed in 
various quarters as to the advisability of this. In view of the 
steps to be taken in making the necessary arrangements for the 
Congress, the officers and members of the Berlin Society were 
naturally desirous of an early decision on this point The Elxe- 
cutive of the International Association has therefore taken the 
opinion of the various European Societies. These were in favour 
of the postponement of the Congress, and in view of the largeness 
of the majorities against holding the Congress in the present year 
and of the existence of other weighty reasons pointing to the 
same conclusion, the Executive has decided that the next Con- 
gress shall take place in the late summer of 1922. 

Ernest Jones. 



In 1920 the activities of the Society were centred on the Con- 
gress; the preparations were discussed at every meeting and the 
Committee was constantly occupied with it. It was convened for 
the month of September and all the members assembled to re- 
ceive the foreign colleagues of the International Association and 
to welcome them as tHeir guests. 

Papers were read by the following members during the session 
of the Congress: — Professor Jelgersma (on "Psycho-Analytic Con- 
tributions to the Theory of Feeling*') and Dr, August Stdrcke (on 


the "Castration Complex" as well as on "Relation between Neuroses 
and Psychoses'* containing StArcke's contribution to the symposium 
arranged on the connection between Psychiatry and Psycho-Analysis). 

The election of four new members, all clinical assistants of 
Professor Jelgersma, constituted another important event of the 
year; as the membership had for some time been stationary, the 
increase was welcome. 

The scientific work of the year was comprised in the five 
meetings held by the Society in 1920 and reported in the ''Neder- 
landish Tydsckrift voor Geneeskunde" (Dutch Journal of Medicine). 

At the first session of the Society, held on February 1, at 
Amsterdam, a report on "Instances of symptomatic acts'* {Symptom- 
handlungen) was read by A. von der Chys, 

Dr. y. R. Katz was our guest during the session of May 20 
he owed his invitation to his proposal with regard to "Communi- 
cations on the Zurich Method in its present form'*. 

He declared at the meeting that Jung had specially devised 
his method for the treatment of the Narcissistic Neuroses: it forms 
a complement to Freud*s treatment of the Transference Neuroses 
and strives for the etablishment of individual synthesis and not 
merely for purposes of analysis. It tends to foster the development 
of the unconscious by bringing it into consciousness, and recognises 
Self-Guidance as its basic principle, as all development is the result 
of a continuous struggle between latent and existing consciousness, 
and the conscious Ego alone has the right to decide whether the 
latent conscious has the right to conscious existence. In the treatment 
of a neurotic patient the principle of Self-Guidance should first 
be developed and brought into harmony with the conscious Ego. 
This is called by Jung the Transcendent Function, 

In the discussion Starcke pointed out that analysis was out of 
the question in the Zflrich Method, which was consequently not 
entitled to the name of Psycho-Analysis, and classed the method 
as a form of work therapy. He then complained of the use, by 
Jung, of the terms originally introduced by Freud in a perfectly 
different sense. Van Ophuijsen spoke of his personal observation 
of the development of the ZUrich school and stated that Jung had 
applied his methods long before Freud had even spoken of 
narcissistic neuroses. He also stated that Jung applied his methods 
to all cases and not only to Narcissistic ones. In his criticism of 
Jung*s latest book he reached the conclusion that the whole 

C^ nonl^ OrFgmaf from 



Zilrich school originated from opposition to the theory of infantile 
sexuality and consequently excluded analysis. 

At the meeting of July 7, at the Hague, Dr. F. P. Muller 
read a paper dealing with the analysis of a case of "Schizophrenia*'. 
The prominent feature of the case was the extraordinary clearness 
with which the delusion of the patient symbolised his fixation on 
his mother and his attitude towards his father. His love for the 
mother, for instance, evinced itself by the conviction that he poss- 
essed a harem of which the Queen, his wife and her two sisters 
were the inmates. The three latter women were his cousins and 
in his youth he had been in love with all three at the same time. 
Later in life he married one of them. Later on his delusion took 
the following form: he imagined that his wife was the Queen or that 
the Queen was his wife. In addition he fancied that he was per- 
secuted by the Prince Consort and by all Germans, as well as by 
the Director of his Asylum, /. e. a series of Father-Substitutes, 
who persecuted him for marrying his mother. 

At the meeting of August 29, at the Hague, three 
papers were read. The first, by J. M. Rombouts^ referred to a 
"Case of Schizophrenia": a school mistress was brought to an 
asylum because she felt herself tortured by electricity and heard 
"voices". These symptoms commenced after a spiritistic seance at 
which she had expected the spirit of her sister to manifest itself. 
Analysis proved that she was subject to an unconscious fixation 
on her mother and that she was very narcissistic. The diagnosis 
was not easy to make, since her facility for automatic script 
suggested hysteria, but it was decided that she was a victim to 
Schizophrenia because of her autism and the "voices'*. 

A paper by A, J. Westemtan Holstyn was then read, entitled 
"The Analysis of a man with spasm in the distribution of the 
Spinal Accessory Nerve*'. As in the preceding case, the roots ot 
the evil were traced to the patient's earliest infancy and considerable 
success was obtained by treatment. A paper dealing with this case 
will appear in the Internationale Zeitschrift fur Psychoanalyse. 

The last paper related to "Erotism in Sport' and was read 
by A. Endtze. He pointed out that an erotic element entered into 
a great many forms of sport. The partial components most con- 
cerned were muscle erotism, narcissism and exhibitionism, which 
fact Endtze illustrated with many examples. The spectators gratify 
chiefly their sadistic tendencies and, by identifying themselves 



with the players, their narcissism. Much sexual symbolism can be 
discovered in games: for instance — the knocking over of the (triple) 
wicket in cricket is strongly suggestive of castration. 

At the last meeting oi the year, held on November 28 
at Amsterdam, A. Stdrcke, at the request of the Committee, repeated 
what he had said at the Congress with regard to the relation 
between Neurosis and Psychosis. This paper will appear in the 
IntematiancUe Zeitschrift fur Psychoanalyse. 

Adolph F. Meyer, Secretary. 

C^ €\r\cA{? Orrgmaf from