THE INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL
OF
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS
VOLUME 11 SEPT.-DEC. 1921 PART 3/4
ORIGINAL ARTICLES
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY
IN THE GUISE OF TRAUMATIC HYSTERIA
A CLINICAL CONTRIBUTION TO ANAL EROTISM*
by
MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER, Budapest.
PART I
In 1908, Freud in his 'Character and Anal Erotism' drew
attention to the impulses included under the description anal-
erotic, and to their great significance in the development of the
Ego factor of the personality; since then the limits of this *
theme have been extended ever further in the steadily accumulat-
ing investigations of many authors, and its fundamental import-
ance made manifest. Such work could apparently only be carried
through in the teeth of manifold resistances, on the part not only
of the outsider but also of the student of analysis himself, because
the psychic constellations concerned are subject to the most
diverse transformations; for similar reasons vi^herever they are
found, the solution of the most outstanding problems of the
psycho-analytic treatment is concerned. It will suffice only to
allude to the results, for they are intimately bound up with the
progress of psycho-analysis in the last decade, and are con- '
sequently well known. Despite the fertility and wide ramifications
embraced in the relevant literature published hitherto, it is
" Translated by F. R. Winton.
255
INTERNATIONAL
PSYCHOANALYTIC
UNIVERSITY
DIE PSYCHOANALYTISCHE HOCHSCHULE IN BERLIN
256 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
deficient in one respect, namely detailed presentation of the circum-
stances of anal erotism, so far as they have been elucidated,
•within the framework of its corresponding clinical entity. Freud
alone continues to produce masterly contributions along these
lines. I refer to the relevant sections of his papers: 'Bemerkungen
fiber einen Fall von Zwangsneurose ' (Sammlung kleiner Schriften
zur Neurosenlehre, 3. Folge) and ' Aus der Geschichte einer infantilen
Neurose' {Ibid, 4, Folge.) i
In both expositions he lets one realize vividly the laborious
path of analysis; the new discoveries are seen in the process of
being made, and one may guess against what resistances they
have been evolved. The following case, which proved to be a
severe neurosis erected upon fixation of the anal-erotic components,
is to be presented clinically in accordance with this method. I need
hardly add that the material examined, which was obtained during the
course of some seven months, is certainly lacking in completeness
and has not always served to make theoretical relationships clear;
meanwhile, however, the treatment had achieved on the one hand
recovery of the patient, and on the other a stage at which some
significant correlations and discoveries could be established. With
due regard to the special features 9f the case, I will now let the
description of the course of the analysis follow. The actual struc-
ture of the neurosis naturally only became evident at the con-
clusion of the treatment ; nevertheless in the interests of lucidity
I shall not adhere strictly to the chronological method of record,
but leaven this with elements of the subsequent synthesis. This
is inevitable in any presentation in which elegance is an aim.
J. v., aged thirty-one years, a tramway employee, gave the
following account of the onset of his illness. Two and a half
years ago he fell off the step of his car at full speed, and was
bruised on the head, forearm and loin. All the injuries affected
the left side. He lost consciousness, and was conveyed from the
scene of the accident to the surgical side of a hospital. In the
meantime he regained consciousness, and it was at once evident
that the injuries were slight, and only that to the head would
> Between these come the theoretically most important two essays: 'Die
Disposition zur Zwangsneurose' {InUrnat. Zeitschr. f. Psa,, 1913) and 'Ober
Triebumsetzungen insbesondere der Analerotik ' (IntemaL Zeitschr, f. Psa.,
1916), to which I shall refer later. Likewise I would emphasize the pertinent work
of Jones from the point of view of its wealth in casuistic and other material.
/
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 257
need stitching, those to the forearm and side being but skin
abrasions. No sort of internal injury was supposed to exist at that
time. During his stay at the hospital, the doctor in charge of his
treatment also had the injured parts X-rayed with negative
results. Three weeks after admission, he left hospital cured. He
again took up his work and after a short time felt quite fit. Some
weeks later pains set in beneath the first rib on the affected side
occurring at first rarely, but soon more frequently, until they
partook of the character of regular attacks. They took place at
short intervals, about fortnightly, lasted fourteen to sixteen hours
and passed off" again. During an attack he felt a boring pain in
the left side 'as if a solid object was trying to emerge', after-
wards he was exhausted and required rest. However the intervals
between attacks passed without the appearance of any particular
phenomena, excepting a slight stitch in the side which occurred
I along with any considerable excitement. In time the condition
became more and more obstinate and intolerable. He had often to
neglect work, and sought out all the various hospitals, where they
were eventually baffled by his complaints. Toward the end of the
second year of his illness, he had lost consciousness in three con-
secutive acute attacks, and they sent him on to the neurological
department. On the strength of the negative findings of surgeons
and physicians, a diagnosis of Traumatic Hysteria was made. As
such, the case was submitted to psycho-analytic treament
At the outset of the course, before the history of the case
could be written down in any detail, all the signs of a stormy
transference set in and engaged my whole attention; it was only
later shown that the explanation lay in his many years of pre-
vious treatment and experiences with other doctors. I must confess
that I found the behaviour of the patient at this time very strange,
and the possibility of a mistaken diagnosis just passed through
my mind. At the very beginning of analysis, he performed two
pecuHar actions, of which the first was relatively intelligible, but
/ the second seemed completely nonsensical. Soon after the beginning
of the first hour he stood up without any particular occasion, and
said he had felt exactly as if the couch had rolled off with him.
Obviously it was an attempt to escape from his unaccustomed
situation and the presence of the physician. When at length I had
persuaded him to lie down again, he was incapable of producing
coherent ideas. At the close of the hour, on my departure, he
- • 18*
!. 258 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
{'
i-
h remained standing awhile and stared at me with protruding throat
f and eyes widely dilated. He gave the impression of one demented;
[ long after, I was able to find the explanation of this evanescent
h 'symptomatic act', which I shall take up at its proper place in
f the record. Some days later he introduced a fresh and quite
i' unambiguous symptomatic act, which allowed the first insight into
■ his unconscious mental life: he rose from the couch, made an
awkward turning movement, and fell back again flat on his face
with his legs dangling. This indirect expression of his passive
homosexual attitude towards the doctor he attributed to
a sudden fainting fit. Its intensity and the form it took at so
early a stage of the analysis had its own particular significance.
The same attitude also found expression in the dreams of this
introductory period. Once he dreamed of a fight with a lion that bit
him in the left shoulder; and again, he was quarrelling with a younger
brother who wanted to shoot him down. In a third dream he was
trying to enter the royal train (it was a few weeks after the
revolution) but was surrounded by soldiers who threatened him with a
dreadful punishment which they did not name. Lastly he dreamed a
scene from his military training, in which a superior dug him in the ribs
in fun. Most important in all these dreams, which succeeded one
another as it were according to programme and undisguisedly
represented the passive homosexuality of the dreamer, was the
progressive demolition of the unconscious phantasies underlying them.
The reaction which at first took so violent, almost archaic-mythi-
cal, a form of expression, became finally transformed into slight
facetiousness. Very little material actually recollected was however
gleaned from these dreams. Here, as in the case of the sympto-
matic act, the patient seemed at once to admit all and to conceal
all. As before he maintained reserve with respect to the demands
of analysis, and was httle inclined to communicate his thoughts
freely. It could not well be a question of resistance nor of
misunderstanding in regard to the treatment, for he had already
accommodated himself to the guiding rules of analysis in accord-
ance with the complex of his unconscious constellation. I can
now only refer to his behaviour as somewhat 'close', but I shall
go into this more fully later.
The transition to a gentler and at once more rational trans-
ference was accomplished by a new series of dreams, which
according to their content belonged to the well-known type ot
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 259
I flying-dreams. He was flying alone in the open, or in a room
I full of onlookers, and in this way took a narcissistic delight in
I his body, determined by regression of feeling. In connection with
these dreams too, only scarce memories could be collected; they
were not related to his real environment, but served purely as an
expression of the tension current within him. Neither this nor the
first type of dream occurred again during the many months of
analysis; I must therefore regard them as a means of compen-
sation or adaptation to the treatment.
After such diverse interludes, I was at last able to induce a
thoroughgoing discussion of the circumstances which formed the
occasion of his falling ill. Nevertheless the results of this must be
postponed in favour of the characterology of the patient as hitherto
established. Taken together, botli thereafter constituted the actual
programme of work of the analysis.
The patient gave one the impression of a self-confident and
methodical man, working with a view to consolidation of his
circumstances. Several changes of occupation, which I shall de-
scribe more closely below, had enabled him steadily to improve
his standard of living; and taking an energetic part in aims
common to his rank for the time being, he was yet able to
further his own interests. He was now the leader of his group of
workers in social and political questions, and his words carried
weight. At the same time, he showed great moderation in his
views, and was good at propagating them among his fellows. In
' such wise he had found it possible to sublimate a great part of
his homosexual libido and hold it in equilibrium. Herein moreover
his marked conceit was rooted. He appeared to be gifted as a
speaker; his style tended towards expletives and pithy expression, m
and he could turn. a phrase with most amusing effect. However, I
he thought thoroughly sensibly, and every action evidently follow-
ed mature consideration. Men of his sort have no true sense of
^■v style, they are deficient in the observational factor of the process
i of thought, and may be said to think by action. He showed
I moreover an insatiable desire for education, but in the absence ,
I of suitable authoritative guidance he had become self-taught, and
f so combined some originality with considerable oddity. Thus for
years he had kept copies of everything that interested him, and
so had collected a manuscript library. From time to time he
would transfer these notes — poems, newspaper articles on various
260 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
subjects, and so on, — to new volumes: he would as it were
make cleaner what was already clean. His attitude towards money
was entirely rational; at one point only could anal erotism be
detected: he disliked soiled notes and either passed them on to
his wife, or despite his thrift spent them without adequate cause.
He enjoyed memorizing passages that suited him; and even though
he failed to understand genuine lyrical verse, he thoroughly
appreciated the emotional variety, partly because it was rhymed.
Moreover he kept a sort of diary, in which actual dates of
general importance were noted; he had no talent whatever for
personal outpourings. In addition to copying, he liked drawing
up accounts and balance sheets. Everything connected with this
business of writing was kept in perfect order, it was all at his
fingers ends, and created an immense impression in his simple
surroundings. Sublimated anal erotism evident in all this was
further betrayed by a material interest in the physical processes
of life, 1 and also by his efforts in diverse ways permanently to
estabhsh himself. Most particularly did biological questions stimu-
late his interest, and especially that of evolution. Information in
this field had been gleaned partly from popular literature, and
partly by unofficial visits, facilitated by the staff, to appropriate
scientific institutions. The earliest incitements in this direction
dated from boyhood, the child's impressions of the farmyard, and
could be traced back step by step to typical infantile curiosity.
Rearing of domestic animals and still more of fowls had had a par-
ticular fascination for him. He related how for a time, as a boy,
he had really cared about the business of hatching, to which
interest numberless hen's and bird's eggs had been sacrificed.
Later each time he had changed his calling, he had seriously
thought of taking to the country and carrying on fowl breeding
on a large scale. To all appearances this desire was so strong in
him that he was sure one day to realise it. In the meantime he
had to be content with pet singing birds, of which he kept several
in the house, and which he fed and looked after himself The
remainder of his ornithological hobbies found play in neighbouring
woods. At the time of the analysis, for several weeks, he would
visit the habitat of a wood-pecker and watch it with obvious
enjoyment, knocking in order to entice its insect prey. All the
• Cf. Ernest Jones: 'Anal-erotic character traits.' Papers on Psycho-
Analysis, 2nd. Ed., p. 664.
r
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 261
peculiarities described, and to be developed further, can at once
be recognised as representatives, disguised and so compatible with
consciousness, of such of the patient's complexes as appeared, if
not pathogenic, at least exaggerated.
Along with these enquiries the family history came to light,
but I vi'ill confine myself here only to its most essential points.
He came of peasants, as an eldest child, and they still lived on
the farm where he had been brought up. Eight of the fourteen
children of the marriage were alive. The youngest, a seven year
old sister, had some relation to the patient's neurosis; likewise
the eldest sister, a girl of twenty-four, whose way of living he
judged most harshly without adequate cause. We found that his
sexual researches had been very active at the time of her birth.
He had noted enviously how tenderly they anticipated her arrival;
a screen-memory involved the wish for her death. Later too, he
had felt no more gently towards her, and by unconscious identi-
fication with the father, had constantly found something to criti-
cise. On a visit to his parents during treatment he turned her
suitor out of the house. The significance of the youngest sister
was cleared up only at the climax of the treatment. He had no
very strong feelings about his brothers, in relation to whom he
rather fancied himself as the first-born; to one only, who had
been drowned in adolescence, was his attitude of any consequence.
He had lent him the money to bathe, and so for a time felt
partly guilty of his death. He was then sixteen years old. This
memory still contributed to the feelings he experienced as driver
in accidents involving others.
Very vivid memories of earliest years were centered round
the grandparents, who had lived at home with them. The respect
shown to them by the grown-ups had intensified their consequence
in the eyes of the child. He told of his grandmother that she had
taken his mother's place in the house during the latter's frequent
lying up with child, and had insisted on great tidiness; he was
said to have inherited this character trait from her. He had been
told that at nine months he had been making his first attempts
to walk, or rather to crawl (he had developed very precociously),
when his grandmother had unintentionally stepped on his thumb —
he had already given up sucking it. So in his memories it fell
to the woman to be the first disturber of the pursuit of pleasure.
She too was supposed to have uttered the first castration threats.
\
262 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER ^
.\.
A particular memory was connected with her toothless mouth, |
namely that she had carefully collected the teeth she had lost, h
and preserved them under her bolster. I shall raise this again
later and now mention only that it is striking that my patient
possessed not a single upper incisor. Memories of the grandfather
were recalled less vividly, although the earliest phenomena of
transference of a specialised kind (not the above-mentioned im-
personal kind) indicated him, and most probably he had been
the patient's first narcissistic love-object. Robust and energetic to
a great age, he had headed the family as farmers, and had
managed the concern according to his own judgement. His pres-
ence had put even the father into the shade, and later had made
an almost undisturbed, even comradely relationship possible with
his son. Actually the patient always behaved towards his father
as he had seen the latter behave toward the grandfather. A mem-
ory of childhood exhibited him as rescuer of the six-year-old
boy from attack by a maddened bull. Another memory recalled
him as priding himself as cheesemaker; he was said always to
have been able to scent whether a cheese had been made by
himself or his wife, which had given rise to jocular references at
table. Both father and grandfather had been distinguished by a
rigid sense of justice, which the patient took as symbol of
independent manliness worthy of imitation. His standpoint in this
respect was, as we shall find, rooted yet more deeply.
Unfortunate economic circumstances had persuaded the parents
to send him at fourteen years as apprentice to a baker. When
he had fully learned his craft, he had gone to the town and
worked for some years under a number of employers. He had
then been influenced by a favourable opportunity to make his
first change of occupation; he had become laboratory assistant at
a chemist's. We were able to establish that he had obviously <v(
enjoyed both these occupations; as baker he had particularly Uked ^
kneading clean dough; there moreover he had learned cookery ;
and the preparation of dishes; in the laboratory he had Avorked
with zest among aromatic and scented fluids. This work too he
had deserted for tram-service, following disappointment in love.
For the first few years he had been a driver, and had had several
street accidents. One had made a very deep impression upon
him, when he had ran over a man in tlie dark, who had been
literally cut in two by the car. Later he had obtained a post
JK
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 263
as conductor. When not yet twenty-four years old he had
married a girl, to whom he had previously paid attentions, but
whom he had temporarily left in consequence of a quarrel. The
marriage was childless although he had longed for a child from
its first days.
A clearer conception of the neurosis, and especially of its
crucial points, became possible with a knowledge of all these
events. Neither dreams hitherto related by the patient nor other
indications pointed near the direction of the accident described
above; on the other hand a displacement of accent soon took
place in connection with the traumatic adventure; not the fall
from the car, but to my surprise, the X-ray examination at the
hospital advanced more and more indubitably into the forefront.
Next it appeared that the patient had repeatedly and obstinately
demanded to be X-rayed afresh, giving always as a ratiorfalized
justification that his disease (namely the pain in the left side) must be
of an organic nature. This stereotyped wish eventually aroused one's
suspicion, which led to the following discoveries: The X-ray exam-
ination originally arranged by the acting surgeon had been, it
appears, of great psychical significance to the patient. Exposed to
strange proceedings, he was brought into a state of anxious
expectancy even by having to undress in the presence of a doctor,
but still more by the various preliminary manipulations untertaken
by the latter (such as fixing little sandbags to his extremities in
order to keep them still). Now the lamp was switched on and
began to work with its loud sparking, and for a moment he felt
paralysed with fear. He readily admits that the examination itself
rather disappointed him. In his anxiety he had been convinced
that the doctor intended performing some operation in connection
with the examination — 'perhaps suddenly thrusting an instrument
into his loin'. However nothing much happened. The mental
process associated with this was naturally entirely withdrawn from
the patient's consciousness, and proceeded to develop in the
unconscious. The whole adventure thus became a nucleus round
which a libidinous wish-phantasy, of a passive-homosexual nature,
might crystallise. Moreover the a,ssumption seemed probable that
the wish to be X-rayed anew represented not only a persistent
unconscious instinctive tendency, but at the same time an attempt
at abreaction: a repetition might even now demolish the painful
affect and tension which had not been abreacted at the time. So
264 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
far I could form no sure judgement about the degree of thwart-
ing of libido, or other factors determining this wish. Analysis
elucidated this too, when the patient had described in detail his
attacks of pain, and included many new particulars.
Already twenty-four hours before these began, great restlessness
set in. Ordinary incidents, usually without effect on him, now excited
him. He became silent and irritable, especially at home where
he treated his wife curtly; the more imminent the approach of
the attack, the less could he tolerate her proximity or ultimately
even her presence. He accounted for this strange behaviour, most
important for the resolution of the neurosis, by the significant
parallel that when at hospital, every assistance rendered by a
woman had irritated him. Particularly had he refused to let one
give him an enema; this operation seemed an impossibility for a
womah. A sense of shame will not completely explain this behav-
iour; I discern here too a passive-homosexual factor. He regarded
his illness jealously as an exclusively personal affair. If he
happened to be asked how he was, he might become furious
and flare up; of this I had opportunity of satisfying myself during
analysis. Together with his transformation of mood, he suffered
from constipation that was not amenable to any drug. Regularly
following such prodromal indications, the pain in the side occurred
on the next day, and increased for some hours until the patient
could neither stand nor sit. Even lying down he could maintain
one position only for few minutes. As soon as the pains reached a
climax, he became weak and limp. He then had to He down on
his left side, and it eased him to stuff a small bolster under him.
Sometimes he would fall asleep in this position after a short
while. The attacks which were accompanied by loss of conscious-
ness, were preceded by buzzing in the head, and seeing black
before the eyes. Afterwards he felt pricking in all his limbs, and
was temporarily dazed. First he passed wind, and finally the con-
stipation too ceased.
This description which was taken almost word for word from
the patient, together with an impressive demonstration of his
behaviour during an attack which he reproduced in my presence,
drove me at length to the idea, which had formerly passed through
my mind but was always suppressed as ridiculous, that if this
were all true, the attack could represent nothing but a child-
birth; moreover the constipation must be a conversion symptom
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 265
of an hallucinated pregnancy, brought into close relationship with
the X-ray episode.^
By this is of course meant an unrecognisable representation,
rearranged by the mechanism of the neurosis, to which anal-'
erotic components contributed suitable matter (partus per anum).
The scene is dominated by a persistent infantile trait. In answer
to careful enquiry on the point, the patient told me that when
ten years old he had heard the groans and cries of a woman
in labour. She was neighbour to the family, and for two
whole days was unable to give birth to her child, so that at
last the doctor had to deliver her with forceps. He had a
vivid recollection of her lying on the bed, and holding her knees
drawn up during the pains; he had observed her repeatedly
unnoticed through a window. He thought he could remember
mo£t clearly seeing the mutilated dead child in a wooden trough.
The pain in the loin — a mythological necessity, as it were of
the story of the creation, in which Eve is fashioned from Adam's
rib — could later be more closely determined by a group of
experiences. Nevertheless I am compelled at this point to drop
the thread I had taken up, and to interpolate a short description
of a nervous intestinal disturbance which the patient had had
years ago, and of which the analysis ran parallel to that of the
recent illness.
It was in the early years of his marriage, seven years ago,
that he had caught a heavy cold at work, which ran its course
with high fever. Connected with it after a wearisome convalescence,
a peculiar bowel trouble set in. The exact relation between the
cold and bowel trouble could not be established, and had it
seems not been clear to the doctor treating him at the time. The
recent illness indicated that the neurosis tended to develop in
connection with an organic process involving pain, in order to
break into activity. This suggested the assumption of a maso-
chistic fixation, for which the analysis contributed a wealth of
• Later when I first told the patient of this state of affairs, with more
adequate evidence, he was silent for a time and then replied: 'Dr. K. told
my wife much the same thing when she asked him about my condition. He
felt he could not fully envisage my complaints; if only I had not been a man
he could have understood me more easily." I must admit that this intuitive
confirmation on the part of an unknown colleague, who had thus hit the nail
on the head, gave me great satisfaction. Like my predecessor I found of
course that this had no effect on the patient at this stage.
266 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
further evidence. At first he suddenly feU in the middle of his
trip a painful desire to defaecate, and had rapidly to forsake his
car. Moreover it always troubled him uselessly, for he could never
obtain a motion. Medical treatment was adju.sted to the many
and changeable complaints and symptoms of the patient, and they
tried pretty well everything that one does in the case of bowel
disturbance which is not clearly diagnosed. Even a chemical
examination of stomach contents was undertaken. The patient's
description of this, and a dream following upon it, led at last to
the solution of the hitherto unintelligible transient symptomatic
acts produced at the beginning of the analysis. In the patient's
phantasy, the stomach tube had attained perverse secondary signi-
ficance (as object of fellatio). His extraordinary behaviour, which
quite corresponded to that at a stomach test, the protruded
throat, anxiously dilated eyes, etc., was as it were the unconscious
consent to a' homosexual perversion. This feminine attitude to the
doctor was the key to all the symptomatic acts that occurred
later too in the course of the cure. From the manifold symptoms
of the disease, there crystallised gradually a very obstinate
spastic constipation, which we recognise as a hysterical manifestation
in Freud's sense. After several months, the continuance of this
trouble was endangering the patient's position, and the condition
slowly terminated. An extremely effective measure had been
suppositories, which, on doctor's orders, were introduced into the
rectum. The patient was at the time very satisfied with this
treatment. The connection of this spontaneously evaporated mono-
symptomatic hysteria with the conditions of his life at the time
brings out the state of affairs still more clearly. Things happened
at work, particularly that he occasionally had run over pedestrians
on the streets (among them a boy who fortunately had got caught
up in the safety arrangement) ;i these greatly worried him, where-
fore he was already thinking of another change of occupation.
The circumstances of his marriage contributed very important
motives for illness. As I have already recorded, they had not
united without disturbances. For not long previously he had
heard by accident that there was an illegitimate child. The
* A veritable birth-saving phantasy. A sadistic trait too is unmistakable,
in response to which the sense of pity is aroused. To recover from his
fright, by the way, the patient thrashed the boy like a mother punishing
him, after he had brought him forth.
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 267
patient was deeply hurt by the faithlessness of his bride, and her
want of trust in him; with thje child itself, a girl, he put up
more readily, and later took it to live with them. However
he then felt deceived (the jealousy-constellation, with obvious
interest in the seducer), and broke off the relationship tliey had
begun. Several months later he first proposed to come to an
amicable agreement. His parents were absent from the wedding,
which he regretted grievously. His father was temporarily ill, and
his mother lay in bed with child — his youngest sister.' As her
frequent pregnancies are related, as we shall see, to his infantile
anal-erotic desires, one could hardly escape the thought that this
time too the repressed instinct may have obtained reinforcing
contributions from the favourable circumstance, namely the sister's
birth. Having embarked on marriage in such modest circum-
stances, it was necessary to live economically, al though, following
in the parental footsteps, he strove from the first day to possess
a well-established household. Here his systematization came in.
Everything was to be done properly, and in order — first estab-
lishment, then increase of family. For this reason moreover, the
satisfaction of his most ardent wish- — to have a child — -had at
all costs to be postponed. This is the right moment at which to
examine this wish more closely; intense narcissistic self-love alone
could underlie it, for in phantasy he always thought of having
male offspring only. The co-operation of the circumstances tlius
briefly set, which are yet to appear more sharply defined and
determined in relation to the whole, and more especially the
thwarted life-wish of the patient, rooted in emotionally toned
infantile phantasy, suffice to account for the nervous constipation,
which in view of all this, can have only one meaning — the expected
child is for the time being not to arrive. Equating child with
faeces, natural in unconscious thought, ^ was frequently demon-
strated in this case from dreams. Our patient did not at that time
» Cf. Freud, 'Analyse der Phobic eines fUnfjahrigen Knabeu' ('Lumpf-
theorie"), Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosenlehre, 3. Folge, 1913; and
' 0ber Triebumsetzungen insbesondere der Analerotik. ' Ibid., 4. Folge, 1918.
I would recount here the following from the history of a young woman. With
a strong father fixation as a child, she began to suffer from serious constipation at
her sixth year (motions once or twice a week, with great struggles). Then
her youngest sister was born, and for a long time she was hostile, but later
developed an intense almost maternal tenderness towards her. After the
death of this sister, melancholic moods set in. Constipation continued with
:r
-■1
^ \
268 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
know that he would be prevented to this day from seeing his
wish fulfilled.
Let us now return to the chief symptom of the neurosis, the
pain in the loin, the etiology of which I have described as deter-
mined by a group of experiences. I shall postpone consideration
of its foundation, which is to be sought in anal-erotic wish-phant-
asies, until I come to the circumstances of childhood and dispos-
itional elements. It might be that these, which were involved
,|, in a massive fixation, together with the scene observed at ten
years, would alone suffice to direct the patient's labile sexuality
into the channel of the neurosis; further occurrences, to which in
virtue of his innate disposition he reacted as to traumata, gave
the clue. He was once followed by his grandfather, on account
of a prank; he fled, but the old man started after him and ult-
imately caught him. He was less impressed by the thrashing he
received, than by the old man's robust legs. Pursuit, and the stitch
in the side which followed this running, are closely related in the
recollection. A quite analogous if less amusing scene took place
somewhat later when he was nine years old. By bad luck, he had
knocked out two front teeth of a little girl with a catapult. The )
injured child's father came along to punish him for the misdeed. I
He rushed out in terror, and ran away from his pursuer right
across an open field. Eventually, when his wind gave out, and
exhaustion left him barely conscious, he was overtaken and dealt
with. Both these memories of dread of an approaching man were
blended with an apparently disconnected experience at fifteen
years, which achieved later immense importance on account of
the circumstances of the X-ray episode. He caught diphtheria, and
was given an injection of antitoxin in the left side ^ by the
doctor treating him. The later homosexual wish-phantasy was
varying intensity for over twenty years, and after marriage, which was at
first childless, it became if anything worse. The condition improved markedly
every month during the periods. After birth of her first child there was
spontaneous and complete cure. Analytic investigation showed in this case
too, that the infantile wish for a child (from the father) had been converted
into internal symptoms. Maternity eventually shifted the apparently slight
disease.
* A person's left side counts as feminine, as is known from many neur-
oses and folk-psychology. Moreover the male genital organ is usually carried
on the left side.
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 269
superimposed upon this real stimulus. It follows without doubt
that in dealing with the psychical forces which arose in connection
with the X-ray examination the patient was gravely impeded in
mental adaptability by a high degree of 'complex' sensitivity
which had developed from the experiences described. It is in this
group therefore that we can recognise the immediate exciting
causes of the neurosis. The persistence latently, at fifteen years
of the unduly developed anal-erotic instinct-factor was meanwhile
confirmed by a peculiar memory. The patient tells that he could
not easily bring himself to defaecate in the open, although it was
:^ the everyday custom in the circles to which he belonged. In
addition to repressed exhibitionism, one can see clearly in this
recollection the reaction against his passive homosexuality. ^
Furthermore, the fact of onanism having been transiently practised
and smoothly given up during puberty, speaks in favour of other
instinctive tendencies having remained prominent at this time, and
consequently in childhood.
Let us summarise the results of the analysis up to this point.
They lead to the inevitable conclusion that the X-ray episode
materially disturbed the equilibrium of the patient's libidinous
tendencies. So far the state of aifairs would seem completely
explained. In regard to two questions, however, which arise directly
therefrom, satisfactory answers are still to a large extent out-
standing. In connection with the first of these, namely the wish-
phantasy made active by the neurosis, many indications strengthen
the idea that it has to do with an hallucinated (hysterical)
pregnancy, with associated representation of parturition in the
attack. As to the second, we suspect with some justice, and par-
ticularly on account of insight into the patient's character, that
anal-erotic tendencies play a part. It was these, then, that consti-
tuted the form of the neurosis, i. e. determined the wish-phantasy.
Decisive conclusions on these two subjects, which are continually
interrelated and supplementary, can be reached only by searching
through the conditions of infant life. The material relevant to this
was, as in all analyses, not obtained suddenly at a certain stage,
but rather was accumulated at various times by ehciting facts,
sometimes spontaneously, sometimes requiring careful re-inter-
pretation. The essential achievement of the analysis is involved in
» Boys often amuse themselves by stepping unnoticed behind their play-
fellow's back for fun to startle him. (Related by the patient.)
270 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
this work, both as regards theoretical elucidation, and therapeu-
tically in overcoming the resistances concerned therein.
PART II
One recollection stands out above all in the story of the pat-
ient's childhood ; it is of an unusual adventure, and as such exer-
cised an influence in later life. This episode had never entirely
eluded his consciousness, and cropped up early in the course
of treatment. What makes it so remarkable, apart from its con-
tent, is the uncommon vividness and accuracy with which every
detail had been preserved, although the patient was little more
than three years old at the time it happened.^ In contrast with
other experiences, which are remembered repeatedly during
psycho-analytic treatment but only become distinct in the later
reproductions, this one was presented immediately on the first
occasion without gaps, making the later process of clarification
and completion superfluous. I hold that this very circumstance
is in favour of its pre-eminent significance in the patient's mental
life. It happened as follows. His father was out, and he was
playing one day in the kitchen, where his mother was. She was
suckling his youngest brother, then about nine months old, and
sat at the table on which crockery with relics of breakfast was
still present. During play he noticed a fragment of bread left
by his father. He stretched over for it holding tight to the edge
of the table, and may so have disturbed his mother who was en-
grossed in thought. She shouted angrily at him, and probably be-
cause he would not desist from his intention, she seized a bread-
knife lying near by, and hurled it at him. She had aimed her
unpremeditated throw well. The blade ran its point through the
little brimless felt hat that he was wearing (the usual headgear
of Hungarian peasant children), and pierced the skin of the
^ Incideatally, the patient's memory reproduces all recollections remark-
ably vividly ; probably the notable sense of reality associated vifith anal
erotism is here a leading factor. I would venture to put forward a corres-
ponding proposition, with due reserve, though founded on a very convincing
case. Phantasies that have developed under patronage of an oral fixation of
1 ibido exhibit a curiously veiled character. This may be attributable to the
yet limited field of action to which mental life is restricted at the corres-
ponding stage of its development.
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 271
forehead on the right side. He cried out loudly, but the mother
too was horrified by her unintended act, and hurried towards him.
She snatched the knife out of the wound, which she quickly
washed ; she then carried the weeping child into the living room
where, as he exactly remembers, she laid him right across the foot
of the bed.i While he was gradually quieting down, she took the
little hat which showed where the knife had cut it, and sewed up
the damaged place with red twine, as he can recall to this day.
At his mother's request, he kept the whole afifair from his father,
who never heard anything of it. He continued wearing the mended
hat for a long time.
The effects of this episode could be traced in many directions,
and as an outstanding childhood experience it often led to most
important orientations during the course of the analysis. Thus in
the first place, one could assume that it had set a term to the
brief period of infantile masturbation, * and was later further in-
volved in castration experiences. We found above, moreover, that
the first castration threat hailed from the grandmother, to which
he attributed the renunciation of his oral libido. Here the woman
comes up a second time as disturber of sexual pleasure. Perhaps
in another field the psychic effects of the episode were even
deeper and more persistent. It is established without doubt that
the patient's narcissistic masculinity was precociously stimulated
by the injury to his head. We must not regard this as an innate
disposition, such as the anal erotism which is to come up soon,
but rather as an accidental motif, which however became respons-
ible for the first fixation of libido in the patient's development.*
Such a state of affairs could be inferred from a number of di-
verse erotic attributes and character traits in the present condition
^ of the patient. For the sake of completeness I will insert these
here. The patient, a vigorous man who knew his mind, and had
advanced views and interests, opposed in the most emphatic way
any effort towards emancipation on the part of women, whose
activities he wanted to see limited strictly to domesticity. He
• > The place for new-born babes in the village.
» Cf. Freud, Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosenlehre, 3. Folgc,
S. 164, footnote.
' The possibility of such fixation on account of 'purely chance happen-
ings in childhood ' has already been emphasised by Freud (Vorlesungen zur
Einfilhrung in die Psychoanalyse, 1917, S. 418).
19
272 MICHAEL lOSEPH EISLER
warmly denied women any sense of justice (which as a child he
had so venerated in his father and grandfather) or capacity for
education. Incidentally, he was himself guilty of contributing evid-
ence on the last point, for he had made ineffectual efforts to
educate his wife's illegitimate daughter, as well as his youngest
sister, whose birth coincided with his first neurotic illness (see
above). He attributed the bad results of his efforts, not to his
own impatience towards any female creature, but rather to
her supposed inferiority. Preoccupation with an idea or illness
was ever a welcome opportunity to keep his wife at a
distance; nor did he ever let her into the knowledge of the
plans and projects he was ceaselessly forging. It has already
been stated that his wish for male offspring was determined
by narcissism. Other relics of unduly potent infantile narciss-
ism came forward as certain paranoid phantasies, which
however only gave evanescent indications, and proved very
variable. Of these, 1 have already mentioned jealousy. It had
reference, however, not only to his wife's former love-affair,
but developed into delusion-like phantasies of her possible
infidelity, for which he wished to atone by murder of the late
lover. Surely these phantasies are to be regarded as new
editions of similar ones in childhood, in which it was a quest-
ion of the father and mother. As link may serve his jealous
attitude with respect to his eldest sister. In this connection, further,
one must mention his aggressiveness, which repeatedly appeared
in dreams as ability in debate. A curious episode may have rein-
forced it. When a conductor on a tram he thought he had once
noticed that an old man of impressive appearance, who travelled
with him daily and always dropped a small tip in his hand when
he took his ticket, expected in consequence servile behaviour.
Directly the idea had occurred to him, he unwillingly returned the
superfluous money, and gave the traveller to understand he had
nothing to expect from him. It is interesting that some days later
there was a sort of conversation and r econciliation between them,
which introduced them to a friendly relationship. He was partly
responsible for this change, and afterwards he even enjoyed being
pleasant to the old man. Thus a certain malleability of the pat-
ient's narcissism is evident, and leads to the provisional assumpt-
ion that another prepotent impulse had necessitated its dissolution.
Mofeover there was a number of other means of expression or
; '- ;ir
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 273
rather regulation of the strengthened narcissism. Such was found
in connection with an important dream, in which there were cer-
tain saving-phantasies which had to do with various respected in-
dividuals. The dream included a scene in which a town was on
fire, and in the midst of tremendous upheaval he carried a town
councillor from out of a burning house into the open, and as
thanks for the rescue heard him utter resignation to an ajmless
life.i A man who had natural endowments similar to those of the
patient, but a finer intellect and more influential rank, would prob-
ably have achieved very remarkable and profitable work in life.
Such hero phantasies, which, dissociated from reality, nevertheless
continued to exist in imagination, could always be traced back
to the first love-object, the grandfather, who had once rescued
the boy from a mad bull. In the reflector of narcissism, this ad-
venture underwent transformation into its opposite. Another group
of phantasies had to do with aversion from the woman's part in
the process of reproduction, in which way he reacted analogously
to the authors of the Old Testament story. He could never be
.'ri.?: reconciled to the idea that Nature had left the important operat-
ion of actual construction of the body, and carrying it, entirely
to woman. Apparently he was running close therein to the chief
complex of liis neurosis. A further step in such phantasies is the belief
in self-creation, which was demonstrably present in the patient.
It has not been possible to present this summary account of
his narcissism in more coherent form, because analysis achieved
in this respect isolated and disconnected suggestions, rather than
definite and final conclusions; further because the psychical equil-
ibrium of the patient himself did not allow him ultimately to
penetrate beyond this stage of development. Particularly, as far
as these saving and self-creation phantasies are concerned, they
are as a rule not associated with the syndrome of hysteria, but
belong to complexes of the psychoses. Though the case under treat-
ment may seem strange in regard to the regions of feeling that
have won recognition, further understanding can be approached
by comparison with cases that belong to the realm of psychiatry.
» The dream reminds one of the poignant poetic scene in the Aeneid,
which tells how the hero Aeneas carries his father Anchises out of burning
Troy. Similarly in other dreams mythological traces could be demonstrated
The patient described this dream as prophetic, and brought it into lelation
with political events. His tendency to prophesy will be discussed presently
IB*
274 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
Psycho-analytic literature in particular includes a description of a
typical case which can be cited as an example for comparison.
I refer to the case that has been so critical in determing the
etiology of paranoia, namely that of the President of the Senate,
Schreber. 1 Here we find told straight out, with little inhibition,
and called by name, those repulsive phantasies, foreign to con-
sciousness, which called forth the patient's neurosis, and could
only be disinterred with so much labour. Such are the inversion
into woman, and fertilisation by divine rays. I would emphasise
with Freud that analysis contributed nothing to these phantasies,
which must be considered a psychic constellation sui generis, and
which are contained in Schreber's own account of his illness. The
distinction is to be found in the mechanisms of the types of dis-
ease ; whereas in hysteria symptoms are formed exclusive of
consciousness, in paranoia the diseased processes invade conscious-
ness in the form of delusions. In Schreber's case a firm adhesion
of feeling to the father, and the childlessness of his marriage
called to life the psychotic process of inversion of his own sex ;
in this case too, therefore, the most important section of uncon-
scious content is concealed. Further I would just call attention
to the far-reaching analogy which obtains between the infantile
circumstances in either case (particularly anal erotism), but cannot
develop this here. Anyhow the strangeness of the case in hand
has thus been placed in its proper perspective, by which means
it has surely become more readily credible.^
The patient's narcissism took a peculiar part in the structure
of his dreams, and in this way was divulged a constant preoccupa-
tion with his own person and certain internal processes.
Fundamentally his hypochondriac fears must be reckoned as be-
longing here. Nevertheless I would emphasise that none of the
narcissistic traits brought forward formed very prominent features,
although its strengthened basis could be established by obser-
vation. We shall yet discover why these hypothetical derivatives
suffered later deviation.
* Freud, ' Psychoanalytische Bemerkungen (Ibereinen autobiographisch be-
schriebenen Fall von Paranoia (Dementia Paranoides) ', Sammlung kleiner
Schriften zur Neurosenlchre, 3. Folge, 1913.
' Such phantasies seem at times to be conscious also in obsessional
neuroses. Cf. Ernest Jones: 'EinigeFSlle von Zwangsneurosc '. Jakrbuck der
Pta., Bd. IV, S. 574.
A:
i<im
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 275
I turn now to the element of disposition in this many-sided
\ I neurosis, and this concealed its actual formation ; it is the anal-
erotic component instinct, the enormous development of which
was disclosed step by step by the analysis. To this it was that
the libido had reverted which had become dissociated from its
object, and so formed the group of hysterical symptoms with
which we are familiar. In very early days, perhaps directly after
the abrupt curtailment of oral libido, which however, as we shall
see, was yet to levy tribute, anal erotism set in, in the guise of
a well-marked zest for excretion. Although memory stopped short
of this point, it may be taken as established on many grounds
that the impulse first sought satisfaction in the act of defaecation,
more especially in view of the bowel disturbance seven years ago
which underwent spontaneous resolution. Indirect evidence for
this could be drawn from several of the character traits already
brought forward. I shall here describe two, the presence of
which I have been unable to discover in psycho-analytic literature
and beg that they should be interpolated at the appropriate point
in Ernest Jones' excellent essay, 'The Anal-Erotic Character Traits'.
The patient evinced a peculiar attitude towards time, far ex-
ceeding rational limits. He was not only precise and punctual,
so that he made use of every available moment, but was inclined
to do two things concurrently, such as reading at meals or in the
lavatory, or concentrated thinking on a walk, etc. This typical
character trait, which might be named after Caesar's historical
peculiarity, can be directly traced to the pleasurable tendency of
the child to perform the major and minor operations contempor-
aneously. And actually in this case, urethral erotism could be
shown to exist in connection with anal erotism. Below, I shall
aaain call attention to this characteristic in connection with the
analysis of his death phantasies. He associated this characteristic
to do two things at the same time — with the urgent impulse
'' to do anything he undertook 'completely', from which a thor-
■;; ou^hly virile and effective behaviour in life ensued. This last trait
I also explains his strong inclination for 'complete', i.e. unused,
things, such as clothes. People of such a kind are ashamed, for
S instance, to wear mended garments. The voluptuous interest in
the act of defaecation was later more vigorously assimilated and
worked up into peculiarities of character than that in the excreta
themselves, which would rather indicate inertia of libido. Several
*•
276 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
reminiscences were available in this connection. Primarily the stools
became objects, exquisite to look at, to which the very value of
a member of the body was attributed. It is the auto-erotic stage
of development of this component instinct, in which but few
associations have any influence. One gains the impression that
the injury to the head alluded to was followed by a marked
augmentation of anal erotism, determined partly by the turning
away from the mother, and partly by the sexual enquiries that
soon set in. All his childish fancies and experiences were grouped
about this impulse, which like a magnet attracted all psychical
activities within its sphere of influence. Sexual curiosity was directed
in the first instance to the frequent pregnancies and parturitions
of his mother ; and, in consequence of his massive dispositional
tendencies, he lighted on the infantile phantasy of identity of
child with faeces. This phantasy is to this day closely bound up
in the patient's memory with the conception of fertility of faeces,
actually in a form that I would term a *seed complex' {Frucht-
kern complex).* A favourite occupation was to examine his own
and adult's stools to see if any fruit-stones might be embedded
in them. He made a note of situations in which he had left
stools lying, and on one occasion discovered with intense wonder
how a living shoot had sprouted from a cherry stone during the
next spring. He was amazed that such a stone could still grow
after the great heat to which he imagined it had been exposed
in the bowel.^ Furthermore, he now took to the habit of swallow-
ing fruit complete with stone, until at sixteen, when a painful
mishap occurred, a pointed plumstone hurting his rectum during
defaecation. The case of the extruded cherry-stone was not an
isolated one ; in the yard of the family farm stood a tree which
bloomed thanks to a similar chance, and was therefore called in
joke by the father 'the filthy plum tree'. Only a few years ago,
he heard in a letter from home that they had had to fell this
particular tree. The significance of the seed-complex is evident
moreover in other inclinations. Thus for example in the prepara-
tion of plum-fool he has the stones cooked up with the rest, and
than revels in the sweetened product. Again, he collects apricot
stones, dries and skins them after breaking them open in hot
' Just as in eastern poetry and thought the pomegranate counts as a sym-
bol of fertility on account of its abundance of seed.
^ These are obviously phantasies _of puberty, referred to childhood.
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 277
water, so that he can relish them contemplatively during the i
course of the winter. Further he knows a number of cookery rec-
ipes, and enjoys playing at the art of cooking (anal erotism,
and identification with the mother).^ An extraordinary accident "*
enabled me to discover how powerful an influence this complex
was still exerting on his mental experience. He was accompanying
me for a short way, the cherry season being in full swing, when I
noticed that while speaking or listening — we were discussing
a matter in which he was interested — he continually deviated
to the right or left in order to step on cherry stones thrown
away in the street. I called his attention to this symbolic action,
whereupon he told me that this had been his habit for years,
and boasted that it was not so easy for a stone to evade his
keen eye. This activhy did not disturb his being occupied in other
ways at the same time (compare his so-called Caesarean capacity
described above). He gave as a reason that he had once slipped
on such a stone and wanted to avoid a similar mishap. Beneath
this rationalization lay concealed those infantile death-wishes con-
cerning his brothers and sisters, which the symbolic act disclosed;
for the stones always represented small children in his uncon-
scious thoughts. This hostility was quite openly experienced
when he was six, when his eldest sister was born. The patient
could remember vividly how they had looked forward to
her arrival with immense expectations. Further the idea of
dead children could be found counting as faecal symbols in his
dreams.^
In this connection, I would mention the patient's flatus complex,
which co-existed along with the coprophilic impulses. Though its
influence was not as comprehensive as Ernest Jones has shown it
to be in cases of obsessional neurosis,* nevertheless it was strik-
ingly present. It could be traced back to the grandfather, who
was without scruples in this respect, and aroused the respectful
belief in the boy that such behaviour was a privilege of the head
of the family. Whenever the grandfather broke wind he swore in
1 Cf. Ernest Jones, 'Einige Falle von Zwangsneurose'. Jakrbuch der Pm.,
Bd. IV, S. 568.
» I shall give an example of this later.
» Ernest Jones: loc. cit Ernest Jones has established the far-reaching
character of this complex in his monograph ' Die Empfangnis der Jungfrau
Maria durch das Ohr', Jahrbuck der Psa., Bd. VI, 1914.
278 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
fun, saying 'now go to the devil'. When the small boy was a
nuisance, he would address him very similarly, cursing him gently.
The complex could be recognised in occasional instances in later
life. When a school-boy, he eagerly collected money, in order to
be able to buy a toy steam engine. The complex appears as re-
action-formation as fear of thunder and lightning (Brontephobia).
Later it was expressed as interest in weather and its changes. I
remarked in connection with the saving-phantasies (the dream of
the fire) that he was inclined to imagine he possessed a certain
prophetic talent, and this can now be readily correlated with the
flatus-complex. He always gave as surest evidence in favour of
this that he always knew exactly when a guest was coming
(guest = child = faeces = flatus).
An equally highly pleasurable sense of smell held sway along
with anal erotism. No reaction in the form of hypersensitivity to
scents has however yet appeared corresponding to its extensive
infantile development. Excreta never disgusted him, but the smell
of a carcase did so, and made him lose his appetite. How intim-
ately the childish death-phantasies were related to this sense may
be illustrated by two examples. He notices the smell of dead bodies
even outside the house, should chance direct him to the prox-
imity of such a place. He was once enabled, through the good
offices of a friend, to visit an autopsy chamber, where he saw an
incision which had been begun on the corpse of a woman. The
fatty abdominal wall had already been divided in the mid-line.
For two years after, he was unable to enjoy fat beef. He avoided
mutton altogether, on account of its strong smell.
For the sake of completeness I shall now proceed with the
analytic revelations with regard to his sadistic tendencies, supple-
menting the occasional examples already adduced. These were
of so powerful development that two methods were employed in
the process of their adaptation. A portion was transformed into
masochism — the Ego serving as object of the sadistic impulse
— and becoming bound up, as we have frequently noticed, with
the tremendous anal-erotic complexes he thus became passive.
A no less significant portion could however not avail itself of this
outlet, and persisted actively as pity, a reaction-formation to tlie
instinct.1 This contributed as a factor in the first neurotic illness,
seven years ago; he was then incapable of bearing the sight of
* Freud : ' Triebe und Triebschicksale ', etc.
mi
K
I -f '
I ,
Wm - '• A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCV 279
"^ a person run over. Anyhow, he finds it intolerable to see animals
die, and especially their failing glance, and people tortured by
pain (the memory of childbirth observed as a child).
This does not quite conclude the account of the sphere of
anal-erotic tendencies. They were able to make considerable con-
tributions to an organ which is inherently responsive in this direc-
tion, namely the mouth. His phantasies indicating oral libido-
I fixation suggested not only a surprisingly extensive distribution,
but were also capable of interpretations from several cispects ; and
their critical introduction into the general scheme of tlae neurosis
caused no little trouble. The pregnancy phantasy served as a
sign-post. When he was hardly more than five years old a curious
selective inhibition of appetite appeared, having reference partic-
ularly to strong smelling dishes, and this reached a real idiosyncrasy
persisting to this day in the case, for instance, of onions. He
cannot stand them in any form, and if by chance a minute speck
I of onion comes into contact with his gums, he reacts with violent
and repeated retching. I could only understand this irresistible
distaste when I heard where the patient laid emphasis in des-
cribing it. The Hungarian for the plant is literally 'onion-germ'
{hagymacsir). Evidently the notion of something alive included in
this conception had a mighty eifect in bringing about the forma-
tion of the idiosyncrasy. Its unconscious basis appeared to be an
infantile phantasy of oral fertilisation, which is constantly to be
found supplementing anal birth theories. In this connection, tliere-
fore must be taken the patient's presuming the origin of his ill-
ness to be due to swallowing something unpalatable or harmful
fa splinter of enamel from a saucepan). He is afraid moreover of
being poisoned (a familiar dream symbol of pregnancy : in one
of his dreams a fungus appeared as penis symbol). A year after
I ^g onset of the idiosyncrasy to onions, our patient discovered
that he had a peculiar ability as a function of his stomach which
may be described as chewing the cud. He could easily swallow
buttons or small marbles, such as children use for toys, and then
regurgitate them into his mouth. After a satisfying meal he could
even bring up chunks of meat that he had gulped down whole,
piece by piece, in order by degrees to give them a subsequent
chewino-. Water that he had drunk, could be spurted back in a
stream. Such infantile inclinations concealed in part tendencies
to coprbphagia (buttons and marbles are exquisite faeces-
280 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
symbols), but in part too they show that an incredibly generalised
anal erotism has transformed the oral zone to a secondary cloaca.^
It was only after all these things had been made clear that I
arrived at a final explanation of a communication made by tlie
patient long before. He had told how in the early months of his
recent illness he had decided, without much consideration, to have
his upper incisors extracted one by one, because he could no
longer tolerate their foul smell. But during the process he fainted
with pain. I vaguely guessed that these faints were causally related
to the repeated losses of consciousness following the pain in the
loin, but I could at first not find my way about the muddle of
complaints, memories, interpretations, and so on. Here again the
dominant pregnancy phantasy was a decisive factor. Tooth-
extraction, which counts as a well-known symbol of parturition
in women's dreams, must have the same significance in this case ;
and the forceps delivery observed as a child contributed an inter-
mediate idea.2 At the beginning of his hysteria, therefore, the
patient attempted to rid himself of his diseased fancies by a
sacrifice in the oral direction. The tooth extraction moreover was
to be a substitute for the operation unavailingly anticipated at
the X-ray performance, and to effect an outlet for the concomitant
damming back of libido. Nevertheless the neurosis was the
stronger, and found here another motive for its establishment. It is
of interest to note the direction it took in that it first achieved
transient expression in primordial form. Thus the archaic con-
ception of oral birth is most impressively represented in the
biblical story of Jonah, where the hero is spat forth by a whale.
In describing the introductory phase of the treatment I called
attention to one of the patient's character traits, which I could not
then explain. I take this opportunity of interpolating the explana-
tion at a point at which the trait became intelligible to me. The
resistance which sooner or later appears in every analysis, as an
inevitable consequence of treatment, is of course rooted in diflfer-
ent sources from case to case, and must therefore be resolved
independently each time. The factor of resistance that arises from
the nature of the disease is often sufficiently equalised by the
' Cf. Ernest Jones, ' Einige Falle von Zwangsneurose ', Jahrbuch der Psa.
Bd. IV, S. 596.
' To this may be added the grandmother's collectioQ of her teeth, and
the injury to the little girl with the catapult.
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 281
good-will of patients, who thoroughly grasp the seriousness and
unbearable character of their illness ; if actual provocation is pre-
sent, it becomes important to recognise this as it arises, and to
follow it with close attention. There is however a particular kind
of resistance which must be regarded as constitutional, and despite
intimate relation with the case of illness in hand it merits a cert-
ain independent interest. It appears at an earlier age than does
the disease, and plays a prominent part in the life of every healthy
individual. Our patient's behaviour was markedly reserved, and
as it appeared in the foreground, this provided many a tough
problem in the analysis. It always seemed likely to be related to
anal-erotic tendencies, and ultimately this association proved to be
very intimate. Consider how great an effort has to be devoted to
the education particularly of the anal sphincter in the case of
every child ; one must admit then that a psychic constellation
may well arise as a reaction to the pleasure-toned activity of this
occlusive muscle in consequence of its decadence along with that
of infantilism, and that its energy will depend on its exact
source. In a very penetrating study Ernest Jones ^ has established
the relation between the capacity to hate and the early and
forced conquest of control over sphincters ; without attempting
to tackle the question of this significant relationship, which leads
us into pathology, I would record my belief that in describ-
ing behaviour by the word 'reserved' [Verschlossenheit) we
reveal just such a relationship. The example of the patient is
particularly instructive in this respect in view of the way in which
we found that just the mechanical process of defaecation had been
vicrorously transmuted into character traits. I do not intend to
fc> "^
pursue the connection here, and will therefore not discuss the
psychological problem of this reserved behaviour. Nevertheless I
\ would mention that this characteristic ranks above many anal-
■ erotic configurations as regards importance and extent ; it appears
more amenable to change, and admits of greater malleability in
V later life than do the others. It not only embraces its opposite
I together with the whole series of intermediate steps, but is also
I intimately related to important mental characters. Thus we recog-
'; nise proud, modest, self-conscious, spiteful, etc., varieties of reserved
^; behaviour in connection with each of which a corresponding
I
! 1 'Hate and Anal Erotism in the Obsessional Neurosis', Papers onPsycho-
i Analysis, 1918, p. 540.
282 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
psychological type may be formulated^ The dissimulation of the
paranoiac is probably a pathological derivative of reserved behav-
iour.
I return once more to the prominent part played by anal
erotism in this case, since its relation to the other component in-
stincts is noteworthy on account of a particular circumstance. It
appeared that the former could draw to some extent on their co-
operation, and direct the libidinous complement which they could
contribute. I will summarise then in a few sentences what has pre-
viously been said. The oral instinct was traced down to a stage
at which it became more comprehensible from a phylogenetic point
of view. ' Observationism ' was entirely attached to the anal-erotic
object, similarly exhibitionism, the presence of which was demon-
strated by a memory of puberty, shame at carrying out defae-
cation in the open. The olfactory component need hardly be
mentioned, as its association in this connection is almost universal.
Even urethral-erotism is closely related to its partner in excretory
delights. Finally, we found that the expression of sadism was
moulded on anal erotism, partly by inversion as masochism, partly
by reaction-formation as pity. In consequence of its pre-eminence,
the anal-erotic instinct irresistably permeated its fellows. The
case is a model of penetration of individual instincts by a pre-
dominant component instinct, which is present in every neurosis,
and determines the configuration of infantile character. This
dynamic process is moreover of importance in another connection,
namely in relation to the narcissistic phase of libido development.
Freud holds that at this stage all component instincts have al-
ready achieved object-choice, but the object as yet coincides
with the Ego.2 If now, as in the case of our patient, the anal-
erotic component retains throughout its undue prominence, it may,
even with an appropriate disposition only, which was here how-
ever reinforced by the injury to the head, prevent the normal
breaking through beyond narcissism. Such we have witnessed. It
would seem that the whole process is not restricted in its applica-
tion to this case, but is typical, since we interpolate a sadistic-
* A less definite variety belongs to urethral-erotism, and this is probably
expressed in less material form, a characteristic common to everything
psychical that is rooted in this component instinct.
''Die Disposition zur Zwangsneurose', SammlungkleinerSchriftenzurNeu-
rosenlehre, 4. Folge, S. 118,
I
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 283
anal-erotic as penultimate stage of development, intermediate
ji I ' between narcissistic and genital stages, i It all tends to show how
significant anal erotism is in the general development of the
mind.
Every neurosis — or hysteria — may be regarded in a sense
J as an attempt to cope auto-erotically with ideas that have become
inaccessible to consciousness because of their dissociation from
reality; 2 in our patient they took the form of homosexual wish-
phantasies, and we may infer therefore from their consequences,
, namely the group of symptoms of the disease, that tlie anal-erotic
component too, which might have contributed to the assimilation
of such wishes, remained under the sway of narcissism. The ant-
agonism, which at bottom is the antagonism between libido and
Ego, has achieved consequence in another direction, namely that
of the castration-complex. It may be assumed, a priori, that a
passive-homosexual wish in a neurosis only realises itself when
the individual's narcissism is adapted to it. In what way then
does renunciation of penis and masculinity come about? It has
long been supposed to have to do with co-operation of con-
stitutionally determined anal erotism. In a very important paper *
Freud has indicated the fundamental features of the mechanism,
jt is primarily the interest in faeces (faeces = the first 'part of the
' body' which has to be renounced) which later becomes transferred
to the penis. If the former was very potent, it is able by itself,
by working up various impressions, including the castration-threat,
to lead to the idea that the penis is similarly something detachable
from the body. This idea approaches certainty directly the child's
sexual investigations lead to the discovery that women lack a
penis. Our patient could have discovered this when he was six
years old, when his eldest sister was born. If we take into account
his pre-occupation with anal-erotic phantasies current at that
time, we may take it that the absolutely typical thoughts described
above exercised his mind. I should like to call attention to two
facts which I have noticed in the analytical treatment of this
subject. It is surely not chance that most faeces-symbols are
also castration-symbols — such as, nails, hair, teeth, etc. — and this
> Freud : loc. cit.
' 2 Freud: Vorlesungen zur Eiiifiihrung in die Psychoanalyse, 1917. S. 424.
» ' LTber Triebumsetzungen, insbesondere der Analerotik ', Sammlung kleiner
Schriften zur Neurosenlehre, 4. Folge, 1918. ' ; *
■
284 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
circumstance by itself indicates that there are powerful common in-
fluences at work. More important still do I find the second fact,
which may, I suppose, be observed in every case of unconscious
passive homosexuality. In such there are as a rule no indications
of any psychical reaction against the threatened castration, and
one gets the impression that they easily adapt themselves to the
possibility of a loss of penis. This result is again to be ascribed
to the undue power of the anal-erotic tendency, which seems to
seize upon an experience with traumatic effect on the child's mind,
and work it up in such a direction. It follows that in general the
business of auto-erotism in childhood is not only preparatory, but
constructive in its widest sense.
I would not conclude discussion of the anal-erotic symptom-
complex without noting the patient's typical dreams, which pro-
vided sometimes difficult, but always valuable matter for analytic
efforts. Like the other symptoms, they made their appearance as
expressions of an almost inaccessible layer of the unconscious, and
their interpretation, where indeed this was possible, was met with
violent resistances and incredulity. Moreover they were extraordin-
arily polished and well proportioned, which I attributed to an innate
ability in productions of phantasy. The patient's grandfather and
father had been excellent raconteurs of fairy-tales, and they treas-
ured and carried on to the next generation the fine Hungarian
folk-lore. And this may explain why many a symbol played so
active a part not only in dreams, but in other unconscious pro-
ducts of this neurosis (seed and tooth symbolism, etc.). It was
just by means of these dreams that I was ultimately enabled to
circumvent the resistances, and to penetrate to the actual patho-
logical phantasies of the neurosis. Nevertheless, I am under the
impression that it was more actual experiences linked together
like a chain than the power of the dream symbolism that event-
ually forced the patient to insight, and to relinquishing his in-
effective infantile libido-position. This is perhaps best illustrated
by examples, the explanation of which is involved in the whole
history of the case, but I will limit myself here to the reproduct-
ion of two very fine examples of his dreams.
Dream I. He was ascending a hill, on which stood a ruin.
At the top he lay down in the shade and gazed far and wide
over the country, till he fell asleep from weariness. Later, he was
woken by a bald old man leaning on a stick, looking at him.
I
A MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS PHANTASY OF PREGNANCY 285
I He felt as if he had woken him by touching him with the stick
I or his hand. The old man asked him then why he was frittering
away his day, when he might have been doing something useful.
As he actually had no plans, he asked the old fellow for advice.
The latter pointed with his stick towards the ruin and said, therein
was situated a well, down which he was just to climb and percuss
its walls. If he found a hollow place, he was to open it, and he
would get the reward for his labours. While he was considering
the words of the old man, the latter disappeared. He followed. the ad-
vice, stepped into the well, and discovered a secret chamber
filled with jugs, old armour, and coins. All the objects were
deeply smothered in mildew.
Dream II. An unknown friend invited him to come to his
farm.* There he showed him first the stabling, where one could
see animals for breeding arranged in splendid order, and labelled
' according to name and pedigree. In a small nitch, separated oflf,
he saw a great number of hens' eggs covered with straw. He
took up a strikingly large bean-shaped sample, and examined it
with the greatest astonishment, since there were isolated letters
on it, which were becoming clearer and clearer. On his friend's
return, he hastily replaced the egg. They then went out into the
yard, where animals reminiscent of rats were being reared in a
pen-like enclosure. They gave out an intolerable odour. The whole
farm was on a ridge ;' below lay a deserted churchyard with a
meadow in its middle. Under a tree he saw a grave fallen in,
and a chapel near it. He went in to this with his friend, and to
the right and left of the gangway were placed children's coffins,
I and on their lids could be seen modelled and painted, figures
representing the dead. He stepped through a glass door to the
inner chamber, where stood the adult's coffins. As he turned
round by chance, and looked back through the glass door, he
saw that the dead children were dancing ; directly they saw him
however, they lay down again in their places. He was startled,
and could not believe his eyes, and therefore tried again. Every
time he found the children dancing and lying down again as soon
as he looked at them. In the meantime the friend had disappear-
ed, and he was seized with intense dread since he could only
emerge in to the open through that gangway.
» The dream heralded the phase of his first understanding of his own
disease. The unknown one is doubtless the doctor.
\
A
286 MICHAEL JOSEPH EISLER
The analysis was rich in such dreams, in which I had to
recognise very typical projections of his anal-erotic phantasies.
These by themselves allowed a certain view to be taken of the
diagnosis, and this was more and more confirmed, finding secure
support from the actual memories.
I will now attempt a brief survey of the case. At the
beginning of analytic treatment, the case appeared one of hysteria
due to shock. Gradually it became evident that not the actual
accident, but an unimportant experience in hospital treatment
(X-ray episode), the significance of which had been reinforced by
important experiences in childhood and puberty, undoubtedly
counted as the immediate determining motive of the illness. It
was the business of the symptom that arose from this to indulge
a passive homosexual wish-phantasy, and at the same time the
neurosis mobilised a multitude of anal-erotic memory-traces wich
took the lead in giving shape to the symptom. A memory became
operative in the attack, namely that of the childbirth observed in
childhood, which, ranking as an outstanding experience, had al-
ready in its time led to powerful repression of allied memory-
traces (his own mother's frequent childbirths) of even earlier
years. These actual infantile experiences were closely bound up
with the predominant activity of one of the component instincts.
The immense contribution of anal erotism to the patient's sexual
constitution was discovered, and by ascertaining piecemeal its
former and current derivatives, the libidinous fixations and their
transmutations into character traits, we eventually obtained access
on the one hand to the elementary sources from which the neuro-
sis derived its energy, and on the other achieved the gradual
dissolution of the repressions that had been pathogenic. Although
the dispositional factor of the libido had remained sufficiently
prominent to contend against normal sexual development, the
other symptoms of the disease had become so unbearable that
they compelled him to show the necessary patience and endurance
to put the analytic treatment through to its end, and this made
a satisfactory result possible. The peculiar psychical material that
came to light must stand as evidence of the degree of thorough-
ness with which I treated the case.
V
.
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD-ANALYSIS i
by ■
H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH, Vienna.
•The answer to technical problems in psycho-analytic practice is never
obvious. '
Freud : Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosenlehre, IV. Folge.
The analysis both of the child and of the adult has the same
end and object; namely, the restoration of the psyche to health
and equilibrium which have been endangered through influences
known and unknown.
The task of the physician is fulfilled when a cure has been
effected, no matter what ethical and social standards the patient
pursues; it suffices that the individual becomes once more adapted
to life and his vocation, and that he is no longer liable to suc-
cumb to the demands and disappointments of life.
The curative and educative work of analysis does not consist
only in freeing the young creature from his sufferings, it must also
furnish him with moral and aesthetic values. The object of such -
curative and educative treatment is not the mature man who when
freed is able to take responsibility for his own actions: but the
child the adolescent, that is human beings who are still in the
developing stage, who have to be strengthened through the educa-
tive guidance of the analyst, in order to become human beings
with strong wills and definite aims. He who is both analyst and
educator must never forget that the aim of child-analysis is
character-analysis — in other words, education.
The peculiarity of the child-psyche, its special relationship to
the outside world, necessitates a special technique for its analysis.
There are three considerations of fundamental importance: J
1. The child does not come of his own accord to the
> Read before the Sixth International Psycho-Analytical Congress at the
Hague, September 1920. Translated by R. Gabler and Barbara Low.
287 20
288 H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
analyst, as the grown-up does, but owing to the wish of his par-
ents and only then (and herein he resembles the grown-up) when
all other means have proved futile.
2. The child is in the midst of the very experiences
which are causing his illness. The grown-up suffers from past ex-
periences, the child from present ones; and his ever-changing
experiences create a perpetually-changing relationship between him-
self and his surroundings.
3. The child, unlike the adult man (but very often in
accordan^ce with the attitude of women patients), has no desire at
all to change himself or to give up his present attitude towards
his external surroundings. His 'naughtiness' creates in him a sense
of great self-importance, indeed a feeling of omnipotence, owing to
which he tyrannizes over the people who surround him, and his
narcissism which rejoices in the continual attention which he
wins from his surroundings will not allow him to give up his
wickedness. To the child with strong sadistic tendencies as well
as to the child with pronounced masochism, constantly recurring
outbursts of fury and punishments are essential to his neurotic
personality. We must also include those fortunate natures who
adapt themselves even as children to every different phase of life,
who remember only the pleasure of 'making it up' in the con-
tinual quarrels of childhood, and who take a temporary exile
in a boarding-school as a pleasant change — we mean, in short,
those who can adapt themselves to every change in their envir-
onment.
For instance, a small boy, a habitual pilferer, whom I had for
treatment, took all his experiences in school and at home just as
'a lark' and squared his conscience in regard to* his complete
failure at school with the reflection: 'My father did not like learn-
ing either, and yet we are doing so well.' Another twelve-year
old boy, a little truant, whom I analysed in the Vienna children's
clinic, enjoyed his stay there so much, on account of the nice food
he got, that in spite of his often expressed longing for his parents,
he had no desire whatever to depart.
Experience has taught me that girls at the age of puberty are
more helpless when confronted by conflicts in the home hfe, and
more sensitive to them, than are boys of the same age. The ex-
planation of this lies partly in the fact that the girl has stronger
links with her home Hfe on account of her education aiming more
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 289
at repression, partly in the fact that she has less power to over-
come, by way of sublimation, the incestuous impulses which are
ready to burst out at this critical period.
In the case of phobia in a five year old boy, Freud has shown
us the method (and this has become the basis of psycho-analytic
child-tlierapy) by which we can throw light on tliese psychic
depths in a small child where the libidinous stirrings change into
childish anxiety. At. this stage of hfe an analysis similar to the
analytic treatment of the adult is not possible. One can only apply
1 educational methods founded on psycho-analytical knowledge. A
full understanding of the child's world of thoughts and feelings
will call out its unlimited confidence, and thus a way is discovered
to safeguard the child from various errors and injuries. As the
training of the young child, both physical and mental, rests
especially with women, it becomes essential tliat we should train
understanding and kind-hearted women for educational psycho-
analytic work.
A proper analysis according to psycho-analytical principles can
only be carried out after the seventh or eighth year. But even
with children at this early age tlie analyst must, as I will show
later, turn aside from the usual routine, and satisfy himself with part-
ial results, where he thinks that the child might be intimidated
by too powerful a stirring-up of his feelings and ideas, or that
too high demands upon his powers of assimilation are being made,
or that his soul is disturbed instead of freed.
Generally speaking, there are two groups of these child-patients ;
namely, those who know from the beginning, or soon learn, in
what the treatment consists, its aim and object, and those others
who owing to their tender age, or to the fact that they do not
suifer personally from their symptoms (for example, in the case of
marked homosexual tendencies) or owing to individual factors
(such as a feeble constitution) cannot be enlightened as to the ob-
ject of the analytic treatment Such children can be safely left to
the idea that the analyst spends these hours with them in order
to communicate some knowledge to them or to wean them from
some misbehaviour, or to play with them, or from a special inter-
est in them.
For instance a delicate thirteen year old boy did not doubt for
a moment that I was, as his mother said, a friend of his father who
was in the war, and that I came to wish the youngster Many
' 20*
290 H, VON HUG-HELLMUTH
Happy Returns of the Day. As he had an impediment in his
speech he also accepted quite trustingly the further explanation
that I would teach him to speak distinctly, and he actually tried
himself to speak more clearly.
The mother of an eleven year old boy, who lived completely
iB his phantasies and dreams, chose, without my sanction, a form
of introduction which I thought might have proved harmful. She
said that a friend of hers was very much interested in children's
dreams and would like him to talk to her about his own. How-
ever the course of the analysis convinced me that no harm had
been done, for the somewhat artificial accounts of dreams given
in the beginning were after all only reflections of his conscious
and unconscious day-dreams.
No rule can be laid down for the appropriate moment to tell
the patient the aim of these talks; experience and personal tact
are the only reliable guides.
In close connection with the above matter is the formulating
of the obligations which must be carried out by the adult patient
at the beginning as a sine qua non if a cure is to be effected.
Right from the beginning one understands that in the case of the
second type of psycho-analytic patients one must abandon the de-
mand for absolute openness, and uncensored expression of every-
thing which comes into the mind, and instead put forward this
obligation only at some favourable opportunity. In the case of the
first-mentioned group, however, those more mature young people
who often have already had instruction concerning psycho-ana-
lysis from some other member of the family who has already
undergone treatment, it is often suitable in the very first hour to
demand that they shall be completely frank and shall not talk
over the treatment with their comrades, their brothers and sisters,
or other members of the family. Of course, in connection with
this enjoining of secrecy, we must not overlook that commands
and prohibitions are the very means of tempting the young to
transgress.
The period of time devoted to the child's analysis is generally
conditioned by the attendance at school, which the parents do
ot want on any account to be shortened. Apart from the few
cases where the young patient has special difficulties in preserving
the continuity, I have always found that three or four hours a
week, if the analysis is carried on long enough, leads to
<N
'*
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD-ANALYSI S 291
successful results. An exact keeping to time appears to me
of the greatest importance. It involves a self-education which the
young person must undergo. Sometimes it needs strong self-
control to reject some important communication which the child
has kept back till the end of the hour, but to concede to such
demands would mean that the patient was allowed to get the
upper hand.
While the educative analysis of children of more mature age
(say from fourteen to eighteen) resembles more that of the grown-
up — for in the very first hours, we can speak of the factors in
the treatment, of positive and negative transference, of resistance,
and of the significance of the unconscious psychic tendencies
in the whole of our experience — the analysis of the younger or
backward child proceeds on different lines from the beginning.
I consider it inadvisable to take the young patient to the con-
sultation with the analyst. The child feels himself exposed and
humiliated while he waits in another room during the consult-
ation, and often this creates in him excitement, may be anxiety,
resentment, defiance, shame, all of which endangers the subsequent
treatment, or at least makes the beginning much more difficult. If one
has to break down a resistance before getting an opportunity to
build abridge of mutual understanding, one is, so to speak, con-
fronted with a task similar to that of clearing away a heap of
debris which lies at the other side of a yawning chasm.
Just as the first meeting between the analyst and the young
patient should take place in the latter's home, so should it be
with the treatment itself. The analysis must go on independently
of the whims of the patient, who can very cleverly contrive to
have a slight indisposition which prevents him coming, or arriving
in time, or he may play truant in tlie analysis hour. The child
not only lacks interest in the money problem (which for the
grown-up is a continual stimulus to make him continue the treat-
ment uninterruptedly), but in addition he knows tliat he has an
opportunity of causing his parents expense and of satisfying his
own defiance and desires for revenge. Of course, every child
when at the height of a positive transference tries to transfer the
analysis to the home of the analyst; but I have always gained the
conviction that even when external circumstances demanded this
change of place, such a change proved not to be lasting. How-
ever much the time and energy of the analyst is burdened by
292 H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
this demand, since he can only see daily half the number of
patients as compared with those treated by his medical colleagues,
and although an absolutely undisturbed and private talk in the
patient's own house is difficult to obtain, nevertheless these evils
seem to me trifling compared with the greater one of letting the
child decide the external conditions of the analysis. Anotlier con-
sideration is that the parents, in spite of all- their devotion, very
soon feel that chaperoning of the child to and from the analyst's
house becomes impossible and this difficulty is used as a reason
for terminating the treatment — a situation well-known to every
child-analyst.
However favourable may be a temporary absence from home
for difficult children, nevertheless I have my doubts as to the
value of psycho-analytic treatment for them in any kind of instit-
ution, whether they are boarders or day-pupils, for one reason be-
cause the child finds the necessity for secrecy in a situation where
he feels himself more important than his comrades very difficult
to endure, and for another, because he easily becomes a target
for their ridicule when he has to have a special 'treatment hour',
about the aim and object of which the other children cannot ob-
tain information. What the treatment will be like in future happier
times when perhaps some of my ideas for the founding of psycho-
analytic homes for young children have been realized I cannot
foretell, but I believe that it will need quite special tact, great
educational skill and experience, to meet successfully the great
difficulties which will arise in psycho-analytic treatment owing to
collective life. The jealousy among the patients themselves, the
making of comparisons not always favourable to one's own ana-
lyst, the exchange of confidences between the children about their
analysis which cannot be prevented — all these things are diffi-
culties which must not be underrated. Nevertheless, I believe that
the creation of psycho-analytic 'homes' will either solve the prob-
lem of the guidance of the 'difficult' child which so many parents
and schools fail in, or at least make the problem easier.
An important difference between the analysis of the child and
of the grown-up results from what seems a merely external cir-
cumstance; namely, whether the patient should lie down or sit up
during treatment. For the very juvenile patient, this question is
already answered by the limitations which his age imposes. But
also in the case of the older child the notion of 'lying down'
i:
I?
i
I ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD-ANALYSIS 293
i produces in the child an anxiety-situation. To lie down awakens
in the child the memory of some real or imagined scene of being
overpowered: one will be afraid of a beating, another of an
operation, and both are overcome by their secret feeling of guilt,
a fear of castration. ■Adolescent patients imagine themselves while
lying down to be under hypnosis and exposed to rape. Seduction
phantasies of both homosexual and heterosexual nature which
are projected on to the analyst play a great part witlK so-called
'nervous' boys and girls when they have to lie down.
A fifteen-year old boy who came for my educative treatment
on account of a serious phobia of thunderstorms and earthquakes,
confessed to me in the course of analysis that he would certainly
have resisted the treatment if he had been obliged to lie down on
/ ' the sofa which, he had heard, a family acquaintance had had to
do in his analysis, for he was in continual dread of being hypnot-
ized. As a matter of fact this boy had worked himself into such
a serious condition of excitement during a consultation with a
nerve specialist at home, who tried to hypnotize him, that he
cried out 'Pohce' and iinally dashed out of the house in a panic
into the street.'
I have never noticed that the success of the analysis is in any
way imperilled by the fact that the analyst faces the patient.
The first hour in treatment is of the utmost importance; it is
the opportunity for establishing a rapport with the young creature,
and for 'breaking the ice'. It causes much strain and stress to
the beginner and opens up even to the experienced analyst nearly
always new methods of approach and new guiding lines. But no
rules and no programme can be laid down; the intellectual devel-
opment, the age, and the temperament of the patient must decide
which course to pursue.
In the case of more mature patients, often the right course is
for the analyst to confess himself as such openly, in order to gain
their confidence whole heartedly.
The mother of a nervous girl of fourteen introduced me to
her daughter as a friend whom she had not seen for many years,
but the girl was not to be deceived by this; after a little while
she enquired: 'But who are you really?' My honest explanation,
namely, that I was interested in young people who find Hfe very
difficult and are unable to grapple with it, and that I should like
to help her, too, to get on better with her mother, had the de-
294 H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
sired effect. The girl became strongly attached to me and came
to me for advice about all matters which disturbed her, as to
her 'second and real mother'.
Sometimes, in the case of those patients who obstinately shut
themselves up, a ruse is helpful. For example, a nine year old
boy with suicidal impulses, during the first hour took not the
slightest notice of me, but simply laid his head on the table and
made no response to any remark. A fly passing close to my face
suggested to me the idea of pretending that I had got something
in my eye. At once the boy, who always wished to be in the
limehght, jumped up, saying: 'Please let me see, I will get it out;
but you must not rub your eye.' Thus, with his proffered help
the ice was broken, because he felt himself of use to me. Every
time, after this, when a strong resistance made him retire into
silence, I had only to ask for his advice or his help, and the ana-
lysis once more progressed favourably.
A ruse, which, in my opinion, never fails, is to tell the young
patient about the misdeeds of other children. As one has already
been sufficiently informed by the parents about the misdemeanours
and peculiarities of one's little patient, one need not be afraid of
inciting the child, by such accounts of others, to similar naughti-
ness which he has not indulged in up to the present. No child
has so far been harmed either in a sexual, or any other way, by
a properly-conducted analysis. Though a temporary increase in
bad behaviour may lead the layman to such an idea, the analyst
is able to appreciate it as a sign of progress.
The reaction of the child to this kind of beginning may be of
three types. Often the patient reacts with a story of similar mis-
deeds, which at first are described as having been done by another
child, and only later on admitted as his own. Or secondly he may
reply with a fierce denial: 'I have never done such things!' From
the analysis of the grown-up, we are aware that such emphatic
denials are tantamount to admissions. Thirdly, the child may accept
the information with absolute indifference. Then we can scarcely
be wrong in assuming that the parents have misunderstood some-
thing in the behaviour of the child, or that behind the known
facts something more is hidden.
When dealing with children of seven or eight years of age,
the analyst can often pave the way by sharing in the play activi-
ties, and thus he can recognise several symptoms, peculiar habits,
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 295
and character traits; and in the case of these very young patients,
very often play will enact an important part throughout the whole
treatment.
A seven year old boy, who suffered from severe insomnia
accompanied with compulsive laughter and tic, which made me
suspect he had watched the parental sex-life, manifested during
daytime complete apathy: he lay on the carpet for hours without
speaking or playing; he ate a great deal but without enjoyment
or selection, and apparently *tiad lost quite suddenly his former
strongly-marked desire for caresses. In the analysis he would allow
me to play with his toys for the whole hour, with scarcely any
reaction on his part, and seldom gave me answer, so that it was
difficult to decide whether he had taken in at all that I said. In
one of the first treatment hours I told him about a little boy who
would not go to sleep at night, and made such a noise that his
parents could not sleep either. I told also how little Rudi made
a noise too in the afternoons when his father wanted to rest; so
his father became angry and Rudi was whipped (Little Hans's
reaction to this was to run to the sideboard and take down a
'Krampus' ^ and to beat me on tlie arm, saying: ' You are naughty!').
I went on to tell how Rudi was then cross with his father, and
wished his father were somewliere else (To this the reaction was:
*My father is at the war'. Actually his father, an officer of high
ff rank, was on active service throughout the war, and had only
p| returned to his family in Vienna on short leave). Suddenly Hans
ti| took his litde gun and said: 'Pufif, puff.'
The next day his death-wishes towards his father showed
themselves more clearly. He was playing with his toy motor-car
and several times ran over the chauffeur, whom I had made out
to be little RudL's father. I pretended to telephone the news of his
father's accident to the little boy. Rudi was supposed to weep
bitterly at the news, and then I said that although Rudi had for-
merly wished his strict father away, now he felt very sad, because
in spite of this wish, he really loved his father very much. The
f§ reaction of Uttle Hans was very characteristic; he listened to me,
lying on the floor, asking me eagerly now and then, 'What does
little Rudi do next?' Suddenly he jumped up and ran out of the
room. On the following day he reacted in the same way when
our game was repeated, at his request. In his sudden going out
* The dressed-up figure of a little man, holding a birch-rod.
: 8
i
i
296 H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
of the room, we can see clearly the working of the unconscious.
It also shows us an important difference in the course of psychic
functionings in the grown-up and in the child. Whereas in the ana-
lysis of the adult, we aim at bringing about full insight into un-
conscious impulses and feelings, in the case of a child, this kind
of avowal expressed, without words, in a symbolic act, is quite
sufficient. We learn, indeed, from the analysis of the child that in
him the psychic events take place in quite different layers from
those of the grown-up, that they may be more closely or more
remotely connected with each other and that in the child many
impressions leave clearly-marked traces in spite of never having
reached the threshold of consciousness. Even analysis does not
make conscious these fragmentary memories of 'primordial scenes '^
the blending of new impressions with these former takes place,
perhaps, in the preconscious, and it is left to later experiences at
a higher stage of development to bring them into consciousness.
This would supply a further explanation of the fact that the very
earliest impressions which are very much alike for all human beings
(such for example, as the methods of upbringing) lay the foundation
for neurosis in some whilst others pass through them unharmed.
It is most rare for the young patient to put out his psychic
feelers, or to talk freely during the first treatment hour, since he
is full of mistrust towards his analyst, who is the father- or mother-
imago, unless it so happens that an extreme bitterness against his
parents or brothers and sisters compels the child to break out
into complaints and abuse. In such case, it is necessary to mani-
fest to the young patient the greatest forbearance and a full con^
sideration of his troubles.
The communications or symptomatic actions in the first treatment
hour are of the greatest importance, for they demonstrate the nuc-
lear-complex of the infantile neurosis.
A fifteen year old boy came to me for analytic treatment on
account of severe anxiety conditions, which he himself speedily
declared to be 'anxiety of anxiety'. The first thing he said was:
* In our form at school, the two best pupils are Jews, I come next,
and again after that, the next best are Jews, and the rest are
Gentiles.' By this formulation the boy betrayed his ever-gnawing
feeling of reproach against the father, who owing to marriage with
a Gentile, had become a convert from Judaism to Protestantism.
» Cf. Freud: 'A Child is being Beaten", T\i\& Journal, Vol. I, p. 380.
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 297
Little Hans, to whom we are indebted for valuable insight
into the mechanism of the child's psychic functioning, was aroused
from his complete apathy by the following game: I saw in the
looking-glass that he poked his finger into his nose, and I said:
'Oh dear, whatever is Hans doing? I don't want to see such a
sight!* Whereupon he stood in front of the mirror, smiling
roguishly, and said. 'Don't look!' poking his finger again into
his nose. Of course he expects me to forbid him and untiringly
repeats this game, only exchanging his nose-poking for putting
out his tongue. This game symbolizes to him the oft-experienced
strictness of his father which he tries to evade by keeping secret
his little misdeed.
A sixteen-year old girl suffered in a marked degree from in-
feriority feelings, owing to squinting. She covered up spontan-
eously my spectacles which lay on the table— a symptomatic
action which revealed that she was unwilling to be reminded of
eyes or their abnormalities. She admitted to me later on that this
defect of mine had for a long time disturbed her aifectionate
relations towards me.
A ten year old boy, who was rather a failure at his work
owing to his very extreme habit of phantasying, in tlie first treat-
ment hour informed me how greatly he disliked the pose of the
hero in a performance of 'Lohengrin' which he had witnessed"
He ostentatiously turned his back towards me, imitating the
singer's position, declaring it unsuitable for a performer on the
stage, asking me : ' Surely, Doctor, an actor should not stand
in such a position in front of the public.?' After a short
course of analysis, my original suspicion was confirmed, |
namely, that the boy was suffering from a strongly repressed
exhibitionism.
The first communication of a fourteen year old girl, who was ■ '
harrassed by painful broodings, was a very contemptuous criti-
cism of the geographical teaching which she received at the age
of ten or eleven, which consisted of continual repetition about
'climate' and even now in the high school it was tlie same subject
all over again: climate, tlie position of the sun and its shadow —
these were pursued witli the same persistency. 'Whatever is the
object of teaching the movements of the sun to an eleven year
old child who cares nothing about the subject,' and so forth —
^this complaint filled up the whole hour of treatment with the
m
298
H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
greatest monotony, and in the subsequent hours she continually
returned to this subject, until at last was revealed the connection
between tliis question and what was really the girl's main inter-
est — sexual intercourse between human beings. In a roundabout
way (first under the guise of her great liking for horses— she
was greatly interested in books on horse-breeding — then of her
interest in descriptions of travels and the love relations of foreign
peoples) the main preoccupation finally emerged: *For how long
a period do the men and women of foreign races have intimate
relations with one another' (having in mind her own father and
mother).
The demand for 'active therapy' which is made for the ana-
lysis of the adult is also of importance in child-analysis. It is
certainly advisable for quite « number of patients that during the
course of analysis they should be given small tasks to perform.
Especially in tlie case of the patient who suffers from strong in-
feriority feelings, if a due measure of work be demanded of him,
his self-confidence will be strengthened.
The shy, dependent weak boy (of whom I spoke above) who
had difficulty with his speech and suffered a great deal from the
ridicule of street-boys, surprised his grandfather after a six months
treatment by his manly self-reliant behaviour with his seniors. The
'boy, who formerly would scarcely go outside the house, improved
so much by analysis that he joined in walks, and went along,
first for me, then for his mother, to execute little commissions
for us — which he carried out very successfully.
More important than making positive requests is the avoidance,
■ as far as possible, of any direct prohibitions, and, again, more
valuable than both prohibitions and commissions, is talking over
things together. This mutual weighing up of the pros and cons
of a siven situation will influence the self-confidence of the patient
repressed by his inferiority feelings.
No more for the child than for the adult can a programme
for the course of analysis be laid down. Kind and sympathetic
attention, encouraging occasionally, ^joking words at the right mom-
ent, a loving interest in all the trifles which are by no means
trifles to the child, indicate the way to gain the full confidence
of the young creature. In addition, to forget nothing and to con-
fuse nothing said in previous sittings — this completes the de-
mands made by the child upon the analyst. How far, and when,
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 299
free association should be made use of, can only be decided as
the circumstances arise. So far as my own experience goes, Abra-
ham's remark that older people need more guidance in analysis
than the younger ones holds good for both the young child and
the adolescent. Perhaps we would add that in the case of these
latter, greater care has to be used than with the grown-up. True,
it is difficult to disentangle deep-rooted and rigid ideas and feel-
ings, but the greater plasticity of the youthful mind lends itself
easily to the danger of unintended suggestion instead of yielding
to the patient the clearest possible insight. Over and over again
I have been able to prove to myself that children know far more
about the things that go on in their surroundings than we grown-
ups, owing to our anxious solicitude, wish to admit. Does it not
sound almost tragi-comic to receive unexpectedly the confession
of "^an eleven-year old girl (whose repeated questions about the
sexual act I have carefully tried to answer step by step) that when
she was five her mother enticed her to look through the keyhole
and tlius spy on her father when having intercourse with a pro-
stitute !
Of course, dreams play their part in child-analysis also, but
we need not fear, any more than in the case of adults, that resist-
ance will produce a more intense or imaginary dream-experience.
The so-called night-dream signifies only a day-dream to which
perhaps the child would never otherwise give expression. And
here I wish to emphasize the difficulty there is in getting some
children to speak out freely all their ideas because they cannot
free themselves from the habit fixed by the daily teaching, namely:
'not to talk nonsense' and so forth.
Although naturally in child-analysis technical expressions, such
as the OEdipus and castration-complex, exhibitionism, etc. cannot
be made use of, nevertheless the real facts must be made clear.
Even in the case of a very young patient it is necessary to explain
certain phenomena in the course of treatment. He will quite easily
understand the meaning of 'resistance' if first it is explained to
him in connection with 'the negative transference', that is, his
refusal to speak out of a spirit of defiance; and later in connection
with the 'positive transference', that is, his feeling of shame at
making a confession to the analyst which is humiliating to himself
or his family; and in the end he will understand the readily acquired
phrase: 'Now I have no more to say.'
.
300 , H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
Out of the resistance which expresses Itself in the form of
unwiUingness to humiUate his family we can find a way of ex-
planation concerning the negative transference, which is generally
niuch more readily accepted than the idea of the positive trans-
ference. Discussion about this latter, even when it is quite clearly
recognised, demands special caution in formulating it, because at
bottom the child is unwilling to exchange his own parents for
any stranger, even when there is every good reason for so doing.
In spite of this, however, the child's first attitude at the beginning
of the treatment is generally a strong positive transference, owing
to the fact that the analyst, by sympathetic and dispassionate
listening, realizes the child's secret father — or mother — ideal.
Of course he makes use of this attitude at once against his own
family. This results in those intensely irritating remarks made by
the child to his people, such as: 'Doctor said I need not do this
or that', or, 'I must ask Doctor first about this'. The child takes
for granted that the analyst by listening to his complaints in the
treatment hour, is in agreement with him, and from this he builds
up his phantasies and attributes to them the value of reality. Also
the juvenile patient is continually ready to plot against his parents,
and in this he relies upon the support of his analyst. The child,
just like the grown-up, when at the height of his positive trans-
ference, is unwilling to end the treatment.
The negative transference usually appears first in the form of
a fear of being deceived. For everytliing they say, they demand
oaths of secrecy, for their mistrust towards the analyst is the prod-
uct both of unwillingness to lay themselves bare, and of the
countless disappointments which even the most favourable home
conditions provide for the child from his earliest years. This is also
the reason why he anxiously and jealously watches the interviews
between the analyst and his parents and tries to overhear them
and shorten them.
We know what an important part is played in the child's
psychic life by sexuality, and its observation, and by the diverting
of this childish interest by the family circle. The child is accustomed
to get very unsatisfactory answers from bis parents and other
grown-up members of the family to the riddle of sex, and therefore
he reacts in two ways to the straight-forward talk in the analysis
about sexual matters. He feels more important, like a grown-up man,
and tries hard to reward the analyst's frankness by greater friend-
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 301
ship: on the other hand, as soon as stronger resistance sets in,
he is at once ready (owing to his eariier repressions) to beUttle
the analyst because he has talked on tabooed matters. So strong
with the child is the parental authority and the first educational
influence, that he expects the same claims to be made upon him-
self, and the same outlook in life, from every grown-up who is
interested in him. To him the analyst embodies, but in much
stronger form than to the adult, the father- or mo\her-imag-o.
On that account it takes a long time before he can feel convinced
that the analyst does not take the parent's part, and that he can
expect from the analyst full freedom and complete understanding
for all his utterances. The child's over-estimation of authority in
both positive and negative sense, makes the analysis difficult, for
the patient watches with a keen eye for any defect in the ana-
lyst which will give him an excuse for gainsaying his belief in
authority. And the young person, especially the child, thinks he
finds this wished-for defect in the analyst's frank talk about sexual
problems, and therefore in this phase of the treatment the ambi-
valency of the patient towards his guide and adviser is most
apparent. The notable difference between his parents as they are
in reality and their image in his phantasy re-awakens once more
in its original intensity the very earliest child-wish, namely, that
his little heart should once more be able to confide in his father
and mother and witli this all the old feelings of early disappoint-
ment are revived. Owing to this unavoidable conflict which has
its foundation in the childish memories of the young soul, and in
its attitude to the analyst, arise the fundamental demands made
upon the latter by the patient. The chief thing in the analysis of
children and young people is the analyst's power of intuition in
regard to the sufferer. It does not matter so much whether many
complexes are made conscious to the young patient, or how much
'insight' he gains, the reaction is sufficient at the beginning. Often,
much later, some chance word from the child shows that he has
preserved and appreciated at its true value the explanation which
he had at an earlier stage. But this acceptance does not take place
by means of conscious work: a great part of the psycho-analytic
process in the child takes place in his unconscious, and contrary
to the case of the grown-up, it remains permanently there, and
only a change in his behaviour proves to the analyst that his
trouble has not been in vain. In my experience, it is those children
302
H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
whose seeming compliance might tempt one to satisfaction, who
are the most difficult type for treatment: they are the well-drilled
kind, who say 'yes' to everything, but in their hearts say 'no'
and act accordingly.
Intuition and patience, these are the foundations which must
be laid from the first meeting witli the young patient, in order
that confidence may rest on solid ground.
An important factor in child-analysis is the relationship be-
tween the analyst and the young patient's family. One might think
that in this respect the analyst-educator would have an advantage
over his medical colleagues, since the child comes for treatment
owing to the parents' wish, whereas the adult comes of his own
accord, very often quite against the wish of his family. Unfortun-
ately this idea is quite incorrect. In the case of the child as well,
psycho-analysis is looked upon as the last resource, and the parents,
who have found all other educational measures fail, have a good
deal of mistrust even of psycho-analysis. In spite of this, they
expect a 'miraculous cure' which shall remedy in the course of days
the mistakes of years. And the relatives cling to this expectation, in spite
of the analyst's quite explicit information that the duration of the treat-
ment cannot be fixed in advance because it is dependent upon the in-
dividual character of the child, but that it will certainly stretch
over several months. I have proved over and over again that the
relatives from the very beginning of the treatment have privately
settled in their own minds a time-limit, and this tliey maintain,
incapable of sufficient insight to understand that to break off treat-
ment half-way through means waste of time, trouble, and money.
Of course, the psycho-analytic treatment itself is held responsible
for the consequence of the premature breaking-off, namely, that
there is a considerable intensification of the original trouble— and
this is produced by the child (in part consciously, in part uncon-
sciously) owing to his revolt against the loss of treatment which
though at first compulsory has become indispensable to him. The
parents' criticism of the treatment is made more poignant owing
o their painful consciousness, mingled with shame, anxiety and
bitterness, of having failed in regard to their children's successful
training. In addition the knowledge that the analysis reveals all the
mistakes made in the upbringing of the child in spite of the best
intentions, and that the analyst obtains an insight (very undesir-
able from the parent's point of view, into intimate family affairs
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 303
creates in most parents distrustful and anxious feelings. This reluct-
ance to lay bare family affairs proves a greater hindrance in the
case of child-analysis than in the case of the adult, for the latter
is willing to sacrifice, for the sake of his own recovery, the con-
sideration he holds for his family. Another difficulty arises from the
over-anxiety of the parents to further and hasten the analysis by their
co-operation. The mothers, at all events, nearly always show a desire to
make use of 'active therapy'. It is terribly difficult to convince them
that their work lies in quite another direction and that they are
really acting as helpers if they show the child during the treat-
ment the greatest possible measure of patience and forbearance.
They must develop the understanding that the young mind during
the analysis has to go through a process of re-crystallization
during which first the old values are destroyed; and this destruct-
ive process cannot take place without disturbances, and these shocks
have an outlet in an increase of the very difficulties and pecul-
iarities which have to be eliminated. Quite usually after a striking
temporary improvement in the symptoms (arousing in the parents
premature expectation of cure in a few weeks or even hours in
spite of the analyst's emphatic warning as to the duration of the
analysis) a marked change for the worse takes place. Some children
rebel more violently than ever against the parents' rules and regu-
lations: others who have failed in their work owing to their ex-
treme phantasy-life, will take advantage of the unwonted freedom
to express now without check their secret thoughts and feelings.
They lose themselves in their day-dreams, and for the time being,
they turn away from their work more completely than before.
This apparent deterioration in the outward behaviour of the child,
which reveals his psychic condition, is regarded quite differently
by the parents and by the analyst: the latter sees in it a good
sign for the further progress of the analysis.
It is not easy to convince the parents that the renunciation
of the desire for the children's success in work during the pro-
cess of analysis holds out the promise of that very success when
the treatment is over. They are very unwilling to allow as much
importance to a psychic trouble as to a physical one. Just as no
father would think of sending his child to school when suffering
from pneumonia, so no demands must be made for study from
the child suffering psychically.
The narcissism of the parents explains their extreme jealousy.
r^
304 H. VON HUG-HELLMUTH
experienced especially by the mother, when they see their child
so ardently attaching himself to tlie analyst. In this connection an
important task devolves upon the analyst who has to explain to
the mother that the positive transference is a passing phenomea
but one necessary to the success of the analysis, and in no way de-
prives her permanently of Ijer child's love.
In spite of the difficulties which prevent the relations between.
the parents and analyst being so friendly as might be desirable
in the interests of the child, this relationship is inevitable. It is a
legitimate demand on the part of the parents and furthers the
treatment. For the child passes over, instinctively and, unlike the
adult, without conscious criticism, everything which has no 'feel-
ing-tone' for him and which is settled and done with. Conse-
quently, very often we learn nothing in the analysis of difficulties
at home or at school, because the child does not feel the need
to revise tliese scenes, and his interest in them disappears as sooa
as they have played their part according to his expectations. la
addition we must not forget that the child consciously also keeps
secrets. In order to ascertain some special date, or the accuracy
of some memory, it is sometimes useful to question the parents;
and further it is valuable for obtaining an insight into the earliest
stage of the patient's life. It is here that the parents can satisfy
their desire for active co-operation in the analysis, by means of
written replies to the analyst's series of questions, concerning the
physical and psychic development of the child in early infancy,
and these communications throw a valuable light upon the sur-
roundings, the outlook on life and the educational system in which
the child has grown up. It is of special importance in the process
of analysis to refrain from touching on certain matters, such as
infantile masturbation and how it ceased, and to overlook a de-
cided denial in respect to certain matters which we all know (just
like the interest in the digestive process, etc.) must be answered
in the affirmative by every child. This emphatic denial of all
kinds of 'nastiness' aiifords the analyst guiding-lines for the treat-
ment of the sexual problem.
I consider it impossible for anyone to analyse properly his
own child. This is so not only because the child hardly ever
reveals its deepest desires and thoughts, conscious or unconscious,
to father and mother, but because in this case the analyst is often
driven to re-construct too freely, and also because the narcissism
ON THE TECHNIQUE OF CHILD -ANALYSIS 305
of the parents would make it almost unbearable to hear from
their own child the psycho-analytic revelations.
The relations between the analyst and the patient's brothers
and sisters has also a bearing on the course of the treatment.
Usually the younger ones are eager to share the patient's con-
fidence, whereas the elder ones, owing to a secret feeling of envy
and animosity, and a half-expectation of betrayal of themselves
keep aloof. Both of these attitudes are judged with equal hostility
by the patient, who watches with jealous mistrust the relations of
his special confidant with his brothers and sisters and is unwilling
to give up his phantasy of the analyst's hostile attitude towards
the latter.
We may sum up our knowledge obtained from child-analysis
in a few sentences. Almost always we find mistakes in education,
through which a bad disposition or a harmful experience, instead
of decreasing in destructive effects, is fostered. Too much strictness
on the one hand, and too much leniency on the other, with
nearly always alack of consistency in the upbringing, bring about
these evils, from which both parents and children alike suffer.
If the parents themselves were analysed, in all probability fewer
children would be in need of analysis.
21*
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN THE RELIGION,
PHILOSOPHY AND CHARACTER OF THE HINDUS
by
OWEN BERKELEY-HILL, Ranchi, India.
The Abbe Dubois^ makes the following very interesting
and significant observation: 'Tlie conduct and the manner of
thinking of the Hindus respecting uncleanness and the means of
purification, are so different from anytliing to be seen in other
nations, that it would be very desirable if we could discover some
evidence to enable us to discern with certainty what has given
rise to those rules of conduct which they so invariably pursue '.
No one who has made even a superficial study of the customs
of the Hindus, still less any one who has come into actual con-
tact with them in India, can fail to be impressed with the length
and depth to which ideas pertaining to 'defilement' have come
to permeate their existence. Ceremonial 'purifications' of all
descriptions have played, and continue to play, important parts
in the daily routine of mankind throughout the world, but it is
unlikely that among any people at any time in the history of the
human race has either the desire for the avoidance of contact
with 'impurity' as well as the desire to remove the minutest
trace of any such impure contact risen to be such an overwhelm-
ing obsession as it has done among the Hindus. Although with
all races and religious systems, the conception of moral guilt
probably takes its origin in ideas which are fundamentally con-
cerned with bodily uncleanness, especially with the uncleanness ol
those parts of the body which are concerned with the excre-
mentitious functions, it is among the Hindus that this association
of ideas can be studied to the greatest advantage. Furthermore,
although there are in India many races, ethnologically
distinct, which profess Hinduism, yet in all of them we may find
certain traits of character which could only exist in persons
whose traditional beliefs and practices are largely the outcome
1 Dubois: The People of India, p. 122.
' i 306
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 307
of sublimations of, or reaction-formations against, anal-erotic
impulses.
The facts on which the theory of anal erotism is based are
now so widely known as to make it superfluous for me to do
more than recapitulate some of their salient features. Ernest Tones ^
has observed that Freud discovered the existence of three
character traits that are most typically related to highly
developed anal erotism — namely, orderliness, parsimony and seli-
willedness or obstinacy. To these three primary traits there belong
a number of subsidiary attributes, some of which are of a positive
nature (sublimations), while others bear a negative character
(reaction-formations), and correspond to barriers erected against
the repressed tendencies.
I shall now proceed to essay an attempt to apply these prin-
ciples to some of the main features, first of the Hindu cosmogony
and then to the general character-complex of the races of India
that are usually spoken of as 'Hindu'.
Probably the most striking feature of Hinduism, certainly
one that has exerted, aiid continues to exert, incalculable influence
on the lives of all Hindus, is that remarkable social organisation
which has been rather unfortunately termed 'caste'. Caste is a
Portuguese word (casta) and was first introduced into India about
the middle of the sixteenth century by the Portugese. Max
Mueller^ rightly insists on the misunderstanding that has follow-
ed upon the employment of this term 'caste' to the social
organisation of the Hindus, but neither he, nor Risley, nor Dubois,
nor, in fact, any of the numerous writers on the subject of
'caste', has appreciated the fundamental difference of these social
distinctions of the Hindus as compared, for instance, to the social
divisions that existed among the ancient Egyptians, the Jews, the
Greeks, as well as that separation of the public body of the
Sabines and Romans by Numa Pompilius. As Farquhar » observes,
there was at the time which brought forth the Rigveda,
the earliest literature in India, 'no caste among the Aryan
tribes'. There was, on the other hand 'a triple division of the
people into warriors, priests and commons, but there was no
hard and fast law prohibiting inter-marriage and commanding
' Ernest Jones: Papers on Psycho-Analysis, 2nd. Edition, 1918, p. 665.
> Max Mueller: The Six Systems of Indian Philosophy, p. 9.
'J.N. Farquhar: Outline of the Religious Literature of India, p. 6.
yi^H
308 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
each son to follow his father's occupation'. Certainly, we do fitid
in the celebrated 'Purusha hymn' of the Rig-veda (Mandala X.
90) an allusion to the distinction of 'castes', but this hymn is
admitted to be a' comparatively modern production. It is not
until we come to that form of Brahmaniam which may be
termed the Nomistic or Preceptive phase, because it represents
that period in Indian religious history when the Brahmans com-
posed codes of law (Kalpa-Sutras) and laid down precise precepts
for the constitution of the Hindu social fabric, that we encounter
definite expressions of separate divisions of the Hindus.
Now however one may attempt to rationalise the sub-divisions
as the outcome of purely social and economical, or even political,
considerations, as has been done hitherto by all writers on the
subject, we cannot get away from the fact that the basal prin-
ciple underlying this organisation is one that is wholly con-
cerned with a 'pollution-complex', for which assumption there
could not exist better nor more conclusive evidence tlian the
conception of the existence of a class of 'Untouchables'. As I
have already observed, it is the idea of 'pollution' with its con-
committant creation of a section of the body politic into 'Out-
castes', 'shut out in their filth and in their poverty', that
makes the Hindus unique among the other races of mankind. To
estabUsh this view more fully it will now be necessary to embark
on a review of the history of Hindu religious and philosoph-
ical systems as well as of the practices and beliefs to which these
systems have given rise.
It has already been observed that the early Vedic religion, as
epitomised in the Samhitas, does not afford such numerous
examples of the part played at that epoch by anal-erotic impulses
as we find in later manifestations of Hindu belief and practice.
Nevertheless, in the triad of deities which constitute the true
gods of the Veda— namely, the Fire-god (Agni), the Rain-god
(Indra), and the Sun-god (Surya or Savirti), we have examples of
the association of ideas traceable to an unconscious 'flatus-
complex.'
Ernest Jones ^ in a most interesting monograph has dealt
with some of the aspects of the part played in art and religion
by this complex, so that it is perhaps out of place to mention
• Ernest Jones 'Die Empfangnis der Jungfrau Maria durch das Ohr', Jakrh.
d. Psa. Bd. VI, 1914.
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 309
here the fact that Kunti, the wife of the Sun-god, gave birth to
a son Kama, so-called because he came forth from his mother's
ear. Further manifestations of this same complex are met with
again in the religion of the Veda in the so-called Sama-veda, a
collection of liturgical hymns for chanting at particular sacrifices.
In these hymns we find certain syllables, called 'stobhas', inter-
polated, e. g., hai, hau, hoyi, huva, hoi, etc., which from their nature
support the views expressed by Jones ^ and Ferenczi « that the ideas
of speech are equivalent in the unconscious with that of passing
flatus, and from this may arise the superstitious belief in the omnipotence
of words. Later on, when we shall come to examine those mystical
letters and syllables known as 'Bijas' we shall meet with still more
remarkable examples of the same idea.
In the Sama-veda we also find the beginnings of another
type of anal-erotic complex, namely the desire for self-control,
which lies at the root of perhaps the most typical of all
the manifestations of Hinduism — namely, 'Yoga'. Deussen » says
'The phenomenon of asceticism made its appearance among
the Hindus earlier and occupied a larger place than among
any other known people.' Although there are many other sources
of these ascetic and self-martyring impulses, a not unimportant
one is, as Ernest Jones * observes, ' the lasting influence of the infant's
ambition to achieve control of his sphincters, his first great lesson
of the kind'. To this view enormous support is to be found in
such Hindu practices as those detailed in the ' Hatha-yoga-pradi-
pika', one of many treatises on Yoga. For instance we read: ■>
'The asanas or postures are said to be eighty-four in number,
and each has its peculiar influence on the body and the mind...
Of all the different postures four are said to be the best... Sit
with the body perfectiy straight after placing the right foot in
the cavity between the left thigh and the calf, and the left foot
in the cavity between the right thigh and the calf. This is called
svastikasana. Having pressed the perinaeum with the end of the
left foot, place the end of the right foot on the spot exactly
above the penis. Then fix the chin steadily on the heart and
* Ernest Jones: Papers, etc., op. cit., p. 687.
» S. Ferenczi: Contributions to Psycho-Analysis, p. 269 et seq,
» Deussen: The Religion and Philosophy of India, p. 66.
* Ernest Jones: op. cit, p. 674.
' Manilal Nabhubhai Dvidedi: The Yoga-Sutra of Patanjali, Appen-
dix, p. 1.
I • 310 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
r
:
; remaining unmoved like a post, direct the eyes to the spot in
? the middle of the brows. This is siddkasana. In all tlie eighty-
h four postures always practise the siddhasana, for it is that which
I purifies all the seventy-two thousand nadis. ' Again, ' Place the
p right foot in an inverted position under the right part of the
I . perinaeum and the left foot under the left part, and hold both the
i feet by both the hands.' Again, 'So long as the Nadis, the
I vehicles of prana, are obstructed by abnormal humours, there is
[• no possibility of the prana running in the middle course {sasumna)
I and of accomplishing the unmani-mudra. Hence pranayama should
t be pracdsed in the first instance for the clearance of these humours.
\ The pranayama for this purpose is as follows. Having assumed
[ the padmasana posture, the yogin should inhale at the left nostril
[ and, having retained the breath for the time he easily can, should let it
I • off at the opposite nostril; and repeat the same process beginning
with the nostril where he exhales ... As helps to pranayama, and
F even as independent practices leading to several important results
' and even to samadhi, there are certain physico-mental postures
which are called mudras. They are ten in number ... of these I
shall describe three. Uddiyana consists in drawing in the navel \
and the parts above and below it. Mulabandha consists in drawing
in the parts of the anus, and in mentally exerting as if to draw
the apana upwards towards the navel.'
The following are a few extracts from an English translation
of the 'Yoga-Sutra' written by one Patanjali about the second \
century, B.C., with notes by tlie translator:
XL. From purity arises disgust for one's own body and non-
intercourse with others.
Note. The purity here referred to is physical or external; mental or internal
purity will be dealt with in the following aphorism. One who has understood
purity naturally looks with disgust upon his physical body which is full of
impurities, and he feels no strong desire to associate with others,
XLI. Moreover, there arise clear passivity, pleasantness of mind,
fixity of attention, subjugation of the senses, and fitness for com-
munion with soul.
Note. The results here enumerated are the consequences of mental purity.
XLIX. This being accomplished, pranayama follows, the cut-
ting off of the course of the inspiration and expiration of the
breath.
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 311
Note. Having described the fourth accessory of Yoga, it is proposed to des-
cribe here the nature of the fifth which is paranayama or control of the
breath. It consists of suspending the natural course of the breath, viz.,
expiration and inspiration.
L. It is external, internal or steady; regulated by place, time
and number; and is long and short.
Note. Paranayama is of four kinds. Three of these are described here and
the fourth is described in the following aphorism. When the breath is
expired, or held out as it is technically called, it is rechaka, the first pra-
nayama. When it is drawn in, it is the second, called puraka. And when it
is suspended, all at once, it is the third, called kumbhaka. Each of these is
regulati-rd by place, time, etc. By place is meant the inside or. outside of
the body, and the particular length of the breath in the act. The length of
the breath is said to vary in accordance with the prevailing tattva.
It is calculated that the breath is respectively 12, 16, 4, 8, and 0, finger-
breadths long, according as the tattva is prthvi, apas, tejas, vayu or akasa.
This, again, externally as well as internally. Time is time of the duration
of each of these... Works on Yoga say that the number should slowly be
carried to so far as eighty, every time one sits for the practice . . . Udgkata
appears to mean the rising of the breath from the navel, and its striking
at the roof of the palate. Pranayama has as its chief object the mixing of
prana, the upper breath, and apana the lower breath, and raising them
upwards, by degrees and stages, till they subside in the head.
LI. The fourth is that which has reference to the external and
internal object.
Note. The steady kind of pranayama called kumbhaka is a stopping of the
inspiration and expiration of the breath without reference to its external or
internal position ... It considers the position of the breath in the vaiious
padmas. The padmas are supposed to be plexuses formed by nerves and
ganglia of different places in the body. They are generally believed to be
seven in number, and are called adhara (at the anus), adhisthana (between
the navel and the penis), manipura (at the navel), anahata (at the heart),
visuddki (in the throat), ajna (between the eyebrows), and sakasrara (in the
pineal gland).
In the foregoing examples, which are typical of thousands of
others, we have an exquisite manifestation of the process of
'sublimation', in this case the conversion of the impulse to control
the sphincter am, especially in its relation to the passage of flatus
into a most elaborate quasi-philosophical system.
We must now return to what Monier Williams^ calls the
'second phase' of Indian religious thought, namely Philosophical
Brahmanism. Here we once more find the flatus-complex
■ Monier Williams: Brahmanism and Hinduism, p. 25.
312 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
masquerading as a metaphysical Spirit (Atman) — * a divine afflatus *
which permeated and breathed through all material things. This
Atman received the name of Brahman, (nominative neuter of Brahma,
from the root 'brih', to expand). Such was the fundamental doctrine
of Brahmanism, but it soon became a more complex system and
Monier Williams! divides it up into, (i) Ritualistic, (ii) Philosophical
(iii) Mythological or Polytheistic, and (iv) Nomistic.
Ritualistic Brahmanism has for its special bible the sacred
treatise, called Brahmanas, which are added to the Rig-veda.
According to Farquhar, * during the time when the Brahmans
were coming into being the first order of hermits arose. These
men gave up all business of the world and practised austerities
[tapas), sacrifice and meditation. As early as the Vedic creation-myths
the creator of tlie universe is said to have prepared himself for
his work by the practice ot 'tapas'. In this word, says Deussen,'
'the ancient idea of the "heat" which serves to promote the
incubation of the egg of the universe blends with the ideas of the
exertion, fatigue and self-renunciation, by which means the creator
is transmuted into the universe which he proposes to create'.
Ritualistic Brahmanism saw the development of the idea of the
great efficacy of sacrifice and with this notion there came into
being an intricate ritual. Every ceremonial rite had to be performed
with pedantic accuracy which, as Ernest Jones* has pointed out, is
another well recognised trait of an anal-erotic complex. The whole
course of prayer,'praise, ritual and oblation lasted often for weeks,
sometimes for years, and could then only be carried out by sixteen
different classes of skilled priests.
With the rise of Philosophical Brahmanism there followed a
reaction from the pedantic ritual of the Brahmans with a return
to an insistence on the importance of knowledge of the one
universally-diffused Spiritual essence (Brahman) and a concommittant
feeling that this purely spiritual knowledge made sacrificial cere-
monies useless. The special book of this phase of Brahmanism is
the Upanishads and it is in them that we encounter the quint-
essence of Hindu metaphysical speculation. In the Upanishads the
anal-erotic complexes find gratification in a striving after perfection,
' Monier Williams: op. cit.
' J. N. Farquhar: op. cit, p. 29.
* Deussen: The Religion and Philosophy of India, p. 66.
* Ernest Jones: op. cit
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 313
for the essential aim of the Upanishads is to explain reality, to
discover the Absolute. The teaching of the Upanishads circle round
the central conception of Brahman-Atman, the source, the support
and the reality of the universe. The idea embodied in the Upanishads
may be said to find its expression in the following lines from the
Kathaka, V., 9-11.
The light, as one, penetrates into space.
And yet adapts itself to every form ;
So the inmost self of all beings dwells
Enwrapped in every form, and yet remains outside.
The air, as one, penetrates into space,
And yet adapts itself to every form ;
So the inmost self of all beings dwells
Enwrapped in every form, and yet remains outside.
The sun, the eye of the whole universe,
Remains pure from the defects of eyes external to it;
So the inmost self of all beings remains
Pure from the sufferings of the external worlds.
But it is in those portions of the Upanishads which are con-
cerned with physiological conclusions as to the nature of the body
I that we find the greatest abundance of ideas associated with anal
■ erotic complexes. For instance, in the Maitrayana we find the
following : ' In this evil-smelling unsubstantial body, shuffled together
out of bones, skin, sinews, marrow, flesh, seed, blood, mucus, tears,
eye-gum, dung, urine, gall and phlegm, how can we enjoy pleasure.?
This body, originating from copulation, grown in the pit (of the
mother's womb) and issuing forth through the passages of the
excretions, is a collection of bones daubed over with flesh, covered ^
with skin, filled full with dung, urine, phlegm, marrow, fat and ]
grease ; and to crown all with many diseases, like a treasure store i
I crammed with treasure'. }
f The most complete elucidation of the body and its relations j
is furnished by the Garbha Upanishad : ' Consisting of five (earth, \
water, fire, wind, ether), ruling in these groups of five (the so- '■
called five elements, or the five organs of knowledge, or the organs ;
of generation and evacuation), Supported on six (the sweet, sour,
salt, bitter, acid and harsh juices of food), endowed with six :
314 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
qualities (unexplained), made up of seven elementary substanceis
(the white, red, grey, smoke-coloured, yellow, brown, pale fluid In
the body which is produced from the juice of the food), made up
of three kinds of mucus (unexplained, probably the three humours,
viz., wind, gall, phlegm), twice-begotten (from the father's seed and
from the mother's blood), partaking of various kinds of food (that
which is eaten, drunk, licked and sucked up), is the body.'
We may now proceed to review that phase of Brahmanism
which Monier Williams i calls the Mythological or Polytlieistic.
This phase has for its sacred books the two great legendary heroic
poems (Itihasa), the Mahabarata and Ramayana, and, in later times,
the Puranas. Monier Williams* writes as follows:
'The religious instincts of the mass of the Hindus found no
real satisfaction in the propitiation of the forces of nature and
spirits of the air, or in the cold philosophy of pantheism, or in
homage paid to the memory of a teacher held to be nowhere in
existence. They needed devotion (bhakti) to personal and human
gods, and these they were led to find in their own heroes'.
Hence the idea spread that all visible forms on earth are
* emanations' from the one eternal Entity, 'like drops from an
ocean or like sparks from fire'. They maintained that the highest
human manifestations of the eternal Brahma are the Brahmans,
and that above the human Brahmans there exists a series of super-
natural beings, demi-gods, inferior gods, superior gods and so on
up to the primeval male god Brahma, the first personal product
of the purely spiritual Brahma when overspread by Maya or
illusory creative force. But as creation involves maintenance of
being and disintegration, Brahma is associated with two other
personal deities, Vishnu the Preserver, and Rudra-Siva, the Dissolver
and Reproducer. These three gods, concerned in the threefold
operation of integration (evolution), maintenance and disintegration,
are typified by the three letters composing the mystic syllable OM
(AUM) — yet another manifestation of the flatus-complex. Another
interesting point is the idea that at the end of vast periods of
time, called, 'days of Brahma', each lasting 4,320,000,000 human
years, the whole universe is re-absorbed, and after remaining dor-
mant for equally long periods, is again evolved. A 'day' of Brahma
is said to be divided thus :
* Monier Williams: op. cit., p. 41.
» Monier Williams; op. cit, p. 42. .
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 315
(1) The Krita-Yuga 1,728.000 years
(2) The Treta-Yuga 1,296,000 „
(3) The Dvapara-Yuga . . . 864,000
(4) The Kali-Yuga 432,000 "
' A Mahayuga 4,320,000
71
A Manu period 306,720,000 „
14
4,294,080,000 „
With fifteen intervals ot
1,728.000 each 25,920,000 „
4,320,000,000 „
Jones 1 maintains that 'time' in its ordinary and personal
application can be an unconscious equivalent of excretory product
because of the sense of value attaching to it. Are vi^e not at liberty
to suppose that the explanation of the origin of these almost in-
credible figures has its root in somewhat similar notions? There
exist throughout the literature that pertains to Hindu religion and
philosophy almost endless examples of that particular type of
thinking which is concerned so deeply with figures. It appears to
me as not unlikely that playing and juggling with figures is an
intellectual form of the manipulation of external objects. In other
words, it is the purely mental equivalent of moulding, sculpture,
and the manipulation of plastic material.
The Ramayana, one of the famous epic poems of the period
of Mythological Brahmanism, to which reference has been made
already, teams with numbers of colossal magnitude. For example,
the host of Ravan, the demon opponent of Rama, consisted
of 150,000,000 elephants, 300,000,000 horses and 1,200,000,000
asses ; and so on.
In the Harsa-Carita of Bana, a historical romance dating from
the seventh century of our era, the epic poets are positively out-
done. Here is a description of the camp of Sri-Hirsa.
'It seemed like a creation-ground where the Prajapatis practised
their skill, or a fourth world made out of the choicest parts of
the other three ; its glory could not be described in hundreds of
» Ernest Jones : op. cit.
i
I»
I-
\
i
y 316 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
I
I Mahabharatas — it must have been put together in a thousand
f golden ages, and its perfection constructed with millions of swargas
[ (heavens), and it seemed watched over by crores (1 crore is equal
to 10,000,000) of tutelary royal deities'.
The fourth phase of Brahmanism according to Monier Williams *
may be called the Nomistic or Preceptive phase. It represents
the period in Indian religious history when the BrahiYians compiled
codes of law for the co-ordination of its different castes and for
the regulation of everyday domestic life. It is especially note-
worthy that the introduction of these codes which promulgated
drastically and pedantically ordinances in regard to every act of
a man's domestic life was accompanied by an increase of laxity
and liberty in. regard to all forms of religious belief The reason
for this is not very difficult to see. The three principle codes, the
Manava Dharmasutra, the Yajnavalkya and the Parasara, embodied
ideas that offered much greater facilities not only for sublimation
of anal-erotic impulses but for the formation of barriers against
such impulses. The most important of these three codes was the
Manava Dharmasutra, more usually known as the Law of Manu.
It deals pre-eminently with the subject of conduct. The word
Dharma means that which is obligatory and is thus similar to the
Latin religio. The tliree codes combine to form a kind of bible
and as such are mirrors of Indian domestic customs.
Ernest Jones ^ remarks ; 'It is astounding how many tasks and
performances can symbohse in the unconscious the act of defaecation,
and thus have the mental attitude towards them influenced by the
anal-erotic character traits when these are present. Three classes
of actions are particularly prone to become affected in this way.
First, tasks where there is a special sense of duty or of "oughtness"
^ attached, therefore especially moral tasks. Much of the pathologically
intolerant insistence on the absolute necessity of doing certain
things in exactly the "right" way is derived from this source. The
person has an overwhelming sense of "mustness" which brooks
of no argument and renders him quite incapable of taking any
sort of detached or objective view of the matter ; there is only
one side to the question, and it is not open to any discussion
at all.'
We have already noted (p. 312) how tliis sense of 'oughtness' as
• Monier Williams: op. cit,
° Ernest Jones: op. cit.
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 317
well as that feeling of the absolute necessity of doing certain thihgs
in exactly the 'right' way were of the greatest importance in the
period which we have termed Ritualistic Brahmanism. We shall
now see how these same feelings have sought gratification when
under the influence of the codes of conduct peculiar to the Nomistic
or Preceptive period.
Indeed it would appear only possible to explain the vast majority
of the ideas that govern the life of the Hindus, especially the Brahman
on the assumption that his thoughts, actions and words are profoundly
influenced by unconscious complexes associated with the act ot
defaecation.
To simplify our illustration we will first pursue an orthodox
Brahman male adult through his day from his getting up in the
morning to his retiring to rest at night.
A Brahman should rise every day about an hour and a halt
before the sun appears above the horizon. On rising, his first thought
should be of Vishnu, and he should do all he can to avoid any
inauspicious sights and to cast his eyes on something of good
omen. Confusion might be introduced into the household for the
rest of the day were the householder to cast his eyes on a crow
on his left hand, a kite on his right, a snake, cat, jackal, or hare,
an empty vessel, smoky fire, a bundle of sticks, a widow, a man
with one eye, or even with a big nose. On the other hand, should
the householder's first glance fall on a cow, horse, elephant, parrot,
a lizard on an east wall, a clear fire, a virgin, or two Brahmans,
all will go right. 1
Then after calling upon certain gods to cause the sun to rise,
he recites several prayers and performs several meditations, remind-
ing himself that this daily task to be meritorious must be done
zealously and piously, and not indifferently and perfunctorily. He
must then perform the hari-smarana, which consists in reciting aloud
the litanies of Vishnu and repeating his thousand names. These
preliminaries ended he must attend to the calls of nature and the
following rules must be closely obeyed:*
Rtiles to be observed by Brahmins when answering- the calls of
nature:
I. Taking in his hand a big chembu (brass vessel) he will proceed
1 Monier Williams: op. cit.
318 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
to the place set apart for this purpose, which should be at least
a bowshot from his domicile.
II. Arrived at the place he will begin by taking off his slippers^
which he deposits some distance away, and will then choose a clean
spot on level ground.
III. The places to be avoided for such a purpose are: the
enclosure of a temple; the edge of a river, pond, or well; a public
thoroughfare or a place frequented by the public; a light-coloured
soil; a ploughed field; and any spot close to a banian or anyotlier
sacred tree.
IV. A Brahmin must not at the time wear a new or newly-
washed cloth.
V. He will take care to hang his triple cord over his left ear
and to cover his head with his loin-cloth.
VI. He will stoop down as low as possible. It would be a great
offence to relieve oneself standing upright or only half stooping:
it would be a still greater offence to do so sitting on the branch
of a tree or upon a wall. '
VII. While in this posture he should take particular care to
avoid tlie great offence of looking at the sun or the moon, the
stars, fire, a Brahmin, a temple, an image, or one of the sacred
trees.
VIII. He will keep perfect silence.
IX. He must chew nothing, have nothing in his mouth, and
hold nothing on his head.
X. He must do what he has to do as quickly as possible, and
rise immediately.
XL After rising he will commit a great offence if he looks behind
his heels.
XII. If he neglects none of these precautions his act will be a
virtuous one, and not without merit; but if he neglects any of them
the offence will not go without punishment.
XIII. He will wash his feet and hands on the very spot with
the water contained in the chembu which he brought. Then, taking
the vessel in his right hand, and holding his private parts in his
left hand, he will go to the stream to purify himself from the great
defilement which he has contracted.
XIV. Arrived at tlie edge of the river or pond where he pur-
1 Dubois and Beauchamp: Hindu Manners, Customs and Ceremonies,
3rd. Edition, p. 237.
"1?
3
t
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 319
poses to wash himself, he will first choose a suitable spot, and
will then provide himself with some earth to be used along with
the water in cleansing himself.
XV. He must be careful to provide himselt with the proper
kind of earth, and must remember that there are several kinds
which cannot be used without committing an offence under these
circumstances. Such are the earth of white-ants' nests; salt-earth'
potters' earth; road-dust; bleaching earth; earth taken from under
trees, from temple enclosures, from cemeteries, from cattle pastures;
earth that is almost white like ashes; earth thrown up from rat
holes and such like.
XVI. Provided with the proper kind of earth, he will approach
the water but will not go into it. He will take some in his chembu. ^
He will then go a little distance away and wash his feet and hands
again. If he has not a brass vessel he will dig a little hole in the
ground with his hands near the river-side and will fill it with water
which he will use in the same way, taking great care that this
water shall not leak back into the river.
XVII. Taking a handful of earth in his left 'hand' ^ he will pour
water in it and rub jt well on tlie dirty part of his body. He
will, repeat the operation, using only half the amount of earth,
and so on three times more, the amount of earth being lessened
each time.
XVIII. After cleansing himself thus he will wash each of his
hands ^ five times with earth and water, beginning with the left
hand. 11 1
* He must not use that portion of the hand sacred to the Pitris or spirits
of his departed ancestors, namely the part between the thumb and the fore-
finger which is called 'pitrya'.
» It is only the left hand that may be used on these occasions. It would
be thought unpardonably filthy to use the right hand. It is always the left
hand that is used when anything dirty has to be done, such as blowing the
5 nose, cleaning the ears, the eyes, etc. The right hand is generally used when
any part of the body above the navel is touched, and the left hand below
that. All Hindus are so habituated to this that one rarely sees them using
the wrong hand. The custom of carefully washing the dirty part after ans-
wering a call of nature is strictly observed in every caste. The European
habit of using paper is looked upon by all Hindus, without exception, as an
utter abomination, and they never speak of it except with horror. There are |
some who even refuse to believe such a habit exists, and think it must be a
libel invented out of hatred for Europeans. I am quite sure that when Hindus
talk amongst themselves of what they call our dirty, beastly habits, they
rn^iH
320
OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
XIX. He will wash his private parts once with water and potters'
earth mixed.
XX. The same performance for his two feet, repeated five times
for each foot, beginning, under the penalty of eternal damnation,
with the right foot.
XXI. Having thus scoured the different parts of his body with
earth and water he will wash them a second time with water only.
XXIL After that he will wash his face and rinse his mouth out
eight times. 1 When he is doing this last act he must take very
great care to spit out the water on his left side, for if by care-
lessness or otherwise he unfortunately spits it out on the other
side, he will assuredly go to hell.
XXIII. He will think three times on Vishnu and will swallow
a little water three times in doing so.
Rttles to be observed when cleaning the teeth.
I. To clean his teeth a Hindu must use a small twig cut from
either an uduga, a rengu, or a neradu tree, or from one of a dozen
others of which the names are given by tl;e author.
IL If sucli a twig is unobtainable, he may use a bit of wood
cut from any thorny or milky shrub. ': ; .
III. Before cutting the twig he must repeat the following prayer
to the gods of the woods: 'O gods of the woods! I cut one of
your small twigs to cleanse my teeth. Grant me, for this action,
long life, strength, honour, wit, many cattle and much wealth,
prudence, judgment, memory, and power '.
IV. This prayer ended, he cuts a twig a few inches in length,
|[ and softens one end into the form ol a painter's brush.
V. Squatting on his heels and facing either east or north, he
never fail to put this at the head oi them all, and to make it a subject of
bitter sarcasm and mockery. The sight of a foreigner spitting or blowing his
nose into a handkerchief and then putting it into his pocket is enough to
make them feel sick. According to their notions it is the politest thing m
the world to go outside and blow one's nose with one's fingers and then to
wipe them on a wall.
Mt is necessary to rinse the mouth out after every action which is cal-
culated to cause any defilement. The rule is to rinse the mouth out four
times after making water, eight times after answering an ordinary call of
■f nature, twelve times after taking food, and sixteen times after sexual inter-
course.
iM.
m
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 321
scrubs all his teeth well with this brush after which he rinses his
mouth with fresh water,
VI. He must not indulge in this cleanly habit every day. He
''0. must abstain on the sixth, the eighth, the ninth, the eleventh the
fourteenth, and the last day of the moon, on the days of new and
't full moon, on the Tuesday in every week, on the day of the con-
stellation under which he was born, on the day of the week and
on the day of the month which correspond with those of his birth
at an eclipse, at the conjunction of the planets, at the equinoxes
the solstices, and other unlucky epochs, and also on the anniversary
of the death of his father or mother. i
VII. Any one who cleans his teeth with his bit of stick on any
of the above-mentioned days will have hell as his portion!
VIII. He may, however, except on the day of the new moon
and on the ekadasi (eleventh day of the moon), substitute grass or
the leaves of a tree for this piece of wood.
IX. On the day of the new moon and on the ekadasi he may
only clean his teeth with the leaves of the mango, the juvi, or
the nere.
', After having cleaned his teeth the Brahmin must direct his
steps to some water to go through the important act of the
• sandkya.
Teeth-cleaning is only preliminary to the next important
religious act of the day — bathing (snana). According to Monier
Williams 1 'This should be performed in some sacred stream,
but in default of a river, the householder may use a pool or tank,
or even, in case of dire necessity, a bath in his own house. Before
entering the water the bather ought to say, "I am about to perform
morning ablution in this sacred stream in the presence of the gods
and Brahmans with a view to the removal of guilt resulting from
act, speech, thought from what has been touched and untouched,
known and unknown, eaten and not eaten, drunk and not drunk." '
After bathing comes the cereinony of Bhasmadharana, or application
of ashes. This is done by rubbing ashes taken from the sacred
domestic hearth on the head and other parts of the body, with the
-V repetition of a prayer to Siva. The next act is Sikha-Bandhana,
or tying up of the locks on the crown of the head, lest any hair,
thought to convey impurity, should fall on the ground or in the
water. All preUminary acts and purifications being now completed,
1 Monier Williams: op. cit. , .
88*
322 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
the pious Hindu proceeds to the regular Morning Service, called
Pratah-Sandhya, performed at the junction of night and day. Tlie
first act of the morning service, and, as stated before, the usual
preliminary to all Hindu rehgious rites, is sipping water (acamana);
two or three mouthfuls being swallowed for internal ablution. The
water is taken up in the hollowed palm of the right hand or
poured from a spoon into the palm, and is supposed to cleanse
body and soul in its downward course. This is done two or three
times at the commencement of tlie Morning Service. During the
sipping of the water the twenty-four principal names of the god
Vishnu are invoked. The second act is called the Pranayama,
'exercise or regulation of the breath', to which reference has already
been made on page 310. The next division of the ceremonial is
caUed Marjana, 'sprinkling'. It is a kind of self-baptism performed
by the worshipper himself by sprinkling water on the head while
the first three verses of the Rig-Veda are recited. Then follows a
second performance of Marjana, or 'sprinkling', and a repetition of
all the nine verses of the Rig-Veda hymn of which the first three
verses had been previously recited. The next division of the ser-
vice is called Karna-nyasa, or 'imposition of fingers'. Its peculiar
ritual is taught in the more modern religious works called Tantras.
To understand the Karna-nyasa we must bear in mind that the five
fingers and the palm of the hand are consecrated to various forms
of Vishnu, and that different gods are supposed to reside in different
parts of the body, the Supreme Being occupying the top of the
head. Hence the act of placing the fingers or hand reverentially on
the several organs is supposed to gratify and do honour to the
deities whose essence pervade these organs, and to be completely
efficacious in removing sin. The tip of the thumb is held to be
occupied by Govinda, the forefinger by Mahidhara, the middle finger
by Hrishikesa, the next finger by Tri-vikrama, the little finger by
Vishnu, the palm of the hand by Madhava, all being different forms
of the same god Vishnu. The worshipper then commences the
nyasa ceremonial by saying: 'Homage to the two thumbs, ,to the
two forefingers, to the middle fingers, to the two nameless fingers
(i. e. the ring fingers), to the two little fingers, to the two palms,
to the two backs of the hands. ' Then follows another division ot
the Nyasa ceremonial called Indriya-Sparsa, or the act of touching
different parts of the body, such as the breast, eyes, ears, navel,
throat, and head with the fingers.
I--;*
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 323
Next comes the regular Gayatri-japa, or repeated muttering
of the Gayatri prayer to the sun. Before beginning' this repetition,
those who follow the Tantrik system go through the process ol
^^i making various mystical figures called Madras, twenty-four in
number, by twisting, interlacing or intertwining the fingers and
hands together. Each of these figures, according to its name bears
some fanciful resemblance to animals or objects of various
j; kinds, as for example, to a fish, tortoise, boar, lion (these
•/;! being forms in which the god Vishnu became incarnate), or to
!: : a cart, noose, knot, garland, the efficacy attributed to these pe-
I'; culiar intertwinings and twistings of the hands and fingers being
.;; enormous. The correct number of repetitions is 108, and to insure
accuracy of enumeration a rosary of 108 beads made of Tulasi
wood is generally used, the hand being carefully concealed in a
red bag or under a cloth. The last act, like the first, is an
internal purification of the body by acamana, or sipping of water.
On the completion of the Sandhya service, the next ceremony is
the worship of the Supreme Being, the act being known as Brahma-
yajna. The Brahma-yajna is followed by the Tarpana ceremony,
which is properly a triple act, consisting in offerings of water for
refreshment (tarpana) to the gods, inspired sages, and fathers.
In the first part, called Deva-tarcana, 'refreshing of the gods',
the sacred thread is worn over the left shoulder and under
the right arm, the worshipper being then called Upaviti.
Water is taken up in the right hand and poured out over
the straightened fingers. In the second part of the Tarpana
service, called Rishi-tarpana, 'refreshing of the inspired sages',
the sacred thread is worn • round the neck like a necklace
the worshipper being then called Niviti. The wate^ is then'
offered so as to flow over the side of the palm between the
root of the thumb and fore-finger, the fingers being bent
) inwards. The worshipper now changes the position of his sacred
I thread, and placing it over his right shoulder and under his
I left arm (being then called Pracinaviti) makes offerings of water
'% to the Acaryas, or inspired religious teachers. The third division
of the Tarpana ceremony is called Pitritarpana, 'refreshing ol
deceased fathers or departed ancestors'. The thread is worn
over the right shoulder as in Acarya- tarpana, but the water is
y poured out over the side of the palm opposite to the root of
'' the thumb.
ti^^
324 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
As Monier Williams ^ observes: *An orthodox Brahman's
craving for religious ceremonial is not by any means satiated by
the tedious round of forms he has gone through in the early
morning. A pause of an hour or two brings him to the time
when preparations for another solemn rite have to be made. This
is the ceremony which ought to precede the midday meal*. This
ceremony is divided into two parts which are known as the Vais-
vadeva and Bali-harana. The detail of botli as given in the most
trustworthy manuals is as follows: *
The worshipper begins by the usual sippings of water (acamana)
and breathing exercise* (page 310), and by declaring his intention
of performing the ceremony thus : 'I will today perform the morning
and evening Vaisvadeva with the cooked food (siddhana) cast into
the fire, for the purification of that food and for my own purifi-
cation, and to make expiation of the five destructive domestic
implements (Panca-suna), » and to obtain the reward prescribed
by the Sruti, Smriti and Puranas.' Then a small moveable fire-
receptacle is brought and the service begins with an invocation
of the god of fire. After this invocation a covered dish of uncooked
rice is brought in and the cover removed. Then the sacred fire
is placed in the receptacle. Consecrated fuel is then put on and
the fire fanned while the following remarkable text from the Rig-
Veda IV, 58, 3, is recited : ' Four are his horns, three are his feet,
two are his heads, seven are his hands. He the triply-bound bull
roars. The mighty deity enters mortals'. The collecting together
and spreading of the consecrated fuel and sacred Kusa grass
employed in the ceremony are then made ; and water is sprinkled
round in a circle. Next, the rice about to be eaten is consecrated
by the sprinkUng of water and placed on the fire. After this prayer
oflferings are made with the usual reverential ejaculations. Next,
the worshipper, after purifying his person and washing his hands,
makes offerings to all the gods, throwing portions of cooked rice —
each portion about equal to a mouthful — into the fire. The next
act is the taking up of ashes from the fire in a deep-bowled spoon
* Monier Williams: op. cit.
* Idem: op. cit.
* The five places, or domestic implements, through the use ot which
animals may be accidentally destroyed in the process of preparing food, are,
(1) the fire place, (2) the slab for grinding corn, (3) the pots and pans,
(4) the pestle and mortar, (5) the water pot.
Wm
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 325
*
called Darvi, and the application of a small quantity with the
finger to different parts of the body, and the utterance of a prayer.
The ashes are applied to the forehead, the neck, the navel, the
right shoulder, the left shoulder, and the head respectively. Another
prayer to the god of fire concludes the Vaisvadeva portion of the
service. But the Vaisvadeva ceremony is not complete without the
Vali-harana, or offering of food to all gods and all creatures, in-
cluding all kinds of animals and spirits. The worshipper begins
by placing a small mouthful of cooked rice in a circle on the ground
between himself and the fire-receptacle, allotting separate portions
to all the gods to whom off'erings have already been made in the
fire, as well as to other beings outside the circle, in regular order.
After the due performance of the Vaisvadeva and Bali-harana
ceremonies the cooked food is considered fit to be consumed, but
yet other ceremonies are due in the matter of eating and drinking.
In the first place, the usual sipping of water (acamana) for internal
purification, has to be performed. Each diner pours water with
a spoon into the palm of the hand, then someone leads the others
and all sip together. Next, water is sprinkled in a circle round
each plate, and someone of the company repeats a grace before
eating. After the recitation of this grace the actual business ot
eating may begin, but each person first places either four or five
small mouthfuls of food on the ground on the right side of his
leaf plate. His meal over, the Hindu (Brahman) washes his hands
and rinses his mouth. He must also gargle his throat twelve times.
Towards sunset he returns to the river and performs the evening
sandhya, repeating the ceremonies of the morning. On his return
home he performs the homam for the second time, and reads some
Puranas. He again goes through the Hari-Smarana. Having com-
pleted his religious duties for the day, he takes his evening meal,
observing the usual ceremonies, and goes to bed soon afterwards.
A Brahman must purify the place where he is going to sleep by
rubbing it over with cow dung, and he must manage so that the
place cannot be overlooked by any one. A Brahman must
never sleep on a mountain, in a graveyard, in a temple, in any
place where they do puja (worship), in any place dedicated to
evil spirits, under the shadow of a tree, on ground that has been
tilled, in a cowshed, in the house of his gura (spiritual teacher),
in any spot that is higher than that where there happens to be
the image of some god, or where there are ashes, holes made by
326 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
rats, or where snakes generally live. A Brahman puts a vessel
of water and a weapon near where he lays his head. He rubs his
feet, washes his mouth twice, and then lies down. A Brahman
must never go to bed with his feet wet, nor sleep under the beam
which supports the roof of the house. He must avoid sleeping
with his face turned to the west or north. If it is impossible to
arrange it otherwise it would be better to be turned towards the
north than towards the west. When lying down he offers worship
to the earth, to Vishnu, to Nandikeswara one of the chief spirits
who guard Siva, and to the bird garuda (Brahmany kite), to whom
he makes the following prayer : ' Illustrious son of Kasyapa
and Vinata ! King of birds, with beauteous wings and sharp-pointed
beak ; you who are the enemy of snakes, preserve me from their
poison ! ' Finally, the Brahman must again think of Vishnu, and
this should be his last thought before sleeping.
We have now examined fairly fully the routine of an ordinary
day of an orthodox Brahman. Of course, the details vary a little
from those which have been quoted ^ according to the sect to
which the Brahman may belong, the part of India in which
he lives, and the degree of his orthodoxy. Nevertheless, the
description may be taken as a very fairly correct account of
the daily life of an orthodox Brahman, especially one belonging
to Southern India.
In the rules laid down for the performance of excretory acts,
we find an abundance of reaction-formations against the material
emitted. Moreover, the passion for cleanliness is not confined to the
outside of the body but extends to the inside also. Ample evidence ol
this exists in the scrupulous ceremonial observed in the preparation
and consumption of food, as well as the repeated rinsings of the mouth
and sippings of water. This intense fear of pollution is, as I have
remarked at the outset, one of the most typical reaction-format-
ions of the Hindus and probably no parallel can be found to it
except among victims of obsessional neuroses of the type des-
cribed by Ernest Jones. ^ It is not possible to give examples of all
the expressions of this reaction-formation but one more may be cited
in the case of the Ramanuja sect of the Vaishnavas (followers ot
Vishnu) who carefully lock the doors of their kitchens and protect
' Dubois and Beauchamp: op. cit.
= Ernest Jones: 'Einige Falle von Zwangsneurose ', Jahrhuch /, Psycko-
ttnal. u. Psychopath. Forsckung, Bd. V, S. 55.
^:l
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 327
their culinary and prandial operations from the gaze of even high-
caste Brahmans of tribes and sects different from their own. i
I' ^gain a close parallel between the thought processes in the
; obsessional neurotic and the Hindu is discernible in that partic-
ular type of belief which has been termed 'the omnipotence ol
thoughts'. Ferenczi^ has divided up the course of development
in the infant as regards its sense of reality into four stages. Ot
these, the third stage Ferenczi calls 'the period of omnipotence
by the help of magic gestures'. Among these 'gestures' the sound
produced by the passage of flatus play an important part so that,
as Ernest Jones' observes, 'they constitute one of the chief means'
p through which the infant retains its belief in its omnipotence, a
consideration that throws some light on the above mentioned
association between the belief and anal erotism in the obsessional
neurosis'. Examples indicating the relation between certain pract-
ices of the Hindus and Ferenczi's 'third stage' were given on
page 323. I will now give a still more extravagant example from
the chapter by Monier Williams * which deals with Saktism, in
which the idea of the omnipotence of words and thoughts,
(Ferenczi's 'fourth stage') is very admirably illustrated. The follow-
ing is a description of the rite of Bhuta-suddhi, 'removal ot
1 demons': 'Holding a scented flower, anointed with sandals, on
the left temple, repeat Om to the Gurus, Om to Ganesh, Om to
Durga. Then with Om phat rub the palms with flowers, and clasp
the hands thrice over the head and by snapping the fingers
towards ten diff"erent directions, secure immunity from the evil
spirits. Next utter the Mantra Ram, sprinkle water all around,
and imagine this water as a wall of fire. Let the priest identify
himself with the living spirit Qivatman) abiding in man's breast,
in the form of the tapering flame of a lamp, and conduct it by
means of the Sushumna nerve through the six spheres within the
body upwards to the Divine Spirit. Then meditate on the twenty-
four essences in nature; viz. the Producer, Intellect, Egoism, the
five subtle and five gross elements, the five external organs of
sense, the five organs of action, with mind. Conceive in the left
nostril the Mantra Yam, declared to be the Bija or root of wind;
« Monier Williams: op. cit. ' •
» S. Ferenczi: op. cit. ■ .
' Ernest Jones: op. cit., p. 546.
* Monier Williams: op. cit. . . '
328 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
repeat it sixteen times while drawing air by the same nostra;
then close the nose and hold the breath, and repeat the Mantra
sixty-four times.
' Then meditate on the Matrika, and say, "Help me, goddess ot
speech": Am to the forehead. Am to the mouth, Im to the right
eye, Im to the left eye, Um to the right ear, Urn to the left ear,
Im to the right cheek, Im to the left cheek, Rim to the right
nostril. Rim to the left nostril, Lrim to the right cheek, Lrim to
the left cheek, Em to the upper lip, Aim to the lower hp, Om
to the upper teeth, Aum to the lower teeth, Tarn, Tham, Dam,
Dham, and Nam to the several parts of the left leg, Pam to the
right side, Pham to the left, Bam to the back, Mam to the
stomach, Yam to the heart. Ram to the right shoulder, Lam to
the neck-bone, Vam to the left shoulder, Sam from the heart to
the right leg, Ham from the heart to the left leg, Ksham from
the heart to the mouth.'
Monier Williams i observes: 'To us it may seem extra-
ordinary that intelligent persons can give credence to such ab-
surdities, or lend themselves to the practice of superstitions so
senseless; but we must bear in mind that with many Hindu
thinkers the notion of the eternity of sound — as propounded in
Patanjali's Mahabhashya (I. i. 1) and in the Purva-mimansa of
Jaimini — is by no means an irrational doctrine. According to
tlie well-known Mimansa aphorisms (I. i. 18-23), sound is held
to have existed from the beginning, hence the letters of the
alphabet, being the ultimate instruments by which sounds are
uttered and thoughts expressed, are considered to possess super-
natural qualities and attributes and to contain within themselves
an occult magical efficacy. Let a man only acquaint himselt
with the proper pronounciation and application both of the Mantras
and of their Bijas or radical letters, and he may thereby propitiate
the Saktis so as to acquire through them superhuman power (siddhi)
—nay, he becomes, through their aid, competent to accomplish
every conceivable object.
Following Ernest Jones' scheme ^ of dividing up the reactions
against anal erotism into four groups, of which two are derived
from the ' keeping back ' or possessing instinct, while the remain-
ing two are characterised by the desire to create and produce,
' Monier Williams: op. cit.
= Ernest Jones: op. cit. ; ' ■
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 329
we may now proceed to examine some of the more marked
and universal traits of character and temperament of the Hindus
with a view of ascertaining, if possible, whether the singularity of
the mental make-up of these people, as well as the antipathy
they invariably display towards other religions whose main-spring,
so to speak, lies in a totally different category of ideas can be
traced to the distinctive type of sublimations and reaction-
■ formations of their anal erotism.
Ernest Jones ^ writes: 'the most typical sublimation product of
the " retaining " tendency is the character trait of parsimony, one
of Freud's triad; in the most pronounced cases it goes on to
actual miserliness. ' No one conversant with Hindu character
probably not even a Hindu himself, would hesitate to admit that
as a class the Hindus are niggardly and avaricious, especially the
Brahmans and Vaisyas, or trader caste. This trait of the Hindu
character is piquantly dealt with in one of Rudyard Kipling's
stories. 8 Although the facts as narrated are made to proceed
from a disreputable European, they represent so much that is so
true that 1 cannot refrain from quoting the whole passage: 'A
year spent among native States ought to send a man back to the
Decencies and the Law Courts and the Rights of the Subject with
a supreme contempt for those who rave about the oppressions ot
£|. our brutal bureaucracy. One month nearly taught an average
"=" Englishman that it was the proper thing to smite anybody of I
mean aspect and obstructive tendencies on the mouth with a ~-|
;'| - shoe. Hear what an intelligent loafer said. His words are at least
as valuable as these babbhngs. He was, as usual, wonderfully
drunk, and the gift of speech came upon him. The conversation
. -: — he was a great politician, this loafer — had turned on the
.• poverty of India. "Poor?" said he. "Of course it's poor. Oh, yes,
- d — d poor. And I'm poor, an' you're poor, altogether. Do you
■ ; . expect people will give you money without you ask 'em.? No, I
tell you, Sir, there's enough money in India to pave Hell with if
you could only get at it. I've kep' servants in my day. Did they
I ■ ever leave me without a hundred or a hundred and fifty rupees
put by — and never touched ? You mark that. Does any black
, man who had been in Guv'ment service go away without hundreds
an' hundreds put by, and never touched.? You mark that. Money.?
• Ernest Jones: op. cit. ■
= 'From Sea to Sea' Vol. I, p. 196. .. , _ , '
330 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
The place stinks o' money — ^just kept out o' sight. Do you
ever know a native that didn't say Garib adnii (I'm a poor man)?
They've been sayin ' Garib admi so long that the Guv'ment learns
to believe 'em, and now they're all bein' treated as though
they was paupers. I'm a pauper, an' you're a pauper — we' aven't
got any thing hid in the ground^an' so's every white man in
this forsaken country. But the Injian he's a rich man. How do I
know.? Because I've tramped on foot, or warrant pretty well from
one end of the place to the other, an' I know what I'm talkin'
about, and this 'ere Guv'ment goes peckin' an' fiddlin' over its
tuppenny-ha'penny little taxes as if it was afraid. Which it is. You
see how they do things in... It's six " sowars "^ here, and ten
"sowars" there, and, "Pay up, you brutes, or we'll pull your ears
over your head." And when they've taken all they can get, the
headman, he says: "This is a dashed poor yield. I'll come again:"
Of course the people digs up something out of the ground, and
they pay. I know the way it's done, and that's the way to do it.
You can't go to an Injian an' say: "Look here. Can you pay me
five rupees?" He says: " Garib admi,'''' of course, an' would say it
if he was as rich as a banker. But if you send half a dozen
swords at him and shift the thatch oif of his roof he'll pay. '
Any one who knows India to any appreciable extent will agree
that this story gives a lively account of two notable characteristics
of the Hindu, namely, his avariciousness and his instinct to hoard.
A far more edifying manifestation of the same complex is, as
Ernest Jones ^ observes, ' the great affection that may be displayed for
various symbolic objects — and one of the most impressive traits
in the whole gamut of the anal character is the extraordinay and
quite exquisite tenderness that some members of the type are
capable of, especially to children. ' The Hindu is certainly passion-
ately fond of children, at any rate of his own children. Children,
like money, are faecal symbols * and there is a good deal
in Hindu literature which displays evidence of the unconscious
association of these two sets of ideas. For instance, the common
idea that the baby is created out of faeces is reproduced in the
story of the birth of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god, who was
derived from the excrement of his mother Parvati. Again, at Nan-
' troopers.
* Ernest Jones: op. cit.
' Ernest Jones: op. cit.
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 331
jangud, a village situated about ten leagues south of Seringapatam,
there is a temple famous throughout Mysore. Among the numerous
votaries who flock to it are many women, who go to implore the
help of the idol in curing their sterility. Offerings and prayers
are not the only ceremonies which have to be gone through. On
leaving the temple the woman, accompanied by her husband has
to go to a place where all the pilgrims are accustomed to resort
to answer the calls of nature. There the husband and the wife
collect with their hands a certain quantity of ordure and form it
into a small pyramid, which they are careful to mark with a sign
that will enable them to recognize it. Then they go to the neigh-
bouring tank and mix in the hollow of their hands the filth which
has soiled their fingers. After having performed their ablutions
they retire. Two or three days afterwards they visit their pyramid,
and, still using their hands, turn the filtliy mass over and over
and examine it as carefully and as seriously as the Roman augurs
scrutinized the entrails of sacrificed animals, in order to see if any
insects have been engendered in it. In this case it would be a
very good omen, showing that the woman would soon be pregnant.
But if, after careful search, not even the smallest insect is visible,
the poor couple, sad and discouraged, return home in the full con-
viction that the expenses they have been put to and the pains
they have taken have been of no availA
The chief reaction-formation of the retaining tendency is the
trait which loves orderliness, the third of Freud's triad. How this
trait expresses itself to an extraordinary degree in the pedantic
ceremonial of Hindu worship has already been alluded to. Simil-
arly in the field oi thought reference has been made (p. 313) to
the expression of the same tendency through the Hindu passion
for definitions, especially in the realm of metaphysics. Probably
the intense attraction which the study and practice of law has for
Hindus is conditioned by their fondness for that particular form
of intellectual exercise which is often termed 'hair-splitting'. In
this same category we find the opposite of parsimony — extreme
generosity and extravagance. The history of India teems with
stories illustrating the extravagance of her princes, nobles and
plutocrats. Dubois ^ states that immense fortunes! seldom sur-
vive the second generation of Hindus, owing to the manner in
• Dubois and Beauchamp: op. cit.
' Dubois and Beauchamp: op. cit.
I ^oo OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
1-
332
which the sons foolishly squander the wealth laboriously gained by
their fathers. Ernest Jonesi remarks : ' One can distinguish two varieties
of even the positive aspect of the "giving out" type according to
what is done with the product ; with the one variety the person's
aim is to eject the product on to some other object, living or not,
while with the other the aim is to manipulate the product further
and to create something out of it. To the former type belongs
the impulse to stain or contaminate by throwing ink, acids or
chemicals at people'. This impulse is typified in the Hindu cere-
mony of Holi, a kind of Hindu Saturnalia. It is marked by rough
sports in which the worshippers eidier sprinkle each other with
red or yellow powder, or squirt red or yellow fluid at each other
with squirts. Probably painting the forehead with the ' caste-mark '
in variously coloured pigments, a procedure followed by all ortho-
dox Hindus, has its origin in the same impulse. Another and very
prominent manifestation of the infantile level of Hindu thought
and behaviour finds expression in certain aspects of their love-life
which is almost entirely subordinated to the act of giving and
receiving. This may indeed be partly accounted for by the fact tliat
most marriages among Hindus are between immature and pre-genital
boys and girls, hence a further factor in the custom of wooing
through presents of money, jewels, etc. As Ernest Jones ^ observes,
this type of wooing is only to be observed amongst Europeans who
are relatively impotent or anaesthetic. The desire for marriage,
i. e. to impregnate, which is contributed to by this complex is,
among Hindus, a veritable passion. To a Hindu marriage is the
most important and most engrossing event of his life ; it is a sub-
ject of endless conversation and of the most prolonged preparations.
An unmarried man is looked upon as having no social status. He
is not usually consulted on any important point and no work ol
any consequence may be given to him. Women cannot under any
circumstances take vows of celibacy. The marriage of girls before
puberty and the prohibition to widows to remarry are doubtless
both expressions of 'the pollution complex' which, as has been ob-
served already, is the keystone of the Hindu hierarchy of ideas.
The desire to manipulate the product further finds its commonest
sublimation among mankind in industrial and artistic creations
such as metal-moulding and sculpture. Both these occupations have
' Ernest Jones: op. cit
' Idem: op. cit.
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 333
tt^^\
been pursued with passionate zeal by Hindus from very early
times, and in their products whether in brass, bronze or stone-
^^' the impulse to manipulate has been carried to lengths hardly to
be met with in similar creations of other nations. The impression
that nearly all Hindu manipulative art, as opposed to pictorial,
leaves on the mind of the European is one of oppressive confusion
of ornament with an insensate distortion of the human figure which
is nearly always represented in attitudes of violent contortion.
We have already dealt at some length with the varieties of
reaction-formations built up by the Hindu against the material
emitted or symbols thereof. In fact it is this aspect of the anal-
erotic functioning of the mind that the Hindu transcends any other
race or class of people in the whole history of the world.
Further, the Hindus display conspiciously a trait which is
pecuHar to persons In whom there exists this type of reaction-
formation, namely, an astonishing indiffarence to their surroundings
to their furniture, clothes and so on. To the ordinary run ol
European, whose reaction-formations tend more towards a passion
for cleanliness, hardly anything occasions more surprise in the
character of the wealthy Hindu than his contentment with shabby,
patched clothing, his rather mean househould equipment, frequently
in obvious need of repair or replacement Such a saying as 'a
stitch in time saves nine' is to a Hindu merely an impertinence!
In Hindu custom it would appear that we are confronted with
the obverse of 'the theory of the pure man' i as exemplified in the in-
sistence on the marriage of girls before puberty as well as in the
horror they experience over the idea of a widow marrying again.
The exuberant manifestations of the flatus-complex which we
meet at every turn in studying Hindu beliefs and practices has
already been considered. We may therefore conclude our survey
of the subject with a few general observations on the effect that
these character-traits of the Hindus have on their past, present
and future relations to the rest of mankind.
It is not unhkely that the strange antipathy that is felt for the
Hindus by most, if indeed not all, the races of the world, is
nothing more than an expression of an unconscious feeling of
antagonism brought about by some of the peculiarities of the
manifestations of anal erotism as met with among the Hindus. It
is certainly a fact that wherever the Hindu may go, no matter
• Ernest Jones: op. cit. . »
334 ■ OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
whether it be in Asia, Africa or Europe, he is" to the inhabitants
of that country a veritable Dr. Fell. We must tlierefore assume
that, this obscure but nevertheless very real dislike which is shared
by all races of mankind for the Hindu, must, from its very nature,
have its roots in some deeply-buried source of feeling. Books on
India teem with' references to this singular 'otherness', if I may
use the term, of the Hindu as compared, for instance, with the
Muslim or Christian Indian, and a variety of reasons' are cited to
account for it. It is obviously absurd to appeal to the question
of 'colour', for the colour of Hindus is tlie same as that of the
Muslims and Christians of India. Moreover, many people who make
this appeal, appear to overlook the fact that the black man of
Africa feels quite as antipathetic to the Hindu as does the white
man of Europe or America, or the yellow man of Burma, China
or Japan. Another fact that is frequently ;forgotten by persons
in discussing what is usually termed 'colour prejudice' in regard
to the relations of Hindus to Europeans is that Hindus have
always been very much more concerned with the question ot
colour than have Europeans. It was the early Hindus themselves
who deliberately grounded all social distinctions upon Varna.
colour, and dismissed all the dark-skinned aboriginal races ot
Southern India as Rakshasas or demons. Every Hindu admires a
fair skin and longs for a fair-skinned wife to bring him fair
children. Other persons have sought a solution to the question by
assuming that the non-Hindu, whether he be European, African
or Asiatic, dislikes the Hindu because of the jealousy he feels for
the Hindu's intellectual gifts. Needless to say, this view of the
question is held for the most part only by Hindus and that even
they have some difficulty in holding such a belief finds ample
evidence in the perfervid adulation of their own attainments in
which they seem compelled to indulge from time to time. For
mstance, we find in a recent text-book published for the use of
the Central Hindu College at Benares, such desperate expressions
of an attempt to compensate a powerful 'insufficiency complex ' as the
following : 'No other religion has produced so many great men, great
teachers, great writers, great sages, great saints, great kings, great
warriors, great statesmen, great benefactors, great patriots, etc'
From what is now known of the influence exerted on the form-
ation of character and temperament by the two fundamental
phases of anal erotism, that is to say, the impulse to 'keep back'
t^..'
.1
'•■h ■
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 335
and the impulse to 'give out', it is by -no means unlikely that
herein lies the answer to the riddle as to the origin of many of
those striking idiosyncrasies of the Hindu character which not only
mark him off from the rest of mankind but leave him with a habit
of mind that is antipathetic, if not actually repellent, to his fellow-
men of other religious persuasion. Ernest Jones i has shewn how the
end-product of the character of an individual will depend on the
detailed interplay of the attitudes distinctive of each phase and
on the extent to which the individual may react to each by devel-
oping either a positive sublimation or a negative reaction-form-
ation. Jones has also shewn that some of the most valuable
qualities are derived from this complex, as well as some of the
most disadvantageous. He cites as belonging to the first group
individualism, determination and persistence, love of order and
power of organisation, competency, reliability and thoroughness,
generosity, the bent toward art and good taste; the capacity for
unusual tenderness, and the general ability to deal with concrete
objects of the material world. In the second group he includes
the incapacity for happiness, irritability and bad temper, hypo-
chondria, miserhness, meanness and pettiness, slow-mindedness and
proneness to bore, the bent for tyrannising and dictating and
obstinacy. A glance at the character traits summarised in the second
group is sufficient for any one at all acquainted with the Hindu
character and temperament to recognise that most, if not all, of
them are eminently those of Hindus. To begin with, an incapacity
for happiness is one of their most notorious peculiarities. There is '
nothing a Hindu fears more than life. The very essence of his life
is fear — fear of the unknown result which may follow upon error, '
either in conduct, in faith or in ceremonial. Moreover, the bugbear
of the Hindu is his behef in metempsychosis. An average Hindu
sees very little to enjoy in life. Such a phrase as 'la joie de vivre*
is to him nothing more nor less than a contradiction in terms. *
A Hindu who could say with Thoreau that he enjoyed his life to %
*the core and rind' is unthinkable! As Meredith Townsend^ re-
marks: 'The wish to be rid of consciousness either by annihil-
ation or absorption in the Divine, is the strongest impulse he
(the Hindu) can feel'. In this feeling probably lies the source of that
detestation in which both Islam and Christianity are held by Hindus.
' Ernest Jones: op. cit.
« Meredith Townsend: Asia and Europe, p. 35. ' • • - . /
as
m
336 OWEN BERKELEY-HILL
A religion which preaches an * everlasting consciousness' so far
from affording him solace only tends to drive the Hindu into further
depths of distraction.
J. Then as regards the character trait of irritability and short
^_ temper. It is awell-known characteristic of Hindu legendary asceticism
f: that its votaries are insanely short-tempered and vindictive. Incal-
culable is the trouble wrought in legend by the maledictions ot
irascible rishis.'^ No one can deny that as a general rule the
Hindus exhibit a disastrous propensity to quarrel, especially
in the family circle, and to this trait is added, what is still
worse, vindictiveness. Reference has already been made to the
miserhness, meanness and pettiness of the Hindus, and as these traits
are so well known there is no call to notice them further. That love
of orderliness which we may observe as a conspicuous feature of
Hindu religious ritual, is rarely met with in the guise of the power
to organise, except perhaps in the pursuit of wealth. The tendency
to dictate and to tyrannise is such a notorious trait of all Oriental
character that it is not surprising to find it a prominent feature
of Hindu character. Indeed one of the most odious manifestations
of tyranny may be regarded as quite peculiar to the Hindus, and
that is the tyranny of the higher castes, especially the Brahmans,
over those of lower caste. Obstinacy is so typical a character trait
of the Hindu that its various manifestations have been the tlieme
for innumerable dissertations on the 'changeless East'. It was to
this trait in the Hindu character that Mattliew Arnold referred in
his celebrated lines:
The East bowed low before the blast,
In patient deep disdain;
^ She let the legions thunder past,
Then plunged in thought again.
It will appear that when we come to consider the question of
the source of the antipathy that is felt by other races, especially
the European and African, for the Hindu, from the standpoint of
* anal-erotic complexes, the answer to it is not very difficult to find,
for we see how the anal erotism of the Hindu produces a congeries
of character traits which are the very antithesis to those of Europeans,
especially the English. The character traits of the English people
' William Archer: India and the Future, p. 20S.
■*
THE ANAL-EROTIC FACTOR IN HINDU RELIGION 337
as a whole belong for the greater part to the first of the two
groups distinguished by Ernest Jones, i For instance, the Englishman,
as opposed to the Hindu, exhibits usually an extraordinary
individualism as well as a frequently devastating persistence to
V ' carry through whatever he may believe to be 'right'. Likewise
;;;|; the Englishman is prone to entertain pedantic notions about
;• " , 'justice', while the Hindu, altliough he loves the law as a source
' .-^;: of income, has very little liking for it as an instrument of govern-
ment. He ' prefers a flexible and human will which can be turned
by prayers, threats or conciliations in money'. ^ The average
Englishman revels in attempts to get other people to accept
his views on religion, morality and the like, but the Hindu's
-■i views on these matters are for private consumption only, or, at
the most, for members of his family. While Englishmen will often
display remarkable competency, reliability and thoroughness,
Hindus will not. under any provocation, burden themselves with
a sustained habit of taking trouble. As Meredith Townsends ob-
serves: 'You might as well ask lazzaroni to behave like Prussian
officials'. Like most Orientals, Hindus issue orders and punish
terribly (or not at all!) if they are not obeyed. As to 'hunting the
lY||v ' order down' to its execution, they would not accept life at the
price of such a duty! Again, the English have learnt to make a
fetish of 'sanitation'. An Englishman's bath-room, water-closet and
laundry form a triad of reaction-formations of his anal erotism be-
fore which he will, so to speak, prostrate himself in a rhapsody
of adoration. Among the Hindus, reaction-formations of the same
type have led to the apotheosis of ceremonial puriiication, but
•': hand-in-hand with this goes an indifference to hving under con-
ditions indescribably filthy, especially when the filth is associated
with religious worship, a fact to which the holy places of Benares
bear ample testimony. Lastly, and perhaps above all, the Englishman
possesses a general ability to deal with the concrete objects of the
world to an extent to which few other races can aspire. In his
introduction to Nietzsche's 'Genealogy of Morals', Alexander
Tille* writes as follows: 'A great English scholar whom years
> Ernest Jones: op. cit. . ."■ _
' Meredith Townsend: op. cit. '' -
' Idem: op. cit.
•' - •* Friederich Nietzsche: A Genealogy of Morals. Translated by W. Hauss-
mann and J. Gray. Introduction by Alexander Tille, p. xiii.
■-■-■' '28*
33S
ago I asked to explain how at this time of day a philosophy so
utterly absurd as that of Hegel was in full sway in English academic
circles, whilst long ago it had died out at the German universities,
told me that he did not wonder at it in the least. The English
mind was so absolutely practical that for a philosophy it needed
something absurd in the highest degree, because it^ would at once
pull to pieces every reasonable philosophy offered'. The Hindu,
on the other hand, has earned an enormous reputation for specula-
tive metaphysics and transcendental idealism. In short, the type of
mentality which we encounter among Hindus is in many ways
typical of that of obsessional states, while their general level ot
thought partakes of the variety usually peculiar to children. Whether
the Hindu mind is capable of any further approximination to reality
is a matter which the future alone can show.
Received March 20, 1920.
^
OWEN BERKELEY-HILL fl^^
!»!r>^
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF PSYCHOANALYSIS
IN THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE
by
JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR, Brookline, Mass.
^ In the history of science it is not often that it falls to the lot
of a single investigator to inaugurate an entirely new method of
research or to discover a whole group of general laws, each valid,
each equally fundamental.
Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis, has done both:
he has inaugurated the analytic method of inquiry which is being
fw. successfully applied to all the manifestations and products of mental
' „' ' activity; and through the careful use of tliis technique he has un-
' covered fundamental principles hitherto either wholly unrecognised
or perceived but vaguely.
For the first time psychoanalysis introduces true order and
.- , - understanding into some of the most obscure and bafHing pro-
vinces of the mind — phobias, compulsions, obsessions and dreams.
For the first time, too, we are acquiring true insight into the
meaning, the psychic development and mechanism of that most
dreadful of all personal calamities, mental brealcdown or insanity;
and through the aid of psychoanalysis correct principles are being
evolved for its prevention — in so far as mental disorder may be
preventable.
Although psychoanalytic research is only in its initial stage, it
has already thrown a flood of light on mental growth during in-
fancy, childhood and adolescence; and the respective educational
and hygienic requirements are becoming clear as the development
of human personality is traced with scientific accuracy. The un-
foldment of character traits is becoming a study as objective in
its technique and results as any study of natural history. Human
behaviour is being subjected to scientific scrutiny at last without
the handicap of ego-centric presuppositions.
339
, 340 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
j," It would not be easy at tliis early stage properly to estimate
i the great practical benefits in terms of personal and racial wel-
I fare bound to follow the wider extension and applications of psycho-
i analysis and certain to be witnessed in the immediate future. In
!' unravelling for us the natural history of mental growth and thus
f placing within our ken the means for its conscious direction and
I control, Freud's discoveries promise to accomplish, with respect to
E our knowledge of the subjective, inner world of our psyche, a
r transformation as radical as that which Newton's discovery of the
I laws governing the Cosmos has accomplished with respect to our
i knowledge of the world of external reality.
The same precision, of course, cannot be expected in the two
. fields of inquiry. The laws of mind are infinitely more complicated
' and do not lend themselves to mathematical treatment like the
laws of nature. But in general aspects the comparison holds. The
position of both, Newton and Freud, is alike unique in the history
of science; for just as there is no other cosmic system for man
to repeat Newton's discovery of its laws so tliere is but one sub-
jective world for man to delve into and Freud has shown the way
of discovering law and order therein.
The earliest significant observations were made by Freud in
connection with his professional studies of persons suffering from
various nervous complaints. These incidental observations have led
him to most important discoveries. From the field of abnormal
psychology in which they first arose, Freud and his pupils extended
the important discoveries to the whole realm of psychology. Not
psychology alone but all contiguous disciplines, anthropology, folk-
lore, religion, economics, sociology, history, and even literary
criticism, politics and biography, are becoming indebted to psycho-
analysis.
The work is only at its beginnings, as mentioned, but signi-
ficant contributions have already been made in some of these
various directions. Already it is not premature to assert that p.sycho-
analysis promises to accomplish for the whole group of the so-
called Geisteswissenschaften (the cultural sciences, as contrasted to
the exact disciplines) what the evolutionary theory — and specifically
the work of Darwin — has done for the biological group of sciences.
Indeed, in a broad sense, it may be said that psychoanalysis re-
presents but an extension of the theory of evolution, an applica-
tion of the principle of evolution to the study of mind or,
PSYCHO ANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 341
'■'m ■
""in'
rather, a rediscovery of that truth in terms of concrete psycho-
logic data, facts.
Scientific discoveries so wide in their range of applicabihty, so
novel — even revolutionary — and of such tremendous consequence
' as those which form the major body of psychoanalytic theory,
cannot but rouse extreme scepticism, even hostility— at first.
That is precisely the fate that psychoanalysis has met at the
hands of critics too startled by the new principles to \iew them
with objective detachment.
Psychoanalysis is nothing short of revolutionary, exactly as
Darwinism has proven to be. That the introduction of conceptions
compelling a rearrangement of fundamental principles should create
havoc is only to be expected. Such a change foretells the doom
of the old and customary viewpoints whose protagonists will not
i.f^l yield the ground without a struggle.
Now, psychoanalysis challenges the whole group of scientific dis-
ciplines in any way related to the operations of the mind. It requires
all psychologic branches of learning to undertake nothing less than
a restatement in terms of evolutionary dynamics of the principles
upon which they are based. Freudian psychology has sounded the
vM " - death-knell of static, descriptive, atomistic psychology just as surely
■%i# " as Darwinism has put an end to the pre-evolutionary biology.
The world at large cannot remain long indifferent to the Freudian
transformations of psychology. This is not merely a matter con-
\|^ ' ceming specialists. The controversy raised by psychoanalysis does
not center on theoretic problems and abstract points such as are
popularly supposed to be dear to the dry-as-dust scientist. The
problems raised by psychoanalysis relate most intimately to the
' practical concerns of health and everyday living. If Freud be
correct, if the unconscious, for instance, plays the r61e he assigns
to it and if it is truly possible to get at it through the analysis of
dreams and of the other formulations and products of the un-
conscious by means of the technique he has evolved, we have in
our hands, for the first time in the history of science, a scientific
method for controlling our psychic energies and for properly
directing their outward flow. Through psychoanalysis, at last, mental
health, efficiency, education of mind and body, human welfare
generally — racial as well as personal — become subject to purposive
direction and control, exactly as tlie forces of nature are today in
the engineer's hands. •: ■ - :_,.■... i
v^vS
342 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
The prospect is not over-drawn. Psychoanalysis clearly holds
out no less a promise than this.
, Not the least merit of Freud is that he has at last linked in
a practical, rigorously scientific manner our so-called 'normal'
mental activities with those considered 'abnormal*, and has proven
the essential unity of mental functions.
That mental disorders are the result of the psychic forces
governing the normal reactions of mind has long been accepted as
a truism — in the abstract. Bat in the practical working out of the
subject, in our text-books on psychiatry, for example, this essential
truth played no part. It was practically disregarded — abstract
theory and practice did not conform to each other in this instance,
for the simple reason that there had been found no way of utilising
the truth; no method of interpreting the disordered mind through a
knowledge of what is going on in the healthy mind and vice versa.
To assert the essential unity of mental functions as a truth
flowing out of theoretic considerations is one thing; to prove, as
well as make fruitful use of, this important fact, is quite an other.
This bridging over of normal and abnormal, the rediscovery of
the essential unity or oneness of mind, has been accomplished by
Freud.
The links that connect normal and abnormal mind are furnished
by the functions of the unconscious. The notion of the unconscious,
of course, is not in itself a novel contribution of psychoanalysis.
Indeed, as a mere hypotliesis the unconscious is as old as, and
perhaps antedates, the formulation even of our earliest scientific
conceptions in psychology. But Freud gave the principle its present
scientific and precise formulation. Above all he has evolved the tech-
nique for the empiric investigation of the unconscious — a technique
that enables us to deal with the facts and forces of mind as ob-
jectively as with any other facts and forces in nature.
The concept of the unconscious had been rejected from modern
scientific psychology because of its metaphysical and highly specula-
tive character. But with the adoption of Freud's rigorous, practical
method of inquiry the principle of the unconscious has become
the core of psychology.
It is in this connection that Freud has evolved the study and
analysis of dreams. The results are overwhelming; they yield a
new sense of order and permit our understanding to reach down
to the nethermost depths of human nature. i
PSYCHOANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 343
II
The significance of psychoanalysis in the history of science
may be best illustrated perhaps by pointing out the background,
the historic setting of Freud's invaluable contributions.
The dominant conception in all the biologic sciences, during
: the period immediately preceding Darwin's epoch-making discoveries
I and before Darwinism made itself felt, may be designated as
atomism.
The age of atomism in biology was preceded by, and to a
large extent cotemporaneous with, atomism in politics, philosophy,
•■ theology and education; for in every age the dominant idea spreads
Itself over the whole realm of its characteristic culture.
Political atomism culminated in the French Revolution and the
i,. American Declaration of Independence.
The sense theory of knowledge carried to its logical extreme
by Hume with his denial of causality and true selfhood, by Leibniz
with his theory of monads, and by Kant's teacher, Wolff, with his
so-called Rational Psychology, illustrates the philosophical atomism
' of the period.
Theological atomism manifested itself in the crude theism of
that period separating a kind of atomic divinity from the aggre-
gate of units called the Universe, and representing that unit as
standing in a sort of preferential relationship to the other atoms
— an off-shoot, clearly, of the Leibniz-Wolffian doctrine.
Educational atomism blossomed forth in the theories of Rousseau,
notably his 'Emile'.
Finally upon the sociologic-economic field we have, towards the
end of the atomistic p«(iod, the materialistic conception of history
culminating in the doctrine of the struggle between classes, a little
earlier the laissez-faire doctrine and between the middle and the
end of that period, again, the formulation of the philosophical
anarchism of Godwin and Proudhon. Thus the various cultural
movements manifested the same or a similar dominant note— indiv-
idualism, atomism.
Closely upon the heels of this atomistic Weltanschauung, there
followed the conception of energy. Indeed, tlie doctrine of energy
was inherent in tlie standpoint of atomism. Just as atomism
attempted to show us the constitution, 'energeticism' was to explain
the dynamics of the universe and of human existence. Then followed
344 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
in rapid succession the discoveries of new energies in nature, the
harnessing of electricity, steam, and other labor-saving forces, the
multiplication of means for creating power, the rise of large cities,
of international trade combinations and of corporations for tlie
exploitation of natural resources on a tremendous scale-— all in
keeping with the new cultural development.
At that stage Darwin introduced the concept of unfoldment, of
scientific evolution. It became the fashion of scientiISc endeavor to
explain what a thing really is by showing how it came to be, that
is, by giving its developmental history.
In the history of psychology ' associationism ' represents the
atomistic phase of the science of mind. The pre-Freudian conception
of psychic dynamism is a sort of metaphysical, philosophic, specula-
tive energeticism. Though rooted in physiology and often expressed
in terms current in biology, it is at bottom but little more than
the psychology of Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Dugald Stewart, Thomas
Reid, Adam Smith, James Mill, John Stuart Mill, and Alexander
Bain— to mention only some of the chieftains of British speculative
psychology.
Even the psychology of Herbert Spencer does not typify the
true evolutionistic development. In his day the data were not yet
available for the adoption of evolution as a working principle in
psychology; but to Spencer belongs the credit of having anticipated
■with many keen generalizations, though speculatively, the next phase
in the development of the science of mind.
At any rate the adoption of the evolutionistic or developmental
concept in biology and the rapid spread of that viewpoint to
contiguous sciences represents the next great general phase m
the history of culture. Even disciplines of speculative character,
philosophy, sociology, ethics, adopted the new viewpoint. Bui
clinical psychology remained strangely aloof, and experimental
psychology lagged behind. The 'energeticism' of Herbart and
Lotze, fruitful and significant as they have been, remain a secondary
development. No working basis had been devised for the adoption
of evolution as a guiding principle in the practical concerns of
psychology. The main course of development in the study of
mind during health and disease alike persisted on the old path
of atomism. The doctrine of the association of ideas and the
more recent doctrine of the 'conditional reflex' are typical of the
standpoint of non-Freudian psychology to this day in spite of the
\
!;| PSYCHO ANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 345
[^ - . -
•■.■^: influence of the principle of evolution upon the course of scientific
-;•: ■ , development.
■^ In that state psychology and clinical psychia:try were not likely
, .-^J . to yield significant results along other than descriptive lines.
? .% KraepeHn, the high light of psychiatry, arranged his text-book
, .;, . . with the conscientious scruples of one who appreciates the scientific
. ;|t; value of classification and description. His clinical entities are
'0y .,... divided, classified and subdivided, tabulated and labelled with
C^ ' much care. Progress between succeeding editions of Kraepelin's text-
,.^' book on Psychiatry consists largely of the introduction of some
Ifi new subdivision or in the transfer from one label to another of
a part of its contents.
The tendency of clinical psychology and psychiatry in its
atomistic stage to emphasize description and classification, as
illustrated in Kraepelin, is equally obvious in the French school of
clinical psychologic research. The Raymond-Janet contributions are
masterly descriptions of psychologic states. Janet's works, in par-
ticular, read like romances. His studies of hysteria, neuroses, fixed
ideas and psychic automatisms have inspired Professor William
James to hold out the expectation, in his 'Principles of Psycho*logy',
that, 'all these facts, taken together, form unquestionably the be-
ginning of an inquiry which is destined to throw a new light into
the very abysses of our nature*.
The new light came as the result of Freud's important discoveries.
To the J:wo-dimensional, atomistic, descriptive psychology of the
' French school and of the Kraepelinian psychiatry Freud has added
a third dimension — the genetic, developmental, evolutionistic view-
point. The result is as radical a transformation of all branches of
psychology as that which Darwin has inaugurated in the biological
sciences. Freud's discoveries are doing for' psychology what
Darwin's have done for biology.
III
The method of Freud is known as psychoanalysis. It recognizes
a selective property whereby ideas group and regroup themselves
in accordance with laws governing their emotional value to the
person concerned. Freud's psychology lays stress on the emotional,
affective value of our ideas rather than on their logical content:
346 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
that feature constitutes one ot tlie chief differences between it and
the older psychology.
Even in that regard Freud's work is not altogether novel, ihe
most radical departure is the serviceable, accurate conception of
the qualities and forces of our psyche which he has formulated as
the result of his recognition of the unconscious.
An illustration will make this matter clear. Suppose a person
has undergone a strong emotional experience— a sudden shock,
fright, some keen disappointment or painful loss. The reaction to
that experience will vary with the person's temperament, mental
status, and other conditions. Suppose the person in question is
highly nervous and the shock results in some degree of dissociation,
that is, in a loss from memory of certain parts of the experience.
This is a most frequent occurrence. In such cases, too, it is common
for some unreasonable and unaccountable fear to appear, the fear
being associated with some object or situation harmless in itself. [
For instance, the person in question may be afraid of closed doors,
or of open spaces, or of crowds or of being alone, or of some animal .
or person. The victim cannot account for this fear; cannot even tell I
when "it began or why it appeared. The fear may be partly over- j
come in the course of years. But the chances are rather that it will .
persist and that, all through his future life that person will go j
about more or less handicapped by that unreasonable fear. I have ■
chosen this example because it is a very common experience and ^
in its milder form may be found in every person's experience. {
If the victim of such a condition is helped to reestablish a free
intercommunication of his ideas by regular periods of concen-
tration upon the disturbing situation or idea or object which happens
to become associated with his unreasonable fear, it will soon be
evident that there is an intimate connection between the object of
his fear and the unpleasant experience which became lost from
ordinary consciousness. Through concentration of the mind around
the disturbing object, thought, or image, and allowing all ideas
which crop up in that connection to come to the surface (aided
thereby by the counsel of the consulting psychologist), the afflicted
person finds that the ideas evoked, at first scattered and coming
as if by chance from nowhere in particular, point gradually and
at last irresistibly to the particular event which, because of its
painful or unpleasant character, had become excluded from con-
sciousness. Following the ramification of the ideas as they crop
PSYCHOANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 347
f ■
I up, it is soon found that a number of other experiences, entirely
I forgotten, many of them dating from early childhood, have become
associatively linked to the painful occurrence or incident and have
; fortified the fear or other unreasonable symptom with their own
j emotional strength. While this is going on another strange thing
happens. As the painfully unpleasant, apparently forgotten memories
are brought to the surface and the emotions with which they were
originally associated are recalled, the fear which was the object
of investigation disappears either suddenly or more or less rapidly.
The reawakening of painful reminiscences, apparently lost from
, memory, dissolves the unreasonable and apparently meaningless
fear. The connection between the painful incident and the later
fear is thus disclosed.
But what is the nature of that relationship ? The two are linked
through a common emotion or complementary affect. Where the
condition is not entirely reheved by the recall of certain painful
reminiscences, further inquiry leads to the unearthing of additional
occurrences which had become similarly excluded from ordinary
consciousness and have added their emotional strength to the un-
: pleasant existing state. This teaches us that when painful experiences
are pushed out of memory, they are really only pushed further
in; they disappear from conscious memory but only to lie dormant
and to influence the subject unconsciously, throwing up emotional
bubbles in most unexpected ways. No matter how deeply this in-
! grown emotion may lie buried it does not wholly get out of reach.
I Following up the free association of ideas, especially those which
arise around the subject's dreams, the submerged memory is brought
back, element by element.
One of the most remarkable features of repressed emotions
is that they belong in large part to our childhood life. Even when
\ the events to which they pertain belong to a later period the
' reaction they evoke is characteristic of our childish or infantile
j attitude towards life and does not belong to the age at which
it appears. In other words certain infantile emotional reactions
persist in the unconscious and become the center of psychic shocks
' or injuries.
', Previous to Freud's discovery of these important facts clinical
psychology, as I have pointed out already, was concerned chiefly
with description and classification. In the. case mentioned it would
have limited itself to inquire: what is the person most afraid of?
\ 348 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
I ' Closed doors? That is claustrophobia. Open spaces? That is agora-
i.^ phobia, and so forth. Freud found that these fears have specific
.. meanings in every instance. That 'open spaces' and ' closed door ',
for instance, have particular meanings for the persons concerned
f^. * , on account of which they play the role they do in certain in-
stances; that their role is always determined by what they stand
i for in the subject's own mind — perhaps a meaning acquired in
connection with some actual experience, forgotten, or rather re- ji
t pressed, or a fanciful meaning derived symbohcally.
[ In other words, our fears, morbid dreads, doubts, feelings of '
[ incapacity and numerous other emotional handicaps have an inner, \
E or subjective developmental history; their course must be traced
t. back to the earliest episodes in connection with which they have |
[: arisen, before we can expect to be completely freed of them. ,
[, Now, eliildhood has been compared to the primitive state ot '
[ mankind. Conversely, savage society is said to represent the
[ childhood of the race. This much was surmised here and there
[ even during the pre-evolutionistic phase of science.
Since Darwin, the comparison between childhood and primitive
' mankind as representative of the same developmental stages has
I achieved new significance. Darwinism has led to the theoretic
f , assumption that in our physical as well as mental development
[- we recapitulate the biologic history of the race. Herbert Spencer
|: has popularised this idea. It has led to the formulation of the so-
t called recapitulation theory — an idea which has been worked out
r extensively in embryology where it is associated chiefly with the
researches of Ernst Haeckel. Readers will recall the interesting
series of embryologic sections which were circulated years ago,
showing that during the various stages of its development the
human foetus resembles in form and functional arrangement one
after another various animal species from the lower to the
higher.
The recapitulation theory maintains that during the embryonic
stage every individual repeats, in abbreviated form of course, many
of the important stages through which the human race has passed
in its ascent from the lower and more primitive forms. Countless
centuries of unfoldment are thus condensed and recapitulated in
the brief course of our intra-uterine existence. Beginning as an
unicellular organism, a protozoon in all respects, the fertilised
human ovum becomes a metazoon, assumes shapes and forms re-
*
■-<•;-■
PSYCHO ANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 349
sembling one after another various organisms from the simpler to
the more complex and at birth still resembles man's immediate
anthropoid pregenitor more than the human race.
This is not the place to mention the numerous limitations and
strictures that have been placed upon this ingenious theory as
originally worked out by Haeckel and his enthusiastic pupils. It
is true that some phases of intra-uterine existence appear to corre-
spond to a higher phyletic branch than the immediately following
ones, as if in repeating the story of the biologic unfoldment of
the human race, the embryo rushed ahead a period or two and
returned to the omitted sections subsequently, exactly as one often
does when telling an interesting story. This and other minor con-
siderations in no way detract from the significance of the theory
as a whole any more than rushing from one crucial point to
another in the telling of a story and then returning to dwell on
details, makes the story untrue. The facts are sufficient in their
essentials to prove the recapitulation theory is sound.
IV
Now, turning our attention to the individual mind, may not
that, too, similarly recapitulate in the course of its growth the
psychic unfoldment of the human race.> That our mind does that
very thing has long been a theoretic conclusion of biological in-
vestigators.
Unfortunately, psychologists had discovered no way to lift
that capital idea from the realm of hypothesis and transmute it
into a working, useful, practical principle. Neither the technique
of ordinary laboratory psychology nor that of clinical psychiatry
was such as to enable students of mind to make use of this fund-
amental truth in their work. Both psychology and psychiatry
remained as before Darwin, atomistic, loosely dynamistic, descrip-
tive. Whole textbooks on psychology have been written without
the term 'development' becoming once necessary in the descrip-
tion of mental processes. At this stage in the history of science
that in itself should have warned the old school psychologists and
psychiatrists that something was the matter with the technique of
their disciplines. ^ -. . . •
350 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
Freud did not set out deliberately to cover the gap between
atomism and evolutionism. His ambition was limited to the direct
and practical task of finding out what was wrong in the case of
that large number of functional nervous disorders which ordinary-
methods of therapy, including hypnosis and suggestion, failed to
cure. His task was a practical one, his attitude that of a specialist
in nervous diseases interested in the welfare of his patients.
When Freud found that his patients suffered from painful reminis-
cences, hidden or suppressed, he set to work to discover the forces
which lead to suppression. He found that the reminiscences in
question were linked emotionally to promptings incompatible with
ethical standards, and violating the most common dictates of cul-
ture — here I use the terms 'ethical' and 'culture' in their broad-
est meaning. Persons mentally handicapped, those who undergo
'nervous' breakdowns or who give way entirely, becoming subjects
for sanitoria, are burdened with 'unethical' and 'irrational' cravings
of which they are often unaware. Mental and nervous disorders
are caused by an attempt of the primitive residue of the psyche
to break through. This proposition is as simple as it is funda-
mental to the proper understanding of the forces which govern
human nature. Freud found that ordinarily we are often prompt-
ed by bits of our racial past in the form of an obscure craving,
an unorganized attitude, a blind predisposition impelling us to
think or do things which consciousness would refuse openly to
contemplate. He found further that manifestations of this primitive,
raw, unmoral attitude together with the cravings to which it gives
rise, far from being exceptional, is the rule during the earlier
phases of our mental existence- namely, during the preconscious
stage of infancy and early childhood.
Incidentally Freud's discovery shows that in the course of its
development the individual mind repeats our racial history. The
details of Freud's work amount to a restatement of the recapitula-
tion theory applied to the biologic history of the mind. For the
first time there has been disclosed to us the manner in which
psychic recapitulation operates and its consequences.
Primordial cravings tliat persist are racial vestiges of the mind.
They are racial endowments belonging to early psychic stages in
our individual development just as certain structures and organs
of the embryo represent passing phases in the course of our phys-
ical development. Some embryonic organs disappear when higher
PSYCHO ANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 351
stages are reached; but certain other organs and structures persist
ji..> ,, in rudimentary form long after their functions have ceased. But,
j;f' unUke the embryonic organs which disappear after fulfilling what-
tr ever role they may play during the embryonic phase of our phys-
^1 ical existence, unlike the rudimentary structures which are carried
;|; ^ forward but lie dormant and useless in the adult, the mental
.| vestiges of our earlier existence, our primordial cravings, our racial
'^'; instincts persist in their raw and naked form alongside the more
complex, subtle emotions, ideals and aspirations which we acquire
,..: ' in later life as the heritage of historic civilization. Our raw instincts
0k not only persist but so long as they are allowed to remain 'un-
|§^ charted' within us they compete with consciousness for mastery
• ;^^ over our conduct.
Man's unconscious, the bearer ol the racial past, the instinct-
ive and primordial in human nature, functions long before con-
sciousness is awakened. Its beginnings cannot be traced. It seems
to be always present. It reaches far beyond any stage in our in-
^f dividual development which can be subjected to direct investiga-
^^ tion. All we know is that during intra-uterine existence the foetus
^■; ■ already shows reactions which must have a psychic counterpart,
Ije it ever so vague. Certain it is that our mental life does not
begin with consciousness; and consequently any psychology that
concerns itself with consciousness to the total exclusion of the
unconscious is neglecting the greater for the lesser part of our
mental existence. The unconscious has back of it a biologic history
of millions of years compared to which the phyletic period of
man's consciousness is like the efflorescence of an hour. A proper
• knowledge of the unconscious will enable us the better to pene-
trate the^ mental processes of primitive folk and to reconstruct, as
it were, the kind ot world in which man's ancestors moved, lived
■ and had their being. Finally we can understand neither the mental
aspects of childhood and infancy nor the true requirements of
education unless we appreciate the significance, extent, operation
and consequences of our unconscious mental processes.
Sleep is a state during which it is possible for the unconscious
within us to find a sort of vicarious expression. Dreams are largely
the expression of the unconscious, hence the significance of the
meaning of dreams; hence the fundamental importance of Freud's
discovery of the technique and methodology for the interpretation
of dreams.
■ '4
,:4
24
3S2 JAMES S. VAN TESLAAR
V
For the first time since Darwin announced his discoveries, an
important corollary of the theory of evohition — recapitulation — is
thus proven to hold good of the psyche. It happens that the onto-
genetic account of the mind is of greatest practical significance
because in no other field is an appreciation of the workings of
recapitulation so important. Thus it is interesting to know that
the appendix, for instance, is a vestigial organ representing a phase
of existence during which man's dietary habits were what we call
today 'vegetarian'. It is interesting to know tliat certain sets of
muscles around our ears prove that at one stage in his long past
man had the ability to move his ears in all directions witli the
agility displayed to-day by animals depending for safety upon acute
hearing more than man does. Such remnants are tell-tale signs of
man's previous history, as much as the findings exhibited in our
museums of natural history. They testify as to man's past habits
and ways of living. But when the appendix becomes inflamed it
is no longer a matter of 'museum interest' for the person con-
cerned. And if all the vestigial, embryonic organs and structures
were to persist and flare up into activity, a difficult and serious
situation would arise.
That is precisely what often happens upon the mental sphere.
Phases of our past, in the widest sense of the term, tend to per-
petuate themselves 'in their original image', as it were.
An occasional strong flaring up and more commonly, a con-
tinuous functional persistance of the mental equipment character-
istic of our early stages of existence is the rule rather than the
exception. This is precisely what makes an understanding of the
processes of psychic recapitulation a matter of such capital impor-
tance in the study of human behavior.
In spite of the refinements of civilization, in spite of the in-
fluence of education, religion, precept or preachment, our mental
equipment still persists in its primordial forms. Eventually most
of the cravings of the human race, our raw instincts, undergo
transformations and refinements. But for a long time these cravings
continue to manifest themselves very much 'in the raw'. We recog-
nise this fact when we remark that 'the child is a savage' or that
'youth is callous and cruelly selfish'. As youth passes into man-
hood and womanhood respectively it learns to abide by the more
PSYCHOANALYSIS AND THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE 353
refined manifestations of the instincts which make up life. But the
instincts are never abandoned. They are only refined. Moreover
they persist and occasionally flare up in their 'original image*.
The recapitulation theory, so interesting in other fields of
biology, becomes here of the utmost practical significance.
It will be understood, of course, that the idea of recapitulation
had been conceived as a principle of mental development and
somewhat exploited long before Freud. Various attempts, some of .
them more ingenious than convincing, had been made to trace
correspondences between the behavior of children and the life of
primitive people on the supposition that children and so-called
savages stand psychically close to each other.
We have long been familiar with such expressions as 'the
childhood of the human race' and by many comparisons we have
been led to infer what is implied. The propensity of children for
chmbing, for instance, has been described as a vestigial tendency
harking back, as it were, to the arboreal habits of man's ancestors.
Children's games, peculiar choices, curious likes and dislikes, and
many of their imageries have been similarly related. But all such
observations were conjectural. Proof was lacking.
Freud has stumbled upon the proof; and what is more, he has
had the sagacity to recognise the importance of his discovery for
science. He has disclosed the role of ontogenetic recapitulation
in the growth and interplay of our psychic forces.
For the first time in the history of psychology we now have
the key to the understanding of human behavior in the light of
its biological history.
The technique which Freud has evolved largely in the con-
nection with the analysis of dreams for sounding, investigating and
charting the realm of man's unconscious is one of the most im-
portant contributions in the history of science. The practical bene-
fits of this discovery have only begun to be realised. Psychology
is but beginning to redeem the promise it had long held out of
becoming a practical guide in the conduct of our everyday life.
Received May 25, 1921.
24*
ANAL-EROTIC CHARACTER TRAITS IN SHYLOCK
by
ISADOR H. CORIAT, Boston, Mass.
Shakespeare's character of Shylock, the central figure of 'The
Merchant of Venice', has been one of the male characters in the
marvellous gamut of the Shakespearean drama whose essential
traits have evoked varying interpretations, thus placing it in the
same category with Hamlet, Lear, and Macbeth. Whether or not
he was a blood-thirsty villain or a man more sinned against than
sinning, or whether he showed character traits which were to be
expected in one of his race and tradition, are subjects over which
the controversy of Shakespearean criticism has raged. It has been
the fashion to compare the character of Shylock with that of
Barrabas in Marlowe's ']ew of Malta'. This parallel however, is
incorrect in its general essentials, for Barrabas carried his long
suppressed hate to the point of sadistic lust murders, a trait which
is entirely absent in Shylock; for Shylock's wishes at no time
during their development had any of the horrors of the revenge
of Barrabas.
The sources of the plot of 'The Merchant of Venice' and of
the character of Shylock have been traced to old ballads, such as
the song of Gernutus, Italian romances (U Pecorone), Persian and
Indian legends, the 'Jew of Malta' and finally an old German
comedy. Thus there were many analogies in European and
Oriental literature to the two intertwined stories which may be
termed the pound of flesh theme and three caskets theme, which
constitute the main plot of the 'Merchant of Venice'. It appears
that Shylock was made a Jew to appeal to the popular prejudice
of the time. As Elze states ^ 'His (Shakespeare's) public wished
above all things to see Shylock crushed' and it may be added
that Shakespeare completely fulfilled the wishes of that public.
Most of the critical interpretations of Shylock's character have
insisted on the essential Jewish traits. For instance Hudson states
that Shylock is 'thoroughly and intensely Jewish, with strong
» Karl Elze; Essays, 1874.
354 ;•: .
■ ?**i.
ANAL-EROTIC CHARACTER TRAITS IN SHYLOCK 355
national traits interwoven with personal traits'. Brandes in his
f ;' , fine criticism regards Shylock from the same standpoint: 'Shake-
,^ ' :' speare has seized upon and reproduced racial characteristics and
tV, emphasized what is peculiarly Jewish in Sliylock's culture'.
;^; ' .' It is impossible to agree with these interpretations, for when
fShylock's character traits are examined according to psycho-
analytic conceptions, it will be found that they are not specifically
• . . Jewish, but universal, and that the same traits may exist in all
men and women. Analysis ofShylock's character is able to show,
^M first, that it is not particularly Jewish and secondly, that his love
;;^^ for money and his hate and revenge spring from the same un-
-,^ conscious sources, in other words they are merely the outward
■^M projections! of strong anal-erotic tendencies. These anal-erotic im-
4M pulses are the same in all men and as a result of racial repression
*M any individual may show an outburst of the same strong charac-
teristics as Shylock and react as he has done. The*e character
■_-_j; traits have been precipitated into the unconscious of all mankind
^m- ^t"*^™ ^^^ experience of previous generations and it is only the
*m moral code of culture and civilization which keeps them suppressed.
•^, Under proper conditions these egoistic and anal-erotic components
emerge and dominate the personality and thus become manifest
either as an instinct for the possession of money or a stubborn
wish for revenge.
f;W A few of the Shakespearean critics have possessed sufficient
1^1 ■ . insight into Shylock's character to refer to the anal-erotic compon-
mM ' • ents in a vague manner, but without, however, clearly under-
bill ■ ■ standing them. Giles 2 for instance cites the feeling of power and
P^ omnipc^ence in Shylock and states: 'His energy is restricted to
[|||- ' one mode of power, the power of money. To have potency he
must have money '. Heine, with his remarkable insight, clearly saw
the ambivalent! tendencies of Shylock's character, the love of
money and revenge and the love for his daughter. He states:
'Shylock does indeed love money, but there are things which he
loves still more, among them his daughter ("Jessica, my girl")
f^M Although he curses her in his rage and would see her dead at
his feet with the jewels in her ears and the ducats in her coffin,
he loves her more than ducats or jewels'.
1 [These two words are here used in a sense peculiar to the author, not
in thtir usually accepted sense. Ed.]
■ . . = Human Life iu Shakespeare, 1868.
i
356 IS ADO R H. CORIAT
In referring to Judaism, Weiningeri specifies that it is 'neither
a race nor a people nor a recognized creed. I think of it as a
tendency of mind, as a psychological constitution which is a poss-
ibility for all mankind'. This statement is of interest in any
psychoanalysis of Shylock, for it furnishes an insight into those
traits which have constantly been referred to as being peculiar to
the Jew in general and to Shylock in particular. As all men are
capable of homosexual object selection and often accomplish this
in their unconscious mental life, so all have the same anal-erotic
components which to a certain degree are so conspicuous in
Shylock.
The unconscious mind is so remote from the conscious mind,
that Freud's astonishing demonstration in 1908 of what he termed
the anal-erotic character traits has provoked the most intense
opposition and incredulity. These traits of adult life and their
dependence- on infantile sexual excitations in the anal canal have
been criticized as absurd and grotesque, yet anyone who carefully
worked in psychoanalysis is soon absolutely convinced of the
soundness and validity of Freud's ideas.
Without going into the mechanism and genesis of these traits,
it seems sufficient merely to enumerate them for the purpose in
view, namely the analysis of the various aspects of Shylock's
character. These features when they occur in a highly developed
anal-erotic individual are orderliness, parsimony, miserliness and
obstinacy, to which may be added love of money, hate, revenge,
love of children, defiant disobedience and procrastination. Nearly
all these will be found well defined in the character of Shylock
if the development of the play and the text are carefully studied.
Shylock is portrayed as a wealthy Jew of Venice in whom
the love of money, as shown by his often reiterated reference to
his 'ducats', is a distinguishing trait. With the love of his money,
Shakespeare with a remarkable insight emphasizes the tenderness
for his daughter Jessica, as a sort of unconscious identity of
the two most valuable possessions of his life — his daugliter and
his ducats. As Jones points out: 'One of the most impressive
traits in the whole gamut of the anal character is the extra-
ordinary and quite exquisite tenderness that some members ol
the type are capable of, especially with children; this is no doubt
strengthened both by the association with innocence and purity . . .
1 Otto Wcininger: Sex and Character, p. 303.
ANAL-EROTIC CHARACTER TRAITS IN SHYLOCK 357
and by the reaction-formation against the repressed sadism that
so commonly goes with marked anal erotism'.^ This is well
shown in the speech of Salanio where the elopement of Shylock's
daughter Jessica is described:
My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! (II, viii).
That Shylock is a miser, that he collects, gathers and hoards
money and gives none or very little out, even in the management
of his own household, is demonstrated in the speech of Laun-
celot Gobbo, the servant of Shylock, where he states: 'I am
famished in his service, you may tell every finger I have with
my ribs' (II, ii). Shylock is a miser because money means power
to him and, as Ferenczi states, ^ 'The adult's symbolic interest in
money gets extended not only to objects with similar physical
attributes, but to all sorts of things that in any way signify value
or possession . . . The enjoyment at possessing it has its deepest
and amplest source in coprophilia'.
Studies in anal erotism have demonstrated that whenever
archaic methods of thought prevail, such as the neuroses, dreams
superstition and unconscious thinking, money has been brought
into the closest connection with filth and scatological rites. This
superstition is shown in the fairy tale of the goose which laid
the golden eggs and in many legends, poems and linguistic ex-
pressions. Ferenczi has also emphasized the transition from the
infantile idea of excrement to the apparently remote symbol of
money. '
For instance, in the analysis of a compulsion neurotic with
strong anal-erotic traits and superstitions the following dream
occurred: He was paying the man in coin for commission on
some goods and the man gave the money to a horse to eat
and then the dreamer recovered the money from the manure
of the horse and stuffed it into a big sausage for safe keeping
have a dream which coincides with the superstition of bringing
Here we the discovery of treasure into association with the act o
) 1 Ernest Jones : ' Anal-Erotic Character Traits ', Papers on Psycho-
Analy.-is, 2nd. ed. 1918, p. 682.
2 S. Ferenczi: 'The Ontogenesis ot Interest in Money", Contributions
to Psycho -Analysis, 1916, Chap. XIII.
' Loc. cit.
358 ISADOR H. CORIAT
defaecation. Now the profound significance of Shylock's words to
Jessica becomes clear:
Shylock, I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream ol money-bags to-night. (II, v)
Here we have an exquisite combination of the precipitation of
strongly repressed anal-erotic traits into the unconscious, produc-
ing the dream of 'money bags' the superstitious interpretation
of the dream, the hate of Shylock and the love and tenderness
for his daughter. In addition, the scatological symbolism of
'money-bags' in the dream is very apparent to workers in psycho-
analysis. This relationship with the usual Elizabethan freedom of
coprophilic expression is also seen in the last words of Shylock's
warning to Jessica.
Fast bind, fast find,
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. (II, v)
Shylock's sadism as shown in his literal demand for the pound
of flesh is already found foreshadowed in his 'aside', when he
first meets Antonio, the 'aside' I take it, as in all dramas, being
a sort of a day-dream.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. (I, iii)
and the later words: /
Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him! (I, iii)
This sadistic hate is further emphasized in the following
dialogue :
•• ANAL-EROTIC CHARACTER TRAITS IN SHYLOCK 359
Salarino. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his
flesh; what's that good for?
Shylock. To bait fish withal, if it will feed nothing else, it
will feed my revenge. (Ill, i)
This is what Brandes probably meant when he said, in speaking
^^. of the character of Shylock 'Money is nothing to him in com-
^P': , , parison with revenge. His hatred for Antonio is far more intense
''^' than his love for his jewels and it is the passionate hatred, not
avarice, that makes him the monster he becomes'.
^M^ ■ ■ As Ernest Jones ^ has pointed out, an observation which was
^^ ■ subsequently confirmed by Freud, there is a strong unconscious
f^- • psychological connection between hate and anal erotism. This
t^" connection is seen to an extreme degree in Shylock. From this
hate there arises the sadism of Shylock with its pleasure in the
anticipation of inflicting pain on the hated person as a form of
y~., defiance. This character trait of sadistic hate is developed to its
fullest extent in the trial scene, where Shylock is preparing to
have the due and forfeit of his bond.
vl
Bassanio.Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
^gv;^ Shylock. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. (IV, i)
\f-SS.
Here in this wonderful scene, the hate of Shylock, the pleasure
in the anticipation of inflicting pain and seeing others suffer, is
strongly over-emphasized and becomes stronger than the love for
money.
Bassanio.Yov thy three thousand ducats here is six.
Shylock. If every ducat in six thousand ducats
^^; ^ Were in six parts and every part a ducat,
• I would not draw them ; I would have my bond. (IV, i)
Thus is portrayed with astonishing accuracy another anal-erotic
trait, the idea or feeling of power, showing the deep connection
between power and anal erotism or between force and possession,
the sadistic and the anal-erotic impulses. For until the legal quibble
■of the distinguished Portia, Shylock's feeling of power over an
» Ernest Jonts: 'Hate and Anal Erotism in the Obsessional Neuroses'.
Papers on Psycho-Analysis, 2nd. Edition. 1918.
360
ISADOR H. CORIAT
unfortunate fellowman and the pleasure which this power brings
is reinforced by the admission of the Duke that Shylock's demand,
cruel and blood-thirsty as it may seem, is a just one and within
the law.
The conclusion to be drawn from this short analysis of Shylock's
character is that all men in whom there are highly developed
anal-erotic character traits, particularly those referring to money,
power, hate, would have reacted, under the same circumstances
of social repression, in much the same way that Shylock reacted.
We may assume, therefore, from the data as revealed by the dis-
tinguishing traits of anal erotism, that Shylock's character was
not of a particular racial type, but that such character traits can
be found in all individuals where these traits are so little repressed
and so highly developed as profoundly to modify their relations
to their fellow men. The same unconscious impulses and motiva-
tions under the same conditions which reacted on Shylock would
be able to produce identical tendencies to power and revenge.
Received June 13, 1921.
si*
frS'
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRYi
by
AUGUST STARCKE, den Dolder, Holland.
THE INVESTIGATOR AND HIS METHODS
The application of psycho-analysis to the psychoses has not led
to an effective therapy like its use in the transference neuroses
and more recently the war neuroses. The pathological explanation
of the psychoses, however, has undergone radical alterations through
Freud's concepts, just as was the case with chemistry as a result
of Dalton's and Lavoisier's work. The aim of any discussion of the
issues relative to this subject must be to ascertain the reasons why
^■. the outcome of this new psychopathology has been a new
I therapy for the 'neuroses', and not one for the 'mental diseases',
!'■ . and also to suggest possible improvements. In this paper we shall
be concerned with these improvements only in so far as they
relate to the investigator and his methods.
Psychiatrist and analyst are dissimilar in their nature, their
subject of investigation, their hopes and their methods. Both have
the same mass of symptoms for their material, but the difference
lies in their conception of it.
As contrasted with the analyst, the psychiatrist suffers from
certain definite psychic scotomata. The subject of his investigation
is the conscious, the brain as its hypothetical correlate, and the
body in general.
The analyst is characterised by the removal of the scotomata,
so far as we recognise them. His sphere of investigation is extended
to the unconscious; he puts the libido and the ego impulses as
hj'pothetical correlates behind the phenomena.
The primary medical aim — to establish the diagnosis — has a
different significance in psychiatry from that which it has elsewhere.
It is usual in medicine to allocate the case, according to its dia-
1 Translated by Douglas Bryan.
361
^-.
362 AUGUST STARCKE
gnosis, to a group of cases with a definite aetiology or a definite
anatomical basis, or with a definite prognosis and where possible
a definite therapy. In psychiatry this rule applies only to the in-
fective diseases and grosser lesions of the brain, which comprise
a relatively small percentage of the cases. In by far the greater
number of cases the diagnosis gives no indication of the causes,
no anatomy or useful prognosis (fifty per cent of errors in one of
the best clinics), and no therapy. The therapeutic measures in
vogue are based more on sympathy than science and the results
are nothing to be proud of. Under these circumstances the relation
of psycho-analysis to psychiatry seems to be summed up in the
statement that its relation to psychiatry is the same as to any
other psychic formation of doubtful utility; psycho-analysis has to
interpret the formation and endeavour to remove it in order to
replace it by something useful. If we were to adopt this view,
however, we should commit a triple injustice.
First, we should underestimate the results that psychiatry has
to show, not as regards the understanding of the psychoses but In
sundry matters of secondary importance. Jt may even be admitted
that the finer anatomy and physiology of the central nervous
system, of the sense organs and endocrine glands, is building a
very promising foundation; and a bridge can be carried from this
foundation to Freud's theories if the building is not prematurely
wrecked on the same obstacle at which clinical psychiatry has made
a halt and turned aside, namely, sexuality.
These methods of study, however, are not psychiatry, but its
auxiliary sciences, which in other respects are independent and
fully adequate in themselves. Psychiatry can signify nothing other
than the science of the medical treatment of the mind.
A second and historically important fact, which we must not
overlook, is that psychiatry has not always proceeded in such
a helpless and fluctuating manner as in the last thirty or forty
years. It had been on the best road to discover the fixation of
the libido as the cause of the failure of adaptation. The word
hysteria — which formerly comprised all kinds of cases that now
are included in other psychotic types — bears witness to this. The
oldest theories asserted that the wanderings of the uterus throughout
the body were the cause of hysteria. When Galen proved that
these wanderings were impossible, the blame was attributed to
retention of semen or blood in the uterus, since tlie humours could
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY , 363
decompose and the enlarged uterus would be damaged by poisonous
products or by pressure. This was modified later to the view that
conditions of irritation of the genitals could pass over to the nervous
system. Romberg (1851) ^ endeavoured to reconcile witli each other
the alternative conceptions of hysteria as a disease of the uterus
or of the brain, conceptions in which he considered the theories
of hysteria known at that time culminated. He maintained that
Ji. hysteria was a reflex neurosis caused by genital irritation. He made
i'^. ■ the important observation, 'that it is not necessary for a sensation
's^ • - to become conscious to produce reflex action . . .' According to
t Jolly (1877) 2 sexual abstinence and over-stimulation are important
causes of illness. After this the subject of sex disappeared more
% ,' and more from psychiatry. Griesinger, Meynert and the large
number of brain anatomists, as well as the Salpetriere School,
became tlie authorities on the subject. Since Charcot, Pitres, Janet,
and Raymond, hysteria has been considered a psychosis, as previously
a great part of the psychoses were considered hysteria. The difference
is that the latter view meant something, namely, the sexual origin
=^-.-" of the psychoses, whereas the former view is only an expression
of our infantile hope to discover somewhere in the brain chaste
reasons for the indecent actions of hysterics. Psycho-analysis appears
f^^yi- as the normal continuation of the general line of development, of
1^1 which the pre-Freudian psychiatry, since Charcot and Griesinger,
i^Ss', constitutes simply an interruption, an incident, the temporary hyper-
il§^/ . trophy of a newly discovered principle, an incident, however, which
pi has meant delay and stoppage in the discovery of the psychic
M - nature of hysteria, because progress on tins patli urgently required
the investigation of the psychic sexuality of the normal person.
Here was tlie barrier which the investigators avoided and which
\^:M also turned from its course the investigation of the brain.
Freud, as we know, has broken through this barrier like a
'■'^' ':' battering-ram, and has thus secured the progress of psychiatry.
i^- Thirdly, we must not blind ourselves to the fact that the psycho-
i^y analytical doctrine also affords its subjective gratification. Nobody
can bear to turn exclusively to objects. And if Freud has taught
j ' us to look at facts, and facts only, he has also taken the lead in
I ^ recognising the co-operation of the pleasure-principle even in his
%}M, " M. H. Romberg: Lehrbuch der Nervenkrankheiten, 1851, II, S. 209 ff.
^'•*--' ■' t F. Jolly: Hysteric und Hypochondrie in v. Ziemssen Handbuch,
2. Auflage, 1877. , ;- ---'■, . . ^ .-■. •
mt
364 AUGUST STARCKE
own scientific work.^ Just where science appears gratifying to our
mind we are to mistrust its results, if we wish to obey the law
of necessity — the reality-principle.
Science was faced with the problem of admitting the existence
of mental diseases as an unpleasant fact. Since it was not at the
time in the position to cure mental diseases, i. e. to change reality
itself so that it became endurable, science had to add to reality
sufficient intellectual gratification to serve as a support for the
impulse to investigate mental diseases (a compensation that is
found in every kind of science, including psycho-analysis), or else
to exclude so much from reality that at least the idea of reality
thus created became endurable. This was the path taken by the
pre-Freudian psychiatry. It allowed the investigator to regard the
mental diseases without too great discomfort and without having
to relinquish the over-estimation of his own ego. But it crippled
itself at the same time as far as its real purpose was concerned.
It had to replace the excluded part of reality — in this object, as
chance would have it, the principal part — by matters of secondary
importance. And where it would not wish to give up its particular
object, the mental disease, it had to fill up the existing paucity
of thoughts with foreign words, authors' names, literary references,
repetitions, and considerations loaded with the virtus dormitiva.
Thus in an extreme development of this nature it conveys the
impression of glossolaha.
Freud, on the other hand preferred to forego a piece of nar-
cissism from the start and thereby obtained the increase of the
object libido which he used for breaking through the obstruction. In
psycho-analytical literature the following are found as external
signs of this essentially different standpoint: the absence of in-
flation with references to the literature, etc., the absence of the
taboo of one's own language, the working with the nuclei of
concepts instead of limits of concepts, and with a fluid instead of
a fixed system of working theories, the absence of 'replies to
the preceding reply', the replacement of the antithesis, 'either-or
by 'and-and'.
Medical psycho-analysis thus appears as the psychiatry of a group
of observers who have all, following the lead of a single individual,
made mobile a part of their own narcissistic portion of libido.
The remaining fixations can be broken up after this keystone has
' See also Hegel, Nietzsche, Bolland, etc.
0'
I PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 365
been moved. We, as followers, found this procedure easier, because
we were able to allow the attraction of the newly discovered
fields for scientific thought to influence us. We must remember,
however, that the narcissism is always ready to creep up again.
This possibility threatens most easily from the side of morals,
.-i><' religion, and scientific and philosophical systems.
While the rest of the psychiatrists awaited the further elaborat-
ion of psychiatry chiefly through the improvement of instruments
and their methods of use, Freud recognised that in the first in-
stance the investigator should be improved and adapted to his
task. He demands that the investigator should have analysed him-
self or been analysed before he undertakes the study and treatment
^''- '■ of patients. This procedure is indispensable and not to be substi-
"■f tuted by anything, not even by the profound study of psycho-
-f^,- analytical literature. He who adopts this course gains a widening
of his mental field of vision that henceforth becomes his most
valuable instrument. Problems that were previously hidden in im-
penetrable darkness become illuminated as by the sunrise.
i^i , The field of the psychoses is not, as is imagined, the most
-M difficult, but the easiest field of psychology to work upon. Palaeo-
:'ii ' psychic layers that otherwise lie deeply buried and can only be
,5^ reached after laborious mining are exposed to view in the psych-
oses. Those things which are betrayed in the life of the healthy
person and the neurotic only through indications, the real value
of which can only be recognised through the microscope of psycho-
analysis, are visible to all, in caricature-like enlargement, in the
mental patient. The only need is eyes that can see and ears that
If^': \ can hear. But the investigator can neither hear nor see because
' he does not wish to see or hear, because the repressions of the
normal person prevent it.
Science always serves two different purposes, which the poet
has symbolised clearly and briefly as the milch-cow and the godd-
ess. The first of these is a social and above all a material pur-
pose. The investigator's task is to bring a further portion of the
external world that has been created by the mind by means of
the sense organs of distance (hearing, sight, smell) into the reach
of the sense organs of proximity (feeling, taste), and to get the
useful part ready for incorporation. For this object, which is more
r of service to society than to the investigator, it is necessary for
>■ the latter to sacrifice a part of his own personal happiness.
t-' .:.
3S6 AUGUST STARCKE
The second purpose is, on the other hand, subordinated only to
the pleasure-principle. It concerns the upholding by magic thoughts,
words and gestures of ethical, aesthetic and logical illusions con-
cerning the ego and the external world. Here science encounters
the competition of art and religion. The high gratification which
science is also able to afford is only born when it, like art and
religion, uses the everyday case for the representation of the
sublime. It is just at this moment that it misses its other material-
social purpose. The investigator, however, then receives his reward.
Society is not uniformly agreed as to the second purpose. So
far as society is able to experience in itself the happiness of the
investigator, this aim of science is also to be called social; other-
wise society is soon ready to disqualify him under any available
excuse.
The orientation ot psycho-analysis to these two purposes is
different from that of the rest of psychiatry. The essential diifer-
ence is a displacement in the direction of the reality-principle. ^
I have already enumerated the external symptoms of this. The
two following characteristics which result from removal of the
repression in the technique of research have a more intimate con-
nection with this difference. Firstly, the tendency to return from
the type to the isolated fact, in contrast to clinical psychiatry
which exhausts itself in creating types. Secondly, the capacity of
enduring unanswered questions and unsolved problems, in contrast
to the compulsion in the non-analytical psychiatry to solve and
to finish with problems, even if the solution be only illusory (e. g.
the histology of the psychoses). In the endeavour to surrender
this illusion of power we again recognise the same capacity to
endure pain [Unlust) and delay gratification which we strive for
in the patient by means of the treatment. It is true that the attain-
ment of the original purpose is also delayed in the investigation
of the brain, but a substitute is soon found and mastery obtained
over this substitute, whereby the material-social purpose falls into
the background, while the happiness of the investigator becomes
correspondingly more pure.
The sacrifice that the investigator makes to society by psycho-
analysis is twofold. The first has already been discussed. It con-
cerns the limitation of the high gratification of the pure desire for
' See Binswanger's article in th& Internationale Zeitschrift fur Psycho-
analyse, Bd. VII, S. 137.
^m
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 367
world-creating knowledge, for this is the happiness of the investig-
ator. He must not surrender himself to the intoxication of creat-
ion, but as soon as possible get ready for further advance. The
edifice of hypotheses and the world illusion that arises from it are
to serve as working theories and not for. aesthetic enjoyment.
Self-criticism compels us to recognise that there is still much im-
j'p" provement needed in this direction. The writer at least knows how
;# far he is removed from complying with his own claims.
The second is a more secondary one. It concerns the over-
P^ . coming of the counter-transference. The old (laboratory) psychiatry
solves this counter-transference according to the mechanism of
the obsessional neurosis; it either keeps out of the way of the
patient or approaches him only through the intervention of a host
of apparatus of all kinds, which besides their alleged practical
significance have also symbolic meanings that make them suited
to give the repressed and suppressed tendencies a discharge by
'■ something resembling a short circuit, which means useless waste
of energy during the work. The analyst renounces this gratifica-
tion; he endeavours to direct the forces, which finally drive him
^ijM' also to the work, as directly as possible to the cultural aim, that
r.Hhi' : of .education.
1^ - , Reading psycho-analytical literature also demands extra work.
kiM% In the usual psychiatry only the assimilation of the new material
p|:5;' ■ _ is of moment. In psycho-analysis we have in addition to consider
S'^-j^i the change necessary for the understanding of one's own psyche,
namely, the mobilisation of fixed quantities. This absolute need
for the overcoming of resistances is in all probability the reason
for the remark often heard that psycho-analytic works are of such
!;> .. ' bad style, vague or unintelligible. In view of all these sacrifices the
question may be asked, how is it that anyone ever becomes an
analyst? The answer must be that necessity, the most powerful
factor of civilisation, has furnished the motive. ;.!/■> nriHm(h^Ti,v,
^,1-,!, The principal demand for. the psychiatric investigation of the
'. mental patient was to establish, to register, and to measure by
every means all the phenomena and spontaneous expressions of
the mental patient, and further to initiate methodical investigations
in which both stimulus and effect are strictly determined (Sommer).
:, irThis technique becomes sterile through the fact that the in-
vestigator does not know his 'personal errors', and therefore can-
not take into account the deviations arising from them. The
86
I;;^'^
368 AUGUST STARCKE
observation of sexuality, genital as well as infantile auto-erotic, is
radically destroyed by these psychical scotomata, and where ob-
servation and registration of sexual factors still take place it is
left out of account in working up the materials.
The following example shows how these scotomata hinder the
anamnesis. This sexual anamnesis of a male schizophrenic (four
reactions negative), aged thirty-five, was obtained by an experien-
ced lunacy and nerve specialist.
15. Was the sexual impulse strong or perverse? How did it
express itself?
Answer: As usual.
25. What was the nature of your mode of Ufe? (Excesses in
love or wine, mental or bodily stress.)
Answer: No excesses. Four years ago the patient had joined
a woman abroad, having been previously disillusioned by being
in love with a respectable girl who had refused his offer of
marriage.
The analyst was able to obtain the following 'additions' by
simple questioning.
Excessive masturbation in his youth and recently, once to five
times a night. He made his first attempt at coitus on his sister
who was about two years his senior when he was fourteen years
old. This attempt his sister confirmed. From the age of seventeen
onwards he had regular intercourse with prostitutes, gonorrhaea
six times, and a lengthy treatment for dilatation of a stricture.
Eight years ago he had an ulcer of the penis for which he was
treated by injections and drugs for four or five years. Nine years
ago he had relations with an actress. He was twice engaged and
each time broke it off after a short while. He became depressed
after the marriage of his sister.
There was no question of suggestion here, as shown by the
confirmation of the incest.
In the methodical registration of stimulus and effect, the facts
which show that the stimulus Is also of significance for the im-
pulses of the patient are just as methodically ignored. Whether
the investigator is a man or a woman, whether he is old or young,
whether he has known the patient for some time or not, in a
word this whole mass of impulse which as transference and
counter-transference psycho-analysis makes the object of the in-
vestigation, is lacking in psychiatrical case descriptions. There is
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 369
only one means of getting round this defect, namely, psycho-
analysis. Its use in the investigation of mental patients requires
in the first instance its previous use upon the investigator. Then,
having regard to the child-like nature of the patient, the material
has to be collected mostly in the same way as Dr. von Hug-
Hellmuth has suggested for child analysis, namely, in play ^ and
conversation. As it is more difficult to obtain a useful positive
transference in these patients, the relation has to become some-
thing more real than in the analysis of the transference neuroses.
The rule must be adhered to that only the minimum of discharge
shall be permitted. It suffices to study the effect of commands and
prohibitions prescribed by the situation, and the effect of small
gifts.
In society a good mutual relationship is only made possible
through positive mutual transference: relics of the unconscious idea
to stand to others in the relation of father or mother (brother,
sister, husband) and the necessary feelings of love, are absorbed
in the social relationships. This unconscious Constellation is, as we
know, used in the treatment in order to be transferred on society
in a more highly organised form via the analyst, and in order to
re-establish the patient's rapport with society. The analyst avoids
a stoppage of the process at the intermediate station, his own
person, by carrying out the analysis of the transference in stages.
Through the limitation of the material relation the transference
becomes continually over-charged and accessible to analysis.
This method however fails in institutional patients. Most of
them have a rather hostile attitude from the beginning. They see
in the doctor a jailer (the worst of it is that the conditions
force him to be really such), and in order to obtain a be-
ginning of contact he has to make use of the expedient of
favouritism or gifts; he thereby creates at the same time a degree
of actual relationship which he would like to avoid. Here the claims
of the institutional doctor and the analyst diverge. The former
accepts the father-r61e, readily seeks the real relation, and tries to
profit by it in order to bring the patient to the highest possible
degree of obedience and dependence, and to lead him along this
path to work and social utility. The analyst meets with resistances
in the analysis that are unconquerable, because the patient has it
• The 'association experiment' belongs here. It has no special advan-
tages over other occupations in common.
25*
370 AUGUST STARCKE
in his power every time to enforce active intervention on the part
of the doctor by incorrect conduct, and because some quantities
which have been temporarily freed from their fixations flow off
directly as short-circuits.
I have, on the other hand, occasionally tried to safeguard
myself against this by transferring the management of the discipline
and all active intervention to the head nurse, but I found that she
now received the bulk of the transference which should have
helped my analysis.
Each case has to be decided on its merits. Preceding or inter-
current physical examination has proved advantageous in some
cases, but in the majority unusually hindering.
Finally one has to take into account that the temporary symptom
formation can assume a very crude form. A schizophrenic to whom
I had proved that he was in love with one of his female relatives,
rewarded me by a sudden blow with his fist that left a depressed
spot as a lasting remembrance. Another schizophrenic who had
confessed a secret to me immediately attacked me and then
tiarned upon himself with the result that he wounded himself in
the wrist with a window-pane that he had struck. Later he so far '
recovered that he was able to take up his difficult occupation.
Of course such sudden acts of violence occur also in con- i
sequence of trifling motives outside analytic investigation, they are |
not to be ascribed to the analysis, but to the low stage of organ- |
isation of the patient's motility, though an analytic talk, like any '' |
other, can cause the excitation. This possibility compels us to be
more careful with communications to the patient, and to take care
of ourselves. Dangerous patients I place in a corner behind a
heavy table, or I use the hours when he is in a cold bandage.
I am not so pessimistic as most people regarding the possibility
of a therapy for the insane in institutions, a therapy which, if not
true analysis, is nevertheless carried out according to the theses
gained from analysis. The improvements seen after moving the
patient to another location should make us think. There are many
possibilities in the direction of Ferenczi's 'active psycho-analytic
technique', and in the direction of combination with the cathartic pro-
cedure, which still lie within our scotoma owing to our personal
imperfections. If, as is likely, schizophrenia finds an organic basis
in the loss of equilibrium between the germ and puberty glands,
we can point out that both are interpolated in the whole chain of
:lff:
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 3??l
the sympathetic paths, and are accessible to psychic influence.
The chief aim is the study of the aetiology and with it of pro-
phylaxis.
The success ah-eady attained by Freud also shows us the
method that will play the principle part in the later development
f-M ' of psychiatry. The psychiatrist will have to renounce a further
^■^% portion of his narcissism. '• '^
';ij«' We have arrived at the conviction that important sources of
,;'„^\ error as regards the results lie in the person of the investigator.
i;'^, 'In astronomy it has long been known that the personal error has
^:h" . to be taken into account in the observation. Besides, it is known
how the utility of working theories has previously suffered from
'^ ■ the fact that the earth was considered the centre of the universe,
|>^. , and how the sacrifice of this over-valuation led at once to a great
if#- V advance of science, even though at first it suffered from strong
Y.^f- and active opposition on the part of the ruling powers.
f^^; , i -ill, What was possible for astronomy has also to serve for psychiatry.
tjM We also have to learn to sacrifice that part of our self-overestimation
1^;^^ ' which places in the centre and considers unassailable our truth, our
^£ religion, our standard of civilisation. We have to give up the
!&•; narcissistic and infantile idea that development is the path to
|:'_v|;. greater ' purposiveness ' of action. Every action is purposive for
^ ■ our one purpose, that of the libido, and without purpose for our
other purpose, that of the ego impulses, or vice versa, or for both.
In human development is to be seen perhaps only the one guiding
line — that of the progressive retardation of the discharge, i. e. pro-
longation of life. Biologically considered this certainly is not
always an advantage for the species, and if carried out unchecked
the principle, which paralyses the elasticity of the' species, could
just as well destroy it as it has destroyed other great species.
The psycho-analytical continuation of psychiatry will have to
free itself from the arrogance that lies hidden in the word 'subli-
mation'. This word has been invented by a philosopher, and is
better replaced by 'domestication', or 'taming'. Where possible
' these judgements as to value must be avoided. In the end nobody
can do this, but they can be postponed — and in the meantime
analysed — to the point where the doctor steps in, i. e. the therapy,
or the prophylaxis. It is then found that the points of attack and
the direction of this help are quite different from those of the
present psychiatry, which leaves its aims wholly to the rest of
372 AUGUST STARCKE
society. The psycho-analytic psychiatry which has developed from
the Freudian 'behaviour '-psychology of the human being has further
aims. It should not be forgotten that it has a double task. When
the analyst teaches the individual to limit his libidinous ex-
pressions to vi^hat is allowed by society, and to lead the infantile
fixed libido again to civilised aims, and educates him to endure
mental privation, he has then a second more comprehensive duty
towards society, which, although dictated by the same healing
endeavour, leads in an opposite direction. He must reconcile society
with the libido, with death, in short with the unconscious.
This then will be the last and practically important consequence
of the difference between the psychiatrist and analyst. The old-
style psychiatrist is a servant of the censorship, an instrument of
society, he treats the 'out-casts'. The analyst, who has here and
there to some slight extent pushed aside the barrier of the cen-
sorship in himself, should use society itself as an instrument for
social progress, he must serve society without reference to the
censorship.
The reality-principle protects against dangers of a direct kind
which threaten from without, the pleasure-principle against the
inner danger of overloading and against remoter biological dangers.
To the neurotic the disadvantages of the pleasure-principle are
made clear, to society the disadvantages of a too exclusive homage
to the reality-principle must be brought forward. The normal
being, of whom we know least of all, must be discovered and if
necessary cured.
THE RELATIONS BETWEEN NEUROSES AND PSYCHOSES*
^ I
THE UNCONSCIOUS CRITERION
In Grimm's fairy tale of the white snake the servant tastes a
small portion from the king's secret dish, which contains a white
snake, and then all of a sudden he can understand the language
of birds.
' Including material presented in a paper read before the Sixth Inter-
national Psycho-Analytical Congress, The Hague, September, 1920.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 373
This simile characterises the revolutioa which Freud's teaching
has brought into the hfe of the psychiatrist who ventures to taste
the forbidden dish. The patient's gesticulations, his phantastic
delusions and confused nonsense, become full of meaning, and he
becomes again a human being among human beings. He is no
longer considered, as previously and even to-day by a number
of scientific physicians of institutions, a more or less worthless
appendage to his brain, his death being waited for with scarcely
repressed impatience; and not till dead, dissected in the laboratory,
does he become the object of an aesthetic cult of the dead. In
other words, Freud has made possible a useful counter-transference
to the failure or repression of which is due the retarded develop-
ment of psychiatry.
We have therefore arrived at a point which belongs to my
paper — namely, the problem of the relations between neuroses and
psychoses. The neurosis itself absorbs the interest of the physician
in the patient; the transference of the patient to the physician in-
creases this interest and helps to get over the advancing hostile
transferences. In mental patients transferences to the physician are
not lacking; their unpleasant, gross and hostile expressions are too
well known, they are transferences of an infantile or a negative
libido (hate transferences). The transference mania of hysterics
corresponds to the delusions of persecution in the psychoses,
the latter being the negative-libidinal analogue of the former, i
Negativism also is a kind of transference mania of negative
libido.
The first aim is to fix the criteria of the concepts ' neurosis '
and 'psychosis', and this is by no means easy. It has happened
in foro that the psychiatric expert, asked what actually constituted
a mental patient, has answered that he did not know. Therefore
we will consider the different criteria given by the laity (whose
opinion is here authoritative and also is expressed in legislation),
by psychiatry, and finally by psycho-analysis. Here we shall have
to make two digres-sions, one of which takes for its subject the
nosological position of civilisation as an entire phenomenon, the
other keeps in view the development of motor inhibition.
Difficulties arise from the fact that the psychotic person like
» Freud: ' Zur Dynamik der tJbertragung ', Zcntralbl. f, Psa., Bd. II,
S. 168 ff.: 'Where the capability of transference has become essentially negat-
ive, as in paranoia, the possibility of influence and cure ceases.'
374 AUGUST STARCKE
the neurotic only seeks advice on his own initiative in exceptional
cases. The concept of psychosis is only conceivable in a society ;
an isolated individual, Robinson Crusoe for instance, could have
a neurosis, but not a psychosis, because a psychosis can only exist
in relation to a society regarded as normal. Its criteria are:
1. Social troublesomeness, harmfulness, or failure of co-operation,
in as far as their motives are unintelligible to society. When they
are intelligible then the deviating individual is regarded as an
offender or criminal if he is defeated. If he knows how to carry
himself through, then he is regarded as a hero or great man.
2. Inability to appreciate the feelings of others. The relativity
of this criterion is evident ; so we have the constantly repeated
conflicts as to whether this or that symptom stamps a person as
a mental case.
3. B'ailure of relation to reality. I need only allude to the per-
secutions which science has suffered at the hands of religion in
order to demonstrate the subjective character of this criterion.
Whoever does not feel convinced of tliis might consider how
psycho-analysts are reproached by their opponents with failure of
relation to reality, and that it finally depends solely on the numerical
superiority of the one or other party whether society considers
the opponents as unfortunately left behind, or Freud's pupils as a
paranoiac sect. r.fs-.icu.
4. Lack of insight into the illness, or defence of his position
on the part of the patient by means of projection. As concerns ,.
logical response the mental patient is inaccessible. We trace this
peculiarity to reinforced narcissism. The number of 'normal' people 1
who lack any insight into the morbid nature of their peculiarities,
for example, alcoholics, is very great, yet they are not considered
mental cases; not to speak of religious and philosophical convic- j'
tions, the adherents of which mutually reproach one another with '^
the same charges. ^ ^i^ufo ^rprt rti :nm^']"
Failure of co-operation is also found in neurotics arid many
normal parasitic natures, and so our first mentioned criterion is
incomplete. Obviously a certain degree of capacity for positive
transference and intellectual performances can cause society to
' See also Dresslar's questionnaire referred to by Ernest Jones in the
Zmtralbl. f. Psa., Bd. II. Dresslar found 7176 descriptions of different super-
stitions in 875 American students; in 3225 cases there was belief in the
truth of the superstition.
■» -■.
\
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 375
<3isregard failure which otherwise would be considered complete.
The example of the intelligent paranoiac on the one hand, and
that of the lazy, superstitious and dishonest war-profiteer on the
other shows how little this criterion gratifies logical feelings.
I We might expect tiiat besides the conscious criteria one or
■, ,, more unconscious criteria exist, and that these will be decisive.
L?M Behind those various ways in which the mentally diseased are
openly recognised as constituting a danger to society there lies
another unmentioned one. We find indications of it in the attitude
with which the public regards the insane person; this attitude
contains a certain horror and at the same time an equally ill-
/\ ', founded sympathy. The normal person has a feeling of uncanni-
, Bess as regards the mental patient. The patient's incapability for
.;, normal conversation disturbs the belief in the power of spoken
!;p: words, and his apparent incapability of being influenced and his
|||v incurability disturb the belief in one's own omnipotence. The belief
t:^. .. in the magic power of the spoken word and the belief in the
.power over other human beings and nature in general rest on
narcissism. The normal person protects his narcissism, and prob-
}^- ably in a certain respect quite righdy, since physical health partly
^My depends upon it. This unconscious narcissism is severely affected
by association with mental patients.
The repressions of the normal person are endangered in yet
another way. In the wards of the troublesome mental patients one
is literally on a visit to the unconscious. Here the uncanny forces
of the deep can be denied no longer, they show themselves openly
like the glowing fire of a volcano, and call up in the visitor their
deep and distant rumblings.
Society considers as mad him who threatens to reveal to men
its unconscious, and knows no other means of defence against
such revelation than to isolate the madman. ,i.(Oi)i?,of|
This fifth criterion is the most important and compared with
it the remainder appear as pretexts. ; . ••.
,:?; -hy -"i'''-^ THE NORMAL AND THE ABNORMAL -'''i-'ini'r.'.H.
The criteria which psychiatry gives for mental disease will not
detain us long: there are none. On the other hand, the boundaries
i%-
376 AUGUST STARCKE
between the normal and abnormal are precisely stated. But as
soon as the question is put: How much abnormal performance /
must there be in order to constitute mental disease? the answer ,
is awaited in vain. When the psychiatrist has to express an opinion
on this matter he manifestly acts just like a layman with a general |
education. Here and there attempts are made to answer this
question on principle, but they are either too indefinite, for j|
example: (dans les psycho-nevroses) '. . . les symptomes psychiques ui
sont plus d^velopp6s que dans les nevroses simples ou partielles,
mais ils y sont moins accentu^s et moins constants que dans les |
v^sanies; le ddire, notamment, n'y est qu'un Episode accidentel .;
et transitoire alors qu'il est dp regie dans les v^sanies' (Ray-
mond) ;l or they appeal in the last resort to the above criticised lay
criteria of failure in adaptation to society, or of unintelligibility as I
regards logic: '. . . in consequence of their coildition they are unable
to guide themselves or preserve or respect the rights of others
(Forel) ; '. . . in consequence of their condition other persons are i
needed for their care and protection, or they cause annoyance, |
injury and danger to other individuals or to the public' (Erlen-
meyer).
It can be seen that these definitions are made according to
society, the rights of which are considered unassailable in contrast
to thosis of individuals. Forel's definition would include the maj-
ority of normal people.
There is no * medico-technical' diagnosis of 'mental disease'. ^
Psychiatry has good grounds for the fact that it will not define
the boundary sharply and according to scientific laws, otherwise
it would be inevitable that phenomena which have to be account-
ed as normal— like religion, superstition, amourousness, or even j
the normal feeling of 'reality'— would place it in an awkward
position.
Legislation makes it just as bad. In general it lays down that j,
'raving', 'mad', or 'weak-minded' persons, who through their I
illness are either robbed wholly of the use of their reason, or at
least incapacitated from perceiving the results of their actions,
must be put under restraint, and regarded as not or only partly
accountable or responsible for their actions: ' failure of the
capacity to act reasonably' (Switzerland, Z. G. B., par. 16.); *A state
' Nevroses et psycho-n6vroses. Trait6 international de Psychologie patho-
logique (A. Marie), Alcan, Paris, 1911.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY \ 377
of morbid disturbance of mental activity excluding the free deter-
mination of the will, so far as this state according to its nature is
not temporary'. (Germany, B, G. B., par. 104.); 'The concept of
mental disturbance has a special significance for every sphere of
law. Here it concerns something so specific that the same individual
can be a mental case in the meaning of one law and not one in
the meaning of another law ' (E. Schultze in Aschaffenburg, Hand-
buch der Psychiatrie).
The juridical definition of the concept of mental disease ('Failure
of free determination of will', 'Failure of the necessary insight')
has led a legal psychiatrist (O. Bumke in Aschaffenburg, Hand-
buch der Psychiatrie) to allude expressly to the lack of scientific
method underlying psychological concepts: 'Under circumstances
the expert has to emphasise in opposition to this that this insight
can exist, yet the capacity for employment — perhaps through dis-
turbances of the mental qualities or qualities of the will — can have
disappeared'.
While the absolute dependency of the concept of mental
disease on the tolerance of society is wholly unconscious in the
juridical definition of the concept, it begins to emerge in the
psychiatric formulations.
Psycho-analysis can only continue this order of development.
It has to accept the existence of the lay concept of mental disease
and trace it back to its unconscious origin, which we found in
the menace to cultural repression by the mentally affected person
in consequence of his inadequate capacity for untruth and dis-
simulation or repression and domestication. Psycho-analysis traces
back these incapabilities to definite consequences of instinctive
forces. It also shows that these consequences are found in numerous
occurrences of normal hfe which are not looked upon as 'mental',
because, as experience has shown, they only last a short time and
admit of a definitely favourable prognosis (Hke the slips of everyday
life), or — and tliis is valid for similar types of longer duration —
because they occur in so many individuals that the average human
being has been able to establish his repressions particularly firmly
in this respect, and that he is always opposed to them and there-
fore no longer shocked by them (idealism).
There is also a difference in the disposition. A regressive format-
ion which affects simultaneously a number of individuals standing
in social relationship to one another will easily find a social outlet
378 AUGUST STARCKE
(sects, war, sleep). On the other hand, the regressive solitary type
of individual is suppressed at once by society {as far as he does
not know how to use society for his own purpose!). If it breaks
through regardless of this resistance, then this proves a stronger
energy of the regressive or progressive occurrence, a condition
which psycho-analysis traces back to early acquired fixations in
definite stages (dififerent for each syndrome) of development of
the impulses. Psycho-analysis, in considering this quantitative diffe-
rence, interests itself in the analogous phenomena exhibited by
normal people. The mental life of the normal person is a symphony
of single performances of the various stages of development. Some
of the stages, like sleep, are extremely deep regressions, surpassing
the severest psychoses in depth and, strange to say, often absent
in these latter, "-"i? <-m M^t'r-'H'.i^ ••■- ---i-- -(■■•■■ ■•' ;' ■ ■ '
III
METAPHRENIA "^\.^'
Since there exists a state of conflict between mental patients
and society it behoves science to subject society to an investigation
in order to facilitate an impartial study. --:» S/'H'
What is this society that we find as the co-ordinating axis when
we attempt to arrive at the concept of 'mental disease'.? Here the
matter is obviously different from the neuroses. There we found
as object of comparison the picture of the ideal normal human
being composed of the various ideal aspects of reality. An ideal
society has not yet been created, on tlie contrary all are agreed
that much of society is valueless. Many thinkers — I need only
mention Carpenter and Ruskin— were not afraid to compare present-
day civilisation with a disease. Actually at the present time it is
easy to hold this opinion. The civihsation of the white race is a
morbid one.
The gains won by civilisation are of course very important:
■^an improved defence against enemies from other realms of
nature, and a more intensive utilisation of the natural sources of
life, these together leading to a considerable extension of the
duration of life. Many people, however, will not look upon material
advantages as the most important gain, but upon the feelings of
security and superiority which permit the civilised human being
-*-Sft-
'Scfe
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 379
to be himself so proud and independent in comparison with
nature— an attitude which in primitive people was possible only
to kings and magicians. Otiiers, on the contrary, wih perceive the
most important gains in the sacrifice of the individual for the
whole, the feeling of fellowship, and the self-control which civili-
sation demands, or will call special attention to the lofty superiority
of the civihsed religions. I acknowledge all these qualities, but should
like to allude to a few on the darker side.
First of all I may point to the unequal distribution of the
material advantages of civilisation. It is not the possession of this
or that quantity of goods that makes a, person fortunate, but the
fact that there are but few of his wishes that cannot be gratified.
Modern intercourse, in dangling before the e3^es of the poor all
kinds of riches, creates more requirements tlian can be gratified-
the tradesman even thinks it is his duty 'to create requirements'.
p- That is to say, he makes an occupation by making human beings
dissatisfied.
Secondly, as contrasting with the security of modern life I may
point to wars and class warfare, which, it is true, do not occur
incidentally in the course of everyday existence, but which, nevertheless,
••^H.^> . occur with the same regularity as the manic phases of a periodic
sC|^" psychosis, or the attacks of an epileptic. Wars belong to society,
r*'^;'--' as the other manifestations belong to disease.
. /,. Too little consideration is given to the fact that in the ethical
advantages of civilised society the social elements are by no means
j composed exclusively of 'sublimated' erotic impulses. Civilised
' society consists rather of a nucleus working for the whole— a nucleus
which is indeed actually held together by love, and of a great
number of individuals whose interest in society is the interest of
the beast of prey for its spoil. The latter group depends on
t cultural control and exercises this control for its purpose; its
cultural progress makes the ethical advantages .of civilisation
': Illusory. ,u;,., .^ri,!.,.^:.;;,: _..., ,.''U, ' "V!',''T "'"'V
tf. Finally- I believe that the loss even as regards cultural values
which the civilisation of to-day brings with it is not estimated at
( its true extent. It seems to me that logic cannot increase with,
^ but only at the expense of ethics and aesthetics. While among
I primitive peoples every woman can make a pretty ornament or
I vessel herself, in civilised lands the artist is only a freak of nature.
I" In lands where industrial civilisation has progressed farthest there
380 AUGUST STARCKE
are no artists at all. This statement, so simple in itself, signifies in
reality such an enormous loss that this alone should be sufficient
to prevent one being enthusiastically in love with the alleged
advances of civilisation. It seems to me that a lengthening of the
duration of life is of little value if at the same time the content
of life is diminished.
The unequal development of the sexes compels the woman to
sublimate more than she can sustain on the average, because the
man, seduced by covetousness, so splits and wastes his libido in.
social life, or is forced to keep it infantile through care about the
daily bread, that he is no longer sufficiently capable of love.
Civilised education compels the two sexes to divert so much libido
into phantasy and life of thought that the capacity for real gratif-
ication is lost to a great extent, and it punishes at the same time
its all too obedient victims by an increased tendency to psycho-
neuroses. While on the one hand the woman is compelled to turn
a great part of her libido towards the young child on account of
little gratification received from the man, on the other hand
society takes over education from the parents much earlier and
thereby deprives the mother of the love object which she needed
the more. The children seldom remain with their parents to the
end of their education, on account of the strongly developed social
life. The children become more spoiled through their limited
number, have greater craving for affection, and are then torn from
their parents by society at an age when they are allowed to
express the greater craving only in a highly domesticated manner.
The morbid nature of this civilisation also follows from the fact
that a people, or a part of a people, who have succumbed to it
regularly diminish numerically.
The concept 'disease' is only conceivable in connection with
the concept 'health'; therefore it is obligatory for me to indicate
what is a 'healthy' civilisation. I consider it permissible in the
scope of this work to content myself provisionally with the thesis
that a healthy society should be that in which the happiness of
individuals is not pressed down below a certain minimum through
care about the existence of the species; and I leave open the
possibility that an ideally 'healthy' civilisation is probably excluded
altogether through the existence of certain impulses in the white
races. The solution of the problem has to be left to economics,
in connection with which, however, psycho-analysis has to give
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 381
the advice that in the solutions up to the present a morbid path
has been followed which is perceptible in a psycho-neurosis of
individuals, still better in its fatality. The solutions so far have
failed on account of the underestimation of the claims of the un-
conscious and the libido. A compromise is made between the two
demands of culture in the ' white ' civilisation of to-day. The indiv-
idual happiness, as mentioned above, is considerably limited by
the precepts of civilisation.
The existence of the species is only secured by the fact that
civilisation is not held in equal estimation as regards the whole
of society, but is only proved in certain spheres and social classes
while the, increase of population originates from the less civilised
or uncivilised spheres (Dulosis). As soon as a people strives to
raise itself in toto to a certain stage of civilisation it diminishes
numerically. Civilisation seems then to be a disease which is
imposed on a certain portion of society in order to obtain a
certain extra gain whereby all profit. Economically the motive of
existence falls to the ground as soon as the extra gain becomes
too small, as is now the case in the eyes of many people.
This does not interest us psychologically, but it presents a
striking agreement with the psycho-neuroses, the existence of
which often likewise depends on a certain 'secondary gain of ill-
ness ', because a tendency ' sifts from the many momentary psychic
states of various stages those who provide this gain and gives it
a longer duration— as 'neuroses', etc. — if the condition of the
disposition is also fulfilled. We are further interested psychologic-
ally in the investigation of the details of the phenomena of civilisa-
tion which permits insertion in our present comparison of 'neur-
otic' phenomena. We keep in view the distinction between the
social secondary gain of illness in civilisation and the individual
secondary gain of illness in the neurosis, and emphasise that this
is the only distinction, so that civilisation passes over completely
into illness as soon as the gain becomes too individual. Civilisation
considered from the individual point of view belongs to neurotic
phenomena. ,
I think one can go further and attempt a more precise dia-
gnosis of this civilisation-disease by the insight obtained from psycho-
analytical experience. But I must keep strictly to the scope of my
subject.
> Or several, egoistic and libidinal, tendencies.
3g2 AUGUST STARCKE
I concur with Freud's opinion given in 1908. ' Freud states
that besides the necessity of life there are family feelings derived
from erotism which have induced the individual to suppress his
impulse for the advantage of society. In all probability it can be
added that the prohibitions proceeding from the father participated
in this process of suppression, and that these prohibitions more
easily succeeded in diverting the love from the mother, because
the primitive work which was available as a substitute for the
original activity of the libido was capable of receiving great quant-
ities of libido. It is perhaps in this outline superfluous to allude
to the fact that the present industrial work no longer exhibits this
characteristic. The higher organisations of the libido are taken
away from the work in a great measure, and placed at the dis-
posal of religion and the neuroses. The result of this is a damming
of libido, since the libido, as Freud has clearly shown, is more
and more banished from civilised love-life and has to be satisfied
only with phantasy and pleasure.
In consequence of this increasing insufficiency of the work the
paternal prohibition (and command) has to be used more and more
for social purposes, and society is kept intact only through prohibit-
ions, and the more so the longer these prohibitions are utilised.
The correlated excessive fear of death (arising from the situa-
tion, depicted by Freud, of the death of the father) supplies the
motive for the equally extreme development of hygtene, which
keeps the civilised human being in an invisible glass cage, and of
cleanliness which assumes the dimensions of a phobia.
A far-going inhibition of hostile object-erotic factors directed
upon the members of the family becomes necessary in society^
factors which in times of peace are finally discharged in work and
pleasure. Thereby both work and pleasure have the character of
aggressive activity (this character belongs both to primitive and
civilised society).
The anal-erotic factors, expelled alike from the fields of love
and work by hygiene and cleanhness, find a substitute in the
desire to acquire products, in the last resort time and money,
those two symbols of faeces (this characteristic being confined
to civilised societies), --..j^r-- ,„.; 7- •.i.i.u.^uL- c ;•;> - •
» Sigm. Freud: 'Die tultiirelle'Sexiialmbral und did rnbafcrne Nervositat ,
Sexualprohhme, 1908, 4. Also in Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosen-
. lehre, Zweite Folge, 1909, S. 175.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 383
The obsessional neurotic character of civilisation results from
this compulsive striving and these aggressive tendencies.
I shall not give further analogies w^hich exist even on super-
ficial comparison between civilisation and obsessional neuroses,*
but only mention that the return of repressed material is not
lacking.
To those who are not able to pass through the whole of this
development the result seems to furnish relatively gratifying
syntheses. But the pleasure always requires an ever increasing
amount of time, since the libido is now excluded from work and
love is prohibited for reasons of hygiene, it has to find its gratification
in the period of recreation.
Moreover the solution becomes unsatisfactory as far as it is
only attainable for a minority, and even for this minority does
not prove to be a firm basis.
The striving for time and money, by the class' satisfied thereby,
depreciates the work of the rest of the community, while the
altered social relationships are opposed to a development of the
family life which should be able to receive the libido quantities
■which flow back from the work. Hence diminution of work, fatigue,
etc. after a time endangers life just as much as the origmal situation
of pleasure, rest and danger to life.
Freud has warned us against regarding the life of primitive
peoples as unfettered and only filled with pleasure. He has shown
us that it is limited by taboo prohibitions in every important
respect, and almost at each step the infringement of some pro-
hibition is threatened. We also know that savages, if they are
less afraid of the open and conscious risk ofdeaihthan ourselves,
nevertheless for the most part do not possess stabile courage:
they are easily seized with panic, and are dominated by the fear
of the mysterious death brought about by spirits. The institution
of the taboo is not in a position to compensate all this anxiety,
and a certain quantity remains as such.
Among civilised people, whose religion is so much more
1 There is only lacking the consciousness of illness; therefoi-e the civilis-
ed actions compulsively earned out would have to be christened as a
superstitious ceremonial, rather than as an obsessional neurotic one. The
claim that the patient must recognise that he is ill is however quite arbi7
trary and it is best to leave it alone. In the diagnosis ' tuberculosis ' or
' typhus ' no one would think of raising it.
a6
384 AUGUST STARCKE
complicated, a part of the fear of death is elaborated just as in the
case of savages. This part applies to earthly death as such. The
hygiene and cleanliness taboos are erected for its compensation,
and at the samet ime logically based. The fear of death is replaced
by the care about the observance of these taboo orders.
As regards another part the fear of death is removed by rais-
ing death to eternal and real life. ^ The religions which bring this
about elude the practical consequences to be drawn from this by
giving a number of precepts upon the observance of vi^hich eternal
salvation is made dependent. The fear of death as far as it is
transmuted into a religious sense is replaced by fear of eternal
punishment, and this again by care about the observance of the
moral code. This elaboration therefore finally ends in a taboo
similar to the neurotic obsessions. If one has to admit that the
savage is not as free as he appears to be, this is also valid as
regards the civilised human being and moreover in a still higher
degree.
It is usual to allude to the normal person's capacity to sup-
press his narcissism. The normal human being is supposed to be
in the position to sacrifice his ego for the social whole. I should
like to question the general validity of this statement, though I
admit that it may be applicable as regards exceptions or even as
regards a large minority of people. It would seem rather that the
normal human being gives his life for the whole only when
this sacrifice is associated with the setting free of lowly organised
aggressive tendencies and partial impulses. It is well known that
good discipline can be maintained in an army only if there is a
real fight, and that the soldier tends to fire shots in the battle,
though they may not hit the mark, solely to relieve himself. I see
in the capacity of the normal person to tolerate military discipline
merely a relaxation of his higher psychic organisations which are
normally directed towards peaceful activities, and a sense oi dim-
inished effort at finding himself once again in the situation of
the automatically obedient child. From above and not from below
— from the narcissism— originate therefore the sublimated allo-
erotic forces which qualify for discipline. The infantile rewards of
uniforms, distinctions etc., which have always been necessary, show
that narcissism is not really given up in the army, but has merely
become more infantile. At the moment of battle, as Wolozkoi's
' Freud: 'Zeitgemafies tiber Krieg und Tod', Imago, Bd. IV, S. 1.
^
PSYCHO- ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY ' 385
investigations have shown, there is rarely a conscious sacrifice of
life for the whole, the majority are not capable of the simplest
psychical performances, but only of automatic repetitions and
similar attempts at flight, defence and attack, or advance.
The sublimations and reaction-formations of the social human
being follow the mechanisms of the obsessional neuroses (there
is here an agreement of the moral, logical, and aesthetic com-
pulsion with that of the neuroses). They also tend to the return
of repressed material. We see the civilisation of a people or a
race built up in cycles according to the mechanisms of the ob-
sessional neurosis, until it becomes no longer bearable ; then there
comes about a limitation of the useful effect through the return of
the repressed material in disguised form, and a breaking through
*^7 of forbidden things in war and revolution, according to the prin-
ciples of the manic psychoses, while various 'isms' analogous to
the paranoid fields are not lacking.
Our axis of co-ordination is better orientated— according to
the principle of relativity — by these reflections. The civilised
human being suffers from a special form of obsessional neurosis.
The civilisation of the period of industrial production corresponds
' to a regression to the second pregenital organisation of the libido.
IV
REGRESSION — FIXATION (DISPOSITION)
Having thus cleared the ground we can continue our reflections
Civilisation demands regression. All those who have not sufficient
fixation on the second pregenital organisation of the libido will
have difficulty in conducting themselves socially. Family education
has the aim oi making of the child a capable and loving father
or mother. As soon as society takes over education it negatives
this purpose and strives for an infantile one. In a small number
of individuals a small part of the libido is further sublimated,
but to attain this end, the sublimation already achieved by the
remainder is ruthlessly sacrificed. To those who become neurotic
at an early age, because they cannot keep pace with this devel-
opment, must be added those who later on in puberty refuse the
regression demanded by society, or in whom the regression turns
out differently, because the points of fixation of their libido are
S9»
3g6 AUGUST STARCKE
not those which society demands. Society forces upon them in-
fantile gratifications (like the monotonous repetitions involved m
working with machines) i and thereby calls forth the whole in-
fantile libido-position from the past. As soon as suitable points
of fixation appear in development there arises opportunity for the
origin of psychotic phenomena. If no suitable fixations exist then
there occur regressive alterations of character, alterations as serious
and profound as the regressions of the psychoses and just as
detrimental to civilisation, but which are not recognised as such
because they appear en masse. These types of regression— many
of which are typical as regards modern society— belong in a
great measure to the type of the situation-psychoses. They are
remedied by transplantation into an environment where the social
stage of libido-discharge is on a different level. This distinction
between the alterations of character in question and the recognised
psychoses is still further lessened by the fact that a great number
of these latter, a number which is greater the stricter the in-
vestigation, belong to the situation-psychoses. *
Before I pass on to a more detailed comparison I should like
to make a few general remarks on disposition (fixation) in tiie
psychoses. In the following considerations we shall start from the
conclusion at which we have now arrived, i. e., that the usual
classification into psychotic, neurotic and normal phenomena does
■not represent a gradation of the depth of regression of such a
kind that the normal stands at the head, and the other groups
respectively each a stage lower. This division rests exclusively on
the relationship of the groups to what is tolerated socially. In
psychotics the suppression fails, in neurotics there takes place a
process of compromise, while normal people either submit them-
selves to society or else induce society to submit to them.
For the comparison of the regressions the corresponding
phenomena of normal mental life will be distributed between the
two other groups. I presuppose therefore an ideal, strict, social,
ethical norm, as it is found only as a demand bat not a reality,
and I call psychotic the psychical expressions which have more
the character of a flat refusal of this ethical suppression of im-^
» There also results from this an 'ego-contiict' in the traumatic neuroses,
of peace-time.
• i. e. psychoses where the external situation has played a prominent part
in the onset (Bleuler).
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 387
pulse, and neurotic those in which the character of a comprom-
ise is evident. Used only in -this sense our intuitive inclination - 1
is right in ascribing to the psychoses more intense regression.
This intensity is determined by a sum of products, the factors of '
which are on the one hand the depth of regression, and, on the ;
other, the quantity of libido regressing to it. .
It is customary to consider a fixation in narcissism as essential ''
for the psychoses, and to contrast this group with the transference ^
neuroses as narcissistic neuroses. I recognise the heuristic value '
of this grouping, but should like to emphasise that narcissistic fix- i
ation ?lso belongs to the disposition of normal 'civilised people'. )
The peculiarity of psychotics consists in an insufficient relation-
ship between socially transferable and narcissistically fixed libido. ;
The movement of regression can very well take place in such i
a manner that auto-erotic or socially useless early object-erotic
fixations take up the regressed social transference quantities. Thereby
the narcissistic intensity and quantity can remain the same, but J
the relationship between social transference and narcissism can j
change in favour of the latter. 1
The disposition to the psychoses is rather to be sought in the ■
fact that the whole sum of all more primitive fixations (palaeo-
psychic fixations) exceeds a certain value. Psychoses are also de-
noted by a high degi-ee of fixation. The stage at which the fix-
ations lie is not characteristic for the psychotic (antisocial-neurotic)
individual as a whole, but for each syndrome itself If, nevertheless,
it is wished to retain the name 'narcissistic neuroses' instead of,
for example, 'palaeo-psychoses' for the antisocial-neurotic syndrome
group ^ then at least it should be emphasised that the narcissism j
of the psychoses, to which this name alludes, is an infantile one. i
The narcissism has also its further development like object-erotism. '~\
The development of the libido, as Freud has described it, from !
auto-erotism to narcissism and then to allo-erotism — homosexual- \
ity and heterosexuality — can only take place through the meet-
ing together of the libido with an impulse which splits it up, joins s
itself with the fragments, and changes its direction. This impulse,
> It would be better to keep separate the lay concept of 'mental disease'
as an antisocial-psychotic group of individuals from the psychological concepts
palaeo-psychoses, neo-psychoses, etc, which are here created and under which '
are to be understood definite types of intensity of regression, independent
of the question how they are estimated by society. .
388 AUGUST STARCKE
the ego impulse, we only recognise in that quality as antagonist
of the Ubido. Yet this connection is not sufficient to explain the
numerous forms of the libido. An association of only two elements
offers only limited possibilities. We have to assume a third factor,
one which is most probably constituted as follows : the portions
of the libido which have received the stamp of the different eroto-
genic zones also retain a certain independence within their later
formed syntheses like the radical in the molecule.
The narcissistic synthesis may at first consist of an association
(which may vary very greatly both qualitatively and quantitatively)
of different auto-erotic components, and these components as well
as the syntheses formed from them can, moreover, stand on higher
or lower stages of inhibition, i. e., be allied with more or less ego
impulses. If then one takes into consideration that the libido as
far as it is stamped has still a direction, which we express with
positive or negative signs, and that we have to distinguish among
the ego impulses at least formative, secretory, sensory (?), and motor
ones, then possibilities of combination are given which can com-
prise life as far as it lies within our scope.
The development of narcissism is still very imperfectly known.
Probably the processes of splitting and condensation are both
effective. Condensation in the sense that auto-erotic components
of the impulse are soldered with the kernel: splitting in the
sense that quantities of the narcissistic impulse-condensation are
split off and enter into new syntheses with object-erotic and ego-
impulse quantities governed by the pleasure- and reality-principles.
The split-off quantities constantly approach more to egoism through
the continual union of new ego-impulse quantities. It is not known
to which of the stages the narcissism belongs, the fixation of which
conditions the disposition to antisocial-psychotic phenomena; it
is to be supposed that several narcissistic points of fixation have
to be distinguished and that these differences contribute to the
choice of psychosis.
The manner in which a fixation takes place we can provision-
ally represent as twofold. The social human being must be able
to pass quickly from one stage of expression to another. If we,
in agreement with a priori ideas, ideas that are perhaps childish
but which are nevertheless unavoidable, imagine the psychical pro-
cesses as the machinery driven by water-power in a high-storeyed
building, a sky-scraper, then it is necessary for social adaptation
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 389
that there should be an arrangement which allows large quanti-
ties of that water to pass as quickly as possible from one storey
• to another. If the capacity of the water-pipe is too small for
' • requirements that exceed the average, then we have a case of
fixation. But if the lower tap or one of the lower taps is very
spacious and permits a large amount to be drawn off then
^ there is also fixation. Also if the pressure is small it is possible
that without fixation only the lower storeys will be supplied with
water.
A similar organic libido-insufficiency is to be imagined in the
psychoses leading to pseudo-dementia.
We will not continue this crude allegory, but merely retain the
notice of two possible foundations for the fixation, and meanwhile
wait for anatomy to reveal the existence of such channels as we
i have been considering, channels the development of which we may
then suppose to stand in correlation with, the cultural ability of
the individual.
ffe
f''
V
CLINICAL FACTS
We will now pass on to the more special comparison of the
neuroses with the psychoses. We leam the following:
1. Psychotic symptom-complexes appear in such a motley mix-
ture in the same patient at the same time or following one an-
other that almost no case wholly agrees with the artificial disease
j; ' ' entities of the text books (except in the case of Bleuler's schizo-
f phrenia where the nosological concept approximately agrees with
that of the functional psychoses). The clinicians are resigned to
^> this fact through the discovery of 'degenerative insanity', which
^ rather hides than cancels this difficulty. As examples I mention
i the manic and melancholic states in schizophrenia, manic and mel-
f^* ^ - . ancholic states in typical hysterical dream-states, typical hysterical
i: twilight states in schizophrenia, isolated epileptic attacks and fugues
i^i in schizophrenia, combination of typical epileptic dementia with
strokes and at the same time classical physical delusions of per-
secution. In one case I had a psychotic condition commence as a
typical hysterical twilight state with delirium, and then saw it
pass away just like classical mania, which was followed by slight
*••■
390 AUGUST STARCivE
melancholia. I have seen a room full of patients who as whole a
had been diagnosed as hysteria by professors of the university
and as a whole suffered from profound schizophrenic dementia.
I maintain therefore an acute functional psychotic state does not ,
permit the prophecy of the further course merely on the basis of
the momentary picture, a prophecy which has little more than a
relative value of probability.
2. Neurotic symptoms of the most various kinds often form
the prelude and interlude of the psychoses.
The combination of obsessional phenomena with manic-depressive
psychoses has been minutely studied by Heilbronner and Bonhoefer.
I add— and Bleuler also has alluded to it — that obsessional neurotic
phenomena often occur also in psychoses of the schizophrenic
groups, and that many stereotyped and bizarre movements in
schizophrenics and paranoiacs are really indistinguishable from
compulsive actions. Insight into the illness is lacking in these latter
conditions; in the obsessional neuroses it is found, as far as I can
judge, that only a part of the existing obsessional phenomena are
conscious to the patients as such.
Much less frequently have I observed the symptoms of con-
version hysteria in- mental patients, and for the most part in manics
and epilepdcs. On the other hand, anxiety and hypochondria are
symptoms of both the neuroses and psychoses, and it depends
only on the camouflage whether anxiety neurosis or anxiety psychosis
is diagnosed. '
3. Psychotic symptoms of a slighter degree are found in many
neurotics. 1 Frames of mind of a hypomanic or melancholic character
are not lacking in hysteria, just as fleeting ideas ol sin inhibitions
and disturbances of interest actually lie within the normal fluctuation
of affect The narcissistic identiiication with the object as sub-
stitute for the love charge and the conditions of unconscious loss
and ambivalency in melancholia as distinct from normal griet
(Freud) are to be conceived quantitatively. Among the few less
severe obsessional neurotics whom I happen to have seen within
and without the institution several attempts at suicide had occurred.
In one patient the miscarried suicide was really a compulsive action
' According to the following authors genuine delusional ideas are devel-
oped in the course of a functional neurosis: KrafFt-Ebing, Meynert, Wille,
Emminghaus, Kraepelin, Tuczek, Morsclli, Friedmann, Mickle, Schtlle, Stij^las,
Pitres, R^gis. See also the delirium in the obsessional neurosis of Freud.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 391
which he perpetrated upon himself innumerable times; that it mis-
carried each time, that he survived poisoning, that by timely help
he escaped bleeding to death from severed radial arteries, that
a swallowed piece of fork could be removed, that the repeated
deep cut in the throat did not kill him, for all this he was
responsible only in so far as he did not offer too great a resistance
to the attempts at saving him. The same patient had also distinct
delusions of reference. Another obsessional patient at one and
the same time had hypochondria, heard the devil at night, and
believed in the reality of some dream phenomena; she com-
mitted suicide.
4. Signs of illness in other directions, as it were test-psychoses
or neuroses, are usually observed before the outbreak of a neurosis
or a psychosis proper. Particularly at the commencement of a
psychosis there often exist together depressive symptoms and
delusions of reference and persecution. It seems that the paths to
melancholia and paranoia run along together pretty far. Similarly,
transitory delusions of reference are often found at the conclusion
of a manic phase.
The neuroses are not simple products of regression, but attempts
at reconstruction, just like many psychotic symptoms. The deeper
regression precedes them. The attempts at reconstruction at first
go in many directions. One or more of them iinally attract more
quantities to themselves and end in the forbidden deed or
gesture. ,
The conception of the nosological uniformity of all functional
psychoses and neuroses forced upon us by these four series of
facts does not prejudice the necessity of studying the single syn-
dromes and their typical combinations; it stands, however, for
quantitative instead of qualitative distinctions. This has already
been maintained by Clouston and Macpherson. * It is supported by
Freud's discovery ot the relative darnming of libido as common
cause, of the ambivalency and infantile fixation as common
disposition.
» John Macpherson: 'The Identity of the Psychoses and the Neuroses',
Journ. Mental Science, 66, 273, April 1920. Regarding the question whether it
,is possible to establish psychical types of illness I refer to Hoche: 'Die Be-
deutung der Symptomenkomplexe in der Psychiatric'. Zeitschr. f, d, get.
Neur. u. Psych. 12, 540 (contra) and Aschaffenburg: 'Die Einteilung der
Psychosen'. Handb. d. Psa. 1915, 19 ff. (pro).
hSL-
392 AUGUST STARCKE
VI
FREUD'S CLASSIFICATION OF THE CLINICAL ENTITIES
I shall probably not go wrong if I assume that the concepts
of the 'psychoses' and the 'neuroses', according to the facts just
discussed, seem to the reader more confused and hazy than before.
Only if anyone attributes this unsatisfactory result to my method
of representation should I object. With these concepts nothing
can be done scientifically, and I have only endeavoured to malce
conscious the indefiniteness of their outlines.
Freud i has given the solution to this impasse. He distinguishes
in the clinical picture:
1. The residual phenomena (of the preserved normality or
neurosis).
2. Those of the process of illness (regression, the release of the
libido from the objects and its location in narcissism or still
deeper).
3. Attempts at restitution.
The last are for the most part those which lead to the conflict
with the environment and impress us as illness.
Thus finally all psychoses and neuroses are mixtures, just as,
according to Freud's striking analogy, the rock consists of several
minerals. In many cases one of the syndromes assumes sole power
or at any rate becomes most conspicuous from outside. The mixtures
consist of:
1. The actual neuroses: anxiety neurosis, neurasthenia and
hypochondria — symptoms which are the direct accompaniment
either of sexual stimulation or exhaustion, or of the extraordinary
charge of libido of other erotogenic zones.
2. The transference neuroses: conversion hysteria, anxiety
hysteria and obsessional neuroses — further elaborations of anxiety
through conversion, protection formation (phobia) and reaction
formation.
3. Other less known transference neuroses, which as restitution
attempts in paraphrenia {- schizophrenia + paranoia) and other
psychoses lead the libido again to objects and receive their particular
«Sigm. Freud. 'Zur EinfUhrung des Narzifimus", Jahrhuch der Psychoanalyse
Bd. VI, S. 1, 1914. Vorlesungen zur Einftthrang in die Psychoanalyse, III. 1,917.
« Metapsychologische Erganzung zur Traumlehre ', Intern. Zeitschr. f. P'O'
1916/17, Bd. IV, S. 277; 'Trauer uad Melancholic', Ibid. S. 288.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 393
character through the great quantity of negative libido with which
they have to deal, as well as their permanent tendency to return
to narcissism.
4. The narcissistic neuroses — results of the regression of object-
erotic quantities to narcissism — as they are found in rather pure
form in paraphrenia, but also as one of the chief constituent parts
in the other psychoses.
5. The hallucinatory wish-psychoses — constituent parts of amentia
dreams, and paraphrenia.
In the transference neuroses the libido, freed from a libido-
position which cannot be maintained, is first turned into phantasy
(introversion) which continues psychically the existence of the object
that has in reality disappeared and finds for it a substitute. The
miscarriage of this process gives rise to anxiety.
Such a transference neurosis is also the commencement of
grief and melancholia (or the mania covering it as reaction-
formation). In grief the transference succeeds along that path, in
melancholia it miscarries and then follows a narcissistic neurosis.
In paraphrenia the libido freed through refusal is utilised nar-
cissistically and here lil^ewise worked off psychically (delusions of
greatness), or in the case of failure is used for the overcharge of
the auto- erotic zones, which signifies a further regression. From
this deeper situation (hypochondria) the attempt at restitution is
undertaken anew, which through a transference neurosis, this time
a transference of quantities at an extremely infantile level ot
organised quantities, fastens the libido again to objects (negative
transference-mania as such, which is according to the nature of
the phobia either surrounded with securities like the inhibitions of
motility — negativism ; or else projected — delusions of persecution).
I propose to make use of a similar classification of normal
persons, and first, therefore, to place at the side of the para-
phrenics the individuals dominated by time and money compulsion,
denoting them as metaphrenics. IMetaphrenia then consists of: (1)
The remainder of the earlier phases (orthophrenia), (2) An ob-
sessional neurosis (products compulsion), (3) A narcissistic neurosis
(idealism), (4) An anxiety hysteria (over-developed hygiene, etc.),
(5) Transference neuroses of the second group (domestication, for-
mation of the State, etc.). These methods of using the libido have
together begun to nibble at the narcissistic neuroses, obsessional
neuroses, and attempts at restitution of the historically and racially
394 AUGUST STARCKE
primitive orthophrenia (the mental position ot the primitive peasant
folk) which together have built up religion, art and the love-life.
For the further differentiation of the hallucinatory wish-psych-
oses as well as of dreams as contrasted with schizophrenia
Freud has developed his theory of topographical regression, which
cannot be referred to briefly because the problems in this field
are still not settled. I therefore refer to his works on this subject
(1. c.)i and only quote here Freud's conclusions in so far as
they have reference to my subject. In schizophrenia there is an
overcharge of the (pre-conscious) word-ideas and these become
elaborated, in the dream it is the (unconscious) matter-ideas
which become elaborated; intercourse between the preconscious
and unconscious remains free.
'In dreams the withdrawal of the charge (libido, interest)
concerns all systems equally, in the transference neuroses the pre-
conscious charge is drawn back, in schizophrenia that of the un-
conscious, in amentia that of the consciousness.'
It seems to me that the theory of topographical regression is
not the sole possibility of explanation (See Section VIII). Against
my doubt in this respect only the following facts make me
hesitate, that during the years in which I followed in relative
solitude the development of the Freudian teachings I several
times had such doubts which turned out to be resistances when
I again revised the material, especially my own.
Psycho-analysis, however, which has so often to reject anti-
thesis, can proceed differently from ordinary science even in deal-
ing with working hypotheses. It seems to me permissible to use
different means for investigating problems which are to explain
topographical regression, even if they should clash here and there
with the topographical theory.
I propose further to extend the economic point ot view, by
dividing the concept of the quantity ^ of libido into a concept of
quantity (Helm,3 [Mass, Entropy etc.]), and a concept of intensity
(the square of velocity, temperature, potentiality, etc.). "When for
instance Ferenczi* says that hysteria is to be conceived as a hetero-
' The facts already in 'Die Traumdeutung ', 1900, S. 312 ff.
* Freud, 1894.
' = capacity (Ostwald), content (Meyerhoffer).
* S. Ferenczi, 'Hysterische Materialisationsphanomene', Hysteric und
Pathoneurosen, Intern. Psa. Bibl. Nr. 2, 1919, S. 30.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 395
geneous genital function and that in hysterical conversion the
earlier auto-erotisms are charged with genital sexuality, i. e. with
an 'excitation' which retains in its nature and intensity the genital
character after transposition, then the principle mentioned is
already indicated.
r
• • VII
THE LIBIDO REGRESSION
If we consider the relations between neuroses and psychoses
exclusively with reference to the hbido, then a system is sketclied
out in the chaos of these disorders. The acquired disturbance of
correlation results through the regression of the libido to the
stages of fixation determined by the individual occurrences of
youth. The regressively withdrawing streams of libido invest all
the paths that have been relinquished. When this movement is
at all marked the regression becomes strikingly like a twilight state.
The rest of the symptoms belong in a great part to the process
of reconstruction. The chief mass of the reconstruction in the neur-
oses and psychoneuroses reaches the infantile object choice and
the criminal tendencies, and allows so much libido to be fixed
normally that its expression can be a compromise. ^ In delusions' of
persecution and of grandeur disturbing quantities persist in the
homosexual, * narcissistic ^ and sadistic-anal-erotic * stages; in manic
depressive they persist in the first and second pregenital * and
narcissistic ^ stages ; in the obsessional neurosis ^ (including tlie meta-
phrenic culture «) in the narcissistic and second pregenital stage-
The sadistic-anal-erotic point of fixation is common to both the
manic-depressive psychoses and paranoia. The regression of a negat-
ive quantity goes back in both to auto-erotism (hypochondriacal
symptoms in both). The anal-erotic quantity used for the re-
construction originates in paranoia from the regression of sublimat-
ed homosexual libido, and as far as it is positive it is used for
' Freud.
» Freud und Abraham.
' Fi rt nczi.
* Abraham.
5 Freud and Jones.
" The Author. '•
UAt
396 AUGUST STARCKE
the reconstruction of the ego (as delusions of grandeur), as far
as it is negative for the reconstruction of the external world (as
delusions of persecution). '
As regards the libido-economy of melancholia it is typical that
the negative anal-erotism is not elaborated object-erotically, but
remains at a lower stage and is expressed as negative narcissism
(delusions of inferiority, etc.). Its origin is probably less typical.
Moreover, it possesses a point of fixation in the first pregenital
(oral) stage which is lacking in the paranoiac syndrome. Alcoholism
has its fixations in the first pregenital and homosexual stages.
Schizophrenia finally is the collective name for all more severe
cases of the psychoses in which the reconstruction of a part of
the libido-positions makes a halt in auto-erotism or still deeper.
A certain degree of regression is answerable for the economic
foundation of the difference between the neurotic feelings of being
slighted or threatened, for ideas of inferiority, persecution, etc.,
and the equivalent delusions (where the feeling conquers the test
of reality). It is not known whether this degree is intensity, quant-
ity, or depth of the regression.
It is a fundamental remark ofKronfeld's that the causal factors
as regards form, content and time of appearance of the psychosis
must be different. The stage of regression (or reconstruction as
the case may be) is the determining influence as regards form.
The content is determined by the old imagines and the new con-
densations. We see, for example, the same complex of the un-
gratified desire for a child expressed in hysterics as simulated
pregnancy, vomiting, meteorism, in paranoiacs as delusional ideas
of being pregnant or of having an elephant in the body, in the
normal woman in actions which lead to the ^ratification of the
desire or in social substitute actions.
There is therefore no difference in principle in the normal,
neurotic and psychotic. I previously had the impression that hate
contributed still more to the content in the psychoses, Since I
have paid more attention to hate in normal people and neurotics
I am inclined to think that it is only the camouflage of tlie hate
that is defective and its execution infantile in the psychoses.
Hate is developed secondarily in psychotics by society rejecting
the actions of transference of the hbido, now become infantile.
The everyday observations of attendants of the insane furnish proof
of this.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 397 '
In the above the agreements with reference to the content of
the symptom have been especially emphasised.
The diiiferences in reference to the content are clearer between •■
the single syndromes than between the groups of neurotics and 1
psychotics. A certain difierence in the relation between the QEdi- ;
pus and the castration complex is perhaps open to discussion.
Psycho-analysis teaches that the object-libido finds the parents as '
the first objects. Simultaneously with the condensation of the auto-
erotic quantities about the nucleus of the ego there takes place i
a condensation of object-erotism which forms the imago of the i
father or mother, to which increasingly powerful quantities from ■
the auto-erotism then adhere. The CEdipus complex thus origin- 1
ated is the kernel not only of the neuroses, but also of the psychic ;;!
life in general. It does not, however, always comprise the totality j
of the object-erotism, since besides the condensation work which ^
has produced and nourished it, dividing forces are also in operat- '!
ion which take away from it its components or parts of its quant-
ity which bear its stamp (intensity?), and which tend to bring \
them into another combination. This splitting of the imago is sup- 1
p orted by education ; only the artist knows how to avoid it. i
In addition there are perhaps from the beginning erotic imp-
ulses which will not mix with the CEdipus condensation, it may
be on account of their negative properties, or other peculiarities.
They, on the other hand, participate with the narcissistic compon-
ents in an antagonistically directed and much less studied con-
densation, the castration complex, which comprises the anal def-
iance, urethral ambition, and the oral feeling of disappointment,
but only becomes important as soon as the genital development
of the CEdipus complex is inhibited. Then it joins more or less
t| with its negative part and takes over from it the primacy of the
genital zone. The procreating organ is reduced to the instrument
of murder or castration, the object libido to narcissism. I arrived
at the above idea from the fact that wherever the genital '
development ot the CEdipus complex is inhibited in a strong de-
gree through organic defector through interference of the environ-
ment (society), the castration complex is expressed in an increased
degree.
Civilised people strive after destruction of the two conden-
sations. Among primitive people the CEdipus complex seems less 1
split; their culture in the first instance reacts to it according to
mm
398 AUGUST STARCKE
the nature of a phobia. Among the white races the castration
complex comes to greater development, their culture is in a great
part sublimation of this complex, and reacts to the CEdipus com-
plex after the nature of the obsessional neurosis.
' Now it seems to me i that while the CEdipus complex strives
to assert itself in neuroses and psychoses, and forms the content
of the symptom— for in this sense the CEdipus complex is
particularly the nucleus of the neuroses— the castration complex
plays a greater part in the obsessional neurosis, the white civilisa-
tion, and in most institutional patients.
The typical process is then as follows: the reconstruction
is the attempt at restoration in the form of an incestuous striving.
This is refused in consequence of its infantile character and then
the content goes back to the castration complex.
There is still a fact to be brought into the consideration
of the regression — a fact which decides the result of the
complicated relations between the patient's own impulses and
those of society. Each psychic illness has a conflict as its con-
dition. Roughly speaking, the neu)i(j^tic has a conflict in himself,
the psychotic with society. Considered more strictly, conflict is a
condidon not merely of illness, but of every other psychic process.
As regards the conflict the phenomena of orthophrenia and meta-
phrenia correspond pardy to the neurosis and partly to the psych-
osis. The amount of narcissism is highly but not absolutely cor-
related with the conflicts with society.
The little child at the beginning has its conflict only with
its environment (apart from the antagonism between libido and
ego-impulse). The possibility of an internal conflict only becomes
conceivable when the child has accepted the ideals of the envir-
onment. Here I leave this train of thought, which is not com-
/ pleted, and note that the manner in which the psychotic person
manifests his conflict goes back again to the form of conflict of
the little child.
VIII ' .
THE EGO-IMPULSE REGRESSION
The psychotic carries out in reality what the normal person
and the neurotic carry out in phantasy. Thoughts which normal
' This assertion, like several apodictic statements in this article, is in-
tended as a point for discussion and not as a final formula.
4
1
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 399 J
' '■ ' ' i
people and neurotics repress become as conscious as reality to the :^
psychotic. These facts compel our consideration of the ego im-
pulses. We will attempt a rough sketch of their development.
I present this scheme under the pressure of necessity, and am
well aware that it is in the highest degree tentative. It is meant
to show that the degree of regression or development of the ego
impulses in every symptom keeps pace in general with the degree
of development of the libido.
Hints of this are found here and there throughout Freud's
works.
We possess Ferenczi's extremely important and independent
work on the stages of development of the sense of reality.
The analyses of the development both of motility and of con-
sciousness have proceeded from Freud's remark that development
advances from repetition to memory.
Before these stages of repetition and before the development
of the psyche to the complicated systems of inhibition and adjust-
ment, as we now see it, the condition was probably that living
beings stored energy which flowed into motility on the occasion
of a stimulus coming from "without or after the passing over of
any threshold. (The formative and secretory stages of inhibition
of the libido and the sensory discharges are not considered here).
The conscious psychic content directly after the discharge was
euphoria (' feeling of omnipotence ' according to Freud and Ferenczi),
The first further psychic content was anxiety, a state of conscious-
ness that resulted from the heaping up of stimuli: during the dis-
charge itself the transition from anxiety to euphoria became con-
scious as pleasure. Therewith the categories of ego impulse
(storing impulse) and libido (pleasure impulse) are given. ^
In the further development we have to imagine in each new
stage a repetition of these processes: the ego impulse places the
threshold of discharge higher,^ thereby anxiety becomes free as
conscious sensation of the investment of old paths by the stage
of anxiety. ^ At the same time the higher tension of the impulses
* The ego impulse corresponds to a selection by the hostile external
world; whoever or whatever cannot postpone discharges, evaporates, is dis-
persed, suffers defeat. In many organisms (bacteria, etc.) another principle
dominates, that of rapid procreation. In us it is the motor, in bacteria the
formative inhibitions (ego impulse components) which have more developed.
= I understand here unconscious processes which accompany the damming
up of libido, and give off their surplus as conscious feelings of anxiety.
. 27
_
y
400 AUGUST STARCKE
makes for itself the new psychic paths of outlet that characterise
the new stage. The mind is developed as a prepared field for the
anxiety.
We have to imagine the first discharges as tonic in character.
The visceral tensions and secretions, as well as the motility of the
genital fore-pleasure, are in the higher animals fixed at this stage.
The sympathetic nervous system is their organ correlate.
After these tonic stages the first advance is tonus with inter-
ruption which goes hand in hand with the development of an
axial nervous system. The two kinds of innervation of every
muscle correspond to these two groups of stages.
The first stage of the second group is clearly marked as an
epileptic stage. The interruption succeeds sometimes and then
fails. The reactions of flight and defence of lower animals go
back to this stage in the case of violent terror. In order to be
able to see them in their completeness one must make use of
stimuli to which the animals are not yet or no longer accustomed.
If, for example, an ant from the Amazon is bitten by a myrmica
it has a clonic convulsive attack which represents the parody of a
flight; a very strong smell stimulus has the same effect. If the big
broscus which lives underground is fetched from its hole it be-
comes cataleptic with its jaws open and peculiarly stretched legs.
In this condition it absolutely cannot use its dangerous jaws, etc.
The fact that in the functional separation of certain parts of
the brain i the human being also reacts to stimuli with an epilep-
tic convulsive attack leads us to suppose that this epileptic stage
occurs in his development The genital motility of the end-pleas-
ure, male as well as female, is fixed permanently in this stage.
The discharges of the epileptic stage which have remained in
the adult— like the genital and excremental discharges, laughing,
sneezing, coughing and yawning — are characterised by the ac-
companying deep feeling of gratification, their inhibition by the
great quantity of anxiety which it frees.
The stage following is that of rhythmical repetition. *
' The epileptic attack is the complete auto-erotic orgasm; the catatonic
attack belongs to a higher stage.
• As soon as the excitation flows off, a rhythiji occurs. This rhythm has
a very great frequency on the tonic stage. The further development of the
motility consists of a decrease of this frequency. This fact is of decisive
importance for the development of the feeling of time.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 401
The most striking residues in human beings are movements of
the heart and respiration, the sucking of the new-born infant,
blinking, coitus, the dance and other religious and artistic actions
and games (swinging). Many psychotic phenomena (stereotyped
movements, cries, etc.) are regressions to this stage.
Hereabout sets in the separation between the impulses of
flight, defence and attack, and soon in connection with these the
separation between male and female. All these impulses belong
to the libido, with this condition, that they have assumed ecro
impulse-quantities according to their degree of inhibition. This
stage corresponds in consciousness to the feeling of desire.
The stage following, then, is that of reactive repetition.
The motility consists of automatic and stereotyped mechanisms
of attack, defence and flight, which result from stimuli (like the
flight of butterflies, and the pursuit of prey by dragon-flies etc.).
We find regression to this stage in the fugues of epileptic and
other psychoses, and in twilight states, etc.
Here is the suitable place for the insertion of the test of real-
ity and its influence on the censorship, that is to say, the separat-
ion of the system of the pre-conscious. ^
The admixture of ego impulse-quantities with the libido
has gone so far in some motility-(impulse-)spheres that in these
spheres the libido is subjected to the ego impulses (nourishment,
etc.). The gratification of the libido (hunt after prey, etc.) then
secondarily serves the ego impulse. After the discharge of these
libido subsidiaries the ego impulse can compel a longer inter-
ruption.
These latter branches of the libido are those which develop
themselves to further inhibition. The gratification through motility
is easier for them, but is extended to a longer period than that
of the genital branches.
As soon as the desire is perceived too strongly, so that con-
sciousness has no room for it and the remainder of the excitation
regresses to the anxiety stage, it is to be supposed that the cen-
sorship sets in. In the first instance this concerns the sexual desire
(because its motihty stands so low).
The censorship is to some degree dependent on the test of
reality. If tliere results from the test of reality the non-existence
of the desired or feared thing, then the demand arises to inhibit
the rhythmical repetition, because it would signify impulse waste
21*
4Q2 AUGUST STARCKE
and purposeless reaction. It raises itself to reactive repetition
through the inhibition.
With the inhibition there is a disappearance of the conscious
symptom accompanying the rhythmical repetition (the desire), ^ but
at the same time a damming of impulse. A part of the dammed-
up impulses invest old paths, amongst them the anxiety stage.
Another part invests the future paths with memory ^ (Ecphoria
with inhibited motility). The destruction of the present animates
the past and creates the future.
Thus a mechanism can be imagined through which anxiety
arises from repressed desire. The censorship is a function of the
inhibition of movement. So far everything is in order. In fact m-
hibition of movement (suppression) and censorship (repression) run
fairly parallel. Everything that does not fit in with the momentary
direction of action is repressed. Truth is orientated pragmatically.
Psycho-analysis has made us familiar with the idea that the
censorship is older than the test of reality, that it was subordin-
ated previously only to narcissistic purposes and had to exclude
from consciousness everything that would be disturbing to the
feeling of omnipotence. Its new function has not replaced the older
one, but covered it over. The function regresses under the con-
ditions of the neuroses, makes itself free of the test of reality, and
serves again its old magic purpose. In science, reUgion, and super-
stition and in delusions one resorts to tliis regression and is con-
soled for manifold disadvantages by narcissistic satisfaction. This
primary gain seems to be authoritative for delusions; as to science
one dips into it with the intention of obtaining secondary gain
and, after this purpose is obtained, of submitting to the test of
reality the thoughts gained along magic paths. In all cases the m-
tended or unintended regression of the censorship does not occur
without producing a corresponding regression of the remainmg
motility, which then impresses its stamp on scientific or religious
ceremonial.
The development of the alterations which the external world
produces in the relation of the individual to his enviroment takes
' This follows from the laws of ecphoria. Naturally I understand under
the concept of desire also its negative components.
» The development of the unconscious and pre-conscious proceeding at
the same time is not considered, not because it is less important— the
opposite is the case — but because I do not know it.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 403
the form of a transition from repression to suppression. This
formula coincides with the Freudian formula already quoted: de-
velopment from repetition to memory. This last formula refers
to discharges that are permitted, while the first refers to such as
are suppressed.
The development of the relationship to the ego likewise takes
this path. It concerns conscience. As the test of reality has to
investigate the external world as regards difference or agreement
with the wished-for (the imago), so conscience has to examine
the ego and its products as to difference or agreement with the
ideal. It stands to narcissism in the same relationship as the test
of reality to object erotism, but is far less developed.
Only when the individual takes over the ideals of his educa-
tor, that is to say, connects a part of his object libido — which
he takes from the imago of the educator — with a narcissistic
quantity and wishes to identify the imago of this association (the
ideal) with the ego, does conscience begin to function as a new
part of the test of reality formed for the investigation of the inner
life. The censorship stands in relation to it as it did before to
the remaining part; in the beginning it is orientated so that every
thing that should hinder the identification is repressed. Often it
detaches itself again from the rest of the reality test, i.e. re-
gresses. ^
The result of conscience was the non-fulfilment of the ideal,
so that the return of the narcissistic quantity stationed in the ideal
would be excluded. This exclusion would be the dynamic function
of the conscience or of an inhibiting factor which becomes stimu-
lated through the conscience.
The idealist strives further in a two-fold manner: 1. Through
fulfilment of the ideal — suppression. This is idealism as one
would like to imagine it. 2. Through repression. The result o-
conscience is either permanently repressed or only long enough
for the identification, the re-establishment of the original narcissism,
to succeed; then it is projected. This second — magic — process^
which really is older than the first, is seldom missing, and gives
to idealism, when it is strongly developed, its character of a genuine
narcissistic neurosis.
The whole complex is not represented in the repression, but
* In analytic treatment this developmental process with its regressions
of the censorship in each new resistance is to be pursued in nuce.
404 AUGUST STARCKE
only a part (one of its symbols). On this is based the Freudian
method of rediscovering the thing repressed. According to Freud
thinking is an experimental action with displacement of small
quantities. I will add that this experimental action takes place
simultaneously according to the different stages of the development
of the motility. Each path is charged according to its capacity.
We could imagine the repression as an inhibition of this experim-
ental action at the highest stages of the development of motility.^
There remains then the experimental displacement in the paths of
other stages, pre-conscious so long as the stages of the actions
remain charged, unconscious when it only concerns charges of the
lower stages. The imago of the highest stage, thus robbed of its
tendencies, remains conscious as memory. Memory therefore origin-
ates tlirough repression of something else. The conscious content
is always the common third in the simultaneous ecphoria of many
simultaneous stimulus-complexes, each with its tendency. If, now,
one of these tendencies is suppressed, because it contradicts another
dominating tendency, then the common third of the stage in which
the inhibition takes place is displaced. A part of the ideas is with-
drawn into the unconscious (that is to say, there remain only the
charges of the lower stages, which however are charged the more
strongly), others stand out in their place. These latter are those
which furnish the substitute memory, ^ which emerges in the
supposed moments of repression.
The next stages — those of postponed repetition — comprise by
far the greater part of life after the period of suckling, although
m adults many actions are fixed in lower stages.
During the pause in discharge the excitation finds the paths
of the memory stage as mode of outlet (and the lower stages).
Quite at the end of these series two more stages can be clearly
distinguished. They are the stage of lies and dissimulation, and
the idealistic stage, both of which lie within the social development,
and both of which bear characters already regressive. Several
pathological reconstructions are variants of them. They are only
to be understood if one consciously takes into consideration the
libidinous compensations in the system.
' I am unable to estimate whether this attempt at explanation makes a
topographical idea of the repression superfluous; so far it does not seem to
me to contradict it.
* Or 'feeling'.
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 405
In delusions much of the unconscious can become conscious,
because the narcissistic compensation is secured through the
mechanism of projection; in sleep the censorship can relax or
become otherwise orientated, because the motility is otherwise
orientated. i
In each inhibition of the reaction of a higher stage the dammed-
up libido finds the next lower stages for discharge, and in addition
makes new paths. In part these are limited to thoughts (phantasy).
The content of the phantasy can be nothing else than the investment
of the imago the realisation of which was inhibited; that is to say,
the wish-fulfilment. The influence of the censorship on these \
phantasies is manifestly weaker than that of the inhibition on the • \
remaining motility.i If they are strongly charged then they break i
through the censorship and become conscious on the memory .
stage — accompanied by simultaneous strong repression on a lower ' 1
stage (desire, anxiety, etc.). This possibility, therefore, originates
only in strong erotisation of thinking. In all those symptoms which '
resemble delusions and also in the analogous phenomena of healthy
persons, we have to assume an over-strong pleasure in thinking
which corresponds to a libido over-charge of the brain.* 1
Between phantasy and action there are a number of transitions, i
-the gestures, of which language is the last developed branch. The
stages of development of these phantasies and gestures have been
described very accurately by Ferenczi, so that I am astonished
that no clinician has made this work the basis of a clinical
psychiatry.
Lies and dissimulation correspond to a new subjection of
libidinous compensations (gestures and phantasies) under the domin-
ation of the ego impulses. They save the work of repression in
others and become of value socially. It seems that society endures
every real disadvantage rather than give up its repressions. Society
puts itself at the standpoint of that woman betrayed by her husband:
'pourvu que je ne le sache pas.'
They are regressive because they correspond to a phantasy
elevated to gesture which has not passed the test of reality.
« This circumstance indicates that the phantasy is older than the fully "i
developed motor discharge. |
• One is not terrified by such a materialistic expression. Perhaps we '
have no reason to conceive the libido materially, but just as little reason !
to forbid it. The whole assumption is perhaps superfluous.
406 AUGUST STARCKE
In the last stage its value is again repressed but not suppressed.
There occurs a curtailment of the obsessional neurotic mechanism
with evasion of the long path of prohibition, displacement, and
return of the repressed. And tliis for the reason that a part of the
imago is made independent, endowed with entire paternal authority,
identified with the narcissistic zVwa^o (the ego-ideal); tlie proliibidon
is changed in a still unexplained manner into a command and
ascribed to it, whereby tlie forbidden deed is committed simply
in the name of this ideal^ The ceremonial of the feast is a transition
stage to that of idealism. In the leasts of the orthophrenics hate is
still admitted as a pure return of the repressed (Festival fights of
primitive peoples, carnival affrays). Only the return of the primitive
libido is[admitted to the feasts of the metaphrenics, the hate is
assigned to idealism. The libido quantity saved by the idealistic
process of curtailment enters at first into narcissism, causes the
elevated frame of mind of the idealist, and renders possible the
further identification with authority and the projection of the pro-
hibition. The original delusion of greatness of the normal child is
again reached on this idealistic path. The mechanism resembles
economically a pendant of paranoia which is not exclusively homo-
sexual.2
I mention these stages in particular because an early fixation
of the ego impulses belongs to the conditions of some psychoses.
Both neurotics ' and psychotics have an over-development of the
narcissistic compensation. In neurotics the chief weiglit falls on the
narcissistic (and other regressive) phantasies, in psychotics on the
narcissistic gestures. This regressive over-development of gestures,
which thereby escapes the denial and dissimulation demanded by
society, is the cause of the particular attitude of the laity towards
mental patients. The psychotic acts anew the repressed period ot
childhood, as the delirious person acts the later phantasies.
The theoretical structure shortly sketched above can very well
' See also, Abraham: Intern. Zeitschr. f. drztl. Fsa. Bd. IV, 1916-17,
S. 183. For the leading points of view for the understanding of idealism:
Sigm. Freud, ' Zur Einfuhrang des Narzifimus ', Jahrbuch d. Psa. Bd. VI, 1914,
S. 1-24. Bernard Shaw, The Quintessence of Ibsenism, Ideals and Idealists.
' In the meantime I in no way consider the explanation of idealism given
here a first-rate one. It emphasises a side — the repressed side— of idealism
too exclusively. However, it is well to consider that the euphrenia serves for
its social purpose such a cult of the lies of life, which nosologically belongs
to the narcissistic neuroses.
4
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 407
be a house of cards. I do not even attempt to base it more securely,
as this would be impossible in the scope of an article. It is here
only of service as a provisional system of ideas, which is to permit |
the consideration of the ego impulses. I should like to call special , 1
attention however to just three points of view, which I believe -\
have to play a further role, namely, the reference to the lower I
stage of the genital (and other caudal) motility, the reference to |
the primary character of the inhibition in the movement impulse I
and retardation of the rhythm as the guiding line of the development 1
of motility. J
"•,■■'/ IX ^
" I'
: ■ " SUMMARY
^
THE ROLE OF INFANTILE WISH -FULFILMENT
The relation between neuroses and psychoses can be summed
up as follows: Both categories originate from the relative damming j
of libido as cause, and from the infantile fixation and ambivalency
as dispositional factors (libido impoverishment can be a cause in
itself, the fixation has then little significance).
The difference between the two groups is a quantitative one.
The boundary is dependent on the stage of development or re-
gression of the social civilisation.
The criterion of the lay concept of mental disease lies in the
technique of the morbid gestures (including speech), which shocks
the normal repression. In both groups the regression can pass from
libido and ego impulses to the very lowest stage. The regressing
quantity and the intensity of the regression of the libido are in
general less in the neuroses. The reconstruction is a compromise
in the neuroses; its result stands on a low stage in general in the
psychoses, as much for the libido as the ego impulses. The ob-
sessional neurosis (including civilisation) takes a medial position
between psychoses and neuroses.
The regression of the ego impulses runs parallel to that of
the libido.
The dispositional factor of the fixation is in the psychoses an
increase of the entire intensity of the fixation on lower stages.
The symptomatologicai difference between the two groups is
408 AUGUST STARCKE
Stages of the development of the Ego-Impulses
Stages of the motor inhibition of the Libido
Stages of the sensory inhibition of the Libido (?)
Stages of the secretory inhibition of the Libido
Stages of the formative inhibition of the Libido
Stages of development of the
Form of Motility.
Cultural Stages of the
Sexual Moral.
(j~j According to Freud,)
(Of the Motor Inhibition, of the
Motor Ego-Impulses).
Tonic Stages.
Tonus with Interruption.
Epileptic Stage.
1. Unconditional Free Practice.
Stage of Rhythmical
Repetition.
Stage of Reactive
Repetition.
Stages of Postponed
Repetition,
(stage of transference)
Stage of Lies and
Dissimulation.
Idealistic Stage.
2. Freedom only for Procreat-
ion.
3. Freedom only for Legitimate
Procreation (Cultural Sexual
Moral).
4. Procreation only for Definite
Classes (ergatoid Degenera-
tion).
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY
409
Stages of Development of the
Conscious Content.
Stages of Development of the
Sense oj reality according to
Ferenczi
(of the libidinal compensation}.
Euphoria.
Anxiety.
Stage of Unconditional
Omnipotence.
Stage of Magic-Hallucinatory
Omnipotence.
Desire.
Memory.
Stage of Omnipotence with
the help of Magic Gestures,
Stage of the real stage with
magic thought and magic words.
(.-,1
41Q AUGUST STARCKE
not dominated so much through the increase of the narcissism in the
psychoses as through its infantiUsm and through the breakdown of
the positive object-erotism which can keep the narcissism in check.
The differences between the symptom pictures are, moreover,
conditioned through the intensity of the regression as well as
through the distribution of the libido over parts of the body.
The psychotic breaking down of the censorship is perhaps con-
ditioned through abnormally strong pleasure in thinking. In the
psychoses organic libido increase plays a greater part. Organic
libido decrease is also responsible for schizophrenic pseudo-
dementia.
The four Freudian types of neurotic illness also occur in the
psychoses. In additon, psychoses often follow infantile wish-
fulfilments (for example, death of a relative, the possibility of
perverse practices), which are often thrust upon one by society.
Neuroses as reaction to denial have the tendency to remove
a want or create a substitute for it, and are more easily in-
fluenced.
Psychoses as reaction to fulfilment of forbidden wishes coin-
ciding with the damming of libido seem to be influenced less
easily. In the neuroses the teleological aspect preponderates, in
the psychoses the causal aspect ; or, better expressed, in the neur-
oses the secondary gain of illness preponderates, in the psychoses
the primary.
I must establish this aetiological assertion a little better. For,
since the neuroses and other regressive processes according to
Freud follow the denial of the Ubidinal gratification, the state-
ment that psychoses often follow wish-fulfilments might possibly
give rise to apprehension whether one has generally the choice
of anything else than psychosis or neurosis. Therefore I expressly
emphasise that the aetiologically effective and real wish-fulfilment
must be an infantile (forbidden) one, and I think the thesis can
be best made clear by an example.
Some years ago I observed a paraphrenic whose most pro-
nounced symptoms were periodic hallucinations of hearing, and
complicated and systematised delusions of reference and accusa-
tion. This man was also interesting in that he had repeatedly
changed his neurosis during his lifetime. When he was fifteen
years old he had a hysterical paralysis of the left arm which re-
sulted after convulsive attacks. During his period of study he had
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 411
produced several works as an author (literary sketches). During his
engagement he had for some time suflfered from a knife phobia-
His delusions broke out only after the inner failure of his marriage.
He had never had sexual intercourse during his three years
of marriage. He, like his wife, was entirely inexperienced and
timid, she had had vaginismus from the commencement and was
disinclined for intercourse. There were then in this case causes
enough for the damming of the libido, and evidence in plenty for
the importance of the factor of privation. On closer consideration
the matter turned out to be considerably more complicated. As
foundations of his neurotic constitution were established a number
of infantile libido fixations, which were grouped about the sad-
istic-anal-erotic stage. His object libido was relatively limited in
comparison with that used narcissistically, and the homosexual
stage was also excessively charged. Taken all together the whole
development of the libido was retarded by one station. Among
the infantile phantasies one appeared particularly in the foreground
in which he beat a girl on her bare buttocks. The struggle against
these phantasies had an influence on his aesthetic and ethical devel-
opment. In his marriage he now found opportunity to realise
this phantasy through the masochistic attitude of his wife. The
beating formed his marital activity; he masturbated as well. It is
therefore uncertain whether' one could talk of a real damming-up
of libido; I dare say this had preceded. During this period there
originated neurotic and artistic symptoms, but no psychosis. The
psychosis originated after a period of libidinal discharge on a lower
stage of development, after real fulfilment of an infantile wish.
As the chief stream of the libido was turned on to the second
pregenital stage, there remained for the charge of the genital
stages only entropy sufficient for the formation of phantasies which^
since the censorship corresponding to the real activity had regress-
ed, were then worked out in delusions. In this case we can re-
present the r61e of the preceding libido-damming as the one
source of the libidinal over-charge of the phantasies, so that these
in themselves became more pleasurably emphasised than usual.
The form of the discharge — through short circuit — brought it
about that the object was conceived infantilely.
In erroneously carried out actions, which are indeed otherwise
estimated through their incidental appearance but which have
nevertheless to be conceived as psychotic phenomena in their
ii &
412 AUGUST STARCKE
nature though lying within the normal, we also find the influence
of the infantile wish-fulfilment. A second example might
illustrate this.
An ambitious nurse of a somewhat neurotic constitution was
one day promoted to be a charge nurse. During the subsequent
weeks she was reported twice for being late on duty, which had
never happened before. The wish-fulfilment of the promotion was
in itself completely conscious and not infantile, but it concealed
an infantile and unconscious overestimation of her new dignity.
She behaved as though punctuality had now become superfluous.
Since I had had to treat her earher on account of conversion-
hysteria symptoms, difficult temper, and examination anxiety, I
knew that she possessed a strong self-overestimation restrained
with some difficulty. This was stimulated by the promotion. Be-
fore she became a nurse she had endeavoured to obtain another
intellectual position, but this had to be given up on account of
examination anxiety just before she reached her goal. Her pro-
motion therefore fulfilled a long-felt need. From the point of view
of libido-dconomics it might be said that there existed a libido-
damming which, as soon as the long cherished wish was finally
fulfilled, flowed off at the first moment to a somewhat too low
level in agreement with the narcissistic fixation, which was strength-
ened anew by the esteem originating from outside, i
As a consequence of the fact that in order to attain the result
she was compelled during several years of work to sacrifice some-
thing of her self-glorification, i. e. to loosen the narcissism and to
turn a portion of her libido to outer objects — a task which
succeeded though not without the accompaniment of certain neur-
otic by-products— this portion of the libido flowed back again
from the objects to narcissism after the final attainment of the
goal, and had to be forced anew, through the intervention of the
environment, to move itself to the uncomfortable higher level.
The primary illness gain is neutralised by the secondary illness
loss. The symptom breaks out as soon as the latter no longer
threatens. This is valid for all narcissistic symptoms and also for
that part of the 'psychosis' which is a narcissistic neurosis.
A third example. Social life is interspersed with all kinds of
' The other determinations, the castration complex, tendencies to self-
punishment, identification with her mother, etc. I cannot go into lest I break
the connection.
2S3I
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY )413
actions which are not logically motivated, and which to the objective
observer, or to an inhabitant of Mars endowed with judgement,
must appear as bordering on the insane. Take, for instance,
applause. This is obviously an entirely senseless action. A collection
of people, who have been for some time silent and peaceful and
have borne the influence of one or some other individuals on
their sight and hearing, at the end of the performance breaks
into an infernal noise, and the individual who has taken pains to
please them is far from feeling offended at this outbreak, but, on
the contrary, is the more flattered the more violent it is and the
longer it lasts.
The meaning of this nonsense is as follows. In the course of
every lecture, sometimes after several hours or minutes, sometimes
even after a few seconds, a moment comes in which the public
has only one manifest wish: Let it end! Let him disappear!
This wish is nourished by primitive infantile rebellious tendencies,
by mutiny against every authority, against the compulsion to im-
mobility, against the father or the one temporarily representing
his authority.
Hardly is this infantile wish fulfilled — the lecture is over, thank
goodness — when the libido dammed up by the long enforced
immobility breaks out in a discharge and indeed takes on the
epileptic phase. ^
This would be the meaning of the symptoms with reference
to the negative libido. The rites in question are grief rites. The
positive side is also easily guessed. One puts himself into a passive
attitude and tolerates for some time the activity of one or several
individuals. Now the enjoyment ceases, and this gives to the public,
who have remained passive, occasion for an actively directed ex-
pression towards the individual who was active, an expression
which can be better understood if we study its various degrees.
» Naturally this does not mean that I ascribe epileptic attacks to normal
human beings. The epileptic attack is a discharge of the 'epileptic' stawe
of inhibition, likewise the fanatical applause, but applause and attack are
yet not identical. The criterion of the ' epileptic ' stage of inhibition is the
continuance of the discharge with interruptions up to exhaustion. I chose
the term ' epileptic ' — pars pro toto — because this word is easily impressed.
I also willingly admit that in most cases the applause is more inhibited
and belongs to the stage of rhythmical repetition, as Prof. Freud remarked
during the author's lecture. Sometimes ev,en to the stage of lies and dis-
simulation.
414
AUGUST STARCKE
i.
f
V
Iv
t'..
Its conscious purpose is to be a reward and a sign of sympathy
and thanksgiving. It is a request to continue a while, and it allows
itself to be stopped only by an encore.
Applause in its usual form is only a rudiment. In its more
complete form its meaning is that the active individual should
come back, then go away again, then return; so he has to carry
out in the hall a coming and going movement, which, if the success
was complete, is crowned by the fact that he is offered flowers,
and in the highest stage, and only if he is a man, is offered a
wreath for his head. Briefly, one does not need to go to Central
Australia to find a social ceremonial in which a group of human
beings summons another one by rhythmical clapping of hands to
copulation.
The whole has the form of an exchange of rhythmical gestures
between the public and those who come before the public. It is
a conversation in a language which we understand better than
that which we speak or write, and in which we feel ourselves
happier.
It seems that the savage in us is not replaced by the civilised
human being, but is covered over by him as by a net. The primit-
ive peeps through the meshes on all sides. Every conversation,
every one of our expressions, moves at the same time in paths
of all stages of inhibition; in every stage resounds a little of every
stage that has been overcome from time immeasurable; the greater
the share of the lower stages and the more it contains of the
sphere of rhythm, etc., so much the more unrestrainedly and deeply
it gratifies us.
If one gives undivided attention for only one hour to the
psychic impulses, words, and movements of a human being, one is
easily convinced that the 'cultural' highest stages of inhibition are
not more common in the midst of the deeper ones than are ships
on the wide rhythmical world of ocean waves and currents. For
navigation we require the sea as much as the ships, even if there
are storms.
I should like to exploit somewhat more fully the example ot
applause. The discharge at the end of the lecture is not as a rule
the only thing. Compromises now and then occur during the
enforced immobility and when attention is turned towards the
object. Someone blows his nose at the wrong time, coughs or
yawns, another allows his attention to wander and gives himself
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS AND PSYCHIATRY 415
up to his own day-dreams in expectation of an occasion to laugh
— likewise a discharge of lower stages of inhibition approximating
to the epileptic stage.
Whilst the applause was the cultural analogue of an acute
psychosis, we have before us, in these compromises, actions which
show some inner agreement with neurotic actions. They appear
during the damming of libido enforced by the social attitude. As
in#the two other examples we find that during the period of the
damming-up the work of civilisation takes place, conception,
understanding, elaboration and eventually creation. As by-products
there appear neurotic, either perverse or criminal, at any rate
infantile, minor discharges, residual elaborations. As soon as society
opens the sluices and raises the dam the greater discharge takes
place; a discharge which is the more violent and the inhibition
(ego impulse) of which is the lower, the greater was the preceding
damming-up, and the greater are the capacities (fixations) of the
lower levels as compared with those of the higher. Discharge
seeks . only the lowest resistance. Every discharge on a certain
level increases the capacity of that level. Although the fixations
acquired during development are highly important, it is very likely
that society — by removing inhibitions or direcdy prescribing mono-
tonous repetitions as in Taylor's system and its recent modifications
which announce themselves under innocent names and form the
harmful background of psycho-technique — causes regressions of
longer duration which, as psychoses and in their mass appearance
as wars and social unrest, endanger its own existence.
Reality, to which progressive development learns to pay attention
and on which patients are wrecked, in society increasingly consists
of the more or less regressed libido of other social classes. Five
years ago I would not have dared to emphasise so expressly the
importance of social order for the causation and also for the con-
stitutional disposition of mental diseases. Society appeared to be
something unalterable, and our sole task was to help the patient
to adapt himself again to this society.
At the present time when equilibrium is so unstable, we too are
responsible for the coming reconstruction, and the demand must
be made that not only should man adapt himself to society, but
that society should adapt itself to the peculiar needs of man.
M
^1
COMMUNICATIONS
A BIRTH OF THE HERO MYTH FROM KASHMIR
by
M. R. C. MACWATTERS, Lucknow, India.
The Valley of Kashmir is a wide alluvial plain which to this
day is liable to disastrous floods because at its outlet the mala
river escapes through a narrow gorge which obstructs the escape
of any considerable accumulation of water. In fact the whole
valley is almost as dependent as Holland on its drainage and
other engineering works.
The first serious attempt to protect it by dams and drainage
operations was made by Suyya in the ninth century and an
account of his exploits is given by a historian named Kalhana*
who wrote three centuries later. Although much of his story
appears to be historical, the account of Suyya's origin is a typical
birth-myth, which utilizes a part of his engineering exploits for
its symbolic expression. Kalhana recounts how such protective
works as already existed had been neglected by a series of kings
until the reign of Avantivamam and how famine had come upon
the land in consequence. He then proceeds as follows:
Chapter V, Paragraph 72. Then through the merits of Avanti-
vamam there descended to earth the Lord of Food himself, the
illustrious Suyya to give fresh life to the people.
73. 7he origin of the wise man was not known, and his deeds
which Tnade the world wonder proved that though [he appeared]
in the fourth period (Yuga) lie was not bom from a [woman's] womb.
74. Once a Candala woman, Suyya by name, found when
sweeping up a dust heap on the road a fresh earthen vessel fitted
with a cover.
75. Raising the cover she saw lying in it a baby, which had
eyes like two lotus leaves and was sucking his fingers.
^ See Fajatarangini by Kalhana. Translated into English by Sir Aurel
Stein, 1900.
416
"\
' I'T'-i'irl
A BIRTH OF THE HERO MYTH FROM KASHMIR 417
76. 'Some unfortunate woman must have exposed this lovely
boy' Thus she thought in her mind, and then from tenderness
her breasts gave milk.
77. Without defiling the chUd with her touch she arranged
for his keep in the house of a Sudra-nurse and brought him up.
78. Taking the name of Suyya he grew into an intelligent
[youth] and having learned his letters became a teacher of small
boys in the house of some householder.
79. As he endeared himself to the virttious by observances in
regard to fasts, bathing and the like, and showed a brilliant intel-
lect, men of sense kept around him in assemblies.
80. When these were complaining in their conversation of the
flood calamity he said 'I have got the knowledge [for preventii^
it] but what can I do without means?'
81. When the King heard through spies that he was saying
these words persistently, as if he were deranged In his mind, he
was surprised.
82. The King had him brought up and questioned him about
this saying. He calmly replied also in the royal presence *! have
got the knowledge.'
83. Thereupon the Lord of the Earth, though his courtiers
declared him (Suyya) crazy, was anxious to test that knowledge
and placed his own treasures at his disposal.
84. He took many pots full of money (dinnara) from the treasury
and embarking on a boat proceeded in haste to Madavarajya.
85. After dropping there a pot full of money at a village called
Nandaka which was submerged in the flood he hurriedly turned back.
86. Though the councillors said 'that Suyya is surely only a
madman ' the King when he heard this account became interested
in watching the end of these proceedings.
87. On reaching in Kramajya the locality called Yaksadara
he threw with both hands money (dinnara) into the water.
88. 89. There where the rocks which had rolled down from
the mountains lining both river banks had compressed the Vitasta
and made its waters turn backwards the famine stricken villagers
then searched for the money, dragged out the rocks from the
river, and thus cleared the [bed of the] Vitasta.
90. After he had in this manner artfully drained off that water
for two or three days, he had the Vitasta dammed up in one
place by workmen.
28*
418 M. R. C. MACWATTERS
91. The whole river which Nila produced was blocked up by
Suyya for seven days by the construction of a stone dam — a
wonderful work.
92. After having the river bed cleared at the bottom and
stone walls constructed to protect it against rocks which might
roll down he removed the dam.
93. Then the stream flowing to the ocean set out on its
course in haste as if eagerly longing for the sea after its
detention.
94. When the water left it the land was covered with mud
and with wriggling fishes and thus resembled the [night] sky
which when free from clouds displays black darkness and the
stars. ■ .
96. The river with its numerous great channels branching off
from the original channel appeared like a black female serpent
which has numerous hoods resting on one body.
Following the example of Otto Rank in 'The Myth of the
^irth of the Hero' those points which are common to many such
myths are printed in italics. Their analysis has been fully worked
out by him and need not be dealt with here, but several features
of the present story are worthy of mention.
We may infer that the hero's real father is the King. It is
true that the phrase which attributes his origin to the merits of
the King is a common expression in the flattery of oriental court-
iers who attribute all fortunate events to the auspiciousness of
their ruler, but we may interpret it as an implication of parenthood
also, especially as the scene in which the King receives and wel-
comes him is very reminiscent of the scenes of reconciliation in
other hero-myths. The hostility between father and son is not
obvious but is perhaps hinted at in the neglect, not of the King
but of his predecessors, and in the activity of his spies. The hos-
tility of the courtiers must surely stand for the hostility between
the hero and his brothers. Several points in the story show redup-
lication, for example he is found in a pot and embarks in a
boat upon the water, these symbolising the same idea, and the
first foster mother, like Pharoah's daughter, hands him over to
a second.
We see the expression of a number of childhood fantasies ia
the tale. The hero boasts insistently *I have the knowledge' and
that even in the presence of the King (father). Just so would the
I
A BIRTH OF THE HERO MYTH FROM KASHMIR 419
child like to be able to boast of sex-knowledge even to his father
but cannot, and even when he has the knowledge he lacks 'the
means'. Whereas in some fantasies it is the father who denies
knowledge and power to the son, here the father encourages the
one and provides the other (wish-fulfilment). Sir Aurel Stein's
notes on tlie word 'dinnara' here used for money are interesting.
A dinnara is a unit of value so small that it was more likely a
cowrie than a metal coin (and lends itself therefore to identification
with seed) while the ideas of money and grain are largely inter-
changeable since payments were more often made in grain than
in coin even up to recent times in Kashmir.
The 'infantile theory' of generation from faeces comes to ex-'
pression through the dust heap where he is found and through
the mud which covered the land and swarmed with wriggling
fishes.
We find also an expression of the common fantasy of being
one's own father. The Hero engages in certain interesting opera-
tions at the outlet of the valley where he scatters money (or seed),
as a result of which there is an accumulation of the waters for
seven days, or if we allow ourselves to add the two or three
days mentioned in verse 90, a total period of 9 or 10 days cor-
responding to the 9 months or 10 moons of pregnancy, and he
achieves this result by the erection of a dam whose solidity the'
story emphasises, 'a wonderful work' indeed! In the opening
sentence we are told that he 'came to give hfe' which he does
by fertilising Kashmir, his mother-land.
i
PERSONS IN DREAMS DISGUISED AS THEMSELVES
by :
' ' ERNEST JONES, London.
I have rq)eatedly met with a remarkable form of disguise in
dreams which [does not seem to have received much attention,
although it is one that can be particularly misleading to the ana-
lyst. Its characteristics are as follows. A well-known figure appears
in the dream, most often a parent, clear and unmistakable. The
associations, however, lead just as unmistakably to another person,
and are of such a kind as evidently to apply to the latter. One
is thus bound to say that the famiUar person in the dream is for
some reason replacing the other, and in interpreting tlie dream
one has to substitute the second person in the place of the first
Many analyses go no furtlier than this quite correct procedure, no
suspicion being aroused. Yet when one reflects on tlie matter one
finds it peculiar — and contrary to our experience otherwise — that
a familiar image, and one dating from the earliest infancy, should
represent one of later date and of less psychical significance to
the dreamer. ,To accept such a state of affairs as a definite explan-
ation would be to approximate to the views held by Adler, Jung
and Maeder, according to which a recently acquired and often
highly abstract notion can be 'symbolised' by a more concrete and
personal image dating from infancy, i. e, the very opposite to the
general findings of psycho-analysis. The dreams in question afford
a very good test as to which view is nearer to the truth.
On paying attention to all the details of such dreams it will be
found that what may be called the 'current' interpretation does
not cover them as completely as it at first seemed to, some really
relating to the actual dream person. On pursuing the analysis it
will also be discovered that the 'dream thoughts' concerning the
second person who is concealed behind the dream figure are really
of the nature of transferences from repressed infantile material which
once referred to the original person, the dream figure, and still does
420
PERSONS IN DREAMS DISGUISED AS THEMSELVES 421
so in the unconscious. The process is well illustrated in the follow-
ing dream.
The patient dreamt that she and her mother were in the presence
of some officials, who were inquiring as to their ages. The mother
stated hers as 22, whereupon the patient thought, a Utile derisively,
'How can she make such a ridictdous statement when her ag^e is
actually §2. '
It appeared a particularly meaningless dream, for her mother's
actual age was 61, and no question of age had arisen of late in
regard to her. On the other hand 52 was the age of her mother-
in-law, and tlie further associations made it plain that this was the
woman intended in the dream.
On thinking of the ages given in the dream the patient's first
reflection was that the difference between them was 30, from
which one drew two inferences: that the number 3 was of some
importance, and that there was some dream thought of comparison
between two ages, probably the difference' between the ages of
two people. Although the number 3 was contained in the first
association, it was only indirectly indicated in the manifest content
of the dream, where the figure 2 occurs three times over and the
difference between it and the only other figure is also 3. We are
therefore concerned with three figures, 2, 3 and 5. These relate
both to her own age (35) and to her mother-in-law's (52). It was
a great grievance with the mother-in-law that the patient was 6
(2 X 3) years older than her son (the patient's husband), partly
because she feared that there might be no offspring. There was a
considerable rivalry between the two women (especially on the
part of the older one) as to the possession of the husband, who
was an only child. An absurd instance had happened a short time
before, when at the census-taking (statement of ages) the mother-
inrlaw had refused to enter her son as a guest (he was staying
with her for a day or two at the particular date); she insisted on
entering him, not only as a permanent resident in her house, but
also as a 'student', although he had completed his professional
studies years before. He was bom when his mother was 22, the
other age in the dream, the theme of child-birth being thus indi-
cated.
At the time of the dream the patient was pregnant and there
had been considerable friction over this subject with the mother-in-
law, who was already indicating her intention of exercising authority
KSS
422 ' ERNEST JONES •' '■ '■
over the future arrangements and upbringing of the child. Both
women were therefore instituting claims over the child, as over
the man, and the dream represents the scornful reflection of the
younger woman that the day of the other was past. It practically
says: 'Remember you are 52; you mustn't think that you are
bearing a child, that you are again 22'; in it there is contained
a veiled reference to the patient's own age and therefore to the
contrast.
' This seems an entirely satisfactory explanation of the dream,'
and does indeed account for the current 'dream-thoughts'. But I
have not related the whole of the dream, nor, for certain reasons,
can I. Pursuance of the analysis, both of these other details, which
related to the mother, and of the themes just mentioned, shewed
that the dream, like most dreams, had also infantile roots. The
most prominent number in the dream, 2, related to the age when
the patient had woven various important child-birth phantasies
during her mother's pregnancy, and the more concealed, i. e.
repressed, number, 3, was her age when these were destroyed by
the birth of a little brother. While, therefore, all the immediate
associations led away from the mother who appeared in the dream,'
and indicated that she was only the substitute for another person,-
closer consideration shewed that this second person owed much of
her significance to the fact that she was an adult substitute for the
mother of childhood.
In the process in question there are thus three layers: the
original person and the infantile thoughts relating to him or her;
the secondary person about whom there are similar thoughts also
in a state of repression; and the superficial appearance of the
original person in a situation that would more naturally apply to
the second one. It is with excellent reason that, for instance in this
dream, the mother is used to represent thoughts concerning the
n:iother-in-law. The patient had always been on good terms with
her mother as long as she could remember and the infantile
situation indicated above was covered by an almost complete
amnesia in which there were only a few islands of 'screen-memories'.
No more successful way, therefore, could have been chosen to
conceal the rivalry and jealousy with the mother-in-law over the
birth of a child than, in effect, to say, ' Of course I am not jealous
of her; that is as impossible as saying that I could have been
jealous of my own mother when she bore my little brother'. And
PERSONS IN DREAMS DISGUISED AS THEMSELVES 423
no argument could be more convincing to the patient, for as
it concerned the most deeply repressed part of her personality
nothing could be more remote from her consciousness or less
likely to be true.
The process illustrates two phenomena with which we are
famiUar in psycho-analysis: the 'return of the repressed' as Freud
terms it; and the significance of free association, which is the
essence of the argument imderlying the dream. When a patient
says 'this is as likely — or as impossible, as the case may be — as
that', he is furnishing an unusually free association, to which
special attention should always be paid. Itis a familiar experience
that when anyone says 'for example' then we get the truth.
AN UNANALYSED CASE
ANAL EROTISM, OCCUPATION AND ILLNESS*
by
TOHN RICKMAN, London.
The old man whose case is here given came under observa-
tion in circumstances which rigidly excluded analytic investiga-
tion; the facts given below were poured forth by the patient
and tell their own tale; this brief notice cannot convey the full
impression his conversation left on the mind, his dramatic nods
and grimaces illustrated his story when words failed him.
The patient is now aged sixty-five. He said he had bowel
trouble for twenty-seven years, beginning with 'diarrhoea and
corruption and prolapse following the conception of my only son ;
he had 'no control over his bowels at all'. Since that time (1893)
he had not had a single solid motion. I asked whether he had
had treatment and what relief he had received. He replied that
when going to a doctor he always said, 'Now, doctor, don't inter-
fere with my bowels whatever you do!' Nevertheless he went to
a famous hospital and was treated for six months. He kept 'fit
for twelve years and then became worse. At this point 1 asked
how fit he was during that time. He said he was fit enough to
work, he didn't go more than four times before he left the house
in the morning; once immediately on rising, the second time after
lighting the kitchen fire, then again after shaving and last after
breakfast just before leaving for his work. I asked if the diarrhoea
continued throughout the day and if his illness interfered with his
work. He replied that usually he did not go more than eight
times in the day and that he always knew how hard he was
going to find the day's work by the way he went before break-
fast, 'more than four times and I know I am going to have a
bad day.'
In 1904, after twelve years of good health, his trouble became
* This case-history was presented verbally to a meeting of the British
Psycho-Analytical Society on February 10, 1921.
424
- ' AN UNANALYSED CASE 425
worse so that he was 'weakened in body' and he returned to tbe
htKpitaL Here, he said^ they fetched the doctors with the longest
fingers and examined his back passage. It was said that the
'webs' which held his bowels up were weak and so his 'insides'
had dropped down. He was in a bad way, they gave him six
hours to live and advised that he should go to the infirmary. His.
wife would not hear of tliis, so he returned home and recovered
without treatment.
Eight years later the trouble returned. In the interval he had
poor sphincter control but could 'hold' better at some times
than others. Again eight years later he had another bad turn and
on this occassion went to another hospital where I saw him.
I asked what the hospital had done for him this time; he replied,
rather dolefully, that they had cut his bowels out. As a matter
of fact a caecostomy had been performed and he had colon lavage
daily. At the operation the pathological findings were: Enormous
thickening of caecum and ascending colon. The blood serum
agglutinated Flexner's bacillus in all dilutions and Shiga's partially.
No amoebae were found in the stools; he received a course of
emetine.
He did not volunteer anything else about his health so I asked
him about his occupation. He was a labourer and worked for
preference at unstopping sewers or in digging the foundations oi
houses and making tlie trench from the house to the 'main'
(drain, of course). I asked if the smells in the sewers were bad,
he replied, ' Oh no. Well, -notliing in partic'lar. I never worked in
compressed air'. It appears that some sewers are kept fresh by
forced draught, it was in such that he had not worked. He had
also been a bricklayer's labourer and had to mix the mortar.
He was next asked to tell about his bowel condition before
the illness which began twenty-seven years ago and in particular his
> condition during infancy. He said he had been ' free in his motions
as a young nipper but later had a costive nature' which caused
him to miss a day or two, and he had had trouble to pass his motions,
which were like green walnuts. However, at the age of sixteen
or seventeen when he went to work at the gas-works his costive-
I ness came to an end and he was 'free' again.
I When asked what his relations had suffered from he replied
I that he had an idea that his father was troubled with his bowels,
I because he was frequently seen to stand with his legs crossed in
k
426 JOHN RICKMAN
an attitude as though he was squeezing himself up. Then the
patient volunteered, 'I always advises my son, "if you feel it — GOt
Never hold it back"'. His son is now 'troubled with kidneys and
wind'.
The patient dreams at night that women are preventing him
from going to the water closet
SOME REMARKS ON A DREAM
by
ADOLPH STERN, New York.
In my experience it has not often occurred that a dream should
contain material in barely disguised, yet symbolic form; material
that was in the main readily interpreted on direct or immediate
associations. An interesting feature is that of the two important
wish (repressed) elements in the dream one was present in the
patient's consciousness from the time of its origin, while the other
became evident to her only when well along in the analysis. It
may also be of interest that though the dream is short, and the
associations to the dream elements few in number, yet they dis-
close the most important sets of impulses concerned in the neurosis
of the patient.
The dream to be described was that of a woman thirty-six
years of age, married thirteen years, sterile. The condition for
which she sought treatment was an anxiety-hysteria, some of the
symptoms being: an easily aroused anxiety and apprehension,
gastric disturbances and constipation. The most pronounced
characteristic traits were obstinacy, inordinate regularity in all things
and a psychological difficulty in regard to money matters, though
not miserliness. A well pronounced feeling of envy in regard to
boys existed from her very early childhood, being later in life
transferred to men. These scanty details may aid in the apprecia-
tion of the dream, which was as follows:
'I was up on the roof, standing against a fence; a hole in it.
Some boys inserted something into my rectum; it was of wood.
I knew that it belonged to a boy. I ran away, they stood and
laughed at me. It was a joke on me. The wood was colored red
and green. I was so ashamed, because I knew it belonged to a
boy, and I was a girl-'
Addendum: 'I was small and young; I had no clothes on.'
The patient had met a woman the day preceding the night of
the dream, whom she had not seen since the second year of the
patient's marriage. The woman on the day of the meeting had
427
428 ADOLPH STERN
told the patient that a sister of the former had wished very much
to have a child, and that after seventeen years of married life she
had developed symptoms which had been diagnosed as a tumor, but
which turned out to be a pregnancy, though it had afterwards terminated
in an abortion, to the great disappointment of the woman.
On the day preceding the dream, the woman had also asked
the patient if she had any children, to which the patient with
mingled feelings of regret and shame had answered in the nega-
tive,, adding 'and I do not know why.'
Associations to 'fence'. Suggests fence in the yards of houses in
which patient lived in childhood; the intense pleasiu-e derived from
sitting on a fence, swinging her legs, as boys do; the great pleas-
ure in climbing fences, as boys do.
Further associations to 'fence with hole' disclosed that, though
the patient had for many years on account of a vaginal discharge
been making frequent vaginal douches, she still had more difBculty
in finding the vaginal orifice than the anal, though she rarely took
an enema. Further associations brought out that her husband had
often referred to the patient, as ' a piece of wood with a hole in
it', on account of her sexual frigidity.
This group of associations indicates the patient's desire to do
what boys do, her envy of boys, and the apparent transference of
the libido to the anal, from the vaginal region. Associations to other
parts of the dream contain references to the same material from
miare repressed sources.
Associations to 'wood inserted into rectum': patient stated that
when speaking to the acquaintance on the day preceding the dream
she had had a very strong desire to have a child herself, and that
it was really the first time she had consciously wanted a child and
regretted her sterility.
Associations to 'red and green' color of the object, are: red is
blood; the bleeding that took place when the woman aborted. Red
and green suggest little dolls that children play with. About two
years ago the patient saw just such a doll in the hands of a child
that was with its mother, who at the time was pregnant.
The reference above to one of the important dream elements,
indicating the existence of material conscious to the patient from
the time of its origin, concerns what the patient stated at this
point; namely, her recoUectien that she had since early childhood,
between the ages four and five, thought that babies came from the
SOME REMARKS ON A DREAM 429
rectum; nor had she forgotten having seen, about the age of five
or six, the sexual act in animals, and had based later sex concep-
tions on this] incident; at, about the age of eight years, the
patient saw a cat give birth to kittens, and thought that they came
from the rectum. This tended to strengthen the previously formed
anal theory. AU this material had always been conscious to the
patient. The patient also recalled that at the time of witnessing
the birth of the kittens, she saw blood issue with them. 'Green'
in the dream is reinforced by the association of green with jealousy
and cats, for which animals the patient has a very strong aversion.
As she puts it, she 'hates cats'.
This group of associations has reference to the anal birth
theory, and explains in a measure why the anal region is more
familiar to the patient than the vaginal. The following wiU also
help to explain the patient's ignorance concerning the latter region.
Further associations to the red and green object recall the
patient as a child, how she thought that boys laughed at her for
being thin and small; being present, at the age of three or four
years ^ at a circumcision, and, after the people had left, examining
with great interest and in secret, a small object on an ash tray
which she thought was the cut off penis, but which she later
decided was a heap of cigar ashes. At about the age of eight, on
one occasion she examined the genitals of a younger brother, and
noticed her own lack of an organ such as his. In the dream the
patient remarks that she is ashamed, because she knew it belonged
to a boy, and she is a girl. The patient also recalled that in her
family there was always a great 'fuss' made when a boy was
bom, but the birth of a girl was passed over as of little account
The general feeling in the family was that *boys were something',
while girls were relegated to the background.
In all this the great envy on the part of the patient of boys
because they possessed a penis is very evident, though this as such
was not conscious to her. It is the other of the repressed elements
of the dream above mentioned as not being conscious, while the
former was from the time of its origin.
» It is likely that this incideat took place at a somewhat later age, but
other incidents recalled by the patient seem to fix this one somewhere
between the years mentioned in the text. I wish to mention that the sequ-
ence of the associations as given in this report has been varied in places
for the sake of clearness.
EXAMPLE OF DISPLACEMENT OF ORIGINAL AFFECT
UPON PLAY
by
MARY K. ISHAM, New York.
A pretty example of how a child occupies or sublimates in
its play feelings or impulses which it has been forcibly hindered
from expressing in a cruder way recently came to my notice.
A father was telling me the following story about his Uttle son
who is very headstrong. The boy is three years old, exceedingly
sturdy, active, and aggressive, and must be almost constantly
supervised on account of his surprising impulses. Last fall when
his father and mother went to the cemetery for their yearly decora-
tion of the family graves, they took the child with them. In
one part of the family lot is a long slab lying horizontally and
marking the location of graves of ancient members of the family.
The parents of the child started to place flowers on this slab. He
did not approve and vigorously threw on it a handful of earth
which he had gathered from a neighboring newly made grave.
Although told to stop, he kept pelting the slab with earth. As
nearly as the father can remember, the boy was scolded, shaken,
or slapped seven or eight times for persisting in this conduct
Finally his father had to hold him forcibly, while his mother
finished decorating the graves. The child was very angry, although
quiet on the way home and seemed to forget the incident by
evening.
The next morning he went out-doors to play. His mother
happened to look out of the window and saw that he had dragged
a long board from the back to the side yard and placed it flat
where the grass was especially green and thick. He then vigorously
pelted the board with one handful of earth after another, until it
was completely covered. Then he carefully brushed the earth
away. His mother saw him do this four times, but he had been
engaged in the occupation some time before she looked out. We
make a guess that he pelted the board as many times as he had
430
DISPLACEMENT OF ORIGINAL AFFECT UPON PLAY 431
been hindered from pelting the slab at the cemetery. He worked
with great energy and earnestness. After cleaning the board thor-
oughly he left the spot with the air of having completed an
important work and ran into another part of the yard to play.
That he left the board clean speaks well for his social sense and
feeling of confidence in his father's right to exercise authority.
But the play represents a satisfied revenge against his father,
probably also a compensation for the attention bestowed by his
mother upon the graves, and a final method of getting his own
way by symbolic play.
The dynamics appear to be the following. The Oedipus
, complex was manifested by a jealousy directed toward the object
occupying his mother's attention — the grave-stone. The jealousy
i toward the grave-stone was an animistic survival, in that the child
i endowed the stone with a hostile personality, and expressed his
f jealousy and hatred by mud-slinging. The child's resentment at
] interference in his fighting aggressiveness was transformed into a
I fighting anger against his interfering father, which anger was
J! gradually repressed by the external force of paternal authority.
(Since the repressing force continued, the manifest anger gradually
passed into latent, seemed to die out entirely, and the whole
incident to be forgotten. By an unconscious subhmation (the ad-
jective is predicative) t^he original affect then effected an outlet in
compensatory play.
89
TWO CONFINEMENT DREAMS OF A PREGNANT
WOMAN
. .•' hy ■/:...'.
J. MARCINOWSKI, Heilbrunn.
1. *I dreamt of a big sand-hill like the one in front of our
house in W., only this one went up to a point. I had continually
to walk round and round the point. I had the feeling : You must !
I do not know whether I had to do it for practice or for
some other reason. I kept looking down, and grasping firmly and
anxiously in the sand with my hands. A road ran at the botton
of the sand-hill, and there was water by the side of it I was
terribly giddy, just as I used to be in the mountains. As I was
crawling about feeling that I was going to fall the hill suddenly
opened, and I was drawn downwards as in a funnel. I felt I should
be suffocated by the sand falling in on me. Instead, however, I
felt that I was descending quickly, and I arrived at the bottom
in an open space similar to a wide tube and close to the road.
A restaurant was opposite in which people were drinking coffee.
The whole situation reminded me of a mere where we often
played when children. Then I awoke. My feeling was quite different
from that after my other dreams of falling; I was quite easy and
relieved'.
2. 'I was downstairs with our housekeeper in the kitchen. The
domestic offices were the same as in T., but were in the basement,
somewhat low, like ours. A few steps led up from it as though
from a shaft, and I saw the sun shining into the passages. I want-
ed to go up into the dining-room to dinner and was afraid that
you might scold me if I came too late as usual. But when I tried
to come up the different exits I always had to return at the top
step, because they were closed by something I could not explain.
It was like a blind which moved of its own accord and tlirough
which I could only get my head, but stuck with my shoulders.
Then I suddenly managed to force myself through one of the
openings which yielded all of a sudden. Then I was in the side
432
TWO CONFINEMENT DREAMS OF A PREGNANT W
entrance to the farmyard in T. out in the open in the sunlight.
I had my 'brown dress on, and when I looked down to see if I
was tidy to go into the dining-room I found the dress was crum-
pled in deep creases which were held together by burrs. This I
felt was very unpleasant; it was like a spider's web which had
clung to my dress from the passage. I thought I had made myself
very dirty'.
I quote these dreams without analysis, since their interpretation
is obvious from the condition of the dreamer. They furnish a
proof of our conception of the dream thoughts that is independent
of the analytic technique, and confirm the theory without imputing
it to the analytical method of interpretation. The confinement took
place four weeks later.
In both dreams the dreamer does not appear in the character
of one about to give birth to a child, but it is as though she
anxiously re-experiences the memory of her own birth and ex-
presses it symbohcally. The sand-hill and its colour of human
skin obviously represent the pregnant abdomen out of which the
dreamer enters on the way of life (the road) with feelings of
anxiety. Stekel somewhere remarks that one's own birth is the
first great anxiety attack in life. Indeed, if we think ourselves into
the child's position at its own birth it is quite evident that this
leaves behind a vivid impression, though without the possibility
of picturing it clearly, as is the case in purely emotional memories.
Anxiety and feelings of suffocation are associated with each other.
The coffee for the midwife and the relatives in attendance after
the great relief stands for the humour in the dream. The inter-
I pretation of the dream comes as it were at the end; the whole
dream recalls the story of tlae stork who fetches little children
}. from the marsh (the mere).
' Also the second dream describes the feelings of the child about
■ ^ to be born, and not those of the mother. Arriving too late for
i dinner has its meaning — her previous child came into the world
■ very late. The process of birth is described very characteristically
— the head pressing forward and receding, and the difficulty of
I the passage. The fact that the different passages led into the open
I is an allusion to infantile sexual theories. As soon as the new-
i, born child has arrived it is near the anal orifice (the farmyard).
1 The whole situation of the dream is located in the lower regions
;| of the body (the domestic offices), where the alimentary process
w
■•-1, ■•-'»
I:
JrfV ^
r'-'i-
if... i'-- •^•1
.'x> i"j .»* y;
434 ,; J. MARCINOWSKI ,
is cared for. The brown dress represents the newly bom child
smeared with meconium. The child's skin is often creased after
the birth and does not appear presentable.
Dreams of this kind are often better suited to prove the justi-
fication of our dream psychology than a profound analysis of
difficult dream material.
■V ■: .
COLLECTIVE REVIEW
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS
by
■ FELIX BOEHM, Berlin.
♦ 1. Adler, A.:
2. Bluher, H.:
3. Idem:
4. Idem'.
5. Idem'.
6. Fedem, P.:
7. Ferenczi, S..
8. Idem:
9. Frank, L.:
10. Freud, S.:
11. Zf^w:
12. /i/<?w:
13. Idem:
14. Friedjung J.
15. Hattingberg,
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Das Problem der Homosexualitat. 1917.
Die Rolle der Erotik in der mannllchen GesellschafL
1917/19. ,
'Zur Theorie der Inversion*. Int. Zeitsckr. /. Psa.
n. S. 223.
'Die drei Gnindformen der sexuellen Inversion*.
Jahrb. f. Sex. Zw. 1913. Xm.
' Studien iiber den perversen Charakter '. Zentralbl. /.
Psa. IV, S. 10.
'Beitrag-e zur Analyse des Masochismus und Sadismus.
II. Die libidinosen Quellen des Masochismus'. Int.
Zeitsckr. f. Psa. H. S. 105.
• Hysteric und Pathoneurosen. Intern. Psychoan.
Bibliothek, Nr. 2. 1919.
'Zur Nosologie der mannlichen Homosexualitat'. Int.
Zeitsckr. f. Psa. 11. S. 131.
Sexuelle i^nomalien. 1914.
Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie. (Third, enlarged
edition.) 1915.
Eine Kindheitserinnerung des Leonardo da Vinci.
(Second, enlarged edition,) 1919.
' Ein Kind wird geschlagen '. Int. Zeitsckr. f. Psa, V.
S. 151. (Trans. Int. Jour. Psa. 1920, Vol. I, p. 371.)
Vorlesungen zur Einfuhrung in die Psychoanalyse.
1918.
K.: 'Schamhaftigkeit als Maske der Homosexualitat*.
Int. Zeitsckr. f. Psa. EI. S. 155.
H. v.: 'Analerotik, Angstlust und Eigensinn'. Int.
Zeitsckr. /. Psa. H. S. 244.
435
436
COLLECTIVE REVIEW
16. Hug-Hellmuth, H. v.: 'Ein Fall von weiblichem FuC-, richtiger
Stiefelfetischismus '. Int. Zeitschr. f. Psa. III. S. 111.
17. Marcinowskiy 3^.: 'Die Kindheit als Queilgebiet perverser Nei-
gung-en', Geschl. u. Gesellsch. 1913. VIII. S. 31.
18. Riklin, F. : Zur psychoanalytischen Auffassung des Sadismus. 1914.
19. Sadger, y.: ' Ketzergedanken uber Homosexualitat'. Gro^' Archiv,
Bd. 59.
'Neue Forschungen zur Homosexualitat'. Berliner
Klinik. Februar 1915. Heft 315.
'Allerlei Gedanken zur Psychopathia sexualis'. Neue
drztliche Zentralzeihing. Jahrg. 1919. Neue Folge 6.
'Psychosexuelle Intuition'. Zeitschr. f. Sexualwissen-
schaft. VI. S. 81.
'Ein Fall von Analerotik (Priapismus).' Zeitschr. f.
Sexualwissensch. V. S. 271.
Storungen des Trieb- und Affektlebens. H. Onanie
und Homosexualitat. (Die homosexuelle Neurose.) 1917.
Zur Psychologie und Therapie des Fetischismus.
Zentralbl. f. Psa. IV. S. 113.
'Homosexualitat und Geschlechtsbewertung '. Geschl.
u. Gesellsch. 1914. IX.
■• *Zur forensischen Begutachtung des Exhibitionismus ',
Zeitschr. f. Individualpsychologie. I. Bd. 2. II.
'Beobachtung eines Falles von erotischer Perversion
mit Neurose'. Int. Zeitschr. f. Psa. Bd. II. S. 265.
20. Idem:
21. Idem:
22. Senf, P.:
23. Steiiel, W. :
24. Idem:
25. Idem:
26. Stacker, H.:
27. StraJSer, Ch.
28. Anon. :
Frank (9) describes a number of cases of perversions which
he has treated during a half sleep state. He found that memories
of events that had had a harmful effect on the development of
childhood and puberty could be reawakened quickly and without
difficulty during hypnosis. The semi-conscious problems and phan-
tasies aroused by external events, the sexual theories of earliest
childhood, could not be made conscious. Therefore the investiga-
tion in these cases was only a superficial one.
The case of a young girl who showed a number of perverse
traits IS described in the 'Beobachtung eines Falles von erotischer
Perversion mit Neurose' (The observation of a case of erotic
perversion with neurosis) (28). The patient's father was a drinker.
She herself was of a very infantile disposition and addicted to
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 437
pathological lying. When she -was eighteen years old she was
persuaded on one occasion only to sexual intercourse, which
resulted in her becoming pregnant. From that time she experien-
ced nausea at any sexual advance on the part of a man, and
also showed marked prudishness with regard to having her neck
and arms bare. This prudishness changed into a pronounced
exhibitionism at moments of sexual excitement. Observationism
was marked in her youth, but later was completely repressed.
There was a strong skin and muscle erotism in connection with
the exhibitionism, but tlie vaginal mucous membrane was com-
pletely anaesthetic. The patient also showed pronounced maso-
chistic traits. Men under forty years of age had absolutely no
attraction for her. Two years after the birth of her child she gave
way to alcohol, obviously following her father's example. She was
an only daughter and loved her father greatly. The author traced
the morbid phenomena to a number of painful impressions in her
childhood. Unfortunately it was not possible to carry out a tho-
rough analysis. The case is interesting theoretically from its
admixture of neurotic and perverse elements.
Freud has made a number of important allusions to the per-
versions in his ' Vorlesungen zur Einfuhrung in die Psychoanalyse '
(13), in his remarks on dreams (S. 232), and particularly in his
theory of the neuroses (see S. 346, 354, 360, 370, 389, 396, 402,
409, 415). Freud's remark in the third edition of the 'Drei Ab-
handlungen' (10) (S. 91) seems to me of great importance as
regards therapeutic influence over the perversions. 'These latter, i.e.
perversions, are not merely to be traced back to the fixation of
infantile tendencies, but also to regression to the tendencies in
consequence of the damming of qertain currents in the sexual
■ stream. It is for this reason that the positive perversions are
I accessible to psycho-analytic therapy'.
I Riklin's work 'Zur psychoanalytischen Auffassung des Sadis-
f mus' (On the psycho-analytic conception of sadism) (18) has
really nothing to do with psycho-analysis. The 'causal' method
t of consideration is contrasted with the 'final' one.
I Fedem investigates the libidinous sources of masochism in the
second part of his work (6). He separates the concepts 'female'
I and 'masochistic', and 'passive' and 'masochistic' from one another.
The term masochism — in contrast to the passive sexual com-
|i ponents — should only be used if sexual pleasure is obtained
mm
438 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
from non-sexual suffering. In the same way he distinguishes sadism
from the active sexual components; the source of the sexual
pleasure is displaced from the sphere of sexual activity to the
sphere of aggression. The sadist does not obtain sexual end-
pleasure by using force or causing pain in taking sexual possession;
his pleasure lies solely in the taking possession or excitation of
pain itself. The author does not regard masochism simply as
the persistence of an infantile sexual activity, nor is he content
merely to point out the erotogenicity of certain zones and the
nature of the perverse • partial impulses in childhood which lead
to masochism. According to his view masochism results from the
fixation of definite infantile partial impulses; but he attempts to
establish more precisely the causes of their fixation and the con-
ditions under which they assume the masochistic character. These
infantile components are re-awakened in masochism. The same
process occurs in sadism, but with an opposite tendency. In sadism
: active components of the normal sexuality re-awaken erotic
and other infantile partial impulses. Passive components are neces-
. sary for the development of masochism. Both tendencies go back
to causes which, in spite of their antithesis, existed simultaneously
beside each other and can be summated.
The author has established the view that an active sexual
sensation belongs to the sadistic sexual feeling, and a passive one
to the masochistic sexual feeling. In many of his cases there was
not only a difference in the quality of the sensation, but also its
somatic localisation in the male genital was different in the two
conditions. In extreme masochists the surface of the penis is
sexually quite anaesthetic; the masochistic excitation is localised
in the perineum. In sadists and normal individuals it is located in
the glans. Masochism only appears when the passive sexual sensation
communicates its own character of passive pleasure to the whole
ego, and the ego feels itself identified with its organ in reference
to the pleasurable passivity. Masochism is possession and control
I of the whole personality by the passively directed libido. The
I masochist has not only passive sexual experience as regards his
sex organ, but also as a whole, therefore in other organs and
spheres.
r In order to show the libidinous sources of masochism the
f' ^ author divides the different aims of the libidinous strivings into
f I; action-libido and passion-libido. Libido that is directed to a passive
'■ ■ ■ *>!• ':< J.
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 439
aim proceeds from all those organs whose gratification is asso-
ciated with a passive process. These partial impulses supply-
passion libido.
The author comes to the conclusion that masochism has to be
considered as the result and expression of the primacy of passive
partial impulses. If the sum of the latter is sufficiently strong,
then they are in the position to overcome the other activities of
the individual, and discharge themselves by unconscious mecha-
nisms in passive situations in the sexual sphere, whereby the
individual experiences passive sexual feelings. But since the active
attitude is connected with penis libido (genital libido) by similar
mechanisms, the disturbance of the activity which gives rise to
masochism is expressed in the man by an inhibition of libi-
dinal penis sensations; thus in masochists the passive sensations
in the erotogenic zones corresponding to the female sexuality
appear in the foreground, while the male organ becomes sexually
\ anaesthetic.
1 The only fault in Federn's work is the omission of any
I reference to the pregenital organisation stages of the development
" of the libido. Otherwise it contains the kernel, or at least the
j first steps towards our present views. Freud considers that the
i skin of the body is always the primary seat of masochistic
! practice. Ferenczi supposes that in masochism a secondary and
j henceforth neurotic process leads to the repression of the normal
i genital impulses and to a regression towards the (by this time
genitalised) original skin masochism. He calls this the primitive
i masochism.
\ With reference to masochism and sadism the following new
I remarks are to be found in Freud's 'Drei Abhandlungen' (10)
i (S. 23). Strictly speaking only extreme attitudes should be called
perversion-attitudes in which gratification is associated exclusively
, with suifering or the causing of physical or mental pain. Maso-
I chism seems to be farther removed from the normal sexual aim
' than its counterpart sadism, and is not a primary condition but
I originates from sadism. It is sadism turned upon one's own
■ person, which stands in the place of the sexual object.
Freud's study, 'Kin Kind wird geschlagen' (A child is being
beaten) (12), adds considerably to our knowledge of the origin of
; masochism and sadism. Patients who are under treatment for
hysteria or obsessional neuroses very frequently admit this phantasy.
I ^^_ ■ i
440 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
Feelings of pleasure are associated with it; and at its height it is
very frequently accompanied by onanistic gratification. The patient
is usually very unwilling to admit this phantasy, and the memory
of its first appearance is decidedly uncertain. The first phantasy of
this nature generally occurs very early, about the fifth or sixth
year of life. The influence of school was so evident that the
patients were tempted to trace their beating phantasy exclusively
to impressions received at this time; but in reality the phantasy
had existed before the school period. In the higher school classes
this phantasy received new stimuli from reading books like 'Uncle
Tom's Cabin', etc. Looking on when a child is being beaten in
school never produced the same pleasure as that of the phantasy;
also in the more refined phantasies of later years it was a con-
dition that the chastised children did not receive serious injury.
The persons who produced the material for this analysis had not
been educated with the help of the cane. The only answer receiv-
ed to a closer inquiry into the content of this phantasy was:
•I know nothing more about it: A child is being beaten.' Under
these circumstances it cannot at first be decided whether the
beating phantasy denotes a sadistic or masochistic attitude.
Such a phantasy of autoerotic gratification emerging in the
early years of childhood can only be looked upon as a
primary characteristic of a perversion. One of -the compo-
nents of the sexual function has preceded the others in
development, made itself prematurely independent, and become
fixed, thereby indicating a particular peculiarity in the con-
stitution of the person. When we find in adults a sexual ab-
erration we quite rightly expect to discover by means of an
anamnestic investigation such a 'fixing' occurrence of childhood.
The significance of the 'fixing' impressions is found in the fact
that they have offered to the prematurely developed and over-
active sexual components the cause, an (accidental) occasion, for
the fixation. The actual constitution seems to correspond to such
a view. A prematurely detached sadistic sexual component sug-
gests a disposition to an obsessional neurosis. This idea was
borne out in the investigation of six cases. '
An analysis carried back into early childhood shows that this
phantasy, which first appears after the fifth year of life, has a
complicated previous history. During the course of the phantasy
it more than once changes its relation to the person producing.
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 441
the phantasy, its object, content, and significance. The content of
a primary and very early phase of the beating phantasy in
I female persons is: 'The father beats the child', or more
fully, 'The father beats the child I hate'. This phantasy is
certainly not masochistic, neither is it definitely sadistic, because
the child creating the phantasy does not do the beating itself.
The second phase has never been conscious ; it is a necessary
construction of the analysis. Great alterations have taken place
betw^een it and the first phase. Literally the second phase is:
:i 'I am beaten by my father'. This has undoubtedly a masochistic
1 character. The third phase resembles the first, except that the
' child producing the phantasy substitutes for the father a person
I representing him (teacher) vi/ho does the beating, and (in the
; phantasy of girls) several boys are beaten instead of one child.
The phantasy is now the bearer of a strong and definitely sexual
excitation, and leads to onanistic gratification.
An analysis carried back into that early period shows that the
little girl is occupied with the excitations of the parental complex;
, she is affectionately fixed on her father. But there are other
children in the nursery with whom she has to share her parent's
love, and on account of this she casts them aside. If she has a
i. younger brother or sister then he or she is hated and despised.
It is soon seen that the being beaten signifies a denial of love
' and a humiliation; it is a comforting idea that the father beats
: a hated child. Therefore the cogent and significance of the
J beating phantasy in the first phase is: 'The father does not love
I this other child, he only loves me'. It is doubtful if it can be
i called a pure 'sadistic' or a pure 'sexual' phantasy, but it is
composed of the material of both. In no case need we assume
an excitation associated with phantasies leading to an onanistic
act. In this premature object choice of incestuous love the sexual
?■ life of the child obviously reaches the stage of the genital organi-
[ sation. The incestuous amourousness is repressed, because it is
its fate to perish, probably because its time limit has expired,
for children now enter into a new phase of development in which it
f is necessary for them to repeat from the history of mankind the
repression of the incestuous object choice, in the same way as
I they had been previously compelled to make such object choice.
A guilty conscience appears simultaneously with this process of
repression. The phantasy of the incestuous love period had said;
442 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
'He (the father) only loves me, not tlie other child, that's why
he beats it'. The guilty conscience cannot find a more severe
punishment than the reversal of this triumph: 'No, he does not
love you, for he beats you'. The phantasy of the second phase,
to be beaten by the father, now appears as the expression of the
guilty conscience to which the love for the father succumbs. It
has therefore become masochistic. As far as I know this is always
the case; the guilty conscience is always the factor which changes
sadism into masochism. But this is certainly not the whole
content of the masochism. The guilty conscience cannot alone
have taken complete possession ; the love impulse must also have
its share. Since the phantasy concerns children in whom the
sadistic components could stand out prematurely and isolated on
constitutional grounds, a regression to the pregenital, sadistic-anal
organisation of the sexual life is particularly easy. When the
scarcely reached genital organisation is affected by repression, then
not only does every psychic representation of the incestuous love
remain unconscious, but the genital organisation itself experiences a
regressive diminution. For instance, 'the father loves me', was
meant in a genital sense ; but through regression it is changed
into, 'The father beats me (I am beaten by the father)'. This
being beaten is now a union of guilty conscience and erotism;
it is not only punishment for the forbidden genital relation, but
also its regressive substitute, and it obtains from this latter source
libidinal excitations which henceforth are attached to it, and are
discharged in onanistic acts. The second phase of the beating
phantasy is as a rule unconscious, and in consequence, onanism
that has appeared during this period is under the control of
unconscious phantasies which are replaced by the beatmg
phantasies of the third phase."
We look upon this third phase of the beating phantasy as
such a substitute, i.e. the final formation in which the child
producing the phantasy appears as the on-looker while the father
is represented by the teacher or other person in authority. The
phantasy which is now similar to the first phase seems to have
turned again into a sadistic one. It gives the impression, 'The
father beats the other child, he loves only me'; the accent has
gone back to the first part after the second has succumbed to
repression. Only the form of the phantasy is sadistic, the grati-
fication obtained from it is a masochistic one; its significance
.?!'.,
{ '•■
k
/" ' ' ' SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 443
lies in the fact that it has taken over the libidinal charge of
the repressed portion and also with this the guilty conscience
attached to the content. All the many indefinite children who
are beaten by the teacher are only substitutes for the person
himself (or herself).
These observations are of service for the explanation of the
genesis of perversions in general, and of masochism in particular.
These views do not invaUdate the conception which puts in the
foreground the constitutional strengthening of a sexual component
in perversions, they merely amplify it. The perversion no longer
stands as an isolated fact in the sexual life of the child, but is
brought into connection with the typical processes of develop-
ment. It is brought into relation with the incestuous object love
of the chad, the Oedipus complex; it first appears at the basis
of this complex, and after the basis is broken up, the perversion
often remains as an inheritance of the libidinal charge of the
complex and burdened with the attached guilty conscience. It
seems possible that all infantile perversions have their origin in
the Oedipus complex. The 'first occurrence' is fixed by the per-
verse person at a time in which the control of the Oedipus
complex had already passed; the effective event remembered in
such a mysterious manner could very well represent the inherit-
ance. Just as the Oedipus complex is the kernel of tlie neuroses^
so in a similar way the beating phantasies and other analogous
perverse fixations are only deposits of the Oedipus complex, as
it were scars after the expired process, the notorious 'inferiority'
corresponds to such a narcissistic scar^.
The discussion of the beating phantasies only furnishes a
meagre contribution to the genesis of masochism. It seems to be
established that masochism is not a primary expression of an
impulse, but originates from a turning back of sadism upon one's
own person, a regression from the object to ithe ego. It is of
course true that we find impulses with passive aims from the
beginning, particularly in women, but passivity is not the whole
of masochism; there is still to be accounted for the pain character
which is so strange in the fulfilment of an instinct. The trans-
formation of sadism into masochism seems to occur through the
influence of the guilty conscience that accompanies the act of
1 Cf. Marcinowski: 'Die erotischen Quellen der MindeiwertigkeitsgefUhlc',
Zeitschr. fur Sexualwissenschaft, IV, 1918.
444 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
repression. The repression expresses itself in three ways. It makes
unconscious the results of the genital organisation, forces therri to
regress to the early sadistic-anal stage, and changes their sadism
into the passive, and in a certain sense again narcissistic, maso-
chism. The second of these results is rendered possible by the
weakness of the genital organisation which may be assumed in
these cases. The third result becomes necessary because the guilty
conscience objects to the sadism in a manner similar to the
genitally conceived incestuous object choice.
The second phantasy, the unconscious and masochistic phase,
to be oneself beaten by the father, is far more important; its effects,
which are directly derived from its unconscious setting, are
shown in the character of the person. Human beings who bear
within them such a phantasy develop a particular sensitiveness and
irritability towards persons whom they can regard as 'fathers*.
I shall refrain from dealing with the second part of Freud's
work which described corresponding conditions in boys^ in order
not to complicate the picture of the connections between per-
versions and the Oedipus complex.
Von Hattingberg in his article, 'Analerotik, Angstlust und
Eigensinn', (Anal Erotism, Pleasure in Anxiety, and Obstinacy)
(15), critically, though hesitatingly, discusses Freud's view that
orderliness, parsimony and obstinacy are connected with anal
erotism in childhood. His views are built up from his own ex-
periences and from examples which are apparently unanalysed and
unconvincing. By 'anxiety pleasure', i. e. a 'mixed' — 'agreeable-
disagreeable' — feeling, the author understands the sexual pleasure
which arises from anxiety. He considers 'anxiety pleasure' has a
somatic origin.
Stekel under an unfortunately chosen title, *Ein Fall von
Analerotik (Priapismus) ' (A case of anal erotism [priapism]) (23),
describes the case of a man, fifty-four years old, who for years
had suifered irom nocturnal erections. The erections were pro-
duced by a phantasy, but the author does not explain its origin.
Strasser in his article 'Zur forensischen Begutachtung des
Exhibitionismus' (27) gives the history of two exhibitionists, but
omits the details of their early childhood. He endeavours to bring
the explanation of these cases into line with Adler's views.
A case of fetishism is described by H. von Hug-Hellmuth,
(16). The sexual feelings of a lady, who took no interest in men
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 445
and obtained no gratification in normal sexual intercourse, were
quite consciously directed upon boots, particularly Jack-boots worn
by men, and the foot in the boot, especially the toes. Her father
was an officer and she had been very interested in his Jack-boots
from early youth. She became engaged to an officer who was
thirty years her senior, 'because he had such delightful feet'.
Later she fell in love with a very ugly and elderly officer, 'I am
dying of love for the most delightful Jack-boots I have ever
.seen'. This ended in an unfortunate marriage. Bare feet filled her
with disgust. 'If I only imagine to myself the big toe it fills me
with disgust ; and the nails which are always crumpled, and the
little toes which can never grow, these are horrible to me '. When
she was twenty years old she suddenly cast aside a young officer
whom she had preferred on account of the above attraction, be-
cause she noticed him moving his toes in his boot when he was
sitting beside her. She declined the wooing of another because
he had 'bunions'. The case was not analysed, but an explanation
is attempted from the material given. When she was ten years
old she had ' wished for high-legged boots. This wish was probably
on account of her identification with her beloved father, and the
strong desire to be a boy (foot = penis), and not purely from
narcissism. The lady's attitude towards the bare foot seems to be
of special significance. The foot is a symbol of and substitute for
the penis. At some time or another her attention must have been
directed to the male, that is to say paternal, genital, and this
became repressed and transferred to the foot. In its r61e as a
penis substitute it had to be concealed and special demands were
made of its covering in tlie interest of the idealisation of the ob-
ject, for instance, newness (which perhaps signifies integrity) and
freedom from creases ; hence the qualification ' delightfully respect-
able' applied to Jack-boots. Probably ideas of castration played
a part in her horror of crumpled toes and nails. The masochistic
factor is quite evident : ' One can tremble before Jack-boots, and
yet one has to love them'.
Freud has made two new remarks apropos of fetishism in his
'Drei Abhandlungen' (10) (S. 19, 21). 'This weakness would
derive from a constitutional disposition. Psycho-analysi s
shown that premature sexual intimidation which diverts the normal
sexual aim and stimulates its substitute is an accidental condition.'
' In many cases of foot fetishism it can be shown that the
■>s-
;. Vi;fi
::
S-t
4^'^' '' ■'■ ■' " ' COIXECTIVE REVIEW '■ •
i.,t,i •- ■,; ; ■.. .:• .. - , . • .- ; • i* ■■'''■■■ •':
impulse to look was originally directed upon the genitals, which
impulse wished to get near to its object from below but was
prevented by prohibition and repression, and for this reason the
foot or shoe is retained as a fetish. The female genital would be
represented as a male one in accordance with the infantile idea, '
Stekel in his work, 'Zur Psychologie und Therapie des Fet-
ischismus' (25), gives the 'analyses' of two cases of fetishism.
The author explains his method of procedure as follows. 'I will
now quote one of the many dreams of this patient It affords us
a deep insight into the structure of the neurosis and the motive
of this fetishism. I might add that I at first carried through the
analysis without associations from the patient, and afterwards under
my guidance^ the patient produced the material belonging to the
dream. This analysis is a brilliant proof that one does not get
far in the majority of dreams by using Freud's methods. My
methods have to be adopted if one wishes to obtain new know-
ledge. It is certainly easier to await the associations of the
dreamer, than to arrive at the correct interpretation through one's
own ideas. But it is not everybody who has the gift of this dream
interpretation'. In the detailed 'analysis' of a long dream there
is not one association of the patient and it is never evident
whether the ideas are the patient's or Stekel's interpretations. The
author comes to the conclusion that both cases are 'Christ neur-
oses', for the cure of which there is only one way, marriage,
'because here coitus is no longer a sin'. The author states that
fetishism is a substitute for religion. The fetishist is offered a new
religion in the form of a perversion which gratifies his desire for
belief. It originates from a compromise between an over-powerful
sexuality and a strong piety. However, all this has nothing to do
with psycho-analysis.
Adler's 'Das Problem der Homesexualitat ' (1) has already
been criticised by Federn. It is simply a recapitulation of the
views expressed in 'tJber den Nervosen Character'.
Friedjung in his article ' Schamhaftigkeit als Maske der Homo-
sexualitat' (Prudishness as a mask of homosexuality) (14), de-
scribes the case of a man aged thirty-nine who, on account of
his homosexuality, refused to undress before the doctor. 'The
trouble is, the doctor is dressed during the examination, if he
were naked then it would be all right'.
1 Reviewer's italics. , • '
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 447
R. Senf in his article, ' Psychosexuelle Intuition' (22) repeats
his theory of the origin of homosexuahty in order to show his
method of Psycho-Sexual Intuition'. Perversions originate from the
splitting up of the sex act into the 'single impressions* of which
it is composed. Male homosexuality is derived from 'the single
impression of the excitation'. Senf disagrees entirely with Hirsch-
feld's idea of homosexuality that it is a biological variant He
considers that it is a developmental product which appears as an
inborn and finished disposition.
' Psycho-Sexual Intuition ' is based on 'inner experience'. 'The
results of chemical or biological investigation originate from a
\ world which has nothing at all to do with the sphere of inner ex-
perience.' Psychical processes can only be conceived ' iiituitively ',
and for this a ' disposition ' is necessary in order to discover in
oneself psychical possibilities, to yield to them, to get near to
them, to note their ghding into one another, and also to perceive
I their relations to each other, and finally to find them again in all
related and imaginable nuances. This concerns a kind of 'sensa-
tion mathematics' the conscious experience of psychic results
and their application.
Bliiher's work, 'Die Rolle der Erotik in der mannlichen Ge-
sellschaft' (2) has already been criticised by Eisler. It is intended
i to prove the views expressed in his earlier works on Inversion
['Zur Theorie der Inversion' (3), 'Studien iiber den perversen
Charakter' (5), and 'Die drei Grundformen der sexuellen Inver-
sion' (4)]. The work is useful to psycho-analysts to enlarge their
knowledge concerning the extent of repressed homosexual tend-
encies in many social circles. Bliiher repeatedly uses the words
I 'analysis' and 'to analyse' in quite a different meaning to the
I psycho-analytic. Bliiher's treatment of homosexuality is very
i similar to Magnus Hirschfeld's adaptation therapy ; he ceases to
analyse where we begin.
Sadger's 'Ketzergedanken iiber Homosexualitat' (19) is a critic-
; ism and refutation of Magnus Plirschfeld's views on homosexuality.
Sadger summarises his new experiences on male inversion in
I his article 'Neue Forschungen zur Homosexualitat' as follows:
', 1. The urning behaves towards female sexual objects like the
: psychically impotent person who is incapable because he is fixed
on his mother or more rarely his sister.
2. A part of his specific constitution lies in the fact that, on
448 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
the one hand, his muscle erotism is diminished from the outset,
while on the other hand, his genital libido and the sexual pleasure
in looking — this latter being particularly directed to the sex
organs — are considerably increased.
3. Very frequently the already over-strong genital libido is
further increased by stimuli coming from the father who loves
his offspring to excess.
4. An over-estimation of the male genital pursues the urning
like a demon. r ...
5. For similar reasons there exists a particular pleasure in
handling the penis. The typical 'corrupters' are for the most part
'absolutely' homosexual.
6. The over-emphasis of the genital libido without exception
leads to early amourousness towards the opposite sex, above all
the mother or her early representative.
7. The mother's sharp repulse occasions his first disappointment ;
the second is the missing of the penis in the, mother, which he
feels more acutely than normal children. ...
8. When in maturity he again experiences a disappointment
in sexualibus through the mother, he becomes fixed on his own
sex by means of regression to the primarily loved mother with
the penis.
9. This regression enables him to give and receive the two
strongest sensations of love of every man, i. e. love of the mother
and of the ego. This accounts for the urning's fixation on the man.
The whole article contains much that is of value for those
interested in the problem of inversion. ,
In the first part of Sadger's article 'AUerlei Gedanken zur
Psychopathia sexualis ' (21) he divides homosexuals into three groups.
(1) Homosexuals who prefer men of the same age. (2) Those who
prefer younger men or youths. (3) Those who have a decided
preference for older and even quite old men. Sadger endeavours
to explain these groups from the study of a case of dementia
paranoides in a patient twenty-five years old. This patient por-
trayed all the three groups in himself He conducted himself
passively towards older men who represented his father, wishing
to be embraced, kissed and finally coitised by them, in a similar
manner to that which he had often seen in the case of his father
and mother. He conducted himself actively towards men of his
own age, who clearly represented his motlier in appearance,
SEXUAL PERVERSIONS 449
wishing to coitise them like his father and thereby fulfil an old
wish of childhood. Towards younger men or youths who repren-
sented himself in earlier years he was accustomed to play the
r61e of the mother. This scheme is a typical one. The homo-
sexual does not really wish for the man, but for the woman with
the penis (his mother). ' The first sensations of pleasure received
by the new-born child are from sucking at its mother's breast.
This pleasure consists of two feelings, namely, the pacifying of
hunger, and the stimulation of an important erotogenic zone —
the mouth.' 'Many neurotics regard the placing of the nipple in
the mouth as a sexual act with the mother. In their childhood
they considered that the mother possessed a breast-penis with
which she coitised the little boy. ' Sadger also explains cunnilingus
and fellatio on the basis of this primitive coitus. (The second part
of Sadger's article I have not been able to obtain.)
Ferenczi in his article 'Zur Nosologic der mannlichen Homo-
sexualitat (Homoerotik)' (8), describes two different types of homo-
sexuality, namely, the active and the passive. He uses the term
'homo-erotic', first employed by F. Karsch-Haack instead of
'homosexuality' in order to call particular attention to the
psychical side of the impulse. The term 'invert' should only be
used where there is a 'pure anomaly of development', an actual
reversal of normal psychical and physical characteristics. This
condition cannot be influenced by psycho-analysis or any other
psychotherapeutic measures. A man who in intercourse with men
feels himself a woman is inverted in relation to his own ego
(homo-erotic through subject inversion or 'subject-homo-erotic').
The 'active homosexual' feels himself a man in every relation;
only the object is changed, i.e. he is an ' object-homo-erotic. ' In
the early history of the subject-homo-erotic we already find signs
of inversion. As a little child he creates phantasies of being in
his mother's place, and not in that of his father ; he wishes the
death of his mother, and early shows various girlish traits. ^
Object-homo-erotics are true obsessional neurotics. Their ob-
sessional ideas abound in obsessional protective procedures and
ceremonies. The characteristic lack of balance in love and hate
is found in them. Object-homo-erotLsm is a true neurotic com-
pulsion, with logically irreversible substitution of normal sexual
aims and actions by abnormal ones. Their early history is as
follows: precocious heterosexual aggression, 'normal' Oedipus
JO*
i
450 COLLECTIVE REVIEW
phantasies, severe punishment on account of hetero-erotic offences
in earliest childhood. Analysis shows that an object-homo-erotic
unconsciously knows how to love the woman in a man. The
active-homo-erotic act appears on the one hand as subsequent (false)
obedience, which avoids intercourse with women, but indulges
the forbidden hetero-erotic desires in unconscious phantasies ; on
the other hand the paederastic act serves the purpose of the orig-
inal Oedipus phantasy and denotes the injuring and sullying of
the man. Ferenczi in designating object-homo-erotism as a neurotic
symptom comes into opposition with Freud, who in his 'Sexual-
theorie' describes homosexuality as a perversion, neuroses on the
contrary as the negative of perversions. However, according to
Ferenczi the contradiction is only apparent. 'Perversions', i. e.
tarrying at primitive or preparatory sexual aims, can very well
be placed at the disposal of neurotic repression tendencies also,
a part of true (positive) perversion, neurotically exaggerated,
representing at the same time the negative of another perversion.
Now this is the case with 'object- ho mo-erotism'. The homo-erotic
component, which is never absent even normally, gets here over-
engaged with masses of affect, which in the unconscious relate to
another, repressed perversion, namely, a hetero-erotism of such
strength as to be incapable of becoming conscious. In a purely
theoretical respect Ferenczi seems to me to take up an essentially
new point of view regarding the perversions.
Freud, in a new foot-note in his 'Drei Abhandlungen ' (10)
(S. 12/13), very decidedly expresses himself against considering
homosexuals as a special group of human beings. All human beings
are capable of object choice towards the same sex and have
accomplished this in their unconscious. That object choice is not
dependent upon the sex of the object seems to be the original
tendency. The normal as well as the inversion type is developed
from this original tendency through restriction. The inversion types
show throughout the predominance of archaic constitutions and
primitive psychic mechanisms. Their chief characteristics are narcis-
sistic object choice and erotic significance of the anal zone. In
childhood the absence of a strong father frequently favours
inversion.
Freud's analysis, 'Eine Kindheitserinnerung des Leonardo da
Vinci' (11), when it appeared furnished the greatest contribution
to our knowledge of homosexuality.
BOOK REVIEWS
Psychoanalyse und soziologie. Zur Psychologie von Masse und Ge-
sellschaft By Aurel Kolnai. (Intemationaler Psychoanalytischer Verlag,
Vienna, 1920. Pp. 152. Price 2s. 6d.)
The book consists of two main parts, the first dealing with the
sociological results of Psycho-Analysis, the second with the possibilities
of Psycho-Analysis in the field of sociology.
The first part, which is sub-divided into several chapters, endeavours
to draw a distinction between the results gained by direct observation
of society itself and those gained by observation of the individual.
Psycho-Analysis, working with entirely new methods, might be expected
to produce new results. Its research into the sphere of sex has thrown
light on the formation of primitive society and at the same time on the
dissolution of it. Can Psycho-Analysis play any great part in socio-
logical science? The question is answered in the negative; as Psycho-
Analysis occupies itself only with the individual it cannot possibly play
an important part in the science of society. Nevertheless, the aim
of Psycho-Analysis, though it started only as a purely therapeutic
one, has become wider and wider. It coincides with the aim of politics,
namely to make the individual better adapted to his surroundings, his
conditions, in short to his milieu. Any reform of sexual and family life
(a sociological question) can only be successful when helped by psycho-
analytical insight.
Psycho-Analysis has reached three important results for sociology:
the research into Race Psychology, into Primitive Society and into the
Connection between the Individual and Society. This last point com-
prises the vast fields of Pedagogics and Family Life.
Psycho-Analysis is able to explain primitive processes, not however
the differentiated ones. Collective ideas on a low level, being the sum
of individual thought, can be explained by these methods. The neuroses
are regressions to that level.
Sexuality forms the most important link between the two sciences,
since it can be observed in both the individual and society. The central
question of mcest, the feeling towards the father, changing from hate
to ambivalency, is the beginning of social conflict. Psycho-Analysis by
its methodical investigation of the unconscious mind has rendered the
most valuable services to Sociology, For, although the unconscious
. 451
452
BOOK REVIEWS
mind seems a-social, as one cannot express or communicate unconscious
conflicts, it reveals itself clearly in the actions of the individual and
society. The content of the unconscious mind, forbidden wishes, leads
when incompletely repressed to neurosis, to flight from society. By
making those unconscious wishes conscious and helping thereby to
overcome those tendencies hostile to society, Psycho-Analysis is of the
greatest importance for social politics.
The second part, on the Possibilities of Psycho-Analysis, suggests
possible ways for Sociology to make more use of the results gained by
psycho-analytical research. Psycho-Analysis has always ascribed the
greatest value to the surroundings of the individual and its effect on
his character. By extending those investigations and grouping them
carefully according to Race, Profession, Financial Conditions, and by
carefully working out the material statistically, a wide field of new-
knowledge opens for Sociology. An analysis of the character of the
English, for example, has been ventured by Maeder.
On the Psychology of Social Movements Psycho-Analysis with its
new methods is bound to reach deeper thsu any other science. An
analysis on those lines is here attempted witii the social movement of
Anarcho-Communism. After defining this conception, Kolnai explains
Anarchism as a regression to the murder of the father. Through being
a regression, and not a development, it is doomed to failure. It is not
the strife of men, but the struggle of children.
Communism; on the other hand, is less hostile to law; it allows an
authority, a father. Communism is the social movement of the workman,
hi its earliest stages it shows a distinct longing to return to Mother
Earth (Physiocrats) which can easily be understood from the feeling of
the workman, living far from the country and without the possibility of
seeing it. hi this stage, with its doctrine: Work according to Ability,
Food according to Needs, it has a striking resemblance to the childish
principle of getting the most with the smallest amount of discomfort
It is not designed to develop strength and will power by exertion. In
its further development, where it recognizes authority, Communism rises
from an infantile movement to the struggle of youths.
The task of following and expounding the author's ideas is made
extremely difficult by thq richness of the material worked into a small
book and also by the way this material is used. The author seems to
deal with subjects in the order — or better disorder — in which they occur
to him. There is no trace of a plan. Some of his statements would be
very surprising to students of Political Economy, such as the one that
Psycho-Analysis was the first to give its due importance to the sur-
rounding milieu conditions of the individual. One is not sure whether
to attribute the superficial, and in parts ridiculous, character sketch of
the English. to the author or to Maeder from whom it is taken. The
BOOK REVIEWS 453
definitions of Anarchism and Communism are, though very long, by no
means complete. What he describes as a childish impulse, to get most
with the smallest amount of work, is usually considered to be the
reigning economic principle. However, Kolnai himself describes the
book as nothing more than a sketch. It is impossible to deal adequat-
ely with such an enormous amount of material in a small book; on
the last twenty pages he starts on an analysis of Marxism, Bolshevism
and the effects of the War on society. Nevertheless the book is full ol
ideas and most interesting, though far from easy reading. Some more
knowledge of sociological and economic literature, a more fluent and
coherent style and a strict plan to coordinate the rich flow of ideas
would make an excellent book of what is now only an interesting
sketch. A table of contents as well as an index would be a great
improvement.
Katherine Jones.
Concept OF Repression. By Girindrasheklar Bose, M. B., D. Sc,
Lecturer in Psycho-Analysis and Abnormal Psychology at the University
of Calcutta. (Bose, Calcutta, 1921, Pp. 223. Price Rs. 10.)
This must be the first work on psycho-analysis written by an Ind-
ian, and we note with interest that it reveals a considerable know-
ledge of the subject. The author tells us that he has been practising
psycho-analysis since 1909, and although he has no access to writings
in the German language, and evidently only to a certain number of
those in English, he gives evidence of considerable personal experience
as well as of careful thought.
In the first chapter or two the author explains his position as a
pan-psychic determinist, a doctrine he applies thoroughly. He has
chosen repression as the title of his book and as the main theme in it
because in his opinion 'Freud's concept of repression is perhaps the
most important contribution to psychopathology '. He then expounds the
subject of repression, of conflict, and of allied themes familiar to the
readers of this Journal. In it he lays especial, and unwonted stress on
the tendency to polarity in the human mind. The book is extensively
illustrated by diagrams, which will doubtless be useful to the beginner.
E. J.
The Hysteria or Lady Macbeth. By Isador H. Coriat, M. D. (The
Four Seas Company, Boston. Second Edition, 1920. Pp. 95. Price
1.25 dollars.)
1
The first half of this little brochure consists of a brief account of psycho- |
454 BOOK REVIEWS
analysis and its applications in the field of literature, the second of a
psycho-analysis of the character of Lady Macbeth. The author is at
considerable pains to shew that the figure of Lady Macbeth represents
a type of hysteria, and that her somnambulic activities signified mental
dissociation, not sleep proper. Sadger's work on Somnambulism is not
mentioned. The diagnosis of Lady Macbeth's mental state culminates
in the conclusion that her sexual energies, thwarted by her barrenness,
were transformed into ambition, and that this came into conflict with
'repressed cowardice'. Cowardice, like any other form of fear, may be
inhibited, but it is not a primary content of the unconscious, so that
one can hardly speak of it as repressed in the psycho-analytic sense:
it is, of course, a reaction to some deeper content of the unconscious.
The whole study is very slight, but readably written. It is a pity that
the author was not able to refer to the profound analyses of the same
character published by Freud and Jekels.
E. J.
Die Diktatur der Liebe (The Dictatorship of Love). By Th. ZelL (HoflF-
mann & Campe, Hamburg-Berlin, 1919.)
This book really gives what its sub-title promises, 'New insight
into the sex life of human beings and animals '. The author has arrived
^ at some new and far-reaching ideas as the result of observations carried
out for many years. His explanations have not been biassed by any
prevailing theories, and he advances his views in opposition to those
found in the special literature on the subject which he has closely
studied. Many of his explanations of a teleological nature, for example
the reason he gives for the appearance of albinos, can only be proved
after further discussion and investigation. Most of his conclusions, how-
ever, are evident from the material he brings forward.
There is a great deal in this book of interest to us, especially the
insight into the mental life of animals that is obtained from an under-
standing of their sexual biology; and the fact that their habits of life
are conditioned by their sexual life much more than has hitherto been
supposed. His descriptions are tinged with humour, and the joy that
he takes in living nature is communicated to the reader. Sexuality is
described without prudery and quite openly. Many ideas are in accord
"With psycho-analytical views. For instance, Zell constantly emphasises
and makes use of the principle that the habits and mental life of dom-
estic animals can be correctly explained only if a study is made of
the conditions of life of these animals in their original and wild state,
or at least of a species closely related to them. Moreover, Zell explains
in an original manner peculiarities in human beings from comparison
BOOK REVIEWS 455
with the conditions of life and iiistincts of the human apes. In the same
way psycho-analysis shows that the psyche of civilised people is only
to be understood from a knowledge of primitive man; however, the
analogy is not complete, because the so-called primitive peoples are
relatively highly civilised.
It is remarkable how many false ideas are removed by the con-
sistent consideration of the organisation of the senses, by observing
whether the sense of smell predominates, whether the eyes are the
dominant sense organs, or whether they are night or day animals. The
sexual constitution is bound up with the constitution of the senses and
from this all the habits of love are explained. We learn from this com-
parative sexual biology that the erotogenic zones of the excretory
organs are very highly developed in all animals that have a keen sense
of smell. In animals who orient themselves and recognise friends and
foes by means of smell — in the second instance by hearing — and
only finally or not at all by sight, the love-play of their fore-pleasure
is carried out by nose and tongue as organs of choice and enjoyment;
and in them the genital and anal region and their excretions are
objects of fore-pleasure and individual choice. In animals in which the
sense of sight predominates, for instance, birds and beasts of prey, we
see nothing of this ; their fore-pleasure is obtained by sight and hearing.
In all animals with a predominant sense of smell the excretions of the
bladder and bowels fulfil a second and from a biological point of view
exceedingly important task; they serve as posts of love !to enable
rutting animals some distance from one another to scent and find one
another. The poUakiuria of dogs, for instance, serves this purpose,
though naturally it is superfluous in their domesticated state, and is
only explicable as a traditional post of love.
It is very probable that the human being, who is an animal in whom
the sense organ of sight predominates, has descended from animals
in which smell is the dominant sense. The sense of smell still plays a
great part in the sexual life of many apes. In human beings the sense
of smell as an organ of orientation has lost very much of its importance,
but it still plays a considerable role in love choice and fore-pleasure.
A perverse association of smell and sexuality, as far as it concerns
constitutional conditions, thus appears as an atavism that does not reach
back very far. Psycho-analytical experience directly shows this connect-
ion, for cunnilingus intensified to a perversion is very frequently found
in individuals with an atavistic development of the sense of smell. The
infant comes very near to the animal in its instincts, so that the fact
in comparative biology that the excretory organs in animals are of very
high sexual significance supports our view that the excretory organs
during the period of suckling in the infant act as sexual zones.
Zell discusses the favourite perfumes from the animal world which
456 BOOK REVIEWS
are used not only by women, but also by homosexual men. He has
taken up the subject of the 'Uberkreuzregel', first established by Jager,
and irrefutably proved it by"' means of new material. This peculiar term
denotes that sexual attraction takes place between different species and
particularly between animals and human beings. It is for this reason
that the domestic animal or the wild animal in captivity shows a marked
preference for its breeder, owner, tamer, or keeper of the opposite
sex. Apes only steal women as" sexual objects. As demonstrated by Zell
in a particularly convincing manner in the case of rational dairy-farm-
ing, the 'Schweizer', i.e. the men who milk the cows, owe their
remarkable success exclusively to their sex. Their sex so acts on the
cow that it gives proportionately more and better milk, for the final
yield of milk at the milking is the richest in fat. Both the secretion and the
passive excretion of milk are very dependent on pleasurable psycho-sexual
feelings in the cow being milked; the cow scents the man, being an animal
with the organ of smell specially pronounced. They do not ' withhold ' the
milk from the male milker. The animals are sensible of a pleasurable
stimulus during the process of milking. When these obvious arguments
are advanced it is comical with what certainty the opponents brmg
forward absurd explanations for the success of the male milkers. We
are reminded of the display of apparent reasons with which our oppo-
nents differently rationalise every sexual causation. Psycho-analytically
speaking the teats are therefore, according to Zell, erotogenic zones.
This entirely corresponds to the experience of laymen and the accounts
of normal women who are suckling a child. Candid wet-nurses admit
to experiencing this great sexual pleasure; other women react to the
question with an expression of modest indignation which betrays the
repression. The sexual character of the pleasure in suckling, as now
established by Zell from the observation of animals, is a good argument
for the psycho-analytical assumption that sexual pleasure also takes place
in the infant that is being suckled; the same feelings are to be assumed in
a biological process as regards the skin of the giver and receiver.
Opposition to the recognition of the sexual impulse in its strength
and psychical significance extends also to biology. Investigators prefer
to ignore even the sexuality of animals. Zell lays stress on the fact
that in the standard work by Alfred Brehm monkeys are described as
being very sexual. In the later edition the authors have omitted the
passages, not on the grounds of new observations, but on account oi
subjective antipathy; thus the monkeys are purged of the views of
Cuvier, Oken, Reichenbach and Alfred Brehm, who all agree as to their
excessive sexuality.
As this passage agrees with the assumption of the Darwinian primitive
horde, which Freud has taken up; but is not quoted in Darwin' and is
' Carus, translation, 1871.
BOOK REVIEWS 457
no longer to be found in the new Brehm, I will quote it literally
from Zell's book on account of its interest to psycho-analysts. 'The
strongest or oldest, therefore the most qualified male member of a herd,
eventually becomes the chief or leader of the monkeys. This position
is not assigned to him by universal suffrage, but only bestowed upon
him after very obstinate struggles and fights with other candidates, i. e.
with the rest of the old males. The longest teeth and the strongest
arms are the deciding factors. A monkey who is not willing to be sub-
ordinated is taught discipline by blows and bites until he becomes
reasonable. The crown descends in virtue of strength. His wisdom lies
in his teeth. The chief monkey demands and enjoys unconditional
obedience in every respect' He does not practise chivalrous courtesy
towards the weaker sex, he obtains in the fight the reward of love.
The jus primae noctis is still to-day in force for him. He is the tribal
father of a people, and his family, like that of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob, increase "as the sands of the sea". No female member of the
band may yield to a foolish love affair with a youngster. The chiefs
eyes are keen and his discipline strict; he has no fooling in love affairs.
The female monkeys who forget themselves, or rather him, get their
ears boxed and are roughly handled, so that their association with other
heroes of the band is certainly spoiled. The young male monkey who
violates the laws of the harem that are made by the sultan, who is
very proud of his right, fares very badly indeed. Jealousy makes the
young monkey formidable. It is foolish of a female monkey to conjure
up such jealousy, for the chief monkey is sufficient for all the female
monkeys of his herd. If the herd becomes too big then a portion separ-
ates itself from the chief band under the leadership of a brother, who
in the meantime has become sufficiently strong, and now begins on its
own account the struggle and fight for the leadership in the herd and
in love. Fighting always takes place where several strive for the same
goal. Certainly no day passes'among the" apes without strife and quarrel-
ling. A herd has only to be observed for a short time and we soon
become aware of the struggle in their midst and its true causes.' In the
fourth edition this excellent passage is very much abridged. It only says,
'Certainly no day passes among the apes without strife and quarrelling.'
The chimpanzee is the only exception to the general and excessive
sexuality of the anthropoids. The chimpanzee is very good-natured and
peaceable.
Among the other monkeys in captivity excessive onanism is the
rule. Zell says of this: 'Leopards and the worries of obtaining food
drive away thoughts of love from the mandrill living in the wild state
and under normal conditions.' Onanism is very frequent in all animals
in captivity and domestic animals, ' because we allow them to gratify their
sexual impulse only on very rare occasions'. Perversions and sexual
458 BOOK REVIEWS
intercourse with other species occur under the same conditions. 'I do
not believe that animals living in freedom practise onanism — nor
have I heard anything about it' — and inversion is not known in
animals in their free state. The too young female is in the position to
protect itself instinctively and successfully against the sexual attacks of
the males. All aberrations from the normal are limited to domesticated
states. Frogs are the only exception.
Zell discusses a question that is of interest to psycho-analysts.
Castration originates from Africa, and extends back beyond the primitive
period of mankind. Baboons bite off the sex organs of their adversaries,
including men. The natives of Africa have learned this custom from
the apes, and also a kind of dance, hair dressing, some kinds of food,
a definite tatooing, and the apes' greeting.
This greeting has been hitherto explained incorrectly as an ex-
pression of homosexual preparedness, as though the stronger monkey
were opposed to the smaller male monkey sexually, which certainly is
not the case. Zell's illuminating explanation is that this greeting like
all greetings in the animal world and between men signifies a state of
defencelessness, in that the animal feeling itself too weak for .the fight
takes up a position in which it cannot fight. This idea, as well as de-
fiance, is contained in the verbal derivative of the apes greeting among
human beings.
In conclusion I will quote a short example from this book, which,
though of no particular interest to psycho-analysts, shows in a typical
manner the clear train of thought of the author. 'Why do not horses
cry out? Only animals who assist each other cry out. For example,
cattle low. Wild and single-hoofed animals do not assist each other.'
This book belongs to the good type of new books which does not
humanize animals, but represents them in their natural condition, and
thus in the sense of Schopenhauer shows the unity of all animated
beings. One gains from it the conviction that the mind of animals, like
that of human beings, receives its characteristic nature and often its
individual fate through remote effects of the libido. In animals the libido
can be developed to individual love, and for this reason the title
Dictatorship of Love does not disparage this word.
Paul Federn.
Sanity in Sex. By William J. Fielding. (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner
& Co., Ltd. London, pp. 326. Price 10s. 6d. net.)
The Mystery of Existence and a Brief Study of the Sex Problem.
By C. W. Armstrong. (Grant Richards, Ltd. London, pp. 192, 6s. net.)
Sex Education and Maternal Health. By C. Gasquoine Hartley
(Leonard Parsons, Ltd., London, pp. 143, 6s. net.)
BOOK REVIEWS 459
These three books, thoug-h widely different in scope and treatment,
have in common their main theme — namely, that of sex and its develop-
ments, present or to come, in the individual and in society. It must be
admitted that this is a subject which needs thought and research from
any helpful quarter, but at the same time so complicated a problem is
it, demanding really efficient equipment on the part of those who
handle it, that the reader is at times tempted to wish that fewer people
would rush in to tackle it.
Moreover, the new light shed by the discoveries concerning the
\mconscious render many of the formerly accepted views, even of
' Reformers ', invalid, and it seems waste of time to offer us theories
which by now are only to be relegated to the scrap-heap.
Such reflections are called forth by two out of the above three
volumes, more especially by the largest of them.
Sanity and Sex. By William y. Fielding.
This fairly large work which is ushered in by a Preface characterized
by its large claims and curiously pompous air, although containing some
actual facts which are interesting and may prove useful (e. g. Ch. V, ' Sex
Hygiene in Industry ' ; Ch. VII, ' Other Phases of the Sex Hygiene Move-
ment'), is so full of misstatement, of half-knowledge and of an extra-
ordinary (and to the reviewer, at least, a very repellent) blend of would-
be 'science' and gushing ethics, that as a whole there is little to be
said in recommendation of the book.
Mr. Fielding evidently feels himself capable of dealing with the
most difficult and complicated problems of sex life in the individual
and in our modern society, and his method too often is to achieve
this by an artless elimination of the real factors. Such chapters as Ch. I,
' The Decadence of Fig-Leave Morality ', Ch. K, ' Sex Enlightenment and
Conjugal Happiness'; Ch. HI, 'Bringing Sex-Truths to the Soldier' are
astonishing in their naive outlook — ' schoolgirlish ' one is almost tempted
to describe it — and ignoring of innumerable essentials.
It is impossible to give evidence of this in the short space of a
review beyond quoting one or two instances which must suffice. In
Ch. Ill, (Bringing Sex-Truths to the Soldier) the author seems to imag-
ine that the men who made up the American army had no information,
knowledge or experience of their own before the advent of sex-lectures
arranged by the army-officials. He writes (p. 41) : ' It seems almost like
thinking of another age when we consider the practically unruffled field
of virgin ignorance of sex-truths which so generally prevailed in 1917
when the mobilization of the American war-machine began.' Really, one
was not aware that men, young, middle-aged or old, were such entirely
different creatures in 1917 from what they are now, and one wonders
whether W. Fielding has kept his eyes shut both before and after that
date. On pp. 47 and 48 we are told of the lectures given to the men,
450 BOOK REVIEWS
how the speakers emphasized the perils of promiscuous sexual relations,
'appealed to the human innate trait of altruism', 'impressed' the audience
with the need of living clean lives, showed the 'possible effects of
venereal diseases on innocent children', and so forth. As a result, accord-
ing to our author, the men learnt what they had never heard of before
in tlieir lives, were inspired then and there to quite new standards of
morality and life, and in general behaved very much as the hero of the
Sunday School Tract.
Indeed, in Ch. IV, p. 67, we are informed that 'Specially designed
art posters, bearing appealing messages, were used with splendid effect.
The most popular of these was one issued by the Y. M. C. A. with the
poem. "You— in her thoughts", by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, handsomely
illustrated. This poster with so vivid a reminder of mother-love and
home, and so forceful an entreaty for clean living and the children
unborn, gripped the men as possibly few other appeals could.' (Italics
are the Reviewer's.)
It is difficult to believe that in this same book we have a chapter
(Ch. XII) devoted to 'Psycho- Analysis— the Searchlight on the Sub-
consciousness of Sex' in which the author sets out a brief resume of
some of the leading ideas in the Freudian theory. It must remain one
of the insoluble mysteries that a writer can really (as he claims) under-
stand Freud's theories and then proceed to write a book in which
almost every chapter flies in the face of everything which those theories
have established!
The Mystery of Existence and A Brief Study of the Sex Problem.
By C. W. Armstrong.
The second book of the trilogy, as the title makes clear, has a wide
scope, probably far too wide for the small compass of this volume. The
chapter-headings will indicate the material dealt with : e. g., ' The World-
Spirit' (Ch. n), 'The Subliminal Self (Ch. IV), 'Free Will' (Ch. VI),
, Man's Destiny' (Ch. K), 'Immortality' (Ch. X), 'Love' (Ch. VHI).
A great deal of reference is made to theories, philosophies, thinkers,
in passing, but too little space perforce is devoted to any one to make
this of value. One is left with vague ideas and generalizations only.
The second part, devoted to 'The Sex Problem" is more specific
and thereby more satisfactory in treatment. It contains some useful facts
in reference to Venereal Disease and a plea for more openness and
honesty in regard to such matters as prostitution, so-called 'Unnatural
Vice' and so forth. But here again, as in the volume previously reviewed,
there is so much windy and unbased theorizing that the value of the
other is largely vitiated. The author has a way of writing like this:
.Children were meant by God to play together in innocence ..." (p. 184) ;
,What is the new morality that shall... lead us on to earthly bliss?'
(p. 197) (the obvious reply being 'there's no sich'); 'Had we ideal
BOOK REVIEWS 461
marriage laws, prostitution would either cease to exist or shrink
to unsignificant proportions' (p. 167) — remarks which do not tend
to produce either respect or conviction in the reader.
A very odd theory is formulated in this section on 'The Sex Pro-
blem' — namely, that for Britain the sex problem is so particularly
urgent since it is her business to maintain her Empire and 'The British
Empire can never really go under as long as it possesses larger and fitter
populations than any other countries' (p. 165), and hence we must
desire to see unfit citizens in other nations. 'The only approach to a
real guarantee we have of peace in the -future lies in the number of
physically defective children now born in Germany.' (Italics are the
Reviewer's.)
An interesting doctrine, but perhaps a trifle difficult to fit in with
the uplifting views expressed at length in Section I !
Sex Education and Maternal Health. By C. Gasquoine Hartley.
, It is a relief to turn to the smallest book of the three on the subject
of sex, with its honest attempt to find out and think out some at least
of the urgent problems involved. Mrs. Hartley has sense, sympathy and
a good deal of excellent knowledge in certain directions connected
with sex and its manifestations, which things give her an equipment for
her subject. She does not attempt large generalizations nor (as a rule)
hasty half-statements. She does try to look into and around the questions
she attempts to deal with, and one is impressed by her sincerity in
the sense of her real endeavour to see what is to be seen — a quality
so conspicuously lacking in many writers on the matter. One of the
best chapters is the one on 'Sexual Education' (Ch. H), especially
pp. 34-7 and p. 44 (on the futility of a boundless belief in outside
'instruction' to the child); another which has many wise and helpful
things in it is Ch. IV, 'Adolescence with special reference to the
Adolescent Girl', and Ch. VII, 'Concluding Remarks' contains much
enlightened good sense. The author has obviously applied some of
Freud's teaching to the question of sex-education, with very desirable
results, and one feels that when she has investigated and experienced
more on psycho-analytical lines, some of the defects of her present
work will be removed. She is inclined to underestimate the profound
difficulties to be met with in the matter of sex-education and to ignore
the actual facts in psychic development. Here is an example: (Ch. II,
p. 33) 'The right opportunity for sexual instruction is when the child
seeks for knowledge and the right knowledge is what the child wants
to know.' Unfortunately, things are not so simple: Too often the child
'wants to know', but that 'want' is inhibited from conscious expression,
or appears shameful to himself, and therefore is suppressed, through
the fantasies already built up, and the parent must find some way ot
giving the knowledge which may never be sought openly, yet the ab-
462 BOOK REVIEWS
sence of which is causing- suffering and distortion oi ideas. If the child
could ask every time he desired, the process of education would indeed
be made easier! In the same chapter (p. 45), still deahng with the
question of giving information, she writes : ' It goes without saying that
the mother must answer the child's question as if ■ she were talking
about any other part of the body, explaining the difference between
a crab and a lobster.' An astonishing lack of understanding is revealed
here! What is the use of the mother behaving 'as if she were doing
one thing when she is doing another ? This can effect nothing but
distrust and hypocrisy in the whole affair. The sex-organs are not 'any
other part of the body' (nor, in fact, are any parts of the body as 'any
other part'): the human being is not 'a crab or a lobster', and the
effect of this kind of attitude— an attitude which itself denotes fear
and repression — is to create further repressions — in the child.
In her advocacy of nakedness — the ideal, she says, is for boys
and girls to bathe together naked quite openly, and for the young to
see their elders naked — she again seems ignorant of some important
considerations, and overlooks the question of premature sexual excitation :
probably this is due to some vague idea that nakedness is 'natural',
that what is 'natural' is right and desirable, or that what primitive
people can do with advantage, so can the civilized man, if only he
would begin to try — a doctrine responsible for ail sorts of error!
However, in spite of certain defects, in spite of the fact that one finds
oneself often in disagreement with her conclusions, Mrs. Hartley must
be thanked for a contribution which is very much worth having, one
of the very few books on 'sex-education' which one cares to study and
to recommend. Barbara Low.
PsYCHOLOGiE EE l'Enfant. By Dr. Ed. Claparfcde, Professor at the
University of Geneva. (Kiindig, Geneva, 1920, Pp. 571.)
This well-known book has now reached its eighth edition in the
original, the only English translation being from the fourth. It is gener-
ally recognised to be a standard work, one of the very best books
that have ever been written on the subject of child psychology.
In the new edition we note that much more space has been devot-
ed to psycho-analytical doctrines than in the earlier ones. The author,
though long interested in psycho-analysis, has generally adopted a non-
committal attitude towards it. In the course of time this has gradually
become more and more favourable. Throughout the book — and of how
many other psychological text-books could this be said? — are scattered
references to psycho-analytical work, which is taken extensively into
account in regard to such topics as memory, conflict, sublimation, and
so on. The author protests against the objections that have been made
BOOK REVIEWS 463
to the application of psycho-analysis in childhood and says: 'la m^thode
s'est montr^e suffisamment feconde pour qu'elle ne soit pas condamn^e
pour cette seule raison qu'elle est delicate a manier, et que tel ou tel
op^rateur a pu faillir k sa tache' (p. 249).
Nevertheless it is plain that the author has more to learn concerning,
the theory of psycho-analysis and we hope that the following- mistakes
will be corrected in the next edition. On p. 647 we read: 'Pour Freud
revolution des intdrets se ramfene en somme k revolution d'un instinct
primordial, qui apparatt le premier, et qui est la source de toute acti-
vite psychique, I'instinct sexuel'. It is becoming very tiresome to correct
this gross misapprehension time after time, but one must ask such
writers how they suppose Freud comes to build his whole psychology
on the conception of conflict if he thinks there is no other instinct than
the sexual one with which this can enter into conflict. Again (p. 548)
it is stated that Freud gives such a wide meaning to the word Libido
that it becomes equivalent to the term interest, this distortion of the
word being just what psycho-analysts, on the contrary, have reproached
Jung with committing; and sure enough, as a proof of this statement
relating to Freud, we find a footnote giving a reference to Jung's writ-
ings! Although there is still confusion in other countries concerning
the difference between the views of Freud and Jung one is astonished
to find it persisting in Switzerland.
E. J.
■5f
The Psychology of Industry. By James Drever, M. A., B.Sc, D.Phil,
(Methuen and Co., London, 1921. Pp. vii + 141. Price 5s.)
'This little book is intended not so much for the student of psycho-
logy as for the ordinary man' and we might add is written from the
standpoint of the experimental psychologist. Three aspects of the pro-
blem are outlined; the first concerns the worker (his character, intelli-
gence, vocational fitness, etc.), the second the work (fatigue and output
in relation to rest periods, ventilation, lighting, economy of movement),
the third concerns the market (supply and demand from the psycho-
logical standpoint). The second aspect is dealt with at some length and
repays careful reading.
The industrial psychologist may approach his problem in two ways ;
he may start from the details of the work to be done: for example
from the question, 'How quickly, how accurately can this person tap
keys?' he formulates tests and from their results can hazard a guess
whether a girl will be a good typist. Or he may approach the problem
from the other end and start, not from the details of the work, but
from the energy sources of the worker's life, from the libido, and then
try to place the worker in such a position that his libido may be
464 BOOK REVIEWS
satisfied; the interests ot the libido and of the community meeting on
the common ground of a sublimation-activity. The former is the ex-
perimental psychologist's method, the latter a derivative of psycho-analytic
research. The inadequacy of the former method alone except as a guide
to the final sorting and grading of workers is obvious.
Psycho-analysis proper frequently includes studies of work-efficiency.
Repressed homosexuality is often a cause of difficulties between mistress
and maid. Narcissism causes workmen to dread efficiency tests as it
does schoolboys to funk their examinations. Anal erotism and the anal
character often play a determining part both in the choice of work and
emotional attitude to it.
The ubiquitous (Edipus complex is an almost constant factor. There
are people who make a profession of psycho-analytical knowledge and
who on the basis of that knowledge and of experimental psychology
advise their clients what work will satisfy libido and also earn a good
salary. Such efforts one watches with interest and trepidation, but at
least they possess one merit in that they approach the relation of worker
to work from both aspects. Accredited psycho-analysts do not employ
their time in advising their patients what work to pursue, for the reason
that a sublimation-activity is no more amenable to advice than a neur-
osis.
If a book called the Psychology of Love dealt with topics no more
fundamental than early-closing day, the shading of lights and 'tests for
the memory of faces', the ordinary man would feel that while valuable
points had been touched on sufficient stress had not been laid on the
dynamic power of love, and that justice had not been done to our
present knowledge of the subject. It is a pity that the author of 'The
Psychology of Everyday Life ' and ' Instinct in Man ' has been so depart-
mental in a book he entitles 'The Psychology of Industry'.
John Rickman.
Traite de Pathologie Medicale et de Therapeutique appliquee.
(Maloine et Fils, Paris)
Dans'le Traite de Pathologie Medicale et de Therapeutique appliquee
deux volumes seront consacres k la Psychiatric.
Le premier volume, qui vient de parattre, contient les articles sui-
vants:
Ritti (Dr. Antoine), Semeiologie generale. — Juquelier (Dr.), Manie
aigue. Psychasthenic. — Durand (Dr.), Melancolie et Psychoses periodi-
ques. — Mignard (Dr.), Etats confusionels, Psychologic des delires. Con-
fusion mentale aigue. — Serieux et Capgras (Drs.), Delires systematis^s.
— Logre, Etat mental des hysteriques. — Brissot (Dr.), Etat mental des
epileptiques. — Mallet (Dr.), Psychoses de guerre.
BOOK REVIEWS 465
Ce premier volume sug-gere dejk de nombreuses remarques, aussi
ai-je voulu en rendre compte, sans attendre la publication du second.
Ce livre possede toutes las grandes qualites at les grands defauts
des ouvrages franijais. Cast dire que les descriptions cliniques des
differentas maladies qu'il traite, sont excellentes; on ne peut qu'admirer
avec quel soin chaque sympt6me est ^tudie. Mais d'autre part on est
oblige de regretter que les psychiatres frangais, au point de vue etio-
logique, en soient toujours restes k la theorie de la d^g^n^rescence
vieille de plus de 50 ans. Cette perseveration provient probablement
du fait que les Francjais se tiennent si pen au courant de la litterature
^trangfere. On s'^tonne en effet de ne trouver aucune mention des
ouvrages de Freud dans les articles de Ritti, de Juquelier, de Capgras,
de S^rieux, de Brissot et de Mallet. Le sujet qu'ils traitent est cepen-
dant en rapport direct avec les travaux des psychoanalystes.
Logre, dans son article sur 'L'etat mental des hyst^riques ', rend
compte de la psychoanalyse, d'apres I'ouvrage de Regis et Hesnard,
mais il semble ne pas la connattre de premifere main, et surtout ne
I'avoir jamais pratiqude. La citation ci-dessous le montre clairement
(p. 356):
'Appliquer la psycho-analyse, c'est-k-dire faire appel aux souvenirs
anciens, en partie oubli6s et ddformes; laisser aller la fantaisie du ma-
lade k I'aventure, sous pretexte d'etudier les associations spontan^es, ou
mettre en jeu sa suggestibility, sous pretexte de diriger les associations
provoqu^es; s'en rapporter au rdcit des reves, dont I'anamnfese et le
commeritaire sont toujours si delicats, si incertains et si fuyants; inter-
preter enfin des etats d'automatisme subconscient et de distraction,
n'est-ce pas accumuler, comme k plaisir, toutes les chances d'infid^lit^
du temoignage ? N'est-ce pas precis6ment convertir en moyens d'investi-
gation scientifique les causes d'erreur les plus habituelles de I'inter-
rogatoire mMical: amnesia et Tabulation, suggestibility, reve et reverie,
subconscience et distraction ? '
Par ailleurs, Logres reconnait cependant le bien-fonde de certaines
ois psychologiques, mises en lumiere par la psycho-analyse. Voici, par
exemple, ce qu'il dit du refoulement (p. 359) :
'II est etrange, en verity, que I'ecole de Freud ait pu regarder
I'hyst^rie comme la consequence exclusive d'un refoulement sexuel. S'il
est, en effet, toute une serie de faits dans lesquels le proc'^dd du re-
fotdement se manifeste avec quelque evidence clinique, c'est bien dans
I'hystero-traumatisme de guerre. Ce bras paralyse qui ne veut pas
gu6rir, c'est, au fond, I'expression indirecte et inconsciente d'une d^-
faillance du courage. Mais ce refoulement n'appartient, — comme de
juste, — en aucune manifere, a la psychopathologie de I'instinct de re-
production. II met seulement en jeu ces deux tendances primordiales de
I'instinct de conservation: I' amour de l' argent et la peur de la mort.'
31*
466 BOOK REVIEWS
Mignard, dans son article sur *La psychologic des d^lires' semble
avoir une comprehension meilleure et plus impartiale de la psycho-
analyse. Voici une citation un peu longue, mais qui resume bien ses
id6es sur les diverses psychoth^rapies modernes (p. 230).
'Nous ne ferons qu'une brfeve allusion aux precedes que I'insuccfes
a condamnn^s. Disons, en un mot, qu'il ne sert k rien, ou h peu prfes
h. rien, d'essayer d'intimider le delirant ou de le convaincre par des
raisons purement logiques. Par la premifere methode on a pu obtenir
d'apparantes concessions, cachant la persistance des erreurs; par la
seconde, de momentanes avantages, bientot masquds par un nouvel
^panouissement de la vegetation psycho-pathologique.
'Quelques annees avant la guerre, I'^cole de Freud avait propose
un systfeme th^rapeutique par lequel furent obtenus certains r^sultats.
La psychoanalyse' consistait h rechercher rorigine de I'idee dehrante
dans une preoccupation ancienne refoulee hors de la claire conscience.
Une observation poussee servait de traitement. Les disciples de Freud
trouvaient par une curieuse methode d'investigation, la racine du delire
dans quelque souvenir devenu m^connaissable k la suite du "refoule-
ment". Le "complexe" que la "Censure" avait exclu r^apparaissait sous
des formes nouvelles. Montrer au malade, en la decouvrant, la veritable
identite de son trouble, c'^tait en meme temps le reduire. Quelques
succfes furent obtenus. lis restferent limites. C'est que le principe de
I'investigation etait lui-meme bien special. Pour Freud, en effet, et pour
ses disciples, tous les "complexes" refoul^s sont de nature sexuelle.
Leurs doctrines prdcongues admettent I'origine g6nitale des formes
superieures de la pens6e. Les relations sociales en proscriraient la re-
connaissance ouverte. La conscience personelle, complice des refoule-
ments, n'admettrait la reminiscence des "traumas sexuels" qu'aprfes
complete metamorphose. On imagine sans peine les etranges developpe-
ments qu'une doctrine aussi partielle et aussi partiale a pu susciter dans
certains esprits. Tel ^leve de Freud, interpretant les songes par la sym-
bolique ^rotique, charge d'impudiques significations les plus modestes
images. Ces exagerations et cette erreur fondamentale ne doivent pas
faire oublier la part de v6rM qui existe dans la psychoanalyse. EUe
6tait, k vrai dire, connue avant le d^veloppement de ce systeme ex-
cessif. Janet, avant Freud, avait montr^ dans certaines id^es d^lirantes
I'expression d'une obsession dissimulee, dont la nature n'est pas for-
c^ment sexuelle, mais qui se rattache toujours a quelque donnee affective.
'Un premier temps du traitement psychoth^rapique consiste done
souvent en effet dans une observation soigneuse et approfondie, par
' L'on n'envisage ici que rapplication de la psychoanalyse aux iddes d6-
lirantes. Le systfeme de Freud s'adressait surtout, dans le ddbut, aux psycho-
n^vj-oses. Plus tard il s'<itendit aux psychoses, et trouva, par ailleurs, de
nombreuses adaptations.
BOOK REVIEWS 467
laquelle on essaiera d& degager les racines cach^es de I'id^e d^lirante.
Puis, les montrant au sujet, on tentera de lui faire comprendre la genfese
de son erreur. Les arguments logiques et experimentaux que Ton pent
opposer k la conviction erronee ne seront pas negliges. Nous avons
parle de leur impuissance ordinaire lorsqu'on les utilise seuls; ils n'en
constituent pas moins un excellent moyen d'accoutumer le sujet k
discuter avec son delire, et les resultats obtenus peuvent etre consolid^s
si Ton a soin d'attaquer, en meme temps que la construction intellec-
tuelle, la base affective qui la soutient.'
Si Mignard montre ici qu'il n'est pas entiferement d'accord avec les
theories sexuelles de Freud, on voit cependant qu'll a su reconnaltre
de grandes qualites a la methode psychoanalytique.
Raymond de Saussxjre.
ExAMEN DES Alienes- Par Andre Bart6. (Masson et Cie. editeurs,
177 pages.)
Ce livre consacre quelques pages a la psychoanalyse; mais I'auteur
ne connait cette methode qu'k travers les livres et articles frangais et
le livre du regrette professeur Putnam. Son expos^ des theories de
Freud ne contient done aucun jugement personnel, et, de plus, contient k
un errand nombre d'erreurs.
Raymond de Saussure.
Manual of Psychiatry. Edited by Aaron J. Rosanoff, M.D. (Fifth
Edition, Revised and Enlarged, 1920. Chapman & Hall. Pp. 640. Price 22s.)
The fact that this well known American Manual has reached its fifth
edition in fifteen years is sufficient evidence that it serves its purpose
as a text-book. ^
Before the war it was merely a translation of Rogues de Fursac s
work, but Dr. Rosanoff has now taken over most of the American
edition and modified it according to his own views.
We have always regarded this book as remarkably unequal and the
present edition has not modified our opinion. For the most part Krae-
pelin's classification is adopted and the various forms of mental disorder
are described, sometimes in full (Manic-Depressive psychoses, Dementia
Praecox, General Paralysis) and sometimes much too briefly (Neur-
asthenia, Paranoia, Infection and Exhaustion psychoses). Uraemic delirium
has a chapter all to itself while myxoedema is dismissed in less than
three pages.
There is a chapter on psycho-analysis which is quite good, ipso
46S BOOK REVIEWS
facto, because it consists mainly of quotations from psycho-analytical
books, especially from translations of Freud's works; but there is not
one word about the value of psycho-analysis in the treatment of mental
illness. Indeed this chapter does not fit the book at all.
There is a section on the Sexual Psychopathies, i. e. perversions,
but there is no mention of their repression. Hysteria is regarded as a
special form of malingering, closely allied to criminality, and the
account of Neurasthenia (fortunately only a page and a half) is all
wrong in spite of the fact that the author quotes an accurate definition
and explanation in Appendix VIII, which is the ' Classification of Mental
Diseases adopted by the Medico-Psychological Association, May. 30,
1917, and by the New York State Hospital Commission, July 1, 1917'
with officially issued explanatory notes and definitions. In this official
document, the Anxiety Neurosis receives full recognition, but such an
important malady is not even mentioned in the body of the book. In
the brief account of Paranoia there is no allusion to the homosexual
basis of this psychosis or even to the underlying mechanism of projec-
tion. In the chapter on epilepsy there is no reference to the work of
Ferenczi, Pierce Clark and others who have demonstrated by psycho-
analysis that epilepsy is fundamentally a psychosis. Such criticism might
be multiplied ; but enough has been said to show that the chapter on
psycho-analysis, good as it is, is out of place in Dr. Rosanoffs book.
Psycho-analysis is evidently a thing apart.
Among the appendices seventy-four pages are devoted to word-
association tests and tables of word-reactions, incorrectly called the
'Free Association Test'. Those word-reactions which comply with
certam arbitrary rules are regarded as normal, others as abnormal.
According to these rules a person who reacted to the word ' dark ' with
■fearsome* or to the word 'table' with 'Mabel' would be abnormal; but,
in any case, we fail to see what on earth can be the use of these
tables of word reactions in the diagnosis or treatment of mental disorder.
Jung used word association to determine certain types of reaction, but
to use the method as an end in itself is futile. Quite commonly a word
reaction may revive a preconscious memory, but occasions must be
extremely rare where a stimulus word happens as a stray shot to pene-
trate the unconscious; and even then, it is uncertain that the revived
memory would have bearing on the malady from which the patient is
suffering.
The index of Authors, whose views — by the way — are not always
correctly interpreted, fills five pages while the index of subjects occu-
pies no less than forty-seven pages, from which it would appear that
mdexmg can be overdone. Some items, such as age, -delusions,
dementia praecox, depression, excitement, hallucinations, recovery and
treatment have forty, fifty or even more than sixty references. An index
BOOK REVIEWS ' 469
of this kind is a nuisance to anybody who wishes to look up some
point.
We know of no book which reminds us so strongly of the story
of the curate's egg. It is excellent in parts.
W. H. B. Stoddart.
Foundations of Psychiatry. By William A. White, M.D. (Nervous
and Mental Disease Publishing Company, New York and Washington.
1921. Pp. 136. Price 3 dollars.)
This is another of the very readable books with which Dr. White
provides us. Its aim seems to be not so much a technical study of the
individual insanities, a subject with which Dr. White has dealt in his
well-known 'Outlines of Psychiatry," as an attempt to broaden the
conception of Psychiatry by showing its relation to other branches of
medicine and psychology on the one hand, and to sociology and cognate
sciences on the other. In this aim it admirably succeeds. It is an excellent
and broad presentation of the implications of psychiatric study, approaching
it from many aspects besides the technical one of psychiatry proper,
such as those of zoology, pre-historic history of man, child development,
endocrinology etc.
It is not very clear, however, precisely what audience Dr. White
has in mind in writing the book, for to appreciate or even to under-
stand the range of topics with which it deals needs a reader well-nigh
as widely educated as the author himself. How many non-medical
readers, for instance, would find such passages as the following easy
reading? 'The voluntary type of muscle consists of two parts, sarco-
plasmatic substance which is innervated by the autonomic system and,
imbedded within this substance, the anisotropic disc system which is
innervated by the projicient nervous apparatus,' or 'The affects are the
psychological reverberations of the autonomicaily conditioned visceral
and postural tonicities which thus become the physiological aspects of
the emotions.' It would seem possible to have dealt even with such
matters in a somewhat less technical manner.
Dr. White finds that the isolation of psycho-analysts in different
countries during the war has led to the development of certain national
characteristics. He speaks of the American School of Psychopathology
and enumerates ten features characteristic of this school. It strikes us
that most of these features are either not peculiar to America, or else
are expressed in such a general way as to leave their precise meaning not
obvious. They are as follows: (1) The unity of the organism as an
energy system; (2) human behavior as a special problem of energy
transformation and discharge; (3) structural organization as an instance
470 BOOK REVIEWS
of the phyletic synthesis of experience, with the nervous system as
the chief agent in this organization; (4) the principle of action patterns
of discharge as integral parts of the structural organization; (5) the
conception that the symbol is a source and a carrier of energy; (6) the
abolition ot the metaphysical distinction between mind and body ; (7) the
conception of the unconscious as a container of the phyletic history of
the organization of the psyche in action pattern symbolization ; (8) the
importance of archaic symbols and their relationship to somatic as well
as mental diseases; (9) the belief that organic disorders have their
psychologic as well as their somatic symptomatology; (10) the belief
that standards of conduct are an integral part of the action pattern
symbolizations and therefore must be included in the understanding and
management of all medical and social problems.
Dr. White has incidentally succeeded in making much more intel-
ligible the tendencies of Kempfs recent work than can easily be
gleaned from the writings of that author, which were reviewed in the
last number of this Journal,' and we recommend those desirous
of informing themselves on this work to refer rather to Dr. White's
presentation.
Sublimation is defined (p. 126) as ' the name given to the results of
continuous successful solutions of conflicts along the lines of the most
effective unfolding of the personality.' If Dr. White wishes to give the
term this new, and as it seems to us quite unwarranted, sense, we
think it only right that he should also quote the sense in which it was
used by Freud when he first employed and defined the term. Not to
do so is not only unfair, but also adds to the steadily increasing confusion
due to the loose and irregular use of technical psycho-analytical terms.
Ferenczi, Groddeck and other workers in Europe will be interested
to know that Dr. White also makes a strong plea (pp. 104-6) for a
psychogenic view of many organic disorders, including the myopathies,
pylorospasm, which may lead to organic changes such as gastric or
duodenal ulcer,' 'diabetes mellitus, particularly the adrenalinogenic
type' etc.
To the young practitioner of psychiatry the volume will prove of
the greatest value, and many other readers such as physiologists, psycho-
logists and sociologists, will also find it useful.
E.J.
*
FfixEs ET CHANSONS DE L'ANCIENNE CHINE. Par Granct. (Paris, Leroux,
1920.)
Ce livre ^crit par un disciple de Durkheim ne fait pas allusion
aux theories de Freud mais il presente cependant un grand interet
' p. 237.
BOOK REVIEWS 471
pour les psychoanalystes. Les Chinois, en effet, se sont toujours servis
de symboles. Les commentateurs de leurs vieux livres sacres ont donn6
des interpretations multiples au travers des siecles des differentes
chansons et legendes sacr^es. II n'est pas jusqu'aux caracteres de leur
ecriture qui soient surdetermines, tant ces caractferes ont eu de signifi-
cations successives. C'est pourquoi le folk-lore chinois prdsente un int^ret
si particulier pour les psychoanalystes.
On pourrait consid6rer au moins deux phases dans la symbolisation
des chansons chinoises. Une premifere, dans laquelle les symboles re-
presentent certains desirs, ou certains complexes de leurs auteurs. Puis
une deuxieme phase, ou phase de rationalisation, dans laquelle les
commentateurs essaient de tirer une doctrine morale de ces symboles.
L'ouvrag'e de M. Granet fait bien ressortir ces deux etapes a propos
des chansons et des fetes de I'ancienne Chine. M. G. fait remarquer
que si ces poesies avaient ^te Rentes directement dans le but de mo-
raliser, elles auraient ^t^ composees par des lettres. Or, tout tend k
prouver qu'il s'agit de chansons populaires et non de chansons d'erudits.
Elles ont toutes, en effet, un caractere d'impersonnalite. II n'y a point
de heros dans ces chansons d'amour. Quant aux images po^tiques elles
sont toujours de nature rustique. Au point de vue de la forme, les vers
sont ecrits avec symetrie, et souvent en manifere d'interrog'ations et de
reponses. M. G. croit pouvoir en conclure que ces chansons ont ete
composees pour les danses des ffetes champetres.
Le rythme de ces vers, et les modifications legferes que Ton trouve
d'un auteur h. I'autre, tendraient meme a prouver qu'ils ont ete crees
spontanement au cours des danses paysannes. Pendant longtemps on n'a
voulu voir dans les fetes champetres qu'une glorification du printemps et de
Tautomne, mais M. G. s'est attach^ k retrouver la vraie signification
de ces ceremonies. II a recherche notamment quel pouvait etre le sens
des joutes, ce rite que Ton retrouve dans toutes les fetes chinoises.
'Avant que dans la vie domestique', dit-il, 'nes'exalt&t le parti-
cularisme familial, une fete automnale consolidait I'unit^ des commu-
nautes locales; de meme avant que la vie corporative ne vint rendre
plus aigue I'opposition entre hommes et femmes, ime fMe prin-
tannifere, avec sa joute, ne voulait-elle pas rapprocher les sexes par
d'universelles accordailles ^ La joute chantee refait d'une double manifere
I'unit^ sociale, dont elle exprime aussi la complexity: elle rapproche
les jeunes gens de villages differents, de sexes diff^rents, elle attenue
I'antagonisme des groupes secondaires, elle attenue celui des corpora-
tions sexuelles. L' opposition des groupes locaux est, comme I'opposition
des sexes, h la base de I'organisation chinoise ; mais tandis que la pre-
mifere ne repose que sur une distribution g^ographique, I'autre s'appuie
^ une division technique du travail; elle est la plus irreductible des
deux. Si la division du groupe social en deux corporations sexuelles
472
BOOK REVIEWS
est primordiale en effet, une fgte qui opposait et rapprochait ces deux
moiti^s de la societe en retablirait I'unite premiere: dfes lors I'union
sexuelle devait sembler le principe de toute alliance C'est pour-
quoi la joute amoureuse par laquelle se concluaient tous les mariages
de I'annee, avait droit k la premiere place dans les fStes saisonniferes
de la Concorde paysanne, et tout particulierement dans la grande
f^te du printemps. Par le fait meme que I'union sexuelle ^tait, primitive-
ment et par essence, un principe de cohesion sociale, elle ne pouvait
manquer d'etre r^glementee.
'Lesobligationssymdtriquesd'endogamief^deraleetd'exogamiefamiliale
n'etaient apparemment que les. premieres : les plus generales et les plus sim-
ples de rfegles auxquelles devait obeir toute alliance matrimoniale ; ces
regies devinrent sans doute plus minucieuses, quand la structure sociale se
compliqua. Je vois une preuve de cette stricte r^glementation dans le
fait que I'amour resta dtranger aux fantaisies du desir ef au caprice de
la passion. Et, en effet, dans les chansons improvisees, il garde toujours
un air d'impersonnalite ; il ne s'exprime pas selon le libre jeu d'une
inspiration originale, mais par des formules ou des dictons, mieux faits
pour traduire les sentiments usuels d'une collectivite, que les Amotions
singuliferes des individus. Lorsqu'au cours des joutes, dans I'ardeur du
concours les protagonistes s'avan^aient, qui se d^fiaient I'un I'autre et
face h. face improvisaient, leur invention n'avait pas sa source dans le
fonds particulier de leur kme, le mouvement propre de leur coeur, la
fantaisie de leur genie, elle se faisait au contraire sur le patron de
thfemes traditionels, selon un rythme de danse par tons suivi, sous I'im-
pression enfin d'emotions collectives. Et c'^tait par proverbes qu'ils se
ddclaraient leur amour naissant. Mais si cette declaration d'amour pouvait
ainsi recevoir une expression proverbiale, c'est que le sentiment lui-meme
ne r^sultait pas d'un attrait particulier senti, d'une Election du coeur, d'un
choix, s'il en avait ^16 autrement, si les protagonistes avaient 6t6,pouss^s
I'un vers I'autre par une vocation spontanee, il ne se pourrait pas, que
jamais jls n'aient fait entendre un accent personel; ils ne se seraient pas
toujours adressds k un etre vague, anonyme, inddfini; les couplets nou-
veaux se seraient ordinairement signales par d'autres trouvailles que celle
d'auxiliaires descriptifs; les variantes t^moigneraient de quelque originalite;
— or, bien au contraire, la plus uniforme monotonie caracterise I'inven-
tion des chansons d'amour. C'est que mfeme dans les duels oh ils
s'affrontaient, individu k individu, les gargons et les filles restaient avant
tout les repi^sentants de leur sexe et les d^l^gues de leur groupe
familial : C'est que m^me alors, ils ne suivaient pas leur fantaisie, mais
ob^issaient a un devoir .... Aux temps classiques, les fiangailles se
firent sans aucune liberty de choix, et par I'autorite d'un entremetteur;
un tel usage aurait-il pu s'^tablir si, au cours des joutes, les 6poux
s'^taient choisis librement? Et n'est-ce pas significative la tradition qui
BOOK REVIEWS , 473
fait pr^sider les f^tes sexuelles du printemps par tin fonctionnaire
nomm6 prdcis^ment Tentremetteur ? apparamment les joutes loin d'etre
propices aux caprices individuels et la licence, mettent seulement
en rapport des jeunes gens deja destines Fun k I'autre et qui avaient
k s'aimer.' (page 214 et suivantes.)
Cette citation montre bien k quelle curieuse conception de I'amour,
a amen^ le traditionalisme chinois. On trouvera dans le livre de M. G.,
bien d'autres renseignements interessants, se rapportant aux relations
sexuelles des Chinois (p. 250).
' L' opposition des sexes demeura une des regies cardinales de la
society. L'activit6 masculine, particulierement dans I'entourage des
seigneurs, ne perdit rien de sa noblesse, bien au contraire ; mais tandis
que les hommes 6taient frequemment appeles aux reunions de cour,
les femmes s'en trouvaient normalement exclues; elles vivaient dans la
retraite des gyn^c^es, constamment occupies a des besognes quoti-
diennes, tenues k I'ecart des solennit^s de la vie publique. L' opposition
qui restait grande, entre les sexes, sembia d6termin6e par une diffe-
rence de valeur entre Thomme et la femme; le contact sexuel, qui in-
spira toujours plus de crainte, fut redoute, parceque rhomme parut, en
s'approchant de la femme, compromettre son caractfere auguste. Dfes
que la femme fut retranch^e de \a vie publique, on imagina qu'elle
etait trop impure pour avoir le droit d'y participer; la reclusion oil
elle vivait paraissait imposde par cette impurete, et devint de plus en
plus stricte; les pratiques qui accompagnaient I'union sexuelle furent
consid^rees comme autant de remedes destines k combattre une in-
fluence n^faste emanant de la femme.'
Le livre de M. G. se termine par un appendice, oil I'on trouvera
des descriptions d'explorateurs contemporains, concernant les rites des
fetes chinoises modernes.
Raymond de Saussuee.
Spiritualism among Civilised and Savage Races. By Edward Law-
rence, F.R.A.I. (A. &C. Black, Ltd., London, 192L Pp. 112, Price 5s.)
This is a book that is not likely to convert anyone to the author's
way of thinking, if he does not already share it He is as uncompro-
mising an opponent of spiritism as Edward Clodd, Stanley Hall and
Mercier, though without the fierceness of the last named. There is
little in the book of the impartiality evinced by another adverse critic,
Ivor Tuckett, in his ' Evidence of the Supernatural '.
The author's thesis is the thorough-going identity of the beliefs held
by modern-day spiritists, and most of their technique, with those ob-
taining among practically all primitive races. The facts are certainly
indubitable and the author marshalls them with considerable skill. The
474
BOOK REVIEWS
interpretation ot them, however, is perhaps not so obvious as it appears
to him. With an anthropologist, as with a biologist, the consideration
in question will carry very great weight, justly so, and the tendency
will be almost irresistible to regard the present-day beliefs as nothing
more than lingering relics of aA ignorant and superstitious past. In fact
the author defines spiritism, not very gracefully, as 'nothing but the
fag-end of an old superstition— a superstition which obsesses the
mind of barbaric man because he does not possess the necessary know-
ledge which explains natural phenomena'. 'As the biologist and the
astronomer of today would repudiate primitive explanations of their
respective sciences, and declare those explanations to be untrue ex-
planations of "natural" phenomena, although they themselves may share
with the savage other primordial conceptions; so would the anthro-
pologist, whose business it is to study the complex psychology of man,
refuse to accept any explanation put forth in the name of science which,
on examination, proved contradictory of facts as well attested as those
upon which modern biology and astronomy themselves are founded.
It may very well be so, but we are not so sure as Mr. Lawrence
is that the anthropologist is capable of the final decision. According to
him 'the truth or falsehood of this modern Spiritualism is a question
for the anthropologist to decide'. As a matter of fact, however, the
anthropologist would probably have come to a like decision, on similar
grounds, concerning the question whether dreams possess mental
meaning and significance, a decision which we now know would have
been wrong. It is possible that the ignorant superstitions clustering
about the belief in the supernatural may, when we learn to interpret
them correctly, prove to have a core of truth, symbolic if not literal, just
as psycho-analysis has shewn to be so with those clustering about dream
life. We would at all events challenge his view that such matters can
be settled without reference to modern psychology, for it is becoming
clearer that the indirect contact which is the only one possible to
effect with primitive men will have to be extensively supplemented by
the modern methods of directly investigating the primitive mind that
remains in all of us. In other words matters such as these will never
be adequately investigated or explained until we have men trained in
both social anthropology and psycho-analysis.
E. J.
*
Sexual Life of Primitive People. By Hans Fehlinger, translated by
Dr. and Mrs. S. Herbert. (A. & C. Black Ltd., London 1921. Pp. 133. Price 5s.)
This volume gives a condensed but representative account of the
sexual life and customs of primitive peoples. The topics covered are :
BOOK REVIEWS 475
Modesty among primitive people; pre-marital freedom and conjugal
fidelity; courtship customs; marriage; birth and foeticide; ignorance ol
the process of generation; mutilation of the sex organs; maturity and
decHne. A useful bibliography is appended in which, however, we miss
the valuable work of Karsch-Haack on homosexuality among savages.
The risk books such as these run is in not being able successfully
to avoid the impression that primitive peoples are to be treated as a
unit. The ordinary mind tends to regard them as such and is apt to
forget that the difference between one such race and another may be
quite as great as that between either and ourselves. This risk is fairly
well avoided in the present volume, care being taken to quote concrete
facts while restricting the number of generalisations made. It is a book
that can be commended to those desiring preliminary information on
this topic. The translation has been very well done.
E. J.
The Psychic Research Quarterly. Vol. I. (Published by Kegan Paul,
Trench Trubner and Co.)
The first numbers of this new periodical have reached us. As it*
title indicates, it is concerned with the various aspects of spiritism.
From an editorial article entitied ' The Special Technique of Psychical
Research' we take the following passages (p. 193). 'The light which
modern investigations, and especially psycho-analytic methods, have
thrown on the unconscious motives which determine seemingly causeless
actions is in itself a contribution of first-rate importance to the subject.
It has been proved up to the hilt that even the apparently most
senseless actions of the deranged have a raison d'etre which is per-
fectly comprehensible when once the mechanisms concerned are laid
bare. Henceforward all arguments in favour of the genuineness of
phenomena which are based on lack of motive for their fraudulent
production must be considered worthless, for no mediumistic activities
are more irrational than many compulsive acts whose secret causes
have been discovered . . . Psycho-analytic methods in particular are
the most powerful which have yet been devised for the investigation of
those transformations of personality which so closely resemble some of
the conditions with which Psychical Research is concerned'.
In No. 4 is a paper by Dr. William Brown entitled ' Psycho-Pathology
in Relation to Psychical Research ', in which he quotes some of his
hypnotic experiences in France; he points out how these could err-
oneously have been interpreted in a spiritistic sense.
We understand that this journal is , about to change its character into
that of a general psychological one; E. J.
REPORTS OF THE INTERNATIONAL PSYCHO-
ANALYTICAL ASSOCIATION
CENTRAL EXECUTIVE
The Seventh International Psycho- Analytical Congress will be held
in Berlin on September 22 to September 25, 1922. The titles of
papers to be read should be sent to the Secretary (J. C. Fliigel,
11 Albert Road, London, N.W. 1) before July 1, and abstracts
before July 15. A Reception Committee is being formed in Berlin
and further details will be communicated in due course.
THE BERLIN PSYCHO-ANALYTICAL SOCIETY
yanuary 6, ip2i. Short Communications.
January 20, ip2i. Dr. K. Abraham : Contributions to the Theory
of the Anal Character,
Jantiary 2^, ipsi. General Meeting.
February ^, ipzi. Frau Melanie Klein : Child-Analysis.
February 10, ip2i. Discussion on the above paper.
February ly, ip2i. Dr. Alexander : Metapsychological Contri-
butions.
February 24, ip2i. Discussion on Psycho-Analytical Therapy,
March ^, ip2i. Short Communications.
March 10, ip2i. General Meeting.
March ly, ip2i. Dr. Simmel : On the Psycho- Analysis of Tic.
March 24, ip2i. Short Communications.
April y, ip2i. Short Communications.
April 14, ip2i. Dr. Sachs : Contributions to Symbolism.
April 21, ip2i. Short Communications. 1
April 28, ip2i. Dr. Reik : On the Psychology of Early
, Christendom.
476
■PBI
REPORTS 477
May 12, ig2i. Short Communications.
May ip, IQ2I. Frau Melanie Klein : Disturbances of Orientation
in Children.
May 26, ip2i. Short Communications.
yune 2, ip2i. Dr. Hubermann : On Speech ; Dr. Harnik : Review
of Ferenczi's paper on Tic. ^
June Pj, ip2i. Discussion of Dr. Harnik's review. ^
yune 2j, ip2i. Short Communications,
June 30, ip2i. Dr. Boehm; Transvestitism.
New Members: Dr. F. Alexander. Berlin- Wilmersdorf, DOssel-
dorferstrafie 77. Frau Dr. Happel, Frankfurt am Main, Leerbach-
straCe 39.
From the Swiss Society: Dr. Nachmansohn.
From Budapest: Dr. Harnik.
From Vienna: Dr. Sachs.
Max Eitingon, Hon. Sec,
Berlin W, RauchstraCe 4.
DISCUSSION OF TIC
Dr. y. Harnik recognised especially the great similarity between
traumatic neuroses and tic which Ferenczi had pointed out both as
regards the (motor) symptoms and the conjectured mechanism of origin
of the disease. A case of generalised tic, which he had had the oppor-
tunity of investigating analytically for some time, led him to suspect
that an uncontrolled, strong affect of fright (e. g. as a result of libid-
inal fright traumata) was the precipitating etiological factor of the
disease. It seemed to him that in such cases — as Freud had
similarly found in the traumatic neuroses — the mental machinery,
as a result of the traumatic experience, was overwhelmed with
a mass of (libidinal) stimuli which could not any longer be con-
trolled by the customary mechanism of repression. The motor
symptoms of tic then served as a safeguard against these libidinal
demands in the sense Ferenczi had indicated.
Dr. Abraham said that the term tic had been originally used
equally for entirely heterogeneous symptoms, such as 'tic dou-
loureux ' (trigeminal neuralgia), facial nerve spasm, and many com-
pulsive motor symptoms, as well as for those conditions which were
today termed tic. In differential diagnosis the main difficulty now
» See the following 'Discussion', and this Journal, Vol. 11, p. l.
478 REPORTS
lay in separating tics from obsessional acts. A solution was not
offered either by Meige and Feindel or by Ferenczi. The character-
istics of tic given by the former authors were vah'd in every parti-
cular in the case of obsessional acts as well. The inability to con-
trol stimuli described by Ferenczi had been excellently observed,
but this inability was quite as characteristic of obsessional neu-
rotics. The narcissistic symptoms upon which Ferenczi had laid
the greatest weight occurred in every case of hysteria or obsess-
ional neurosis. The regression to narcissism, however, certainly
never went so far in the case of a tiqueur as it did in the ment-
ally deranged. Ferenczi was! right in pointing out the similarities
between tic and catatonia, but he had overlooked the many very
fundamental contrasts between the two conditions. There was
never a question of tic terminating in dementia. On the other
hand, the assumption of an exaggerated organ-libido and the con-
struction of a group of ' patho-neurotic tics ' seemed very fruitful.
So far as he could see, it was just as impossible to separate
tic absolutely from obsessional actions as it was to separate an-
xiety symptoms completely from conversion symptoms in hysteria.
The mutual relationship was, however, quite similar. The tiqueur
adduced an etiology, that is to say a connection between his suf-
ferings and his experiences, just as the hysterical patient did.
But in his emotional life he did not give any significance to this
connection, as did the obsessional neurotic who feared disastrous
results from the omission of his obsessional acts. The sup-
pression of a tic was painful and when it was allowed free play
it undoubtedly relieved tension ; but he could not agree to the
view that the suppression of a tic caused anxiety.
One of the principal objections arose at another point. Ferenczi
had expressed the opinion that no relationship to an object seem-
ed to be concealed in a tic. His (Dr. Abraham's) analyses had
revealed a double relationship to the object, a sadistic and an
anal one. The resemblance of tic to obsessional neurosis showed
itself here ; it seemed closer than the relationship to catatonia.
The first tic mentioned in psycho-analytic literature was a
tongue-clicking (Studien Qber Hysteric, 1895), through which the
female patient unconsciously wished to wake her sick father who
had just fallen asleep. There was certainly a tendency here direc-
ted against her father's Hfe. One of his (Dr. Abraham's) patients
suffering from a generalized tic made snapping movements with
REPORTS
479
his fingers, at the same time always throwing his arm forward in
an aggressive manner. Tics which take the form of making gri-
maces had a plainly hostile meeining. Such examples could be easily
multiplied.
Some tics, especially such as coprolalia, showed plainly an
anal origin (as Ferenczi had also pointed out). Others, as for
example the whistling tic, could be traced to anal activities
(flatus). The hostile intention to degrade was attained in these cases
by the anal route. Other tics imitated the contractures of the
sphincter. Certain tics seemed actually to mimic the well known
invitations of Gotz von Berlichingen. *
On the basis of his observations, which he could not describe
here in detail, it seemed to him that tic was a conversion symp-
tom on the sadistic-anal plane. The following table might elucidate
the conception:
Object love
Genital
plane
Normal state
Control of the
innervation of
the organism
Ability to
control psychic
stimuli
Object love
Genital
plane
Conversion
hysteria
Anxiety Hysteria
Object love
Sadistic-anal
plane
Tic
Obsessional
Neurosis
Narcissism
with transition
to Auto-Erotism
Catatonia
Paranoid
conditions
According to the above schedule, tic stood parallel to the
obsessional neuroses, just as conversion hysteria was parallel to
anxiety hysteria. Tic was a regression one step lower than the
hysterical conversion symptom and approached nearer to catatonia
than to hysteria. It belonged, so to speak, to the conversion series
and not to the anxiety series.
' The reference here is to the play of this name by Goethe in which
the hero, G6tz, after refusing to capitulate, demonstrates his defiance to the
besiegers of his castle by exhibiting his buttocks at the window (Translator' ■
note).
480 REPORTS
The diflferences in the conception he had advanced in contra-
distinction to Ferenczi's exposition, did not in any way detract
from the credit due to him, who was the first to undertake a com-
prehensive psycho-analytic consideration of tic. Although certain
of Ferenczi's postulates had seemed to him erroneous, neverthe-
less they had given him hints which showed the way to the opin-
ions expressed above.
Dr. van Ophuijsen thought Ferenczi's failure to give a clear
definition of tic was a shortcoming of his paper. Though he had
cited Trousseau's formulation, he included stereotypies with tics
in the first part of his paper. This was misleading, for if one
left out of the question the narrower meaning of this technical
term, as it was applied in connection with the acts of schizo-
phrenics, which were continously repeated in the same manner,
obsessional acts (ceremonies) and 'bad habits' could be included
as well as tics. Moreover it was also apparent that Ferenczi gave
some examples of so-called tics which were true obsessional acts.
In any case one should keep in mind the idea that a subjective
feeling of obsession, perhaps motivated by anxiety, was never
absent in obsessional acts, whereas a liqueur, though he knew that
his tics occurred without his will, sometimes without his being
aware of them, was yet free from a feeling of obsession.
It was certainly not true that the suppression of a tic gave rise
to anxiety ; this assertion was true in the case of obsessional acts
but not in the case of tic.
The following example demonstrated how difficult it was to
decide whether an act was a real tic. A boy had the habit of
frequently opening his mouth, allowing his chin to sink to his
chest and at the same time lowering his head a little. Then, with
a sudden movement of his head backwards, he would shut his
mouth and at the same time emit a sound something like 'Haung'.
It turned out that this was the abbreviation of a prayer, which the
boy used to repeat when he got his fear of robbers. Should one
call this case an obsessional act or a defence symptom in an anx-
iety hysteria? If Ferenczi maintained that the 'maladie des tics'
(Gilles de la Tourette) led to dementia, this must be based on
some error; nevertheless if he was correct one argument fell away
from his assumption that tic should be considered as an isolated
regression to the narcissistic stage. The reference to chorea
of the child was also incorrect, for even if this sickness exhibited
REPORTS 481
symptoms which resembled tics, certainly one was not dealing here
with a psycho-neurosis.
Van Ophuijsen added, in connection with the arguments of
Abraham, that in his opinion the boundaries between tics and obsess-
ional acts ought not to be completely obliterated. Abraham's
table even allowed one to keep in mind a differentiation whose
analogy was to be found in hysteria. In anxiety-hysteria morbid
fear was the main symptom ; a conversion-hysteria symptom, how-
ever, was not accompanied by fear. Obsessional symptoms were
characterized by a subjective feeling of obsession ; tic was not
accompanied by this feeling. One must remember this differentia-
tion. In conclusion van Ophuijsen asked if it had been possible
to determine whether an inflamed area which so often became the
starting point of a tic possessed some anal significance in uncon-
scious phantasies.
Dr. S. Ferenczi: The courtesy of the president enables me to
participate, at least by correspondence, in this interesting discus-
sion. Every reader of the paper which is being discussed must
concede that Dr. van Ophuijsen points out the obvious when he
calls attention to the incompleteness of this presentation, and
especially of the definition of tic. As I expressly said, my formula-
tion was intended only to serve as a preliminary orientation and
to bring into prominence such problems as might arise from it
Thus it will entirely have fulfilled its purpose if it is successful
in eliciting other points of view, as, for instance, the interesting
contribution to the discussion by Abraham.
I admit that according to Abraham's experiences a higher
valuation should be placed upon sadistic and anal-erotic impulsive
components in the genesis of tics than I credited to them in my
paper, but I may add that I did not overlook them. His 'conver-
sion on a sadistic anal plane' is an original point of view and
also important theoretically. I cannot refrain, however, from call-
ing attention to the points which remain unshaken, even after
acceptance of .^braham's position.
1. Tic, even in Abraham's formulation, is just as contiguous
to the obsessional neurosis and hysteria as to catatonia.
2. The fundamental relationship of tic to catatonia (Abraham
says 'resemblance') remains (as a localized motor defence in con-
tradistinction to generalized catatonia).
3. The analogy between tic and the traumatic neurosis permits
482 REPORTS
us to classify this type of neurosis between the narcissistic and
the transference neuroses. This intermediary position, as is well
known, is also characteristic of the war neuroses.
4. The termination of the ' maladie des tics ' in catatonia is
a definitely established fact (see the reports of Gilles de la Tou-
rette) even if it is not a very frequent occurrence.
I hope that the consideration of the * regressions of the ego \
to which the work of Freud on Massenpsychologie points the way,
will also erase the differences which have still continued to exist
in the elaboration of tic. In my work on the developmental stages
of the reality-principle I have already expressed the opinion that
in order to define any neurosis it will be necessary to state the
ego-regression as well as the libido-regression characteristic of it.
As a result especially of the observations made on psycho-neu-
rotic tic, I now believe that the regression of the ego is far more
extensive in this form of neurosis than in hysteria or obsessional
neurosis (obsessional neurosis regresses to the 'omnipotence of
thought', hysteria to 'magic gestures ', tic to the plane of defence
reflex). Future observations should determine whether the forcible
suppression of a tic can provoke only 'tension states' or also
true anxiety.
THE BRITISH PSYCHO -ANALYTICAL SOCIETY
- Seven meetings of the British Psycho-Analytical Society have
been held since the last report.
j^— The meetings held on January 13 and February 10 were de-
voted to the discussion of the questionnaire sent out by theExe- |
cutive of the International Psycho-Analytical Association. !
At the meeting on January 13 a discussion also took place as
to whether any action should be taken with regard to the corre- '
spondence on psycho-analysis appearing in various daily news-
papers. It was decided that no action should be taken unless
special circumstances arose, in which case the Committee should
have power to deal with them.
At the meeting on February 10, Dr. Ernest Jones mentioned
a detail from the analysis of a patient who was an engineer and
engaged on designing a particular type of engine. He was unable
to decide a certain technical point in its structure, although he felt
REPORTS 483
this should be quite easy considering his special knowledge. The
analysis showed that this particular point was unconsciously associated
with early masturbatory practices and ideas, and on their becoming
conscious he was immediately freed of his inhibition to see the
point in question and was able to solve the problem.
At the meeting on March 10 Dr. Estelle Cole gave some notes
on a new point in the symbolism of flute playing. The patient's
dreams showed a direct association between the sound of whistling
(air) and the act of micturition. There was marked urethral erotism
in the case.
Dr. Ernest Jones mentioned that there were always three
preliminary points to be especially noted with regard to symbolism.
1. EstabUshment of the fact of symbolism.
2. Tracing out its existence in other fields.
3. Determining the roots of association.
With reference to this particular symbolism Dr. Jones showed
a picture by F61icien Rops portraying a female figure playing on
a flute (large phallus) through which bubbles were blown which ^
formed into new planets.
Dr. Waddelow Smith mentioned the case of a girl in a Mental
Hospital who had attacks of nymphomania with homicidal inclinations
towards nurses. These attacks suddenly changed in about three
days to homosexual attraction with homicidal tendencies towards
doctors and male persons. The whole attack lasted about a week,
after which time an apparentiy normal sexually quiescent period
would set in for about two months. No analysis of the case had
been attempted, but. Dr. Smith hoped to report more precise details
later on.
At the meeting on April 14, Mr. Gough mentioned that he had
collected several thousand dreams of children of eleven to twelve
years of age from Central and Eastern Europe. He had noted that
the sun, moon, or various planets appeared in about 60 per cent
of tiie dreams of Czech children.
Miss Barbara Low made a few remarks on dreams that appeared
in the form of myths.
Dr. Stoddart mentioned a case in which Lichen planus appeared
as a neurotic symptom. -f :|
Mrs. Riviere mentioned that a chance remark on her part during !
an analysis brought up an association which succeeded in helping
to remove a severe resistance in her patient
l"/
484 REPORTS
At the meetings on May 19, June 16 and July 13, Mrs. Riviere
read her translation of Freud's articles on technique. Discussions
took place on various points arising from them.
At the meeting on July 13 Mr. Fliigel gave an interesting
account of his visit to Geneva and the psycho-analytical movement
there.
Douglas Bryan, Hon. Sec.
July 24, 1921.
*
THE NEW YORK PSYCHOANALYTIC SOCIETY
Report of the May Meeting
I
A psychoanalytic study of Friedrich Nietzsche, by Everett D.
Martin. (Author*s Abstract)
Nietzsche had a brilliant and cultivated mind and a personality
endowed with great sensitiveness, violent emotional conflicts, and
great candor. People who have been unsympathetic towards
Nietzsche's teachings have for the most part been quite without
scientific knowledge of psychology, and have for years sought to
discredit his philosophy by appearing to find through all his writings
evidences of an incipient psychosis. Max Nordau was a good
example of this. It is enough to say that Nietzsche was throughout
the greater part of his life unadjusted and that this fact influenced
his thought to some extent. He felt this lack of adjustment him-
self, and a large part of his philosophy should best be understood
as an attempt, to use his own words, 'to cure' himself. Un-
doubtedly, he struggled against a tendency to inversion and much
of his philosophy of affirmation should doubtless be understood as
compensation.
Was Nietzsche a paranoiac with a tendency to psychic homQ-
sexuality? Undoubtedly he had an unusual tendency to hero-
worship which long survived his adolescence. His periods of most
successful functioning seem to have been those during which he
was the friend and apologist for some great man. His relations
to Ritschel and Wagner and his violent attachment to such historical
persons as Goethe, Schopenhauer, are cases in point.
REPORTS 485
It is precisely because of his own emotional conflicts and his
critical struggle against his own tendencies to rationalization that
Nietzsche has penetrated more deeply than others into those systems
of rationalization which are commonly confused with popular
social thinking. Here we find, to my mind, the most fruitful
connection between Nietzsche and Analytical Psychology. As a
social psychologist, Nietzsche anticipates tliose who approach the
problems of social psychology from a psycho-analytical standpoint.
He understands with remarkable perspicacity the significance of the
unconscious. He says that the social psychologist of the future must
be a ' vivisectionist', that he must accustom himself to ' the most dia-
bolical squinting out of every abyss of iniquity'. He loves to speak
of the 'Jesuitism' and 'Tartuffery ' of our instincts. Nietzsche says
that in modern civilisation, the natural order of rank is upset an.d that
the unconscious Will to Power of lower men is at work destroying
the values of civilization and that this down-pulling tendency is
always rationalized as herd morality, patriotism, religion, brotherly
love, Christian ethics, etc. These forms of rationalization, says
Nietzsche, are but disguised instruments, weapons of the meek, by
which sick people — spiritually sick and defectives — seek to limit
their superiors and thus have a better opportunity of survival in
the struggle for existence.
II
Bergson and Freud: Some points of correspondence, by Dr. Albert
Polon. This paper will be published in full in the Journal.
Adolph Stern, Secretary
July 20, 1921.
THE VIENNA PSYCHO-ANALYTICAL SOCIETY
Member taken over from the British Society : Eric Killer,
Wien, VIIL, Albertgasse 55.
1. January £, ipsi. Dr. Alfred Winterstein : The Collector.
2. Januare ip, ip2i. Short communications : (a)^Dr. Nunberg:
On drowsiness and going to sleep during analysis, (b) Frau Dr.
486
REPORTS
Hug-Hellmuth : (1) A contribution to the understanding of the
connection between symptom and experience. (2) On the test of
intelligence, (c) Frau Dr. Deutsch : (1) An observation. (2) From
the analysis of a paranoid psychosis, (d) Dr. Schilder: On obsess-
ional impulses, (e) Dr. Jokl : Contribution to the origin of the
womb-phantasy, (f) Dr. Reik: A remark of Gustav Mahler's,
(g) Dr. Hitschmann : From Lassalle's life and writings, (h) Dr.
Weiss: From the correspondence between Goethe and Zelter.
(i) Professor Freud : A ' mistake ' in speaking English.
3. February 3, 1921. Dr. Schilder : On Narcissism.
4. February 9, 1921. Business meeting.
5. February 16, 1921. Short Communications: (a) Kolnai:
On sadism and masochism, (b) Dr. Hitschmann : On sexual neu-
rasthenia, (c) M. U. C. Reich: A contribution to anal erotism,
(d) Dr. Hitschmann : On the nonsense talked by a little girl.
6. March 2, ip2i. Dr. Th. Reik: S. Epiphanius makes a slip
of the pen.
7. March 16, ipsi. Short communications, (a) Dr. de Saussure:
On the terminology of anal erotism in French, (b). A communi-
cation, (c) Frau Dr. Deutsch (1) A pseudo-persecutional delusion.
(2) A mistake in a dream, (d) Dr. Rank: On psychic potence.
8. March 30, ipsi. Frau Dr. Deutsch : On Pseudologia.
9. April IS, 1921. Discussion of Freud's ' Beyond the Pleasure-
Principle' (opened by Dr. P. Federn).
10. April 2'j, ip2i. Dr. Sadger: Neurosis and Castration
Complex.
11. May II, ip2i. Short communications, (a) Frau Dr. H.
Deutsch: An observation of a child, (b) M. U. C. Reich: Day
dreams of an obsessional neurotic, (c) Dr. Schilder: Notes on
observations of psychotics. (d) Dr. Reik : On psycho-analytic tech-
nique, (e) Dr. Federn: On 'Beyond the Pleassure-Principle'.
12. May 2£, ip2i. Dr. Th. Reik: The tradition of Judas
Iscariot.
13. yune 8, ip2i, M. U. C. Reich : On instinctive energy.
\^
rr
1
Volume n, Part 3/4
Issued December 1921
■t
*^
/