Freud's Theory of Psychoanalysis 0814761674

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OLE ANDKJA3R OLSEN AND

SIMa K0PPE

FREUD'S THEORY OF PSYCHOANALYSIS OLE AADKJ.tER OLSEN

and SIMO K0PPE TRANSLATED BY

Jean-Christian Delay and Carl Pedersen with the assistance of Patricia [(nudsen

n NEW YORK UNIVER.SITY PRESS

N elV York and London

Freud's Theory

0/ Psychoanalysis

PSYCHOANALYTIC CROSSCURRENTS General Editor: Leo Goldberger

THE DEATH OF DESIRE: A STUDY IN PSYCHOPATHOLOGY

by M.

Guy Thompson

THE TALKING CURE: LITERARY REPRESENTATIONS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

by Jeffrey Bennan NARCISSISM AND THE TEXT: STUDIES IN LITERATURE AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SELF

by

Lynne Layton and Barbara Ann Schapiro, Editors

THE LANGUAGE OF PSYCHOSIS

by

Bent Rosenbaum and Harly Sonne

SEXUALITY AND MIND: THE ROLE OF THE FATHER AND THE MOTHER IN THE PSYCHE

by Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel ART AND LIFE: ASPECTS OF MICHELAl'JGELO

by

Nathan Leites

PATHOLOGIES OF THE MODERN SELF: POSTMODERN STUDIES ON NARCISSISM, SCHIZOPHRENIA, AND DEPRESSION

by

David Michael Levin, Editor

FREUD'S THEORY OF PSYCHOAl'JAL YSIS

by Ole Andkjrer Olsen and

Simo K0ppe

Translation of this book from the original Danish was paid for by the Danish Research Council for the Humanities and by the Danish Medical Research Council. © 1988 by Gyldendalske Boghandcl, Nordisk Forlag All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Olsen, Ole Andkjaer. [Freuds psykoanalyse. English] Freud's theory of psychoanalysis / Ole Andkjaer Olsen and Simo Koppe; translated by Jean-Christian Delay and Carl Pedersen with the assistance of Patricia Knudsen. p. cm.-(Psychoanalytic crosscurrents) Translation of: Freuds psykoanalyse. Bibliography: p. Includes index. ISBN 0-8147-6167-4 1. Psychoanalysis. 2. Freud, Sigmund, 1856-1939. I. Koppe, Simo. II. Title. III. Series. BF 173.053 1988 87-28270 150.19'52-dcl9 crp New York University Press books are Smyth-sewn and printed on permanent and durable acid-free paper.

CONTENTS

Foreword by Leo Goldber;ger I ntroduaion PART I.

The Historical Origins of Psychoanalysis

Xl A'V

1

.

Introduaion to Part I

3

A. The Shaping of the Subject in Capitalist Society 1. The Liberalistic Subject Concept 2. The Humanistic Subject Concept 3. The Mechanistic Subject Concept 4. Comparison of the Three Subject Concepts

5 7 11 15 19

B. The Subject in Philosophy, Natural Science, and Literature 1. Philosophy (a) The Philosophy of Knowledge and Association Psychology (b) Ethics and Dynamic Psychology 2. Physics and Biology (a) The Theory of the Conservation of Energy (b) The Theory of Evolution 3. Neurophysiology and Neuroanatorny (a) Reflex and Localization (b) Instinct, Drive, and Affect 4. Psychology (a) Psychophysics (b) The Pleasure Principle and the Principle of the Tendency Toward Stability 5. Psychiatry (a) Neuropathology and Psychiatry

23 24 27 30 34 36 38 40 42 45 50 51 54 57 60

CONTENTS

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(b) Hypnosis and Hysteria (c) Sexology and Psychiatry 6. Literature (a) Romantic Literature: The Eruption of the Hidden Forces of the Soul (b) Naturalist Literature: Life History and the Renlrn of the Past C. The Crisis of the Subject and Critique of Simplified Subject Concepts 1. The Positivistic Developn1cnt of the Mechanistic Subject Concept 2. Marxism and the Critique of the Liberalistic Subject Concept 3. Psychoanalysis and the Critique of the Mechanistic Subject Concept PART I I .

Freud and the Development of Psychoanalysis

Introduction to Part II

62 67 70 71 73 79 82 84 88 93 95

A. Freud's Background 1. Childhood and Youth (1856-1873) 2. University Studies and Hospital Training (1873-1886)

97 98 101

B. The Inception of Psychoanalysis 1. First Phase: Hypnoid Theory and the Splitting of Consciousness (1886-1892) 2. Second Phase: The Theory of Defense and the Psychic Primary and Secondary Processes (1892-1895) 3. Third Phase: The Unconscious and the Preconscious (1895-1896) 4. Fourth Phase: The Oedipus Complex and Infantile Sexuality (1896-1897)

109

C. The Organization of Psychoanalysis 1. The Making of the Psychoanalytic Movement (1897-1918) 2. The Establishment of Psychoanalysis as an International Movement (1918-1939)

130

III

118 123 126

130 141

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CONTENTS PART I I I.

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The Analytic Work

149

Introduction to Part III

151

A. Dreanls 1. The Formation of DreanlS (a) The Three Phases of Dreanl Fornlation (b) The Logic of Dream Work 2. The Interpretation of Dreams (a) The Dreanl of Irnla's Injection (b) The Dreanl of the Botanical Monograph

155 157 157 162 167 167 175

B. Psychic Malfunctions 1. The Memory Function (a) The Screen Memory of Picking Dandelions (b) Forgetting the Nanle Signorelli 2. The Speech Function (a) Slips of the Tongue (b) Jokes

179 180 180 183 186 187 188

C. Society, Religion, and Art 1. Society and Religion (a) The Historical Origins of the Oedipus Conlplex (b) The Oedipus Complex in Industrial Society 2. Art and Literature (a) Leonardo da Vinci and His Artistic and Scientific Work (b) E. T. A. Hoffnlann: "The Sandman"

191 192 192 197

PAR T I V .

The Therapeutic Wark

202

203 206 209

Introduction to Part IV

211

A. Classification of Diseases 1. Actual Neuroses (a ) Neurasthenia (b) Anxiety Neurosis (c) Hypochondria 2. Perversions (a) Sadism and Masochisnl (b) Voyeurism and Exhibitionism

213 220 221 222 224

224 226 228

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CONTENTS

230 231 232 235 238 240 242 244 246 249

(c) Fetishism (d) Homosexuality 3. Transference Neuroses (a) Obsessional Neurosis (b) Conversion Hysteria (c) Anxiety Hysteria 4. Psychoses (a) Paranoia (b) Schizophrenia (c) Melancholia and Mania B. Therapy 1. The Analysand (a) Demands on the Analysand (b) The Analysand's Resistance to Being Cured 2. The Analyst (a) Demands on the Analyst (b) Shortcomings and Weaknesses of the Analyst 3. The Process of Therapeutic Analysis and Its Goals (a) The Therapeutic Process (b) The Goals of Analysis

251 252 254 257 259 260 262 263 263 266

C. Case 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

272 276 286 291 299

PART

Histories Dora (Conversion Hysteria) Little Hans (Anxiety Hysteria) The "Rat Man" (Obsessional Neurosis) Schreber (Paranoia) The "Wolf Man" (Anxiety Hysteria and Obsessional Neurosis)

304

v. The Theoretical Work

315

I ntroduaion to Part V

317

A. The Conceptual Apparatus of Metapsychology 1. The Topographical Vie\vpoint (a) Freud's Models of the Psychic Apparatus (b) Comparison and Appraisal of the Topographical Models 2. The Economic Vie\vpoint (a) The Developn1ent of the Drive Theorv

319 326 327

.J

336 341 344

CONTENTS

~

(b) A General Appraisal of the Drivc Theory 3. The Dynanlic Vie\vpoint (a) Types of Processes and Their Corresponding Principles (b) Thc Adaptive and the Psychoscxual Rcgisters

351 355

B. The Subject's Genesis 1. Adaptive Development 2. Psychosexual Developnlent (a) The Genesis and Developnlcnt of the Sexual Drives (b) The Genesis and Developlllent of Psychological Structures (c) Gender-Specific Developnlent 3. Development and Repetition Conlpulsion

369 372 386 387 393 405 414

C. The Subject's Structure 1. Activity and Passivity (a) Drive Aims and Intersubjcctivity (b) Freedom and Deternlination 2. Pleasure and Unpleasure (a) Fundamental Hypotheses in the Theory of Affect (b) Anxiety and Defense 3. Subject and Object (a) Identification and Object Cathexis (b) Fantasy and Reality

422 427 429 431 435 435 445 453 456 466

Bibliography

473

1. Bibliographical Notes 2. Freud Bibliography 3. Bibliography of Secondary Literature Name Index Subject Index

357 362

475 500 517 535 539

FOREWORD

The Psychoanalytic C1~OSSC1t:Ii~ellts series presents selected books and monographs that reveal the gro\ving intellectual ferment \vithin and across the boundaries of psychoanalysis. Freud's theories and grand-scale speculative leaps have been found \vanting, if not disturbing, fronl the very beginning and have led to a succession of derisive attacks, shifts in emphasis, revisions, nlodifications, and extensions. Despite the chronic and, at times, fierce debate that has characterized psychoanalysis, not only as a movenlent but also as a science, Freud's genius and transformational inlpact on the t\ventieth century have never been seriously questioned. Recent psychoanalytic thought has been subjected to dramatic reassessments under the s\vay of contemporary currents in the history of ideas, philosophy of science, epistemology, structuralisnl, critical theory, semantics, and semiology as \vell as in sociobiology, ethology, and neurocognitive science. Not only is Freud's place in intellectual history being meticulously scrutinized, his texts, too, are being carefully read, explicated, and debated \vithin a variety of conceptual franle\vorks and sociopolitical contexts. The legacy of Freud is perhaps ITIOSt notably evident \vithin the narro\v confines of psychoanalysis itself, the "impossible profession" that has served as the central platform for the promulgation of official orthodoxy. But Freud's contributions-his original radical thrust-reach far beyond the parochial concerns of the clinician psychoanalyst as clinician. His \vritings touch on a \vealth of issues, crossing traditional boundaries-be they situated in the biological, social, or humanistic spheres-that have profoundly altered our conception of the individual and society. A rich and flowering literature, falling under the nlbric of "applied psychoanalysis," came into being, reached its zenith nlany decades ago, and then almost vanished. Early contributors to this literature, in addition to Freud himself, came from a \vide range of backgrounds both \vithin and outside the medical/psychiatric field, many later becanle psychoanalysts

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FOREWORD

thenlselves. These early efforts \vere characteristically reductionistic in their attenlpt to extrapolate froln psychoanalytic theory (often the purely clinical theory) to explanations of phenomena lying at sonle distance from the clinical. Over the years, acadenlic psychologists, educators, anthropologists, sociologists, political scientists, philosophers, jurists, literary critics, art historians, artists, and writers, anl0ng others (\vith or without formal psychoanalytic training) have joined in the proliferation of this literature. The intent of the Psychoanalytic Crosscurrents series is to apply psychoanalytic ideas to topics that nlay lie beyond the narrowly clinical, but its essential conception and scope are quite different. The present series eschews the reductionistic tendency to be found in much traditional "applied psychoanalysis." It acknowledges not only the conlplexity of psychological phenonlena but also the way in which they are embedded in social and scientific contexts that are constantly changing. It calls for a dialectical relationship to earlier theoretical vie\vs and conceptions rather than a mechanical repetition of Freud's dated thoughts. The series affirnls tlle fact that contributions to and about psychoanalysis have conle fronl many directions. It is designed as a forunl for the multidisciplinary studies that intersect with psychoanalytic thought but \vithout the requirenlent that psychoanalysis necessarily be the starting point or, indeed, the center focus. The criteria for inclusion in the series are that the \vork be significantly informed by psychoanalytic thought or that it be aimed at furthering our understanding of psychoanalysis in its broadest meaning as theory, practice, and sociocultural phenonlenon; that it be of current topical interest and that it provide the critical reader with contemporary insights; and, above all, that it be high-quality scholarship, free of obsolete dogma, banalization, and empty jargon. The author's professional identity and particular theoretical orientation nlatters only to the extent that such facts may serve to fralne the \vork for the reader, alerting hinl or her to inevitable biases of the author. The Psychoa'nalytic Crosscurrents series presents an array of \vorks from th~ nlultidisciplinary domain in an attenlpt to capture the ferment of scholarly activities at the core as \vell as at the boundaries of psychoanalysis. The books and nl0nographs are fronl a variety of sources: authors \vill be psychoanalysts-traditional, neo- and post-Freudian, existential, objectrelational, Kohutian, Lacanian, etc.-social scientists \vith quantitative or qualitative orientations to psychoanalytic data, and scholars fronl the vast diversity of approaches and interests that nlake up the humanities. The series entertains works on critical conlparisons of psychoanalytic theories

FOREWORD

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and concepts as ,vell as philosophical eXaJninations of fllndan1ental assun1ptions and epistelnic clain1s that furnish the base for psychoanalytic hypotheses. It includes studies of psychoanalysis as literature (discoursc and narrative theory) as \vell as the application of psychoanalytic concepts to literary criticisn1. It ,vill serve as an outlet for psychoanalytic studies of creativity and the arts. Works in the cognitive and the neurosciences ,vill be included to the extent that they addrcss sOlne fllnd3..1ncntal psychoanalytic tenet, such as the role of drean1ing and othcr forms of unconscious n1ental processes. It should be obvious that an exhaustive enun1eration of the types of ,vorks that n1ight fit into the Psychoanalytic Crosscurrents series is pointless. The studies cOlnprise a lively and gro,ving literature as a unique domain; books of this sort are frequently difficult to classify or catalog. Suffice it to say tl1at the overriding ain1 of the editor of this series is to serve as a conduit for the identification of the outstanding yield of that en1ergent literature 3..l1d to foster its fiJrtl1er unhampered gro,vth. Leo Goldberger Professor of Psychology New York University

INTRODUCTION

In this book, \ve propose a \vay to read-or reread-the \vorks of Sign1und Freud. As the years passed during \vhich \ve snldied Freud's o\vn body of \vork and its historical context, as \vell as a fair share of the ITIOre recent psychoanalytic literature, \ve can1e to feel that the newer literature by and large did not reflect an advance over Freud's psychoanalysis. The n10re recent \vorks seen1 9ishearteningly sterile when cOlnpared \vith the wealth of ideas that flo\ved from Freud, the spark of his contradictions, his openended forn1ulations. Freud's choice of \vords, phrasing, and style are intin1ately bound to all that falls under his analytic scrutiny. Furthermore, we noticed that there were fundamental aspects of Freud's psychoanalysis that had been ignored or outright suppressed in n10st of the English and, in particular, American psychoanalytic literature, aspects brought to our attention by conten1porary French psychoanalysts such as Jacques Lacan and Jean Laplanche. In this book \ve hope to reintroduce these aspects of Freud's \vork and establish (or reestablish) the stimulating field within \vhich Freud made his observations, the field that n1ade them so pervasively dialectical. Our contention is that Freud's ideas cannot be wrenched out of context without suffering great loss, and that consequently it is important to gain an understanding of how these ideas fit into the \vhole body of his work. To this end, \ve will make use of a nun1ber of theoretical forn1alizations in an attempt to establish the Freudian alphabet, so to speak, so that it \vill again be possible for attentive readers to spell their way through Freud's writings. An in1portant concept that \viII be set in sharper focus by this proposed rereading of Freud's works is that of the human subject, the word subject replacing more traditional terms such as individual) pcrsoll) or hurnan being) for reasons that \vill become apparent in the course of the book. The treatment of this concept consti nltes the n1ain secondary axis of this book. We will discuss the nature of the new subject from three different perspectives: first, from the perspective of psychoanalysis itself, that is, of nleta-

INTRODUCTION

psychology and clinical psychoanalysis; second, frol11 the perspective of the subject's social conditions, hoping thereby to shed light on the relationship between the socially deternlined subject and the subject srudied by Freud in psychoanalysis; and third, fronl the perspective of the history of science, in order to explore the extent to \vhich not only the subject, but also sciences dealing \vith the subject (including psychoanalysis) are thenlselves socially and historically determined. We feel that these three perspectives dovetail quite \vell, leading to a fruitful appraisal of the psychoanalytic srudy of the subject both as a srudy of a socially and historically detennincd subject and also as a socially and historically deternlined srudy of that subject. We will briefly expand thcsc comments by taking up our three approaches separately. (1) In his theoretical work, Freud sought to elucidate the narure of the subject's strucrure, as \vell as of its genesis. The conlnlon interpretation of this work sets these !\vo aspects in close causal relation; the carliest stages in the genesis of the subject form the basis for the deepest layers of the subject's strucnlre. The further back one goes in development, the deeper one goes into the unconscious, and the nlore decisive causes one finds for the subject's behavior. We suggest another reading of Freud's conccpts; \ve stress the idea that one elenlent of a strucrure has no nleaning except in relation to another. Thus, as nvo fundamental elenlents of Freud's theory are the conscious and the unconscious, his study of the subject's strucrure concerns itself with all the \vays in \vhich the unconscious acts decisively upon the conscious, \vhere the relation of the conscious and the unconscious does not follo\v the la\vs of simple linear causality, but rather takes on the fornl of overdeternlination. In overdeternlination, perception in the present may exert influence on mcnlory presentations by a process of deferred action; thus, there is no sinlple confonnity benveen structure and genesis. Inlpressions fronl the earlicst phases of development are processed according to certain rules before being encoded in the unconscious as strucrural elements, and these impressions are, in principle, able to create ne\v psychological constellations in the nlind throughout life. Hence, \ve have reason to seek other than purely ontogenetic explanations for the subject's stnlCture. (2) Freud hinlself hoped to find in phylogenesis what he had not found in ontogenesis. It is on this point that he made \vhat seenlS to us to be his only fundanlcntal nlistake. He was fascinated by the developnlental theories of Haeckel, Danvin, and notably Lamarck, and believed that their nc\v ideas about biology could be transferred to psychology, a nlaneuver Danvin

INTRODUCTION

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hinlself had attenlpted. If ontogenesis, as Haeckcl nlaintained, was an abbreviated repetition of phylogenesis, then it should be possible to apply infornlation stenmling fronl phylogenesis to ontogenesis. Freud proceeded to do just this. The phylogenetic core of psychoanalytic theory harbors farreaching ideas to the effect that the deepest layers of the unconscious contain nlaterial reaching back to the origin of nlankind, even of biological life itself. The operational 111odes of the unconscious are thought to have been handed do\vn fronl generation to generation to the present-day subject in the fonn of inborn reflexes that are beyond the control of \vill po\ver. These reflexes are supposed to represent inherited inlpressions and experiences fronl the origin of life, fronl the first hunlan beings' struggle against the elenlents in prinleval tinles, and fronl events that took place in the earliest social orders. In the course of our o\vn shldy, \ve \vondered \vhether it \vas not possible to exchange the theoretical core of psychoanalytic subject theory with one other than the phylogenetic. Indeed, on many points, Freud's phylogenetic explanations can be replaced or supplenlented \vith sociogenetic explanations, that is, explanations on the social history of the subject through the past centuries, rather than based on its biological history. This leads us to the conclusion that psychoanalytic theory is not a general theory of the subject, but a theory \vhose validity is restricted to a specific subject, nanlely the subject as it has evolved \vithin the confines of a sphere of intinlacy. The sphere of intimacy is that part of society that attends to reproduction, in a broad sense of the ternl: private life, care of children, leisure tinle, rest, and so forth. About two hundred years ago the sphere of intinlacy becanle characterized by the emergence of the nuclear fanlily. Concomitantly, tlle functions of the sphere of intilnacy became subject to the increasing influence of the spheres of production and circulation in an expanding capitalist society and to a great extent deternlined by them. The subjects of the sphere of intimacy, primarily housewives and children, were in turn affected by these changes. The nlonotonous nature of the house\vife's tasks, tlle intensified care of children, the necessity of being at close quarters all day, the absence of the father from the home, all contributed to establish what could be called a frictional sexuality benveen these subjects (housewives and children). In short, the sphere of intinlacy generated increasing anlounts of nervousness and irritability, not to mention the binding of heightened emotional and imaginative activity. The fact is incontrovertible that Freud made his way to psychoanalysis from the biological sciences. In what we will call the adaptive register, \ve

Xl'ttt

INTRODUCTION

sho\v that Freud studied fundanlental psychobiological la\vs and that he took great interest in the relationship of adaptation benveen organism and envirollllent. This, however, does not undercut our contention, for, as \ve \vill also sho\v, Freud did often take into consideration the above-mentioned origin of sexuality. In \vhat we call the psychosexual register, he \vorked \vith sexuality as a fairly clearly delineated field of inquiry, governed by rules as a whole different from those conlnlanding the adaptive register. Sexuality, or the sexual drives, are organized in clusters with goals very different from, though not entirely independent of, their biological and social functions. The Oedipus complex, one of Freud's central concepts, is a remarkable tool \vith which to analyze the nuclear family's particular emotional ties and entanglenlcnts, their implantation in childhood, and the all-too-obvious inlprint they leave on the adult. Hence, Freud's concept of the unconscious does not have as nluch bearing on inheritance that goes back to the origin of the species as it does on the psychological structures passed on to a child immediately after birth, and bound to and transmitted by the institluions and traditions of the nuclear family. However true that may be, our point is not to suggest that a simple oneto-one correlation can be established benveen the content of the Freudian unconscious and the past three or four centuries of social history. No socialhistorical analysis, no matter how precise, can deternline how the unconscious operates. The unconscious is not identical to a certain quantum of specific historical material derived fronl the sphere of intimacy. This material is subject to distortion as it is incorporated into the unconscious in accordance with a set of rules that cannot be assimilated to the idea of ideological distortion. It is the initiation of the child into language and intersubjectivity that distorts preverbal experiences into active unconscious fantasies. Eventually, it becanle Freud's opinion that fantasies in the unconscious arose by way of deferred action (nachtriiglichket"t); they behaved like nlenlories of events that have taken place even though the events never had. Hence, besides phylogenesis, ontogenesis, and sociogenesis, \ve nlust pay attention to genesis in the stnlCtllre itself As a child grows up, acquiring language, learning to orient itself in physical and social space, as \vell as in a linear tinle continuunl, a utopic identity based on narcissistic and oedipal experiences is encapsulated in the unconscious. But the unconscious form taken by these oedipal experiences, the Oedipus conlplcx, is not an accurate inlage of the child's true fanlily relationships; instead, it is a fantasy inlage that for better or \vorse leaves its inlprint on the entire life history of the subject, \vho never quite learns to conlprehend the natllre of this some\vhat

INTRODUCTION

X1X

obscure and nlythic, though very active, force within hinl. Since the unconscious Oedipus conlplex is deternlinant for both the anxieties and desires of the subject, it has a psychological reality that distinguishes it fronl both biological and social reality. As just mentioned, the child's initiation to language and intersubjectivity is the strucrural prerequisite for the distortion of experiences from the sphere of intimacy that takes place in the unconscious. Language and intersubjectivity permit subjects to relate meanings to formal systenls of signs and to combine linguistic elements in such a way as to let thenl take on ne\v meanings, as \vell as to give them access to the active-passive polarity. Since both this polarity and others interchangeable with it are made to carry great emotional valence by a strong Oedipus complex, it seems to us that psychoanalytic insight into these nlatters has special bearing on capitalist society, where an independent sphere-the sphere of intimacy-has been set apart to care for socialization. This is where the activepassive polarity is instilled in children in countless variations: not only as \vhat pertains to love and hate, but also to questions concerning power, authority, freedom; concerning hiding kno\vledge from others and obtaining access to their secret kno\vledge; concerning property ownership, presents, inheritance, debt, and affects related to these experiences, such as guilt, envy, pride, ambition, and so on. What is historically specific about the subject srudied by psychoanalysis is the fact that its initiation to the active-passive polarity has taken place within the confines of the sphere of intimacy. Other historical contexts for this initiation to the active-passive polarity has taken place \vithin the confines of the sphere of intimacy. Other historical contexts for this initiation can be imagined. (3) Finally, we were led to inquire into the conditions that encouraged the appearance of psychoanalysis at a precise juncrure of history, to srudy our object from the point of vie\v of the history of science. Both before psychoanalysis and contemporaneously with it, other attempts \vere made to formulate coherent explanations for the subject's multifaceted experiences in the sphere of intimacy. The first of these was ostensibly the culruralhistorical movement generally kno\vn as romanticism. Romantic writers portrayed their characters as vortices of emotion and desire, following the acrual fate of these in their works. As mentioned earlier, this intensification of affect was in part due to the new role ascribed to the sphere of intimacy and to its isolation from and subservience to the other spheres of society. The understanding of this shown by the romantics, however, was very poor. They dwelt on the purported divinity of human nature, an idea vastly

INTRODUCTION

inadequate to stem the rising tide of the expanding capitalist social system's encroachment upon the sphere of intimacy. If anything, they imagined that further isolation of this sphere \vould someho\v free it from its shackles, as if its values could be self-determined and exist independently of the rest of society. From a psychoanalytic point of view, this romantic idea of a boundless paradisiacal natural state must be called narcissistic. Like the romantics, Freud studied the expression of feelings in the sphere of intimacy, but unlike them his approach was concrete. He was a clinician trying to respond to the complaints addressed to him by his patients. Furthermore, he gave his \vork a scientific turn, thereby making it at once more accessible and practically useful. The first hypotheses of psychoanalysis became tools \vith \vhich it \vas possible to gain more insight into the workings of the subject for a number of years. Though more successful \vith his project than the romantics \vere with theirs, Freud's success cannot simply be attributed to superior genius. One reason for this is that the subject'S crisis had \vorsened during the course of the nineteenth century. It had simply become easier to see that something \vas going \vrong. Literature itself had evolved accordingly. Naturalistic \vriters such as Flaubert, Zola, Ibsen, and J. P. Jacobsen (author of the novel Niels Lyhne see I.B.6.b) had come to the fore. Freud knew the \vorks of these \vriters. Another reason is that Freud had access to a vast body of empirical kno\vledge gathered during the course of the nineteenth century from many fields: from physics and neurophysiology, through psychology and psychiatry, to philosophy and literature. Freud had a striking gift for combining information from these many sources into a whole. This led him to forge a theory that has the great advantage of being applicable to the problems of the sphere of intimacy \vithout isolating this sphere ideologically from the rest of society. Already in the 1890s, Freud pointed out that socially determined sexual morality was in part responsible for the existence of neurosis. Thus psychoanalysis became a more useful tool than romantic literature and philosophy \vith \vhich the subject of the sphere of intimacy could reflect or act upon his problems. The question no\v is ho\v useful a tool psychoanalysis has continued to be since. Our overall appraisal of the starns of psychoanalysis is a cautious one~ as neither is psychoanalysis an unambiguous phenonlenon, nor has the nanlre of its theory or its analytic and therapeutic nlethods been fully clarified. Freud \vas the founder of a nlovenlent that has radiated in many directions and sonle of his follo\vcrs have taken it far fronl its point of departure. Not all of this can still be called psychoanalysis, and Freud J

INTRODUCTION

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cannot be blanled for the nlistakes his successors have 111ade. If we focus our attention on psychoanalysis as a therapeutic nlethod of treatIllent for neurotic afHictions, then \ve find that its results arc not particularly uplifting. As institutional nlodels, psychoanalytic institutions are not particularly inspiring either: most psychoanalysts are politically consenrative; Freud's ideas on the neutrality of the analyst and the, in principle, self-deternlination of the analysand have been reinterpreted as positivistic and liberalistic dognla; and little has been done by psychoanalysts thenlselves to open the doors of psychoanalysis to the general public. It is not, ho\vever, our intention \vith this book to discuss the present status of psychoanalysis, but nlerely to point out that nluch relnains to be discovered in Freud's \vritings. This is true nOt\vithstanding the fact that society, the sphere of intinlacy in particular, has undergone great change during the past fifty years. It seenlS to us that in tinles of social change such as ours \ve might find support in Freud's psychoanalysis to help us avoid falling back on rom~ntic and politically useless, if not outright dangerous, posItIons as \ve grope our \vay to a ne\v society. Having given an account of ho\v \ve have approached the object of our research and, consequently, of how we have treated it, \ve will end with a few remarks on the \vay the book has been designed. In a presentation such as this one no nlatter where \ve begin we have to suppose prior knowledge of something that \vill be clarified only later. It seems no one has yet succeeded in giving a flawless account of psychoanalysis, not even Freud himself. We have opted for the simplest solution by moving fonvard chronologically in the first t\vo parts before making a thorough revie\v of Freud's psychoanalytic work in the last three. In part 1, \ve place psychoanalysis in its historical context by presenting the nlajor social, scientific, and cultural events contemporaneous with its beginnings. There, we will take a closer look at the genesis of the sphere of intimacy. In part 2, we paint a portrait of Freud's life, enlphasizing his renlarkablc talent for the integration of social, scientific, and cultural experience, his creation of psychoanalysis almost alone in the 1890s and the expansion of psychoanalysis into a vast movement after the turn of the century. Then, inspired by Freud himself (1923a), we take up his analytic, therapeutic, and theoretical work, in that order, in the last three parts of the book. The analytic work treated in part 3 covers topics such as dreanls, literary \vorks, and social behavior, all of which might be called applied psychoanalysis, as opposed to clinical psychoanalysis \vhere living subjects are analyzed. Psychopathology and the psychoanalytic classification of mental diseases,

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..

INTRODUCTION

lTIOStly neuroses, \vill be presented in part 4 along \vith Freud's therapeutic work. Finally, part 5 \vill take the foml of an in-depth reading of Freud's nletapsychological concepts and of his vie\vs on the subject's genesis and strucrure. This scheme allows tlle book to be used for reference or to be read as an unbroken essay. It is not an elementary introduction to psychoanalysis, so readers only slightly familiar \vith the subject will get more out of reading parts 2, 3, and 4 first. These parts are more accessible and the tlleorctical concepts used in part 5 are defined in them. Instead of using footnotes, \ve have put references directly into the text. Moreover, we have \vorked out a section of bibliographical notes, citing and in some cases discussing, chapter by chapter, tlle most inlportant secondary literarure. In the introductory note to the bibliography proper, we have given a more conlplete explanation of the princi pIes guiding our system of reference and of the strucrure of the bibliography itself. The nlany diagrams should be useful in srudy siruations, but they may be skipped during a less committed reading of the book. Some of our better-informed readers \vill perhaps feel that too little space has been allotted to our study of sociogenesis and the place of psychoanalysis in the history of science. We \vould like to say in our defense that additions would not significantly have altered our basic contentions, and tllat we have felt it incumbent upon us first of all to underscore the importance of a thorough reading of Freud's texts. Having carefully srudied nlany of tlle leading Freud interpreters available on the market today, \ve dare affirnl that nunlerous autll0rs tend to go to tlle other extreme, that is, to base their works on at tinles strikingly inaccurate or insufficient readings of his \vritings. Those readers \vho find this book useful nlay be interested to knO\V that \ve are planning a similar book about leading schools of psychoanalysis since Freud. It is in tllis second book that \ve plan to make a nlorc detailed appraisal of the social status and political inlplications of psychoanalysis.

I

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

INTRODUCTION TO PART I

In part 1 of this book, \ve \vill present the historical origins of psychoanalysis and follo\v these up to the tinle of its inception as an independent science in the 1890s. In order to understand the nattlre of psychoanalysis, it is necessary to b~ fatlliliar \vith both \vhat preceded it and the social conditions and scientific ideas fronl \vhich it arose. Since \ve consider psychoanalysis to be a science prinlarily concerned \vith the hunlan subject, \ve \vill concentrate our efforts on describing the characteristics of this social subject, on the changes it has undergone through history, as \vell as on the philosophical, scientific, and esthetic disciplines that, in the service of sundry ideologies, have contributed to shaping its image. Section A of part 1 begins \vith our analysis of the shaping of the subject in capitalist society. The evolution of society led to the fraglnentation of the subject into parts corresponding to the functions it had to fulfill (production, circulation, and reproduction). This three-part fragmentation in rurn generated three typical subject concepts, of\vhich \ve will describe the essential aspects. In section B, \ve will examine ideas stemnling fronl philosophy, literattlre, the narural sciences, and nledicine, ideas presunled to have influenced Freud around the tinle of the inception of psychoanalysis. Finally, in section C, \ve \vill show ho\v the three basic subject concepts began to influence each other in the latter part of the nineteenth century, and how the psychoanalytic theory of the subject is a critical continuation of the humanistic subject concept. In our account, we have attenlpted to renledy an illlportant \veakness in the existing literattlre on the historical origins of psychoanalysis, in that we have tried to "include everything" instead of focusing on a fc\v chosen fields. It is not possible to single out one chief source for psychoanalysis,

4

THE HISTOluCAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

so the follo\ving variegated, though nonetheless coherent, portrayal of the background of psychoanalysis is necessary if one is to n1ake intelligible the conditions surrounding its birth. Freud hin1self went beyond the narro\v confines of his o\vn field \vhen he created psychoanalysis, and this is precisely \vhat \ve n1ust also do in order to understand his \vork.

A.

THE SHAPING OF THE SUBJECT IN CAPITALIST SOCIETY

It is our intention here to outline the societal background of psychoanalysis as a psychological theory of the subject. It seems necessary to suppose that \"hen psychoanalysis arises as a "ne\v" theory of the subject, it does so because society has in fact given rise to a "new" subject. The conlponent parts of the ne\v theory are of course fragnlents of older theories, but in the last analysis it is not this fragmentation of the older theories, but the changed conditions of the subject that nlake theoretical renewal necessary. It is difficult to say \vith any certainty whether a particular subject concept is a forerunner to, ideologically paving the way for, the subject's real evolution, or if, on the contrary, concepts first emerge in the wake of real changes, perhaps even long after these have taken place. On one hand, the free-\vill hypothesis, to which we shall soon return, was used in the political struggle for a free and denlocratic society; on the other, the negative consequences of the subject's changed conditions (the repression of feelings and the organization of neurosis) were first recognized much later. Although unable to solve this theoretical difficulty no\v, \ve conjecture that at precise monlents in history, trenchantly ne\v subject concepts arose that included both a theory of the subject's stnlCnlre and an ideological progranl for its upbringing, and that each concept so conceived was closely related to the social practice from which it originated. A precisely formulated conception of what the subject should be like often nlakes it easier to understand ho\v the subject really is and how it can be forced to change, repress, and nurture different parts of itself in order to live up to the demands of society. By basing our analysis of various subject concepts on

6

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

our prior knowledge of the evolution of capitalist society, it is possible for us to present a reasonably coherent picture of both the evolution of the subject itself and its concept, as well as to place psychoanalysis within this pICture. The essence of our prior knowledge of the subject consists of the fact that capitalist society \vas increasingly subdivided into spheres each with its specific function. With increasing division of labor, the individual was no longer able to carry out all the tasks necessary to support life, but instead found himself forced to specialize; in return, specialization led to increasing efficiency. We will operate \vith three general functions, namely production, circulation, and reproduction. It is easy to inlagine a primitive society \vhere one, in a manner of speaking, lives from hand to nl0uth, that is, lives off the plants and animals that are at hand. In capitalist society, functional compartmentalization has taken place. Production takes place almost exclusively in a sphere of production, a place of work where the subject is only present during \vorking hours and \vith the sole ainl of producing conlffiodities. COlnmodities circulate, are purchased and sold, in a sphere of circulation, in principle merely a large market to which everyone has access, but in fact also including the rules, regulations, and la\vs that govern it, that is, the entire state apparatus. Finally, reproduction takes place in a sphere of intimacy including the honle and family and \vhere eating, procreation, rest, and other similar activities take place during the subject's spare time. Though a subject may nl0ve freely fronl one sphere to another, it will inevitably change character in doing so, just as it takes off its \vork clothes when conling home fronl \vork or dresses accordingly \vhen going out. A particular subject will often feel greater affinity for the sphere that most conlpletcly defines his or her identity. The typical housewife, if there are any left, sees her entire life fronl the standpoint of the sphere of intimacy, its functions, and ternlinology. Sensitivity, love, manners, authority, and all the other ternlS that go hand in hand \vith a life \vith husband and children conlprise the basic building blocks of her self-understanding. She takes these concepts \vith her \vherever she goes, to the polls, for exanlple. It is our intention to apply this point of vie\v to the historical evolution of capitalisnl, and to denlonstrate how the three spheres of society and their functions have generated three distinct subject concepts that retain much of their resilience even in our day.

THE SHAPING OF THE SUBJECT IN CAPITALIST SOCIETY

7

1. THE LIBERALISTIC SUBJECT CONCEPT Capitalistic nlodes of production began to replace feudal ones in the 1500s. This \vas partly a consequence of the nlassive influx of wealth frol11 colonies overseas. Great quantities of capital \vcre accumulated that nlade it possible to reorganize modes of production fronl handicraft to the Inanufacnlre of con1illodities. Work was sinlplificd and rationalized; the snlall shops of craftsnlen gave \vay to vast halls \vhere artisans practicing various trades \vere gathered. Each step in the production of a particular article was entrusted to a group of persons, \vhich made it possible for these persons to carry out the task nlore quickly and nlore effectively than had been the case before. In order to keep up \vith this trend, it becanle necessary for craftsmen to relinquish the independence they had hitherto enjoyed. Through a cenrury.. long process, they becanlc \vage earners, which, of course, radically changed their lives. Ho\vever, the spread of capitalist modes of production depended on the salability of the commodities produced, and consequently the first profound social changes occurred in the sphere of circulation. The first owners of capital \vere trade capitalists \vho made their profits by buying lo\v and selling high. This was also true \vhen they invested sonle of their capital in means of production. They were not interested in producing commodities for their usc value, but only in producing exchange values, i.e., financially profitable commodities. In order to reach this goal, it was necessary for them to ensure that conlmodities as well as labor could circulate freely on the market; this necessity prompted the a\vakening of the trade capitalists political consciousness. If the laws in force forbade free trade, there \vas no advantage to be gained from producing comnlodities cheaper than those of their competitors. The many isolated, protected, and relatively self-sufficient local conlmunities characteristic of feudal times were unfit for larger commercial intercourse. Hence, the capitalist's first task was political, namely to ensure free trade. Precisely this task was at the root of the liberal ideology expounded during the seventeenth and eighteenth cennlries. The comnlon denonlinator of the capital-strong bourgeoisie'S political and ideological progranl is the concept of freedom. The first freedonl demanded \vas freedonl of trade, which meant the freedom to trade anywhere, without regard to the privileges of guilds and castes. Furthermore, free competition and frcc trade

8

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

were denlanded, specifically the elinlination of all tax restrictions as \vell as of all nleasures protecting weak professions. Everyone \vas to have equal access to the nlarket and equal opportunity to purchase the cheapest comnlodities (the capitalist \vas interested in buying the cheapest labor). This liberalistic \vay of thinking \vas extrapolated to nlatters concerning the state: political freedonl, freedonl of assembly, freedonl of expression, freedom of faith, and so on, were all demanded. The state \vas to attend to the \vishes of the people and not the other \vay around. This conceptual edifice \vas cro\vned by the idea of free \vill, according to \vhich nature had endo\ved the individual with the ability to nlake free choices and this endowment, in the final analysis, \vas the essence of his personality. Thus, inner freedonl (free \vill) is the core of the liberalistic subject concept, just as external (social) freedom is the core of liberalism's political program. But the rights of the bourgeoisie \vere not won without a struggle. The political and ideological struggle conconlitant with the spread of capitalist means of production lasted for centuries, from the birth of the first ideas on freedom in the seventeenth century to the bourgeois revolutions of 1789, 1830, and 1848. The struggle \vas in part centered around and led by the so-called bourgeois public, at first a kind of ne\vs agency for businessmen that gradually became a debate forum for the entire bourgeoisie. On a small scale the bourgeois public exemplified the ideal social structure as seen by the bourgeoisie. Any topic could be brought up there, although matters of general ongoing concern had priority. Any opinion could be expressed, even if it challenged the church and state monopolies on truth and power. With these facts in mind, it is clear that for a long tinle the bourgeois public only existed as an underground movenlent at the heart of autocratic social systems. Far-sighted philosophers and \vriters \vho expressed new ideas on man and society were censured and otherwise persecuted. Exanlples are Pascal, Spinoza, Montesquieu, and Voltaire. Ne\vspapers and magazines expressing liberal ideas were also subject to censure. The real opposition to absolute nl0narchy \vas seated in secret societies and lodges, \vhere people Inet under the pretext of pursuing harnl1ess activities to discuss political questions. Members \vere nl0stly acadenlics and businessnlen, and it is among them \ve find the future political leaders of the bourgeoisie. Parlianlcntary denl0cracy, instituted in nlost of Europe during the nineteenth century, is the direct descendant of the bourgeois public. In the bourgeois states of Europe, public debate is still considered a guarantce of freedom itself. As stated previously, the core of the liberalistic subject concept is the

THE SHAPING OF THE SUBJECT IN CAPITALIST SOCIETY

9

idea of free \vili. For nlost of the far-sighted philosophers of the tinle, nothing \vas nlore self-evident than the idea that the individual \vas equipped \vith an ego representing the ultinlate reasoning agency behind all choice. The English philosopher John Locke (1632-1704) expressed his blind faith in the idea that the individual is directed by his conscious ego in a nlanner characteristic of the tinle: The idea of the beginning of nl0tion we have only from reflection on what passes in ourselves, where we find by experience that barely by willing it, barely by a thought of the mind, we can move the parts of our bodies which were before at rest. [... ] This, at least, I think evident; that we find in ourselves a power to begin or forbear, continue or end several actions of our minds and motions of our bodies, barely by a thought or preference of the mind ordering or, as it were conlffianding, the doing of such or such a particular action. This power which the mind has thus to order the consideration of any idea, or the forbearing to consider it, or to prefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa, in any particular instance, is that which we caU the will. (Locke 1690, p. 195)

This \vay of looking at the hunlan subject had been given its nlodern dress half a cenrury earlier by Rene Descartes (1596-1650). Descartes believed that all life could be reduced to res cogitans (thinking things) and res extensa (extended things), or simply things of the mind and things of the body. They are distinct properties, in principle able to exist autonomously, but combined in humans in the sensorium commune located in the pineal gland. Impulses traveling benveen the body and the mind must pass through the gland. The extended world, of which the body is a part, is seen as a machine entirely subject to the laws of causality; it is furthernlore characterized by divisibility. The ego or the mind (res cogitans) J on the other hand, cannot be divided. Even if the ego is able to carry out different tasks, it is still "one and the same soul, always in operation, regardless of \vhether I want something, sense something, or understand something" (Descartes 1641, p. 797). The mind is able both to receive impulses froln and send impulses to the body, and hence the surrounding \vorld, but it is not a reflex apparatus such as those we know fronl the nervous systenls of animals. Animals are able both to sense and react to the world, though they are unable to choose how to do so; they are living machines of a kind. Conversely, the human mind is not causally determined, but rather guided by free \vili. This dualistic conception of body and mind as two independent parameters nonetheless able to exert mutual influence is generally called the theory of psychophysical interaction. This theory was already criticized

10

THE HJSTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

during Descartes's lifetin1e for letting the soul, as a cause itself without cause, interfere in the n1echanistic processes of the material world. Not\vithstanding, Descartes's theory enjoyed \vide circulation until long after his death, and it gave incipient liberalistic thought a philosophical and psychological basis. Let us now take a closer look at \vhat is entailed by the idea of free \vill. The theory of psychophysical interaction tells us that the seat of freedom is in the n1ind and not in the body. Mind and body are in conflict. When the mind don1inates the body, the subject is free, and it is unfree \vhen the opposite is true. The impulses of the body are called feelings and passions and should be controlled by the impulses of the n1ind, emanating fron1 reason and intellect. The subject is then split into two fundamentally different parts. This split is reflected by the liberalistic subject concept in the sense that reason is clearly placed above feelings. If reason does not have a firn1 grip on feelings, freedom itself is lost: first free \vill, then also social and political freedom. The Danish dramatist Holberg's views on peasants are a typical example of this way of considering the problem. Peasants are, according to Holberg, unable to emancipate themselves from their daily tasks and fan1ily lives, even \vhen these are not particularly satisfying. They lack a broader understanding of their own social condition and are characteristically apathetic and inert. They are short-sighted in their calculations, \vanting in their productivity, and lax in the face of their feelings and passions. To their advantage, Holberg claims that this is not their true nature, that they are able to learn to understand and to live up to the ne\v social ideals as \vell as anyone else, on the sole condition that they be given more freedon1 and n10re responsibility. Hence, \ve see that a slightly lofty ideal of freedom in1plies a far more concrete educational ideal. The external coercion of feudalism is replaced by an internal coercion based on self-control and logical calculation, whose ain1 is to n1ake the individual perfom1 more efficiently. This disciplinary process begins \vithin the bourgeoisie's o\vn ranks and gradually spreads so as to include all tl10se \vho partake or are to partake in the capitalist economic system. The ne\v work ethic spreads from places of \vork to schools and hon1es, and the pedagogy of the 1600s and 1700s is filled with rulcs of comn10n sense the ego is expected to be brought up to obey. Farsighted and courageous businessmen becan1e thc ideal of an otherwise static society, and the n1yth of the great capitalist \vho earns his wealth by diligence, thrift, and shrewdness lives on even in our day. We assume that tl1C influence of tl1is educational philosophy led to the appearance of a ne\v

THE SHAPING OF THE SUBJECT IN CAPITALIST SOCIETY

11

psychological personality stnlCUlrc. During the period \vhen childhood enlcrged as a concept (thc idea of childhood hardly existcd beforc the advcnt of capitalisnl), the years of childhood \vere rcsolutely turned into years of disciplinary apprenticeship and learning that stood in sharp contrast to prinlitive feelings and reaction patterns. It nlight even be argued that feelings and passions first canle into being \vhen an attenlpt was nlade to repress thenl. In SUnll11ary, it can be said that there is a certain logical relation bcnveen the liberalistic subject concept, \vhose essence is the idea of free \vill, and the changes in the subject's character strucUlre that in fact took place during early capitalisnl. Freedonl seen in a liberalistic perspective is not the freedom to choose anything one pleases. On the free nlarket there is only one choice, naJl1eJy the cheapest conmlodity. Any sensible person \vill only be able to nlake that one choice. In fact, the unreasonable, short-sighted, and passionate choice is not a choice at all, for it is silnply determined by body chenlistry. Even a philosopher like Spinoza (1632-1677), \vho denied the existence of free \vill, \vas, in the final analysis, still in agreenlent \vith liberalistic ideals \vhen he clainled that the reasonable ego \vould "be very little disposed to seek a good \vhich \vas present, but \vhich would be a cause of any future evil" (Spinoza 1677, p. 342). The idea of free \viJI is, as \ve have suggested, an ideological figurehead. It does not say the \vhole truth about the subject, though it \vas a good point of reference in the political struggle that took place in Europe fronl the sixteenth century on, and an effective argument in favor of discipline for the subject.

2. THE HUMANISTIC SUBJECT CONCEPT At the end of the eighteenth century and at the beginning of the nineteenth an alternative to the liberalistic subject concept appeared. In \vhat follows \ve \vill call this alternative the hunlanistic subject concept. T\vo causes nlay be cited for this development, both related to the upsurge of capitalisnl, namely society's increasing differentiation into sharply delineated spheres of activity and the changed economic conditions of the petite bourgeoisie. Before the advent of capitalism it \vas clistolllary for work to be done in or near the home. This was true of peasants and craftsmen, where employers housed their employees. Everyone took part in all phases of production, both gro\vnups and children, young and old, nlen aJ1

L-I__~;_:s_~:_~_~_--, ~L..I__(C_~~_:_e~_~_:n_s_)----' ~ the T"d

perception involved the transference of oscillations fron1 an external object to the mind. For Hobbes, ce ••• inlage and color is but an apparition to us of that motion, agitation, or alteration \vhich the object \vorketh in the brain or spirits, or some internal substance in the head" (Hobbes 1650, p. 186). Only \vhen the object \vas present \vas the conception called a sense; \vhen it was absent, it \vas called a nlenl0ry. Fantasy or nlenlory \vas the blurred inlage that renlained and gradually faded after the sense perception process had been completed. Hobbes used the inlagc of rings in \vater that do not stop appearing after the stone causing theln has sunk to the bottonl of the lake. The theory of movement perceived thought and association processes as types of chain reactions. The sequence of conscious ideas could be both random and ordered. It \vas randonl in the dreanl state, but ordered in the \vaking state. Temporal and spacial contact was the nlost fundanlental la\v of association. Other associations consisted of the nexus of cause and effect and means and ends. Compared \vith later associationist psychology, Hobbes's association theory is touchingly primitive, as the follo\ving quote illustrates:

26

THE HIST.ORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

The cause of the coherence or consequence of one conception to another, is their first coherence or consequence at the time when they are produced by sense: as for exanlple, from St. Andrew the mind runneth to St. Peter, because their names are read together; from St. Peter to a stone, for the sanle cause; from stone to foundation, because we see them together; and for the sanle cause, fron1 foundation to church, and from church to people, and from people to tumult; and according to this example, the mind may run alnlost from anything to anything (Hobbes 1650, p. 193).

Oscillations causing conceptions and associations in the brain did not stop in the brain but continued on to the heart, \vhere they either facilitated or impeded the so-called vital motion. Pleasure arose when the vital motion was facilitated. When it \vas inlpeded; unpleasure arose. Every idea in the mind \vas thus potentially linked \vith a passion in the heart: pleasure combined with the object causing desire was called love, \vhile unpleasure conlbined with its object \vas hate. However, passions did not chiefly stem fronl the external sense perception, but rather from the other organs of the body. These organs impeded or facilitated, cooled or \varnled the animal spirits in the heart in different \vays. It was not a question of need, but of "sensual pleasures," " ... the greatest part whereof, is that by \vhich we are invited to give continuance to our speC£esj and the next, by \vhich a nlan is invited to meet, for the preservation of his individual person" (Hobbes 1650, p. 209). The idea was that corporal conditions influenced the heart, \vhich in turn caused the brain to oscillate. It was the brain that provoked a movement possibly able to procure the object the body \vas lacking. Pleasure and unpleasure or "appetite" and "fear" \vere for Hobbes ((the first unperceived beginnings of our actions)) (Hobbes 1650, p. 237) and consequently made up the will. This motion, in which consisteth pleasure or pain, is also a solicitation or provocation either to draw near to the thing that plcaseth, or to retire from the thing that displeaseth; and this solicitation is the endeavor or internal beginning of animal motion, which when the object delighteth, is called appetite; when it displeaseth, it is called aversion, in respect to the displeasure present; but in respect of the displeasure expected, fear" (Hobbes 1650, p. 207).

Hobbes attempted to sustain the tenet of pleasurclunplcasure in detail and this same classification lay behind the description of other \vell-known emotions as pride, hunliliry, hope, despair, conlpassion, indignation, shame, and bliss. Volitional inlpulses did not lead directly to action, but \vere first consid-

THE SUBJECT

27

ered in the brain. If the goal \vas the procurenlent of a specific object or condition, the objective of reasoning \vas to discover the shortest route to this object or condition, that is, to devise the series of nleans by \vhich the end could be achieved, "as, \vhen a n1an, froln a thought of h01lOr to which he hath an appetite conleth to the thought of wisdom) which is the next means thereunto; and fronl thence to the thought of study, \vhich is the next nleans to \visdom" (Hobbes 1650, p. 193). Consideration passed through ideas, \vhich in turn involved desire and repugnance or fear, in other \vords, the \vish to achieve pleasure and avoid unpleasure. The goal \vould often be pleasurable and the nleans unpleasurable. The strength of reasoning lay in resisting inullediate unpleasure by in1agining future pleasure. By the same token, reasoning \vas able to inlpede an in1nlediate pleasurable action by iInagining funlre unpleasure. The educational ideal of early capitalist culture is reflected here in the one-sided tribute to reason, self-control, and calculation. We can trace nvo relatively separate thenles in Hobbes. First, the question of ho\\' external objects are perceived and ho\v associational paths are fornled bcnveen the representational clen1ents. This question is dealt \vith in epistenlological theories. Second, the question of how the thoughts and actions of the subject are related to emotions. This question is treated in ethics. Epistenlology regards 111an as a kt10\ving or observing subject. It is generally preoccupied with the question of the possibility and veracity of cognition. Psychology influenced by epistemological theory is based on thenles such as sensation, perception, nlemory, and reasoning. This tradition became increasingly popular within the field of experimental psychology emerging in thc latter half of the nineteenth cennlry, which consequently \vas marked by associationistic ideas (associations between elements of representation stemming fronl the senses). Ethics, or I1l0ral philosophy, regards man as a desiring subject forced to control his desire and adjust his behavior according to various moral and social laws. Psychological theory influenced by ethics seeks to comprehend the nature and origins of desire. Such theories became a part of scientific psychology and later psychoanalysis via neurophysiology.

(a) The Philosophy of I(n 0 lvledge and Association Psychology The most important area of epistemological discussion in the seventcenth and eighteenth centuries concerned to \vhat extent the knowing ego (rea-

28

THE HIST.ORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

son) \vas innate. Rationalists like Descartes clainled that the subject \vas equipped \vith certain innate ideas already prior to the first sense perception. Of course, these \vere not ideas about houses, trees, and the like, but rather ideas about conmlon logical contexts. Kant enlployed nvelve common categories used by the intellect to knO\V and classify the outside world. These t\velve categories \vere classified in four groups-quantity, quality, relation, and nlodality-each containing three categories. Empiricists like Hobbes, on the other hand, believed that the isolated subject \vas nothing more than an enlpty fonn receiving sense inlpressions. Locke \vent so far as to characterize the subject as a tabula rasa (empty blackboard) that ,vas gradually filled with ideas. Fronl our critical vie\v of the subject, this discussion of innate ideas is not so inlportant. Both rationalists and empiricists embraced the educational ideals and pedagogy of \vhat we have called the liberalistic concept of the subject. The claim that the subject has innate characteristics is only influenced by ideology \vhen it is used to classify subjects in races or classes, or \vhen it leads to assumptions of psychic differences bet\veen the sexes. We \vill instead focus on ho\\' the division of the subject into elnotion and reason finds expression in epistenlology. Epistemological philosophers intended to discover true kIlo\vledge of the world by eliminating subjective sources of error. Francis Bacon (1561-1626) had already pointed to the illusions of the hlllnan spirit, that is, characteristics of human subjectivity leading to the adlnission of nlistakes and distortion of the truth. One example of this is individual interests: the subject only sees what he \vants to see. To Inake a correct observation, the subject nlust forget himself, in order that the \vorld be perceived as lucidly as possible. This division of the subject becanle even Inore pronounced after Bacon. It \vas claimed that the subject perceived \vith the senses and reason, not \vith the emotions and desire. The enlotional part of the subject should therefore be eliminated. Most \vriters could give eXatllples ofho\v people possessed of violent passions \vere also robbed of their nonnal sense of judgment. Intense infanlation exenlpted the loved one fronl all faults, \vhile strong hatred nlade the hated person \vorse than he really \vas. Ho\vever, sources of error could also appear \vith sense perception. When the subject sensed a kIlife, characteristics like shape and size \vere objective sensations, \vhile the pain experienced by being cut \vas a subjective sensation, not atl innate characteristic of the kIlife. But ho\v does perception function after the enlotional part of the subject has been renloved and the rational part has been isolated? In An Essay

THE SUBJECT

29

Concenling HU111all Understanding fronl 1690, John Locke argued that the characteristics of the \vorld passed through the senses as simple ideas ("ideas of one sense"), for example, "yello\v," '\varn1," "hard," and "bitter"; "the coldness and hardness which a t11an feels in a piece of ice being distinct ideas in the n1ind as the snlell and \vhiteness of a lily, or as a taste of sugar, and snlell of a rose" (Locke, 1690, p. 90). When sin1plc ideas had been established, reasoning could conmlence. Reasoning consisted of consciousness n10ving from e1enlent to elenlent, in other \vords, of associations bet\veen elen1ents. Locke used somewhat the saIne types of association as Hobbes. Thus sin1ilarity was a principle for thought; two substances rcsenlbling each other or having sonlething in conUllon \vere naturally connected by an association. Another principle was proxin1ity in tiIHe and space: if the subject had experienced two things sin1ultaneously and/or concurrently \vith each other, he would auton1atically think of the other \vhen experiencing the one thing in isolation. A third principle was causality, that is, the \vay thought combines cause and effect, nleans and ends. Associations generally served to inutate rclations found in the world. JudgInent determined \vhat characteristics an object possessed, whether or not it could be the cause of a certain effect, and so forth. While sense perception of simple ideas \vas regarded as an objective process, thought was vulnerable to the disruptive influences of emotions, for judgnlent was an act of will. In principle, true kno\vledge was only possible if the will to true knowledge \vas present in addition to other volitional impulses of the subject. Another question preoccupying epistenl010gical philosophers was that of non realized properties in the world. It became conUllon practice to assume that objects in one way or another possessed an essence that could not be apprehended. This essence could be something in the objects thenlselves or in their mutual rclations. We will give an exan1ple of how nonrealized properties in the world are placed positively as non knowledge in the psychic sphere. In this lies a nascent concretization of the unconscious, which of course plays an important role in psychoanalysis. The example is taken from the Leibniz philosophy. G. W. Leibniz (1646-1716) is known prinlarily for his theory ofmonads, which holds that the material world is conlposed of indivisible infinitesimal particles, the so-called nlonads. These monads are incorporeal and can be compared to souls. Each one of them in the entire universe contains an image of all the others and comprises therefore its own miniature world. The differences between them are due to their different positions in the totality. The contents of each monad correspond to its particular perspec-

30

THE HIST.ORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

tive vis-a.-vis the other nlonads. Thus no t\vo nlonads are alike. The movenlents of the nlonads are not causal, but rather determined by the goal they are attenlpting to reach. They are incapable of exerting any influence on each other and develop in harnl0ny like a number of clocks synchronized always to tell the satlle time. Leibniz tratlsferred this train of thought to psychology by regarding man as a nlultitude of monads \vith the soul functioning as the "leading nl0nad." In Leibnitz's theory the perceptions of the soul (a concept devoid of its common meaning) are extremely comprehensive, for they must contain the inlage of the entire universe, all that has occurred atld will occur in it. Such conlprehensive ktl0\vledge is of course not directly contained in the individual soul, where only few perceptions are clearly evident at anyone time. Leibniz's theory, however, enlploys several levels of consciousness, atld can thus argue that at any given tinle residual knowledge is present in a kind of unconscious form as "small perceptions." Actual consciousness need not conle to a halt in front of the object of its immediate perception, but can by association continue to travel to the cause of the object, then further on to the cause of the cause in an endless chainlike structure linking the entire universe in a synthesis of time and space. Leibniz provided academic examples of his theory. When observing a cro\vded street, for instatlce an image of the whole is apparent, but the endless nunlbers of details conlprising this inlage are not all clearly evident. The sanle applies to the very weak perceptions of the initial hidden causes and the more or less predictable prospective effects. They form a swarm of unclear thoughts. It is these "small perceptions" that have been called the first philosophical formulation of the unconscious.

(b) Ethics and Dynamic Psychology Enlotions and desire faced sense perception and reason in the divided subject. The predontinmt philosophers of the seventeenth atld eighteenth centuries attempted to intensify kno\vlcdge by isolating sense perception and reason and clinlinating enlotions and desire. Their paramount task \vas to deternline \vhat \vas true and false in cognition of the \vorld. Ho\vever, there \vere still philosophers preoccupied \vith ethical questions, that is, questions of \vhat \vas good and evil for nlm and in nlan. These questions focused on enlotions and desire, \vhile cognition of the \vorld \vas relegated to an instructive function. Enl0tions and desire deternlined the ends of

THE SUBJECT

31

human action, ,vhile the senses and reason calculated the nleans by ,vhich to achieve this end. Thus ethics cal11e to be preoccupied ,vith 111I111an desire and enlotions. Many theories on \vhat nlan actually desired were fonTIulated. Sonle of these theories spoke of the pursuit of happiness and bliss, others of the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of unpleasure. An exanlple of the latter, Hobbes's theory of pleasure/unpleasure, has already been nlentioned: ,vhen bodily needs \vere not satisfied, the result ,vas increasing unpleasure, ,vhich ,vas only replaced by a feeling of pleasure ,vhen the satisfaction of needs had been initiated. This line of thought ,vas alnlost predonlinant in ethics as religious dognla gradually lost its influence. Pleasure and unpleasure defined good and evil respectively, not vice versa. The nlost il11portant question for Enlightenment philosophers was how to learn to control the enlotions \vhen inlnlediate satisfaction of needs was inlpossible or deleterious. Both Hobbes and Spinoza ackno,vledged that reason alone could accomplish nothing. Enlotions ,vere involved in rejecting imnlediate gratification by thinking of the unpleasure that ,vould result fronl it. Inhibition proceeded fronl this unpleasure and not fronl reason itself, as Spinoza nlade clear in his Ethics fronl 1677 in which he claimed that a feeling could not be inhibited ,vithout a stronger feeling opposed to It. According to Spinoza's theory, enlotion and reason are actually internvined. EITIotions \vere a prinlitive fornl of thought, ,vhile reason is a highly developed fornl of emotion. Passionate enlotions are prinlitive thoughts leaping from one idea to another ,vithout logical sequence. Logical thought is passive emotion moving frolTI one idea to another ,vithout appreciable fluctuations. In their purest fornl enlotions can thus be regarded as quantitative and lTIobile psychic energy linking ideas by different rules. In order to control any given elTIotion, it is necessary to attempt to separate it from the idea by thinking of something else; the enlotion is then destroyed. For example, in order to control a passionate love for another person, the subject can try to think of God and sec whether his passion is then subdued (and his love for God increased). The quantitative and economical vie,v is also evident in Spinoza's reconlnlendation to lead one confused emotion toward a coherent set of quiet elTIotions. The confused emotion will then either disrupt thought or be incorporated into the other emotions. This process is equivalent to the tenet that a passive feeling is no longer passive as soon as we form a clear idea about it. We have already noted the connection between the establishnlent of the sphere of intimacy at the end of the 1700s and beginning of the 1800s and

32

THE HIST,QRICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

the internalization of enlotions and the intensification of emotional life. In philosophy, Spinoza's description of enl0tions contributed to their reevaluation, and it is no accident that Spinoza was "rediscovered" during the ronlantic period. This ne\v current of thought \"as expressed by Rousseau in the 1760s, \vhen he changed his attinlde to\vard the nature of emotions in a nunlber of inlportant \vorks. He believed that emotions were not prinlarily destructive and asocial urges reducing men to the level of animals, but rather inlpulses leading to the expression of positive characteristics. Society destroyed these inlpulses and altered their content. The positive values of life-sensitivity, childhood, nature, and the national past-\vere enlphasized as a positive buhvark against a society hostile to the emotions. Ronlanticism elnbodied a serious attempt to reconstitute unappreciated and underrated enlotions. In Ronlanticisnl, the ancient hUlnanist injunction "kIl0'V thyself' is leveled against the hypocrisy of society. Man should be kno\vn by his emotions and \vill inevitably find something of value by searching the depths of his soul. Suppressed emotions should find release in fantasy, and poetry can serve as a nl0del of how these hidden treasures can once again be unearthed. Much synlbolisnl is associated with archeology. Ho\vever, emotions must not be distorted and used against their original intention, that is, the unearthed treasures nlust not be \vorshipped merely for their exchange value. (Mining was especially condemned by Romantic poets; see I.B.6 on literature.) The rehabilitation of the emotions in philosophy caused a nunlber of philosophers to stop isolating the cognition of the \vorId from the emotions, as the Empiricists had attenlpted to do. The result \vas that there was no pure or true cognition of the \vorId before desire, because desire deternlined interest in knowledge. Kno\vledge \vas intentional, that is, it \vas dependent on the intentions of the subject. Different versions of this vie\v can be found in Hegel, Kierkegaard, Marx, Schopenhauer, and Brentano. This vie\v is also found in Freud, but \ve ,vill venture the conjecture that it canle to hinl indirectly: from Herbart to Fechner, perhaps fronl Schopenhauer to von Hartnlann, and perhaps inspired by Brentano's lectures on the history of philosophy. (We do not believe that Freud \vas directly influenced by Brentano's phenonlenological theories. The lectures \vere about the history of philosophy and Freud's o\vn theoretical developnlent sho\"s no sign of any phenonlenological influence.) J. F. Herbart (1776-1841) succeeded Kant as professor of philosophy at Gottingen. He intended to nlake philosophy an independent discipline based on experience, nletaphysics, and nlathenlatics. Basing his theories

THE SUBJECT

33

on Leibniz, he created a tangible concept of the unconscious in \vhich he united the unperceived in the \vorld and the unperceived in the subject (part of the enlotions and desire). The soul \vas thought of as a mass cOin posed of ideas, \vhich in turn \vere regarded as forces. Moreover, the soul contained a threshold of consciousness. That \vhich crossed over this threshold \vas conscious, that \vhich lay under it was unconscious. The nlain rule \vas that strong ideas, because of their inherent strength, \vere able to force their \vay to a position over the threshold of consciousness. Psychic processes could, ho\vevcr, release individual ideas fronl the position of equilibriul1l they held relative to their strength. There \vas a constant struggle anlong ideas attenlpting to cross over the threshold of consciousness. In this struggle, strong ideas could tenlporarily be forced do\vn into the unconscious, \vhile \veak ideas could unite and beconle conscious thanks to their collective strength. Strong ideas that relnained for a longer period of time under the threshold \vere conspicuous as enlotions and desire \vithout representational content. These enlotions enabled them to fight their \vay back to consciousness. Herbart attenlpted to describe the nlathenlatical relationship bet"\veen the conscious idea and the unconscious ideas it repressed. In principle, this description paved the way for a dynamic understanding of the dependence of consciousness on the unconscious. Herbart, ho\vever, did not succeed in his endeavor partly because he relied nlore on Leibniz's nletaphysics than on concrete experience and analyses. Although Herbart is largely forgotten today, he exerted considerable influence on GernlaIl psychology in the 1800s. For exanlple, G. T. Fechner dre\v on his concept of the threshold of consciousness (see I.B.4 on psychology) . Like Herbart, Schopenhauer's pupil E. von Hartlnann (1842-1906) is kno\vn for his attempt to conceptualize the unconsciou.ci. In 1868 he published the comprehensive and at the tinle \videly read Philosophie dcs UnbelPusstcn (Philosophy of the Unconscious). In this work, von Hartnlann classified different forms of the unconscious, fronl the unconscious in physical processes to the unconscious in biological evolutionary systenls and instincts, ending \vith the psychical unconscious. Atnong the characteristics of the unconscious \vere the inability to be sick, beconle tired, doubt, or make mistakes. It could initiate actions \vith great precision, but without being conscious of the goal. On the \vhole, the impression is one of a superior, noncorporeal, and sonle\vhat nlystical intelligence, a rOlnantic attempt to hold natural la\vs responsible for a universal nletaphysical essence. Von Hartnlann's sudden fall to obscurity in Ollr century bears \vitness

34

THE HI&tORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

to the inconsistency and transient nanlre of his theories. Ho\vever, von Hartnlann's and Herbart's preoccupation \vith the unconscious might well have inspired Freud to develop just this concept.

2. PHYSICS AND BIOLOGY The scientific investigation of man \vas conducted in biology. Consequently, biology became the battleground for different vie\vs on the subject. Fronl the seventeenth cenrury onward, consciolls attempts were made to transfer the concepts of nlechanical physics to biology (for exanlple, in the description of the circulatory systenl, sensory nlotor reflexes, and muscle functions). These attenlpts formed the beginning of the modern mechanistic view of the subject. Opposed to this vie\v \vas the so-called vitalist vie\v that the living organism is fundamentally different in strucrure fronl dead nlatter. According to vitalisnl, biological la\vs differ from physical la\vs. Biological phenonlena such as reproduction and growth can never be reduced to physical or chenlical la\vs. Organic nlatter (plants, aninlals, and people, for exanlple) contains murually heterogeneous strucrures, each \vith their o\vn distinctive fearures. The conflict benveen nlechanism and vitalism is historically displaced. The nlechanists of the 1600s have much in common \vith the vitalists of the 1800s, an illustration of ho\v Inechanism gained ground at the expense ofvitalisnl. In the 1600s and the greater part of the 1700s, both mechanist~ and vitalists believed that man had a soul and that that soul \vas related h .. God. For nlechanists like Hobbes and Spinoza, ho\vever, God existed only as the first cause of all nlovenlents. When these movements \vere activated, they proceeded causally. In this schenle of things, God \vas present in equal nleasure in inorganic and organic nlatter. The aninlal spirits of living organisnls were nlaterial. They \vere gases, liquids, or the like, circulating in the body like blood and follo\ving the laws of physics. They were present in the entire body and their task \vas to receive sense impressions and initiate nluscle reactions. They could be affected by both heat and mechanical shock, and their nlovenlents corresponded to enl0tions (see the discussion of Hobbes in the section on philosophy). The vitalists believed that the soul \vas conlposed of aninlal spirits given to each individual directly by God. They \vere consequently regarded as Hspirirual" and inlnlaterial. They \vere at tinles referred to as ~'vital force" or '~life force," and functioned teleologically, not causally.

THE SUBJECT

35

The vitalists donlinated biology in the beginning of the nineteenth century, but they had, as mentioned earlier, incorporated many nlcchanistic vie\vs. Only the nlost ronlantic vitalists espousing the philosophy of nature clainled that nature \vas anilllated and sought a higher goal. Vitalists with a nlore scientific bent could agrce that the aninlal spirits \vere Inatter and could be subject to scientific investigation. They nevertheless clung to the vie\v that organic matter \vas not controlled by causal Inechanisnls, but rather by its o\vn intrinsic expediency. Furthenllore, they believed that it \vas possible to sho\v characteristics in organic Inatter totally lacking in inorganic nlatter, therefore nlaking it inlpossiblc to reduce the fornler to the latter. Exanlples uscd \vere sensibility (a characteristic of the tissue of sensory organs) and irritability (a characteristic of l11uscle tissue). The reaction against vitalisnl made itself felt in earnest at about the nliddle of the nineteenth century. Many of the concepts of vitalism were so speculative and nlctaphysical that they could be disproved with the help of empirical observations. For exanlple, proof that the animal spirits in the nerves could not be gases \vas established by holding a severed frog's leg under \vater and observing that it didn't produce any bubbles. Another exanlple can be taken fronl thc study of organic cells. In 1839, Schleiden and SCh\ValUl advanced independently of each other a cell theory for all organisms based on nlicroscopic investigations of different types of tissue. They sho\ved that all living matter-from plants to primitive aninlals to man-\vere biologically constructed by the same type of substance: cells. Sch\vann also postulated that cells were constructed as crystals and had therefore the same structure as inorganic nlatter . Theoretically, there was thus a continuous development from the sinlplest particles in nanlre to man. The success of nlcchanism \vas not completely grounded in empirical observation. There \vas a tendency to gcneralize and theorize from rather flimsy foundations. The new scientific theories, which \vere a reaction to the philosophy of nature, thus had philosophical overtones. We nl0ve now to the t\vo mechanist theories that exerted the greatest influence on naturalists for the remainder of the nineteenth century and were defended with thc greatest fanaticism. The first is Helmholtz's thcory of energy, which did away with the vital forces in all organisnls in favor of physical and chcmical forces. The second is Darwin's theory of evolution, which rejccted theories of expediency in favor of causal interpretations. Helmholtz and Darwin were both careful not to make generalizations from their theories, but their caution did not prevent their fi)llowers froln focusing exclusively

36

THE HIST.ORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

on the nlcchanistic aspects of these theories. In Freud \ve can sec a typical exanlple of this in that his fascination \vith ideas from rOlnanticisnl and the philosophy of naturc in his secondary school years was transformed into enthusiasnl for extrenle fonns of Inechanism in his university years.

(a) The Theory of the Conse11Jation ofEner;gy During industrialization, some handicrafts \vere replaced by nlachines. Part of the efficiency of these nlachines lay in their sizc. They could not be operated by people or the draught animals fornlerly used alnlost exclusively as an energy source, but \vere based on steanl energy. The first steam engines were not very efficient. Most of the energy \vas wasted, partly because the boilers were badly insulated. Gradual improvements in machine constnlCtion led to a better understanding of the value of the energy source. If coal \vere enlployed nlore efficiently, less \vould be needed. The discovery of ne\v and better energy sources \vould reduce the cost of production and increase productivity. It \vas as a result of such considerations, \vhich seenl alnlost self-evident today, that the new energy theories flourished in the nineteenth century. It \vas fornlerly assunled that "forces" in nature caused movenlent. However, these forces \vere thought to vary qualitatively. Thus thcre could be a "tension force," a "chenlical force," and special "vital forces" in man. Those proposing the industrial exploitation of different energy sources did not take these differences into account to the sanle degree. They \vanted instead to conlpare the labor capability of these energy sources, in other words, their ability to nlove a given nlass. To this end, formulas \vere \\forked out to gauge the relationship bet\veen, for example, kinetic energy, heat energy, and electric energy. Hernlann von Helnmoltz (1821-1894) is usually thought of as representing the crossroads bet\veen the old and the ne\v energy theory. In 1847 he advanced a nlathenlatical theory of the conservation of energy. This theory \vas based on the discovery that one fornl of energy could be transforIned into another according to certain rules. For exanlple, kinetic energy in a steanl engine could be achieved through the use of heat energy. Hcat energy \vas derived fronl the chenlical energy of coal, \vhich in turn canle fronl solar energy. Kinetic energy \vas usually produced from potential energy but could also be transfonned into potential energy. It \vas as

THE SUBJECT

37

if the encrgy had continued to exist in one fornl or another and could not have been used up. On the other hand, it \vas inlpossible to create energy fronl nothing. Helnlholtz thus chastised inventors \vho thought they could constnlCt a perpenlal nlotion nlachine. According to Helnlholtz, energy could neither be created nor destroyed. It could only be transfornlcd froln one fonn to another. His theory was therefore based on the proposition that energy \vas conserved in a closed systenl. Helnlholtz's theory did not solve the problenls facing industry, ho\vever. Enornlous atTIounts of energy \vere apparently still \vastcd. When coal has been consul1led and steanl has done its job, no energy renlains, becausc the nlachines have transferred their energy to the surrounding air. The air has been both set in nlotion and heated. This ne\v energy cannot once again be transfonned into labor po\ver, but expcrilnents show that this energy is as grcat as the encrgy adnlitted. This phenonlenon forms an addendunl to the principle of the conservation of energy: heat can only be transformed into nlcchanicallabor po\ver after it has been transferred fronl a \Varnler to a colder body. In a sense, it is then correct to regard the heat given off by nlachines to ~le air as wasted heat. It cannot be reused but seeps out into the atnl0sphere. Helnlholtz called all usable fornls of energy free e'lle1;gy (in the scnse of available energy) and unavailable heat energy bound elle1;gy. Helnlholtz's work \vas elaborated by a theory stating that all encrgy in the universe \vill evennlally be transformed into latent heat energy leading to the end of all movement and all fornls of lifc (the thermal death of the universe). Fechner advanced sinlilar theories based on his belief that all nlovements try to attain a state of absolutc stability (see I.B.4). Helmholtz's general theory of energy had ramifications for biology and neurophysiology. The tenlperarure of organisnls (especially the question ofho\v it \vas possible for the organislTI to nlaintain a constant tenlperarurc considerably higher than its surroundings) had long been a subject of contention among biologists. Their understanding of this phenonlcnon \vas broadened by regarding the organism as a nlachine for the transformation of energy. Food and drink served the Saine function for nlan as coal and \vater did for the steam engine. Sinlilarly, attenlpts werc Inade to juxtapose the energy of the nervous system with fornls of energy found in physical narure. Consequently, the former life of spirits and vital forces was replaced by chemical and electrical impulses. Moreover, Helnlholtz himself contributed to this field in 1850 by gauging the speed of nerve impulses \vith an electric measuring instnlment. This silTIple experinlent enabled Helmholtz to demonstrate that the nerv~ impulse did not nlove at astro-

38

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

nonlical speed, as previously thought, but at about 110 feet per second. He thus succeeded in clarifying a problenl that had been the subject of nluch speculation for centuries.

(b) The Theory ofEvolution Until about 1800 it \vas conlmonly believed that plants and animals had been created in precisely the form they had. When the remains of extinct aninlals \vere found it \vas assunled that the species in question had disappeared after a natural catastrophe, and that God had then created new variations of the same species. J. B. Lamarck (1744-1829) was one of the first scientists to assert that the species were not unchanging but had attained their current fornls by a process of evolution. According to this theory, the organism'S nlotive for development lay in the needs it sought to satisfy. Through these needs the organism developed fixed patterns of behavior adapted to its environlnent. If the environment changed, nlaking it nlore difficult for the organisnl to satisfy its needs, it adopted new patterns of behavior. In the course of several generations, these \vollld become permanent characteristics that could be inherited. The best-known example states that the giraffe has literally stretched its neck to be able to reach the green leaves on the highest treetops. For Lamarck, the use (or disuse) of any given organ determined which characteristics \vould be inherited. Lanlarck's theory can be sununarized by t\vo theses: first, that species beconle nlore highly developed as a result of an "ilmer will," and second, that acquired characteristics can be inherited. These are the t\vo theses Charles Darwin (1809-1882) rejected in his principal \vork fronl 1859 on the origin of the species and natural selection. According to Danvin's theory, an organism is only the carrier of a given heredity and that heredity is unaffected by the characteristics and abilities the organisnl nlight acquire in the course of its life. Actual changes in heredity are by contrast caused by random genetic mutations, to use contemporary ternlinology. These nlutations do not obey any fixed principle. Most result in harnl1ess changes in detail. Others are the direct cause of the death of the offspring, and only fe\v provide the organism \vith better nleans of survival than its fello\v nlenlbers of the species. This last type is crucial for the developnlent of the entire species because it determines \vhich organisnls actually survive. To take an exanlple: in a large industrial region in England, a certain type of butterfly changed color fronl speckled

THE SUBJECT

39

\vhite to coal black in the course of about one century. The white-speckled butterfly \vas originally perfectly adapted to the bark of birch trees. It \vas inlpossiblc to sec and \vas therefore safe fronl predators. Then the factories canle and their snloke and soot destroyed and blackened the bark of the birch trees. About one hundred years later, it \vas discovered that 99 percent of the butterflies in the region had black \vings. Danvinist theory proposed that the reason for this transfornlation \vas not that the species as a whole had adapted to the ne\v environnlcnt (as Lalllarck thought the necks of giraffes had adapted to reach the treetops), but rather that several black nlutations had conle into being by accident and had survived in greater nunlbers than the \vhite-speckled variant. A butterfly \vith black wings appeared accidentally and l11anaged to survive. In the struggle for survival, organisnls best able to adapt under any given condition survive, \vhile those \vho cannot, die out. As nlentioned above, Oanvin rejected not only Lanlarck's theory that acquired characteristic~ \vere inherited, but his theory of the expediency of developnlent as \vell. This point is especially il11portant in connection with human evolution. According to Lanlarck's theory, man undergoes a progressive evolution toward ever greater perfectibility or toward an ever greater control of nature by an inner will. Oanvin refused to accept such a principle of evolution. For hinl, l11an's evolution was exclusively regulated by natural selection and the survival of the fittest. Evolution had no goal, but \vas determined by the blind chance of nlutation, perhaps in harmony \vith changes in the environnlent. This theory is based on causality, not teleology (in other \vords, causal relations, not expedient relations). The scope of the debate raised by Darwinism can be better understood by adding to this theory Oanvin's teaching on the descent of man, that is, the direct chain of evolution from prehistoric apes to nlodern man. This theory of nlan totally eliminated the humane as a self-evident ainl and principle, and lumped man together with anilTIals. In Germany, evolutionary theory became especially popular in Ernst Haeckel's version. In 1866, Haeckel advanced the theory that ontogeny reproduced phylogeny, in other \vords, that a picture of the evolution of the human race from the first protoplaslTI could be attained by snldying the development of a fertilized egg cell. This theory of recurrence has often been found in philosophy, for exal11plc, in Hegel, illustrating that nanlral science and philosophy had not yet become two distinct fields at that time. Another German Darwinist \vas August Weisnlann, who formulated a theory of heredity based on Darwin in the 1880s. In this theory, he

40

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

ditlerentiated bet"\veen gernl plasnla and sonlatic plasnla, germ plasma being the hereditary material and sOlnatic plasnla the remaining cells in the body, \vhich were generated by gernl plasnla in every new organism. Germ plasma ,vas theoretically inlmortal. All inherited characteristics \vere transnlitted fronl the gernl plasnla to the sonlatic plasma, but characteristics acquired by sonlatic plaslna could not be transmitted to the gernl plasnla. Acquired characteristics that appeared through the influence of the envirOlIDlent \vere caused by the direct influence of germ plasma. A good example of this is nl0dern-day uranium radiation \vhich measurably affects heredity. Particularly in France and Gernlany, an inverted theory of evolution gained popularity. This \vas the so-called degeneration theory advanced by B. A. Morel in 1857. Degeneration was defined as inherited corporal or spiriulal dissolution, which was steadily progressive if degenerates internlarried. The first generation had perhaps only nervous symptoms, the second hysteria or epilepsy, the third psychoses, the fourth idiocy, after which the family died out. Degeneration was thought to have been caused by alcohol and narcotics abuse, venereal disease, and even nlasturbation. Signs of degeneration appeared not only in the mind, but also in the body, for exanlple, deformity of the cranium, deformed sexual organs, and clubfoot. According to degeneration theory, these signs could appear not only among the insane but also anlong criminals. Degeneration theory \vas particularly popular in psychiatry (see LB.S) and served obvious moral, educational, and racial hygienic aims: people were frightened into leading nlore moral lives when the causes for degeneration were made known. Modern genetics has not been able to prove a single aspect of degeneration theory. It can therefore be concluded that this theory lacks any real foundation.

3. NEUROPHYSIOLOGY AND NEUROANATOMY Research on the nervous systenl nlade considerable progress during the first decades of the nineteenth cenrury. An important discovery found that sensory nerve paths (fronl the sense organ to the spinal cord) were anatomically separate fronl motor nerve paths (fronl the spinal cord to the muscle). It \vas previously believed that reflexes nloved back and forth along the sanle path. Scientists then started to investigate \vhich functions \vere carried out by the separate parts of the nervous systenl. The results of

THE SUBJECT

41

surgical operations on live experinlcntal aninlals confirnled that some functions \vere destroyed, \vhile others remained intact. The lnissing function nlust therefore have been located in that part of the nervous system that had been injured or renloved. We \vill not d\vell on this point, but surely everyone kno\vs the exanlple of the headless chicken that continues to run around for a tinle after decapitation. In 1834-1840, Johannes Muller \vrote a comprehensive textbook on human physiology that gives a good idea of the state of neurophysiology in the early nineteenth century. It summarized previous research in the field and remained an influential textbook for the rest of the century. Sch\vann, du Bois-Reymond, and Helmholtz \vere students of Muller's, and Freud is kno\vn to have studied his textbook. His personal copy of Muller's book is filled \vith nlarginal notes. MUller divided the human central nervous systenl anatomically and physiologically into three parts. This division, \vith certain modifications, \vas retained until the end of the century. Muller used this division to describe the different paths of reflex through the nervous system. The simplest form of reflex traveled from a sense organ to the spinal cord and from the spinal cord to a muscle. This reflex probably involved a sensation, but not consciousness, and elapsed automatically. The second kind of reflex \vas more complex, and contained nvo separate reflexes: the simple spinal cord reflex \ve have just described, and, in addition, an impulse sent from the spinal cord to the anatomical locality called the medulla oblongata, \vhere conscious sensation occurred. Ho\vever, this reflex had no function per se and did not result in memory of any kind. The spinal cord reflex occurred in the same manner \vith or \vithout sensory consciousness. According to Muller, if you burned your finger by accident, you sensed the pain at the same time that you removed your finger fronl the fire. In other \vords, it \vas not the pain that made you take your finger a\vay from the fire. Ho\vever, Muller also believed that the medulla oblongata had an inhibitory and regulatory influence on the spinal marro\v reflexes, for example, by attending to the functions of the internal organs, but \vithout sensory consciousness. The regulation \vas unconscious and automatic like the spinal cord reflex. This apparent contradiction could be explained in the follo\ving manner: the medulla oblongata normally functioned unconsciously, and sensory consciousness only occurred \vhen the sensory impulses \vere particularly strong or \vhen the internal organs began to function irregularly. Sensory consciousness caused an inlpulse to be sent to the cerebral hemispheres \vhich then dealt \vith the problem.

42

..

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

According to Muller, this third process \vas not a reflex. Sensation \vas \vorked on in the cerebral hemispheres in light of previous experience. Memories \vere found here, thought took place here, and genuine consciousness of perception occurred here. Ho\vever, Muller allo\ved room for free \vill, \vhich in the last analysis determined the reaction to sensory impulses. When the decision had been made, the impulse \vas sent back to the medulla oblongata, \vhich then implemented the reaction via the spinal cord. As \ve \vill see, neurophysiologists after Muller also tended to conceive of the movement of an impulse through the cerebral hemispheres as a reflex (albeit a very complex one). Milller paved the \vay for their mechanism \vithout completely embracing it himself, and he is therefore sometimes regarded as the last great vitalist. In light of our interpretation, we can summarize Muller's concept \vith a simple model. S represents the sensory impulses from the sense organs and M the motor impulses to the muscles. The path through the cerebral cerebral hemispheres

medulla oblongata

s

spinal cord

M )

hemispheres is not completed in order to make room for the intervention of free \vill. We \vill no\v treat the problem of the localization of psychic characteristics in the brain and the problem of the placement of instincts and affects in nvo subsections.

(a) Reflex and Localization During the nineteenth century there \vas a gradual rapprochement benveen neurophysiology and associationist psychology. Associationist psychology held that the psyche contained simple sense elements that combined and associated to forn1 complex ideas and thought processes. This vie\v seemed to encourage a spatial or topical approach. The simple elen1ents of memory could be perceived as points joined by \veaker or stronger connecting lines,

THE SUBJECT

43

,vhere the strong connecting lines corresponded to common associations such as causal relations or subject/predicate rclations. Although not part of official theory, these structures \vere perceived to be spatially located in the brain, in other \vords, a kind of cerebral localization. In the 1850s, the associationist psychologist Alexander Bain hinted that the reflex model could also be applied to cerebral processes. He believed that a thought process resulting in an action had to travel from a number of sensory elen1ents to an idea of the action to be performed. Once an individual had sensed his o\vn movement, the sensation could become an element of memory and as such be repeated or associated \vith other elements. Bain thought that it \vas these kinds of representations of movements that directed motor impulses emanating from the brain. Griesinger, Laycock, Setcheno"r, and others also maintained that the reflex model applied to the brain as \vell. Consequently, the next question \vas where and ho\v individual representations and functions \vere located in the brain. The first significant empirical result came in 1861, \-vhen Paul Broca announced that he had located the speech center in the left frontal lobe of the left hemisphere of the brain. The evidence was gathered from a patient \vho had become n1ute at an early age. An autopsy revealed that his brain had suffered marked destruction of the left frontal lobe. Ho\vever, similar findings \-vere seldom forthcoming, because investigations could only be conducted on persons \vith injuries in specific areas of the brain (such as bullet \vounds, knife \vounds, or brain tumors), and could only be con1pleted after their death. The most important contributions to the theory of localization came therefore from experiments with vivisection and electrical stimulation of animal brains. In 1870, Fritsch and Hitzig found the motor zone in the brain of a dog, and they demonstrated ho\v specific muscles could be activated by stimulating different areas of this zone. These experiments \vere conducted in the expectation that one day all human psychic functions could be located, thereby reducing man to a neurophysiological machine. Work in this field was usually carried out on the basis of a topical model of the cerebral cortex encompassing ( 1) sensory centers for individual sensations (including muscle sensations), (2) motor centers for the contraction of muscles, and (3) association areas connecting these centers \vith each other. Localization theory \vas especially popular at German universities, and it is note\vorthy that Freud's teacher and later bitter rival Theodor Meynert \vas one of its most prominent advocates. He \vas particularly known for his concept of projection, \vhich held that the sensory and motor nerves of the body in the cerebral cortex actually dre\v

44

..

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

a distorted picture of the body, a homunculus, the proportions of \vhich correspond to nerve density (big tongue, small feet, and so forth). Ho\vever, localization theory could not survive in the form \ve have just sketched. To\vard the end of the century, it became increasingly clear that the significance of the scope of association had been underestimated. A closer study of the synlptonls of brain-danlaged individuals revealed that a single lesion usually resulted in partial damage to several different functions and not-as the theory had predicted-the total elimination of a single function. The reason for this was that the sensorimotor reflex did not follo\v a single path in its nlovenlent through the brain, but \vas scattered a.tllong the association areas in an extremely diffuse manner. An association between nvo ideas (in a psychological sense) could therefore not simply be equated \vith the course of a nerve inlpulse between nvo delimited cell groups. However, it \vas long before an alternative dynamic localization theory \vas accepted. Even though a neuropathologist critical oflocalization theory, John Hughlings Jackson (1835-1911), had already in the 1870s fonnulated such a theory, it \vas not recognized internationally until the 1920s and 1930s. Jackson defied the dominant theories of the fin de siecie period, and only fe\v appreciated the scope of his ideas. Freud \vas one \vho did. He had read several of Jackson's articles and used arguments inspired by Jackson in his critique of localization theory (see V .A). Although Jackson, like his competitors, employed the reflex concept, he did not believe that every single corporal or psychic function could have a separate reflex path traveling in principle independently of all other paths. His alternative nlodel consisted of a hierarchy of reflex centers \vhose construction follo\ved genetic development. According to this model, the lo\vest and least complex reflex centers are established at an early stage in the developnlent of the nervous system, \vhile the highest and most complex never really stop developing, but are extended at the same time that ne\v ktlo\vledge a.tld ne\v capabilities are assinlilated. Within this hierarchy, the higher reflex centers donlinate the lo\ver in such a \vay as to inlpede and regulate their functions. For exanlple, in hunlan development it is possible that the sensation and nlovenlent of a finger at a given stage of development nlight occur above a lo\ver center in the spinal cord. At a later stage of developnlcnt, this reflex is integrated into the reflex of the hand, \vhich is then subjected to the control of a higher center. The functions of the ha.tld are integrated into the functions of the ann in the same \vay, and the developlnent continues until all (voluntary) nlovenlents are controlled fronl the conical centers of the brain. Consequently, there is no nerve path in

45

THE SUBJECT

the brain that alone deterlnines the reflex of a single finger. The functions of the finger are controlled froln several different centers sinlultaneously. Ho\vever, the cortical centers control the spinal cord centers. Taking his inspiration fronl Danvin and especially Herbert Spenccr, Jackson called the progressive course of devclopnlcnt of the nervous systenl c]Jolutioll and used the ternl dissolution (corresponding to the terms dC1Jolution and illPolution used by other theorists) to describe thc opposite course of developnlent, \vhere the functions of the higher centers \vere suspended and control of nlan \vas transferred to the lo\vcr centers. Jackson thus noted that \vhen the brain \vas darnaged, functions learned at a late stage of devdopnlent \vere alnlost ahvays lost, \vhile functions learned early renlained intact for the longest period. Severely enfceblcd old people becanle as children again. They lost the ability to coordinate thcir actions and remember events from the distant past better than recent events.

(b) Instinct) Drive) and Affect Associationist psychology \vas relatively easily assinlilated into neurophysiology. Ho\vever, this was not the case \vith dynanuc psychology, which dealt \vith motivation. To be sure, nlotivation could be integrated into reflex theory: external stinlulation could motivate flight, for example, \vhile internal stinlulation could motivate satisfaction of needs. The only problenl \vas that reflexes developing from needs could not be demonstrated empirically. It \vas not kno\vn how the internal organs of the body influenced the nervous system or \vhy the nervous system rcacted as it did to stinlulation. In attempting to answer the latter question, neurophysiologists employcd the tenets of philosophical hedonism, which held that the affects-and in the last analysis pleasure and unpleasure-\vere the motivating factors. However, not much \vas known about the neurophysiological causes of these affects. As a rule, affect \vas placcd sonlc\vherc in the nliddlc of the nerve path and \vas not thought to have any independent ability to sever or deflect a reflex. The deternlining factor for affect lay in internal stimulation itself and in an abstract assumption that the function of the nervous system was to ensure the survival of the organism. By striving for pleasure and avoiding unpleasure, the nervous systenl also provided for the satisfaction of nceds and a correct rcaction to the dangers of the world as \vell as an opportunity for achicving satisfaction. The difficulties underlying academic rcsearch into ITIotivation caused

46

THE HI.S.TORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

many nineteenth-ccnrury neurophysiologists simply to avoid the issue. Muller thus openly admitted his ignorance of the subject. However, a sn1aller group of neurophysiologists constructed hypothetical models of motivation without recourse to en1pirical verification. They often used such terms as instinct, need, drive, affect, en10tion, and feeling. We \vill in the follo\ving attempt to describe son1e of these theories, emphasizing those k.t10\Vn to Freud. We have divided these theories into nvo groups: instinct theories and drive theories. Ho\vever, they are not necessarily murually exclusive; a person can have both instincts and drives. The founders of Inodern evolutionary theory, Danvin and Spencer, were typical exponents of instinct theory. They claimed not only continuity in the development of animals and hUlnans, but continuity in physical characteristics as \vell. It \vas unacceptable to regard anin1al behavior as detern1ined by reflexes and hun1an behavior as detern1ined by the \vill as Descartes and many others had done. In reality, animal and hun1an behavior could be regarded as a continuum ranging from simple spinal reflexes and relatively con1plex reflexes, \vhich Spencer identified as instincts, to the n10st complex reflexes comprising the will. The differencc benveen instincts and the \vill \vas that the fonner \vere innate and the latter \vas acquired. It had long been recognized that an entire animal species exhibited the san1C instinctive behavior regardless of environmental influences. For example, several fish from the san1e species could be placed in different envirolID1ents along \vith other species of fish. In spite of the change in environment, they retained all the typical behavioral feanlres of their species such as feeding habits; nest building, care of offspring, and the like. Since they could not learn this behavior by observing other fish, their behavior had to be innate. The theory was that the species retained or further developed the san1e reflex paths through heredity. Every one of the species had the same paths running fron1 the sense organs and internal organs of the anin1als to the active n1uscles, and they therefore reacted in the same \vay. They could not act othenvise. Instincts \vere characterized by auton1atic, involuntary reactions. In 1872, Danvin \vrote a book on en10tions in anin1als and n1aI1. He clailned that en10tions \vere purely secondary attributes of instincts. Danvin \vas not interested in the subjective side of emotions, but rather in their objective expression, for cxan1ple, sn1iling, blushing, fro\vning, and crying. A rather prin1itive neurophysiological n10del based on Muller's textbook \vas used for theoretical background: the sense organs aI1d the internal organs stin1ulated the nervous systen1, creating nervous energy. This ner-

THE SUBJECT

47

energy then traveled through prefabricated paths until it caused an expedient reaction, such as flight, attack, or approach. Surplus nervous energy \vas produced in especially enlbarrassing situations. This nervous energy had to abreact in the closest nerve paths, and since facial Inuscles \vere closest to the eyes and ears, enlotional expression \volIld ahnost ahvays produce facial reactions. There \vere special facial nluscles for, for exalnple, laughter and sorro\v. In the course of phylogenesis, the instincts might lose their original function because higher centers in the nervous systeln \vould incorporate their functions. Ho\vever, they \vere sometimes retained as superfluous enl0tional expressions. For exalnple, dra\ving the lips back froln the teeth as an expression of anger and aggression \vas a superfluous holdover fronl the tinle \vhen our aninlal ancestors prepared to attack or bite their opponents in sinlilar situations. Metaphorically speaking, the history of nlan could be subjected to archeological sUldy by observing facial expressions. While instinct theories explored inherited instincts typical of species, drive theories focused on individually acquired impulses of will, that is, those reflexes passing through cerebral henlispheres whose course was determined by its experiences there. Drive theories were especially well represented at German universities. Even though Gernlan neurophysiologists generally accepted Darwin's theory of evolution, they did not believe that man \vas supposed to be equipped with innate instincts to any great degree. In principle, man entered the world as a tabula rasa. He \vas helpless at birth and unlike animals could not inlmediately fend for himself. Only the lo\ver reflexes were innate, but they did not guarantee survival. Drives \vere also innate, but they compelled \vithout pointing in anyone direction (today \ve would refer to drives as corporal needs). Lotze (1852) pointed out that hunger and thirst were not originally drives for nourishment, but rather feelings of discomfort appearing when the internal organs of an organisnl transferred stimulation to the nervous system in a situation of want. Only when hunger and thirst were satisfied was an association made between discomfort and ideas about the object of satisfaction and the necessary muscle reaction. While this association was a reflex, it could be substituted by new reflexes and was therefore not as rigid as innate instincts. Drive was only determined by the functions of internal organs and a spectrum of external objects able to fulfill these functions. In accordance with this view, Lotze used the nornlal and regular functions of the body to characterize the elnotions. Processes pronl0ting the health of the body were felt as pleasure, while those disulrbing health VOllS

48

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

\vere felt as unpleasure. It was clear that there \vas a connection between nervous tension and unpleasure on the one hand and relaxation and pleasure on the other. Ho\vever, Lotze did not believe that this connection should be overly stressed. First, unpleasure could arise from loss of energy, because equilibrium of tension \vas the norm for the organism. Second, emotions ahvays possessed specific qualities depending on which external objects pronl0ted or disnlrbed life functions. In summary, Lotze did not come nluch further than Hobbes had a couple of centuries before. Their psychological nlodels have striking similarities (see LB.1). Meynert (1884) elaborated and clarified several of Lotze's views. Furthermore, he rejected the idea that man \vas equipped with instincts in the sense of "innate reflexes," and he thus contributed to a shift in interest from phylogeny to ontogeny. Meynert believed psychic reactions in children originally consisted of several wholly uniform reflexes. Pain caused a primary reflectory defense action, \vhile the sight of a nipple caused an attack action. These n.vo actions were the sources of unpleasure and pleasure respectively. The original reflexes \vere transferred to the cerebral cortex as nlenl0ry traces, which allowed the nlore subtle reflexes of thought. Original enlotions of pleasure and unpleasure were here represented as affects defined as "emotions without bodily pain." In other words, even the thought of objects able to arouse emotions could influence thought as affects. Moreover, Meynert believed that there was a physiological connection ben.veen inhibition and unpleasure on the one hand, and the free release of tension and pleasure on the other. He gave as an example a botanist \vho found a strange plant. The botanist instinctively attempted to classify the plant in his botanical systenl. This attempt \vas accompanied by different "nloods." If a characteristic of the plant could be classified, association \vas inhibited, causing unpleasure. Ho\vever, if it succeeded, the course of association \vas free, thus causing pleasure. It should be noted that Meynert divided the central nervous system into cortex and subcortex. The subcortex nlanaged the blind impulses of need in the body (and represented the evil and egoistical in nlan). Acquired characteristics (the good and social in man) \vere developed in the cortex. Through this developnlent, first a prinlary and then a secondary self \vere fornled. The prinlary self \vas the nucleus of the individual and consisted of ideas of the individual's body. Ho\vever, the prilnary self \vas \veak and passive and lacked the ability to inlpede the impulses of need. The secondary self consisted of ideas reproducing the outside \vorld, through \vhich active

THE SUBJECT

49

inhibition \vas Inade possible. Individuality \vas defined as the sunl of all association paths benveen stabile iinages of nlenlory. This Slun also conlprised individual character. Not all neurophysiologists nlade a clear distinction benveen instinct and drive. Bastian (1880) and Exner (1894) atteInpted to conlbine the nvo. Although they valued the \vork of Spencer and Danvin, they recognized that hunlan behavior could not ahvays be explained on the basis of speciesspecific behavioral patterns. They therefore placed instincts in the reflex paths in the spinal cord and the Inedulla oblongata, where they fulfilled goals acquired by phylogeny, \vhile letting drives and needs construct reflex paths in the cortex, \vhere they enabled the individual to adapt to particular circunlstances of life. The subject \vas thus under the s\vay of a conflict benveen the instincts and reason fOrIned on the basis of the drives. However, reason usually enlerged victorious fronl this conflict. It was difficult to give a precise definition of reason. Apart fronl the nlere ability to think and associate, a kind of biological conmlon sense and expediency were also apparent. The liberalistic concept of the subject, \vith its conflict benveen enlotion and reason, reappeared under the guise of the nlechanistic concept of the subject. In discussing affects or enl0tions, Exner introduced the theory of special enlotional centers whose function was to adapt incoining stimulations in such a \vay so that consciousness \vould experience thein as specific enlOtions. Unlike Lotze and Meynert, Exner believed that pleasure and unpleasure \vere not dependent on the inhibition of tension, but only on \vhether the paths led to the center of pleasure or that of unpleasure. Most aninlal species had acquired through phylogeny a path fronl the sexual organs to the center of pleasure, \vhich promoted sexual activity. In conclusion, it can be noted that both Exner and Bastian divided instincts into three groups: (I) instincts of self-preservation (nourishinent, protection of the individual), (2) sexual instincts (procreation, care of the young), and (3) social and moral instincts. Because localization of the reflex paths as well as the sources of their stimulation in the organisin caused insurnl0untable difficulties, it is understandable that Inany other writers exaggerated the use of instincts and drives. Scientists invented all sorts of instincts and drives to explain visible behavior with the result that their theoretical hypotheses ended by explaining nothing.

50

THE HISrORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

4. PSYCHOLOGY We will open this section by discussing sonle of the factors that contributed to the development of psychology as an independent branch of science. We can then distinguish scientific psychology from philosophical psychology and neurophysiological psychology, \vhich we have already examined. Philosophical psychologists such as Locke, Hume, and Herbart called thenlselves enlpiricists. Herbart \vent so far as to attempt to separate psychology fronl philosophy as an independent elTIpirical discipline. I-Ie did not succeed, partly because he linlited his field of research to isolated striking and easily recognizable exanlplcs taken from self-observation. Neurophysiological psychology developed scientific methods in vivisection, nlicroscopy, electrostimulation, chenlical stimulation, and so forth. The problenl here \vas explaining psychical phenomena as neurophysiological processes. The closest neurophysiological psychology came to a satisfactory explanation was in incorporating k.rl0\Vn psychical phenomena in the neurophysiological reflex path running through the brain. Gustav Theodor Fechner (1801-1887) is conunonly associated with the development of scientific psychology. Like Herbart, he insisted that psychology deal \vith data given by consciousness, instead of attempting to translate these data into neurophysiological ternlS. But he subjected the data as best he could to procedures developed in the namral sciences. He organized the data he collected systematically, used people and complex nleasuring instrunlents in his experiments, and attempted to calculate margins of error and take them into account. Fechner made psychology experimental. Fechner \vas a very versatile scientist. In the course of his academic career, he nlanaged to specialize in neurophysiology, physics, mathematics, philosophy, and aesthetics as \vell as psychology and became a professor in several of these subjects. His contribution to psychology rests primarily on his so-called theory of psychophysics (published in book form in 1860). Ho\vever, Freud \vas also influenced by his more philosophically minded ideas on the pleasure principle and the principle of the tendency to\vard stability . No examination of the developnlent of psychology \vould be conlplete \vithout nlentioning Wilhelnl Wundt (1832-1920), \vho more than any-

51

THE SUBJECT

one \vas instnlnlental in disseillinating the snldy of experinlental psychology at the end of the nineteenth cennu),. Wundt systeillatized experinlents by creating a university l11ilicu for psychology, and he taught the entire generation of psychologists \vho becanle leaders in the field in Gernlany, England, and the United States at the close of the nineteenth century. Ho\vever, Freud characteristically knc\v very little of experinlental psychology. He rcnlained an adnlirer of Fechner all his life, but had little sYlllpathy for Wundt and his follo\vers. Freud's adilliration for Fechner \vas certainly based for the nlost part on Fechner's versatility and philosophical perspective. We \vill atteillpt to illustrate the scope of Fechner's \vork by exanlining his psychophysics and his theory of regulatory principles.

(a) Psychophysics As already nlentioned, Fechner \vas the first to conlplete an experinlental study of psychical phenomena \vithout referring back to neurophysiology. In describing his \\lork, he focused on the psychophysical problelTI in philosophy, that is, the relationship benveen soul and body, and sought a scientific solution to this dilenlnla. Hc could not accept the traditional conflict benveen idealism and nlaterialisnl, and believed instead that soul and body \vere nvo aspects of the same-not holding one aspect as nlore real than the other-just as a circle observed frolll the inside looks different from a circle observed from the outside, even ifit is the sanle circle. Fechner explicitly agreed \vith \vhat is kno\vn in philosophy as the 'identity hypothesis,' but apparently he did not believe that soul and body possessed 'identity.' He believed the psychical and the physical ran parallel to each other, and consequently the theory can be regarded as part of psychophysical parallelism. Fechner divided psychophysics into two parts: internal psychophysics \vas concerned with \vhat \ve normally regard as a psychophysical relation, that is, the direct relationship benveen consciousness and its corollary in the nervous system; external psychophysics explored the relationship benveen external stimulation and the sense perception it excited in consciousness. These two aspects of psychophysics can be described in the follo\ving reflex model:

52

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

the psychical:

sensation (5)

I

.L--_-----',

//

the physical:

~

,....----ex-t-er-na-:-I------,/ stimulation (R)

~

IT

tensional processes in the nervous system (E)

'

,

~~Ir---re-a-ct-io-n---' _

We use the abbreviations R (Reiz) for stinl ulation, S (Sinnesempfindung) for sensation and E (Erregung) for tension or tensional processes in the nervous system. Internal psychophysics thus deals \vith the relationship bet\veen E and S} \vhile external psychophysics deals with the relationship bet\veen R and S. Reflexive nlotor reactions play no role in Fechner's expenments. Let us first exanline external psychophysics. In his \vork in this field, Fechner \vas influenccd by E. H. Weber, who had conducted various investigations into ho\v little differences in stinlulation the senses are able to register. For exanlple, if you put your finger into 10 0 e \vater, ho\v much nlust the tenlperature be increased before you feel a difference? Every time a difference is registered, a threshold of stinlulation is transgressed. Weber claimed that these thresholds of stinlulation for a given sense organ formed a quotient series} that is, the next unit in the serics could be deternlined by nlultiplying it by the Sanle factor. To take a hypothetical eXanlple, if you could feel that the \vater \vere \Varnler at 12°, the constant factor would be 1.2 (because 12 is 10 tinles 1.2) and the next difference thresholds \vould therefore be at 14.4°, 17.3°, 20.7°, and so forth. Fechner inlproved upon Weber's cxperinlcnts and \vorked \vith the sensation of \veight, distance bet\veen lines, light intensity, sound intensity, and the like. As a physicist, he \vas a\vare of the conditions necessary for the precise measurenlent and nlanipulation of these sources of stimulation. Ho\vever, he did not possess a standard for sensations. Only t\vo factors could be accurately nleasured: (1) \vhether stinlulations resulted in sensations, and (2) \vhether one sensation \vas greater, cqual to, or snlaller than another. Fechner thereforc chose to use the nunlber of successive difference thresholds as a measure of sensation. At the bottonl \vas the absolute threshold, \vhere a sensation \vas first registercd by consciousness (for exanlple, the sensation of sound and light). Next canlC a scries of diffcrencc thresholds \vith the nunlerical valucs 1, 2, 3, and so on. The distancc bct\veen t\vo successive thrcsholds \vas assunlcd to be cqual. This scale then fornlcd a difference series. It ,vas thcn possible to coordinate extcrnal stinluli (R) \vith sensations (S). R. values fornlcd a quotient scries \vhcn S values fornled a diffcrence

53

THE SUBJECT

series. The conlnl0n equation in external psychophysics was thus (because a function that converts a quotient series to a difference series is called a logarithnlic function in l11athenlatics): 5 = k 10gR. In other \vords, the quantity of a sensation (5) could be calculated as a constant (k) tinles the logarithnl of the quantity of external stinlulation (R). The constant expressed the sensitivity of the sense organ. When the quotient series increased "slo\\'ly," sensitivity \vas relatively great (small differences could be felt), \vhile sensitivity \vas less the faster the quotient series increased. External psychophysics \vas the prerequisite for internal psychophysics, \vhich Fechner usually regarded as the nlore inlportant of the t'\vo. In internal psychophysics, the problenl \vas finding the relationship between conscious phenonlena and psychophysical tensional processes in the nervous systeln, that is, finding the unktl0\Vn nliddle link, E) in relation to R and 5) \vhich \vere already ktlO\Vn. Fechner solved this problem by claiming that the relationship bet\veen external stinlulations and the tensional processes of the brain \vere proportional because one physical nlediwll transferred vibrations to another. It followed that the equation for internal psychophysics \vas, like external psychophysics, logarithnlic. The only difference \vas the constant:

5

= k' logE.

This result \vas perhaps not particularly interesting in and of itself, but the problem did bring Fechner to a nluch nl0re interesting discussion of cerebral localization. At first, Fechner denied that consciousness could be located at one central point in the brain. He gave Inany examples of such a localization, Descartes's localization of the soul in the pineal gland being the most well kno\vn. Fechner's rejection of localization was partly based on the experimental fact that a sensory consciousness was part of the medulla oblongata, while consciousness of thought \vas a part of the cerebral cortex. He concluded that the nervous systenl \vas a whole nlade up of murually limited parts. Nevertheless, he probably believed that with time a relatively precise localization of consciousness could be deternlined, because consciousness appeared in those areas of the nervous systeln where the psychophysical tensional process (E) exceeded the absolute threshold of consciousness. Tensional value was a result of \vave Inovements in the nervous system. There was a basic wave for sleep and the waking state and

54

THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

a n10re superficial \vave connected to the intensity of sense in1pressions. These t\vo \vaves could be con1bined in different \vays so that they either in1peded or strengthened each other. When the basic \vave (or the subwave as Fechner called it) reached its zenith in one part of the nervous system, it \vould reach the nadir in another part and vice versa. The wave theory can be illustrated by Fechner's concept of the psychology of dreams. Dreat11 consciousness \vas not merely a \veakencd version of \vakened consciousness that appeared as a result of a lo\vering of the level of tension. Even if one closed one's eyes and relaxed, one retained one's rational consciousness because it had its o\vn anatomical place in the nervous systen1. Rational consciousness only disappeared when the level of tension fell belo\v the threshold of consciousness, \vhich normally occurred in sleep. Drean1 consciousness then resulted, because the tensional \vave (subwave) had been displaced to another anaton1ical system whose threshold of consciousness it transgressed. As Fechner put it, dreams occllrred on mother scene of action (Schauplatz). Thus the spatially or topically separated parts of the nervolls system set different rules for conscious processes. Drean1 rules \vere sinlilar to consciousness in children or primitive n1at1. Indeed, Fechner compared the transition from \vaking consciousness to dreaming consciousness \vith the trmsition fron1 city to country (from culture to nature): in the city one \valked down straight streets along numbered houses, \vhile in the country one could \vander freely. There \vere also t\vo different \vays of living in the city md the country. Although it was possible to adapt, it \vas impossible to live a country \vay of life in the n1iddle of a city. Only the creative artist who could invent an entire fat1tasy \vorld in his \vaking consciousness was able to adapt in this \vay.

(b) The Pleasure Principle and the Principle of the Tendency TO'ward Stability Fechner turned to religion after an extended emotional crisis lasting fron1 1840-1843 (in other \vords n1any years before his \vork on psychophysics), and he atten1pted to con1bine religious n1etaphysics \vith natural science. In the 1840s, he \vrote extensively about a universal principle containing the tnlth as \vell as salvation: the pleasure principle. Fechner exan1ined this principle in a book fron1 1846 on "the highest good" and in a shorter article frol11 1848 on "the pleasure principle of action."

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Superficially, the pleasure principle was identical to the hedonistic principle that man acted to achieve pleasure and avoid unpleasure. However, Fechner believed that he superseded classical hedonisnl by not positing the goal as the decisive factor~ but rather the aillount of pleasure and unpleasure contained in each single thought: a soldier could die for his country without achieving pleasure or re\vard. The question \vas \vhether ideas such as loyalty and heroisnl \vere so pleasurable for hilll that they could control his actions. It is difficult to feel that Fechner's concept added anything new to the \vork of philosophers like Hobbes, H unle, and Herbart. Like Herbart, Fechner allowed the affects to be constantly bound by thoughts. Like Hobbes, he allo\ved these affects to be based on experience, and like all three philosophers he calculated the resulting will fronl the diverse forces connected to the individual thoughts. The sinlilarity \vith Herbart is apparent in another sense as \vell. Fechner conceived of a kind of unconscious consideration: A person did not make a conscious decision on all the pleasurable and unpleasurable thoughts agitating for or against a particular action. Decision nlaking often took place by itself without involving consciousness, as \vhen an artist after \vhat seenled to be a sudden inlpulse added a brush stroke to his canvas. In reality, this sudden impulse was made up of innumerable small nlotives arising from the artist's perception of his nl0tif, his ktl0\vledge of the technique of other artists, and his state of nlind at the time. Fechner's considerations were based on the concept that pleasure and unpleasure could in some way be assigned the same standard. The only problenl \vas that it \vas difficult to compare the pleasure contained in, for exanlple, a good meal, the perception of a work of art, the "yes" of a loved one, and the achievement of honor. There was no quantitative scale to determine \vhich one of these experiences afforded the greatest pleasure. This might be the reason why Fechner abandoned \vork on the pleasure principle for a period and instead preoccupied hilnself with psychophysics, \vhich, as we have seen, \vas better able to be measured quantitatively. Fechner did not resume work on the pleasure principle until the 1870s, and when he did~ he conducted his sttldies in an abstract philosophical context. The nineteenth century had \vitnessed Inany different evolutionary theories encompassing many fields and many divergent perceptions of the course of evolution. Some saw perfection and salvation ahead; others saw death and destruction. Fechner considered Darwin and Helmholtz to be pessimists because of their mechanistic and materialistic views. He considered these views with his own religiolls optinlisnl in books such as Einigc

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THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

Ideen zur Schiipfungs- ulld EntlVicklullgsgeschichte der Ot;ganismell (1873) and Die Tagesa1'lsicht gegelliiber der Nachta1'lsicht (1879), whose titles alone

bear \vitness to his wideranging interests. Man, society, even the entire universe \vere, in Fechner's vie\v, moving to\vard a final stability. Absolute stability would be the state \vhere all movement in the universe had ceased and energy had reached the lo\vest possible level of tension. This concept \vas obviously inspired by thermodynamics and its theory of the thermic death of the universe. Fechner placed full stability on a lo\ver level. The term full stability described a condition of regularly recurring movements. This stability set the norm for most processes, even though it \vas only a stop on the \vay to\vard absolute stability. Full stability had not yet been realized in any system, but all movements could be said to be controlled by a tendency toward stability, appearing n10st lucidly in the regular movements of celestial bodies and the regular functions of organisms. In keeping with these assumptions, Fechner called his principle the principle of the tendency to\vard stability. The pleasure principle \vas no\v regarded as a special instance of this principle, because there \vas a tendency in the \vorld to increase the amount of pleasure and decrease the amount of unpleasure. As early as 1825, Fechner had proposed an evolutionary theory stating that the human species \vould soon gro\v \vings and become angels. This optimism reappeared in the ne\v theory, \vhere, for example, the pleasure principle was directly perceived to be attainable in the gradually improving and more ordered social conditions. Stability did not bring death and destruction, but eternal bliss. Fechner had a vision that phenomena such as repetition, time, regularity, stability, fluctuation, wave, harmony, and rhythm \vere common to everything in the universe, from the regularities in the oscillations of a sound \vave to the regularity of the movement of the planets around the sun. Such interdisciplinary and universal theories were very popular at the time. We have already mentioned E. von Hartmann's theory of the unconscious, and \ve could also point out that Ewald Hering, \vho at one time \vorked \vith Freud's friend Josef Breuer, tried to discover a general connection benveen repetition and memory. Another friend of Freud's Wilhelm Fliess exploited the concept of time in a universal (and almost astrological) theory. As \ve shall see, even Freud \vas not averse to these kinds of speculations. J

"

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THE SUBJECT

5. PSYCHIATRY Most cultures dra\v a line benveen reason and nladness. On the one side lie rules and thoughts defining a given social conmlunity as a totality. On the other side lies everything regarded as insane and incomprehensi ble, \vhich cannot be placed in this totality. Prinlitive societies often ascribe magical po\vers to the unkno\vn. The unkno\vn is contrasted \vith nlatl 's helplessness atld ignorance, and attains the status of a source of po\ver and kno\vledge. It is not uncommon for half crazy medicine men to function as mediators benveen a tribe and the unkno\vn, thus assuming a kinship benveen insanity and the divine. In Christiatlity, the opposite is the case. The divine is identified \vith social reason, \vhilc insanity is identified \vith the devil. The insane become scapegoats for internal social conflicts \vith social reason being defined in relation to insanity. This section \vill focus on nineteenth-century thought, in \vhich madness became mental illness, and \vhere psychiatry \vas developed as a science of mental illness \vith its o\vn classification system (nosology), its o\vn understanding and explanation of the causes of mental illness (etiology), and its o\vn form of treatment (therapy). Ho\vever, \ve \vill first sketch the contours of earlier developments that form the basis for the genesis of psychiatry. Medieval and Renaissance society was dominated by a feudal and static hierarchy \vith a clerical and a secular po\ver structure. Cases abound of the Church's fighting its opponents by accusing theln of being in league \vith the devil. The insane did not constitute any dangerous opposition to the Church per se, but, because of their peculiar gestures and manner of speech, they provided convincing exanlples of the devil's existence, and could therefore serve as scapegoats. The nlany witch trials, \vhich facilitated the consolidation of clerical power, also laid the ground\vork for an entire folk mythology of being possessed by the devil, nlaking a pact with the devil, or being sold to the devil. Many were executed in order to scare and \varn potential deviants from reason. Taken in isolation, secular power was less restrictive. We have all heard of the tales of village idiots, who could \vander un accosted among the gaudy throngs of the to\vns, and Renaissance works (like those of Bosch, Shakespeare, and Cervantes) bear \vitness to an interest in madness and a \villingness to comprehend it. These conditions changed \vith the cI11ergence of capitalisnl in northern

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THE HIS.rORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

Europe and dle literal expulsion of Catholicism. Devil mythology as well as tolerance gave \vay to a massive disciplinary effort, \vhere enlotion and reason \vere defined as opposites. Social morality became a part of capitalist accunlulation and emphasized diligence, fnlgality, self-control, and longterm calculation. This new nl0rality was foisted upon society by singularly tangible nleans (see LA). Discipline became the order of the day in school, dle workplace, and the military. La\vs \vere passed that punished failure to \vork for \vhatever reason by incarceration (such a la\v \vas on the books in France fronl 16S7 to 1794). Every large city had a house of correction or prison for the incarceration of disruptive clements, the indolent, criminals, dle deformed, invalids, and dle unenlployed; all of whom were incarcerated together. Only those able to work were separated and forced to produce different conmlodities. This production was often quite profitable and these institutions \vere dlerefore a lucrative business for the absolute monarchs. The insane were among the \vorst off in this system insofar as they could not adapt to the required \vork ethic. They \vere often chained to the \valls of dark prison cellars or crowded together in large cages and exhibited for nloney on Sundays. Madness \vas simply defined as bestiality, a state thought to be imnlune to change and certainly not curable. However, in dle latter half of dle eighteenth century a change occurred. In some institutions experiments \vere conducted on the imprisoned or hospitalized insane that revealed that their condition \vas not immutable. Finding a treatment that \volIld improve dle health of the patient \vas the only concern, in keeping with dle nlodel of nledical science. This view marked the beginning of a definition of insanity as an illness. Bourgeois political ideals of freedonl and human rights were eventually extended to include the insane. They were no\v regarded not as divine, nor as possessed by the devil or bestial, but as sick people. The years immediately follo\ving the French Revolution in 1789 were a decisive turning point. First, the sick \vere released from their chains, and second, a psychiatric science enlerged. Several different developments took place in psychiatry during dlis period. We \vill no\v briefly exanline four of these developnlcnts. (1) The use of hypnosis \vas systenlatizcd in the 1770s by the Austrian F. A. Mesnler. He \vas able to cure psychic and psychosomatic illnesses \vithout k.tl0\ving dlC precise cause of the ailment. Thus he persisted in regarding hypnosis as a transferral ofnlagnetic forces (see I.E.S.b). (2) As mentioned above, experinlents \vith different kinds of therapy \vere conducted in sonle institutions. Contemporary nledical theories served as a point of departure, \vhich naturally influenced dle conception

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of nlental illness. According to sonle theories, n1ental illness \vas caused by anin1al spirits or in1properly circulating blood, clun1ped together in different parts of the body. Therapists went so f.'lr as to clailn that all mental disorders could be categorized as con1ing froln sOlnatic disorders in the Sa.J11e \vay as high fever caused a loss of n1ental clarity. Brutal cures were developed as a result of a rather prilnitive Inechanistic vie\v of n1ental illness. Manic patients \vere strapped in the san1e position for days on end in order to caln1 the life spirits; depressive patients \vere tied to revolving beds in order to an1eliorate poor circulation. In addition, various shock cures \vere elnployed, for eXa.Jnplc, suddenly letting a patient fall into a tub through a hidden trapdoor. These cures \vere Initigated son1e\vhat in the course of the nineteenth century, but were retained to a degree in the forn1 of hydrotherapy (hot and cold baths), electrotherapy (stin1ulation by a \veak electrical current), massage, and diets. (3) Another group of therapists regarded n1ental illness as a psychological and n10ral problem. Their therapy has been called n10ral therapy, and sin1ply atten1pted to reeducate the insane by creating a relationship of trust benveen the patient and the therapist and his f.'ltherly authority. Many mentally ill patients suffered from an exaggerated sensitivity and an inability to control their emotions. It \vas previously thought that this condition \vas caused by the lack of a soul, and the insane \vere therefore regarded as no better than anin1als. Ho\vever, nl0ral therapists believed that the insane \vere underdeveloped, having for son1e reason stagnated at an early stage of development. In order to teach theln ho\v to make conscious choices, to learn responsibility and administer their own lives, the insane were allo\ved to live under relatively free conditions. Institutions were furnished as simply as possible so that the patient could understand their rules and norms. Only mild forms of punishn1ent and reward \vere used. The n10st \vell-kno\vn moral therapists were Tukc in England and Pinel in France, both of whom started their reform work in the 1790s. Tuke, a deeply religious Quaker, established an asylum in the country, believing that nlral labor and close contact with nature would provide the best opportunities for development. On this point he agreed \vith Rousseau and the Romantics, even though his concept of the subject cannot otherwise be called romantic. Exemplary of Tuke's therapy \vere his "tea parties," \vhere the sane and insane participated as equals. The insane would then, under "social pressure" from the sane, compete in conforming to cultural norms as well as possible. Pinel held similar therapeutic ideas, but is especially known for his thorough description and classification of types of illnesses. He enl-

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THE HIST.ORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

ployed five 111ain categories: melancholy, n1onon1ania, n1ania, dementia, and idiocy. (4) The Gern1an natural philosophers also had a keen interest in n1ental illness. They criticized the liberalistic subject concept for representing only narro\v-n1inded social reason. They instead stressed desire and emotion as primordial savagery and n1adness in all n1ankind. Pure n1adness was an expression of early stages in hun1an evolution, but could of course never be accepted as such. The positive expression of madness could be found in artistic creativity, \vhere the artist realized son1e of man's primordial essence in his \vork. Taking Schelling's writings on natural philosophy as their point of departure, philosophers and writers commonly became preoccupied with mental illness. However, their abstract sympathy for the plight of the n1entally ill \vas not translated into practice because of the lack of a therapeutic din1ension. We do not intend to go into n10re detail with these first stages of the history of psychiatry, but will instead exan1ine n10re closely areas in nineteenth-century philosophy directly concerned \vith the development of psychoanalysis: neuropathological psychiatry, originating in the 1840s; the interest in hypnosis and hysteria in the 1880s; and increased attention to sexuality as a subject for psychiatry to\vard the end of the century.

( a) Neuropathology and Psychiatry Advances in neuropathology in the nineteenth century affected psychiatry by n1aking it n10re hon1ogeneous. At the SaI11e tin1e that neurophysiology and neuroanatomy defined the hun1an subject as a con1bination of the features and functions of the nervous system, it becan1e comn1on for psychiatrists to regard psychic disorders as expressions of malfunctions in the nervous systen1. During the period fron1 the mid 1840s to the mid 1880s, there \vas no clear boundary between psychiatry and neuropathology (the science of diseases of the nervous systen1). The leading figure behind this development \vas Wilhelm Griesinger ( 1817-1868). He \vas a doctor and through his practice had become acquainted \vith the latest findings in neurophysiological research, including those published in Muller's textbook (Muller 1834-1840). In 1840, he got a job in a psychiatric instinltion, \vhere he specialized in the psychiatric theories of the son1atics. He also sought a broader theoretical perspective and to this end published the first edition of his psychiatric

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textbook in 1845. This textbook defined psychic disorders in relation to the nervous systenl. Griesinger's vie,v gained credence in certain circles and developnlents in neurophysiology (the discovery of reflex paths through the brain, cerebral localization) confinned his hypothesis. In 1867, after several years of absence froln psychiatry, he becaille a university professor of psychiatry in Berlin. Griesinger nlade the famous statenlent that all nlental diseases ,vere brain diseases. He ,vas not so rigid in his vie,vs in his practical \vork, where he elllployed psychological and clinical descriptions besides his theoretical nl0dels. This procedure was evident in his concept of etiology, which claimed that nlental illness developed as a result of the interaction of several different causes, for exanlple, innate ,veaknesses in the nervous systelTI, other sonlatic ailments, extraordinary psychic experiences or states, and certain provoking situations. In his therapeutic ,vork, Griesinger stressed preventive measures because he did not believe that an advanced mental illness could be cured: He felt that nlechanical treatnlents, \vhich were often violent, should be abandoned and replaced in part by chemical drugs (opium, prussiates) and baths. Griesinger did not believe that mental illness ,vas self-imposed, and ,vas therefore opposed to narro,v-minded moral instruction of the mentally ill. On the other hand, he saw the goal of therapy as a strengthening of the self. Classification of diseases ,vas probably Griesinger's weakest point. He persisted in supporting Zeller's theory of a so-called unity psychosis. This theory held that there was really only one kind of nlental illness. Consequently, different manifestations of mental illness were sinlply nlore or less advanced forms of this one illness. The Frenchman Morel used this nl0del for his notorious degeneration theory that mental illness was hereditary and increased in severity ,vith each generation, resulting eventually in idiocy (see I.B.2.b). According to Zeller and Morel this process ,vas irreversible. Consequently, no effort ,vas made to cure advanced cases, because it was felt that the patients ,vould never recover fronl their illnesses anyway. Griesinger supported degeneration theory. The positive aspect of Griesinger's adherence to this theory and was that he attempted to classify milder mental disorders considered by the t\vo theories to be internlediate stages of actual mental illness. He thus became the first psychiatrist to complete a study of neurotic symptoms, and he tried to understand them by comparing them to a number of well-known borderline cases in the nonllal psyche, such as dreams, inebriation, and delirium from fever. The first genuine stage of illness was depression, which Griesinger interpreted as a

62

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THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

sign that mental illness in its original form could not be regarded as exaggerated enlotional activity. On the contrary, he interpreted depression from the reflex nl0del as the inhibition of energy release. He \vas also aware of similar psychological Inechanisnls, while he regarded inhibition as an inexpedient retention of enl0tional reactions. In a larger sense, the self or reason as the instrument controlling inhibition, calculation, and self-control entered the spotlight as the cause of nlental illness. For Griesinger, psychiatry and neuropathology were almost identical. This view enabled him better to understand organic psychoses, which could be traced to brain damage (for exarllple, by poisoning), but it also entailed a certain confusion on other points. It gradually became increasingly necessary to distinguish benveen psychic and neuropathological illnesses, for there \vere psychic illnesses \vithout demonstrable organic defects and neuropathological illnesses \vithout psychic defects (such as child paralysis, aphasia, and epilepsy). A nlore pronounced separation of the nvo disciplines resulted. Psychiatry and neuropathology eventually became independent disciplines, \vith Kraepelin regarded as the leading psychiatrist and Charcot as the leading neuropathologist at the turn of the century. Freud's teacher Theodor Meynert was one of the fe\v \vho developed Griesinger's tlleories and attenlpted to bridge the gap benveen psychiatry and neuropathology. Meynert \vas not successful in this endeavor, but it can perhaps be said that he inspired Freud to retain elements from psychiatry and neuropathology in his \vork. This aspect of the beginnings of psychoanalysis \vill be discussed in section IV.A on the psychoanalytical classification of diseases.

(b) Hypnosis and Hysteria Hysteria has been kno\vn since antiquity, \vhen it was thought to have been caused by the uterus's \vandering about in a \voman's body (the term hysteria is derived from the Greek \vord for uterus). Hysteria appears as cramps, paresis, or pains in various parts of the body accompanied by an exaggerated anxiety or fear of harmless objects or situations. Because no precise organic causes of hysteria could be found, it eventually became conunon to regard it as conscious sinllIlation, that is, pretending to be ill. Milder cases of hysteria \vere seldonl treated, because it \vas thought to be one of the typical weaknesses of character in \VOnlen (hysterical symptonls in men \vere called hypochondria). Physicians refused to treat hysteria,

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considering it playacting, an attelllpt to attract attention. Despite these attitudes, hysteria becanle the object of nluch discussion, probably because the incidence of hysteria \vas nlore widespread after the independent developlnent of the sphere of intinlacy at the end of the eighteenth century. As already nlentioned, \VOnlen's \vork then becanle increasingly bound up \vith fanlily life and the sphere of intilnacy. Before her nlarriage, a woman served her parents, after nlarrying she becanle a servant for her husband and snlall children. At the satne tinle she \vas supposed to be the repository of sensitivity and refinenlent. Freud's and Breuer's \vork \vith hysterical \VOnlen contributed to the discovery of ho\v these conditions generated mental illness. The treatnlent of nervous disorders such as hysteria goes back to the exorcisnls of the Middle Ages atld the Renaissatlce. The nlagnetizer Franz Anton Mesnler (1734-1815), a Vienna physician and a personal friend of Mozart atld Haydn, had \vitnessed an exorcisnl where a priest had produced violent crmlps in a possessed person by invoking the devil and God. The priest had explained the alleviation of the possessed person's condition by saying that the devil had left the body. Mesmer rejected this explanation md clainled that he could effect the sanle cure \vithout religious overtones. He regarded this illness as nlaterially conditioned and had a theory that there \vere nlagnetic forces at play. His treatnlent consisted of letting the patient consume a ferruginous mixture and then placing two to four magnets on different parts of her body. He then sat opposite the patient, pressed his knees against the patient's knees md stared deeply into her eyes. Mesmer also sometinles rubbed his fingers against the patient's fingers. After a \vhile a change occurred. The patient felt sonlething like a strange fluid passing through her body accompanied by some pain. Verbal conlmunication \vas strictly forbidden and the patient \vas therefore forced to abreact her tensions with a somatic attack. The patient had perhaps had these attacks in other situations, but under Mesmer's direction and influence they had a soothing and therapeutic effect. When the same treatment \vas repeated several days in a row, the synlptonls gradually weakened and finally disappeared. In 1778, Mesmer was forced to leave Austria because of his controversial practice. He settled in Paris, where he continued his therapy and developed it theoretically. He called it animal magnetis111, because he interpreted his therapeutic treatment as the manifestation of magnetic forces. He believed that the universe contained magnetic forces affecting all life on earth. Pathological states were caused by an ilnbalance in the distribution of

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THE HISTp'RICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

nlagnetic fluid in the body. Consequently, the cure \vas supposed to restore this balance. MeSlner used magnets, Inixrures, and nletallic objects to channel energy into the right paths again. He evennlally came to regard himself as an unusually potent nlagnetic force with special abilities to control the course of fluid in the body. His therapeutic talents \vere thus supposed to consist of his ability to localize and treat unhealthy accumulations of energy and unblock circulation. It was therefore necessary for the patient to relive the crises that had caused the illness. Mesmer's therapy caused a great stir, and he had l11any srudents and inlitators. Extensive srudies \vere published on the subject, which resulted in the appOintIllent of an official commission to investigate Mesmer's 111ethods more closely. The investigation led to a charge against Mesmer for quackery, because the conlnlission rightfully doubted the existence of a 111agnetic fluid in the body. However, a contributing factor to the comlnission's findings \vas the view that magnetisnl was a threat to common sense and social mores. The fanatical cult surrounding Mesmer was not \vithout sexual overtones. Many female patients apparently worshipped Mesnler and scenes of nlass hysteria ensued \vhen he placed a large group of patients in a rub in order to cure thenl simultaneously (one of Mesmer's srudents was apparently so preoccupied \vith his "magnetic stroking" that his patient became pregnant). Mesmer's most peculiar exploit \vas to magnetize a tree outside of Paris, \vhich subsequently became a Mecca for the sick just like the healing springs of ancient tinles. It is clear that Mesnler perfornled a kind of hypnosis, and that he had mastered the technique of putting his patients into a trance. His theory of the accunlulation of nlagnetic energy in the body corresponded to the way his patients experienced tlleir illnesses. One of the characteristics of hysteria is that synlptoms manifest themselves as inlaginary pains having some kind of psychic content in the diseased organs. By employing his unusual methods, Mesnler \vas able to enter tlle unconscious struCnIres that caused the synlptoms. Ho\vever, his belief in a magnetic fluid \vas false, and it blinded hinl to a tlleoretical understanding of his discovery. In 1841, Braid, a Scot, fornlulated a nlore advanced theory and was the first to enlploy the ternl hypnosis) \vhich nleant the sleeping state. Braid's scientific Hpurification" of magnetisnl reduced the significance of the relationship of the hypnotist to the patient by clainling tllat therapy took place in the patient's o\vn inlagination. The technique \vas no\v being used in l11any sinlations, for eXa..Illple, as an anestlletic in surgery. In the latter half of the nineteenth cennlry, hypnosis enjoyed considerable popularity in

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France especially, \vherc it \vas used by Broca, Azanl, and others. Dcspite this popularity, ho\vever, 111any doctors persisted in regarding hypnosis as nothing nlore than quackery. Most were only acquainted with hypnosis from public exhibitions, \vhere the nlore conspicuous effects-such as actions perfornlcd \vhile in a trance and under posthypnotic suggestion\vere demonstrated along \vith other circus acts. The French country doctor Liebeault was one of the first to devotc himself entirely to hypnosis. A nl0dest inheritance allo\ved hinl to retirc fronl his practice in the 1870s. He settled in Nancy, \vhere he gave free treatment to the poor. Like Mesmer, he used hypnosis to treat a wide range of illnesses., including purely organic disorders. His incontrovertible results quickly made hinl a controversial figure, \vhich \von hinl ne\v supporters. One \vas Hippolyte Bernheinl (1840-1919), a professor of medicine who in 1882 joined the Nancy school and becanle its theorist. The views of the Nancy school \vcrc thus dissenlinated through Bernheinl's books. He once again changed the t.erminology of the treatnlent, substituting the term suggestion for hypnosis, thus underscoring the psychological perspective and the importance of interpersonal relations. Among the psychosonlatic illnesses he successfully treated \vere constipation and anorexia in children, and insomnia, anxiety, and other hysterical symptonls in adults. Bernheim's method consisted of convincing the patient of the correctness and reasonableness of the doctor's vie\vs. When the doctor told patients that they ought to be healthy and abandon their symptoms, they sometimes followed his orders. Bernheim nlade no attempt to explain his technique theoretically, but instead underscored the therapeutic aspcct of suggestion. Unlike Mesmer, Bernheim regarded language as the most important mediuln for contact \vith a patient, who literally had to be convinced. Objections were not accepted, and patients not responding to suggestions were blanlcd for not doing so, for Bernheim believed that anyone could respond to suggestion in principle, a view that was later strongly criticized. We have already mentioned Jean Martin Charcot (1825-1893) as the leading neuropathologist of the cennll-Y. For example, he Inade important contributions to sclerosis research. In this light, his sudden interest in hypnosis and hystcria in the 1880s has been regarded as a digression fronl more serious pursuits. He was introduced to thc subject in 1876, when he became a member of a conlffiission investigating thc validity of hypotheses formulated by a contemporary magnetizer. The invcstigation unexpectcdly found merit in the magnetizer's hypotheses, recognizing that certain nlCtallic substances could induce cramps by touch. Thc reason for Charcot's

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positive attitude toward nlagnetisnl and hypnosis is thought to have been that he gained new insight into his hysterical patients. He had encountered an unusually high nunlber of hysterical patients as the head of the great Parisian hospital for 11lentally ill women, La Salpctriere. He \vas struck by the fact that hypnotized individuals exhibited the same symptoms of cramps as hysterical patients. As a neuropathologist, Charcot felt that a psychological explanation for this sinlilarity \vas inadequate. He therefore argued that only those having a particular organic disposition were responsive to hypnosis as \vell as hysteria. The sanle nlinority made up both groups. By stimulating certain "hysterogenic zones" in the body, a series of states could be induced, including trances, violent muscle spasms, and spasmatic theatrical poses. One of Charcot's nlost inlportant discoveries was that individuals with hysterical tende11cies reacted differently fronl others to traumatic experiences. His nlost well-known exanlple was a bricklayer \vho had fallen from a scaffold and later became paralyzed in one arm without having any demonstrable organic defects. Charcot presumed that such posttraumatic neuroses were caused by special "dynamic functional lesions, " \vhich could not be localized in the sanle way as normal lesions. His psychological explanation for this phenomenon \vas that during the period after the trauma (the shock of the fall), the bricklayer had isolated the motor functions of the arm from the group of psychically active functions (by socalled autosuggestion), causing the arnl to be exenlpt fronl the influence of the will for a time. In sonle of these cases, the patient \vas cured after an affect-dominated crisis, \vhich nleant that the abreaction \vas therapeutically effective. It is difficult to determine \vhether Charcot was a\vare of this connection. At any rate, he apparently pointed out that hysterical attacks, because of their sinlilarity to orgasms, had sexual overtones, and that "the genital" played a role in the etiology of hysteria. Charcot's theory of hysteria and hypnosis caused quite a stir. During his weekly lectures, he \vas fond of exhibiting hysterical patients alongside hypnotized individuals in order to denlonstrate the similarities bet\veen the t\vo. Unlike the Nancy school, he did \vhat he could to relate hypnosis to physically induced phenonlena. He thus experimented \vith nlagnets and metallic substances, nlaking the sanle basic mistake as Mesmer: clouding genuine k.tl0\vledge of psychic nlechanisnls \vith a lTIore-than-dubious physical theory. On the \vhole, Charcot stinlulated great public interest in mental disorders, and nlany weU-kno\vn \vriters of the tinle are kno\vn to have attended his lecnlrcs.

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For the tinle being, \ve can sunullarize the differences benveen Bernheinl and Charcot \vith the following points: (1) Charcot regarded receptivity to hypnosis as a sign of \veakness in the nervous systenl, \vhile Bernheinl believed that anyone could be hypnotized (respond to suggestion); (2) Charcot nlaintained a physical and neurophysiological vie\v of hypnosis, \vhile Bernheinl stressed the psychic and interpersonal aspects of suggestion; and (3) Charcot only rarely used hypnosis in therapy, while Bernheinl devoted himself exclusively to the therapeutic possibilities of suggestion. At an inlportant congress in 1889, su pporters of Charcot and Bernheinl clashed. On the \vhole, the vie\vs of the Nancy school emerged victoriolls. The consequences of this conflict \vere negligible, ho\vever, because interest in hypnosis once again faded after the turn of the century. Charcot's most pronunent discipline, Janet, \vas able to dra\v inlportant conclusions from Charcot's theories (he adopted a psychological approach and described psychic splits), but his \vork \vas tarnished by his support for Morel's degeneration theory .. Bernheim's and Charcot's enduring significance lies in the inspiration they gave to Freud, \vho used their theories in his fonnulation of psychoanalysis. Moreover, Charcot's work also exerted considerable influence on neuropathology .

(c) Sexology and Psychiatry Much of what \ve have said about nladness applies to an even greater degree to sexuality. Many features of Christianity and capitalist culUlre can only be understood in light of their sexual origins. Sexuality itself changes character \vith social development. It underwent a strong differentiation during the rise of capitalism, becoming a versatile and mobile instrument for many different functions. In psychoanalytic terms, sexuality can attach itself to the superego and to external, socially deternlined ideals, it can bring people together in pairs or in grollps, and it can constitute a transgressive desire based on utopian fantasies. We \vill not attenlpt to revie\v these functions and their historical transformations here. The ideological history of sexuality roughly follows the history of the concept of the subject discussed in section LA. Having been considered divine and/or satanic in various mythologies, sexuality in the seventeenth and eighteenth cenulries was, for better or worse, adapted to the hierarchy separating the emotional from the rational and innate from acquired char-

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actenstlcs. Like the enl0tions, sexuality \vas regarded as an innate and anilnal elenlent in nlan, sonlething that should be excluded from society like madness, and \vhich \vas in any case only tolerated in its adult, disciplined l11anifestations. In the eighteenth century, a veritable crusade was started against children's nlasturbation. Ingenious alarnl and surveillance systems were enlployed to prevent sexual activity anl0ng children, \vhich only served to excite their interest in sexuality. During the Romantic era, enl0tions and sexuality \vere to sonle degree integrated as a positive clement in the hunlan subject. At the same tinle, a ronlantic nlyth of sex as the most valuable and the most fragile and sensitive part of man gained currency. Sex was seen as a potential source of sickness because it was especially vulnerable to the omniscient nloral depravity in society. Public attention \vas therefore prinlarily directed at pathological and abnormal sexuality, nlaking a cure for such disorders inlperative. Research in sexuality during most of the nineteenth century \vas generally conducted in light of moral dogmas. Church authorities were traditionally interested in sexual issues. The positive aspect of this interest \vas that the subject could be discussed fronl a psychological perspective, for example, in ternlS of sin and tenlptation, the dangers of succumbing to sinful thoughts, fantasies, and the struggle against passion and carnal desire. Behind this attitude lay considerable insight into many psychic mechanisms and a ktl0\vledge of conflicting inclinations in the psyche. Research in sexuality in the natural sciences might have been expected at the time the nlechanistic subject concept developed, around 1850, but deeply religious scientists continued to dominate the field. The subject \vas apparently taboo around this period, which is renlarkable in light of ho\v the materialistic natural sciences disnussed God and the hunlan soul. Throughout the nineteenth century, research in sexllality was marked by t'\vo pseudoscientific theories: Gall's phrenology in the first half of the century and Morel's degeneration theory in the latter half. We have already discussed Morel's theory (see I.B.2.b). Phrenology \vas in nlany \vays a precursor of degeneration theory. It held that typical hunlan characteristics such as destructiveness, joie de vivreJ self-esteem, altruism, and calculation all had a permanent place in the brain. The shape of the cranium thus corresponded to the relative strength of these characteristics: a projection indicated \vell-developed characteristics, an indentation defective capacity. According to this theory, phrenologists believed it possible to measure an individual's personality (and, for exanlple, single out potential criminals).

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Sexual instinct \vas located in the cercbcllunl. Consequently, a corpulent neck \vas a sign of overdeveloped sexual instinct. In the nineteenth century, sexuality ,vas generally explained as a three,vay interdependence of the nervous systenl, heredity, and the genitals, \vithout much kno\vledge of any of them. Gall emphasized the localization of sexuality in the nervous system, \vhile Morel stressed heredity. A number of sporadic causes of sexuality ,vere formulated \vith the help of vitalist ideas. The vie,v of the evils of masturbation ,vas retained and elaborated. Sperm ,vas considered the same substance as aninlal spirits and the life force, so masturbation \vas believed to lead to lethargy and apathy. Some even held that there ,vas a connection benveen sperm and spinal marro,v, and that masturbation could cause a fatal \vaste of spinal marro,v. Similar connections could not be made ,vith ,vomen. Instead, masturbation was linked to irregularities in menstruation, sterility, and so on. Moreover, it \vas thought that masturbation of the clitoris caused it to gro,v, producing male features in ,vomen and converting them to lesbianism. Venereal disease \vas a favorite subject as evidence of a direct relationship benveen sexuality and disease. One mistake could lead to madness (from syphilis) and could be passed on to future generations. Gradual degeneration caused distortions of the genitals and madness and perversion. Morel, ,vho ,vas very religious, described perversions in moralistic terms as sexual relations \vith persons of the same sex, children, animals, corpses, and dolls. Only to\vard the end of the century ,vas there any discussion of whether these perversions \vere innate or acquired. Ho,vever, leading sexologists such as Krafft-Ebing and Havelock Ellis did not entirely abandon degeneration theory. Krafft-Ebing, \vho succeeded Meynert as professor of psychiatry in Vienna, is often mentioned as the first to systematize psychosexual disorders. His textbook Psychopathia Sexualis (Krafft-Ebing 1889) ,vas reprinted nvelve times in increasingly large numbers. In his book, Krafft-Ebing called perversions "cerebral neuroses." Moreover, he constructed the terms sadism and masochism from the fiction writers Sade and Sacher-Masoch. He made extensive descriptions of all the clinical symptoms, but nevertheless persisted in explaining perversions as an expression of innate disorders of the nervous system. He regarded masturbation as pathological, and supposedly went so far as to claim that he could detect signs of degeneration in all women ,vho had had sexual relations outside of marriage. Darwinism provided an important contribution to research in sexuality.

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In his book on the descent of man (Danvin 1871), Danvin expressed the idea of a common bisexuality. Noting that most primitive organisms \vere neuter, he concluded that sexual differentiation had come about at a certain stage of development. Man \vas neuter in the first stages of embryonic development, or rather, the ferus had both n1ale and female sex anlages. Therefore, either the male or the female anlages became dominant during the development of the ferus. This area of hereditary theory \vas elaborated in Germany by Weismann (see I.B.2.b) and became part of sexual pathology. Just as hermaphrodites could be born as a result of mutation, it was believed that a perversc course of psychosexual development could lead to homosexuality and bisexuality. This theory \vas based on the assumption that psychosexual attirudes \vere controlled by male and female brain centers. Perverse development \vas therefore the result of an imbalance in the narural relationship benveen these nvo centers. Mter the rurn of the cenrury, sexology becan1e n10re a part of scientific discourse, partly because sexologists becan1e aware of the significance of Mendel's la\vs of heredity and could therefore root out the n1any myths surrounding inherited characteristics. Several bodies of \vork had enduring importance in the field of sexology: Krafft-Ebing's and Havelock Ellis's descriptions of perversions, I\van Bloch's incorporation of culrural, historical, and anthropological perspectives, Wilhelm Fliess's and Magnus Hirschfeld's theories of bisexuality, and Freud's den10nstration of the connection between sexuality and neurosis. Atnong these scientists Freud rapidly en1erged as the one best able to incorporate new ideas in a gencral theory of sexuality.

6. LITERATURE There arc significant differences benveen the psychology found in philosophy and science, and that found in literarure. Philosophers and scientists search for abstract and universal concepts and universal la\vs. Writers of fiction, ho\vever, are cOlnpelled to express their experiences. Philosophers and scientists usually regard psychological connections fron1 the outside and try to objectify then1. Writers, ho\vever, oftcn invite the reader to follo\v the thoughts and actions of fictional characters subjectively. Philosophcrs and scientists divide the sUldy of n1an into con1partn1cntalized interests and disciplines, \vhile \vriters atten1pt to depict individual lives as a totality. They are able to follo\v their characters fron1 cradle to grave,

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71

describe their hopes and fnlstrations and sho\v ho\v their personalities are created and developed in a larger context. Although plot and action are fictional, a literal), \vork can encolnpass an entire Weltanschauung (a theory ofhunlan life) conlparable to any philosophical or scientific theol),. We do not intend to set literature against philosophy or science. They have influenced each other, and \ve shall exalnine sonle of the literary tendencies that influenced Freud and through hiln psychoanalysis as the science of the subject. We have decided to focus on thelnes in nineteenth-century literature. Although Freud knew and valued earlier \vriters like Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Milton, it is clear that, from a psychoanalytical vie\vpoint, the more recent literature provided a key to understanding the earlier \vriters. Moreover, nineteenth-century literature consistently developed a psychological vie\vpoint. Romantic \vriters gave a dynamic description of psychic conflicts and charted ne\v territory in the personality, \vhile naturalistic \\'riters searched for genetic explanations of the personality using the criteria of her editv and environment. We find in Romanticisnl and Naturalism the " greatest psychological insight into the tragic chain of events related to the failure of synthesis benveen emotion and reason, past and present. This chain of events leads to a psychological personality divided into the separate parts that normally create a balance in the healthy personality. This division brings features to the fore that arc othenvise hidden.

(a) Romantic Literature: The Eruption of the Hidden Forces of the Soul Romantic literature \vould not be very interesting if it focused exclusively on the emphasis of emotion at the expense of reason in a symnletrical inversion of the Weltanschauung of rationalism. This motif does mark most romantic \vorks, with their rapid idealization of emotion, nature, and the glorious national past. Ho\vever, several writers did attempt to trace the actual fate of emotions in contemporary capitalist society, creating a less idyllic image. Emotional and sexual demands lnaintained uncompromisingly \vere adversely affected in the encounter with the environment and in frustration withdre\v back to the soul as abnormal fantasies. Writers \vere no\v able to describe how these fantasies \vere mobilized as demonic forces able to strike anywhere at any time. They had personally observed nature in the process of being destroyed by industry, and a bourgeois

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society controlled by money and therefore took the side of the violated emotions to the extent of pathological hyperbole. The clash between mining and mountain demons \vas an often-used image of the conflict. It showed that the inherent forces of nature became dangerous adversaries when provoked. On the psychological level, the conflict \vas expressed as a split in the personality. The personality \vas no longer a monadic ego able to control emotions from its self-conscious vantage point. It contained unkno\vn depths where powerful emotions and fantasies lived independen t lives. The rational ego \vas in reality weak and disjointed and \vas as a rule driven to madness or suicide when it \vas unable to integrate the deeper layers of the personality. Indeed, many romantic \vriters had split personalities. Kleist, Hoffman, Holderlin, Byron, and Poe are just a fe\v examples. Some of the finest illustrations of psychological insight in romantic literature are found in E. T. A. Hoffmann's tales. We \vill discuss Freud's analysis of them later (see IILe.2.b). Hoffmann's fictional universe houses animated dolls, fortune-tellers, magnetizers, and substitute children. The plot is developed in such a way that the reader gradually con1prehends that the demonic characters and strange turns of events in reality are expressions of the unconscious fantasies and incipient madness of the main protagonist. His ever-changing states of consciousness range from situations where the ego acts against its \vill without understanding why to purely psychotic states where objects begin to talk and mysterious doubles physically attack the ego in order to destroy it. The genesis of self-reflection in Hegel's philosophy becomes in Hoffmann pathological self-observation and narcissism. Mirror images are transforn1ed into living doubles, the total incarnation of psychic characteristics repressed by the superficial and conventional ego and the ideals and norms it attempts to live up to. The deeper layers of the personality are thus not n1erely primitive and inarticulate drives. They are mobilized as an independent subject. The madman acts as if he were possessed by the devil and the devil is portrayed as the product of the madn1an's fantasies. The depiction of these features illustrates the development of the psychological concept of the superego. Edgar Allan Poe continued the romantic tradition by constructing his criminal mysteries in such a \vay that only kno\vledge of the unconscious intelligence and its methods-for example, a knowledge of cryptography and rebus riddles and the ability to put oneself in another's shoes by intersubjective identification could reveal the truth. Poe's doubles are also supernatural figures \vho cannot be repelled by normal means: one kills one's double, one kills oneself. Later variations on this then1e can be found

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in Stevenson, Dostoevsky, and Hamsun. In their \vorks, the appearance of the double is a sign of madness. The French \vriter Stendhal should also be mentioned as a relatively realist psychologist in the romantic tradition. In his novel The Red and the Black (Stendhal1830), there are no supernatural doubles and the like, and the plot unfolds in a historically correctly depicted milieu. Ho\vever, the main protagonist, Julien, possesses quite extraordinary psychic characteristics: on the one hand he has remarkable intelligence and \vill po\ver, \vhich he cynically employs for egoistic goals, and on the other he is subjected to irrational impulses, which he carries out \vithout kno\ving \vhy. The double has in this case been transformed into an internal ego ideal (Napoleon himself) controlling all of Julien's actions. It is clear that emotional and sexual drives combined \vith particularly intense experiences and ideas comprise the deeper layers of his personality. Hate and love for the same person alternate in characteristic patterns without being able to be traced back to an unequivocal ego desiring the one or the other. The personality is split into conflicting parts and inclinations, the most important being precisely those \vhich Enlightenment literature did everything to trivialize.

(b) Naturalist Literature: Life History and the Return of the Past Naturalism in the 1860s \vas a reaction to Romanticism, as \vas natural science to natural philosophy. Literature was analyzed in the context of contemporary scientific and philosophical trends. Pioneers such as Hippolyte Taine and Georg Brandes created a broader radical Enlightenment movement, giving equal praise to philosophers like Comte, Mill, and Nietzsche, scientists like Danvin, and \vriters like Flaubert, Zola, Ibsen, and J. P. Jacobsen. Behind the praise for the ,,'riters \vas a political aim. Literature \vas to forge an alliance \vith the natural sciences in the struggle against prejudices and illusions. No important issue \vas to be passed over in silence. Literature \vas to debate controversial subjects, especially the sore points of bourgeois society, for example, religion, the family, sexual morality, and social injustice. Taine collected some of these features in a psychological analytical model according to which the personality was primarily determined by race and milieu. Many writers attempted to incorporate precise causal relationships

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THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

in their fictional plots. Some emphasized race or heredity, others milieu. Emile Zela belongs to the former group. He attempted to incorporate the methods of experimental biology in the novel. He believed that the novelist should experiment with his characters by successively placing them in different contexts and siruations and then observing their reactions (despite the fact that the novelist himself could create \vhatever reactions he desired). Daf\vin's biological theory of evolution \vas transformed in the novel into a vulgar social Danvinism \vhere the biologically fittest won the struggle for existence. Degeneration theory was also frequently incorporated into literary works, and numerous fictional characters fought in vain against fate, only because they belonged to a degenerate family. Social conflicts were portrayed as racial conflicts, \-vhere the healthiest race triumphed. The other group of naruralist writers, those who stressed environmental factors, are more interesting from a psychological perspective. In addition to family history, these \vriters took as their theme life history, and attempt to understand it as a coherent totality by regarding it in terms of causal relations between crucial experiences on the one hand and the formation of individual character on the other. The Goncourt brothers in their novel, Germinie Lacerteux (Goncourt and Goncourt 1865), offered an example of such a scrupulous portrayal of a life history. The basis for the novel \vas the authors' discovery that their servant girl had been leading a double life for many years. She had apparently served her nlasters loyally and \vas liked and respected by all. Ho\vever, she had secretly led a depraved life of drunkenness, prostirution, and theft. The only visible sign of this double life \vas a pronounced nervous behavior during \vhich she sometimes collapsed in a spastic attack. In the novel, the authors attenlpted to constnlct a coherent life history of her disorder from infornlation they gathered after her death. She canle fronl a destirute rural fanlily and early in her life lost the nvo people shc rcally cared for and \vho had protccted her-her nl0ther and brother. Her sisters thcn got her a job as a SCf\rant in a Parisian public house \vhere the nlen made crude advances to her. Her only friend and guardian \vas an old nlan named Joseph. Ho\vever, one day \vhen they \vere honle alone he raped her. Her next tragedy canle \vhen her confessor, \vith \VhOnl she \vas unconsciously in love, rejected her. Her nlost traunlatic experience \vas a relationship to a sonle\vhat younger nlan \vho exploited her econonlically and sexually. In order to appease hinl, she had to steal fronl the old lady she \vorked for " and \vas forced to abandon hcrself to all kinds of debauchen" r, \vhich shattered her spirits and corrupted her nl0rals. As a history of an illness,

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the novel \vas not successful (Charcot allegedly \vhistled in disapproval fronl his box seat \vhen a dranlatized version of the novel \vas staged). The characteristic changes benveen "good" and "evil" in Gernlinie fail LO describe a split personality and cannot be explained as a nlanifestation of typical flucnlations of nlood conlnl0n to hysterical patients (see II.A.2, B.l, on Breuer's patient, Anna 0.). Ho\vever, the novel clearly illustrates ho\\' repeated traunlatic experiences (the loss of loved ones and especially the rape) undcrnlined Gernlinie's chances of realizing her enlotions, and the connection benveen her rape and nervous attacks is \vell developed. In the Danish \\Triter J. P. Jacobsen's novel, Niels L)'hnc (J acobsen 1880), \ve are presented \vith an intilnate psychological description of a split personality, \vhere enlotions and reason are in constant conflict. The enlOtions Inanifcst thenlsclves as fantasies, dreanls, and longing, \vhich can lead to nladness and self-destruction if they arc not realized. Reason is expressed by do\vn-to-earth activities providing gratification unacconlpanied by extrenle enlotional flucruations. This conflict is regarded frolll both sides, and the novel clainls that it is just as inlpossiblc and unbearable to live in dreanls \vithout reality as it is to live in reality \vithout dreanls. This dilemma plagues Niels Lyhne's nlother from the beginning of the novel. She feels an enlotional frustration in her Inarriage: She sank back into the dreams of her girlhood, but with the ditference that now they were no longer illun1ined by hope. Moreover, she had learned that they were only dreaDls-distant, illusive dreams, which no longing in the world could ever draw down to her earth. When she abandoned herself to them now, it was with a sense of weariness, while an accusing inner voice told her that she was like the drunkard who knows that his passion is destroying him, that every debauch means strength taken from his weakness and added to the power of his desire. But the voice sounded in vain, for a life soberly lived, without the fair vice of dreams, was no life at all-life had exactly the value that dreams gave it and no more (J acobsen 1880, pp. 2627).

The cause of her frustration is the nlaterialistic vie\vs of her husband. She compensates for this frustration by transferring her longings and hopes to her son, \vho throughout his childhood is constantly involved in the conflict benveen his mother's lyrical dreanl world and his father's dO\\Tnto-earth labor. This conflict marks Niels Lyhne for the rest of his life. After he has been exposed to these dreanls and longings and has inculcated thenl in his mind, nothing can diminish the strenbrth of this psychic polc. Even though this developnlent does not fully explain his life history, the novel

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nevertheless deOl0nstrates a \vide spectrunl of possibilities for the realization of cnlotions. Niels's nlother Ulrns to religion, a friend bcconles an artist, and Niels hinlself turns into an idealistic atheist and through his atheisnl is able to anchor his longing in reality. Niels declares his atheism on his deathbed, and this part of his personality creates a certain coherence in his life. The novel sho\vs that it is ilnpossible to escape fronl one's enlotional background. The consequences of this enlotional makeup lnust be endured for better or \vorse. When Freud read Niels Lyhne in 1895, he characterized the ending as classic and the novel as the lnost moving he had read in nine years. Our last eXaIllple is Henrik Ibsen's so-called contemporary dramas (1877-1899), \vhich becanle the subject of nluch discussion around the Ulrn of the cennlry. Many of thenl treated political and social issues, but there \vas ahvays a psychological dilnension as \vell. The plots open in a harnlless atnl0sphere seenlingly free of conflict, \vhich is then revealed to conceal inner tension. Past events, \vhich have beconle a heavy burden for one or nlore of the characters, are gradually exposed. The nlore the main protagonist attenlpts to adjust to the present behind an honorable facade, the nlore the past is revealed as a dangerous threat to this facade. The problenl is ahvays that the present is built on the past and the \vhole edifice might collapse if the lies and sins of the past are not exposed aIld reputed. In Pillars of Society (Ibsen 1877), Lona tells consul Bernick: a lie nlade hinl \vhat he is. When he later tries to excuse hinlself for \vhat he has becolne by saying that his son should create a society based on tnah, she objects that it \vill be based on a lie because of the inheritance he gives his son. Sinlilarly, in All Enemy of the People (Ibsen 1882), \vhen Doctor Stocknlann tirelessly denlands that a past nlistake be redressed, he asks the nlayor if the to\vn's prosperity nlust be founded on a lie. The nlistake of the past is that the to\vn's \vater supply has been contaminated because the to\vn did not \vant to finance an expensive \vater pipe. SYl1lbolically, the past l11istake is that the sources of the to\vn's spiritual life \vere poisoned, and that the \vhole COl1lnlunit)' \vas founded on a lie. In Rosntershol1ll (Ibsen 1886), Rosnler states that no victory \vas ever \von by guilty nlen. His affair \vith Rebekka can never be realized because she nlust face the fact that she-partly unktlo\vingly-has had a sexual relationship \vith her father and has nlurdered Rosnler's \vife: she \vould have onlv to stretch out her hand to seize happiness but that her past stands in the \vay. The alnlost nlonotonollS repetition of this pattern indicates that it should not be regarded as a result of circunlstance but as a necessitv an llna\'oid,

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able challenge in the developl11ent of every hUI11an being. It is note\vorthy that Ibsen sonletinles absolves his characters fronl taking the entire blanle for their nlisfortunes. In A Dol/'s House (Ibsen 1879), Nora conlnlits a crilne out of love for her husband. The cril11e is regarded as right, \vhile the opinions of society and Nora's husband are seen as \vrong. The thenle of The Wild Duck (Ibsen 1884) is living a lie in order to retain a sense of sanity. An evil fate is ahvays justified by past events: (1) it is inherited, as \ve see it in Ghosts (Ibsen 1881) \vhen Osvald inherits his father's syphilis; (2) fateful acts are conlnlitted, \vithout realizing that they are inconlpatible \vith one's lif"C goals; or (3) characters are forced to SUbl11it to social nonns, \vhich leads thenl to condenln their o\vn past. Conflict develops \vhen the present is superilnposed on the past, and breaks out \vhen the past renlrns and denlands to be integrated into the present. In Ibsen's \vork, the past event is as a nIle a crinle or a lie, but the plot structure \vould have been the sanle if it had revolved around a sexual traunla as in Ge1'711inie Lacerteux or enlotional overexposure in childhood as in Niels L),hlle. In this context, Ibsen's nlost penetrating psychological dranla is The Lad)' fi'011Z the Sea (Ibsen 1888). Ellida Wangel suffers fronl a nervous disease and has no sexual relations \vith her husband. It is gradually revealed that her thoughts focus around a lengthy past liaison \vith a sailor. She is dra\vn to\vard the sea and the sailor, \vho appeals to her unfulfilled sexual inclinations, \vhich gives her guilt feelings for betraying her husband. The conflict reaches a c1inlax \vhen the sailor appears and wants Ellida back. She is then given a choice, and by "freely" choosing her husband she is released fronl the threatening po\ver of the past. The prinlitive sexual fantasies that had previously expressed thenlselves by an attraction to the sea and "abnornlal ideas" can no\v be fulfilled in her relationship \vith her husband. Ibsen's dranla resembles in some respects Freud's case histories of hysterical patients from the 1890s. Here too, nervous disease expressed itself as sexual anxiety and "abnornlal ideas." Many young girls entered nlarriage \vith strong but ambivalent ties to their parents, ranging froln jealous infatuation to seduction and rape fantasies. When these ties \vere transferred to the future husband, they became overtly neurotic. Under this surface lay the repression of forbidden sexual fantasies, for exanlple, infantile masturbation, and the eventual cure consisted of rooting out sexual repression and becoming aware of and developing prinlitive sexual fantasies. Ibsen's play \vould follo\v this pattern if \ve substituted the Inysterious sailor \vhom Ellida met \vhen she still lived with her father in an isolated

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lighthouse, \vith the father hinlself Whatever passed bet\veen father and daughter (and Ibsen had described an incesnlous relationship nvo years earlier in Rosmersholm) has blocked Ellida's feelings for her husband. In her nlind, past events have assunled pathological dilTIensions: she sees "the stranger" in her mind, sees the pearl in his brooch as a dead fish eye staring at her, sees his eyes in the eyes of her dying child. This is the "ghastly crinle" that both attracts and repels, her, and that resenlbles a drifting to\vard the sea and death. Ibsen's cure consists of bringing the representative of the past to life~ so that Ellida can nlake a ne\v choice benveen hinl and her husband. She chooses her husband~ because he lets her choose "freely," thus allo\ving her to escape the oppression of her nlarriage~ \vhich \vas one of the causes of her hysteria. Throughout his \vritings, Freud continued to search for new explanations for the phenonlenon \ve have called the return of the past. We \vill revie\v this phenonlenon in part 5 in the section on development and repetition (see V.B.3).

c. THE CRISIS OF THE SUBJECT AND CRITIQUE OF SIMPLIFIED SUBJECT CONCEPTS

We ,vill conclude the-first section dealing vvith the historical origins of psychoanalysis ,vith a revie,v of subject concepts developed in the last third of the nineteenth century. These ,vere formulated as a result of genuine changes in the subject, and criticized each of the three simplified subject concepts that we examined in section A and summarize below. We have schematically placed these three subject concepts in relation to three historical periods and three social spheres. The liberalistic subject concept ,vas developed in relation to the relative dominance of the sphere of circulation in early capitalism. Free trade thus became the social model for the rationalistic concept of a free and rational subject. What ,ve no'v call the humanistic subject concept developed as a reaction to capitalism and its rigid rationalistic ideology, where freedom became increasingly occulted by calculation and multiple considerations. Particularly during the Romantic period, spontaneous emotions ,vere considered to constitute the core of the subject, preconditioned by the confinement of the family in a sphere of intimacy determined by functional considerations that isolated the reproduction of the subject. Finally, ,ve discussed the mechanistic subject concept, which came to the fore along ,vith the natural sciences (especially the biological and medical sciences) in the middle of the nineteenth century. According to this concept, the subject \vas nothing more than a machine. The social model for this concept was to be found in the sphere of production and its development of industrial technology. The chronological order presented here does not indicate that one subject concept disappeared when another appeared. The liberalistic subject con-

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cept \vas more widely accepted in the nineteenth century than in the eighteenth century when it \vas developed. Much the same time lapse applies to the humanistic subject concept. Bourgeois societies established in a number of countries in the nineteenth century did not actually favor anyone of the three concepts, but let them develop side by side. The reason for this is that capitalist society can only function when the three social spheres (the sphere of circulation, the sphere of intimacy, and the sphere of production) are kept separate and each fulfills a necessary social function (circulation, reproduction, and production). The three spheres must be separate and must adapt to each other in order for society to function. These nvo demands cause social crises and consequently the crisis of the subject. The spheres are isolated from each other in order to fulfill a certain function. Consequently, the sphere is organized as ifit \vere autonomous, as if its function \vere an aim in itself, and as if its values \vere universal. The formulation of a fixed subject concept is an important part of the internal organization of the sphere and perhaps the very part that permits the sphere to close itself off from the others, because the essence of the subject has no need for external recognition. The three simplified subject concepts are all represented in capitalist society. Although they contradict each other, they have a remarkable ability to coexist. Child care and education, the media, and political ideologies have all developed many cliches about the subject, a truism for every occasion. A person must intermittently be able to be sensitive and reasonable and regard any part of himself as a medical problem; he must be able to be spontaneous and reflective, altruistic and fiercely independent. The latent contradiction does not express itself as long as individual identity adheres to a single subject concept: house\vives, artists, and pedagogues are usually "humanists," \vhile scientists, doctors, and generals are "mechanists," and so on. Ho\vever, there are historical reasons for the failure of the individual identity to adhere to any one concept. These reasons result from the fact that the three social spheres must constantly cooperate for society as a \vhole to function. Production and consumption must balance ideally, the sphere of intinlacy must provide the labor po\ver necessary for the sphere of production. When this cooperation fails, economic crises develop that nlercilessly penetrate the fragile autonomy of the separate spheres, thus causing subjective crises in \vhich the subjects lose their ideological points of reference. Fixed values become fluid \vhen economic considerations interfere \vith the closed \vorId of ideologies. A typical example is \vhen \VOnlen during an economic boonl are

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encouraged to enter the labor nlarket. This devclopnlent is justified by the liberalistic subject concept (\VOnlen have equal oppornlnity, they can support thenlselves and be trained in the la\vs of reason and calculation). During a slump, ho\vever, \VOnlen are sent back to the confines of the sphere of intimacy and society then emphasizes the blessings of \VOnlanhood, motherhood, and spontaneity. In the last thirty years of the nineteenth century, there \vas a general tendency for the simple subject concepts to change character. Having previously described subjects \vho \vere inlll1utable and determined by their o\vn essence, the simple concepts of the subject no\v described subjects \vho \vere historically changeable and \vhose essence \vas environmentally determined. The ne\v and more complex subject concepts did not define the subject as an autonomous being, but rather as if its functions \vere socially determined, in other \vords, dependent on other functions. The mind of the subject began to be seen as containing active processes that it could not control and 'of \vhich it \vas hardly a\vare. The formulation of these ne\v subject concepts sought to achieve a theoretical understanding of these active processes. This led to the abandonment of a great number of illusions concerning the subject and to a more constant adjustment of the understanding of the subject in relation to its actual life. We have discussed these ne\v conlplex subject concepts in the plural, because no ne\v global subject concept as a \vhole \vas developed. Instead, the outdated subject concepts \vere criticized and attempts \vere made to update them. These attempts focused on broadening the understanding of separate functions of the subject in the context of other functions. Thus, the subject in the sphere of production, the sphere of circulation, and the sphere of intimacy still had to be differentiated. Although \ve are a\vare of the dangers of simplification and generalization, \ve \vill in the follo\ving sections discuss (1) ho\v the concept of the subject in the sphere of production (or the subject seen from the perspective of the sphere ofproduction) \vas transformed from being purely mechanistic to positivistic, (2) ho\v the concept of the subject in the sphere of circulation (or the subject seen from the perspective of the sphere of circulation) \vas transformed from being liberalistic to being Marxist, and finally (3) ho\v the concept of the subject in the private sphere (or the subject seen fronl the perspective of the private sphere) was transformed from being humanistic to being psychoanalytical. We will then have tentatively characterized the psychoanalytic subject concept and placed the development of psychoanalysis in a historical and social context.

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1. THE POSITIVISTIC DEVELOPMENT OF THE MECHANISTIC SUBJECT CONCEPT In 1845, several students of the physiologist Johannes Muller formed the Berliner Physikalische Gesellschaft (The Physical Society of Berlin). The most \vell-kno\vn members \vere Hermann Helmholtz, Emil du BoisReymond, Ernst Briicke, and Carl Lud\vig. The society \vas interested in natural science based on materialistic, reductionistic, and mechanistic views. Everything in the universe including all aspects of human consciousness \vas regarded as the result of physical matter and its processes. There are rumors of a Helmholtz school, where mostly young scientists championed the ne\v ideals \vith fanatical zeal. During the 1850s and 1860s, disciples of Helmholtz appeared at most European universities. For example, Briicke became a professor in Vienna ("our ambassador in the Far East," as his Berlin friends called him) \vhere for a number of years he taught Freud. Together \vith Danvin and his disciples, the Helmholtz school also inspired naturalist \vriters, critics, and philosophers, seemingly an indication that mechanistic materialism \vas to flourish over a long period. Ho\vever, this was not to be the case; questions \vere asked that mechanistic materialism \vas unable to ans\ver. For example, in neurophysiology, the localization of even the simplest psychic mechanisms in the nervous system \vas a problem. In the 1870s, the natural sciences under\vent a crisis. In 1872, du Bois-Reymond created a stir by publicly renouncing his former vie\vs. He rejected the possibility of explaining the human subject by using physics and chemistry and claimed that there \vere limits to human kno\vledge. Among the seven riddles of the universe \vere the origins of consciousness and the question of free \vilI. The natural sciences survived the crisis thanks to ne\v developments in the field. These developments have been summarized in the statement "Matter disappears." A theory of kno\vledge replaced mechanistic materialism, \vhich \vas no\v regarded as speculative, not empirical. It \vas founded on the existence of matter, despite the fact that the only givens \vere subjective sensory impressions. Sensory impressions formed the ne\v basis for the natural sciences, a basis more limited, but at the same time more secure, than that of Inaterialism. Different positivistic schools emerged from this ne\\' vie\v. In Germany, Ernst Mach \vas a typical example. In

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1872, he formulated three ainls for scientific research: (1) to study the la\vs of the connections bet\.veen ideas, (2) to discover the la\vs of the connections bet\.veen perceptions, and (3) to clarify the la\vs of the connections bet\.veen perceptions and ideas. Mach called these three aims psychology, physics, and psychophysics. His formulations were accepted by psychologists and physicists alike (ho\vever, it should be noted that Fechner's and Mach's psychophysics differed). Positivisnl did not, ho\vever, aflcct the research nlethods of the natural sciences. A descriptive classification nlethod and an experinlental nlethod (and a clinical pathological nlethod in nlcdicine) still donlinated the field. Ho\vever, the positivists refrained fronl creating general hypothetical nl0dels on the basis of the results of thcir research, and the natural sciences therefore lost sonle of their fonner unifonn character. Innunlerable research laboratories \vere establishcd \vhere specific problcnls \vere nlcticulously investigated. In the field of psychology, the great pioneer was Wilhelnl Wundt \vho continu~d Fechner's \vork by perfornling nUlnerous experinlents on hunlan psychic and psychophysical reactions. The consideration of the subject as a totality, \vhich even Fechner had Inaintained, \vas thus abandoned. A sinlilar tendency can be traced in psychiatry, where Enlil Kraepelin's \vork donlinated the field. Kraepelin abandoned conlprehensive anatomical and etiological theories in favor of a description of symptoms and classification of nlental illness according to these synlptonls. Positivism nleant doing a\vay \vith nlaterialisln, but not \vith mechanisnl. Comprehensive materialistic theorics \vere abandoned and Theodor Meynert \vas considered a prescientific brain nlythologist because he based his \\'ork on general hypothetical models. Ho\vever, data \vere regarded as objective kno\vledge and therefore subjected to nlathenlatical and statistical examination. The reintroduction of thc observing subject \vas thus only a reintroduction of a passive and nlechanical subject. The question is then \vhat relation the positivistic version of the nlCchanistic subject concept has to the sphere of production, and why the original nlaterialistic version \vas replaced. Wc have already indicated that the mechanistic subject concept is not the basis for the self-kno\vlcdge of any group or class. Its function is not to isolate the sphere of production and protect it from outside influcnce. Its function is nlore to safeguard the sphere of production's control of the sphere of circulation and the sphere of intimacy. Materialistic mechanisnl \vas not suitcd to this task because it totally destroyed the ideological basis and consequently the viability of these spheres. Without sonle ideological basis in religious, nloral, or denl

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ocratic ideals, these spheres collapse-at any rate in the fornl they assunle in capitalist society. Mechanistic l11aterialisnl thus originally emerged as a threat to bourgeois nornlS and values. Conversely, the sphere of production could not bar itself fronl influencing the t\vo other spheres. This \vould risk dangerous political organization around the self-evident denl0cratic and hunlanistic ideals of these spheres leading to a democratization and humanization of the sphere of production. Positivistic nlechanisnl thus renlains the nlost effective instrument the sphere of production has to control the t\vo other spheres ideologically. First, it is not offensive since it only ans\vers the questions it is asked. All ideological values posing no threat to the sphere of production are thus left intact. Second, positivistic mechanisnl surrounds itself \vith an aura of scientific objectivity. It only deternlines \vhat is true or false and not \vhat is desirable or reprehensible, and it is presunled to serve any political interest \vith an equal anlount of loyalty. Third, it has been able to provide desired results in research by selecting questions, generating concepts and categories, and deternlining norms a priori. An important cause of the triumph of positivism over materialism at the end of the nineteenth century \vas the massive support industry gave to many ne\v research laboratories, \vhich \vere very flexible in the selection of research projects. The entire research process follo\ved scientific norms to the letter, but there \vas no method for determining what "vas to be the subject of research. Research projects therefore often served industry. In psychology laboratories to\vard the end of the century only rather harmless experiments \vere conducted in perception and association. Ho\vever, the scientific apparatuses developed as a result of these experiments \vere later used to classify individuals according to intelligence and labor capacity.

2. MARXISM AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE LIBERALISTIC SUBJECT CONCEPT The democratic constinnions of the nineteenth century o\ved much to liberal ideology. Citizens and especially businesses \vere granted freedom in the sphere of circulation. Ho\vever, this freedom \vas based on private property, so that only citizens o\vning a certain amount of property could vote for parliament. Freedom \vas not, even in the long term, extended to include the sphere of production and the sphere of intimacy. In the sphere of production, the employer had absolute po\ver to nlanage and delegate J

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labor po\ver, and in the sphere of intinlacy fathers could evoke the sanctity of private life and tyrannize over the fanlily. If this linlited freedom in the sphere of circulation had any value \vhatsoever, it accrued to the enlployers and nlale heads of families. Freedom \vas nevertheless regarded as sonlCthing to be defended by all. The liberalistic subject concept, \vhich emphasized free \vill, reason, and responsibility, \vas in principle universal. In the name of liberalism, those \vithout property \vere brought up to exhibit self-discipline and responsibility to\vard employers and the state. In his seminal \vork, Capital (Marx, K. 1867-1894), Karl Marx criticized the entire basis of liberal econonlics. His analysis sho\ved that the "frec" circulation of commodities on the market actually served the accumulation of capital. The better free circulation functioned, the Inore capital \vas accumulated at the expense of the \vorkers. This fundamental critique of liberal economics \vas consistently repeated as a critique of the bourgeois state and the liberalistic subject concept. Marx did not formulate an independent psychologica~ theory, but he did recognize sonle connections benveen the consciousness of the subject and its social status, \vhich can be regarded as a ne\v subject concept. While the liberalistic concept of the subject has free \vill as its official trademark, the Marxist subject concept is seemingly characterized by mechanism. This nlay appear paradoxical in light of Marx's support for the emancipation of the \vorking class and his emphasis on the coercive nature of capitalist society. However, this paradox is only apparent. The liberalistic concept of the subject disguises the actual coercion. Marx \vith his mechanism attempted to eX'pose this coercion in, the context of a future emancipation. For Marx, the freedom to buy and sell commodities at market price \vas fundamentally a false freedom. The primary focus of the Marxist subject concept is alienation. It originates in Hegelian philosophy and indicates a state in which the subject has created an object over \vhich it loses control; tllis object then starts to control the subject. rn religion, alienation -develops \vhen nlan creates a God \vho determines \vhat man should do, and sOl1letinles even controls his actions. In politics, alienation arises when the citizen creates a state that not only suppresses his interests, but starts to control hinl. In econonlics, alienation appears when a \vorker produces conlnlodities that the capitalist transforms into a huge capital apparanls suppressing and inlpoverishing the \vorker. It is especially this last fornl of alienation that Marx analyzed. For Marx, the essence of the subject \vas to work and produce conlnl0dities but in capitalist society this essence is not identical \vith the consciollsness of the subject, that is its understanding of itself and society. The subject

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\vorks, but does not perceive itself as a working soul. Through labor it loses part of itself in the product. Labor has become reified, and in the sphere of circulation the subject cannot recognize itself in the form of the product. The product appears as an independent being, a fetish. It exerts an almost nlystical magical po\ver and enthralls its creator in passive fascination. In any case sonlething of value has been lost through this process. It has been accunlulated as dead labor in capital, \vhich as an independent overlapping subject regulates production as well as circulation. Alienation sphere of circulation

sphere of production

subject

capital

living labor

~

false consciousness

/

dead labor

implies that the consciousness of the subject has been separated from its essence. False consciousness is the ideological self-perception of the sphere of circulation (free \vilt reason, self-discipline) and social perception (free circulation of con1ffiodities, private property, democracy, equality before the la\v). The sphere of circulation is a closed system functioning as if it \vere autonomous, thus fulfilling its primary function as a tool of capital. The \vorkers cannot resist because their false consciousness prevents thenl from breaking a\vay from capitalist ideology. Ho\vever, they experience blatant injustices in their daily lives inconsistent \vith liberal ideals. Marx concluded from this econonlic analysis that the workers had a moral right to capitalist \vealth. This right could be realized by repossessing the alienated labor through the fornlation of unions and political organizations. Denlocracy and freedonl should not be linlited to the sphere of circulation, but rather extended to enconlpass the sphere of production. This vie\v brings us to the confrontation benveen socialisnl and liberalisnl, \vhich lies outside the scope of this book. The Marxist subject concept considers labor the essence of the subject. These analyses inlply that this essence can be hidden fronl the subject or can be expressed in a distorted fornl. Although false consciousness is a result of capital, capital is produced by labor. Consequently~ the \vorker must understand the dependence of capital on his labor. Criticisnl of consciousness leads to criticisnl of free \"ill, \vhich is closely linked to consciousness in the liberalistic subject concept. If you do not knO\V the causes of your actions, you cannot clainl that you are acting freely. Workers

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are alienated and not free because they see an explanation for the causes of their labor in ideological terIllS. They can explain \vhy they go to work, \vhy they bring up their children the \vay they do, and why they join a particular political party, but this a\vareness is only coherent because of ideologies. Abolishing alienation and recapturing freedonl can only conle about if the \vorkers obtain a correct understanding of their position in society and if they renlove the external barriers preventing them fronl acting freely. The Marxist subject concept can be regarded as an alternative to the liberalistic one because it is based on a different analysis of the sphere of circulation. The Marxist and liberalistic analyses both elllploy conlnl0dity exchange as a nl0del for the subject concept but Marxisnl extends this perspective by regarding labor po\ver as a conlnl0dity. The explanation for surplus value is thus no longer in the sphere of circulation, but in the sphere of production, because value is created by labor. Both the Marxist and liberalistic subject concepts hold that the subject is bound to satisfy its needs under the guidance of reason. Ho\vever, Marxist analysis sees this reason not only as the narro\v, ideological reason of the sphere of circulation, but as the reason of society as a whole. Both concepts employ the term Jreedol1z. Liberalistic freedom is individual, based on competition benveen individuals, and only lilllited by the legal rights of other individuals. Marxist freedonl is collective and consists of the greatest possible satisfaction of natural needs. This view comes close to Spinoza's definition of freedom as insight into necessity. As in the mechanistic subject concept, Marx tended to create l11echanistic general ITIodels where nature, society, and the subject were included as objective entities. Ho\vever, Marx believed that the subject had the power to change history if it became aware of its o\vn deternlination. Marx's concept of history therefore contained an elcnlent of freedom. In relation to the humanistic subject concept, there are nlany similarities especially benveen Hegel and Marx. Both employed a dialccticallTIodel in \vhich the subject realized itself through alienation and a reintegration of the alienated object. For Marx, labor constituted the essence of the subject, and it \vas through labor that the subject realized itself. For Hegel, labor \vas only the manifestation of a deeper desire that could be expressed in other \vays. On this issue Hegel was a genuine representative for the humanistic concept of the subject in attempting to isolate enl0tions and desire as the sources of an understanding of the essence of the subject. By choosing labor as a category, Marx placed the subject in the sphere of

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production. He \vas then able to analyze phenomena relating to the spheres of production as \vell as circulation. Ho\vever, he reduced the sphere of intinlacy to a reproductive sphere sinlply bending to the coercion of econonlic processes. This prevented hinl from analyzing the consequences of the sYITIptonls of crisis in the sphere of intimacy such as the pathological organization of desire, which in Ulrn pointed to sexuality as a factor in the social dynanlic.

3. PSYCHOANALYSIS AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE MECHANISTIC SUBJECT CONCEPT The goal of the enlpirical and later positivistic theory of kno\vledge was to purge the disruptive influence of emotions from the knowledge of the \vorld. The ideal for the scientific observer was a passive and neutral consciousness \vithout personal expectations and biases. The views of most fanatic ronlantics \vere dianletrically opposed to this. According to them, consciousness could first enter the enlotional depths \vhen it \vas isolated fronl its envirorunent. They did not regard enl0tions as part of the organic condition of the body, but instead thought ofthenl as spiritual and timeless. Enl0tions \vere like buried treasure hardly able to bear the intolerant curiosity of the present and sure to die out if attempts \vere nlade to convert them into something of concrete value. They \vere vulnerable and fragile and therefore had to be protected against the degradation that was all too often their fate in society. We have already argued that romantic sensitivity \vas acrually a result of the pedagogy of capitalism with its emphasis on surveillance and selfdiscipline and on the separation and delinlitation of the sphere of intimacy fronl the other social spheres. The sphere of intinlacy \vas developed around internalized sexuality and the consequent tense enl0tional ties \vithin the fanlily. ROlllantic ideology and the humanistic subject concept contributed to 11laking the sphere of intinlacy a closed and autonomous system. In ronlantic utopias, the sphere of intinlacy \vas extended to encompass a sclfcontained paradisiacal state of naUlre \vhere negative enlotions and cold calculation \vere banished. The realization of such a paradise necessitated kno\vledge of ho\v enlotions \vere expressed before the fall into the materialistic contelnporary \vorld. Poets and philosophers becaITIe sclf-proclaillled prophets of true enl0tion. It is characteristic that they did not J

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provide a subtle clllpirical description of the en10tions (for exan1ple, listing different en10tions by nan1e), choosing instead to posit the ideal essence of en10tions before contact \vith concrete objects. According to this vie\v, the sensual con1ponents of en10tions \vere also irrelevant. In light of the developlllent of the sphere of intilllacy in the course of the nineteenth century, it is understandable that rOlllantic ideas could not continue to function as a basis for the self-perception of falllily n1en1bers. As a result of the constant pressures of society and ne\v den1ands on the sphere of intin1acy, crises and conflicts developed in fan1ily life, the consequences of \vhich affected won1en first and foren10st. The intense en10tions described in books \vere there, to be sure, but they \vere linked to fantasies and longings, the realization and satisfaction of which the books ignored. The beauty of this distant \vorld did not appear and \vas difficult to see in daily life. Upper-class \VOlnen n1ay have passed the tillle \vith reading and n1usic and lower-class \VOn1en with hard and n10notonous house\vork, but both groups could not express their en10tions socially or sexually. Taking the boundaries of sexual life at the tin1e into account, it is clear that \VOn1en \vere reduced to being childbearers and passive objects of n1ale sexuality. Sexual gratification for \VOn1en \vas hardly a subject of discussion. Couples \vho did not \vant children \vere vimlally prevented from having sexual contact because of the lack of contraceptives. Generally, l11arriage and the nuclear fan1ily seen1 to have been an extren1ely unsatisfactory arrangelllent for en10tional and sexual life. The n10re the \voman expected fron1 n1arriage, the greater \vas her disappointn1ent in her trivial daily existence and her husband's lack of en10tion. Fron1 the n1iddle of the nineteenth century, fiction began to deal specifically \vith this problen1 and to describe different possibilities for enlotional devclopnlent. The possibility of divorce \vas thus treated by Flaubert in Madame BOlJary (Flaubert 1857) and later by writers such as Hennan Bang in Ved Vejen (By the Road) (Bang 1886). Flight fron1 n1arriage \vas described by J. P. Jacobsen in Marie Grubbe (Jacobsen 1876) and by Henrik Ibsen inA Doll)s House (Ibsen 1879). We have already discussed sOlne exalllpies in section I.B.6: Jacobsen's examination of the life-long consequences of a n1otherchild relationship in Niels Lyhne (Jacobsen 1880) and the descriptions by the Goncourt brothers and Ibsen of the transforn1ation of enlotions into nervousness and neuroses. Marriage and the nuclear fanlily \vere also criticized fron1 the perspective of the man and child. Most of August Strindberg's \vork depicts n1arriage

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as a catastrophe for the husband (because of the crinlinal nature of wonlen). In his autobiographical The Son ofa Servant (Strindberg 1886), the nuclear fanlily is bnItally criticized. It is more difficult to find a sinlilar theoretical assessment of the romantic elTIotional ideology. The natural sciences reduced emotions to a psychic expression of different corporal states, primarily exanlined in connection with the question of how instincts and needs could be controlled, regulated, and satisfied in a lTIOre rational nlanner. Psychological subtleties \vere thus lost, of course, and no natural scientist could explain the paradoxes and crises of enlotional life as they \vere expressed in the sphere of intimacy. Hysteria and other neuroses \vere disnlissed as exhibitionism and at best treated by diets and cures in health resorts. Only in philosophy can we see the beginnings of a theoretical elaboration and critique of romanticism on its o\vn ternlS. We are referring to the nascent phenomenology and existentialism of Hegel and Kierkegaard. Both recognized emotions and desire as the basis for the subject's interest in the \vorld. They did not regard desire as an internal inullutable essence existing prior to its encounter \vith its surroundings, but ackIl0\vledged the existence of alienated desire. The subject could not develop by holding desire within itself (or in the sphere of intinlacy, for that matter), but \vas forced to risk it in the \vorld in order to attain self-realization. Enlotions expressed during this process \vere real, not alienated desire. We have thus come to \vhat we \vill call the scientific critique of the rOlTIantic and humanistic subject concept-psychoanalysis. Like the romantics, Freud \vas interested in enlotions and affects, anxiety, hate, and desire. Because of his training in the natural sciences, he tended to assign the affects to corporal drives and instincts, but he carefully avoided narrow causal explanations. A focal point of his concept was his belief that drives \vere first developed as partial drives during the encounter benveen the individual and his environment. For the child, this encounter took place in the sphere of intinlacy, or "in the bosom of the farnily." Emotions, perceptions, and impulses appearing in the conscious ego could, of course, be traced back to a drive, but drives developed in the unconscious according to a conlplex set of nIles. Freud fornlulated a number of scientific hypotheses on the unconscious, its genesis, its function, and its ability to influence consciousness. One causal chain led back to the functions of the body and the biologically inherited reflexes of the nervous system. Ho\vever, another led out to\vard the sphere of intinlacy and society. Concrete experiences fronl the sphere of intilnacy and the other social spheres settled

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under given circunlstances in the unconscious in the fonn of repressed ideas and fantasies, thereby attaining equal status \vith biological inheritance as internal parts of the subject's being. Psychoanalytic concepts are conlposed so as not to close the sphere of intimacy despite the fact that they are silllilar to traditional psychological concepts in Inany respects. Any conscious enlotion or thought ahvays has unconscious roots. The unkrlO\Vn and unconscious in the subject is constantly interacting \vith the unkrlO\Vn and unconscious in society. All the structures atlecting the subject, all the rules the subject obeys, exist as elenlents in tlle unconscious. Freud therefore believed that tlle essencc of the subject \vas not conlprised of the conscious ego or of a scientifically indefinable nletaphysical individuality. A dishanllonious relationship benveen tlle unconscious and the conscious in the subject-as kno\vn in neuroses-is rooted in the sanlC causes as the dishanllonious relationship benveen tlle social spheres. The econonlic crises of society make it impossible for the subject tOlsolate and consolidate itselfin tlle sphere of intimacy around sOlne "eternally hunlan" values. Sooner or later economic crises nlanifest theillselvcs as subjective crises. The developnlent of psychoanalysis is thus merely a necessary historical reaction to the crisis of the subject in capitalist society, an attenlpt to replace the obsolete humanistic concept of the subject \Vitll a nc\v and nlore appropriate one.

II

FREUD AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

INTRODUCTION TO PART II

We have chosen to begin our presentation of psychoanalysis \vith a chronological examination of Freud's life. This biographical outline \vill afford us the opportunity to sho\v ho\v Freud acquired the personal, social, and academic assumptions for his \vork, and ho\v he combined his experiences in the formation of psychoanalytic theory. This part of the book does not contain any analysis of theory or comparison of psychoanalytic concepts \vith their historical background, \vhich \vill be treated later. However, a chronological presentation of the inception of psychoanalysis in particular can contribute to an understanding of \vhat psychoanalysis is, because it illustrates the logical relationship benveen the problems Freud encountered, his attempts to solve these problems, and the appearance of ne\v problen1s. Freud's conceptual frame\vork \vas constructed in stages, \vhich enables us to comprehend \vhy old and ne\v concepts sometimes contradict each other. We do not intend to emphasize Freud's personality in our presentation by explaining the development of psychoanalysis as a result of his genius, stubbornness, or incorruptibility, as some have done. Freud and psychoanalysis are inextricably linked for other, more concrete reasons. First, Freud united the necessary prerequisites for the development of psychoanalysis: he belonged to a petite bourgeoisie \vhose identity \vas threatened by social developments; he had himself experienced the neurotic constrictions of the petit bourgeois family and the strict sexual mores of bourgeois society; he had learned the basic views of the rapidly developing natural sciences and the socially critical ideals of the naturalist enlightenment; he effortlessly combined his specialist training in neuroanatomy and neuropathology \vith a deep and all-consuming interest in art, literature, and philosophy; and, due to various circumstances, he \vas forced to abandon his career in the natural sciences at the university and devote himself to \vork \vith private

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neurotic patients. Second, it is evident that Freud ahvays seemed to make the right decisions on the developnlent of psychoanalysis in difficult situations. Freud stood alone during the entire period of the inception of psychoanalysis because his closest colleagues, Breuer and Fliess, each objected to crucial aspects of psychoanalytic theory. During the establishment of the psychoanalytic movement, it \vas Freud \vho consistently rejected Jung's and Adler's theories. Only to\vard the end of the 1920s and in the 1930s did Freud lose his steady grip on psychoanalysis and it \vas during this period that the seeds \vere so\vn for the various Freudian schools that still exist today. We have decided to end our presentation \vith Freud's death in 1939, leaving for another book the fate of psychoanalysis after Freud. For the same reason, \ve do not discuss \vriters who \vere already active in the field in the 1920s and 1930s, but \vho did not come into their o\vn and form schools until after World War II: ego psychologists such as Anna Freud, Walder, Nunberg, and Hartmann; the Freudian Marxist Wilhelm Reich; and fantasy- and symbol-oriented analysts like Melanie Klein and Jacques Lacan.

A.

FREUD'S BACKGROUND

During Freud's lifetime, Austria \vas a \vorld po\ver on the \vane. Once the dominant state in the German coalition after the Vienna Congress in 1815, Austria \vas gradually outdistanced by Prussia. Headed by ~letter­ nich, the political leadership of Austria \vas extremely conservative, crushing all liberal movements \vith an iron fist. In 1848, \vhen much of Europe erupted in revolt in the \vake of the French February Revolution, the liberals took po\ver in Vienna. Metternich fled the country, and the kaiser abdicated in favor of his nephe\v, the self-proclaimed liberal Franz Joseph. In June 1848, radical groups took po\ver and Vienna \vas transformed into a veritable "Paris Commune," \vhich, ho\vever, \vas short-lived. The city \vas besieged in October and then attacked, culminating in the slaughter of radical \vorkers and students. As a grinl reminder of this massacre, mutilated bodies could be found in the trenches long after the event. Kaiser Franz Joseph I, \vho soon revealed his deeply reactionary vie\vs, occupied the throne until 1916. During his reign, Austria \vas governed in turn by conservative and liberal ministers. Behind the scenes, ho\vever, the capitalist bourgeoisie \vielded the real po\ver. Among its reforms \vas improving the educational system. Schooling \vas obligatory for all children bet'\veen six and fourteen years of age. The secondary school system \vas extended and improved. Influential circles in industry primarily supported the technological disciplines, but the natural sciences \vere also considered in a positive light. Prussia's Bismarck declared \var on Austria in 1866. Prussia emerged victorious, despite the initial support Austria received from the other member states of the German coalition. Austria \vas excluded from the coalition after the \var, \vhich crippled its po\ver. To case the pressure of gro\ving nationalist sentiment, the Magyars \vere granted partial autononlY in the establishment of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1867. Nationalist

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confEcts involving other minorities (Czechs, Slovaks, Scrbs, and Croats) persisted, ho\vever, and the country tecmed with terrorists, \vho murdered prominent political figures in the name of one cause or another. In 1914, the Austrian cro\vn prince \vas assassinated in Sarajevo, \vhich \vas the spark that ignited World War 1. After the \var, the dual monarchy \vas abolished, and Austria, drastically rcduced, emerged in its present form. During the period of national crisis after 1848, industry in Austria expanded at a rapid ratc. The cver-gro\ving working class began to express its aims politically, and many academics are said to havc harbored socialist sympathies. This development precipitated pronounced reactionary tendencies among the bourgeoisie and the petite bourgeoisie of the 1880s and 1890s. Particularly in Vienna, a lively cultural atmosphere flourished, \vith movements and schools of every stripe. The reactionary bourgeoisie closed ranks around Victorian mores, \vhile radical leftist clements plunged headlong into all sorts of sectarianisms. As a \vhole, cultural life grew increasingly decadent, and the universities became the scenes of fatal conflicts among competing theories. One could compare.fin de siecle Vienna \vith Paris in the 1960s and 1970s, \vhere the dissolution of a former great po\ver also fostered many different cultural and political activities.

1. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH (1856-1873) Freud (his first name Sigismund \vas later n10dernized to Sigmund) \vas born in 1856 in Freiberg, about 150 miles from Vienna. His family belonged to the German -speaking Jc\vish lo\ver middle class. His father, Jacob Freud, \vas in the \vool trade, an industry \vhich was based on local production. The 1848 revolution had brought about an increase in national libcration movements throughout Austria, and the German minority in Moravian Freiberg could not ignore the gro\vth of Czech nationalism (F reiberg is no\v part of Czechoslovakia). The revolution had also generated industrial development, \vhich adversely affected the many small \vool manufacturers in thc rural districts. Freiberg, once a prominent trade city locatcd on a main trade route, undenvcnt a steady decline after a ne\v raihvay \vas built bypassing the city in the 1840s. Local \vool production gradually came to a standstill, affecting the \vool trade, \vhich \vas the primary means of subsistence for the Freud family. Rampant inflation in the 1850s further impoverished it. During thc 1859 economic crisis, a J

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result of Austria's ,var ,vith Italy, the family moved to Vienna, ,vhere antiSemitic legislation had been partially repealed in 1848. In Vienna, the family apparently managed to subsist on a modest income from the i.tlterest on savings from the sale of Freud's father's business. The rest of the savings ,vere given to Jacob Freud's t\vo adult sons from his first marriage. They enugrated to England, ,vhere they managed quite well. The little information \ve have on Freud's childhood comes from his books and letters. He ,vas the first child of Jacob Freud's third marriage. His father ,vas forty ,vhen Freud 'vas born; his mother, Amalie, only t\venty. His nlother lavished love and affection on hin1 (he al,vays remained her ''goldener Sigi"), and Freud regarded his father and half brothers as dangerous rivals. He ,vas also very close to an old Czech nanny, a Catholic, ,vho took him to church. His imagination was stimulated by her hairraising tales of heaven and hell, guilt and punishment. She \vas dismissed for theft ,vhen Freud ,vas t\vo and a half years old. Freud's half brother Philipp reported the theft, ,vhich earned him hatred in the fantasies of his younger brother. Freud also had t\vo playmates his age, Emil and Gisela Fluss, ,vho later appeared in a memory from childhood (see III.B.1.a). Leaving Freiberg ,vas a traumatic experience for Freud. The family's first stop \vas Leipzig, \vhere Freud's father planned to continue his business. At the train station in Brcslau, Freud sa\v gaslights for the first time. He associated these lights ,vith burning souls in hell. Mer several months in Leipzig, Freud's mother and her children traveled to Vienna alone. One night during the trip, Freud sa,v his mother naked, which aroused sexual desire in him. From that time on, he had a neurotic anxiety of train trips (see the analysis of the forgetting of the name Signorelli, III.B.1. b). Freud's early childhood ,vas profoundly engraved in his memory, because it formed a sharp contrast to his life in Vienna. The move to Vienna from Freiberg was in no ,vay an improvement. Freud had moved from an open rural environment to a confining apartment in a big city, from relative economic prosperity to poverty, from prestige and respect to anonymity. The fate of Freud's family is typical of the historical proletarianization of the petite bourgeoisie. This proletarianization did not result in any political consciousness, although Freud's father ,vas a warm supporter of the liberal ministeries that from time to time were given power in Austria. Freud regarded his childhood years in Vienna as harsh, and preferred not to be reminded of them. He did occupy, however, a privileged position in the household, \vith five younger sisters and one brother ,vho ,vas ten years younger. All the available evidence points to rigid gender roles. The oldest

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son became the hope of the family, \vhile the girls \vere left to cope for themselves. One of Freud's sisters played the piano, but it \vas sold because her playing disturbed his studying. Even though Freud's father \vas not so strict or authoritarian, Freud nevertheless regarded him as the epitome of rules and punishment and as an ideal \vorthy of emulation (he later \vrote that for the son, the father is "the most powerful, the \visest, and the richest"). The fact that his father soon revealed himself to be \veak, pathetic and some\vhat of a failure only confirmed Freud's desire to succeed. His choice of childhood heroes illustrates ho\v he identified with outsiders who succeeded in society on their own: Alexander the Great, Hannibal, Crom,veil, and Napoleon. Freud ,vas some,vhat of a rebel and despised his father's hwnility toward those who were stronger. It ,vas especially shocking to hear his father relate an episode from his youth, ,vhen a passerby, greeting him ,vith the ,vords "Je\v, get off the pavement," knocked his hat into the gutter. His father apparently put up no resistence to this abuse. In his youth, Freud developed a passionate interest for literature, which steered his fantasies and dreams along ne,v paths. His knowledge of art and literature ,vas unusually broad. He could read several languages and many literary classics counted among his favorite reading (Shakespeare, Cervantes, Milton, Goethe, and so on). Interestingly enough, at the gymnasiun1 Freud received a prize for his translation of Sophocles' Greek verse on King Oedipus, a figure \vho, of course, profoundly marked psychoanalytic theory. Austrian industry enjoyed an upswing after the 1848 revolution but in 1873 the so-called Black Friday suddenly halted the boom. Too n1any stocks had been issued in unstable businesses, and the crash brought financial catastrophe for many small stockholders. The industrial bourgeoisie and financiers prospered \vhile the petite bourgeoisie and the \vorkers suffered. Freud's father lost the rest of his savings. The fan1ily apparently n1anaged to survive \vith the help of relatives on his n10ther's side. It \vas in this year of crisis that Freud \vas to choose his career after graduating frol11 the gymnasiun1. Thus 1873 \vas in many respects a break in his lifc. For thc previous six years he had been first in his class. The curriculun1 in the gynu1asiun1 consisted of a classical hlunanist education, \vhich certainly contributed to safeguarding the illusions of the pauperized petite bourgeoisie, but did not provide any guidelines for a fuulre career. Languages and the arts held out no hope for tl1e furore. There \vas a tradition in Je\vish circles to pursue a career in industry trade la\V and .I

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nledicine. Business did not attract Freud, since it \vas the cause of his father's penury, and nloreover, it did not sit \vell \vith his hunlanistic ideals. La\v and medicine renlained, and for a tinle Freud \vas inclined to choose la\\' on the advice of his friend, the future socialist leader Heinrich Braun. According to Freud, his decision to choose nledicine instead \vas nlotivated by a lecture he heard on Goethc's concept of nanlre. He found in this concept a conlbination of the hunlanities and the natural sciences and thus a compronlise benveen his personal interests and economic necessity. He did not have any fundanlental interest in curing the sick, only a passion for exploring the riddle of nlan.

2. UNIVERSITY STUDIES AND HOSPITAL TRAINING (1873-1886) Freud maintained close contact \vith his f.'lnlily throughout most of his student years. He lived at honle until he \vas nventy-seven. In 1883, he got a roonl at the hospital \vard \vhere he \vorked. During this period, his personal development \vas to a great degree influenced by his financial status. His family suffered privation because of his studies, and Freud borro\ved considerable SUIns fronl friends and teachers at the university. His only luxury \vas books. Sonle of the dreanlS analyzed in The Interpretatioll of Drea111S (Freud 1900a) stenl fronl his financial problems, such as the dream about the botanical monograph, \vhich will be discussed later (see III.A.2.b). Freud probably did not have sexual relations before his marriage, and he undenvent several personal neurotic crises, \vhich nlay have contributed to his later understanding of the nature of neuroses. During his student years, he spoke of his o\vn neurasthenia (an enlotional and psychic disorder characterized by easy fatigability). At the tinle he believed that his neurasthenia was caused by overexertion, but he later developed the theory that the loss of tension in the nervous system was caused by excessive masturbation. He attempted to treat these symptoms by using cocaine and almost became an addict. In spite of f.'ltigability and occasional lapses in concentration, Freud \vas, as a whole, a very diligent student, tackling cvcn the most trivial acadclnic tasks effectively when it \vas demanded of him. Many of his teachers and friends canle to playa father role for him, and some of the impetus behind his grandiose anlbitions and many collaborations followed by estrangemcnt assunledly stenlnled

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fronl his father tie. The tunllIluloUS naUlre of these relationships fornled the personal background for Freud's discovery of the Oedipus complex. During his first years of study, Freud sho\ved a many-sided interest in social and political issues. As could be expected of someone \vho had personally witnessed the petite bourgeoisie being deprived of its economic foundation, Freud \vas attracted by the radical ideas that flourished at the university. He belonged to a reading circle that held discussions on political and philosophical issues. There \vas a great deal of pan-German sentiment in these discussions. The circle felt that Austria should be reunited with Germany. German culture \vould save the "degenerate" Austrian empire and would point the way to social equality and justice. When this panGerman movement assumed fascist characteristics (totalitarian organization, anti-Semitism) at the end of the 1870s, Freud \vas understandably disappointed, and subsequently confined himself to a bourgeois democratic vie\v \vith no connection to political extremism. Especially in the 1870s, the academic standard at the University of Vienna \vas high. The university boasted internationally reno\vned experts in several fields and had also imported a number of prominent scholars from leading German universities. Danvin's and Helmholtz's theories were widely accepted, and, as already mentioned, the university provided a climate conducive to political and philosophical discussions. In 1873, \vhen Freud elnbarked on his study of medicine at age seventeen, it was natural that he attempt to broaden his horizons after his gymnasium period. He therefore attended Franz Brentano's lectures on the history of philosophy during his first years at the university. Up until 1872, philosophical lectures had been obligatory, but Freud attended them voluntarily. Letters from this period indicate that he grappled \vith issues in the history of philosophy. At the time, Freud most admired Kant, and not Brentano's favorite philosophers, Descartes and Leibniz (Brentano has since been recognized as Husserl's teacher and one of the founders of phenomenology). Freud's philosophical interests as \vell as his passion for literature indicate that he \vas in no \vay a narro\v-minded natural scientist. Moreover, Freud, at Brentano's urging, translated some of John Stuart Mill's essays (including those on \vomen's liberation and socialism) in 1880. Freud \vas also attracted by Enlightenment currents in European radicalism, \vhose proponents included Mill and Georg Brandes. "The truth must out" was a paramount demand even if it threatened accepted religious and moral norms. The medical curriculum was rather loosely structured. Required courses

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included chenlistry, botany, minerology, and more traditional subjects in the field of biology. During his early student years, Freud had an ambitious curriculunl, choosing more courses than required. His study plan \vas especially remarkable in light of his financial straits, as he had to pay for every course he took. As early as his third year, Freud conducted independent scientific experiments. This was a time of great scientific discoveries, and Freud obviously hoped to achieve instant reno\vn by his experiments. He \vas assigned by his teacher Carl Claus to investigate \vhether there \vere nlale gonads in eels. Freud dissected about four hundred eels and came to the conclusion that Syrski's hypothesis on the location of the testicles in eels \vas probably correct. He published his findings in a short article (Freud 1877b) that did not, ho\vever, \vin him any recognition. In the fall of 1876, Freud began \vork at Briicke's physiological laboratory. Here too he received independent research assignments. His research was still in marine biology, and his investigat.ions sho\ved ho\v certain nerve cells in a lo\ver species.of fish should be placed in an evolutionary perspective, and that there \vas no measurable difference benveen the nerve cells of lo\ver and higher organisms. Moreover, Freud invented a method for coloring nerve tissue, thus facilitating the study of anatomical specimens. Alongside his research, he attended survey courses in medicine \vithout, ho\vever, exhibiting great interest in them (\vith the exception ofMeynert's lectures in psychiatry). According to Freud, \vhen he took his medical finals in 1880-1881, three years late, he passed only thanks to his eidetic memory. He almost failed botany because he could not recognize the plants he \vas asked to comment on. It is not difficult to see the direction Freud's snu.iies were taking. His teacher Ernest Briicke (1819-1892) was a ITIenlber of the famous group of four in Berlin headed by Helmholtz, which had fornlulated the basis for a break \vit.h vitalism in the 1840s. Briicke hilTIself \vas a snldent of] ohannes Miiller, \vhose physiological textbook from the 1830s Freud also studied. He supported the use of Helnlholtz's principle of constant energy in physiology, and believed in Danvin's evolutionary theory. Unlike du BoisReymond, he nlaintained his materialistic views and did not believe, as it became increasingly common to do, that concrete enlpirical investigations and general materialistic theories were inexorably opposed. Briicke and Meynert \vere nvo of the last great materialists in the nanlral sciences of their time. Under their tutelage, Freud thus avoided being blinded by the incipient positivism of scientists like Wundt and Kraepelin. Freud, \vho had been a humanist in the spirit of Goethe during his gymnasiunl years,

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becalne a radical materialist thanks to Brticke. The cOlllprehensive vie\v of the universe survived in this form, and Freud defended n1aterialism so vehemently that he at one point during his sUldent years was almost involved in a duel on this issue. Freud was \vith Briicke for SL'X years (1876-1882), until a year after he had taken his finals. Had he been given the opportunity, he \vould probably have pursued a traditional academic career in physiology. As we have n1entioned, he \vas not interested in becoming a physician. Ho\vcvcr, Briicke already had t\vo assistants, Fleischl-Marxow and Exner, who \vere both about ten years older than Freud. In 1882, Briicke therefore advised Freud to become a general practitioner and Freud follo\ved this advice in1n1ediately. A contributing factor to his sudden decision n1ight have been his recent engagen1ent to Martha Bernays. As an assistant at a university, Freud could not support a family. Most assistants had to \vait ten to t\venty years before attaining tenure. Martha Bernays came from a Jewish family son1e\vhat better off than Freud's. Freud's passion for her resulted in an increasing interest in his private life at the expense of his career. The ain1 of his \vork in the follo\ving years \vas to establish a family, both socially and econon1ically. Strong fan1ily ties \vere a Jewish tradition originating in the social discrin1ination of the J e\vs, and Freud believed that his difficulties at the university were caused by anti-Sen1itisn1. His decision to start a fan1ily may have also been to help him pursue his career. Freud's letters to Martha sho\v that despite her lack of kt10\vledge of his \vork, he shared his intrigues, hopes, and disappointn1ents \vith her. Ho\vever, she never becan1e an equal partner in the relationship. For example, \vhen she expressed an interest in Freud's translation of Mill's essay on \vomen's liberation, Freud replied that the essay \vas off the n1ark. If \vomen \vere to enter public life and con1pete on an equal footing \vith n1en, ho\v \votiid they have the time to take care of the household and the children? After graduating fron1 the university, Freud applied to the Vienna AUgemeincr !Cralllullhaus (General Hospital), at the timc one of the leading 111edical ccnters in Europe, \vhere he ren1ained for three years (18821885). Up until then he had had no experience \vith patients, and needed this l11cdical training in order to becon1c a gcneral practitioner. His \vork encompassed thc follo\ving fields: surgery (nvo n10nths), internal n1edicine (six n10nths), psychiatry (five n10nths), dcrn1atology (thrce months), neuropathology (fourteen months), and ophthaln1010gy (three months). Nervous discases obviously interested Freud n10st. He stayed \vith this disci-

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pline for so long that he never conlpleted sUldying the subjects that \vould have qualified hinl as a general practitioner. The nlost 1"C\varding period for Freud \vere the five nl0nths he spent in Meynert's psychiatric clinic (May-October 1883). He had the tinle to read the classics of psychiatry and generally supported Griesinger's and Meynert's neuropathologically oriented psychiatry. His \vork at the Departnlent of Nervous Diseases (1884) \vas less re\varding theoretically. The dcpartnlent econonlized on light as \vell as nlcdicine, so Frcud only 111anaged to conlpletc nlinor expcrinlents, aIll0ng thenl a sUldy of cerebral hcnl0rrhages. Frcud adl11ittcd having once diagnosed a ncurotically induced hcadache as an indication of 111eningitis, so it is clear that at the tinlC he \vas still greatly influenced by traditional neuropathological thought. Throughout this period at the Gcncral Hospital, Frcud devoted lTIuch of his energy to attcl11pts at 111aking a scicntific discovery that \vOliid provide a shortcut to a career. Thc nl0st \Vell-ktl0\Vn attenlpt is Frcud's so-called cocaine episode (1884-1885), in \vhich he \vas one of the first to investigate the medical effccts of cocaine. This episode is revealing bccause of Freud's total ignorancc of thc dangers of cocaine. He gave it to anyone in need of a pick-nle-up (cven to Martha to nlake her strong and rcdden her cheeks) and used it hil11self to conlbat fatigue and depression. The result \vas that Freud \vas regarded in certain circles as the person \vho had given hUlTIanity a third scourge aftcr alcohol and nl0rphine (his friend FleischlMarxo\v from Briickc's laboratory dicd in 1891, partly as a result of cocaine abusc), \vhile Frcud's colleague Kollcr rcaped the glory of being the first to use cocaine as a local anesthetic in cye operations. Freud's use of cocainc, like hypnosis, probably scrved as a point of departurc for psychoanalysis, cspccially in his sUldy of unusual conscious states. In his academic srudics at the hospital, Freud constantly sought to use his considerable kno\vledge of neuroanatonlY in his \vork in neuropathology and psychiatry. His \vork \vas strongly supported by Theodor Meynert ( 1833-1892), \vho \vas professor in both brain anatomy and psychiatry (and in his last years in ncuropathology as \vell). For a til11e, Meynert thus assunlcd Briicke's role as Freud's acadcl11ic ideal. Like Bri.icke, he \vas an inveterate materialist, a great admircr of Fechner (in spite of his lTIaterialism), but \vas opposed to Danvin's evolutionary theory. Hc supported Lotzc's theory of drives as \vell as the theory of cerebral localization. His psychiatric srudics \vcre hcavily influcnccd by Gricsinger, and focused nl0rc on rcsearch than therapy, probably a significant reason for the ultil11ate failure of his \vork. Meynert regarded the therapeutic work conducted at

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vanous sanatoriunlS as unscientific. The conflict ben.veen research and therapy \vas so extrenle that Freud, after serving as an intern at a private sanatorium for nervous diseases in the summer of 1885, \vas afraid to ask for a reconunendation fronl the head of the sanatoriunl, Leidesdorf, \VhOnl he k.tle\V Meynert despised. We have not yet mentioned the figure \vho \vas decisively instrumental in Freud's personal and acadenlic development-Josef Breuer (18421925). Breuer was a physician and \vas highly respected for his academic abilities. He had abandoned a university career, but still participated in scientific research projects alongside his medical practice. He \vas thus a regular visitor to Briicke's laboratory, and it \vas probably there that he and Freud became acquainted around 1880. In theoretical matters, he was a disciple of Hclmholtz and Fechner, but he also possessed a broad cultural background. He \vas the private physician of Freud's philosophy instructor Brentano and corresponded \vith him on philosophical subjects. Moreover, at one point he collaborated \vith the physiologist E\vald Hering, \vith \vhose speculative theory of menl011' as a universal attribute of nlatter Freud also becanle acquainted. Together \vith Hering, Breuer charted the self-regulation of respiration and later laid bare the connection ben.veen corporal coordination and the organ of equilibriunl in the ear. Breuer's significance for psychoanalysis rests on his treatment, fronl 1880-1882, of a wonlan suffering from hysteria. Anna 0., as she \vas called in the case history published in 1895 (Freud [and Breuer] 1895d), \vas a gifted young girl from the upper class. Her illness, \vhich appeared \vhile she nursed her dying father, \vas characterized by alterations ben.veen two states of consciousness. On the one hand, she \vas the nornlal Anna, although nl0re fatigued and in pain than before her illness, and on the other the sick Anna, \vho suffered from hysterical attacks and \vas intractable and nlalicious. The nornlal Anna and the sick Anna k.tle\V literally nothing of each other's existence. During his treatnlent, Breuer discovered that Anna in her abnornlal state could speak several languages and could translate fluently fronl one to the other, \vhile she refused to speak German. Talking calmed her, and Breuer therefore let her talk as nluch as possible. In the beginning she told sinlple fairy tales, but gradually more and more concrete nlenl0ries of the past enlerged. These nlenlories \vere usually accurate renderings of her father's illness. After relating these episodes, Anna \vas nl0re lively and suffered less pain in her nornlal state and renlained in this state for longer periods oftinle. Anna O. called this treatnlent

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the "talking cure" or 4'chinlney s\veeping" (\vhich she said in English), \vhile Breuer spoke of '~catharsis." In the fall of 1882, Breuer infornled Freud of this strange case history. It did not at first fit into Freud's acadenlic conceprual systenl based on neuroanatonlY, but in the long ten11 it becanle instrunlental for his o\vn \vork in psychotherapy and his first steps to\vard the developnlent of psychoanalysis. During this period, Briicke, Meynert, and Brcuer supported Freud's career \vhen hc applied for the position of Privatdozel1t and for a governnlent-sponsored traveling tcllo\vship. A Pril'atdozellt \vas only loosely associated \vith the university, and receivcd no salary, but had the right to givc a fe\v lccrures. Thc appointnlent \vas il11portant because it \vas considered a step on the \vay to a tenured position. Frcud received the appointnlent in 1885 after long ncgotiations, \vith the backing of his three supporters. Freud also received the traveling fello\vship thanks to the intercession of his friends on the f:1culty of 111cdicine. The furure looked bright and promising for Freud \vhen he \vent to Paris in the fall of 1885 to srudy \vith Charcot. His stay in Paris \vas sonle\vhat differcnt fronl \vhat he had expected. As nlentioned earlier, Charcot's fanle rested on his successful description and classification of a nunlber of nervous diseases, \vhile his \vork on hysteria in the 1880s \vas \videly regarded as charlatanisnl. Ho\vever, Freud becal11c quickly enrapnlred by thc atnl0sphere prevailing at Charcot's lectures. While Breuer had only used hypnosis sparingly in his treatnlent of Anna 0., Charcot enlployed it as a general tool for understanding hysteria. His denl0nstrations and casc histories provided Freud \vith a good idea of ho\v thc same abnornlal conscious states and attacks could be induced (and sometimes abolished) by traunlatic experiences, hypnosis, and even autohypnosis. Charcot and his students believed that hysteria and hypnosis could only appear in people \vith innate \veaknesscs in the nervous systenl. In a clinical sense, they \vere talking about a pathological constriction of consciousness and an inability to integrate as causes of the disease. Charcot inspired Freud to embark on a comparative investigation of organic and hysterical paralyses. His results underscored the need for a psychological theory to supplement neurophysiological theory. Moreover, he once heard Charcot say that the genital (Ia cbose gcnitale) ahvays played an etiological role in hysterical \vomen \vith inlpotcnt husbands, a rCI11ark nlade out of context, \vhich later fitted in nicely \vith freud's general theory of the sexual etiology of neuroses. For the nl01TIent, ho\vever, freud was preoccupied

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\vith learning ne\v ideas. In order to proillote \vork on these ideas, he started to translate Charcot's lectures into Gernlan. The first volunle \vas published in 1886. Freud returned to Vienna in the spring of 1886, and was apparently very eager to pass on his ne\v-found kno\vledge. To this end he visited various acadelnic organizations, including the physiological association and the nledical association, but he \vas not received enthusiastically. A lecture on hypnosis caused only enlbarrassnlent because it \vas still regarded as quackery in medical circles, on a level \vith mind reading and spiritualisnl. A lecture on Charcot's theory of hysteria focusing on male hysteria and the traumatic etiology of hysteria nlet \vith a similar fate. Some scientists attenlpted to trivialize the novelty of the theory by renlarking that cascs of nlale hysteria \vere already ktl0\Vn, but extremely rare. Others denied that hysterical symptonls had anything to do \vith shock (for instance, after a train accident) as Charcot clainled. Freud \VaS encouraged to come \vith clinical exanlples, but \vas not allowed to find thenl in Meynert's departnlcnt. He did nlanage to find a case of male hysterical blindness in Gernlany and published findings on thc case. This evidence \vas politely received, but did not generate nluch interest. Thus, in the fall of 1886, Freud had to acktl0\vledge that after one year he had jeopardized a considerable part of the good\vill of his teachers and colleagues. A university position \vas no\v out of the question, and Meynert henceforth becalne a bitter opponent. In cOlulection \vith a discussion of Charcot, Meynert \vrote that Freud had traveled to Paris a \vell-educated neurophysiologist, but had returned a fanatical disciple of suggestion.

B.

THE INCEPTION OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

The crisis of the subject in the sphere of intilnacy fOrIned the general franle\Vork for the inception of psychoanalysis. Capitalist society made ever-increasing, mutually exclusive denlands on the functions of the sphere of intimacy. This pressure on the subject led to increasing "nervousness," neurotically conlplex behavioral patterns \vhere the conscious ego 110 longer controlled its actions, and strange states of consciousness exposing fOrInerly unktl0\Vn aspects of the subject. This entire abundant conlplex of synlptoms and problenls could not be redressed or understood in the franlc\vork of the humanistic subject concept. The firnl belief in the idea of an original and undistorted essence of the subject only obscured the search for what this essence \vas. There \vas little consolation in sharing a "universally hunlan" essence if it \vas obscured in philosophical clouds. To the extent that the subjective crisis actually threatened the functions of the sphere of intimacy, a ne\v basis of understanding for the transfornlation of these functions \vas needed. In the latter half of the nineteenth century, new theories for such a basis \vere fornlulated: phenonlenology and existentialism, \vhich retain the hUlnanistic subject concept; the attel11pt to define the problem frOITI a nledical standpoint by prescribing a nornlalizing treatment of one kind or another; fanatical Inodernisl11 in art that nlade the division of the subject into a virtue (Baudelaire, Rinlbaud, Lautrcamont); and finally psychoanalysis, \vhose advantages over the other theories were its scientific synthesis of theory and praxis and its consciolls critique of ideology. We have mentioned that Freud \vas well trained to deal with the problems of the subject. He kJle\V thenl from his o\vn experience and by a lucky coincidence came to work with them as a physician. Moreover, he had a

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\vide-ranging knowledge of nledical, psychological, and literary descriptions of the subject as well as a considerable talent for combining these descriptions in an undognlatic \vay in the fornlulation of a ne\v concept. In this connection, he made the right choices on at least three points, choices that pointed him in the direction of psychoanalysis, \vhile his colleagues made the \vrong choices and \vere either led astray or made no progress. (1) Freud ahvays anenlpted to incorporate his training in pathology in a general theory of nornlal and pathological phenomena. Obviously, a specialist in fracnlres must kno\v \vhat a healthy bone looks like, and must funhernl0re be aware of the functions of the bone, its rcsistence capabilities, and so on. Sinlilarly, it nlight be assumed that a psychiatrist should not only kIl0\V about nlental disorders, but also about the nornlal functions of the nlind. After the rise of positivisnl, ho\vever, there \vas a nlarked tendency for psychiatrists to preoccupy themselves exclusively \vith madness, \vhile consciously neglecting to formulate general psychological theories (see Kraepelin and his follo\vers). It is note\vorthy that ofFreud's teachers, Charcot only \vrote about pathological phenomena, assuming familiarity \vith the healthy nervous systenl and the sound nlind, \vhile Mcynert conducted a thorough investigation into nonnal psychic processes (association, thought, and learning), and anenlpted to understand the various types of psychic illnesses as specific damage to these processes. Follo\ving Meynert's exanlple, Freud expressed an interest in general theory, in part because he felt that Mcynert's theory and his investigations into mental disorders needed to be inlproved. Freud's \vork can therefore be regarded as an anenlpt to change gcncral theory by making it nlore receptive to ne\v discoveries in pathology and therapy. (2) In choosing a general theoretical franle\vork, Freud gradually distanced hinlself fronl concepts of evolutionary theory and neurophysiology (Danvin, Fechner, and Meyncrt) and nloved to\vard a psychological and literary approach, in \vhich subjective experiences \vere linked to each other in the context of a life history. Ho\vever, in nlaking this transition, Freud continucd to enlploy theories of narural science as abstract nl0dels \vithout their fornlcr biological or neurophysiological contcnt. Such a formal transferral of nlodels fronl one field to another is kno\vn from other scientific advances, for exanlple, \vhcn Danvin dcrived the idea for the principles of cvolution fronl Malthus's population theory. Moreo\'cr, by abandoning the possibility for translating psychological theory to neurophysiological conccpts, Freud \vas able to conlbine nlany different nlodcls. Generally,

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Freud's attenlpt to place subjective data in hypothetical nlodcls led to an understanding of the unconscious \vhich in turn distanced psychoanalysis fronl any fornl of psychology of consciousness. (3) It nlust be stressed that Freud searched consistently for the causes of illness in the subject's nlilieu rather than in its organisnl. Unlike nlost psychiatrists of his tinle, Freud \vas not content to use degeneration theory as an explanation of the causes of 111 ental illness. Instead, follo\ving scientists like Charcot, he eillphasized the role of traunla in nlental illness, and like the nanlralist \vriters Jacobsen, Ibsen, and the Goncourt brothers stressed 111ilieu at the expense of heredity. Freud's etiological explanations \vere related to life history, \vhich, as he hinlself adnlitted, gave his case histories a literary feel. The inception of psychoanalysis was the result of Freud's attenlpt to understand and treat the crises of the subject, and the process of inception developed as a step-by-step harnlonization of concrete theoretical and therapeutic investigations. Each phase in this development can be conlpared to a plateau nlaintaining a certain equilibrium between general theory, the etiological model, and the applied therapy. When this equilibriunl is threatened by ne\v findings that the theory cannot explain or the therapy is unable to treat, the appropriate adjustnlents in one or several areas are made until equilibrium is restored. In the process of establishing psychoanalytic theory, Freud thus developed new concepts and new therapeutic procedures. In doing so, he became a\vare of new aspects of the SYlllptonls of his patients (the traditional interaction of theory and praxis). We have divided the process of inception of psychoanalysis into four phases, each nlarked by progress in therapeutic techniques and the addition of new concepts to general theoretical nl0dcls. The final fornl of psychoanalytic theory thus developed by a gradual addition of new concepts and hypotheses to the rather simple model Freud \vorked \vith toward the end of the 1880s.

1. FIRST PHASE: HYPNOID THEORY AND THE SPLITTING OP CONSCIOUSNESS (1886-1892) In April 1886, Freud started his o\vn nledical practice as a specialist in neuropathological diseases, and in September of the same year he married Martha after a four-year engagement. They evennlally had six children,

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born bcnveen the years 1887 and 1895 (thc youngest ofthen1, fuu1a Freud, became a \vell-kno\vn psychoanalyst). Freud's paramount problem \vas ho\v to provide for his falnily. He was forced to supplement his incon1e fron1 his n1edical practice by \vorking three afternoons a \veek as the head of Kasso\vitz's children's hospital. This \vork \vas a natural extension of his neuropathological training. He had already done some \vork on the nervous systen1 of children, and in tin1e his practical \vork made him the leading specialist in the field. Froln 1891 to 1897 he publishcd threc books dcaling in part \vith child paralysis and spastic paralysis, but these subjects preoccupied him less and less. Moreover, during his first ycars as a physician, he had planned to \vrite textbooks on neuroanaton1Y and neuropathology. Ho\vever, these ambitious plans only materialized as short articles in lexicons and handbooks. One of his articles published in a lexicon in 1889 examined aphasia, \vhich apparently impelled Freud to en1bark on a n10re c0111prehensive study of the available literaulre on the subject. In 1891, he published a monograph dealing exclusively \vith aphasia (Freud 1891 b). Aphasia denotes impairn1ent of the po\ver to use or comprehcnd words. There are different kinds of aphasia classified according to \vhich functions in the patient have been impaired, the ability to repeat \vhat is heard, to talk, to \vrite, and or to forn1 sentences. Freud argued that these abilities could not be localized in specific cerebral centers and conducting nerve paths, as had been attcn1pted in light of Broca's discovery of the speech center (see I.B.3.a). In this connection he sharply criticized Meynert, \vho \vas one of the most prominent exponcnts of localization theory, \vhile praising the \vork of Hughlings Jackson and Charcot. Moreover, the n10nograph contained n1any psychological considerations of \vord and thing presentations, thcir mutual association, and genetic relationships in language learning. Ho\vever, these general considerations \vere first related to the psychology of neuroses in Freud's "A Project for a Scientific Psychology" fron1 1895 (Freud, 1950a). In his private practice, Frcud prin1arily treated "nerve patients" \vho \vcrc referred to hin1 by other doctors because of his reputation as a neuropathologist. Breuer probably contributed the most paticnts and on nlany occasions also helpcd Frcud out of his acute financial straits. Freud canle into contact \vith the n1ilder cases of ncrvous disorder, patients \vho sought n1cdical help on cither their o\vn initiativc or that of thcir fan1ilics but did not require hospitalization or con1n1itn1ent to psychiatric institutions. As private patients, they had to bc able to pay for treatn1ent, and conscqucntly n10st of Frcud's patients CaInc fronl the n1iddle and upper

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classes. They \vere often house\vives \vho had developed their "nervousness" out of idleness. Thcre \vere sonle hystcrical patients~ but doubtless also nlany \vith thinly disguised psychosoillatic SYlllptonls. These nlild nervous disorders had previously been neglected by researchers \vho considered thelll an expression of affectation and exaggerated anxiety or as the result of an innate neuropathological constitution. They had not been adequately classified, and until Griesinger and Charcot, their etiology \vas little kno\vn (or at any rate incorrectly perceived). Besidcs hysteria, the nlost frequent explanations for these 111ild nervous disorders \vere neurasthenia (fatigability, lack of nlotivation~ and so on), hypochondria, and epilepsy. Freud persisted in his research only bccause in the beginning of the 1890s he succeeded in classitying these disorders in two different groups: actual neuroses (neurasthenia, anxiety neurosis) and psychoneurosis (hysteria, obsessional neurosis). Only the latter group \vas susceptible to psychoanalytic treatnlent (see IV.B). Freud had previously nlade only little progress. Ho\vever, he had snldied intensively the available literature on hysteria and translated three books, nvo by Bernhcinl and one by Charcot. Freud's slo\v progress \vas undoubtedly also caused by his reluctance to abandon the ncuropathological perspective. His private patients did not interest him theoretically because he could not dissect thenl in order to confirnl or reject his diagnosis. He \vas also hard put to conduct therapy \vith thenl~ and therefore he initially used traditional and accepted, but not very effective~ nlethods such as baths, n1assage, and electrotherapy supplenlcnted by rest, diets, and sea air. Ho\vever, he felt he had to do sonlcthing to n1ake his patients feel that they \"ere getting their money's \vorth. He renlarked sarcastically that he could not nlake a living by sending his paticnts to a sanatorium after one consultation. Bcginning in 1887, Freud, inspired by Bernhein1's books, began to use hypnosis. This treatnlcnt consisted of suggesting a restoration to health, in other \vords, ordering patients under hypnosis to surrender their difficult or unreasonable synlptoms, whether they were obsessions, anxiety~ or inlaginary pain. The patients \vere often cured \vhcn they canle out of hypnosis. They follo\ved the doctor's orders, but rcmembercd nothing of having received thenl. This finding was very significant. It implied an undcrstanding that neuroses had a psychic dimension alongside the organic dimension. Freud had now embraced psychothcrapy and subsequently enlployed a dualistic division of man into a psychic and an organic entity. As a therapcutic technique, however, hypnosis never satisficd him. Some of his patients \vere

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immune to hypnosis, others suffered a relapse shortly after treatment. Bernheim had claimed that in principle everyone could be hypnotized, not only potentially hysterical patients. Freud therefore suspected that he \vas a poor hypnotist. In the sumn1er of 1889, he traveled to N aney to study \vith Bernheim. At first he \vas very impressed \vith Bernheim's methods, but became disappointed when even Bernheim was unable to deal with a particularly difficult patient Freud had brought \vith him from Vienna. We cannot be sure if this disappointment \vas the reason that Freud gradually renounced suggestion technique. He later remarked that he had been uncomfortable with the psychic violence of Bernheim's suggestion technique. A third reason might have been that under hypnosis, patients related strange events they othenvise never mentioned. At any rate, Freud, after a seven-year delay, became once again interested in Breuer's catharsis method. This method seemed to a great degree to have a soothing effect on the nervous state of the patient \vhen he \vas given the opportunity to speak freely under hypnosis. This \vould hardly have surprised a Catholic confessor, though the patient could not remember what he had said after hypnosis. The strongest effect \vas attained \vhen the patient's revelations could be directed to\vard the origins of the symptoms. When did the anxiety or paralysis appear for the first time? Often a traumatic memory caused the neurotic symptoms. Charcot and others had already uncovered traumas, such as train accidents, falls from scaffolds, and so on in the etiology of hysteria, but Freud and Breuer discovered that traumas could also be of a more specifically psychic nature, such as disappointments, indignities, and so on. Freud and Breuer no\v embarked on a more active cooperation in order to formulate a concept of the therapy and etiology of hysteria and to clarify the conflict benveen Charcot and Bernheim. That this conflict preoccupied Freud is evident fron1 the fore\vord to his translation of Berlli~eim's book on the therapeutic effects of suggestion (Freud 1888-1889). Charcot and Breuer generally agreed in their original conception of hysteria as a series of fluctuating states of consciousness, some of \vhich \vere similar to hypnotic states. To\vard the end of the 1880s, Charcot's student Janet classified these sympton1s as a splitting of consciousness. A controversy later arose as to whether it was Breuer or Janet \vho had first introduced this concept. Breuer treated Anna O. in 1880 to 1882 but the case history \vas first published in 1895. In spite of this controversy, it is clear that the concept of splitting was not unkno\vn in contemporary psychological and literary \vorks. In psychiatry, E. E. Azam had described "multiple personalities"

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\vhere the same person could assume different identities interchangeably. We have already mentioned the theme of the double in literature. In Stevenson's novel from 1886, Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) the theme is spelled out in no uncertain terms: the main protagonist changes from an intellectual scientist by day to a bestial murderer at night-not unlike Anna O. It is noteworthy that Janet and Breuer disagreed about the evaluation of secondary consciousness. Janet connected the splitting of the mind with degeneration, regarding it as the first step to\vard the total dissolution and disassociation of the human intellect. Breuer opposed this view, and in keeping \vith the romantic subject concept believed that the split part of the personality had almost an independent intelligence not necessarily inferior to the normal intelligence: In the state of secondary consciousness, Anna O. spoke fluent English, French, and Italian; another hysterical patient became an excellent chess player. Breuer and Freud were inclined to disnliss degeneration as an explanation for the etiology- of hysteria. As a fanlily physician, Breuer knew the relationships of his patients well, and found no reason to assunle that heredity played a role in hysteria. On the other hand, Charcot's theory of traunla seemed to accord \vith his findings on Anna O. Charcot believed that the trauma attained a pathogenic effect by releasing an autosuggestion toward which the hysterical patient was especially disposed. During autosuggestion, groups of motor perceptions are isolated, resulting in paralysis or loss of feeling in the affected parts of the body. Instead of biologically conditioned autohypnosis, Breuer worked \vith a socially conditioned hypnoid state, in other \vords, a sleeping state. Breuer had apparently been inspired by Fechner's \vave theory (see I.B.4.a), \vhich held that the tensional \vave of the nervous system culminated in one of the cerebral systems in the waking state and in another in the sleeping state. The latter process could generate dreams, which, according to Fechner, appeared on another scene. Breuer no\v believed that the pathological split in hysteria separated the two scenes from one another. A contributing factor to Anna O.'s illness \vas her daydreaming or "private theater" as she called it. While fantasizing (apparently because of boredom), she artificially induced a secondary conscious state similar to the hypnotized state. If she, while in this state, was suddenly confronted \vith an unexpected event, she was unable to respond to it normally. The experience \vas instead retained as memory in the dream system and, like a dream, was forgotten \vhen the hypnoid state \vas replaced by the normal conscious state. Freud and Breuer compared the traumatic memory in the dreanl systenl

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to a foreign body causing symptoms of hysteria. The experience itself \vas associated \vith strong affects, \vhich had been incompletely or incorrectly abreacted. The therapy therefore aimed to obtain a correct abreaction resulting in the removal of the disruptive foreign body. The idea behind Breuer's catharsis method \vas to encourage the patient to recount the traumatic events in a way that made them the object of associative work, so as to reintegrate them into normal consciousness. For example, Anna O.'s hysterical paralysis of the arm was traced back to the time when she nursed her sick father. In a half-\vaking state, she imagined seeing a snake with a hideous death's head, but could not move her arm; subsequently one of her hysterical symptoms \vas paralysis of the arm. In other cases \vhere hysterical attacks expressed themselves in the form of violent contortions of the body (((attitudes passionellesJ~ J they could be analyzed as abortive and belated attempts to react to the trauma. Generally, Freud and Breuer believed that hysterical patients suffered from "reminiscences" (Freud [and Breuer] 1893a, p. 7). Their interpretational method could very \vell have been inspired by Danvin's theory of the expression of affect in animals and humans (see I.B.3.b). The affect, consisting of an accumulation of energy in the nervous system, traveled either through the first available channel (such as grimaces) or set off a specific reaction (as \vhen animals expose their teeth in anger before attacking). When modern manand thus the hysterical patient-used an incomprehensible expression of affect, the problem became one of trying to uncover the situation (in the past history of the species or the individual) \vhere it first appeared. We can sunmlarize the first phase in the inception of psychoanalysis by underscoring the obvious topographical and economic aspect of Freud's (and, up to this point, Breuer's) theory. The topographical, or spatial, aspect is linked to the theory of a split personality, consisting of a normal consciousncss and a dreanling consciousness. These nvo systenls or "scencs" are nlade up of scparate perceptions and associations as if they each had thcir o\vn intelligence. NOrIllally, they are active in thc \vaking statc and sleeping state rcspectively, but the "dreanl state" of hysterical patients is likely to last for longer periods and control behavior. The econoillic aspect refers to the fact that the energy in the systenls is regarded quantitatively. The energy is distributed according to a sensorinlotor reflex schenlc. When a traUll1a generates a sudden (sensory) energy increase, pro blcnls develop if the energy cannot be abreacted (by a nlotor reaction). During hysteria, either reaction has been retained (retention hysteria) or there has bcen an inexpedient abreaction in the hysterical attack. This rather

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sinlple topographical-econonlic reflex nlodel fOrlned the basis of Freud's and Breuer's understanding \vhen they, in Decelnber 1892, \vrote their prclinlinary notes on the psychic nlechanisln of hysterical phenomena (Freud [and Breuer] 1893a). According to Freud, there \vas considerable conflict benveen the nvo colleagues in \vriting it and it \vas indeed during this tilne that the partnership of the nvo nlen acnlally deteriorated, even though they preserved a public facade of agreenlent for several nlore years. Their disagreenlent is conlnlonly believed to be grounded in nvo issues: first, Freud's insistence on the sexual nature of traunla, and second, his rejection of Breuer's hypnoid theory in favor of his o\vn theory of defense (AblJ1chr) as the explanation for the psychic split. He developed these nvo aspects of his theory \vithout Brcuer's help in the years that followed. While the partnership \vith Breuer grc\v increasingly straincd, Freud gradually developed a close relationship \vith the Berlin physician Wilhelm Fliess, \VhOnl he had nlet through Breuer in 1887. Fliess (1858-1928) \vas a nose and throat specialist, but \vas also \vell read on nlost issues of narural science. He is kno\vn for an astrological periodicity theory claiming that fate \vas deternlined by the interference benvecn the fenlale cycle (the nlenstrual period) of nventy-eight days and a nlale cycle of nventy-three days. He perceived these nvo periods as sexual biological forces, virtually controlling hunlan developnlent (biological nlaruration processes, psychic fearures, and gender) fronl their inception and also deternlining \vhen a person \vould die. Furthernlore, he had a theory that attenlpted to show a profound relationship benveen femalc sexual organs and the nose, and benveen nose bleeds and menstruation. He supported Freud's interest in sexuality, but \vas less enthused with Freud's inclination to abandon biology and neurophysiology in favor of psychology. For his part, Freud admired Fliess as a genius, and despite Fliess's age considered hinl a father figure and in general lavished attention on hinl. Only Freud's half of the extensive correspondence benveen the nvo, which lasted fronl 1887 to 1902, has been preserved, but his lcttcrs contain extrenlely dctailcd information on his theoretical developnlent during this period. This correspondence \vas first published in 1950 (Freud 1950a), and even thcn only in extracts. A completc version appcared in 1985. It sho\vs that Inost of the conceprual building blocks of psychoanalysis had been thought out by 1897, as will beconle apparent in the following sections.

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2. SECOND PHASE: THE THEORY OF DEFENSE AND THE PSYCHIC PRIMARY AND SECONDARY PROCESSES (1892-1895) Freud found Breuer's hypnoid theory unsatisfactory for several reasons. The idea of therapy \vas that the hypnoid state, during \vhich the patient had been caught unavvares by the trauma for the first time, should be artificially reestablished through hypnosis, thereby disclosing the trauma. Ho\vever, even in those cases \vhere Freud successfully used this procedure to enable the patient to reveal traumatic events, it did not necessarily have a therapeutic effect. If the patient revealed the trauma while under hypnosis, he often refused to accept it in the \vaking state. From 1892 to 1896, Freud therefore stopped using hypnosis and instead introduced a special technique of pressure and concentration. Freud \vould press the patient lightly on the forehead and ask him to tell him what came to mind at this moment. This thought was seldom directly related to the trauma, but by systematically tracing ne\v thoughts and associations generated by the first thought, Freud usually succeeded in uncovering the traumatic experience. Use of this technique in analysis usually resulted in a permanent cure. Through his analytic \vork, Freud realized that a trauma al\vays consisted of an experience that \vas embarrassing or intolerable to the patient. Even after the trauma had been revealed, the patient \vould be extremely reluctant to think or talk about it. Freud concluded that the primary cause of the split \vas not due to the hypnoid state of the patient before the traumatic experience, but to the traumatic experience itself. Only embarrassing experiences caused a split, releasing a conscious attempt to forget \vhat had happened. This attempt, which Freud called defense and sometimes repression, \vas thus the direct cause of the split. Freud's conclusion replaced Breuer's etiological model: hypnoid stateltrauma/split, \vith his o\vn: trauma/defense/split. After having been hinted at in the preliminary notes from 1892, the ne\v theory \vas officially advanced in the short article ''The Neuro-Psychoses of Defence" fron1 1894 (Freud 1894). In this article, Freud described defense in economic terms as a mechanism \vherebv affect became separated fron1 idea. He based his theory on the idea that something could be forgotten by shifting attention to something else. An en1barrassing experience could be forgotten by attaching the affect to something else. The affect then lost its qualitative content, but continued to exist as a purely

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quantitative "tensional space," \vhich consequently had to be abreacted in one \vay or another. During hysteria the affect \vas transferred to the body, causing cranlps, paralysis, and pain. Compulsive ideas indicated that the affect had remained in the psychic area, \vhere it becaITIe attached to relatively innocent ideas that \vere then transformed into "idees fixes.)) In April 1895, Freud and Breuer finished editing Studies on Hysteria (Freud [and Breuer] 1895d). Their book \vas important because it contained theory and clinical examples, but was also a book full of ambiguities concealing the conflict benveen Freud's theory of defense and Breuer's hypnoid theory. In their introduction, the authors reiterated their preliminary notes from 1892. Breuer \vrote the case history of Anna O. and a theoretical chapter based on hypnoid theory. Freud contributed four case histories and a therapeutic chapter based on the theory of defense. Freud's o\vn case histories \vere also ambiguous: the material for them had been collected over a number of years in \vhich Freud had used several different techniques (suggestion, hypnosis, catharsis, pressure and concentration, sudden ideas, and free associations). We \vill revie\v Freud's case history of Miss Lucy R. as a clear eXalTIple of the theory of defense. Lucy \vas a 3D-year-old Englishwonlan \vho \vorked as a governess in Vienna. She fell in love \vith the children's father \vho \vas the head of a factory. She discovered that her infatuation \vas not reciprocated \vhen he threatened to disnliss her for letting a lady visitor kiss his children on the nl0uth, \vhich he had strictly forbidden. Later, the father reprimaIlded another guest who wanted to kiss the children after dinner while the men \vere smoking cigars. The last episode Lucy related \vas her receiving a letter from her mother asking her to rerurn hOlTIe. She was interrupted by the children who tried to prevent her from reading the letter and \vho wanted to keep her in the £'lnlily. Inlmediately afterwards she smelled a dessert that had burned. After this episode she suffered from olfactory hallucinations and depression. Lucy related these symptonls to Freud at the start of treatment, and using his pressure technique, Freud traced the associative wandering of the affect back to its origin: the snlell of the burnt dessert was linked to the snlell of cigar smoke, and the father's reprimand of the guest was linked to his reprinland of Lucy. The illness was caused by a defense against unrequited love and the affect was displaced along this chain of associations until it manifested itself as an incurable and inexplicable olfactory hallucination. Freud's analysis had t\vo results: it removed the symptoms and cured the illness, and it taught Lucy not to harbor false expectations. As far as Lucy's expectations \vere concerned,

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Freud could not abolish the social barrier benveen governess and master, but he could, as he hin1sclf clain1ed, tranSfOrIll hysterical misery into comn10n unhappiness. By n1erely ackno\vlcdging unhappiness, one \vas already better prepared to fight it. Freud's next step \vas to relate the etiological theory of defense to a general psychological theory. He took this step in September to October of 1895, \vhen he wrote a n1anuscript of aln10st one hundred pages entitled A Project for a Scientific Psychology (Freud 1950a). He sent the n1anuscript to Fliess, and it \vas therefore first published with the other letters and n1anuscripts of their correspondence in 1950. Freud \vas already a\vare of several neurophysiological outlines of psychological theories, including those of Jackson, Meynert, Exner, and, n10st recently, Breuer in his theoretical section in the srudies on hysteria. It \vas therefore only natural to take the step from a purely psychological presentation in clinical \vork to a neurophysiological presentation of a general theory. It \vas not a big step because Freud, in the ITIodel he constructed, was generally n10re loyal to his clinical findings than to his previous \vork in dissection and microscopy. This neurophysiological n10del entailed changes in terminology: idea becan1e neuron (nerve cell), affect becan1e quantity (nerve energy), and association becan1e facilitation (breaking do\vn the contact barriers benveen nvo nerve cells). In A Project for a Scientific Psychology) Freud elaborated on his previous \vork \vith hysteria by adding a dynan1ic and genetic aspect. The reflex n10del he had forn1erly used had only encon1passed the relationship benveen the external sense in1 pression (especially the trauma) and the motor reaction (especially the abreaction). Freud no\v added stin1ulations of drives or needs originating inside the body, \vhich he had earlier only included in connection \vith the expl0ration of actual neurosis. Associationist psychology thus received a dynan1ic aspect. Moreover, Freud attempted to describe the genetic structure of psychic functions, that is, the helpless baby's learning to satisfy his needs \vithout outside help. En10tional processes initially dominated this course of developillent. The so-called primary processes represented an unbridled tendency to take over pleasurable memories and avoid unpleasurable ones (\vishful attraction and reflexive defense). Secondary processes \vere biologically taught. These processes \vere norn1al reality-oriented processes that could tolerate genuine unpleasure and force a postponen1ent of pleasure. We recognize here the main foundations of the typical psychological n10del that had existed since Hobbes. For the n10n1ent, \ve are interested in ho\v Freud succeeded in placing

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the etiology of hysteria in this nlodcl. Initially, he renlarked that pathological defense in hysteria \vas sinlilar to prinlary reflexive defense: the hysterical person \vas just as reluctant to think of the traunlatic experience as the baby \vas to think of unpleasant things that had once caused pain. A nlere hint of this experience \vas enough to produce those grinlaces and expressions of atTect associated \vith the original traunla. Unlike the hysterical person, ho\vever, the baby could gradually learn to control his feelings. He could learn to think of unpleasant things in order to avoid thenl better in hlnlre. The hysterical person continued to produce inconlprehensible SYlllptonls \vithout being able to deal \vith thenl alone. Frcud's task \vas to find out \vhy a hysterical person used a prinlitive and inexpedient defense against the traunlatic nlcnlory, and \vhy he \vas unable to rurn it into a nOfillal defense. We can dcnl0nstrate this solution by taking another clinical exanlple. Enlnla \vas a young girl \vho sutfered fronl a phobia: she was afraid to go into stores alone. She traced this hysterical conlpulsion back to an experience she had \vhen she \vas nvelve, during puberty. She had entered a store and seen nvo clerks talking and laughing together. Suddenly she had panicked and nln out of the store. She inlagined that they had laughed at her clothes and felt that one of the nlen had attracted her sexually. Freud believed that her reaction \vas irrational. Even if the clerks had laughed at her clothes, that \vas no reason to stop going to stores. His analysis uncovered another episode Enmla had experienced at the age of eight. She had nvice gone into a general store to buy candy. The first tinle the o\vner had grinned at her and put his hand on her crotch through her clothes. In spite of this incident, she \vent back to the store one nlore tinle. The experience did not produce a defense because Enlnla did not conlprehend its sexual overtones. The later episode resulted in an associative identification of the nvo experiences: the two stores, the grinning store owner and the laughing clerks, the clothes that played a part in both incidents and the sexual overtones of the nvo episodes. The nlenlory of the store owner had suddenly appeared and \vas no\v associated \vith a violent affect against \vhich Emma could not dcfend herself. The affect \vas therefore separated from the original idea and transferred to the idea of the clothcs. The clothes symbolized the episode at the general store and led to the false idea that it \vas her clothes the clerks \vere laughing at. Ho\vever, this prilllitive defense had been effective, because Enlma had totally forgotten the episode at the general store until Freud uncovercd it. For Freud, the significance of this cxaillple was the uincubation period"

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benveen the traunlatic experience and the outbreak of the illness. The experience attained its traunlatic character a long tinle after the event and this relationship explained the usc of the prinlitive and pathological defense. Had Enlnla been a\vare of the sexual nature of the store o\vner's advances, she could have then run out of the store or at least refrained from going back a second tinle, but these reactions did her no good aftenvard. Whatever she did, she could not change the past, but could only defend herself against it by forgetting or repressing it and displacing the affect to the deferred synlptonlatic acts: running out of the store and subsequently avoiding stores altogether. This deferral (N achtriiglichkeit) bet\veen the traunla and the defense (or bet\veen the actual experience and its assunling a traunlatic character) \vas the real cause for the release ofa pathological defense instead of a normal one. The deferral \vas thus indisputably necessary for the developnlent of hysteria. Freud explained this deferred action by the late appearance of puberty in hunlan developnlent, \vhich illlplied that only sexual experiences could beconle hysterical traumas. In conclusion, Freud replaced Breuer's hypnoid theory \vith his o\vn theory of pathological defense in the second phase of development as an explanation of the etiology of hysteria, and incorporated the concept of defense into general psychological theory. In doing so he added a dynamic and genetic aspect to the topographical-economic reflex model from the first phase of inception. The dynamic aspect entailed relating defense to those thought processes through \vhich the individual normally satisfied his needs. The genetic aspect sho\ved how typical gratification and defense processes developed from totally primitive reflexes in a ne\vborn baby to reality-oriented thinking and calculation in an adult. As far as psychopath010gy was concerned, this extension of theory occurred to some degree at the expense of the topographical aspect. The ronlantic model of two separate intelligences (like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) \vas replaced by a more rationalistic model of t\vo genetic stages of development. Like\vise, pathological processes \vere not placed in a separate system any more, but \vere defined as a return to a more prinlitive psychic functional mode. Pathological defense meant that all affects \vere removed from embarrassing ideas. These ideas did not comprise any coherent system, but occurred as scattered and segregated gaps in a superior ego stnlCture.

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3. TIlIRD PHASE: TIlE UNCONSCIOUS AND TIlE PRECONSCIOUS (1895-1896) In the third phase of the inception of psychoanalysis, Freud succeeded in reincorporating the topographical aspect \vhile retaining the other aspects. The result \vas a rough sketch of a genetic-functional reflex model of the psychic apparatus \vhich came to comprise the core of psychoanalytical theory, so-called meta psychology . After sending A P1'oject for a Scientific Psychology (Freud 1950a) to Fliess in October 1895, Freud pursued his efforts at making the nl0del function. His letters to Fliess reveal that his thoughts on the project fluctuated benveen optimism and pessimism. Ho\vever, his continued considerations of sexual development, especially the relationship between "premature" sexual experiences in childhood and delayed defense in puberty, led to ne\v discoveries. According to Freud, the etiology of hysteria consisted of seAlIal child abuse-the so-called seduction theory. Opposed to this \vas another neurosis previously overshado\ved by hysteria-obsessional neurosis. On 15 October, Freud \vrote to Fliess that obsessional neurosis was the result of "presexual seAlIal pleasure." Freud grappled with this assumption in many letters. In theory there \vas no defense against pleasurable memories, yet the experience had been repressed. Freud tackled this problem in "Manuscript K" from December 1895 (Freud 1950a and Freud 1985b), in which he formulated a ne\v hypothesis: the original pleasure associated \vith the experience must have been transfornled into unpleasure. A transformation of affect, as it was later called, must have occurred. Freud suggested several reasons for this transformation, the most crucial being that children apparently felt pleasure in things that caused unpleasure in adults, for example, feces and a number of sexual activities. It was not difficult to imagine how the "presexual sexual pleasure" of masturbation could turn into unpleasure as a result of adult disapproval, and Freud's investigations consequently focused on this problem in the period that follo\ved. It can be said that transformation of affect is the basic principle behind every upbringing; \vhat \vas new in Freud \vas only that he focused on the sexual affects. Freud also attempted to illul11inate the difference between the etiology of hysteria and obsessional neurosis by studying the appearance of traUIl1a

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in child developnlent. Without being too precise, he assunled that the hysterical traunla originated in the period frol11 zero to four years, \vhile obsessional neurosis originated in the period fronl four to eight years. He abandoned this tinle schel11e later, but for the time supported the idea that the repetition of the traunla during illness \vas a repetition of typical thought processes a child conlnlanded at the tinle the traumatic experience took place. The symptonls of obsessional neurosis \vere nlore complex than synlptonls of hysteria, so the traunla could be thought to originate at a later period when the child's nlental activity \vas nlore developed. Another pervasive characteristic of these symptonls \vas that they \vere always associated with innocuous nlenlories originating at the same time as the traunla. For example, Enlnla (see II.B.2) avoided stores because she had experienced the traunla in a store. On the \vhole, a picrure enlerged of nlenl0ry traces fronl the sanle period topographically placed alongside each other in the psyche. Freud expressed this theory in his fanl0us letter to Fliess fronl 6 Decenlber 1896: As you know, I anl working on the assunlption that our psychical nlcchanism has conle into being by a proccss of stratification: the material prcscnt in the fornl ofnlenl0ry-traces being subjccted from time to tinle to a re-a17angement in accordance with fresh circunlstances-to a re-transcriptio1l. Thus what is csscntially new about my theory is the thcsis that memory is prescnt not oncc but several tinles over, that it is laid down in various species of indications. . . . I should like to enlphasizc the fact that the successivc registrations rcpresent the psychical achicvenlcnt of successivc cpochs of life. (Freud 1950a, pp. 233-35).

Freud thus believed that the psychic apparanls \vas composed of separate nlenl0ry systenls \vhose spatial relationship corresponded to their temporal deposits, sinlilar to the \vay archeological findings and geological deposits \vere older the deeper one dug. Freud did not deternline ho\v many systenls existed, but in tinle only nvo genuine nlemory systenls renlained: the unconscious and the preconscious. The unconscious \vas the older of the nvo systcnls. It contained the so-called thing presentations, that is, the inlnlediate sense inlpression of things or objects in the \vorld. Their murual organization \vas very loose: all associations fulfilling the denland for similarity and contiguity in tinle and space \vere possible. The acrual processes of the unconscious \vere identical \vith the aforenlentioned prinlary processes. The ternl the u1lconscious \vas used because presentation could not beconle conscious by thenlsclves but could only enter consciousness by

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transferring their illlpuises to thc ovcrlying systcnl callcd the preconscious. This SystClTI contained so-callcd \vord prcscntations enabling thought by logical rules and the creation of the n1ain conccpts for thc classification of perceived things. These thought proccsses could, if nccessary, inlpede impulses and find nc\v and safer \vays to the givcn goal and corresponded to the aforen1entioned sccondal)' proccsses. Ideas in the preconscious \vere adjacent to consciousness and could beconlc conscious every tinle they \verc cathected by an in1pulse. Jackson and Meynert held similar vie\vs. During development the superior reflex centers \vere created (Jackson) as \vell as the secondary ego (Meynert) \vhich impeded and directed the lower reflexes. During illness the superior main reflex centers \vere suspended and the more primitive and older reflexes could once again function unimpeded. The originality of Freud's theory \vas his belief that the unconscious could influence thought and behavior \vithout suspending the preconscious (the official ego). This process \vas similar to neurosis, and Freud's successful description of this process was due to the fact that his concept of defense could finally be incorporated in the general topographical model of the unconscious and preconscious. There \vere actually at least three kinds of defense: (I) The unconscious was dominated by a primitive, reflexive defense which immediately erased the unpleasurable ideas of the cathexis they had experienced; (2) the preconscious \vas dominated by a more highly developed defense \vhich could anticipate a future unpleasure and a present unpleasure and in doing so guarantee a more expedient mode of function for the individual; (3) pathological defense or repression occurred when certain impulses from the unconscious \vere denied access to the preconscious. In obsessional neurosis, which of course formed the basis of these theoretical advances, unconscious memory \vas associated \vith pleasure. For example, a small child derived great pleasure from masturbation. However, a transformation affect then occurred as a result of upbringing, and during puberty the memory assumed a dangerous and traumatic character. Even the \vords and concepts in the preconscious that \vere supposed to express the traumatic memory and to adapt it were no\v so unpleasurable that they could not be cathected. This prevented the pleasurable memory of masturbation in the unconscious from entering consciousness by a direct passage through the preconscious. Instead, its cathexis \vas displaced to the surrounding ideas in the unconscious that had a peripheral relationship \vith the traun1a (in Emma's case from sexuality to clothes and stores) and these ideas \vere mixed with the preconscious processes as inexplicable neurotic symptoms.

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Thus, pathological defense \vas a prinlitive reflexive defense (a primary process) being initiated in the preconscious. It \vas still a question of some, preconscious, ideas' being drained of cathexis, but it was no\v also a question of other, unconscious, ideas' being prevented from releasing their functions normally. The unconscious \vas henceforth not merely a nunlber of scattered and segregated ideas in the psyche (as in the second phase of inception); it was an independent psychic system partly representing an early stage in individual development, and partly controlling its own memories and thought processes. With this model, Freud combined the topographical-economic aspects of the first phase of inception \vith the geneticdynamic aspects of the second phase. He thus achieved his goal: to construct a general psychological model that applied to normal as \vell as pathological phenomena.

4. FOURTIl PHASE: TIlE OEDIPUS COMPLEX AND INFANTILE SEXUALITY (1896-1897) The broad psychological model \vas created by generalizing certain features of obsessional neurosis: the "presexual sexual pleasure" and the transformation of affect. It \vas less applicable to hysteria in \vhich no original sexual pleasure was at stake, but only the un pleasure caused by the traumatic experience. Throughout the fourth phase of inception Freud continued to study hysteria and made crucial revisions of his earlier vie\vs. These revisions led to the formulation of the last and most original part of psychoanalytic theory: the Oedipus complex, infantile sexuality, and the formulation of a general theory of neurosis. The development of Freud's insights took nvo different directions that were first brought together in September 1897. On the one hand he continued his work in seduction theory, supplemented by analyses of typical hysterical fantasies. On the other hand he started to analyze himscIf for a mild hysterical phobia, \vhich resulted in a general insight into a child's experience of his relationship \vith his parents. Freud's letters to Fliess reveal that as late as the spring of 1897 Freud nlaintained his belief in seduction theory as the etiology of hysteria. He constantly encountered cases directly or indirectly pointing to paternal sexual abuse of children. Sonle patients \vith hysterical synlptoms told of their fathers' taking thenl to bed up until puberty and forcing thenl to provide sonle kind of sexual satisfaction. When Freud found the same

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synlptolllS in other patients, he concluded that they had been subjected to the sanle type of experiences and had repressed theln. A nUlllber of hysterical patients \vho could not reilleillber their o\vn traunlas had nevertheless vivid f.1ntasies of seduction scenes in general. Freud concluded that these fantasies \vere psychic creations inserted benveen the traunlatic nlenlory and consciousness as a defense. The interpretation of these fantasies Inight uncover the traunla. Without this interpretation, patients often believed that their fantasies \vere the expression of actual events. Superstition could thus be denlonstrated to stenl fronl neurotic fantasies. In the literature frolll the Middle Ages on \vitches possessed by the devil, Freud believed he could see typical cases of hysterical \VOnlen. Often the \\!itches thelnselves adnlitted to having been raped by thc devil, even though the real reason for their attacks of hysteria \vas not possession by the devil, but repressed nlemories of sexual abuse in childhood. On the \vhole, Frcud saw no contradiction benveen seduction theory and hysterical fantasies. Even so, he did adnlit to·Fliess that he had discovered hysterical synlptolllS in his younger brother and several of his sisters, \vhich necessarily had to make hinl suspect his father of indecency. Freud began his self-analysis in the sunlnler of 1897. He acknowledged that he had sonle neurotic psychic problenls including fear of train travel and he thought that self-analysis \vould help hinl. Freud \vas of course a\vare that self-analysis \vas nlore difficult than analysis of his patients. He therefore prepared hinlsclf \vith all his analytic concepts of repression, seduction, and resistance \vithout attelnpting to Inake hinlsclf better than his patients. The barrier benveen analyst and patient that had characterized classical "objective" psychiatry \vas replaced by another barrier of principle in the analyst hiInself: the barrier bet\veen his o\vn preconscious and unconscious. We regard it as important that Freud reilloved the first barrier by attenlpting to "understand" his patients, but \ve find it even more important that he ackIlo\vlcdged the existence of the other barrier and thereby the limitation imposed by the unconscious on any kno\vledge, be it self-knowledge or kno\vledge of others. Freud hoped \vith his self-analysis finally to grasp the nlystery of the unconscious. He had never succeeded in conducting such a thorough analysis of his patients; there had ahvays been loose ends or lacked decisive memories, but Freud apparently believed he \vould succeed \vith hinlsclf as the patient. One must inlagine that, guided by his hypotheses, he searched for genuine traunlatic experiences behind his fantasies and synlptoms, some kind of indecency on the part of his father or others. An

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inlportal1t tool in his work \vas drealll analysis. Since the summer of 1895, Freud had analyzed his o\vn dreanls, \vhich could \vithout difficulty be equated with fantasies. After his father's death in 1896, ITIOSt of Freud's dreanls \vere about hinl. Dreanl analysis uncovered nlany childhood memories but none that could definitely be called traumatic. As in other dreams, they \vere wish fulfillnlents. A \vish that his father \vere \vrong and Freud right on a specific issue could generate a drealTI that clearly showed that Freud was right despite the fact that the opposite nlight have been the case in reality. Consequently, it was not possible to trace actual events from dreams. There \vas still a nlissing link of interpretation, but Freud had gradually conle to suspect that this link might not be sexual abuse in childhood after all. On 21 Septenlber 1897, Freud \vrote to Fliess that he no longer believed in his theory of hysteria. It \vas impossible for so many children to have been sexually abused in childhood. He had only analyzed the fantasies of his hysterical patients. Ho\vever, he did not kno\v \vhat caused these fantasies. Out of the ruins of the seduction theory soon elllerged a general theory of neurosis, \vhich held that neurosis was not caused by genuine repressed traumatic nlenl0ries, but by unconscious \vish fantasies. On 15 October 1897, Freud infornled Fliess that he could trace his o\vn \vishes back to a love for his nlother and jealousy toward his father. This insight was the nucleus of the realization of the Oedipus complex as the fundamental structure of the unconscious. Although his ideas had not yet fallen into place, Freud started \vorking on the assumption that oedipal fantasy was nourished by infantile sexuality. He had already introduced "presexual sexual pleasure" in the form of infantile masturbation in connection \vith the etiology of obsessional neurosis, and he could no\v like\vise conclude that hysterical patients had also nlasturbated, but had defended themselves against this l11emory by the creation of a seduction fantasy. On 14 November 1897, he sent Fliess the first real outline of the theory of infantile sexuality in \vhich he nlaintained that small children have nlany of the sanle abilities for sexual activity as adults. Ho\vever, sexuality is not so narro\vly localized, but instead associated \vith zones around the nlouth and anus, perhaps even the entire surface of the body. In light of the heated debate on this issue in recent years, it should be elllphasized that there is no antagonistic relationship be(\veen seduction theory and the Oedipus conlplex. Seductions and other traunlatic experiences can be included in the series of factors deternlining Oedipal \vish fantasies and anxieties. Thus, Freud often referred to seduction in his

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\vritings after 1897, not least in the inlportant case histories \vhich \ve \vill eXatlline in part 4. The ne\v developnlent in his thinking \vas Increly that he did not in all cases refer sexual desires and neurotic and psychotic defense l11echanisnls to sexual abuse of children. Moreover, he used the conccpt "seduction" to cover everything fronl crinlinal child abuse to totally innocent scxual gal11cs. Frcud enlployed the later ternl attaclJ111cnt, or anaclisis) to nlean that all aspects of child care seel11ed sexual to the child: even having baby po\vder put on his bottonl produced sexual pleasure and a desire for repetition. It nlust also be stressed that Freud ncver excused sexual abuse of children, even \vhile pointing out that all children had thcir o\vn sexuality. During crinlinal abuse the adult only thinks of his o\vn perverted desire and never considers the child, above all ignoring the child's protcsts. Freud had started his self-analysis in order to uncover his unconscious traunlas and to rid hinlself of his neurotic synlptolllS. Instead, he discovered the Oedipus conlplex as an unconscious stnlCnlre of wish fantasies that continued to be. active. This stnlCnlre could never be entirely eliminated and never fully ackno\vledged. It \vas expressed through continued ne\v fantasies, synlptonls, and actions, and thus constantly demanded ne\v analyses. As far as is kno\vn, Freud analyzed hinlself throughout his life. He ackno\vledged that his infantile enl0tional ties to his parents often affected his current enlotional ties. It \vas especially apparent \vhen he transferred his father tie to his teachers and friends: initially, his adnliration for thel11 kne\v no bounds, but later he regarded thenl as dangerous rivals and took advantage of every given opportunity to oppose their vic\vs. His relationship \vith Fliess \vas characterized by such a father identification and did lead to estrangement. Freud's self-analysis probably helped to reveal that he had idealized and overrated Fliess, and nlade it possible for hinl to disengage hinlself from their friendship. The formal occasion for their estrangenlcnt \vas \vhen Freud \vas reluctant to recognize Fliess's periodicity theory and integrate it into his psychological theory. In the sunllner of 1900, the nvo friends had a decisive quarrel, and in 1902 they stopped corresponding. In the same year, Freud took the initiative in establishing a private sUldy group. In the follo\ving decades, the psychoanalytic nlovement \vas to enlerge froln this group.

c. THE ORGANIZATION OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

In the previous section on the inception of psychoanalysis, \ve discussed Freud's personal background and his scientific development. The structure of this section does not permit such a discussion. We have therefore decided to continue our chronological presentation, enlphasizing Freud's nlost important publications, his recnlitnlent of colleagues, and the fornlation of a scientific 1110Venlent. A more in-depth exanlination of the analytic, therapeutic, and theoretical aspects of psychoanalysis can be found in the last three parts of the book.

1. THE MAKING

OF TIlE PSYCHOANALYTIC MOVEMENT (1897-1918) Freud's colleagues kne\v very little of psychoanalysis in 1897. Freud \vas a relatively \vell-k.tl0\Vn figure, but his reputation rested primarily on his neuropathological \vork. The hysteria theory had not caused a great stir, but rather evoked irritation anlong his fello\v colleagues. Freud did ho\vever enjoy their respect to the extent that he \vas reconmlended as "professor extraordinarius" at the university. The sexologist Krafft-Ebing, Meynert's successor as professor of psychiatry, \vas anlong those \vho recol1IDlended Freud. Ho\vever, it is characteristic that these t\vo prolific contributors to sexual research did not have any real contact \vith each other. Krafft- Ebing belonged to the old school. He had totally, rejected Freud's theorY. of the sexual etiology of hysteria, but he did respect Freud's scientific qualifications and \vas honorable enough not to place obstacles in the \vay of an

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acadCl11ic opponent as Meynert had done. Five years passed after the reconmlendation before Freud \vas appointed, it \vas said, partly, becausc the l11inister responsible for such appointnlents, a certain Frciherr von Hartel, ,vas opposed to Freud and his theory of sexuality (see III.B.l.b). The position of professor extraordinarius ,vas unsalaried, as \vas the position of Pril'atdozc1'lt, but the title alone \vas to help Frcud. He received l110re patients, and as a Iccnlrer canle into contact with a nunlber of his later supporters. Freud Iccnlred \vithout a l11anuscript or notcs, and his at once intinlate conversational and ironically reserved nlanncr fascinated his audience, giving it the illlpression of belonging to a snlall select group. As has been mentioned, Freud had already nlade a rough formulation of psychoanalysis in 1897, and he no,v had to \vork on the details and find the proper form for the practice and further developnlent of his theory. He chose to begin ,vith general psychological themes in order to emphasize that psychoanalysis contained a general theory of the human psyche and \vas not merely a psychopathology and a supplement to psychiatry. Three important \vorks emerged from this period. They emphasized in different respects the existence of unconscious psychic processes in all people, and consisted primarily of analyses of these unconscious processes using the same psychological model. The first \vork ,vas The Interpretation ofDrearns (Freud 1900a), ,vritten in 1897 to 1899 and published in 1899 (though dated 1900). It is still considered by many to be the magnum opus of psychoanalysis and expresses the vie,v that dreams are generated from unconscious ,vishes that enter consciousness in a distorted form by ,vay of complex association processes. Using countless interpretations of his and others' dreams, Freud showed that a kno\vledge of these processes \vas the key to interpreting dreams and uncovering unconscious ,vishes. The last chapter of the book contains a general psychological theory explaining the formation of the psyche, its strucrure consisting of systems, and the typical processes these systems perform. This chapter is acrually a slightly simplified but more lucid version of the psychological model from A Project for a Scientific Psychology from 1895 (Freud 1950a). In his next book The Psychopathology ofE veryday Life ( 1901 b), Freud examined anotller general field: the slips of the tongue, lapses in memory, and symptomatic acts usually regarded as the result of coincidence and not considered very significant. Freud argued that these phenomena could also be traced back to unconscious but active motives that indirectly and in a distorted form gained access to consciousness and the motor function. Unlike The Interpretation ofDreams) this book quickly became popular because it shed new light on

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everyday problems using accessible theoretical language. The last book in this series \vasJokes and Their Relatioll to the Unconscious (Freud 1905c), \vhich, like the t\vo previous \vorks, revealed repressions and unconscious primary processes behind jokes and puns. T\vo other pieces from this period had a more direct bearing on neurosis theory and psychopathology. The first \vas a case history, "Fragment of an Analysis of a Case of Hysteria" (Freud 1905e), \vhich supplemented the material from the studies on hysteria. This case concerned a female patient, Dora, \vho \vas treated bv Freud for a fe\v months in the fall of 1900. He \vrote do\vn her case history in 1901, but had problems getting it published. Various publishers believed that it \vould violate the medical vow of confidentiality. Nevertheless, after four years, the book \vas finally published. Its most significant finding in relation to the studies on hysteria \vas the importance of transference in analysis. Moreover, Freud made extensive use of Dora's dreams. He sho\ved the close connection bet\veen the structure of neurosis and dreams \vhile giving an example of the practical use of dream analysis in therapy. The other \vork \vas Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality) \vhich \vas also published in 1905 (Freud 1905d). In these essays, Freud collected his vie\vs on sexuality in a general theory of sexuality, placing the theory of the sexual etiology of neurosis in a larger perspective. The three essays dealt \vith (1) sexual perversions, (2) infantile sexuality, and (3) adult sexuality. The first subject \vas rather traditional. Most contemporary sexologists \vere preoccupied \vith perversions or "sexual deviations" (hon10sexuality, sadisn1, masochism, and so on). Similarly, infantile sexuality \vas not an unkno\vn quantity judging by the repeated \varnings, security measures, and surveillance methods described in pedagogical literature. The originality of Freud's theory \vas that he did not trace the essence of sexuality back to a sexual instinct directed to\vard reproduction (an instinct \vhich could manifest itself as a perversion or as infantile sexuality \vhen it \vas developed unnaturally or prematurely), but regarded infantile sexuality, \vhich had nothing to do \vith reproduction, as the basis of sexuality. According to this vie\v, infantile se},.'uality develops positively into perversions and negatively (in its repressed forn1) into neuroses. Genital sexuality directed to\vard reproduction lies bet\veen these t\vo extremes. It does not originally exist in the child but develops by a shift in sexual sensitivity from the mouth and the anal zone to the genital zone. Having quit his job at the children's hospital, Freud made his living almost exclusively fron1 his private patients. The incon1e from his publications \vas negligible and despite a handsome hourly fee for analysis, the J

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family budget \vas often shaky bccause new patients did not con1C regularly. Consequently, Freud \vas to some extent forced to givc preference to patients from the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy, \vho had thc tin1e and money for a lengthy treatment. Freud analyzed his patients in an apartment connected to the fan1ily's private quarters in Berggasse No. 19. Like other specialists, Freud had a \vaiting room, but his office had the character of a private room. During analysis, the patient lay on a couch \vhile Freud sat behind the couch, out of sight of the patient. Every patient had fifty-five minutes \vith Freud. He received about ten patients a day bet\veen 8 A.M. and 8 P.M. He studied and \vrote his books and articles in tl1e evcning and at night. Family life therefore \vas almost exclusively centered around mealtimes. In the beginning of the 1900s, Freud started to recruit supporters among students and younger doctors \vho \vanted to extend their practice to treat nervous patients. The result of Freud's efforts \vas the beginning of the psychoanalytic movement. In October 1902, Freud invited four people to attend private \veekly discussions (the so-called Wednesday club). The t\vo most \vell-kno\vn figures \vere Alfred Adler and Wilhelm Stekel, who were both physicians. This circle \vas gradually expanded to thirty members by 1910. The most prominent members joined in the follo\ving order: Paul Federn (1903), Eduard Hitschmann (1905), Otto Rank and Isidor Sadger (1906), Sandor Ferenczi (1908), and Ludwig Jekels and Hanns Sachs (1910). At these \veekly meetings, the members discussed practical and theoretical problems, such as each other's patients, ne\vly published books relevant to psychoanalysis, and ne\v theoretical advances. Otto Rank's minutes of meetings from 1906 to 1918 have no\v been published in four volumes (Nunberg and Federn 1962-75). The first endorsement of psychoanalysis outside of Vienna came from Switzerland, \vhere one of the leading training centers for psychiatry, Burgholzli, \vas located. The previous head of Burgholzli, Auguste Forel, had been one the first outside France to usc suggestion therapy, and his successor, Eugen Bleuler, is kno\vn for coining the terms schizophrenia) ambivalence) and autism. Bleuler's immediate subordinate at Burgholzli \vas Carl Gustav Jung. Jung had already bccome acquainted with Freud's theories around the turn of the century, and had incorporated certain aspects of them in his psychiatric \vork, for instance, in tests with free association. Jung contacted Freud in 1906 and after meeting in 1907 they forn1cd a fast friendship. Jung contributed to the growth of the psychoanalytic movement by bringing a number of his colleagues and assistants, and, for

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a time, his boss, Bleuler, into its ranks. Some of these men became the n10st fervid supporters of psychoanalysis in the follo\ving years. The first group of supporters included Ma.x Eitingon, Karl Abraham, and Lud\vig Bins\vanger. Later members \vere Abraham Brill (from the United States), and Ernest Jones (from England). In 1907, Jung established a Freud society in Zurich similar to Freud's Wednesday club in Vienna, and in 1908 it \vas decided to hold a meeting for all psychoanalysts and sympathizers. The meeting took place in Salzburg and has since been called the first International Psychoanalytic Congress. There \vere forty-t\vo participants from six countries, and although the "congress" had a some\vhat private character, it was a step toward the formation of an international psychoanalytic movement. It \vas decided to publish a yearbook \vith Jung as editor. However, already at this juncture the seeds for future rivalry \vere being so\vn. Abrahatn, \vho had been Jung's assistant, did not trust the S\viss group because of its ties \vith classical psychiatry. He \vas thus the first to anticipate the future rivalry benveen Freud and Jung. Abraham settled in Berlin, \vhere he established a small psychoanalytic group that included the sexologists I wan Bloch and Magnus Hirschfeld. The dissemination of psychoanalysis \vas not \vithout problems. To be sure, it quickly gained a certain amount of notoriety, but this \vas mainly due to the more sensation-hungry segment of the public, \vho gave a distorted picture of psychoanalysis. Soon an aura of sensation \vas associated \vith Freud's name, \vhom supporters and detractors alike labeled \vith misleading epithets ranging from "mystic" to "prophet of sex" and "revolutionary." Malicious campaigns \vere conducted against psychoanalysts, who \vere accused of violating pornography la\vs, getting their patients in trouble, and leading them do\vn the road to sexual depravity. Taking into account that Victorian sexual mores expressly prohibited public discussion of sexuality except to \varn against it, it is understandable that feelings ran high. Ho\vever, the personal attacks on Freud usually backfired, for no one more respected the bourgeois norms he \vas accused of violating than he. It \vas far easier for Freud to find supporters among artists and intellectuals than among physicians and scientists. In Vienna, his colleagues tried to ignore him and pretended that psychoanalysis did not exist. Although he \vas later a\varded various honors, he never felt totally accepted in his native city. However, it \vas not until Nazi occupation that psychoanalysis \vas subjected to direct abuse. After the alliance \vith S\viss psychiatry, the next advance for psychoanalysis came \vhen Freud \vas invited on a lecture tour of the United States

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\vith Jung and Ferenczi. The tour lasted fronl August to September 1909, and Freud \vas surprised at his \varm reception by psychologists and neuropathologists alike. Upon his return to Vienna, he took steps to\vard a more permanent establishment of psychoanalysis. He intended to make Zurich the international center of the movement. He did not have much faith in his supporters in Vienna. At the second psychoanalytic congress in Nuremberg in 1910, Ferenczi functioned as Freud's mouthpiece. He proposed the fornlation of an International Psychoanalytic Association \vith J ung as president (Freud did not aspire to this position because of its administrative tasks and moreover regarded J ung as \vell suited to represent the association publicly), and spoke in disparaging terms of the Vienna group. His final proposal, \vhich assumedly also had Freud's blessing, was that anyone publishing books or articles on psychoanalysis should first have thenl approved by the leadership of the association. This proposal rankled the members of the Vienna group. Many \vho had supported Freud for years felt unjustly treated. They did not \vant to \vork in Jung's shado\v or take orders from Zurich. Adler and Stekel arranged a protest meeting, and Freud just barely succeeded in avoiding a total split. The Congress ended by establishing an international association with Jung as president, andto counterbalance the influence of the association-a journal, Zentralblatt for Psychoanalyse) with Adler and Stekel as editors. The stage \vas set for the conflicts of the next four years. Freud had obviously intended to create an effective movement that could promote the broader interests of psychoanalysis. He did not foresee that many members of the movement would develop psychoanalysis in different directions in their theoretical \vork. Much has been said and \vritten about Freud's indignation to\vard these "dissenters," but it seems clear that the International Association would have been quickly reduced to a discussion group if he had tolerated them. Psychoanalysis could only survive and develop by educating new analysts. This \vork necessitated the formulation of a minimum program dealing with theory and therapy. In order to ensure continuity, the association soon demanded that ne\v analysts should be psychoanalyzed as part of their training. This practice resulted in a certain stability, but also gave the association a somewhat hierarchical structure. An analyst's position in the hierarchy \vas determined by \vhether he or she had been analyzed by Freud himself or only by someone \VhOnl Freud had already analyzed. Bearing in mind the revelation of intimate details during analysis, it is understandable that analyzing other analysts could put a new analyst in a position of influence. It \vould be difficult for an analyst

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to oppose another analyst in organizational issues if the other analyst \vere privy to his innermost thoughts and problems. The conflicts that nevertheless did break out \vithin the association \vere personal and intimate, even if they were based on \veighty theoretical disagreements. Freud concentrated on clinical \vork during the period of the formation of the International Association. At nleetings and congresses and in the internal debate he provided searching analyses of individual patients, giving other analysts a standard of reference for their o\vn work. The most famous case histories \vere \vritten during these years. After "Dora" (190Se), Freud analyzed "Little Hans" (1909b). The nlaterial for this analysis of a fiveyear-old boy's phobia as provided by Max Graf, a member of the Vienna group, who under Freud's guidance treated his son for a fear of horses. In the sanle year, Freud published an intensive analysis of the "Rat Man's" obsessional neurosis (1909d) and years later Freud attenlpted for the first tinle to give a thorough analysis of a psychosis: the case of Schreber (1911c). Freud did not treat this patient himself, basing his analysis instead on Schreber's published book, Memoirs of My Ne1 'pOttS Illness (Schreber 1903). In the field of psychoanalysis, the psychiatrists fronl Burgholzli had previously had a nl0nopoly on the study of psychoses. Freud no\v entered the discussion, motivated in part by his impression of an increasingly serious disagreenlent benveen Jung and Abrahanl. Freud's last major case history \vas based on a long and conlplicated analysis of the "Wolf Man" from 1910 to 1914, \vhich \vas first published after World War I (1918b). In the sanle period, he also \vrote a nunlber of articles on therapy, including transference, which had a nl0re direct bearing on the training of new analysts. Moreover, Freud attempted to linlit the use of psychoanalytic therapeutic methods by doctors outside the association by attacking them for discrediting psychoanalysis by randonlly employing its concepts in their \vork. Freud accused them of conducting "wild" psychoanalysis (191 Ok). The period fronl 1910 to 1914 \vas marked by internal dissensions in the psychoanalytic nlovenlent. The course of events during this period has since been the subject of significant interest. Ho\vever, \ve \vill not d\vell on these dissensions, since the fornlation of opposing schools of psychoanalysis lies outside the scope of this book. We \vill take a brief look at three dissenters fronl the lTIOVenlent: Adler, Stekcl, and Jung. Freud's estrangenlent frolll thenl \vas conlplicated by the fact that he had placed thenl in influential positions in the association. It \vas fortunate tor Freud that the three did not join forces. Alfred Adler (1870-1937) joined Freud carlyon, around the turn of 1

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the century. Freud ackno\vledged his intellccnlal gifts, but never developed a close personal relationship \vith hinl. Adler felt disregarded in light of Freud's unqualified and open favoring of] ung. There \vere also theoretical conflicts benveen the nvo Inen. Adler proclailned hilnsclf a socialist, considering it his goal to fonnulate a synthesis of Marxisnl and psychoanalysis. Colnparing hinl to later Freudian Marxists, however, it is difficult to uncover any clear traces of Marxisnl in his theories apart froln his general clnphasis of social influences in his \vork. After the Nurenlberg congress in 1910, Adler's relationship \vith Freud seriously deteriorated. It did not inlprove even after Freud let Adler be elected president of the Vienna Psychoanalytic Society and editor of ZCllt1~alblatt. Freud provoked a break in 1911 by clainling that Adler's vie\vs \vere inconlpatible \vith his nlenlbership in the society. Freud \vas especially annoyed at Adler's declining interest in sexuality and the unconscious. Adler had replaced the sexual drive \vith a theory of "the \vill to po\ver." The \vill to power developed as a conlpensation.for an original inferiority complex (caused, for exanlple, by an anatonlical abnonnality). The great nlen of society often had innate abnornlalities. In Western civilization, cOlnpensational activity \vas associated \vith the Inale, and consequently Adler regarded what he called "nlasculine protest" as the source of the \vill to po\ver. It should be noted that Adler did not, like Nietzsche, consider the \vill to po\ver as sonlething positive, but rather as an expression of neurosis. Not nlany in the Vienna group shared Adler's vie\vs, but the nlajority supported his right to express thenl. Freud's adanlant attinlde resulted in about half of the nlenlbership's leaving \vith Adler in 1911. Adler established a ne\v Society for Free Psychoanalysis, emphasizing the right to independent research. Later the name of the Adlerian approach \vas changed to "individual psychology," \vhich became quite popular, especially in the United States. Wilhelm Stekel (1868-1940) \vas Adler's inlnlediate subordinate in the Vienna society. He had supported Freud for as long as Adler, and had been the one to propose to Freud the fornlation of the Wednesday club in 1902. His most significant similarity to Adler \vas his vie\v that nlenlbers should have the right to their o\vn opinions. Ho\vever, he relnained in the society after Adler left and as a re\vard \vas pronl0ted to president. He is thought to have influenced Freud's theory of sYlnbols in dreaIns, and he had a remarkable ability to analyze unconscious sYlnptonls. In retrospect, moreover, his \vork contains the seeds of a theory of the death \vish, anticipating an aspect of Freud's theory of the death drive, just as Adler had anticipated the theory of aggressive tendencies in the death drive.

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Freud's conflict \vith Stekel \vas apparently caused by the latter's unreliabilit),. If Stekel did not have the clinical nlaterial he needed at his disposal, he invented exanlples hinlself. Psychoanalysis \vas especially vulnerable on this point, because analyses of neurotic synlptonls \vere \videly regarded in scientific circles as pure fantasy. In 1912, Freud found an opportunity to get rid of Stekel. As the chief editor of Zentralblatt) Stekel had refused to print articles by Victor Tausk, one of the young hopes of the society, and Freud therefore asked him to resign. When Stekel refused, Freud persuaded the other editors to resign and fornl a new journal, I nternationale ZeitschriJt fiir iirztliche Ps.,'Vchoallalyse. Freud's nlaneuver proved successful: Stekel's Zentralblatt soon closed, \vhile the ne\v journal, along \vith Imago) established in 1911, becanle the nlost important mouthpiece for psychoanalysis in the follo\ving years. Freud had called Adler a pygmy, apparently a sarcastic reference to his theory of the inferiority conlplex's causing the \vill to po\ver. Stekel readily adnutted to being Freud's intellectual inferior, but, using an analogy, observed that a d\varf on the back of a giant could see farther then the giant alone. Freud is said to have agreed, adding, ho\vever, that the analogy did not apply to a louse sitting on the head of an astron onlC r. Carl Gustav Jung (1876-1961) \vas in Freud's opinion the nlost talented of his students. Moreover, he had a solid position in contenlporary psychiatry, and as a non-Je\v he could safeguard psychoanalysis fronl antiSenlitic prejudices. Freud chose hinl as his successor (as Moses had chosen Joshua to lead the Je\vs to the pronlised land), and in 1910 Jung \vas officially appointed president of the International Psychoanalytic Association, \vhich \vas the nlain coordinating body for the local groups. Ho\vever, it \vas not long before insurnlountable conflicts arose benveen the nvo nlen. Jung's \vork gradually dre\v hinl a\vay fronl psychiatry in the direction of a universal cululral analysis and anthropology. He did not believe that psychoanalytic concepts could be broadly applied in the analysis of psychoses because they usually had an organic cause. In 1911, he published the first part of SY1'nbols ofTransfonnatioll) \vhich nlade it clear that he did not agree \vith Freud's vie\vs on sexuality and the Oedipus conlplex. He regarded the libido as a universal life energy, \vhile Freud the year before had for the first tinle explicitly divided drives into t\vo groups, sexual drivcs and drives of self-preservation. Instead of a universal application of the Oedipus cOll1plex, J ung sUldied l11ythology to find other basic structures applicable to clinical nlaterial. Freud responded to Jung's studies by enlbarking on a nlajor anthropological project to prove the universality of the

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Ocdipus conlplex. The result of his efforts \vas Totcn'l and Taboo (Freud 1912-1913), \vhich F rcud considcrcd onc ofhis bcst books. J ung's concept of introversion also conlpcllcd Freud to broadcn his horizon~ by incorporating the earliest stages of the ego, first in thc Schrcbcr case history (F rcud 1911 c) and later in his \vork on narcissisln (Freud 1914c). The final split bct"\veen Freud and Jung canlC in 1912. In Septclnber, Jung traveled to the United States, and there openly criticized Freud and psychoanalysis. A dranlatic nlccting bet"\veen Freud and Jung in Novenlber did not lead to a reconciliation, and in Dccenlber, at Freud's suggestion, they decided to end their personal correspondence. Ho\vever, J ung's position and influence in the association \vcre so strong that Freud and his supporters could not prevent J ung's reelection as presidcnt at the congress in Munich in Septcmber 1913. Plans \vere nlade to enlploy the same tactics as had been used against Stekel-that is, letting local societies resign from the International Psychoanalytic Association and fornl a new organization-but they \vcre not carried out. In 1914, Freud \\-'rote a vehenlently polemical article on the history of psychoanalysis (1914d), in which he underscored his role as the creator of psychoanalysis and demanded the right to deternline its content personally. Ho\vever, Jung, apparently of his o\vn free \vill, resigned as president in April 1914, before he had read the article, and created his o\vn school of "analytical psychology" together \vith the majority of the S\viss group. This school, as \ve kno\v, since developed into one of the most serious challenges to psychoanalysis and even today enjoys \videspread support. These many conflicts prompted Ernest Jones in 1912 to propose the formation of a special committee conlprised of Freud's nlost loyal followers. Jones envisioned this committee as a bulwark to defcnd Freud and his ideas from criticism. The committee had five melnbers: Jones, Sandor Ferenczi, Karl Abraham, Otto Rank, and Hanns Sachs. These five \vere given the practical task of implementing Freud's proposals in the International Psychoanalytic Association without consulting the denlocratic organs. They did fail, of course, to depose J ung at the 1913 congress, but they later encountered little resistance in carrying out proposals agrecd on beforehand, especially in the years after World War I. Abraham was already the head of the Psychoanalytic Society in Berlin, and in 1913 Fercnczi and Jones established similar societies in Budapest and London respectively (moreover, during a visit to Canada in 1911, Joncs provided the inlpetus for the formation of an American psychoanalytic association). Thesc societies renlaincd the most faithful in their support of Frcud, while thc S\viss

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society-even after Jung had left-follo\ved its o\vn course to a greater degree. The conflicts \vith Adler and J ung affected the developnlent of psychoanalysis in another \vay. Frcud realized that he had to clarify psychoanalytic theory further in order to avoid future nlisconceptions. As in the 1890s, \vhen he made his first theoretical-or nletapsychological-advances by sketching a general psychological theory, Freud \vorked on theoretical questions again froIn 1910 to 1915 . We have else\vhere called this period Freud's second nletapsychological thrust. Atnong the subjects he examined \vere the clarification of dri ve categories ( 191 Oi), the pleasure princi pIe and the reality principle (1911 b), the unconscious (1912g), and the narcissistic developmental phase of the ego (1914c). Ho\vever, the nl0st significant work of these years, \vhich conlpiled these concepts, \vere the nvelve monographs fronl 1915. In this \vork, Freud attenlpted to clarify all the nlain concepts of psychoanalysis in individual essays. He had had the time for this \vork because of the isolation of the \var, \vhich, ho\vever, also conlplicated publication of his articles. Three were published in 1915, and dealt with drives (1915c), repression (1915d), and the unconscious (1915e). T\vo other articles follo\ved in 1917, and examined dream theory ( 1917d) and the connection benveen narcissisnl, grief, and melancholy (1917e). The renlaining seven essays \vere not published, probably because Freud thought them outdated after the war, when he had already made significant changes in his theory. It \vould undoubtedly have caused considerable confusion if they had been published at the sanle time as the major \vorks fronl the beginning of the 1920s. Nevertheless, Freud's destnlCtion of these manuscripts \vas, of course, a serious loss for students of his theoretical development, especially in light of the high quality of thc five published essays. A rough draft of these essays was once sent to Sandor Ferenczi and has recently been found and published (Freud 1985a). It discusses transference neuroses placed in an evolutionary perspective. The \var \vas a serious threat to the already divided psychoanalytic movenlent. Many psychoanalysts, including Abrahanl and Ferenczi, \vere ordered to do their service as physicians and potential patients had problems othcr than analysis on their nlinds. Publication of books and journals \vas difficult and international cooperation ahnost suspended completely. Before the Anlerican entry into the \var, Brill in Nc\v Y.ork \vas the only contact between Freud and the English grou p, and after 1917, all channels \vere cut off. Moreover, a conflict arose benveen Freud and Jones, because they synlpathized \vith the \var effort of thcir rcspcctive countries. To\vard

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the end of the \var, Freud becanlc increasingly despondent, and hc and his £'lnlily suffered fronl hunger and cold. His nl0st ilnportant \vork next to nletapsychology \vas his lectures on the introduction to psychoanalysis, \vhich in a nlore cohercnt fOrIn than thc nlctapsychological essays gave a picnlrc of \vhat psychoanalysis \vas. Freud gave these lccnlrcs in 1915 to 1916 and 1916 to 1917, and they providc, along \vith the "nc\v lecrurcs" (1933a) the best general introduction to psychoanalysis. Frcud had apparently retained his superstition froln the Flicss period that he \vould dic in February 1918, and the lectures \vere thus conccivcd as a testalnent. As we ktl0\V, his supcrstition \vas falsc and at the \var's end, Freud startcd a new phase in his \vork that \vould prove just as inlportant as his previous endeavors.

2. TIlE ESTABLISHMENT OF PSYCHOANALYSIS AS .AN INTERNATIONAL MOVEMENT (1918-1939) Psychoanalysis began to flourish again surprisingly quickly after the end of World War I. Soldiers rerurning from the front suffered a manifold number of psychic disorders that established psychiatry was at a loss to cope with (the same phenomenon \vould repeat itself after World War II). There \vere not only cases of shell shock and related disorders, but emotional crises caused by constant anxiety, changes in envirorunent, and iron discipline in the army. The military authorities \vere generally of the opinion that soldiers simulated emotional stress in order to escape military duty. A harsh "treatment" including strong electrical shocks \vas used, if for no other reason, to instill in soldiers a desire to be released from the hospital and rerurn to active duty. Ho\vever, Hungarian military authorities acknowledged the problem even before the \var's end and urged a number of psychoanalysts to evaluate its scope, \vhich in rurn prompted the convening of a congress in Budapest in Septenlber 1918. The Inany different kinds of disorders were grouped under the heading '\var neuroses." As early as 1919, several psychoanalysts published a book on the subject \vith a foreword by Freud (Freud 1919d). Freud was later commissioned as an expert to evaluate possible maltreanncnt of patients by Austrian psychiatrists during the war. However, his conception of war neuroses as a reactivation of infantile conflicts provoked by external causes \vas too remote from prevalent views to exert any influence, and his participation in this

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program made him, if possible, even less respected among traditional psychiatrists than previously. The main achievement for psychoanalysis \vas that it had survived the \var and had been revived as an international movement. In discussing post\var psychoanalysis, it is necessary to dra\v a sharp distinction bet\veen Freud's \vork and the \vork of the psychoanalytic movement in general. Freud's \vork became more exclusive, \vhile rankand-file members were assigned more menial tasks. Freud's \vritings during the 1920s were a denlanding challenge to many psychoanalysts \vho had just become comfortable \vith earlier concepts, but the positive effect of Freud's \vork was that psychoanalysis did not degenerate into a stagnant system. Freud \vas especially prolific in the years 1920 to 1925, \vhich \ve call his third metapsychological thrust. The most important \vorks of this period \vere Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920g), Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego (1921c), and The Ego and the Id (1923b). Among the other \vorks from this period \vas Inhibitions) Sympton1S and Anxiety ( 1926d) written in 1925. These \vorks contained extensive revisions of drive theory, development theory, and the model of the psychic appararus, although the tendency of these revisions is the same. The death drive \vas introduced as the generic term for all the fearures in human behavior having goals other than the attainment of pleasure and adaption to the environment. Freud attempted to explain the death drive as a biologically based effort in all living things to rerurn to the serene state of inorganic matter. He described the expression of the death drive in part as an out\vardly directed aggressiveness in some cases guaranteeing the survival of tlle individual, and in part as a destructiveness directed in\vardly at the ego. The death drive was expressed psychologically by the superego-the other new concept-and contributed to the preservation of utopian norms and ideals, which could plague the individual. The superego \vas generally accepted as an important concept among psychoanalysts, \vhereas the death drive met \vith resistance. Some chose to understand it as simply an aggression drive, \vhile others continued to prefer the old division of drives into sexual drives and drives of self-preservation. By the middle 1920s, the local psychoanalytic societies had joined the International Psychoanalytic Association, \vhich had a total of about three hundred mClnbers, a third of \vhich \vere in England and the United States. Thc nlost prolnincnt nlcmbcrs, ho\vever, \vere in continental Europc. The nlcmbership of the Vienna Psychoanalytic Socicty included Lou AndreasSalonl(:\ Siegfried Bernfeld, Ed\vard Bibring, Helene Dcutsch, Paul FedJ

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ern, Otto Fenichel, Anna and Signlllnd Freud, Heinz Hartmann, Eduard Hitschnlann, Ludwig Jekels, Ernst Kris~ Hernlan Nunberg, Otto Rank, Wilheltn Reich, Theodor Reik, Robert Walder, and Edoardo Weiss. In Berlin the nlost important menlbers \vere Karl Abraham, Franz Alexander, Ma.x Eitingon, Georg Groddeck, Karen Horney, Melanie Klein, Rudolf Lo\venstein, Sandor Rado, and Hanns Sachs. In Hungary, nlembers included Sandor Fercnczi, Geza Roheinl, and later Michael Balint, and in S\vitzerland, Lud\vig Bins\vanger, Oskar Pfister, Jean Piaget, and Raynlond de Saussure (son of the linguist Ferdinand de Saussure). It is note\vorthy that Piaget, \vho \vas to beconle fan10us as a developmental psychologist, started his career in psychoanalysis. Moreover, the Soviet group included nvo of his colleagues in linguistic and devcloplTIental psychology, Luria and Vygotsky. Ernest Jones was the undisputed leader of the English group. His most \vell-kno\vn colleagues \vere Ed\vard Glover, Susan Isaacs, Joan Riviere, and James Strachey. Strachey \vas later responsible for the excellent critical edition of Freud's collected \vorks in English. AbrahalTI Brill led the psychoanalytic group in the United States, which included Abram Kardiner and Harry S. Sullivan, who~ however, later achieved prominence outside of orthodox psychoanalysis. Freud stopped participating in international congresses in the beginning of the 1920s, partly for health reasons. The leadership of the organization \vas increasingly transferred to the conmlittee, \vhich was expanded to include Ma.x Eitingon after the \var. The presidency \vas occupied in shifts by committee n1enlbers. Freud concentrated sonle of his energies on developing a psychoanalytic publishing conlpany., seeing it as a necessary prerequisite for guaranteeing the independence of psychoanalysis. Because of financial problems \vith ftucruating rates of exchange the establishnlent of such a publishing company was \vell nigh inlpossible. In spite of several gifts of money, and in spite of the fact that Freud put his incon1e from his o\vn books into the company, it was usually in the red. The Nazis finally confiscated and destroyed the entire business. While the publishing company functioned, ho\vever, several journals and a nun1ber of books were published. Taken as a \vhole, they gave a good idea of developments in psychoanalysis. These developments were not totally hanTIonious. Aside from the conflicts arising from Freud's ne\v theories and the geographic dispersal of the movenlent, the members of the comlnittee also developed in different directions. We can give an in1pression of these differences by discussing the four most important lTIelnbers: Abraham in Berlin, Rank in Vienna, Ferenczi in Budapest~ and Jones in London.

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Karl Abrahanl (1877-1925) is regarded as Freud's nlost loyal follo\ver, but his support for Freud does not Inean he lacked his o\vn views. He \vas the first to \varn Freud of the dissenting opinions of Jung and later Rank. If later events had not confirnled his sllspicions, he \vould probably have been regarded as a troublenlaker. As a theorist he \vas the most pronlinent in the conunittee after Freud. He \vas originally trained at Burgholzli and understood better than Bleuler and J ung ho\v psychoses could be vie\ved in rclation to the developnlental theory of psychoanalysis. His most important \vork (Abrahanl 1924) contains a clarification of Freud's theory of the oral and anal stages of development and the hitherto most thorough exanlination of the nlanic-depressive psychosis. Abraham died suddenly in 1925 after a nlysterious disorder in the bronchial tubes. He \vas treated by Freud's old friend, the throat doctor Wilhelnl Fliess, but in spite ofFliess's periodicity theory, Abraham could not be saved. It has been speculated that the diagnosis \vas \vrong and Abraham suffered from lung cancer. During the 1920s, Berlin becanle an increasingly important center for psychoanalysis, and its pronlinent position \vas maintained after Abraham's death. One of the reasons \vas that a proper training center for psychoanalysis \vas established there, making the study of psychoanalysis more effective. Otto Rank (1884-1939) \vas not nledically trained. He was a man of letters and contributed early on in applying psychoanalysis to the analysis of literature and myths. He originally served as a kind of secretary to Freud and after the \var advanced to the position of Freud's right-hand man and probable successor. He also headed the psychoanalytic publishing conlpany. In 1923, he published a book on the birth trauma, in \vhich he clainled that neurotic conflicts thought to stenl from the Oedipus complex, in reality had deeper roots and stenlnled from the state of anxiety during birth. Freud \vas initially receptive to Rank's theory. Ho\vever, Abraham contended that Rank's theory, like those of Adler and J ung, \vas incompatible \vith the sexual theory of psychoanalysis. The final break did not conle before 1924, \vhen Rank, during a prolonged stay in the United States, clainled that his theory would shorten the long and difficult periods of analysis to about three months by focusing on the birth trauma instead of circunlventing it by d\velling on the Oedipus conlplex. Upon his return fronl the United States, Rank decided after some hesitation to stand by his theory. Freud could not tolerate this open '~treason" and Rank \vas forced to leave the psychoanalytic nlovenlent. Sandor Ferenczi (1873-1933) \vas for nlany years Freud's closest col-

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league and personal friend. It is evident fronl their correspondence that Freud ahvays confided his secrets to Ferenczi first, and Ferenczi was usually given the task of realizing Freud's ideas when Freud hinlsclf w.1nted to be dissociated fronl thenl. After the ,var there ,vere plans to luake Budapest the center of psychoanalysis, but political developnlents soon put an end to them, and Ferenczi becanle Inore isolated in his native city than Freud ever \vas in Vienna. Ferenczi \vas not so pronlinent as a theorist. His only nlajor ,vork \vas a some\vhat speculative book on the ontogeny and phylogeny of genitality (Ferenczi 1924). Yet he \vas perhaps the most prolninent therapist in psychoanalysis, developing new ideas in this field that Freud accepted in part. They are usually discussed under the heading "active analysis" and hold that the analyst should not Inerely be a passive listener, but should participate actively in the analysis at certain points. Freud did not believe that an analyst should force his o,vn vie\vs on the patient in any 'vay. The patient had to change his life by his own choice. However, Freud ackno,vledged that it nlight be necessary to give the patient certain instructions to prevent actions harnlful to the analysis and the patient himself. In the late 1920s, Ferenczi expanded his "active analysis" and Freud then directly opposed it. Ferenczi thought that childhood traumas should be taken nlore seriously than Freud generally took them. Most psychic conflicts could be uncovered as an expression of maltreatnlent of one kind or another of the child by his parents. Analysis should therefore proceed as an attempt by the analyst to recreate a good parent-child relationship by playing the role of the good parent. Ferenczi ,vent so far as to kiss and touch his patients, letting them feel "real" love in contrast to the cool transference of emotions in Freudian analysis. Freud accused Ferenczi condescendingly of "playing mother and child" with his patients, but their differences did not lead to any open estrangelnent, as in Rank's case. Ernest Jones (1879-1958) is known prinlarily for his three-volume work on Freud's life and work (Jones 1953, 1955, and 1957). His contribution to psychoanalysis rests mainly on his organizational \vork. He was instrumental in the dissemination of psychoanalysis in England and the United States. His most important theoretical contribution was his theory of symbols (1916), where he studied a subject that later became significant in psychoanalysis. As a representative of English conlmon sense, Jones consistently criticized the more speculative features of Freud's theory, including the death drive and Freud's belief in telepathy and Lamarck's evolutionary theories. However, their most serious disagreenlent arose in connection with Freud's theory of the phallic phase, which he fonuulatcd

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in the 1920s. Several fenlale analysts, including Karen Horney and Melanie Klein, could not \vholeheartedly accept Freud's concept of penis envy in girls. Horney claimed that phallic sexuality in girls (clitoris sexuality) was a secondary developnlent caused by a defense of the vagina, which was the prinlary erogenous zone. Klein nloved the Oedipus and castration complexes back to the first year of life, so that the question of the presence of a penis becanle a question of the presence of the nlother's breast and the child's fantasies of the breast. Jones, who had invited Klein from Berlin to London after Abraharn's death, became a \varm supporter of her theories, to Freud's regret. Ho\vever, Jones \vas always so moderate in his vie\vs that his support for Klein did not lead to a break bet\veen him and Freud. During the 1920s and 1930s, the center of psychoanalysis moved from Central Europe to England and the United States. This development was not only a transfer of power but a transfer of analysts. There were t\vo main reasons for this development. First, there \vas an enormous interest in psychoanalysis in the t\vo countries, especially in the United States. Americans \vere already accustomed to a health systenl based on private enterprise, \vhich also created a market for individual psychotherapy. Second, political developments in Europe led to the banning of psychoanalysis in several countries. In the Soviet Union, psychoanalysis met with widespread acceptance and \vas supported by Trotsky. Ho\vever, it \vas totally purged under Stalin in the 1930s and has never been rehabilitated. It was accused of being "bourgeois," "idealistic," "individualistic," and "decadent." In Germany, Hitler's assunlption of power put a sudden stop to psychoanalysis, \vhich \vas accused of being a Je\vish psychology. Psychiatry was put under the aegis of the Nazis, and \vas headed by Hermann Goring's cousin and Jung, who had earlier characterized his psychology as "Aryan." Jung resigned in 1939, but his cooperation \vith the Nazis stignlatized him once and for all, especially among J e\vish psychoanalysts. In the 1920s, the English and American groups provided a lucid example of their po\ver in the international organization. In 1926, Freud successfully defended Theodor Reik in Vielula against an accusation of quackery. The reason for this accusation \vas that Reik had practiced psychoanalysis \vithout nledical training. Freud did not see anything \vrong in this because he believed that psychoanalytic training \vas sufficient. In 1927, Ferenczi visited the United States, and \vas alnl0st ostracized after attempting to fornl a group of analysts \vith no nledical training. The Americans and the English consistently refused to accept nonphysicians as ana.lysts. This \vas the beginning of a lengthy dispute in \vhich Freud and Ferenczi fought

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147

energetically for their vie,vs. Freud even atteillpted unsuccessfully to have the American society excluded fronl the international association. His strong feeling about this dispute ,vas probably caused by his fear that the group of nledical doctors ,vould conle to influence psychoanalysis in a linlited and narro,v-nlinded direction. Ho\vever, he 'vas only able to reach a cOlnpronlise under ,vhich analysts ,vith no nledical training could be approved under certain special circunlstances, for eXaJllple, as child analysts. After World War II, Anlerican analysts totally dominated psychoanalysis ,vith the result that psychoanalytic training 'vas prinlarily reserved for physicians. Of course, pronlinent personalities ,vith no nledical training such as Anna Freud, Erik H. Erikson, and David Rapaport ,vere tolerated. The flo,v of analysts to the United States ,vas started by Sandor Rado, ,vho in 1931 'vas invited to becolne the head of the psychoanalytic training center in Ne,v York, ,vhich had just opened (paid for by a gift of fifty thousand dollars). Hanns Sachs enligrated in 1932. After 1933 a large part of the Berlin group left Gernlany, and the Vienna group was also drained. Freud ,vas terribly upset to see his inlnlediate surroundings being depleted of talented scholars seeking better financial opportunities abroad. He had finally lost his personal influence on the development of psychoanalysis, and his best ,york from his last years concerns issues on the periphery of traditional psychoanalytic problenls, for example, the exanlination of trends in modern civilization in Civilization and Its Discontents (1930a) and the analysis of the religious father figure in the major \vork on Moses (1939a). During this time, ,vriters like Heinz Hartmann, Wilhelm Reich, and Jacques Lacan, who ,vere to gain pronlinence in various psychoanalytic schools after World War II, were starting their ,York. After Hitler's invasion of Austria in 1938, Freud chose to emigrate, Inoving with his fatnily to England the sanle year. He died in London in September 1939 fronl cancer of the ja,v, from which he had suffered for sixteen years.

III

THE ANALYTIC WORK

INTRODUCTION TO PART III

In the general introduction, \ve explained ho\v Freud distinguished three dinlensions in psychoanalysis: analysis, therapy, and theory. In general, the subject of analytic \vork is "conlpleted" psychic nlanifestations, which are expressed in one \vay or another in consciousness or behavior. Analytic \vork can focus on dreaIllS, psychic functional disorders, and jokes, son1e of the nlore specialized areas Freud studied around the turn of the century, but it can also involve \vorks of art, religion, and social behavior, subjects \vith \vhich Freud becanle increasingly preoccupied in his later years. All fornls of analysis resen1ble each other by revealing unconscious sexual nl0tives behind conscious thoughts and actions. Ho\vever, they never becoIne trivial, because every single analysis deInands a n1eticulous study of the extremely con1plex prinlary and secondary processes that n1ediate the transition from unconscious to conscious. Freud hin1self chose \vhat he considered "privileged" expressions for the unconscious \vhen he presented psychoanalysis publicly. These expressions \vere particularly distinct exanlples designed to provoke discussion \vith specialists in other fields. It \vas inlperative for Freud to denl0nstrate the universal application of psychoanalysis as a tool of analysis. That he achieved this goal is evident fronl the fact that today nl0st hunlanistic and sociological disciplines have been inspired by psychoanalysis. The exanlples of analysis in section C should be seen in this light. They do not adequately depict the analytic capabilities of psychoanalysis because Freud did not, of course, nlaster the subjects in question as \vell as his o\vn. They do, ho\vever, contain significant qualities by consistently searching for explanations for truth~ and norOlS that are usually taken for granted. Freud concentrated his efforts on exposing religion and its illusions, but the n1cthod he created by doing so can be used just as rewardingly in analyzing political, ideological, and moral concepts.

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THE ANALYTIC WORK

Freud's nlethod of analysis can be characterized as interpretive or decoding. Like the Ronlantics, he was fascinated by ancient synlbols, characters, and nlyths \vhose nleaning had been lost. If the code could not be broken, the nlessagc could not be interpreted. The task \vas therefore to deduce the code and the message in the \vritings available. The interpretation of hieroglyphics especially \vas an exanlple to be enlulated. For a long tinle scholars \vere unable to interpret thenl because they thought that the hieroglyphics concerned the animals, plants, and celestial beings that the individual characters depicted. The solution \vas that these characters \vere not to be understood literally but rather as phonenles or syllables that could be freely cOlllbined to fornl ne\v and more conlplicated \vords. We ktl0\V this phenonlenon today fronl rebus language: for example, the two \vords in and deed together form indeed. Freud becanle acquainted \vith decoding in nlany different contexts, ranging fronl the natural sciences to Iiterarure to fun at the fair. We have discussed Darwin's interpretation of the affects, in \vhich he traced their physiological expressions (facial expressions indicating sorro\v, happiness, anger, and so on) back to functional reflexes in nlore primitive animal species. Reflex has gradually lost its function and therefore seenlS at times to be superfluous and nleaningless in nlatl if its origins are unmown. In literature, nlystery \vriters like Poe and Conan Doyle involved their protagonists in decoding. Detective \vork \vas in itself a fornl of interpretation in \vhich an idea of the crinle and not least the criminal could be pieced together by exanlining drops of blood, footprints, and so on. Freud \vas, not \vithout reason, popularly regarded as the Sherlock Holmes of psychology because his \vork consisted of nlaking guesses, dra\ving conclusions, and analyzing the unconscious of a person using only little infornlation. Even during Freud's lifetillle, there \vere many examples of the nlisuse of decoding technique. Fortune-tellers read fortunes using coffee grinds, playing cards, crystal balls, and the lines of the palm. Spirirualists interpreted knocking sounds as nlessages fronl the dead. Astrologists thought that hunlan destiny \vas deternlined by the position of celestial bodies. Many felt that Freud \vas too receptive to these ideas. For exanlple, he believed that one day psychoanalysis \vould be able to explain various occult phenonlena, and \ve have nlentioned that he never entirely abandoned his fatalistic beliefs, as he had believed Fliess's astrologically based prediction of the day of his death. These exalllpies cannot stand alone, ho\vever. Freud's analytic nlethod

INTRODUCTION TO PART I II

.

153

\vas naturally also influenced by a psychiatric dilllcnsiol1 found in thc \vork of Meynert, Charcot, and Breuer. In 1897, \vhcn Freud startcd to systeInatize his drcarn intcrpretation in carnest, he already had a 111cthod for thc interpretation of neurotic SYl11ptonls and a hypothetical 1110dcl of the psychic apparatus to \vork fronl. Without this I1lcthod and this nl0dcl, hc \vould hardly have achieved \"hat he did \vith his analysis.

A.

DREAMS

In 1900, \vhen The Inte1pretation of D1~ea11lS (Freud 1900a) \vas finally published, Freud in1agined, half in jest, that one day a nlarble tablet \voliid be erected at Bellevue, the family's SUlnnler residence for nlany years, which \vould read: "Here the secret of dreanls was revealed to Dr. Sigm. Freud on 24 July 1895:" Although this \vas the day that Freud interpreted the dream about Irnla's injection, \vhich \ve \vill discuss later in this section, the chronology implied by the inscription is not entirely accurate. Judging from A Project for a Scientific Psychology, (1950a), Freud, in the fall of 1895, regarded dreams exclusively as an expression of a hallucinatory \vish fulfillnlent. For exan1ple, if while asleep one developed a thirst, one would simply drean1 that one \vas drinking a glass of water. Such a direct wish fulfillment \vas, to be sure, unusual. Most dreams seemed disjointed and incomprehensible, but Freud explained that that was due to the fact that more complex desires left no roon1 in drean1s for the ideas that conlprised the wish fulfillment. The cathexes therefore joined together in units of ideas, \vhich then performed \vith particular intensity in the drealn even though they perhaps had nothing to do \vith the \vish fulfillnlent. On this point, Freud's theory still resenlbled Herbart's (sec I.B.4.b). When several ideas competed to transgress the threshold of consciousness, Herbart assumed that random weak ideas could becolne conscious by join ing together. Freud did improve on Herbart's theory by allowing prinlary processes to determine which ideas attained the greatest cathexis, but he had yet to integrate the defense concept in his dream theory. This integration occurred in two stages during the third and fourth phase of inception (see n.B on the inception of psychoanalysis). In the third phase (1895-1896), Freud managed to present pathological defense or repression in obsessional neurosis as a strong reaction of unpleasure in the preconscious directed toward a pleasure-oriented idea in the unconsciolls. A child repressed the

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idea of infantile masturbation and hence the \vish to continue to masturbate because the idea of masturbation had been associated in the child's upbringing \vith extreme unpleasure. In the long ternl, therefore, \vish \vas expressed as synlptonls of obsessional neurosis via prinlary processes. At this tinle, repression \vas a purely pathological defense, according to Freud. Ho\vever, he abandoned this view in the fourth phase (1896-1897) primarily due to the findings of his self-analysis. We can sumnlarize the result in two points: (1) both normal and neurotic persons had active repressed \vishes (including those suffering fronl hysteria and obsessional neurosis); (2) repressed \vishes did not necessarily stenl fron1 real (traun1atic) events, but could exist as \vish fantasies, first and foremost oedipal fantasies of possessing the mother sexually and n1urdering the father. In the fall of 1897, the fact that repressed \vish fantasies \vere found in all norn1al people and \vere particularly active in drean1s \vas a ne\v elen1ent in Freud's thinking. This discovery naturally led to a radical change of previous dreat11 theory so that no\v repression \vas placed at the center of the so-called drean1 censorship. The follo\ving nvo years \vere devoted aln10st exclusively to work on The Interpretation of Drea111s, and it is understandable that Freud called the interpretation of dreanls the royal road to a ktl0\vledge of the unconscious, because he had in his o\vn drean1s empirical nlaterial n10re readily accessible and more reliable than the accounts of neurotic patients. Even the first edition of The Interpretation 0fDrea11zs \vas very long \vith a n1eticulous structure. Freud clearly intended to advance the idea of dreanls as an everyday experience to a general theory of not only the forn1ation of drean1s, but of the psychic apparatus as a \vhole, that is, its genesis and function. Chapter by chapter he gradually expanded his terminological table, so that it was not until the end of chapter 6 that he had introduced all the concepts relating to dreanls. He then took a final leap to the general psychological theory in the long final chapter. Our presentation \vill no\v n10ve in the opposite direction. In the first section \ve \vill exanline the process of the forn1ation of drean1s, and in the second section \ve \vill give exan1plcs of dreanl interpretation using all the concepts of drean1 theory. We \vill first focus on general psychological theory in part 5.

157

DREAMS

1. THE FORMATION OF DREAMS Freud distinguished benveen nlanifest and latent dreanl content. Manifest dreanl content \vas \vhat \vas nornlally called a dreanl, in other \vords, the conscious phenonlena occasionally appearing during sleep that could be recounted aftenvard. It \vas inlpossible to Inake a scientific distinction benveen the recounted drea.tll a.tld the actual dreal1l. The latter had always disappeared by the tinle interpretation began, so one had instead to take the recounted dreanl as the object of inquiry. Freud accepted this because recounting also produced valuable infornlation for interpretation. The actual dreanl \vas prinlarily visual and could therefore be recounted in nlany \vays, but the nlanner in \vhich the dreanler recounted the dream also said something about his personality, just as the way he dreaJllt did. Latent dreanl content \vas all the sources of the dreanl uncovered during interpretation. It conlprised so-called day residues (Inemories fronl the day before the dreanl), other nlenl0ries (such as childhood menl0ries), \vish aJld drive impulses, and every physiological impulse affecting the senses during drea111S (hunger, thirst, light, noise, heat, cold, and so on). Dream interpretation \vas the \vork perfornled by the dreanler or psychoanalyst to uncover latent dream thoughts fronl the nlanifest dream. This \vork resembled the deciphering of a nlessage and the goal \vas, in the last at1alysis, to find the unconscious \vish fantasy that had attained consciousness in the dream by a complex nenvork of associations. Although interpretation, or deciphering, proceeded fronl the nla.tlifest to the latent content, Freud assunled that the nlanifest dreanl was fornled by a \vork process traveling in the opposite direction: the so-called dreat11 \vork whose function was to translate the unconscious \vish fantasy to the code language of the nlanifest dream. In principal, dream \vork could enlploy all the ITIelTIory ideas in the psyche, so \vithout sonle kno\vledge of the personality of the dreamer, it \vas impossible to interpret his dreams. Freud therefore prinlarily used his o\vn or his patients' dreams.

(aJ The Three Phases ofDream Formation The topographical model constnlCted by Freud in the third phase of the inception of psychoanalysis (as described in a letter to Fliess frolll 6 De-

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cember 1896) \vas also the basis for the theory of the fornlation of dreams in The Interpretation of Dreams. We \vill discuss this in detail in section V .A.1, and will only deal \vith its nlain features here. The psyche, or psychic apparatus is divided into systelTIs \vith different characteristics. The perception systenl (systenl P) records external sensory impulses that are then transnlitted to the unconscious (Ues). The systenl Ucs contains the earliest received nlemory ideas, the so-called thing presentations, and processes passing benveen thing presentations called prilTIary processes. Sonle inlpulses are transnlitted to the preconscious (Pes) containing word presentation received later, and the processes passing benveen thenl are called secondary processes. Compared to prinlary processes, the secondary processes are nlore logical and reality oriented. They usually perform in the conscious systenl (Cs), \vhilc all inlpulses from Ues must pass through Pes to reach Cs. Pes can under nornlal circllnlstances inhibit and in exceptional circunlstances repress inlpulses from Ues that threaten its integrity by a\vakening anxiety and unpleasure. During dreanl formation the repressive part of Pes beconles a censor, censuring all unconscious inlpulses before they are allowed to enter Pes. Dreanl fornlation has three phases through \vhich the inlpulse issuing fronl the unconscious \vish fantasy nlust pass before attaining consciousness in the fornl of the nlanifest dream.

1 P

Ucs

..

Cs

Pes

,-----_ ..... _-, Pleasure ego

I I

I I

'--- ---r--~ I

c.. :..c.

~ ~-------+------+-. ~ -+.- . c:: .

2

3

:::

QI

.. U

-:' ..